#Poe Tan

[somenteniki]

📜𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕, 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕, 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕

༊*·˚⿻𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚋𝚘𝚢

[tangereendream]

I think it is time for a new Pillars of Eternity run... Will I make literally any other class than rogue this time? stay tuned to find out!

[ivystoryweaver]

In Service of the General - Poe Dameron

Poe Dameron + thigh riding

Kinktober Masterlist || Poe Masterlist || Main Masterlist

“…you lock the door and straddle his thick, muscular thigh. Mussing those perfect, salt and pepper curls, you kiss him senseless.”

Notes: f!reader, smut, fluff, language || Word Count: 960 Look, I know Star Wars has holo-whatevers, just roll with the picture thing ok

Poe Dameron has quite literally always been the poster boy for the Resistance. Now, an older, wiser General Dameron is a face of the new New Republic. It's not a role he relishes, but he has the looks and the charisma. Everyone wants to know him or be him or be with him. And he finally agreed to have his picture made, officially.

He dragged you with him and you struggle not to laugh at how he fidgets restlessly as professionals fuss over every curl, after dressing him and making him even more handsome than usual, if it’s possible.

You about hit the floor when you see him - he looks so good. Licking your lips, you notice the tight fit of his tan trousers. He keeps uncomfortably adjusting himself, glancing over at you for reassurance and approval.

"Hold on a second," he instructs the stylist, waving them away.

"Yes, General," she dutifully responds.

With a nod of his head, he beckons you over. It does something to your insides to be summoned when he looks like this.

"I hate this," he whispers as you hurriedly approach. "They told me they only needed a few shots but this is way over the top."

Squeezing your hands into fists, you bounce on your toes, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him.

"You look good baby. So good." Leaning over, you whisper on his ear before the session continues. "I need a few moments alone with you after. In all this." Your eyes land on his crotch as your bite your lip coyly.

"Oh," he responds, surprised but imbued with an incentive to get this shoot done right and quickly.

As soon as he is clear for the day, you drag him to his dressing room, lock the door and straddle his thick, muscular thigh. Mussing those perfect, salt and pepper curls, you kiss him senseless, slipping your tongue into his mouth and pressing your breasts against his chest.

"Baby - ow," he hisses as you bite down a little too hard on his lip.

"Sorry," you breathlessly gasp, "you just look so good, I can't help it."

A mischievous twinkle flickers in his dark eyes and you know he is pleased that he can still get you worked up like this.

Strong hands grip your hips and drag you forward, across his thigh. His head cocks curiously as you moan out his name.

"You want me because these damn pants are too tight." A self-satisfied chuckle rumbles in the expanse of his chest. "Had to stuff myself in them, and if you keep making noises like that, I'll probably split them open."

Your mouth falls open with a pathetic whine. He's moving you back and forth, pushing you down on the meat of his thigh.

"You're gonna come like this, aren't you baby?" He murmurs hotly against your lips.

"Mmnnn yes," you gasp, grinding yourself down harder with each passing thrust.

"Gonna ruin these pants. I can feel you dripping."

Your mouth opens over his, hands grasping his crisp, tan shirt in both fists forcefully enough to pop the first two buttons. Your fingers fly all over his exposed skin as you ride his thigh faster, chasing your release.

The tickling drag of the fabric over your clit combined with the muscled thickness of his thigh rubbing up between your folds feels so good you can hardly hold yourself upright on his lap. Then he sucks on your tongue and squeezes your ass and the coil of pleasure humming inside you snaps. Euphoric pleasure surges through your body as Poe catches your wild moans in his mouth, nibbling on your lips while shushing you as you ride out your high.

You collapse against his chest, harshly panting while he chuckles on your ear. "They're gonna hear us, sweetheart."

"Stop laughing at me," you breathlessly pout, swatting his arm and struggling to climb off his lap. Your face goes hot at the obvious wet stain on his pants, but you laugh right back when you see he's leaking too, and so hard, it has to hurt.

"I'm gonna get wet every time I see your picture in this outfit, General."

"It might take an act of the Senate to get me out of these damn things," he teases, but his eyes darken at the name of his title on your lips.

You notice. Kneeling down in front of him, you reach for his zipper. "Need something...General?"

He hums, jaw clenching as he tries not to smile, instead tipping his head up in mock seriousness. "I need a Lieutenant who can follow orders."

"Pulling rank won’t get your cock in my mouth any faster," you tut playfully. “Not anymore, anyway.”

After a brief struggle with the extremely tight pants, you tug his thick, heavy length free and swirl your tongue all over the tip. "Besides, I'm retired. Don't take orders."

"You never did - fuck..."

General Dameron obeys whatever you say for the next few minutes. Both of you straighten up, and Poe gets dressed in the outfit he arrived in for the day, the two of you laughing your asses off at how you ruined his photoshoot look.

You decide to take the outfit home, folding it neatly over one arm.

"All set, General?" His press agent questions, eyes curiously darting down to the folded tan clothing.

"All set," he nods, one corner of his mouth curling. "My wife insists I keep the outfit. You understand."

The poor, flustered young man nods rapidly. "Of course, General Dameron. As you wish."

The two of you fly back home, stealing kisses and holding hands just like when you were young and at war. Peace isn't always easy. But your husband makes it look so damn good.

Kinktober Masterlist || Poe Masterlist || Main Masterlist

[herlondonboy]

5 Times You Flirted With Wednesday And 1 Time She Flirted Back

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x gn!reader / Enid Sinclair x platonic!reader

Summary: what the title says

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, y/n being down bad, I got lazy after the second one, also I wrote it when I was half asleep, google translated Spanish (sorry if it’s wrong). lmk if there are any more !!

Word Count: 1.1k

1.

The first time you’d flirted with Wednesday Addams was completely subconsciously, honestly. You walked into your friend’s dorm and froze at the sight of Enid watching with a frown as she took the colour off the window on her side.

“Holy shit.” You mumbled, completely blown away.

Enid turned to you, but you were too enthralled by the mystery in front of you to look away. You tilted your head and admired her jawline and braids. Her fringe were scary, it was so perfect, like she just hopped off the Hairspray set. When she was done, she kicked the translucent vellum paper mindlessly onto Enid’s half. When you looked down, you saw the duct tape line and jumped over to Enid’s side.

“Oh, Dios mío. Cómo puede una persona ser tan perfecta?” You asked aloud and Wednesday turned to you as you blushed.

Her eyebrow was raised slightly as she looked on through her eyelashes. “di algo así otra vez, y perderás la lengua.” Her words were so smooth and calm, you almost forgot that she was threatening you.

You held back a smile at her glare and bounced over to Enid’s bed. The floorboards screeched in pain that went ignored by the people in the room as you sat on the brightly coloured bed. Enid rolled her eyes at the look on your face and sat next to you. She dared you to say what was on your mind.

You shook your head and she nodded, pleased. You began spending more time in Enid’s dorm and less in Yoko’s. And Wednesday was already sick of you by the second week at Nevermore, but you didn’t let that get you down.

2.

