#So you get some bonus Vessels

[moonlightandmarble]

[quietwingsinthesky]

im too tired to expand on this fully but consider: s10-11 au constructed around chuck not showing up late in s11 but instead joining up with the winchesters after Fan Fiction. specifically as chuck, not as god, though he is still that and not only a prophet anymore. but sam and dean don’t need to know that. they just know there’s a prophet-shaped hole at the bunker.

chuck being a reoccuring character in the background of s10. talking about the mark with sam, getting badgered by charlie about the books, helping to translate the book of the damned. as it becomes more and more clear that sam’s really going to destroy the mark, he. doesn’t do anything to stop sam. but there’s more and more times where chuck just looks uncomfortable. an emotion that’s a mixture of nausea and fear, that the winchesters can write off as ‘nervous weird prophet dude having an episode’.

watching sam and dean a lot, too. in a voyeuristic way, obviously, this is his whole deal, he set them up to be interesting to him, but there’s something else there. grief, maybe. jealousy, definitely.

i just think the whole ‘oh yeah he’s actually god for real btw’ set-up would be better if he was actually around for a bit more recently not being god. or pretending not to be god.

[krysmcscience]

It’s finally done, guys – five whole pages of Narilamb AU comic AND MORE be upon you! (If you have trouble reading any of the text, view the full-size! These pages are huge!)

Yeesh, this took forever. <:)

There’s probably a ton of inconsistencies and anatomy/perspective wonkeries, but this was mostly just comic practice, so Oh Hekkin Well, Lol <:D

(Yes, I am aware the Gateway’s door isn’t present in the Afterlife, and the actual way in is just a pentagram portal. Yes, I put the door in there anyway because Artistic License, i.e. it felt more impactful for there to be a prison door of sorts to walk through to freedom, rather than just a bland boring portal on the ground. 😠)

anyway, i hate backgrounds so much lmao

Alternate ending and a buttload of bonus art under the cut, followed by goofy AU rambles and headcanon stuff:

I’m calling it the Revival AU. It’s not all that creative a title, and someone else has probably used it already, but I am too lazy to really care, LOL

Alternate ending page, which you will Definitely need to view the full-size for, Whoopsie Daisy:

The alternate ending was actually the first ending I finished things off with, because I had a brief badbrain moment where I forgot the emotional beat I initially wanted the comic to end on, and I tend to write comedy, anyway. I later remembered and drew out the proper ending, but I preserved and finished this one, too, because it still makes me giggle.

They had to go back for the followers off-screen in the AU’s real ending. And by ‘they’ I mean just the Lamb, because they weren’t about to ask three newly freed cats to go back into what used to be their prison. The Lamb DID spend some time watching Narinder and the bois enjoying the outdoors first, though:

In other news, here’s the Lamb and me making fun of my anatomy-drawing ‘skills’:

Meanwhile, if you’re wondering why the Lamb is just a-okay with how things went down vis a vis Their Murder, this bonus comic should answer at least some of your questions:

Ah, yes, also this is how they get engaged outside of the alternate ending. Forgot to mention that bit. XD (I already refuse to believe that Narinder is capable of flirting normally, so why would his initial marriage proposal be any better???)

Oh, and before any of them get a chance to actually head back to the cult grounds, there is one potential problem:

And by ‘problem’ I mean something Narinder intends to ignore for At Minimum a thousand years. Cuz he’s a petty bitch like that. :D

what do you mean i drew the lamb too tall compared to the background? clearly they’re standing on top of baal and aym lmao, why else would you think those two aren’t in this one??? (aym and baal got way too excited about finally being outside, you see, and their silly modes are nothing to sneeze at)

And, speaking of heading back to the cult grounds, I’m sure y’all would love to know how the Lamb’s followers felt about the brand new change in management:

It all went better than expected. <:D Tiny ramble now, feel free to skip down to the next comic.

Before you ask, no, the Lamb does not have any actual powers anymore, other than the immortality Narinder definitely grants them. The Red Crown just thinks it’s funny to suggest otherwise, and Narinder does nothing to discourage this. Also, the Lamb and Narinder aren’t actually married here yet, but, uh. Pretty safe to say that particular ritual directly follows the events of this comic. XD

Given how quickly he mellows out in canon, Narinder probably chills out a lot in this AU once he’s in charge of the cult, too, if only because 1.) He’s finally free, and 2.) He’s equally smitten with and distracted by the Lamb. He’s definitely in charge at least 95% of the time, though, because the Lamb never actually wanted to be a cult leader and, now that their time as a vessel is done, they just want to be a normal(ish) sheep who’s wholly devoted to their hot new divine husband.

Some followers do still have some valid concerns about these two being together, though, which I’m sure at least a few of you might share…

Unfortunately for any such concerns, the Lamb is a bonafide masochist in this AU. :D

They’re also 100% a sub, obviously

Anyone at all: Your relationship is problematic and potentially toxic

The Lamb: fuck yeah it is, it’s so hot~ OuO

Here’s just the last panel, made transparent for whatever nefarious purposes y’all might have for it:

Additional exchange Narinder and the Lamb have at some point, probably after the Lamb does a fatal whoopsie while out on a mission trip or in response to things getting a little too sadistic in the bedroom, ahaha:

Look, there is a very important distinction between life and death, and if you don’t understand that, then you’re probably not worthy of being the God of Death, anyway. (At least, according to Narinder, and ONLY Narinder.)

Last but not least, have these shittens:

~Such creative naming conventions I have utilized, lololol~ :D Anyway, there's a few deets on them in the rambles down below.

The rest is all ramble, so before I get to that, I’ll just say – likes and especially reblogs are very much appreciated!!! :D If you happen to really really REALLY like my stuff, meanwhile, I do have a link in my bio to my ko-fi page, where I’m accepting commissions and donations if you’re especially generous… ÓuÒ

Now, BE FREE IF YOU AIN’T DOWN FOR READING MY GOOFY RAMBLES

First ramble is re: Baal’s question of ‘Did it really work?’, since I didn’t feel like expanding on it in the comic proper, and it’s arguably pretty vague? He doesn’t ask because he doubts Narinder or his capabilities, exactly, but because neither Baal nor Aym have ever actually seen their god at full power before (he’s still technically not at full power here, either). It’s not expressly stated how soon the brothers were brought to Narinder after his imprisonment, but whether it was early on or after a length of time for Shamura to (somewhat) recover from his attack, he must have already been weakened, since I have no doubts that there was a huge battle that accompanied the Bishops working together to trap him. So, between that fight with all four of his siblings, sharing his power with a variety of vessels over time, and being chained immobile for a thousand years, he must have been severely weakened by the time he lent the Red Crown out to the Lamb, which would have only weakened him further.

I like to think this is how the Lamb is able to defeat him if they refuse to be sacrificed, despite how it took all four Bishops working together to subdue and chain Narinder in the first place.

All that aside, the three cats have been trapped in the Afterlife for so long that Baal also wanted verbal reassurance that they are all, indeed, actually able to leave it now – something that I headcanon isn’t possible without a significant amount of power (i.e. the Red Crown’s cooperation with its bearer/vessel).

(On a semi-related note, I don’t headcanon Aym and Baal as twins. I like sweetheart big bro Baal and snarky little goth bro Aym too much to have them be that close in age.)

Ah, teeny thing: If you noticed I switched up the art style for Narinder on the second page, that was intentional. It's sort of a visual indicator that there has been a Big Change for him - that being, how much power he has after sacrificing the Lamb. As for why I changed up his arms in the grass rollin' pic, I don't really subscribe to the notion that his arms are spooky bones because they're horrifically injured (beyond chain-chafing scars, that is), but rather just because he's the Bishop of Death, so he can change how normal-to-spooky they look at will. At some point I might doodle out how I imagine his appearance to range between least to most eldritch... 🤔

Next ramble, regarding Narinder’s feelings towards the Lamb...he was initially too focused on being freed from his imprisonment to form any real attachment to them. They were a tool for his use, first and foremost, but he did notice their intense devotion towards him. It was impossible not to notice, because the Lamb was always very happy to see him, even if it was because they died during a crusade (yet again). He wasn’t originally planning to revive them once he was freed, either, because he saw no real point to it – after all, they were already dead when they first met him, just as any other mortal would be when meeting him in the Afterlife, so death has very little real consequence in his eyes. But, once the chains were off, and it really sank in that he stood to lose the most devoted follower he’s ever had, he decided…why put their soul to rest for good or leave them stuck in the Afterlife when he could just as easily revive them again? And why not reward them for their hard work, anyway? Not only would it cost him nothing by comparison, but the future devotion that could come of it would surely make up for his (bare minimum) effort in reviving them.

He wasn’t expecting to get a full dose of that devotion and a smiling face so soon after killing them, though~ :3c (because the Lamb is a bonafide freak, and not-so-secretly into the fucked up power dynamics going on here, lol)

I should mention here that I am firmly of the belief that any non-god/vessel who crosses through the Gateway and into the Afterlife just straight up dies. So, Aym and Baal? Also straight up dead, from the second Shamura brought them through. Their souls were just never put to rest so that Narinder could have some company – if only according to Shamura. Narinder kept the two around mostly out of bewilderment, because honestly, who are these kittens, and what is Shamura’s game here, anyway??? They never even explained anything, they just tossed these kittens into the Afterlife and LEFT!!! At any rate, Aym and Baal being dead is how I explain why their souls apparently become lost in the void if they’re killed, along with the added complications required to revive the two because of it.

So, with those deets in mind, and given a bit of time, if Narinder hadn’t chosen to revive the Lamb, and also hadn’t chosen to put their soul to rest, they still would have woken up at some point, despite being as straight up dead as Aym and Baal. Who, don’t worry, were also properly revived while Narinder was waiting for the Lamb to wake up. Because I am also firmly of the belief that, first, the dead cannot leave the Afterlife without the use of a ritual/relic (and can't stay in the living world for long regardless), and second, dead followers’ devotion isn’t anywhere near as potent as that of the living, given how much more the living stand to lose.

Final ramble, regarding the Lamb’s feelings towards Narinder, and why they’re so devoted to him…

Well, you don’t spend most of your life on the run with your steadily-dwindling herd, trying to evade the ongoing genocide of your species, without becoming a little fucked up in the head. Maybe a lot fucked up in the head. Life is suffering, so might as well have fun with it, right? Maybe start finding death and pain to be kind of hilarious, even a little bit hot, once everyone you know and love is dead and gone, leaving you all alone? And maybe after that, there’s something comforting in how, despite the cold, cruel uncertainties of life, at least you can always count on the inevitability of death, patiently waiting for you until your very last breath? Who knows. Either way, as soon as the Lamb was killed, and they learned that the literal God of Death was offering them a second chance at life and vengeance via effective immortality, they were 100% ride-or-die-devoted all at once. Turns out death is kinder than life – go figure. (Of course, it helps that Narinder is 100% their type.)

They weren’t put off by Narinder’s thinly-veiled sadism or manipulations, either – they’re not too different in those regards, albeit opting for vastly different methods. It’s a very ‘two sides of the same coin’ sort of deal. In order to stay alive once they were made the last of their kind, the Lamb had no qualms with using others to their advantage, and that did not change once they were revived and expected to run a cult. They didn’t care for the position of authority, though – being a sheep and all, they’re much more of a follower than a leader, and thus greatly appreciated Narinder’s need for control. With how they had to keep on their toes for so long, the Lamb was also pretty good at reading people by the time they died, so they could recognize that a lot of Narinder’s posturing was just that – posturing. Dude’s 95% bluster and only 5% bite. He could obviously be vicious when he wanted or needed to (the Bishops' injuries were clear proof of that), but underneath his outer layer of cruelty was a generous layer of tsundere, and underneath all THAT was a soft squishy middle sibling velcro cat in desperate need of attention and affection.