The second time you shamelessly flirted with Wednesday was during the Poe Cup. Or after, really. Wednesday had been coerced onto the team by Enid after Bianca poisoned Yoko with Garlic. Your team had won and Wednesday, you, Enid and the fourth person - one of Enid’s other friends - stood on the stairs as Headmistress Weems handed Enid the trophy. The celebration of the Black Cats beating the Sirens (really just anyone beating the sirens for the first time in years) had everyone but Bianca cheering.

Wednesday went back to her dorm and you followed her. When you got there, you leaned on the doorframe. “You should wear the suit more often, Cat-Woman.” You said as Wednesday sat down at her desk.

“Cat-Woman is chaotic good; I’m neutral evil.” Wednesday muttered mindlessly, clicking away on her typewriter.

You shrugged and made your way to her desk. You jumped onto an empty space and began swinging your legs near Wednesday as it took everything within her not to rip you apart. Limb. By. Limb.

You went to pick up a sheet of paper from the desk, but that idea was quickly shot down when Wednesday slapped your hand away. “Touch them again and you’ll lose your hands.”

“Wednesday, all this threatening is making me feel some way.” You shifted on the desk before jumping off and gaining Wednesday attention.

“Where are you going?” She asked.

“My dorm… Unless you want me to stay.” You smirked.

“Don’t flatter yourself, y/n.” Wednesday said emotionlessly, as always. “Enid will want to celebrate with you, so you should probably stay, though.” She then muttered, turning away from you so that you couldn’t see her face.

You shrugged and nodded, walking over to Enid’s bed and just watching Wednesday in a comfortable silence until your friend came.

3.

The next time you were all eating lunch. Wednesday had decided to eat with you for the first time since she’d been at Nevermore. It had only taken her two and a half months. Much to both of your luck, the only free seat by the time she had gotten there was next to you and opposite Enid.

Wednesday didn’t make a sound as she sat down next to you. You opened your mouth, but Wednesday held her hand up, stopped you. “Don’t say a word.”

“Not even if it’s to say how ravishing you look in that jumper?” You asked with a small smirk.

Enid cleared her throat, making you and look away from each other and to the blonde. “What have i told you about flirting with my friends?” Enid scolded you as you dropped your head.

“You told me not to.” You mumbled. “But can you blame me? Look at her.” Wednesday whacked your hand away when you motioned to her.

“Honestly, y/n, go touch some grass.” Yoko called out from the other side of the table, rolling her eyes.

“Te sugiero que cuides tu boca.” Wednesday said.

You smirked. “Eres inexplicablemente caliente cuando estás enojado.”

“Don’t make me regret eating with you.”

4.

The fourth time was also an accident, much like the first time. You were lying on Wednesday’s bed (it was shocking that she hadn’t tried to stab you the moment you crossed over the line, I know), scrolling through your camera roll when a picture you’d taken without her knowledge.

You smiled at it. Nothing could ruin this feeling of serenity. Nothing but Wednesday lying next to you. Actually, no. She didn’t ruin it. She made it better. “You’re so pretty, Wednesday.” The words came out of your mouth before you could stop them and your cheeks warmed up quickly. “I’m sorry.” You said quickly, looking away from her.

“Thank you.” Wednesday murmured, pushing her back against the bed frame. You widened your eyes. “Don’t make me take it back.”

5.

The last time you’d flirted with Wednesday was after she’d defeated Joseph Crackstone. After being all bloody and bruised, you pushed your way through the crowd to look for her. “Enid, where’s Wednesday?” You asked the blonde hurriedly, eyes darting around.

“y/n? What happened?” Enid asked, looking at you, searching for any extensive wounds.

“Most of it’s Tyler.” You whimpered, hugging yourself.

The chittering of the Outcasts suddenly died down and everyone turned to the gate where Wednesday walked out. You sighed in relief before running towards her. In that moment it was just the two of you. She winced as your body collided with hers in a hug and furrowed eyebrows before pushing you away.

“Fancy seeing you here, gorgeous, huh?” You mumbled.

The one time Wednesday flirted back, you got a mere: “You look good covered in blood.” She had joked. The look on her face was still deadpan as she once-overed your body for any lethal wounds. “Are you okay?” You nodded. Wednesday’s lips quivered as she pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

You sobbed into her shoulder. The thought of nearly losing her to Tyler still fresh in your mind as your own shoulders shook. Wednesday held you tight. Seeing you wolf out to save her and almost get killed by Tyler was the last thing on her mind. Sure, she couldn’t stand physical contact, but having you in her arms was what she had longed for since she first heard the words you muttered on her second day at Nevermore.

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Physical Fitness

[at the beach] Sonia Greene: oh howard this was such a lovely idea! Greene: a romantic seaside picnic and just the two of us! Greene: and we've got your favorite food right here - untoasted white bread! Greene: isn't this nice? HP Lovecraft: [sweats, stares at ocean] right sure

HP Lovecraft: Hey! Quit kicking sand in our faces! Sonia Greene: that man is the worst nuisance on the beach! Aleister Crowley: [grabbing Lovecraft] listen here, I'd smash your face, only you're so skinny you might dry up and blow away!

Crowley: [to greene, as he manhandles lovecraft] look babe, why don't you drop that zero and get with the hero Crowley: i'll show you how a real man kicks sand in people's faces! Crowley: THE GREAT BEAST!!! DO AS THOU WILLT!!!!

Lovecraft: The big bully! I'll get even some day! Greene: oh don't let it bother you, little boy Greene: i'll fix you up a nice big meal, put some meat on those bones Lovecraft: and that'll help me build muscle? Greene: [sweats] um muscle? um sure yeah muscle

Poe: howard, you need to stop letting aleister pick on you Lovecraft: but he's twice my size! he's all buff cuz of all the mountain climbing! Poe: you could start working out? Lovecraft: you mean physical labor? Lovecraft: sport?! Lovecraft: [sweats] like a common cornishman?!?

Poe: you should try it Poe: a good regimen of rowing and swimming helped me build mass Barker: oh come on edgar Poe: no really! Poe: [removes shirt, revealing he is super swole] Barker: Barker: oh right Barker: right i forgot about that

Mary Shelley: listen up nerd you don't need exercise Shelley: what you need is one of these [flips switchblade] Poe: oh come on mary, what if he gets attacked when he doesn't have knife on him? Shelley: dunno, that's never come up

Shelley: next time aleister gives you shit, you give him one of these [pantomimes shivving] Poe: mary, violence never solved anything Shelley: it does if you're good at it Poe: Barker: ah ha ha she's got you there edgar

Lovecraft: Darn it! I'm sick and tired of being a scarecrow! William Hope Hodgson says he can give me a real body. all right! i'll gamble a stamp and get his free book Lovecraft: i'll just not eat this week to afford the stamp

William Hope Hodgson: are you "fed up" with seeing the huskies walk off with the best of everything? Hodgson: sick and tired of being soft, frail, skinny or flabby? Hodgson: i know because i myself was once a puny 97 pound "runt" Hodgson: today, I am two separate gorillas

Hodgson: give me 5 weeks and my body building plan will turn YOU into the bronzed adonis you were meant to be Hodgson: through a dynamic combination of cardiovascular training, lifting big kegs, and standing in the desert while getting your balls tanned by an ultraviolet machine

Lovecraft: wow, how's you get so buff?? Hodgson: from constant brawling during my navy days Lovecraft: w-wait Lovecraft: you're a sailor?? Hodgson: yeah you should know from my popular lecture series about how much the navy fuckin sucks ass Lovecraft: [sweats]

Hodgson: ugh, i tell you Hodgson: it's just impossible to pay the bills with pseudoscience fitness programs catering to mens' insecurities Hodgson: i'm gonna pivot to weird fiction instead Hodgson: that's where the big money is

Hodgson: what if a bunch of pig men attacked a big house Smith: [on phone] hey clark ashton? it's me! your cousin! marvin smith! Smith: you know that new horror genre you're been looking for? Smith: well, listen to this! [aims phone at hodgson]

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

pairing: poe dameron x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 1077

summary:

General Organa needed more skilled fighter pilots, and there was no one more skilled than Poe Dameron, former spice runner and current New Republic commander. With the General’s messages going unanswered, you’ve been sent in to engage Dameron. All you had to do was convince him to return with you to the Resistance base.

author’s note: posting this as a sign of life, as it’s the only thing i’ve managed to finish over the last month 💀 i’m still working on my many joel, din, and frankie ideas. i’m just slow - hope you can forgive me.

tags/warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), able bodied reader, no physical descriptions for reader, no use of y/n, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, praise, pet names, uh kidnapping?

It was supposed to be a simple mission.

General Organa needed more skilled fighter pilots, and there was no one more skilled than Poe Dameron, former spice runner and current New Republic commander. With the General’s messages going unanswered, you’ve been sent in to engage Dameron. All you had to do was convince him to return with you to the Resistance base.

Where it got complicated was somewhere around drink two, when Poe slid his arm around your waist and your heart skipped a beat as you met his dark gaze. His full lips tilted up in a smile that said he knew exactly what you were thinking and you were long gone, mission temporarily forgotten as he leaned in close and pressed a trail of kisses across your neck.

Now you’re on your back in a cramped bunk, fingers tangled in Poe’s curly hair as he devours you like a starving man, tongue lavishing your clit with agonizing determination. A thick finger presses to your entrance, sliding in with little resistance as your back arches from the bed.

“Maker, you’re a mess,” Poe murmurs on a breath, head raised to watch you as he works a second finger into you, pressing deep and curling them against your front wall as he withdraws. His tan skin is shiny with your arousal and his hair is a mess and you want to say something back about how he’s not looking too put together right now himself but you can’t, not with the way his skilled hands are driving you to the brink.

A few swipes of his thumb across your clit is all it takes to make you shatter, the walls of your cunt squeeze his fingers as you come and come and come. Poe’s hand withdraws slowly and he presses your thighs apart, watching as you pulse around nothing and you whine at the loss.

“Shhh, sweetheart,” he says, sitting up and working the belt of his flight pants loose. “Not finished yet.”

Poe shoves his pants down his thighs, only enough to expose his cock. He leans forward, elbows pressed into the mattress beside your head as he slides his length against your slick heat, brushing over your sensitive clit with each movement. His mouth finds yours and he kisses you deeply, his spicy scent and the earthy taste of your own release invading your senses as he does. The head of his cock catches against your entrance and he presses forward the slightest bit before pulling back again.

“Quit teasing,” you command, but your voice vibrates with need. He does it again, a little deeper this time, and again, a little deeper still.

“You can just say you want my cock,” he says, self-assured tone punctuated with a smirk. “Come on, say it.”

You stare up at him defiantly as he inches his hips forward, slowly, slowly, slowly. Your clenched jaw loosens, mouth dropping open on a gasp as he drags across a sensitive spot inside of you, and he stops, holding himself still inside of you. Despite all his arrogance, you can still see the way he’s fraying at the edges. It’s in the sheen of sweat on his brow, the way the muscles in his neck have gone taut, the crack of joints as his hands clench into tight fists on the bed.

“Fuck me, Poe,” you finally say.

And fuck you he does.

He sits up on his knees, your ass perched on his thighs and his hands holding tight to your hips as he slams deep, punching the air from your lungs. His pace is brutal, powerful, singular determination etched into his features as he uses your body for his own pleasure now.

Hi hands leave your hips to lean over you once more, one hand on the mattress by your head and the other pressing one of your legs up and to the side, opening you wide. His hips slow from a piston to a smooth wave, each deep slide of him making you moan his name.

“That’s it,” he groans, “Who’s making you feel this good, sweetheart, huh?”

“You, Poe,” you reply.

“That’s right.” He drops to his elbows again, pressed close against your body, thrusts morphing into a grind that keeps you full. He sinks his teeth into the side of your neck, soothes the ache with a kiss, and whispers how good you feel into your ear until you’re shaking, quietly begging for him to make you come again.

His hand slides between your bodies, fingers rubbing sloppy circles through the slick gathered on your skin. Another nip of his teeth sends you over the edge and he moans, deep and guttural against your neck as he fills you with a new warmth, cock pulsing as the waves of your own orgasm drag one from him.

You’re both panting, gasping for breath as you come down from your twin highs. Poe pulls out and turns over to land on the sliver of bed available between your body and the wall. He kicks his pants off into a pile at the foot of the bed and wraps an arm around your middle, pulling your body against his.

“Stay,” he mumbles against your neck, a kiss pressed behind your ear. You don’t respond, you don’t have to. He’s asleep within seconds, gentle snores filling the small bunk space.

When you’re certain he’s out cold, you slide out from beneath his arm and dress yourself. You try not to think too hard about how you’d like to crawl back into bed with him, not while you’re digging your comm unit from your pants.

Ready for extraction.

When Poe wakes up, the first thing he notices is that you’re not there.

The second thing he notices is that he’s not even in his own bunk.

He sits up, panic coursing through his veins. Where is he? Where are you? Are you alright? Is he—

“Commander Dameron,” your familiar voice says through a speaker. Poe looks up, finds you watching him from the other side of a transparisteel window. “You’re safe. You’re currently on a Resistance base in an undisclosed location.”

“How did—“

“You’re a very heavy sleeper, Commander. You should probably have a medic droid look into that for you,” you say, cutting off his question. “You’ve been brought here to speak with General Organa.”

Poe smirks. “Do they know how exactly you got me here, sweetheart?”

“It’s Captain, actually.”

All masterlists

[patty221]

Te quiero tan bonito que guardo una distancia considerable.

Una en donde no te pueda quemar, pero tampoco puedas olvidarme., ❣️

Elena Poe.

I love you so beautifully that I keep a considerable distance.