(Which, for the record, he Did Not feel comfortable getting from Aym and Baal – Narinder still has no idea why the fuck Shamura sent them to him, beyond acting as keepers at best or trying to sabotage his attempts to escape at worst. Which, he thought HE sabotaged in turn, by guiding the kittens into being his devoted disciples instead. He thought he was very clever for it. ‘I outsmarted Shamura!’ he thought, despite that there was never anything there to outsmart. ‘What do you mean, Shamura sent your kittens to me for company?’ he demands of Forneus later. It may or may not lead him to pull Shamura out of Purgatory just so he can shake them and scream about how they should have Fucking Explained that!!!)

But, getting back on track as to why the Lamb was so willing to be sacrificed, I cannot stress this enough – if you pay even a minimal amount of attention to what he’s saying, Narinder is REALLY NOT SUBTLE about his intentions. ‘Death is of little consequence.’ ‘Followers are for you to use to your advantage.’ ‘Sacrifice a follower to absorb more power.’ So, yeah, the Lamb knew exactly what would be expected of them once the other Bishops were dead. They knew Narinder would expect them to die for him one last time. But, after all, death is of little consequence (not to mention hot), so when the time came, they wanted to see him freed, even if it meant oblivion for them in the end.

He’d given them a second life, and the ability to avenge their kin, and they felt indebted to him for that – so, while they were still pretty glum about the possibility that they might not get to see him free of his chains, nothing beyond their devotion and debt to him mattered. They never wanted all the drama and expectations that came with the Red Crown’s power, anyway, so, better for Narinder to have it back so that he could deal with it. What he did with the Lamb afterward would be up to him, and seeing as he was their god, they’d accept his decision gladly.

Were they in love with him by that point? Oh, obsessively so, but only in the devotional sense – romance was nowhere on their mind nor radar. That is, until he unexpectedly revived them again, told them he still needed them, and then offered down his hand to help them up.

The Lamb fell HARD for him in that moment. :3c

And now, a tiny shitten ramble. Lu and Li are twins, because sheep tend to have those a lot, and are conceived not long after the Lamb and Narinder’s marriage ceremony. Lu is the minutes older one, but Li is much more mature. I have put no further thought into these two, other than that they are utter menaces, birthed by the Lamb, cling hard to both their parents but especially Narinder (who spoils them rotten), and they are both genderfluid, using whichever pronouns/names they feel like at any given time. They are also both intersex, same as the Lamb, who was initially infertile up until Something Something Vague Magic, which I have also put no further thought into ¯\_(シ)_/¯

oh, and before anyone tries to suggest i headcanon this AU’s lamb as trending more female due to them giving birth or whatever, no, no, a thousand times no, they might have a vag, but they've also got a dick, and even if it's not as big as they'd like, they still know how to use it

Finally, the very tentative name for the Lamb in this AU is Yazdi, which is really just another name for the Baluchi breed of sheep XD (Not that the Lamb is this specific breed, I just didn’t like any of the other sheep-related names I found, ahaha...)

THAT’S ALL FOR NOW (collapses into an exhausted pile of goopy limbs)

[anothermansjeans]

oooo i would LOVE if you could do a blurb where we see youtuber reader getting ready with spencer’s voiceover spliced in between your descriptions!

hehehe YES! i was wondering if anyone would have wanted to see it SO THANKS FOR GIVING ME A REASON TO WRITE IT!!

cw: fluff, spencer is a menace at times

wc: 599

youtuber!reader masterlist

++

The engagement of your most recent TikTok was off the charts. It wasn't something that you normally thought about. Yes, making content was your job and what helped keep the bills paid, but you always did well enough to not have to worry (you're very aware and never take this for granted). There was just something about Spencer in your videos that made the views and comments skyrocket.

The video went as follows: it was a simple set up, you were at your vanity with your makeup setup, and you sent a smile and wave to your phone. A voiceover of yourself talking. “Hey lovelies, I’ll be doing my makeup but Spencer will be doing the voiceover! Okay, bye!”

The video continued on with you massaging spf onto your face, followed by some primer. “This is Y/N doing her makeup routine, even though I tell her every day she already looks perfect.” Your awe was heard after his statement. “It looks like Y/N is putting sunblock all over her face. She’s not putting on the recommended amount which is about ¼ teaspoon. Many dermatologists recommend the ‘three finger rule’ when applying so that you know you’ve used enough.” Your scoff could be heard in the background, but Spencer continued. “She’s now using another product with the name ‘elf’ on it. I believe this is a skin primer, which I learned blurs pores and smooths your skin so makeup can glide on.”

The video continued on as you went through putting on concealer, foundation, and contour. “She’s now putting concealer under her eyes and on red spots. I believe this is for color correction, but she should be using a shade of green to neutralize the red and then put concealer or foundation on. She’s now blending in the concealer very vigorously.” His next words were a bit softer, most likely looking directly at you when he spoke “you should have a lighter hand so bruising doesn't occur or worse, when you're blending on your eyelid the possibility of popping a blood vessel.”

Your giggles could be heard as well as your words, “okay babe, you're missing some of the video though.”

“Right! Okay, now she's using foundation. This shade looks to be a shade too dark though. Y/N, did you run out of your winter shade?”

“Spencer!”

“Sorry, sorry, now she’s blending again, still very harshly, but now she's using a darker shade to contour under her zygoma and on her mandible.”

The video went on with Spencer’s commentary sprinkled in. He knew exactly what each process was (you think he watches more of your videos than you originally assumed), and he would only roast you every other step. It was the end of the video when you were putting setting spray on and Spencer let out a sigh. “And the last step. I think. She’s spraying something on her face. She told me this helps her makeup stay on all day, but her skin produces oils throughout the day so it's likely this really only works for a couple of hours at most.”

Your grumbled voice could be heard after his. “Outro, Spence!”

“Thanks… for watching? Was that good? I don't know how to stop the recording, Y/N–”

And the video was over. People were obsessed with Spencer just from his voice alone. The quips were funny, his voice was a bit raspy, TikTok declared they loved him (and you– they were obsessed with this relationship). You had a feeling Spencer would be a lot more involved in your content from here on out.

++

BONUS: some comments

@ user: HE KNEW SO MUCH??? 😭

@ user1: he's so sassy PLEASE...sassy man epidemic is REAL

@ user2: his...voice... girl i would die a happy death fr

@ user3: SHE'S GETTING COMFORTABLE WITH SHARING HIM WE'RE WINNING

@ user4: why is he DRAGGING you ever so slightly LMAOSHSJDJD

@ user5: yall are so cute i want what you have 🫶

++

youtuber!reader taglist: @im-a-ghost666

let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

[not-fortune-cookie]

Hey just saw your writing and I adored it and I had an idea for a story drabble or if you like it enough...a series...basically y/n is a person who loves playing cookie run kingdom but wishes to live among them. Kinda like your...special cookie story but can imagine they are transported into the game as like a weak cookie...like a common cookie. Bet that would make the cookies VERY protective of them if they like y/n lol! As y/n just lives their life and wanders around...possibly even taken on some of the adventures to see more of the world by gingerbrave and his friends, they meet more cookies who adore em aaaand want to protect em!

Bonus if ya want: reader is like...an absolute shy bean who either has no idea how to fight oooor is a pacifist.

𝐍𝐨𝐭-𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬:

Spoiler Alert— That's actually my concept on my story, "Wished Fulfilled". [Y/N] is called the Ruler; or most authors put it-- Baker. But in my story, they're just [Y/N] Cookie. Unique category but the weakest among the Cookies. Also, thank you for the compliments! I appreciate your kind words. I'll try finish the story soon!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

                You love to decorate the [Name] Kingdom. You are their Ruler after all even it's only a day when you transmigrated into the game. However, since you didn't know how to be a cookie, there are some downsides. Especially that you're the weakest among the kingdom and its residents.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

                You are quite a crumbling little thing. Your dough hasn't baked into a crispy one and your soul hadn't settled yet with your vessel. You're not allowed to be up and about yet, your legs are shaky and you're like a newborn.

                Don't worry your pretty little head, Pure Vanilla Cookie is kind and gentle with you. Standing by your side every step of the way as you practice. You're so shaky and weak, you easily fell down flat on the grass whenever you let go of your trusty staff. No wonder some of the Cookies have them—

                Every step you injure yourself, the Healer cookie never hesitated to erase each scratch from your dough. He watches your every move and even offer a hand when you need to. Eventually you'll get accustomed to your body soon enough.

                But that doesn't mean the Ancient hero will not be so protective. The young cookies can be rambunctious and run to you out of excitement to finally meet you. So he is alert and telling the young ones to not overwhelm you so much.

                Just don't traverse too far from him. He can't afford you to get injured without him to aid you. But he trusts Espresso to handle your curiosity of your Kingdom.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

                This situation made Espresso Cookie appoint a research for you to easily maneuver your new body. For such a Cookie like yourself, someone who the Ancient Cookie cares for, the scientist had made sure of it that you are well taken care of.

                Despite his busy schedule, Espresso Cookie uncharacteristically dropped his current research to leash you near him. He constantly has to panic whenever his sight isn't on you. He is already disheveled and in distress before he can finally find you among the deep forest that leads to adventure to Crispia.

                But the leash he had on you won't let you travel far. He can't let you go deep in dangers out there. The Kingdom is nothing without their ruler and you had just get here.

                He has to get the best distraction for you. Do you like shiny things? He has some trinkets you can play in his laboratory. Despite not wanting anyone to disorganize his tools, he may allow you to clean up his equipment as long as you don't get far from the premises of the Kingdom.

                But eventually you got away and curiosity got the best of you. What danger lays outside the Kingdom that made Pure Vanilla Cookie and Espresso Cookie forbid you to get far?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

                That's when Red Velvet Cookie find you. He lost chiffon one time and some of his cakehounds when he encountered the frail you.

                Red Velvet Cookie knew the cookies that built a kingdom for the Ruler to arrive. He was expecting someone so powerful and as vile as the residents of [Name] Kingdom that harm his precious hounds. But the way you let the little ones cuddle up to you and hesitate to even have a thought of laying a hand of them. The cookie of darkness is intrigued by your pacifism.

                So he approached you, promising himself to protect you from harm as you adore and spoil the cakehounds that refused to leave you.

                You're part of his family now, despite being on the 'good' side.

I hope this is satisfactory for a drabble :]

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Something cold, sweet and delicious

Written for the January 2025 round of the @steddiemicrofic challenge, and for the @steddiebingo

Rated: E

Words: 517

Prompts: New, Clothed Sex (Countdown to Midnight bonus card), Quickie (round one main card)

Tags: Pre-S4; Scoops!Steve; Eddie is a little shit; Sexual tensionn; Fuck buddies; Angry sex; Clothed Sex; Bathroom sex; Semi-public sex

“Ahoy, Stevie!”

Eddie breezes through the door, reveling in the look of abject horror that replaces the smile on Steve's face. The girl he's been whispering with whirls around. “So the rumors are true. The new outfit looks lovely on you.”

Steve flushes almost as red as the tie of his cute little sailor suit - the very shade that Eddie likes to tell himself is reserved for him alone - but refuses to acknowledge him.

“Anyhow,” he tells the girl, slipping the smile back on. “My break's in ten, we could-”

“Maybe some other time,” she says and picks up her shopping bag. “I'll see you around.”

Steve watches her slip into the crowd of mall goers with tired resignation. Like a shipwrecked sailor seeing yet another vessel disappear on the horizon.

“Stop laughing, Munson. What do you want?”

“Take a guess, sweetheart,” Eddie shrugs, not bothering to disguise his shark-like grin. “I'd like to enjoy something cold, sweet and delicious.”

He reaches over the counter to grasp at the tie. Steve jerks away. The blush deepens.

“Hands off! Are you insane?”

“What?” Eddie presses a palm to his heart. “Still ashamed of me? Kinda ironic, considering you're the one dressed like a Victorian school boy.”

Steve sputters. The family in the nearest booth looks over.

“Okay, you stupid, annoying asshole,” Steve says through gritted teeth. “How do I make you leave?”

“Well,” Eddie smirks, “I hear it's almost your break?”

*

Steve starts pulling off his shirt as they stumble into the bathroom, but Eddie grabs his wrists, rings leaving marks in the sensitive skin.

“Leave it on.”

Steve scoffs.

“Seriously? Does this turn you on or what? You really are a freak, huh?”

Eddie whirls him around, roughly pushing him into the next stall. Steve catches his fall by grabbing the toilet seat, and Eddie leaves him no time to get his bearings.

He yanks down the blue shorts, so hard he feels the fabric give a little, letting the rubber band snap below Steve’s buttocks and delighting in his half-pain-half-pleasure gasp.

“Oh, honey,” he purrs, pulling a pack of lube from his pocket and slicking himself up with two, three, four quick thrusts. “Don’t tell me you didn’t see this coming. What was I supposed to do, watch you prance around in this getup and hit on everything with a pair of boobs? We both know you prefer my cock.”

Steve growls and tries to struggle, but Eddie claws one hand into his shoulder and reaches around him with the other to grab a hold of the tie, yanking him onto his cock. Steve doesn't argue after that, just moans and whines prettily until Eddie comes inside of him. It doesn’t take long.

*

“You really are an asshole, you know that?” Steve says as they step out into the food court, fiddling with their rumpled clothes. “Didn’t even let me come.”

“Priorities, sweetheart. Don’t want you to be late for work,” Eddie winks, straightening the sailor collar. “But if you insist, I'll wait for you in the parking lot after your shift.”

More Steddie Bingo

[charmwasjess]

I legitimately didn't remember how fucking batshit funny some of the Dooku sections in Claudia Gray's Master and Apprentice were. Qui-Gon's remembering his first mission with Dooku in flashback: okay, seems straightforward enough. They land in an ongoing crisis in a battle zone, Dooku goes to talk to the generals. Then, next scene, we smashcut directly to:

"Don't be afraid." Dooku's voice rang out over even the howling winds of Shurrapak. Qui-Gon clung to the carbon-fibre-rope riggings of the Shurrapakan ship, salt spray stinging his face and hands as they rounded the cape to approach the battle from an angle the enemy wouldn't expect. "They're shielded against skycraft and energy weapons. Not against seafaring vessels!" He made this sound majestic, courageous, brilliant -- nothing like the last-minute, last-ditch attempt it really was. Qui-Gon took a deep breath and stared up at the stars. Big mistake. The stars weren't moving and his stomach was, and the queasiness that swept through him made him feel weak.

Dooku has been on this planet for less than 24 hours. There are already other Jedi there ahead of him with established generals working on the battle plans, which according to the scene just before this, are complete enough that its conceivable Dooku and Qui-Gon will miss the action. So naturally, the plan he then comes up with is "ABANDON ALL OTHER PLANS, WE ATTACK THE FORTIFIED BATTLEFIELD WITH OLD TIMEY ROPE-RIGGED SAILING SHIPS!"

And at his side?? A seasick twelve year old who has never left the Temple or seen battle!!! Who can't swim! And backing them up?? Rael fucking Averross, who Dooku was just nagging for being too eager to get into the fighting. Sure, Dooku. That's Rael's problem.

This is the most disaster lineage shit I've ever read. This could absolutely be an Anakin and Obi-Wan Clone Wars arc.

Bonus Rael and Qui-Gon Content, from earlier in the chapter:

"C'mon, then, let's go talk to the generals." Rael made it sound like the most natural thing for a twelve-year-old to do.

Rael, you crazy motherfucker, never change.

[cads-the-cat]

Wait tell me about sugar and spitting and cables and stuff???

There's nothing I'd rather do😁

This is a bigger post so check for the stuff under the cut

Enjoy this set of gifs (originally taken from the post linked)

Don't know what exactly was going on, especially in Vessel's mind (do we ever though) but the level of unhinged is unmatched and i love it (also would like to know what old iv and iii thought about this🤣)

Sugar was the original instance of band members being chairs. Lots of performances of Sugar in 2022 included Vessel ending up on iii to the point where you might ask 'Do you want to get a room?'

(Found this on pinterest so credit to unknown)

Or getting very touchy with either iii or iv

Require some evidence? Here's a few videos

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DD6XgfMxZrC/?igsh=MWt2Znlhb21pYW12eg==

Basically the entire first half of the video:

Start at around 1 min

Also start at around 1 min for this one

And who could forget Birmingham (starts at around 1:10)

And Manchester (start at around 30 seconds)

And as a bonus insane content, the legend that is Leeds Festival 2018. It's wild

Thanks to all the legends who captured them and their feralness in their early days🙏

Hope you enjoy

[miley1442111]

Hi my love!

I'm sorry if this is a bother, but I saw you were taking requests and I really wanted to see this one written and you do such amazing writing.

Please don't feel pressured into writing this tho

So, we all know Derek is like, 6'2" is, right, so the girls he talks to are shorter than him, but I was wondering if you could write something with a female reader where she is almost as tall as him, and decided to wear heels to something, like a party or a gala or something, and she feels insecure about being so tall and he's just swooning over her because look at his tall woman, his amazing tall woman who works as an FBI profiler and can literally kick anyone's ass and just look how cool his girlfriend is.

Like, if you wanted to you could write about how some guy made a comment and Derek literally had to be held back because he was full on ready to throw hands for the reader.

Bonus points of she's like really fit, like she definitely hits the gym and you can see it

Again, you don't have to write it if you don't want to/don't feel comfortable, I just thought it would be cute

OMG I love this idea, it's so freaking cute! I had so much fun with this and istg I'm so sick of y/n always being some small fragile little thing in fics, it drives me crazy!!!!

Thank you for requesting my dear ! :)

my girl- d.morgan

a/n: intended for tall fem!reader but as per usual imagine what you like :)

summary: derek comforts you after something happens at the yearly award show

pairings: derek morgan x reader, (platonic) bau team x reader

warnings: insecurities, suggestive tones, crying, fluff :)

You loved your body, seriously you did. It was your vessel, your home. You nourished it and took care of yourself. 

But sometimes you wanted to feel shorter. Being tall has its advantages, and yes, you knew you were more than conventionally attractive, but it didn’t stop the nagging feeling in the back of your head, telling you it was weird that when you wore heels, your boyfriend was looking up at you, not down. Derek was 6’2. You were 6’2 ½ with these heels on. You were taller, which was fine, but it played in your mind more than you had wanted it to for the entire night. 

Derek on the other hand? When he saw you in that perfect dress he didn’t think he’d have the willpower to actually stop himself from fucking you before the event. He felt so lucky. His beautiful, ass-kicking girlfriend was wearing a dress that he’d bought her and she looked fucking delicious. He knew you were gorgeous, especially when he was regularly graced with the image of you naked, but this was another level. On your latest mission you’d taken the unSub down on your own and he swore he’d never been more turned on. The way you just overpowered him, getting his knife off him and cuffing him. You were the most beautiful person in his eyes, you always would be.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walking into the gala, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself, gripping and pawing at you, kissing you constantly. Though, he could see something was wrong. Was this gala too much for you? Did you want to go home early? He wouldn’t have complained.  

“You alright baby?” He asked as another award was announced. 

“Fine,” you sighed, staring into your plate of food as you just moved the mashed potatoes around. 

“Baby,” He placed his hand on your thigh, grabbing your attention. “Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing.”

Derek frowned. You weren’t usually one for keeping things from him. “Baby-”

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you announced to the table, and stood up. You avoided Derek’s concerned eyes and he got up to follow you. 

“How’s the weather up there?” A drunk asshole asked you and he saw the way your face subtly contorted into upset, trying to hide tears. 

He saw red.  

His eyes darkened and his fists balled at his sides. “You wanna say that again?”

The drunk asshole sobered slightly after seeing the seriousness on Derek’s face. 

“Derek it’s fine-” you pleaded, wanting to sink into the floor. 

“No it’s fucking not. Say it again.”

David and Aaron got up from the table, stalking over before Derek swung at the guy. 

They were too late. 

“Derek!” You shouted as the other two pulled him off the man. Other tables were starting to stare and you felt perpetually worse. You should’ve just worn flats. 

“You can shut up next time, yeah?” Derek jeered at the bleeding man as Aaron and David held him back.

“Calm down,” Aaron ordered cooly, and Derek instantly pulled himself out of their arms,brushing them off. 

“I’m calm,” he said. He was not calm. No one got to insult his girl. 

“Can we just go home?” You whispered through shaky breaths. Derek’s attention was all on you.

“Of course we can.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The drive home was silent, his hand on your thigh as you attempted to calm down. 

Derek was wracking his brain for why you’d been off all night but came up empty. 

What was wrong?

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You kicked off your shoes, practically running to the bathroom and locking it behind you. Derek sighed to himself as he set down the keys, deciding to grab himself a beer. 

You took off your makeup, your dress, and showered, trying to wash your insecurities away. You knew you were pretty, you knew Derek loved you the way you were. 

Sometimes insecurities just get the better of you.  

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sheepishly walked into your bedroom and saw Derek on the bed, waiting for you. 

“Can we talk?” He asked and you nodded slowly. “What’s wrong?”

And with that, the floodgates opened. You pushed your face into his chest, crying against him as he comforted you. “I just… I know I’m ‘pretty’ and all but… sometimes I just-”

“Hey, you are pretty, so goddamn pretty baby,” he smiled at you and it eased some of the hurt in you. “But I get that you don’t always feel like it, which is fine too, y’know why?”

“Why?” You snuffled out, looking up at him through running mascara.

“Because I can alway remind you, my pretty girl,” he smirked, and sealed his statement with a kiss. 

You felt better, knowing you had someone who loved you no matter what. 

It’s not like Derek minded, he was so head over heels for you you could’ve had two heads and he wouldn't have cared. You were his.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist:)

[saltymongoose]

ok i have a request: phobos with a shy player who hides behind him to avoid talking to people. extra bonus points if they also tend to get overstimulated and will just hang out in his office because they know nobody will disturb them

Of course! Here you go Anon, Happy New Year! <3

Phobos' Reaction to a Shy!Player

(TW: Yandere, Obsessive Behavior, Referenced Violence)

The moment you first show some signs of extreme shyness, Phobos’ concern is obvious. The sight of you ducking behind him when two of his agents passed by made him wonder if they'd committed the sin of scaring you in some way.

He’ll ask you about it in a soft manner, ever polite and gentlemanly. “Have my men done anything to make you wary, Your Grace? I assure you, I’ll punish them appropriately for their transgression, whatever it might be."

(Perhaps he was a little too convinced that they did something. But the Director couldn’t stand for anyone or anything making you too scared to be there at the Nexus’ headquarters, too scared to be near him. Plus, he couldn’t stand it if these nobodies made his organization look bad to you. Not when all of this was for your favor.)

You wave your hands and try to assuage his concern, explaining that you were just a bit overwhelmed by others’ attention and that his personnel weren’t at fault for anything. (Luckily for them.) The Director merely hummed in response, but you could tell he was put at ease by the way his hand fell from the pommel of the sword at his side.

After that, however, Phobos learns to appreciate your shyness each time it rears its head. The way it causes you to go to him for comfort is something he can’t help but adore, not only because it serves him with that attention from you he so craves, but also because it shows just how much you trust him.

Really, it’s enough to make him swoon. Witnessing his God showing so much faith in him and his capabilities, seeing how you go to him and him alone for comfort—it's far more than any simple vessel of yours could hope for.

Phobos will do his best to ensure that you never regret your choice, and he’ll be infinitely welcoming and understanding whenever you feel the need to escape from others’ attention.