One where I can't burn you, but you can't forget me either., ❣️

[gamesetart]

has anyone seen that old movie the crush? im thinking of something similar rn with patrick... (without all the going crazy and manipulation and the underage stuff)

your parents have a big house. a gorgeous country home, complete with a stable, for you horses, a back garden with a pool and a tennis court, and, of course, a guest house. a spacious little one-bedroom located literally within spitting distance from the main home.

and you - home for the summer, sophomore in college, headstrong, pretty, interesting, a sports medicine major - you were supposed to move in there. it's embarassing to be your age (a precocious twenty) and still living in your childhood bedroom, for godssake! but, at the last minute, your father tells you you can't. which is absurd: you've never been told 'no' in your life, why on earth should he start now?

well, after two weeks of complaining, whining, begging, bargaining, and straight-up threats, your answer arrives. arrives in the form of a single black suitcase and one heavy sports bag. arrives in the form of a tired, scraggly looking man parking his fucked-up car in your gorgeous gravel driveway, right next to your perfect, pristine white vintage mustang. it's insulting.

your guest house is occupied. by son of family friends, sort-of professional tennis player, patrick zweig. you hate him instantly. hate that because of him, you're confined to your stupid childhood bedroom, with your stupid baby-pink walls your mom won't let you change, your canopy bed with the gauzey curtains. you hate that your parents invite him in all the time. you hate that he drinks your coffee and eats your food. you hate that he found your contraband stash of cigarettes and weed, and you hate that you know he stole some, because you counted, and that you can't confront him about it in case he tells your parents.

and you hate how he's hot. hate that he plays tennis on your court, damp curls sticking to his face, sweat running down his tanned, toned arms, stupid shorts clinging to his thick, hairy thighs... you hate that he swims in your pool in nothing but his underwear. you hate that he has these bright blue eyes, almost green in certain lights, the pupils ringed with a hazelish, almost golden halo. and you despise how those eyes look at you, like he's going to fucking eat you.

not like he doesn't hate you, too. he hates how you parade around like you own the world. he hates how you are: too smart for your own good, too aware of it for everyone else's. he hates how you've obviously never been told no until the guest house. he hates that you're a know-it-all brat.

and he hates you (and himself, a little, but mostly you) for being so damn attractive. he hates that he'll come home, from a run, or a bad date, or something, and find you in a clean white tennis set - ralph lauren, or lacoste, or some other bougie brand mean less for atheltics and more for style - lazily serving to no one. he hates that you'll read by the pool, austen and shakespeare and poe, in your little bikinis, sucking on a lollipop, or, if your parents aren't home, smoking a cigarette. he hates when you get dressed up because your parents are throwing yet another party, hates you in your babydoll dresses and your sweet skirts and your sweetheart necklines.

like you don't know what you're doing to him.

the funny thing is, both of you are smart enough to see that the other is physically attracted to you, but you're both too proud to admit it goes both ways. so you strut around in tiny tennis skirts and bikinis. he swims in his underwear and comes in in nothing but a towel to steal from your fridge. waiting for the other to break, to snap, to trip up and fall. if patrick breaks first, you get to laugh and call him a dirty old perv for going after you - he's like, a decade older than you, for christssake! - and if you break first, patrick gets to bully you open on his cock, make you cry, finally bring you down a peg.

just a matter of time.

[georgiapeach30513]

Much Too Fast, Part 2

Summary: Curtis explains everything, but that doesn't mean it changes anything

Pairings: Curtis Everett X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings:  explicit language, mentions of divorce, mentions of abortion, mentions of sex, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“Thatta girl,” Curtis repeats.  His voice sounds as smooth as he did last night as he kissed over your shoulders.  You tap your fingers on your arm aggressively, just to show him how irritated you are, but he grins.  An irritatingly sexy grin.  He is married.  And you’re not falling for his mysterious charm.  Nope.  Already made that mistake once.

“I am waiting,” you spit out, and Curtis looks over to his daughter, and the baby gives him a snaggle toothed grin.  Her chubby cheeks push against her eyes as she gazes up at her daddy.  This shouldn’t be cute, but it is.  It’s adorable.  Even Curtis’ lines on his forehead as he gives her a sweet smile back.  He loved being a father.

Looking away didn’t fare well either.  Pictures of him and the baby were everywhere.  She wasn’t even a year old, but Tati and Curtis made sure that at least the living room was decorated in pictures of him and Poet.  Most didn’t have Tati in them, and that strikes you as odd.  He loves that baby girl, but Tati wasn’t present.  Looking around there was not a single picture of her.  It was all Curtis and his daughter.

“Didn’t take you long,” he mumbles, playing with a faint tan line of his missing wedding band.  “Tati and I are complicated.”

“Well, since I’ve had you inside of me I think I deserve some explanation,” you didn’t care that things were complicated.  Legally he was in fact married.  

Curtis knows you’re right.  But saying it out loud confirms what he knew when he found out about the pregnancy.  There was only one person he was candid with this about, and it wasn’t Tati.  

“So…she’s your sugar mama?” Curtis cocks up his eyebrow as he looks at you, and you hear a whispered cadence of mama from Poet.  “I mean she’s the one that’s running a business.  And she hired me, you’re a mechanic,” flicking your eyes up, you look around the immaculate living room.  “There’s a pool house.  So…you…you were her breeding tool?” 

“My daughter’s in the room,” Curtis chuckles at your low blow.  You are making excuses to not like him.  

“I’m sorry, Poe,” the baby crawls over to the end of the fence, standing up to gnaw on the edge.  “I’m just trying to understand.”

“I get it.  You think I’m a poor mechanic, and that my ‘wife’ paid for this house because I agreed to knock her up.”

“Why are you doing that?” You put up your own air quote, scowling at him, “Your ‘wife’.  What does that even mean?  You were inside me!” 

“Yes, we’ve established that I was giving it to you good.  She’s my wife by marriage only.”

“I hate you.  I’m leaving.  I’m sorry,” of course she was his wife by marriage.  What the fuck did that even mean?  They were married, therefore she was the wife.  He was over complicating something, and it pissed you off.

“Sit down,” his voice changes.  Softening, pleading you to hear him out, but he was going nowhere.  “Please.  I know this doesn’t make sense.  Tati was my best friend.  My best…friend with benefits.”

“Oh god.  You’re….all you care about is sex.”

“I have been friends with her since grade school.  Rich girl and the boy from the wrong side of the tracks.  But we just got each other.  She…there’s things I can’t talk about because I’m not even sure.  But we got careless, and she got pregnant.  Her parents are stupid religious, and she was…sh-sh-she wanted to abort our baby, and not tell her parents.  I always wanted to be a dad.  And I would have supported her, but…Poet is my life.”

“Dada,” the baby whispers.  Crawling over to a stuffed teddy bear before lifting it up for Curtis.  She adored him as much as he did her.  He takes the bear, holding it in his lap before his daughter smiles, and crawls off again.

“Her parents would have never accepted a baby out of wedlock, so…marriage.  We were best friends to fuck buddies, and now parents, so it seemed like the logical step.  Things immediately changed.  I could see her regretting every decision that led up to that point.  And then Poet was born, and I fell immediately.  She was everything to me, and Tati loved her enough.”

You gulp.  Shaking your head because it just seemed so bizarre.  This man who you know would strike fear into someone in a twinkle of the eye was so soft for this tiny little angel that kept looking at him as if to check and see if he was okay.  She could sense his distress.  They were kindred spirits.  