He’ll place himself between you and anyone else who enters your vicinity, acting as a barrier should you not want to spend your time mingling with his lessers. (Besides, he really doesn’t think that they deserve an inkling of your attention anyway, even if they are his underlings.)

If you do decide to socialize, he’ll try to keep you close regardless. He figures it would be best to do so in case anyone tries to get too comfortable around you or dares to upset you.

Needless to say, the workers of the Nexus Core are never truly at ease whenever they’re around you; it’s impossible to be. Not when their Director is leering in their direction like he’s a second away from violently lunging at them. And they honestly believe Phobos enjoys the discomfort they feel around him. (And they’d be right.)

On the off chance that Phobos cannot accompany you, he’ll have one of his officers do it instead (likely a Tower Guard or another one of his more powerful units). They’ll be under strict orders concerning their treatment of you, of course.

Phobos absolutely loves it when you hide away in his office to get some proper peace and quiet. Just being able to look up from his work and see you lazing about on the seat closest to his or reading a book he’s gifted you makes him feel all the more warm in your presence. Perhaps it’s the joy of being in your sphere, or simply the gratefulness he has that you chose him and his place as your getaway, but the butterflies in his chest can’t seem to die down when you’re so close.

He’ll encourage you to stay more often and for longer each time you drop by. Phobos will also use a myriad of reasons to try to convince you if you hesitate; whether it be his need for your tactical knowledge or him “accidentally” ordering someone to bring your favorite snacks/drink to his office before you even entered. Either way, you’ll find yourself having some obligation to spend more time with him. Not like you mind it that much; Phobos is surprisingly good company (to you, at least), and it stops you from having to mingle with others when you don’t wish to.

Overall, Phobos is surprisingly soft and doting when faced with your shyness - even affectionate (and clingy) at times. However, that's to be expected; it's a side only you could ever bring out of him, after all. For the Director of the Nexus Core, treating you any different would be a crime worthy of the worst consequences imaginable.

[olrinarts]

so yesterday i was fuckin brainblasted by the wildest AU idea: yuri rock gods AU

i swear it will make sense just hear me out (bonus leshy at the bottom because it's the only other design i liked)

Okay so here's how it works: they're all still the gods of what they're the gods of, but they're all lady-shapes (shamura and lamb continue to use they/them), and it's more that divine magic is expressed through music as conducted through the crowns, rather than a completely different setting with different domains

Narinder isn't chained in place, but she IS locked into an underground concert arena, because the only lock they needed for her was the one around her throat

how it all went down was that they each had their own primary instrument: Leshy's got drums, Heket's got the bass, Kallamar's on keyboards, Narinder's on guitar, and Shamura's got essentially a real time mix studio, it looked cool but shamura's design was trash so i'm sorry you can't see it 😔

vocals just weren't a thing yet, until narinder was like 'you know what would sound good'

shamura was instantly like 'shit if there are vocals/lyrics, people are going to pay less attention to the rest of the band, meaning our divine power will wane, so we gotta get rid of her before this spreads too far'

so the bishops cast her down below, and intentionally made the seal require vocals and a band to unlock - but the lock has narinder's singing voice muted (she can talk but she can't so much as hum let alone sing)

and from then on vocals are heresy

that doesn't mean they go away, since the idea is out there now, so eventually the prophecy comes along: there's a sacrificial lamb that if not destroyed, will free the One Who Waits by uniting the instruments under one Crown and singing the song that'll break the seal

The Lamb ends up getting got by the bishops, bc they were a naturally talented vocalist (they have a roller derby aesthetic because i like the kinetics of rollerblading for fights, that's the only reason and i make no apologies) and since they were a sheep, that meant they were a target

so they're sacrificed, only to wake up Below with a giant hot cat having just resurrected them. Lamb sitting up and immediately heart eyes lmao

She hands them the Red Crown, whose form has become volatile in its time cut off from half of Narinder's divine instruments (she can still use guitar, but as she essentially split her power in order to use vocals in the first place, things are a little whack)

So once she's explained some things to the Lamb, she promises to teach them how to use their voice, and get revenge on the bishops for all the vocalists they've ever killed to try and keep the One Who Waits locked away, and so between the prospect of revenge and the divine favour of giant hot cat goddess, the Lamb's instantly in

with each bishop defeated, the red crown absorbs the instrument, but it needs fans whose devotion will make the Lamb stronger, so the Lamb's time is split between growing their fanbase, crusading against the Bishops and their entourages, and spending time with the One Who Waits in the Below

The two of them are significantly more touchy feely than they would be if Narinder was chained up - the whole seductive persona/flirtation is originally a technique for Narinder to ensure the Lamb stays loyal and gives up the Crown at the end, only for it all to go downhill because she ends up with genuine feelings for the Lamb

Any time she's done the same kind of thing to prior vessels she's had a really firm 'no touching only looking' rule, only for poor Aym and Baal have to watch their not-foster-mom carry the Lamb around or let the Lamb ride on her shoulder or snuggle up to her while they're talking instead of the singing lessons they originally went Below to have

it gets to the point where Narinder and the Lamb start to sleep together somewhere between the Lamb defeating Heket and defeating Kallamar (it takes some coordination since Narinder's like five times the Lamb's size, but two people who really want to sleep together will find a way)

(Aym and Baal having taken to just going to the backstage greenrooms during the Lamb's 'singing lessons', so the twins have no idea until at some point they get an eyeful because they came out from the backstage rooms before Narinder and the Lamb were expecting them lmao)

amusingly when Kallamar's like 'she's seducing you for her own ends' and Narinder starts to freak out while she's watching, the Lamb's just like 'idk she shouts my name pretty loud for someone who's seducing me. anyway i'm here to kill you not talk about my holy friends with benefits situationship with your hot sister'

when the bishops are dead and the time comes, the final battle with Narinder isn't about trying to kill each other but essentially over who's going to be frontman from then on, only to fight to an unwinnable draw and have the Red Crown really exasperatedly communicate that duets are a thing you dramatic lesbian morons

so it ends in mutual custody of the Red Crown and getting to tour the world that's now theirs, overcoming all obstacles with the power of yuri and rock n' roll

(whole AU exists because I was listening to Heart of A Dancer by the Happy Fits and I pictured roller derby Lamb doing a flying somersault and smashing through a title screen with the Red Crown as the Red Axe (as in guitar) and here we are)

anyway here's the bonus Leshy

[zhenne]

What Pokémon would the LaDS boys have for a partner/companion? + some (poor) artistic renditions.

disclaimer! are there some random mythical pokemon thrown in? yes. do i give a shit? absolutely not. this is my canon.

Xavier

- he found it (it found him) and it wouldn’t stop following him, so he took it in. I’m feeling psychic typing for him. espurr. (he secretly adores it). bonus point: cue the silent resignation when someone tells him “oh, it kinda looks like you”☺️ xavier’s literal reaction: 😟

you can’t tell me you don’t see the resemblance

Zayne

- chien-pao. he came across it while in the arctic. it had been injured and he tended to it throughout the duration of his trip. by the time it came for him to return home, the chien-pao refused to leave his side.

- not much of a battler, so he had no need for a party. there are several that stick around his home that he occasionally feeds.

- 10/10 ancient beast

(is this technically size accurate? no. do i really give a shit? also no. I didn’t feel like drawing a massive beast atm but you see my vision)

Rafayel

- chi-yu. fire fish (x2). another mythological pokemon, BUT i feel this one is especially fitting considering they’re both from ancient times.

(pls ignore the quality of this one—I was getting lazy and wanted to gouge my eyes out by this point)

Sylus

- I would’ve said corviknight but that mf is like 7’ tall. so I’m giving him a fighting type: lucario.

- pictured: training day—i gave lucario ear protection bc sylus would be a responsible trainer🙂‍↕️

bonus!

Caleb

- hmm. something basic, unassuming. a flying type for sure. pidgeot. very boy-next-door coded. (but also lowk evil hehehe i have so many headcanons for this one)

Luke & Kieran

- these two little shits would have pokemon that were equally up to no good as they were. marshadow & dusknoir. (I know marshadow is technically a mythological pokemon, BUT look at that fucker).

- idk i just like the concept of one having a giant of a beast + the other having the vessel of soulless eyes, it makes me giggle

Capt. Jenna

- arcanine. she’s so officer jenny coded idc what anyone says. ALSO i am a buff!jenna believer, I genuinely will not tolerate anything else. she’s pretty, she’s buff, she’s powerful <3

if you actually made it all the way to the bottom, pls know i love you. also. if you’re as obsessed with pkm and lads as i am, SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS AND HEADCANONS WITH ME !!!?? i will love you forever.

mwah <3

[dewracle]

Vessel's ABC's

PAIRING - Vessel x reader, Vessel x polyves (Briefly mentioned)

WARNING - NSFW! Mentions of breeding kink, sexual piercings, cum play, overstimulation

AUTHOR'S NOTE - Hello my lovies! I've been sitting on this for a while now, I thought it would be best to slowly start doing headcanons and blurbs to work myself back into writing. I hope yall enjoy!

WORD COUNT - 1,177

Master List

❥ A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

➛ As soon as the both of you cum, he’s kissing your face softly praising you for how good you did for him.  ➛ Always gets up and gets you some of your favorite snackies and drinks, will gently rub your back while you eat. 

❥ B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

➛ His? He loves his stomach, cannot tell me otherwise. Why else would he always have it on display? ➛ Yours? Your eyes, he loves to stare into them as he’s gently rubbing your sides pulling you closer. 

❥ C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

➛ Haha he paints you pretty with his cum, purposely pulling out just to cum on either your hole or face.  ➛ Pretty boy also will crave your cum, please give it to him or he’ll beg

❥ D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

➛ Creepy and dirty? Yes please.  ➛ Has stalked his partners, still means he has seen you masturbate, watching the way you pleasure yourself. Yeah so when yall do fuck, he knows how to please you. 

❥ E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

➛ Fairly experienced. He has had multiple partners in the past, and considering he has multiple now, I’d say he knows what��s going on. 

❥ F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

➛Our boy is a romantic man, he’ll take you from behind in a spooning position. He’ll wrap his hand around your throat while pulling you back, kissing you while hooking one of your legs over his hips. Yeah...

❥ G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

➛ Pretty serious in the moment. He can sometimes crack a joke when he can tell you’re struggling. 

❥ H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

➛ Very neatly trimmed. He loves his happy trail and thinks it’s enjoyable when you run your hands down it to grab his cock

❥ I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

➛ It’s intense but it varies on the scene y’all have set.  ➛ Can be very romantic and loving when yall are making love. Sweet kisses and gentle touches  ➛ But he can also fuck you till you’re crying and begging for him to stop. 

❥ J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

➛ Sweet boy barely gets time to Jack off and empty his balls. He’s always so stressed out with the band and then having to deal with Sleep.  ➛ But when he does it's because he away from you, he’s touching himself slowly, dipping his hand into his pants, biting his lip to stop the breathy moan...

❥ K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

➛ I’ll give you the top kinks... ➛Ownership. He loves to feel like he owns someone like they need him.  ➛ Breeding kink. Gods the man just wants to put a baby in you even if you can’t carry it.  ➛ Dare I say.. daddy kink? Just the reaction to you calling him daddy.. think about it. 

❥ L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

➛ Woods. Yup, he loves the woods the most. Loves taking you near where all the offers are given. Offering YOU up like the finest treat to Sleep...

❥ M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

➛ Gotta say his biggest turn-on might be your support. He feels safe and loved with you around.. it just makes his cock unbelievably hard for you.  ➛ Bonus: if you are into it, seeing you wear a collar with his name on it. 

❥ N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

➛ Public sex. I don’t see him being the type to take you in front of people yall don’t know. He likes to keep that separate and away from the fans 

❥ O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

➛ REALLY likes receiving it, I mean openingly moaning, pulling you closer by the back of your neck, face fucking you. Loves it so fucking much.  ➛ Will give it but always takes more than what you offer. Pushing you into overstimulation as his mouth just works over you…like I said, he really likes your cum

❥ P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

➛ It can vary but most of the time even when it’s a rough dirty fuck in the back of the bus, he likes to go slow… Takes his time to feel you wrapped around him while he drags moan after moan out of you. 

❥ Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

➛ “Quickie” you say… he doesn’t do fast fucks. Yes, he’ll take you when he needs you but he likes to savor your taste and your pleasure. 

❥ R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

➛ He doesn’t like to risk his identity being shown, so nothing like public stuff.  ➛ Will try new things as long as it’s discussed beforehand. Safety matters in his eyes. 

❥ S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

➛ Forgive me god for I have sinned.  ➛ You CANNOT tell me he doesn’t last for hours!! Of course, he’ll cum but he’ll get right back at it!!  ➛ Have you seen the way he’s always on stage singing? And he goes to the gym? He knows he can fuck for a while so buckle in. 

❥ T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

➛ Owns a Fleshlight and a cock ring. Sometimes he likes to use them on the other vessels soo... ➛ Will be open to using any toys you bring into the bedroom, might forget about them if I’m honest. 

❥ U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

➛ Constantly. Fucking constantly teasing. He will have you wet/hard the whole fucking day and then IGNORE you when you beg for him to fuck you.  ➛ He knows you like it when he doesn’t wear a shirt, purposely taking it off in front of you and pushing his pants down just low enough that there’s a happy trail...

❥ V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

➛ If he’s in control he’s kinda quiet, just groaning and sometimes moaning.  ➛ Does whisper in your ear from time to time, “Fuck darling.. you're sucking my cock in so well.. need that don’t you”

❥ W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

➛ Love me or hate me.. he has a prince Albert.. thank you. 

❥ X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

➛ Some piercings here and there (cough on his dick)  ➛ Does have some scars from sacrificing blood to Sleep.. and from you. 

❥ Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

➛ He wants you every day of every hour. Reasonable he knows he can’t have you all the time but he’ll try his damnest to. 

❥ Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

➛ My version of the vessels don’t really sleep.. but if he does fall asleep good luck waking him up. Will sleep for 3 days at a time. 

Master List

[gildedneon]

That Which I Cannot See

That Which I Cannot See - Part 2 - Diamonds in the Trees

Respectfully, you may not use my work, but you are welcome to share it. My work is only intended for those 18 and older as it contains explicit adult themes.

Summary: In this part of our story, Vessel invites you to a Halloween masquerade ball for a little game of cat and mouse.

Pairing: Vessel x Fem!Reader 

Tags: Hand stuff , mask play, concealed identity play, exhibitionism (sorta), sex in public spaces (privately), dub con, magical paint that won't throw off your Ph, dirty talk, and a bit of cardio.

Word Count: 5.6k(felt like way more but okay???)

A/N: I took my time with this one and had fun exploring new things. I didn't get to finish all of my ideas, so look for a bonus scene before part 3 comes out by end of year.

Part 1

Read on Ao3

-----------

Warm water ran black as I washed my hands of the paint that now marked my neck. A near perfect recreation of Vessel’s work from that first night together. I was going for a goth macabre angel vibe. The mask I would be wearing would not be obscuring my vision this time, with cutouts to show off the smoky eye I had spent the past half hour perfecting. Strategically painted gold drips down my cheeks, running from my eyes. The perfect compliment to my gown.

Golden layers of fabric lay like feathers at the sleeves. Gold detailing trails down from the sweetheart neckline through the black cinched waist, layering into more feathering along the hips. My favorite part was the hidden pockets. I hated having to carry a purse with me and I didn’t want to be without my phone and lipstick. Layers and layers of panels of black tulle comprised the skirt. The separate panels would allow for infinite thigh slits, unrestricted movement, and access should the night take me there. A few taps on my phone and I was Facetiming Kallie to get her seal of approval while I started working on my hair. 

“Holy shit you look hot and spooky! Backup so I can see the dress.” Following her instructions, I give my skirts a little swish to and fro. 

“Thank you, thank you, I worked really hard to put this together and I am so proud. But I gotta finish my up-do.” Approaching the counter, I get to work on just that.

“I am honored to see your vision come to life. He’s gonna die when he sees you. Speaking of, how is he?” The look of nonchalance on my face sets her off before I can even respond.

“What’s going on? Like what’s up with you two?“You’ve been talking for weeks and he flies you across the pond for some fancy ass party, just so you guys can what? Casually go to the royal Halloween ball together? Is that really what you’re gonna sit here and tell me?” I wince but my lips quirk up at her teasing.

“Yeah, Kallie it is. What else would you like me to say? Why’s it gotta be more than that? I’m not trying to uproot my life. I like how things are... Why can’t it just be fun? It doesn’t have to be so serious.” I continue to wrangle my hair into some sort of abstract shape atop my head.

“You’re so right you’re soooo right. It’s so casual being flown overseas and casually put up in a whole ass suite with a very casual private driver.” 

“Say casual one more time…”

“Casual.” Rolling my eyes, I stifle my laugh, and continue jabbing pins into my mess of curls.

“One step at a time please. I just want to enjoy what I’ve got while I’ve got it. Live in the moment, you know?” Satisfied that my hair is contained, I dust gold powder over my body.

Her tone softens. “I just don’t want you settling for less than what you truly want. Dream a little. Have a little hope for the things you’re scared to want.” I slide a headband halo of gold spikes into place in front of my messy updo.

“Yeah yeah I know… But not tonight!” Fitting my mask to my face, I grin at my reflection. The mask covers from the tops of my cheeks, up to my hairline. Intricate feathering spans at my temples, and the gold dripping from underneath is exactly the look I wanted. 

“Soooo, how do I look?” Letting the gold gleam in the bathroom light as I show off for my best friend.

“Ooooo yes you look so fucking perfect! Take lots of pictures!! When is he picking you up?” 

“Well, he did offer to pick me up and ride together but then he also suggested we could arrive separately and ‘see what fate has in store for us this evening’.. Ya know? Make a little game out of it.” My hands gesture dramatically as I impersonate his voice.

“You’re a little too good at that impression ya know. Ooo so he has to hunt you down! Does he know what you’re wearing???” 

“Nope and I don’t know what he’s wearing either. We have to see if we can find each other. Oh shit what happens if we don’t? I didn’t think about it like that. How many people do you think will be there?” A tight feeling blossoms in my chest.

“Heyyy don’t psych yourself out. Trust the universe girl. There could be a million people there and I bet he’d find you.”

“Please don’t say something cheesy and cliche.” Cutting her off, I paint my lips a liquid gold.

“FINE. I won’t. But if it were me, you’d tell me that even if you never see him, you’re going to an amazing once in a lifetime event full of opportunity and your experience doesn’t need to rely on another person… You look stunning. Go have fun, don’t wait around. Do the things you want to do. Be safe, be slutty, and text me when you get back.” Laughing, I give myself a final look over in the mirror, blow her a kiss, and end the call.

Off I go to play with fate.

The ride there was surprisingly relaxing. Kallie was right. I just need to focus on myself and have fun no matter what. The tightness in my chest loosens briefly but takes a new shape as a masked valet helps me out of the car. People in all sorts of costumes stream from cars and into the estate looming before me. Shrugging on a false confidence, I follow suit.

Sipping my drink, I stroll the ornate rooms, taking in the sights of costumes both spooky and spicy. There are so many people. I don’t think I was fully aware of how much we were putting in fate’s hands. With this amount of guests, there was a very good chance the whole night could pass without us so much as being within 50 ft of one another. But oh well. This is about enjoying myself no matter what. I’ve been wandering for half an hour without the faintest idea of what his costume is. Music wafts from a not so distant room, and I follow it like a siren call. Weaving through the crowd, I make my way to the dance floor of a beautiful ballroom. Elegant dresses whirl past me. Someone taps my shoulder. A man with a harlequin type costume, bows slightly and extends a hand. He’s tall, but I don’t think he’s tall enough. Could it be? But the hand he offers me is not the one I had become so familiar with. Still, I take it and let him sweep me along to the resonating strings.

Consumed by the swirling colors and beautiful music, I’ve lost track of time. This must be my third partner. The music stops. My partner bows before me, stepping back. Sensation sweeps along my bare back, causing my skin to prickle and my neck to heat. Looking over my shoulder, I scan the masked faces, searching. Music starts anew and the beating of my heart intensifies. The music begins again but with a fresh intensity. Once again, I am twirling across the dance floor. My partner spins me out and another grabs my outstretched hand, twirling me into a suit of peacock blues and greens. He leads me in this new waltz. Just as I am getting comfortable with his flow, I’m spun out and into the hand of another. Each passing partner is a stranger. This pattern repeats as I lose myself in the music. 

A jolt shoots up my arm as I’m handed off to another. My eyes dart to the black painted hand holding mine. A flitting feeling awakens inside my chest. Dressed in black accented by the darkest red, this partner is a menacing sight to behold. Mostly because his mask is as unsettling as it is striking. The intricate blood red weavings that comprise it are hauntingly beautiful. The top shoots upwards into a cathedral crown. A black hood streams down, covering the rest of his head. The unsettling part is how not only are the eyes completely obscured, but two black skeleton hands rest atop where the eyes should be. In his signature style, the only part exposed is his mouth. He gives my hand a gentle squeeze and a smile spreads across my lips. White teeth flash in a monstrous grin against his painted skin. A shiver runs down my spine. He looks so inhuman with this facade. But his touch is familiar and grounding. The beat of my heart picks up as I acclimate, to my hand held in his, and to his hand resting low on my back, lower than others dared to go. Lower than would be considered polite. His touch, yet again, an intimate gesture for all to see.

He pulls me into focus, everything around us fading into the background. The distance between us has me aching for his full touch. Memories of our last night together flitter through my mind and heat rushes through me. He flashes me a wicked grin, as if he knows… and perhaps he does. He twirls me out and I am whisked away by another, and someone new is in his arms. 

A couple of partners later, the song comes to an end. I nod my thanks to the gentleman in front of me, and make my way to the refreshments, assuming Ves is on his way to me. But maybe he isn’t because now I’m stuck in the crowd, sipping my drink, and I can’t catch sight of him. I notice the orchestra packing up their instruments. How odd. Is the music really over so early in the night? What time is it? Before I can reach for my phone, that strange sensation prickles the back of my neck again. Turning my head, I see no trace of the red skeleton crown. Fingers skate across the bare skin of my upper back. I whip around, but he’s not there. Instinct guides me forward, making my way into the hall. Blood red coattails flutter around a corner. I hastily follow suit. 

Surprisingly the crowd has thinned. I skim the costumes, none are familiar. Turning down a corridor, my stomach tumbles at the sight of his mask staring at me. Cautiously, I make my way to him. 

Taking my hand in his, he lifts it to his mouth, placing a kiss along my knuckles. The faintest bit of gold gleams on his lips.

“Thank you for accompanying me this evening.” His voice is a breath of fresh air. 

“Thank you for bringing me. I’ve never been to a Halloween masquerade before. Especially not at a fancy estate.” Succumbing to the urge, I allow my fingers to trace the lines of his vest.

“I think I rather enjoy giving you new experiences” His purr rumbles through my fingertips.

“As do I... I hope there will be more. The costumes here are all so fantastic.” 

“Ah so I’m fantastic now?”

“Ha. Ha. Yours is more than fantastic but honestly it’s also a little scary.” 

“And is that not what you wanted?” He smirks.

“I did say that didn’t I…” I think back to that night in the dressing room. 

Do you want to be scared of me? Maybe a little. …maybe a lot

“I’m not used to seeing you look like this. It’s unsettling. You look like a stranger. A very ominous imposing stranger and that’s what is scary about it. But I’m into it because it’s you.”