“The older Poet got the more I realized Tati loved her just enough.  But she wasn’t her life like she was mine.  Tati has never hurt her, and she's never done without, but being a mother I don’t think is for her.  I don’t regret asking her to keep Poet.  I couldn’t imagine my life without her, but I hate that Tati has to pretend in front of people.  Puts on a smile and her bubbliest of bubbly voices.  Lying to herself and the world that she wants a baby.  And that’s why a nanny was brought up.”

“A babysitter.”

“Sweetheart, she wants you to live in the pool house.  She wants you to be the mother figure that she just doesn’t believe she can be, or take the time to be.  She’s always busy, and always off.”

“But you’re married,” you felt sympathy about his odd predicament, but the fact of the matter was he was still married, and he had committed adultery.

“Only legally.  Tati and I have been separated since Poe was four months old.  I moved out of her bedroom, and into the one beside the nursery.  I have an apartment, too.  I just don’t like being away from this sweet face,” as if on cue, Poet looks up at her daddy giving him a big grin.  “We can’t get divorced just yet.”

“Can’t?  Or won’t?  Curtis, you were…”

“Yes, yes…I was inside of you.  You weren’t supposed to be the nanny.  You weren’t supposed to meet my daughter.  I didn’t even know if I would ever see you again, and if I did I thought I was going to have the chance to explain myself and Tati.”

“When was the last time you had sex with her?” Curtis rolls his eyes.  His attention was back on the baby.  “That short of a time ago, huh?  Great.  You’re the man that promises to leave his wife.  But really you’re sneaking down the hallway to her bedroom.”

“No, I’m not.  Most of the time Poet sleeps with me.  I haven’t slept with Tati since before she was born.  Things got too real after we got married.  And then she was born, and I loved someone more than Tati.  She’s not used to that.  She’s used to being the center of attention, and I have never made her my priority.”

“So…you don’t love her?” 

“I’ve never loved Tati like that, no.  I guess it was a means to an end.  She’s got her secrets, and she’s not ready to tell her parents.  She just continues living her life.  She loves Poet.  Just — I don’t think she loves her the way she should.  She doesn’t want to be a mother.”

“I’m not doing this,” you declare.  He is sex on legs.  You could still feel the stretch he gave you.  But this couldn’t happen.  Wouldn’t happen.  You had standards, and they were not sleeping with a married man.

“I am asking you to be my daughter’s nanny.”

“Da-da,” Poet draws out.  Making grabby hands towards him.  She was done with playing, and just wanted him.  “Da-da,” when he turns to look at her, she gets the biggest smile.  Extending a look over to you, cheesing when her daddy picks her up to sit in his lap.

Poet partially covers her face, still with the sweetest smile, “Pee pie!” 

“She’s playing peekaboo with you,” god, why was he sexier with a baby in his lap?  Why was this man that was carved by the gods, and every inch of him was all man, and pure sin.  But this dainty little baby playing peekaboo with you while her daddy squeezes her squishy feet was doing much more than making you want to say aww.

“Please, be my saving grace again.  My daughter needs someone to give her the soft love a mom can.”

“And us?” 

“You’re an employee.  But…there is a door from my room that walks right to the pool, and the pool house,” you shake your head no.  This wasn’t going to work.  “Grace?  What?  Saving Grace, it fits.  Why are you being like this?” 

“You’re married.”

“Legally.  And you’re the one that brought us up.  I’m just saying that it doesn’t take long to get to the pool house from my room.  And Poe only gets in the bed with me around two in the morning.”

He was serious.  Legally.  What the fuck did that even mean?  You heard his words, but you had standards.  You had to stay away from him.  “Dada,” Poet looks up at him, and points over to you.  “Dada,” making sure that her daddy knew that she was aware of you.

“You can go see her,” sick bastard using a baby to soften your heart, and make you stay.  It was working.  He smirks as Poet’s chubby little legs scoot her towards you, and crawls into your lap with a smile, and clap before calling out his name again.  “You can’t say no to her.”

“But I can say no to you.  What happened last night was a mistake.  If I stay here this is professional.  And you’re just my employer.  This is your space when I’m off work.  And my space is the pool house.  During the day you’re at work, and then I am here.  Have I made myself clear?” 

“Crystal clear,” his voice almost moans as his eyes look you up and down.  You became even more attractive holding his daughter.  He is shameless checking you out.  You could almost hear the filthy things he was whispering in your ear.  Pressing your shoulders down, and face into the mattress as he was fucking you so hard from behind.  “And once the divorce is final.”

“You’re still my employer,” you are being bold today.  You are pissed.  Felt jilted and lied to by Curtis.  He could have been honest with you from the beginning.  But then you wouldn’t have had the best sex of your life.  You wouldn’t have handprint bruises on your legs, and a tender ass.  Wouldn’t have your core on fire with every step you make.  Your body still could feel him, and was still craving him.  It was mean.  But you couldn’t go there.  Not anymore.

“I need to get some groceries for the house.  Poe, do you want to stay with daddy?” 

“Yeah.  Dada, yeah,” the fact she was a baby, and knew very little words could be dangerous.  But no matter what, you weren’t going to fuck Curtis Everett.  

“Poet and I could go with you.”

“No.  You stay here.”

“I’ll…make us some lunch.”

“I’ll grab some when I’m out.”

“Then I’ll make us some dinner.”

“You can make you and Poet some dinner.  I will be eating in the pool house alone.  What time do you go to work, Curtis?  I’ll make sure I’m over here before you need to leave to take care of the baby,” Curtis’ face falls flat, but he answers you.  “If you want to help, you can take my luggage to the pool house.”

That’s not what he wanted to take to the pool house.  He wanted to take you from behind.  This was cruel.  You are being mean.  This was going to be a hard arrangement.  But it was something he was just going to have to live with. Have to stare at you taking care of his daughter when all he can think about is the honey between your legs.

“Poe?” 

“Dada!” 

“Daddy needs a hobby.  You want to start painting?” 

“Aye!” She claps her hands, and Curtis leans down kissing her adorable face.  “Dada!” 

“I know.  Daddy has got himself into trouble.  I think with the wrong head.”

“Yep.  Ugh,” she grunts, crawling out of his lap.

“You’re not supposed to agree with me, or even know what that means.”

“Yep.  Dada.”

“I can wear her down.”

“Nono.”

His face drains of color as he stares at his miniature daughter.  She claps her hands again starting to giggle.  “Voice of reason, huh?” Curtis should listen to his daughter.  Poet was trying to keep him out of trouble.  But…she wasn’t even a year old yet.

“Yup.”

“Here, let me help you with that,” a hand grabs the items that you were putting into the back of your car, starting to help you load it.  You look up at him, and quickly back into the trunk.  No.

Your pussy has already gotten you in trouble once.  You would not look at another man lustfully.  It didn’t matter if he had striking blue eyes, it was your favorite color.  Or the fact that he had tattoos on his hands, you always loved a bad boy.  And rings.  Those rings would look beautiful covered in your essence.  But no.  You wouldn’t fall.  You just got here, and you wouldn’t look at him or entertain him.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around.  I see everyone,” he sighs, closing your trunk, and noticing the license plate immediately.  “Visiting or staying?” 

“Currently staying.  Thank you for your help.  I should really go.  I’ve got some unpacking to do,” his fingers tap along the back of your trunk, and you give him a shrug.  What was he wanting to ask or get to?  Because you preferred someone to the point.  Like Curtis.  Except the marriage thing.