“What about me makes it okay?” Placing an arm against the wall, he leans into me. The familiarity of his voice contrasts with the frightening facade. 

“I trust you. I feel safe with you.” And it’s true. I trust him with exploring things that are unfamiliar and out of my comfort zone. I trust him enough to feel safe even when I’m afraid and that excites me.

“Well trust that we are going to have fun tonight.” Suggestion rides on the lilt of his voice.

“I’m already having fun.” I tease, dancing my fingers along his shirt. A painted hand trails up my arm, tracing the blackened streaks running down my neck. Shivers ripple in his wake and I instinctively shift closer. My gaze is locked on his smirk. Desire curls inside of me as I remember the way his mouth felt against my neck.

“I still think about our first night together.” As if he read my mind. His wandering hand finds its way down to my hip, as he leans in closer. “What did I tell you? How I would remember the way you felt wrapped around my fingers.” His hand slides down from my hip, gripping the back of my thigh as he turns me. Pressing my back against the wall, with his thigh between my legs. “Because I have.”

“Do you remember the feel of me?” He asks, and the way his thigh moves against me has me shuddering. I nod and try to shift my hips, but he holds firm, not allowing an inch. I can feel myself pulsing against his thigh.

“I want to hear you say it.” Of course he does. 

“Yes” It comes out as a plea, one he obliges with the shift of his leg. The friction sends sparks shooting through me. 

“And what do you remember?” My thoughts are lost in the haze of lust.

“What?” He leans right into my ear, voice rumbling.

“How did I feel?” My eyes widen at his words. I feel my face warm.

“Ves, we’re at a party.” I hiss. Although that very fact fuels the flames more.

“And we’re enjoying ourselves. Don’t worry love, nobody is paying us any mind. All of these people are too worried about themselves. They might assume we are having an intimate conversation. And that is what we are having… is it not?” I nod and he shifts his leg against me in reward.

“As I was saying… Now do you still want more of me?” Clinging to him, I bob my head in affirmation.

“Maybe I’ll steal you away to someplace dark where no one will hear you scream.” I let out a shaky breath, as heat rushes through me. His head turns, our lips mere inches apart, sending my heart racing. Suddenly, a deep thrumming rattles through the hall. Both of us tilt our heads. 

“What is that?” I ask. His grip on me loosens as he leans back.

“Why don’t you go find out?”

“Are you not coming with me?” That creepy mask tilts along with his head. I feel his reasoning press against me before he pulls fully away from me.

“You run along ahead, I’ll find you later.” I straighten out my skirts, not ready for the fun to be over just yet.

“What if you don’t?” He shakes his head and his lips quirk up.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Exhaling my nervous breath, I give a slight smile and turn on my heel, hastily moving towards the source of the beat.

The ballroom has transformed since I was spinning under the golden chandeliers. Red and purple lighting fills the space with a spooky touch. A costumed DJ sits upon a small stage, laser lights flickering out around the setup. I slink my way through the pulsing crowd, finding comfortable spaces to stop and lose myself in the throbbing mass. I let the beat pulse through me as I roll my body with a rhythm that is my own. No worrying about how I look, just focusing on what feels good. Most everyone seems caught in their own trance. For a second, I miss Vessel. I imagine what it would be like to dance with him like this. Feel his hands on me, something I seem to be longing for tonight. I can almost feel his phantom touch, my body writhing into it. And then I let go of that thought and continue weaving through the crowd, finding the perfect spot. 

The beat drops and my attention snags on the woman in front of me dressed as a silver princess. She takes notice as well and our movements begin to sync, bringing us closer. I’m vaguely aware of the masked prince dancing behind her, watching us intently. A coy smile splays across her mouth as she closes the gap between us, things taking a more sensual turn. Like how my gaze flickers over her soft curves and lingers on her lips. Like the way the fabric of our gowns brush against each other, the space between us is ever shrinking. Her fingertips dance along my arm, I tentatively mirror her movements. The prince’s arm comes around her waist, pulling her back a bit, and I follow, leaning in to her. Our gaze darting between each other’s lips. Her eyelids flutter and a large hand wraps firmly around my throat. Another gripping my hip, pulling me back against a firm body. That familiar voice is in my ear “I don’t feel like sharing tonight, perhaps another time” His tone is playful but carries that now familiar edge of darkness.

His painted hand slides down my arm, grasping my hand in his. Bringing our joined hands to rest on my stomach, he pulls me flush against him. This wasn’t anything like dancing in college, with random dudes grinding themselves against you without so much as an acknowledging glance. I welcome the way his body holds mine as I move freely to the music. His hips move with me, matching my rhythm. The brief friction from the evidence of his arousal sends ripples of excitement through me. I let my head fall back against his chest and my free hand slides to his thigh. My grip tightens as I drag my hand up and down his leg. I feel the rumble of warning in his chest. But I’m having fun with this. I am fully signed up and on board for what I’m getting myself into. Slowly, I move our joined hands lower on my stomach, down, down, until my fingers dance over the apex of my thighs. His hand spasms over mine, as if to stop me, and for a second I wonder if he will. But then he gives my hand a firm nudge. My hand moves under his, providing just a taste of what I crave. No one can see, not that anyone is looking. Everyone is so engrossed in their own experience. Acting like we are alone in a sea of hundreds is thrilling. I can feel him grind against me and it makes me ache for more. There’s no way that touching myself through my dress is going to do much other than get me hot and bothered. He knows it too. My grip on his thigh flexes with the little waves of pleasure I manage to elicit. His left hand grips my hip harder. Each press of our bodies makes me ache to have him inside of me. His hold on my hip tightens to a painful degree. Holding me so still I can no longer dance. He lifts my hand and drags me from the ballroom.

Mindlessly, I let him lead me through hallways, the crowd thins out, and then we are outside on a spacious balcony. The cool air soothes my heated skin, as I look out at the gardens. His thumb brushes over my knuckles.

“Shall we continue our fun?” My head tilts in response.

“Let’s explore the maze. I bet I can find that dark place to drag you to where no one will hear you scream. Give me a bit of a head start.” My brows shoot up.

“You want me to come find you? Like hide and seek?”

“Oh you won’t need to find me. I’ll find you. And when I do, you might want to run.”

My brow furrows. Spooky costume or not, does he really expect me to run from him? Wouldn’t that be a little thrilling though? I wonder to myself and before I know it, he’s slipped down the stairs and sauntering off into the dark maze. I use these few minutes to study what I can of the maze’s layout. As if it will help me when I’m turned around inside.

Guided by a moonlit path, It’s a bit eerie how there’s no one around. I thought at least some people would be out here but aside from the few stragglers making out on benches near the entrance, I find myself alone. I’ve been wandering for a bit of time now. Oh god, what if I get lost? And I’m stuck out here for who knows how long? A prickle of awareness brings a rustling sound into sharp focus. Whipping around, there’s no one to be seen on the path. I must be getting jumpy being alone out here. I continue around the bend, pretty sure that somewhere up ahead there is an entrance to a hidden garden I had spied from the balcony. Despite my efforts, another rustling sound has goosebumps running along my arms. There’s an archway up ahead on the right, leading away from my destination. As I grow near I swear I see a glimpse of something in the shadowy alcove. My steps falter, tension gathers in the pit of my stomach. Okay maybe this is scarier than I gave him credit for. Steeling my nerves, I walk up to the archway. To my relief, the shadow was a fountain. Laughing, I stop to listen to its babbling stream. I register movement from out of the shadows and in that instant, fear reawakens, and I take off. Gathering my skirts, I run down the straight away, tiny branches clawing at the fabric of my skirt as I round the corner. I hear the growl of my name, a voice that's familiar but so foreign. Uncertainty grips my chest and propels me forward. 

There’s an archway coming up on the left. If my memory serves correct, this opens into one of the small gardens within the maze. That would give me a shot at losing the danger at my heels. My lungs are screaming for air as I round the bend, relief is brief as I am correct about the garden. I dart into one of the alcoves, pressing my back against a stone column. As I work to steady my breathing, I gather my skirts to stay out of view. With my back to the garden, all I can see is the sculpture and bench in this alcove. Over the roaring in my ears, I hear the crunch of gravel working its way around the space. My breathing begins to settle, and the crunching grows faint… then silent. I wait for what feels like an eternity, before peeking out around the column. All I see is the fountain in the middle and more alcoves lining the perimeter. There are two entrances from the maze. I figure my best bet is to go back the way I came and try and find my way out of this place. My heart is still beating faster than usual. I take a deep breath to steady myself and head towards the exit. Just as I am about to walk through the opening, strong arms grab me, pulling me back against a firm body. 

The scream I let out is instantly muffled by a large hand. I’m spun around and sent forward, back towards my hiding place. Squirming against the restraint, I try to move my arms but they are locked firmly in place by the arm wrapped around my waist. My wrists twist, swiping my claw like nails at anything I can grab. My captor pushes me with them, taking us into the alcove. Before the panic sets in, I am released. I stumble forward and whirl around, my hands instinctively coming up in defense. 

But I recognize that terrifying mask and towering physique. Fear dissolves, the embers of my desire stir awake in a consuming blaze. Anger joins the mix, my fists clench. I raise a hand, and just as I open my mouth to say whatever the hell it was that I was going to say, he crashes into me. His hand cradles the back of my head, the other pulls me flush against him as his mouth clashes with mine. It's messy and out of sync, but after a few beats my anger ebbs and liquid heat takes its place. His lips slow against mine, in an almost apologetic way. But I don’t need apologies for a game I’m delighting in. I grip the front of his vest, pulling our bodies impossibly closer. His teeth nip at my lower lip, my answering gasp grants his tongue entrance. Our tangled kiss deepens and my hold on him tightens in a silent plea. 

He steps into me, guiding me back until I feel the rough stone of the column against my skin once again. His hands push through tulle until I feel his warm touch against my thighs. Flinging the material to the side, he wastes no time, sliding a finger through my arousal and into my waiting heat. I moan into his mouth as he strokes me in a firm caress. His mouth pulls away, but only an inch. Little whimpers from my lips ghost across his own. He starts to slide a second finger inside of me and as I choke back a moan, he stops.

“I think you know better than that” He growls. I nod in agreement and make no attempts to diminish the sounds I make as he adds a second finger.

“I told you I would take you where no one could hear you scream. I also told you that I am not in the mood to share. No one’s coming.” I wasn’t sure if that was a promise or a threat.

I couldn’t help the way my thighs clenched around his hand, nor the sounds of his slick fingers. I’m not sure what I did to deserve him stopping suddenly, but the air left my lungs as he removed his hand from inside me and brought it to his mouth. Seemingly savoring the taste of me. Next thing I know, he’s setting me down on the bench. 

“Move those pretty skirts for me.” I hastily do as he says as he kneels before me. An eerie thrill shoots through me as I now stare at his mask. I think he’s staring between my legs but I can’t tell with those macabre skeleton hands so close to such an intimate part of me. His hand coasts below my knee, lifting my leg onto the bench, baring me completely. Thankful for the wooden slats behind me, I lean back, bracing myself as I feel his tongue’s first languid lap. The most elegant torture, to have him take his time devouring me, while I burn to be filled completely by him. When his fingers entered me once again, my back arched and I almost screamed at the satisfaction. But he and I both know it’s not enough. I’m too eager for more to allow myself to find release like this. Mustering what little self control I have at the moment, I push at his shoulder with my heeled foot. Reluctantly, he rocks back, his head tilting at an inquisitive angle. For a moment, I’m so distracted by the smear gold, black, and revealed skin around his mouth that I almost forget what I was going to request.