“Your tires are looking a bit worn.”

“Oh…oh yeah.  I just got here this morning.  Listen, it’s been a long day,” you gulp feeling Curtis’ breath on your body.  Couldn’t believe the prickles moving along your skin remembering his touch.  “A long night, and weird morning, and I’ve got to pack up…”

“Don’t ride on those tires too long.  If it rains, it may be a bit slick,” clicking his mouth, he gives you a wink, turning to walk away.  “The name is Jax by the way,” that name sounds vaguely familiar.  

“Listen, you’re new in town, and I don’t want to sound too forward, but you don’t want to start off with just sitting at home.  We could hang out.”

“Like a date?  And you don’t even know my name.”

“Darling,” stop it.  No!  “I said hang out.  Doesn’t have to be so formal.  Just…think about it.”

“How will I get in touch with you?” 

“Hand me your phone.  I’ll put my name in it,” you are too trusting and you know it, but you hand him your phone anyways.  He doesn’t take long to put in his number, making sure to call himself from your phone.  “There, you have a good one, darling.  Hopefully I’ll hear from you soon.”

“Yeah,” you squeak out.  That didn’t sound convincing.  You watch him walk through the parking lot enough before getting into your car.  “Breathe.  You can’t do this.  You can not go into old patterns.  Looking down at your pants, you give you’re pussy a pep talk; we’re not sleeping with this man.  You can go out with him, but you are going to keep your legs closed.”

“Yeah, you’re in some deep shit,” Jax smiles over at Curtis, who continues to work on the car.  “You’ve got this fine as hell girl that you fucked hard one night.  And now you’ve got her living with Tati.  And your breeding kink gets to watch this fine piece of ass hold your daughter.  Had Tati even shown even a slightest bit of mothering towards Poet, you wouldn’t be getting a divorce.”

“Yeah, I would,” Jax raises an eyebrow, but Curtis shakes his head.  “Forget about it.”

“So what are you going to do with your problem?” 

“It’s not a problem,” he grunts, wiping his hands off on a rag.  “She’s scared.  Rightfully so.  I show up as Tati’s husband with a kid I failed to mention.”

“You were just fucking.  Why would you bring up a kid or your wife that you haven’t had sex with in over a year?  Literally papers are drawn up, you’re just waiting on her to admit to her parents that the marriage was a mistake, and she only got married because she got pregnant out of wedlock, and you wanted the baby, and she can’t stand to disappoint you.  Now she feels smothered and trapped for being a mother, and being married to you.  To the point you two are no longer friends.  You’re roommates that shares a crotch goblin.”

Curtis throws a tool at Jax, and his friend grabs his arm where it hit, “This isn’t therapy, and Poet isn’t a crotch goblin.  Even you say she’s the most beautiful baby you’ve ever seen.”

“You’re too damn soft.  Poe Poe is adorable.  Your relationship with her is precious, and while I get what you’re doing with Tati and giving her time to deal with things, remember she’s out there living her life.  Traveling while you’re stuck here playing house with the babysitter who made it very clear that you’re not going to get to taste her anymore.  All the while you get to watch with a hard cock as she sings to your daughter.”

“I hate you so much,” it was not fun watching you interact with Poet.  And even worse was Poet smiling at you.  Giggling with you, and ignoring him.  

“And I love you, my sweet little ‘Daddy’,” Jax moans, faking an orgasm with a high pitch voice.  “You just need that sweet girl to wake you up by bobbing on your dick again.”

“She was a freak, and the…Jax I can’t handle this.  I just want to fuck my hand every time I see her.  And Poe loves her.”

“Yeah, she probably smelled you on her, and that girl on you.  I’m surprised Tati didn’t take note of the smile on your face.  I knew that morning when I picked you up that you got to fuck something extra sweet and hard.  You, my friend, are predictable.  Pussy is pussy.”

“No.  Not when you have a kid.  Pussy means a potential mother to my baby.  What about you, you act like you get laid every night,” Tati did notice.  Even congratulated him for finally getting it in with someone.

“I don’t,” Jax walks out of the garage, grabbing a pack of cigarettes, “I did meet a fine piece of ass, and did my helping her put in her groceries bit.  She fell for it, and I have a date.  Maybe I’ll get to break a bed.”

“I don’t want to hear about it.  I don’t want to hear if you got laid, or a kiss or anything else.”

Jax stares at his phone looking at the address that you gave him, shaking his head.  “Mother fucker,” he grunts.  This night was not going to end the way he hoped.  The address was all he needed to know who you were.  Curtis’ saving Grace.  The same woman his best friend was hung up on.

He wasn’t going to deny you a night out, but he wouldn’t be getting a kiss.  Wouldn’t dare think about having sex with you.  Curtis meant more to him than some broad, but…he was going to torture Curtis for as long as it took.

His friend had been delaying this divorce for too long.  Had been keeping up a friendly face, and hiding something about Tati, Jax just knew it.  He didn’t know what it was, probably Tati was already in a steady relationship.  Curtis was too old to be this dumb.  

He can’t wait to see Curtis’ face though.  Jax had already talked up that he could be getting lucky, and now it was you he was picking up.  He didn’t know if he needed to head to the main entrance or the pool house.  He’d spent his fair share in that house. 

The hopes of seeing Curtis were much too high though, and he just has to go to the front door.  Has to see the look of his face.  Make him wonder and question things.  Stew as he takes care of his daughter.  Tati’s trip of course had gone longer than two days, and he wonders just how the two of you are navigating the relationship, or lack thereof.  

He cracks his knuckles before giving the door a hard knock.  Waiting on the glare from Curtis, but instead it’s you with such a pretty smile.  Poet on your hip.  He isn’t the most interested in this domestic shit, but he gets it.  You are radiant.  Smiling so big, and then talk to Poet, “We have got to find daddy, because I got to go out for a bit.”

“Nono,” the baby pouts, slapping at your chest softly.  Her bottom lip puckers out before she lays her head on your chest,  “Nono me.”

“I know.  Curtis!  Date’s here.”

“I’ll be right — there,” that’s what Jax was looking for.  Curtis’ face draining, and his mouth setting in a straight line as he glares at Jax.  “Really?  This is your date?” 

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning.  Poe bear, good night sweet baby.”

“Nono.  Dada,” yep.  Curtis was predictable.  Three days.  Three days of you keeping things professional, and tending to his daughter, and Curtis was a goner.  Any woman that showed Poet the love of a mother would have Curtis eating out of the palm of their hand.  But knowing that you could take him so well added to his admiration.  

“Dada, Nono.”

“Grace is going out for a bit, baby,” Poet sniffles a bit, and Jax wants to roll his eyes.  He could practically see Curtis’ cock twitching in his pants as the baby holds on tighter to you.  “Grace will be back.  She’s got her a special friend.”

“Dada!” It was cruel.  You want to change your mind, and just hold the little baby close to you.  She was a doll.  The happiest baby you had ever met, and was smart.  She had very few words, but you could tell she understood.  And right now she was clinging to you.  

“Dada, Nono.” 

“Curtis,” you pout looking at him.  She didn’t understand.  She had increasingly become more needy with each day her mother hadn’t returned.  You had to make a clean break.  It’s what your mother told you was the easiest.  Don’t make promises, and extend the goodbye.  

“Poet, you want daddy to give you ice cream?” 

“Nono!”

“Ice cream with chocolate,” she sniffles, loosening up her grip, and looks over at her daddy.  “Come here.  Let’s go see daddy, and you and him are going to have ice cream, okay?” She nods her head, but you repeat it again, “Okay?” 

“Tay,” her sweet self whispers, reaching for her daddy.

“I guess…” she wasn’t your child so to offer up coming home early if he needed you was silly.  The baby needed you, but you needed away from Curtis.  “I’ll see you in the morning,” Jax nods his head toward Curtis with a devilish smirk as he leads you to his bike.

Not at all what you were prepared for.  Before you can offer to take your car, he looks down at his phone, and you swear you hear him chuckle.  “Let’s go, Grace?  Where did that come from?” 

“It’s silly.  He calls me his saving Grace because I rescued him from the side of the road.  It’s nothing,” Jax didn’t hear much.  But he was going to enjoy torturing his friend.  

Even with the threat of, ‘You touch her, and I’ll fucking cut your dick off’ he doens’t care.  Curtis is going to have to learn to go after what he wants.  Even if Jax has to make him.  And a little jealousy might give you a fun time.  Time will tell.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season​ @marveloustaylortot​ @pono-pura-vida​ @sstan-hoe​ @missusbarnes-rogers​ @peaches1958​ @seitmai​ @smile1318​ @andydrysdalerogers​ @cjand10​ @midnightramyeoncravings​ @donutloverxo​ @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ @bambamwolf87​ @kandis-mom @awkwardgiraffe726 @kmc1989

[fellowplasticeater]

FIRST BATCH OF HUMAN NIGHTMARE CRITTERS!!

Sooo Here’s Some Things About Them And Why I Drew Them The Way I Did >.<

Rabie Babie

Renata[Renatka] Bura

She’s Based On The Gyaru Style Mixed With Just Those Mean Girls From The 90s With Fake Tans Who Well, Gossip Like Their Life Depended On It

Gave Her Angel Fangs Because I Think They’d Fit Her >u< She Loves Gossiping With Baba While They Paint Each Other’s Nails <3

Baba Chops

Basia Cicha

Goth. LOVES Siouxsie And The Banshees And Siouxsie Is Her Biggest Idol! Overall Prefers Being Alone Because She Hates Most Of The People In Her Class Lmao

She Tolerates Rabie And Likes Their Hangouts, But Wouldn’t Necessarily Call Her A Friend, More So An Acquaintance, And Actually Likes Poe The Most Out Of The Group!

Icky Licky

Ignacy Lipski

„You can’t hit me I have glasses kekekek” After Insulting You To Your Face

Anytime He’s Wrong He Says „It’s A Joke” Or „Dark Humor” And Is Legit Disliked By Most, He Also Wears That One VERY Uncomfortable Sweater That Just Hurts To Even Touch[Due To Being Y’know, Quite Toxic]

Maggie Mako

Magda[Madzia] Malinowska

Steals Your Fries After Telling You Not To Order Her Anything

Also Bullies People Out Of Their Sandwiches, Especially Lower Classes

She’s Pretty Sweet Once You Get To Know Here Though, She Just Really Wants Some Company..

Hope You Enjoyed!! Also Reminder, They’re All Polish In This AU Hence The Names ^v^

Please Let Me Know What You Think!!

[coreofmyfruits]

HEAD CANNONS !

★ Billy Loomis + Stu Macher

Stu Macher ↓

Physical traits

Pigeon toed

6'4

Has to usually duck down through door ways

Slouchy posture

Has immense upper back pain

Prone to head aches

Left handed

Large hands (Billy calls them monkey paws)

Warm hands

Has a bunch of scars on his knuckles

Has a lot of scars in general but they accumulate in the same general areas

Personality

ADHD

ASD (autism spectrum disorder)

NPD (narcissistic personality disorder)

Stu got diagnosed with ADHD at a young age due to always being an interruption in class and especially silent reading, always having to get up and be doing something. Not too long after he got diagnosed with ASD because of his lack of awareness and his parents concerns about him being behind in class work (he just wasn't doing it). Stu never got properly diagnosed with NPD he never even thought of himself being a narcissist.

Likes and interests

Horror movies (mainly psychological thrillers)

His favorite movie is Eraserhead

Favorite color is black (because when he first met Billy he thought Billy's eyes looked black)

Loves to read

likes to read to Billy in silly voices (especially when it gets to a 'serious scary' part of the book)

Likes Edgar Allan Poe and Oscar Wilde

He likes hip hop and rap but really likes ska punk and surfer punk (queercore is also a must)

Likes low riders

Unironicaly loves the show Pimp my Ride

Actively ghost rides the whip

Wants a jacuzzi in his car because of Pimp my Ride

Likes to compare hand sizes with Billy because it pisses Billy off

Uses Billy's head as an arm rest

Steals Billy's clothes specifically his pants because they're baggy enough to fit but he can wear them as low-rise and he loves when Billy tells him to take off HIS pants because Stu looks 'stupid'

Stu just likes it when Billy turns red and tells him to take off his clothes

Always an opportunity to carry Billy anywhere bridal style never an opportunity not to

The scent of Billy's shampoo and how he naturally smells like pinecones and rain

Antique surgical tools

Dislikes

Bitches, cunts, liars oh my!

Sydney, not because he's jealous of her and Billy but because he used to have a crush on her

Betrayal

Abandonment

Being ignored

Talked over

Fish he fucking hates fish

The beach after it rains

Tooth pain

Unneeded laugh tracks

Sitcoms

YA romance novels

White women audacity

Starbucks

Lines

Victim mentality and complexes

Billy's stubborness

Love languages

Acts of service

Words of affirmation

Physical touch

Sexuality

Bisexual

Billy Loomis ↓

Physical traits

Slightly bow legged

5'9

Overly Straight posture

General neck pain

Tense shoulder muscles

Has Hyperacusis

Prone to migraines

Left handed

Shorter fingers wide palms and strong grip strength

Always has cold as fuck hands

Has a lot of scars mainly on his middle to lower back

Half Mexican

Easily tans

Frizzy hair

(slightly) Allergic to red food dye

Personality

ASD (autism spectrum disorder)

ASPD (anti social personality disorder)

Billy has not been diagnosed with either ASD or ASPD he's not even aware of the possibility of him having one especially not both at once. Billy's father was never around enough to notice Billy's acute behaviors or to even think of getting a specialist to diagnose him also Mr.Loomis is a lawyer it wouldn't look good for his job if his son was 'crazy'.