“Switch places with me.” Despite the mask, I swear his eyebrows shot up, and he oblidges. Offering a hand, painted black save for two fingers, my cheeks heat at the sight. He pulls me to my feet, my legs a little wobbly, but he ensures I’m steady before taking a seat. Now it’s my turn to kneel before him, grateful for my thick skirts and the smooth stone under us. My hands are quick to undo his pants, but he assists, pulling himself from the confines of his pants. My mouth falls open at the sight of his impressive and potentially intimidating length. God, I’m so impatient I almost jump him right there, but I will myself to slow down, to savor the feel of him as I take him in my hand, as I run my tongue up his length. Air hisses from between his teeth as I lick teasing stripes. I take him into my mouth. Hollowing my cheeks, I gently bob my head. Working to accommodate him into my too small mouth, saliva runs down to where I begin to work him with my hand. His heavy breathes and soft rumbling moans stroke my ego but are wearing my selfish patience thin. I’m delighted to return the favor, but I’m eager for what comes next. And it seems I’m not alone in that, as I feel his grip on my shoulder, pulling my mouth off of him with a wet pop. 

His mouth looks like he’s trying to find the words to speak, as I rise from the ground, holding my skirts out of the way, and climb into his lap, his hands coming to steady my hips. Without pause, I reach down and guide him to my slick entrance. I brace a hand on his shoulder as I sink down, enveloping him. A sound between a moan and a sob leaves my lips when he hits a spot deep inside me.

“Fuck, you feel better than I ever could have imagined” He grinds out. 

“So do you” I pant as I seat myself, twitches of pleasure jolt through me. As I acclimate, I search the skeleton hands for any sign of him. But I’m met with nothing but the frightening facade. In this moment, I wish I could see his eyes… ease biting thrill of the unknown. His thumbs stroke my hips, bringing me back to where we are connected. Shifting my focus to his mouth, I can’t help but smile at how ruined he looks. With his pale skin revealed under the smears of black and gold paint. Lord, I can only imagine what my own looks like. How anyone would know what we got up to with just one look at us. That thought sends a shiver through me. I rock my hips and start to move. I clutch at his shoulders as the stretch of him begins to consume me. My eyes flutter as I ride him. Playing with different angles, creating a rhythm that has me clamping down on him. Our moans dance in the air between us as we are lost in the feel of each other at last. His grip tightens until he is aiding in my rhythm, lifting and pulling at my hips. The push and drag of him inside of me drives me higher, my pace becoming more deliberate. I reach my hand down, fingers seeking out the spot to send me over the edge. Pleasure blinds me, hindering my necessary pace. As I falter, he takes over, gripping my hips as he lifts me up and down. Parts of my body are limp, the others taught as I spin closer and closer. And then I’m sobbing into his chest as fall over the edge. I collapse onto him as I shake and shiver around him. The subsiding shockwaves are both pleasurable and exhausting. 

“Take a moment, because I am not done with you yet” It sounds like a threat and a promise and instantly my body clenches around where he is still hard inside me. He laughs. “Do you think you can stand?” 

“Probably but why would I?” I wiggle my hips with a sigh. Gripping me, he rolls my hips once, twice, then pulls me off of him. I pout. He points at the sculpture in the alcove. I take a shaky step towards it, and he rises behind me. I begin to turn towards him, but he pulls my hips, bending me over. My hands fly out, catching myself on the ledge, and he nudges my feet apart.

“Sadly, there is not enough time left to this night to satiate my desires.” He parts my skirt and wastes no time sliding into the hilt.

“Now that I’ve had all of you, how could this ever be enough?” Each word punctuated with a thrust of his hips. My knees go weak from the pleasure and I tighten my hold on the statue as he picks up speed. Tears spring into my eyes at the onslaught of sensations. There is no space for words between the cries from my lips. I am at his mercy. One of his hands creeps between my legs, but if I have another orgasm here I think he would need to carry me from this garden. I drag his hand up to my chest instead and he works his hand beneath the fabric, teasing me with those skilled fingers. My legs tremble as I near my limit. My cries turn to borderline sobs. He slows for a few seconds and then sets a punishing pace. 

“Make no mistake. I am not done with you yet.” He growls. As his grip tightens, his thrusting becomes erratic. Just as my legs begin to buckle, he pulls out, spilling himself into the bushes. 

“Well… the night is still young.” I try to keep my voice even despite my labored breath. “Why don’t we go back to that lovely hotel you got me?” ---- ~Bonus chapter can be found here~

[mikavlcs]

Dog Days

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Summary: The help you need to confess to your crush winds up coming from an incredibly unlikely (and furry) source.

Warnings: ooc!wednesday, hints of bad poetry lol, bad writing, this is another very unserious story

Word count: 3.3k

Notes: the poetry part of this request kicked my ass and you can tell LMFAO. sorry it took so long (and sorry it kinda sucks), but i hope you guys enjoy!

Masterlist | Bonus

Confessing your feelings to someone you like was one of the most profound plights a person could ever face, you’ve decided.

Because to you, right now, there was no greater challenge to overcome, no finer show of courage than to look her in the eye and profess the nebulous depths of your infatuation without keeling over midsentence.

And this anxiety would be easier to conquer if the girl you had caught feelings for was a normie, or really any other outcast housed within Nevermore’s four walls.

But your crush was Wednesday Addams, and that more than justified the intense fear that came with the possibility of confessing.

For the past semester, Wednesday had been assigned to sit at your table in Botany, meaning that you two were almost always lab and project partners in that class. Throughout that time, she wasn’t exactly nice to you, but you’ve yet to be on the receiving end of her notoriously colorful threats, so you figured that put you somewhere friend-adjacent on the small girl’s relationship scale.

That made trying to confess to her no easier, however. Because she could literally just kill you if she decided it wasn’t good enough. If she decided you weren’t good enough.

You hoped knew she wouldn’t considering your short but cordial history, but she technically could.

Now despite her reputation (and the previously outlined possibility of murder), Wednesday never scared you. She certainly tried. You’d lost count of how many grisly medieval torture facts she offered up while working together, but they never had the intended effect of instilling fear into you. Not even once. The absurdity of it made you laugh more often than not.

But, while she didn’t scare you, she did intimidate you. Even now, months and a fully developed crush later, she could render you speechless with a single look.

That immediately did away with the possibility of a verbal confession since you were sure your vocal cords would cease operation before you could even properly start, leaving you staring at her like an idiot. So you were left to figure out another way. And after days of careful deliberation, you decided upon the vessel with which you would confess your feelings.

A poem.

Yes, it was stupid and cliché, but it was something you were familiar with, and you figured Wednesday might have at least some appreciation for it considering she herself was an aspiring writer. But very soon, you came face to face with a problem.

Wednesday herself constantly strived for perfection in every facet of life, so you knew that if anyone were to attempt to court her, she would be expecting no less from them as well.

Everything about this poem—diction, rhythm, rhyme, form—had to be superlative, efficient while effectively flawless.

It needed to be perfect and you just…couldn’t get it there.

Attempt after attempt wound up in your garbage, the papers overflowing out of the small pail by your desk while your hope slowly diminished with each failure. After the 27th trashed page, you knew you needed to stop and recoup.

This approach obviously wasn’t working, so you had to find a different one and to do that, you needed incentive. You needed inspiration. You needed the creative ascension that came with reading good, fresh poetry.

The only issue was that all of your poetry collections were well-worn, memorized from cover to cover. Though you could never tire of them, you knew they wouldn’t provide the spark of creativity you needed.

So you took a trip to the small bookstore in Jericho since the school library had very little in the way of poetry and picked up a few that caught your eye.

You were on your way to catch the shuttle back when you heard it.

A high-pitched yip rose from the alley you had just walked past, making you pause. Curious (and without much else to do), you stepped back to peer into the alley, and you let out a gasp.

Just down the alleyway was a small puppy, covered head to toe in gorgeous gold fur. A golden retriever, your mind helpfully supplied. He didn’t notice you, entirely too preoccupied tearing up an old newspaper to care about your gawking, but you were entranced.

And without your usual forms of impulse control (your teachers and parents) there with you, your mind was made up in an instant.

A twenty-minute trip to the local pet store saw you ready to leave town a few hundred dollars lighter and many bags heavier. You got all the essentials—food, toys, a collar and a leash, a bed, bowls, and whatnot.

All that was left was getting the dog.

Quietly approaching, you set your bags down against the mouth of the alleyway and crept closer to the puppy, careful not to startle him as he stalked a bug of some sort. Once you were within a few feet, you crouched and tore open one of the treat bags you bought. The noise got the retriever’s attention, and he stopped his pursuit to watch you, intrigued.

A soft smile made its way onto your face while you fished a treat out and held it out. It took no time at all for the pup to curiously trot over. He sniffed it for a moment, thoroughly inspecting the cookie before devouring it and looking back up at you expectantly, tail wagging furiously in the air behind him.

With a laugh, you offered him another one, then another, and another. And just like that, a friendship was formed.

The driver barely gave you a second glance when you waltzed into the shuttle with your bags and the dog, just waited for you to be seated and pulled off onto the main road. Definitely not protocol, but you imagined he wasn’t being paid nearly enough to care.

When Nevermore’s castle-like features came into view ten minutes later, you realized with a jolt that there was one thing you hadn’t accounted for: actually trying to smuggle this puppy into the school.

Given that the shuttle was already parked, you had no time for strategy. As you stepped back onto campus, your only plan was to make a mad dash for your dorm. And, after tucking the puppy inside your shirt, that’s exactly what you did. Or tried to do. You only got halfway through your journey when Yoko intercepted you in one of the halls.

“Hey! I see someone went shopping today,” she commented, giving the plethora of bags you were holding a humorous look. “Preparing for a zombie outbreak or something?”

“Something like that,” you answered, taking a step around her, but she moved with you and started matching your hurried strides.

“So, you ready for that Vampire Anatomy test tomorrow? Personally, I think I’m gonna ace it,” she smiled, fangs flashing in the overhead light. You shot her a look, because, of course, a vampire would ace that test.

You opened your mouth, a scathing retort on the tip of your tongue, but the pup chose that moment to show his restlessness, flailing his little limbs violently under the fabric of your shirt.

“Uh,” Yoko slowed at your side, brows drawn above her sunglasses. She pointed at your stomach, where the puppy was violently squirming. “What’s going on there?”

You glanced away, mouth opening and closing. Hard as you tried to come up with a plausible excuse, none came, so you said the first thing that came to mind.

“I’m pregnant.”

Poor Yoko looked positively baffled. You ran before she could say anything else.

The sprint back to your dorm was blessedly uneventful, allowing you to stumble inside with minimal issue. Thankfully, your roommate was out, so you wouldn’t need to deal with any more questions for the time being. You set the puppy down on the floor, letting him explore his new surroundings while you set his things up.

Once his bed, bowls, and toys were in place, your attention turned to another pressing issue. The pup needed a name.

Dozens of names crossed your mind in the minutes that followed, but none of them fit the energetic boy in front of you. Pondering, you watched leisurely as the retriever dragged his new leash across the floor. The sunlight pouring through the window softly bounced off his golden fur while he pranced around your room, leash still securely in his mouth.

A metaphorical light bulb clicked on and in that moment, you gave him the most beautiful, poetic name your mind graced you with.

-

“Choklit!”

The puppy in question froze and looked up at you, short tail wagging dutifully. He was already giving you his best puppy dog eyes, but you knew better than to fall for them. You moved to stand in front of him, hands on your hips.

“We’ve talked about this. Edgar Allen Poe’s collected works are not a chew toy!” You moved the book away from him, held up a blue squeaky toy in its place. “This is what you play with, got it?”

He offered you a yip in response, tail wagging a mile a minute as you handed him the bone-shaped toy. “And remember, play lightly!” you tagged on as he tumbled off his bed.

Principal Weems hesitantly allowed you to keep the puppy on the agreement that your roommate agreed to him (which she did, ecstatically) and that he not be too loud in the room. By some miracle of god, you had been able to abide by that rule for the past two weeks.

Hopefully, your luck would persist.

With him placated, you turned back to the task at hand—finishing your poem. It was coming together, a solid vision of your end goal forming. And after another ten minutes of brainstorming the last line—a woefully overdramatic would you go on a date with me? that hopefully wouldn’t get you killed in your sleep—it was finished.

You pushed back against your desk and leaned your head against the back of your chair, taking a moment to rest. Then, sitting back up, you reread the poem carefully.

A wave of inadequacy crashed into you as you ran back through the words you just wrote. Something about it just wasn’t right, but you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what.

Was the rhythm off? Were the rhymes varied enough? Outside of that, was your prose structured competently? Was the poem too much? Was it not enough? Five rereads only heeded more questions and no answers.

Frustrated, you balled the paper up and threw it behind you, already priming another paper to begin the poem anew.

The telltale pattering of paws reached your ears, turning to find Choklit nosing at the crumbled paper. With a sigh, you walked over and went to pick it up. “Sorry, bud, but my personal failures as a poet are not your toys.”

Choklit, thinking it was a game, quickly snatched the ball up in his mouth and bowed, sending light growls your way. Though you knew it wouldn’t help, you raised your hands in surrender and leaned back.

“I’m not trying to play. I just need that—” You tried to swipe it from his mouth, but he bounced backward and rushed toward the door.

At that exact moment, your roommate returned from choir practice, opening the door just in time for Choklit to run out with the paper in tow. You scrambled to your feet, edging past her into the mostly empty hallway.

“Sorry!” she yelled after you, to which you just waved.

“It’s fine! I got him,” you threw back at her just before you turned a corner in pursuit of the retriever.

You had to admit, the little guy was fast. Faster than you thought he would be (or maybe you just needed to exercise more…who knew). Bewildered students parted for you as you gave chase, giving them a quick thank you! as you kept your eyes on the golden blur ahead.

He toppled down another hallway, one you knew led to a dead end. You grinned and picked up the pace, intent on scooping him up, only to skid to a sudden stop after you turned the corner.

Because there Choklit was, sniffing around at familiar black boots while pale hands smoothed out the paper the puppy dropped before her. You were frozen, trying to figure out whether this was real or some terrible lucid dream.

Wednesday’s cold timbre inadvertently answered your question.

“I didn’t think they allowed dogs on campus,” the girl remarked, giving the puppy at her feet an inquisitive look. Your response came without thinking.

“You live with a werewolf, don’t you?” Your eyes widened. The comment was meant as a joke but could easily be interpreted as an insult. And knowing how close the two had gotten over the past few months, the last thing you wanted to do was accidentally mock Enid.

You watched Wednesday closely, but the only physical response you received was the slightest raise of her brows.

“That was almost funny.” Her words were delivered with her trademark deadpan stare, but you could hear the slightest hint of humor threaded into her neutral tone. Looking for attention, Choklit stood on his hind legs and pawed at Wednesday’s shin, giving her a clear view of the tag on his collar. The disapproval in her voice was clear as day. “You named it…Choklit?”

You gave a half-hearted shrug, pulling out a grin full of confidence you absolutely did not feel. “Can’t be a literary genius all the time.”

“I’m sure,” she retorted sarcastically, holding your unsure gaze for another moment before turning back to the paper in her hand. You followed her eyes and stepped forward with a grimace.

“Sorry, that’s… you weren’t supposed to see that.” You tried to take the paper, but Wednesday stepped back, moving the paper out of your reach.

“It’s addressed to me.”

“That it is,” you conceded with a sigh, “but it was never intended to actually be delivered to you.”

Wednesday hummed. “Well, it seems your dog disagrees.” With that, she turned her attention to the poem. You were tempted to try and take it again, but you liked having your hand attached to your body, so you resisted.

Impatiently, you waited as her eyes ran along the lines slowly, your anxiousness building with every passing moment of excruciating silence until finally, she met your gaze once more.

“A few things to note,” she began, tone much too studious for the occasion. “I applaud the fact that you made the decision not to write a sonnet. They’re easily the most overblown, abominable form of poetry and I would have had to burn this if it was.”

She gave you a small nod. “Now, I will say that I’m a bit disappointed. This certainly could have been written in perfect rhyme rather than end rhyme, but since you said this wasn’t your final draft, I’m willing to give you a pass for this oversight. Mostly. And while AABB isn’t the most complex rhyme scheme, it’s just tolerable enough here to not detract from the poem as a whole.”

You gaped. She was making the same type of comments that your teachers would when they graded your assignments. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she was reading off the notes from a book report and not talking about a literal love confession.

The ridiculousness of the situation pulled a wry laugh from your throat, but you were quickly silenced with a harsh glare. Once you quieted, she continued, “The biggest problem I see is that this poem is lacking in length, having only a measly 12 lines. A few more couplets would have made this feel more complete.”

“Now onto the poem itself. Though your vernacular pales in comparison to mine, I will admit that your vocabulary is surprisingly expansive considering what you named your pet.” She sent Choklit a pointed look. “Furthermore, I appreciate the use of alliteration in lines like ‘A mind molded by misery and mischief’ and ‘Down into the dark depths of a dreadfully early grave’ but feel it could’ve been utilized more throughout. The mixture of masculine and feminine rhyme is interesting, though choosing one could have aided with overall cohesion.”

You just stood and stared, silently taking in her thoughts and critiques because it was all you could do. She paused, folded the paper neatly in her hand, but still didn’t give it back to you.

“In conclusion, parts of this are noticeably undercooked, but the simple act of reading it doesn’t make me want to purge my insides. I acknowledge the effort you put forth to tailor this poem to me and my interests and will admit that being described as ‘the purest of darkness personified’ is almost flattering.”

A nervous chuckle escaped before you could quell it, but this time she allowed it, her stare remaining blank. You cleared your throat, injected some joviality into your tone. “Great, so uh…do I get an A+?”

“B-, actually,” she amended, running over the folded page with her eyes. “Maybe even a C+.”

At that point, you swore you could feel the humiliation seeping into the very essence of your being. But you were determined not to let it show, to preserve what tiny amount of dignity you had left.

“Okay, well, I’m just gonna take that back and then go vanish off the face of the Earth so we never have to see each other again.” You gave her a pained smile and reached for the paper, only for her to snatch it out of your reach with a glare.

She glanced down to Choklit, who was seemingly enjoying the drama as his eyes ping-ponged between you two, then to the paper again. Another long moment passed before she looked back at you.

“I never said no.”

You blinked a few times, confused. “What?”

“The proposition outlined at the end of the poem,” she clarified, “I never said no.”

“You…” you began to repeat but trailed off as the realization of what she was implying really began to sink in. “Wait, I—you…you can’t possibly mean…”

Growing visibly impatient, Wednesday cut off your verbal meltdown. “Meet me outside the school gates after light’s out this Saturday. I get to pick the activity.”

The unsettling smile she gave you felt like a bad omen, but you couldn’t care less, still fighting off the incredulity clouding your mind. You opened your mouth to respond but when no words came, you settled for a hurried nod.

“Good,” Wednesday peered out the window momentarily. “Now, I must be going. Eugene is expecting me. I will see you Saturday and if you’re late then you’ll be the next autopsy I perform.”

Carefully, she stepped around your puppy and walked off without another word, leaving you to ponder what the hell just happened.

“Oh my god,” you whispered to no one in particular. Again, louder this time, “Oh my god!” At the sound of your excitement, Choklit came scampering over and you bent down to meet him. He stood on his hind legs, bracing his front paws on your knee. “Did you hear that, boy? The poem actually worked!”

He gave you a yip in return, tiny tail a blur behind him. You rubbed your hand along his back, chuckling at the fervent licks your hands received in return.

Only after a student skirted past you both did you realize that you were still in the middle of a hall. You promptly scooped Choklit up with both hands and cradled him by your chest, looking down at him as you began your way back to your dorm.

“Come on, let’s go get some treats. I owe you big time, buddy.”

[not-wholly-unheroic]

A Comparative Analysis of Hook’s Ship and Cabin in Popular Media Portrayals

Part 4: Peter Pan (2003)

P.J. Hogan’s 2003 film is full of life and color, and Isaacs’ Hook is likewise a colorful character who, though grounded in reality, most definitely has a flair for the dramatic and a taste for the finer things in life.

Like the other Hooks we have seen thus far, Isaacs’ Jolly Roger appears to be the large stereotypical pirate ship that all children think of, despite the impracticality of a slower vessel in actual piracy. (By this point, I think we should just assume that all Hooks go for form over function when it comes to their choice of ship.) It’s a gorgeous ship, and I do wish we got more close-ups of the outside of this particular Roger so we could see more of what’s going on with all the decorative work on the outside of the cabin and the figurehead, etc. One thing, though, that stands out about this ship is that the mainsail itself has a giant skull and crossed swords on it. This would be completely impractical for any actual ship, as the enemy would see them coming and know they were pirates right off the bat…lending credence to the idea that this ship (and this Hook) may be deeply shaped by the children’s imagination. Then again…what else should we expect of a pirate ship whose name itself is the Jolly Roger?

The shots we get of the inside of Isaacs Hook’s cabin reveal the living space of a man who is accustomed to a decadent lifestyle but not so over-the-top as to be entirely unrealistic. While his beautifully decorated harpsichord is the centerpiece of the room, we also notice that he has several tables, a couch, and a globe.

This is about all we can tell from the in-film shots of the cabin, but some promotional material and a pirate-themed hotel that purchased a few set pieces from the film and set up their own room to mimic Hook’s can give us a few ideas about what the rest of the cabin might look like. (Big shout-out to @annabellioncourt for providing several of these bonus material images!)

In the one promotional photo, there is what looks like a lute, perhaps, in the background. I also love the little detail of the skull and crossbones on the candle stand…and his li’l stripey socks.

Here we can see the full-sized bed with a gun and what looks like it might be an Eton crest over it. (Note that if you pay close attention in Hook’s intro scene in the film, you will actually see that the tattoo on his left arm is an Eton crest as well.)

Isaacs Hook also has a self-portrait in his cabin, it seems…which interestingly has a date on the frame of 1742. This is about the most specific we get with ANY Hook as far as time period goes. This is after the Golden Age of Piracy had really already come to an end, though it’s technically possible he might still have been “Blackbeard’s bosun” depending on his age, as Blackbeard’s career ended in 1718 in a battle off Ocracoke Island, NC. Isaacs himself was around 40 years old when the filming was done, so if we want to assume Hook was around the same age when he came to Neverland and the portrait was done shortly before then, he would have been around 16 at the time of Blackbeard’s downfall. A bit young but…it’s possible if he started his career at sea early. Cabin boys usually started out around age 12 but could be as young as 8-ish on occasion. However…this wouldn’t really track with Hook being an Eton student. Assuming he actually graduated, he would have been at the school until he turned 18. So while Isaacs Hook may have very well been a sailor or even more specially a pirate prior to Neverland…he likely wasn’t a peer of Blackbeard or the other more well-known pirates of the early 1700s.

One last thing that is interesting to me is that in addition to the more standard weapons/tools like chains, guns, and boarding axes that we see in some shots, this version of Hook keeps what looks like an entire small cabinet of various tinctures and powders. At least the one of them which he removes is poison, but one wonders….are they all different kinds of poison? Or are some, perhaps, medicinal in nature or for recreational use?

As a whole, Isaacs’ Hook is, I think, perhaps one of the most realistic portrayals of the character. While there are some highly fanciful aspects to his ship—like the giant skull on the mainsail—much of his personal space has the lavish furnishings one might expect of someone with an aristocratic background without feeling too entirely impractical. Add to that a concrete date on the portrait, and I’d say this Hook is more grounded in reality than nearly any of the others we’ve encountered so far.