Likes and interests

Horror movies (slashers)

Favorite movie is before sunrise

Favorite color is teal (he would never admit it but it's because Stu looks good in teal)

Mainly listens to the same three bands (pixies, Radiohead, my bloody Valentine)

Loves the song pink triangle by weezer

Has a guilty pleasure for 40s and 50s love songs

Likes to draw

Favorite artist are Keith Haring, Andy Worhal and Francis Bacon

Draws like Franz Kafka (he doesn't know who Franz Kafka is this is just a reference to what I think his drawings would look like)

Really likes playing in the mud and jumping in puddles

Loves worms

Eats the shit out of some Oreos

Plain hotdogs

Likes how large Stu's hands are

How Stu smells like warm wool and fire

When Stu picks him up

Biting Stu (mainly his shoulders)

Stu in HIS pants

Tea

When Stu reads to him

Blood

Phantom skulls

Dislikes

Sydney, he's never even liked Sydney not before he found out about her mom and his dad and especially not after... He just always had this feeling

Tatum Riley (he looks better on Stu)

Cops pigs and donuts

Healthcare system in America

Abandonment

Betrayal

Being cut off

Being hung up on

Noise in general

Phone bills

Lawyers

Ableist(ism)

Ableist infrastructure

Gender pay gap

Misogynists

Hamburgers

Poppyseed buns

Layering clothes (he would rather freeze than put more than over shirt on)

Socks

Shoes in the house

Hot weather

Sweating

Baths

Coffee

Reading

Love languages

Words of affirmation

Acts of service

Gift giving

Sexuality

Asexual (non sex repulsed) and queer

★

Tags !

@ghostfacemp3

[the-ninjago-historian]

Post Series Jaya Doodles and Headcanons!🌊⚡🌊⚡🌊⚡🌊⚡🌊⚡🌊⚡🌊⚡🌊⚡ (Bonus Next Gen Headcannons!👀)

Happy Valentine's Day everyone! 😁💖 I worked really hard on this. So I hope you all enjoy! Headcanons are below the cut! - ✒️🐉

1) They have a HUGE wedding. Many friends and Family come. And I headcannon that Jay has a very big extended family so that's a lot!🤣

2) They move into the old lighthouse and fix it up/fortify it. It eventually becomes a small rest stop for ships.

3) Nya runs a mechanics shop for boats and water craft there. And Jay has a shop to sell salvage, drift wood, and knickknacks. He also does a little inventing on the side. Although it doesn't usually end well. Lol. Name ideas for their shops would be appreciated!

4) They have a LOT of kids. Five to be exact. Ray, Maya, Ed, and Edna are very proud grandparents. The kids are, in order from youngest to oldest, Piper, Ren, Wynn, Raine, and Poe. Currently I only have a design for Poe. (Seen above.) But the rest are coming. I can assure you. I'll provide some descriptions in the meantime!

Poe: Pictured above! He's very calm and charismatic. And while he's a good fighter and pirate hunter, he enjoys quieter hobbies such as painting. His main weapon is a harpoon.

Raine: Very light skinned. With curly silver hair. (Her hair color is caused by her unique elemental power, Storm!⛈️) She's a little in the small side. But still sturdy and a real fighter. She's a tough cookie! Raine eventually becomes part of the Next Gen Ninjas.

Wynn: Light skinned, with black curly hair. Always wearing a pair of flight goggles. (He's an inventor like Ed and Edna.) Eternally curious and questioning.

Ren: He's got red hair like Jay, and tan complexion like his mom. Ren's got an explorer streak and loves charting new islands. He plans to sail to the other side of Ninjago's oceans someday. He's almost never seen without Wynn. The two are inseparable.

Piper: The baby of the family! She has blonde hair like Libber. She may be little. But she's brave. Not too much on her currently. But she will have a bigger role to play in the future.

5) Cole LOVES their kids. And is very protective of them. (Like "would give his life for them" kind of protective.) He practically treats them as though they were his own. He's their bestest uncle, besides Kai.

6) Raine has a mix of both Nya and Jay's element. She's the master of Storm. She's the first case of a merged element in Ninjago history. And when she was young, it was VERY unstable. Raising a super powered baby was NOT easy.

7) They are pirate hunters. For reasons...🧞‍♂️ Anyway! Their family is known for keeping the coasts of Ninjago safe and sound. Especially their oldest boy Poe, who's shaping up to be a great pirate hunter.

8) They own a flying ship! They needed a way to get to shore fast and since they didn't have the Bounty, Nya and Jay just built one of their own. It's smaller but just the right size for them. And it's called the Storm Rider. It's even got cannons for taking down pirate ships!

(P.S. Two quick things! One, these headcanons are related to a fanseason I'm working on called Ninjago: New Genesis. So that's why they don't line up with Dragons Rising. And two, yes. I noticed Poe's eyes are miscolored in one pic. They're supposed to be brown. I didn't notice until after I finished.😂)

(Tag List: @only-lonely-stars @hydroelectricjaya😁👋)

[suenosyfantasmas]

"Deseo poder escribir algo tan misterioso como un gato".

Edgar Allan Poe.

Creación digital: Seyfert_AI. "Luz y sombras".

Fuente: Pinterest.com

Sueños y fantasmas. El arte de soñar.

[resplendentoutfit]

Deathly Pale

The desire of women for ultra-pale skin didn't end with the Elizabethan era. In Victorian times, women still coveted the look of translucent white skin and applied the same causic, poisonous substances to their face, neck, arms and hands. Turbuculosis was a common cause of death in the era. The look of death was considered romantic for its tragic and poetic beauty. Even if a Victorian woman wasn't charmed by death due to turbuculosis, she still coveted pale, translucent skin. Tanned faces were the result of long hours of work out-of- doors, belonging to the lower classes.

“The death of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world.” - Edgar Allan Poe

The two predominant beauty standards were the painted beauty and the natural beauty. The later was the preferred ideal of the average fashionable woman. The methods she employed to achieve good skin and complexion were all in an effort to look natural. The overly painted look was seen as racy - the province of prostitutes and "loose" women.

Upon a well-off Victorian woman's dressing table were arsenic, ammonia, and opium, among other toxic substances. The Ugly-girl Papers, Or, Hints for the Toilet was a book published in 1874 that contained a series of beauty articles for Harper's Bazaar. The author recommends coating the face with opium before bed and a brisk wash with ammonia in the morning. How refreshing.

Lotions containing lead were popular for whitening the skin as well as erasing freckles and other blemishes. Complexion wafers containing arsenic were widely advertised. These products were peddled to women as being harmless when, in fact, they caused headaches, nausea, and even paralysis.

To achieve eyes with a seductive gaze, Victorian women used Belladonna or Deadly Nightshade in the form of eye drops, which diluted the pupils. Eye irritation and even blindness were reported symptoms of this practice.

A little color over that deathly white facial palor was usually achieved with beet juice and sometimes, animal blood. It's intriguing to wonder how women came into possession of animal blood, though the answer may be as simple as a purchase from a local vendor. Vermillion, also known as red mercury, was used to tint the lips and was known to be poisonous.

Virginie Gautreau, the subject of the famous John Singer Sargent painting known as Madama X, was not only known to use products to whiten her skin, but was also purported to use indigo dye to paint veins over the ultra-pale veneer of her skin. I haven't found any sound evidence of this, however. What I did read in both The Collector and in an article at minsooki, was that over her arsenic pale skin, Virginie used a lavender powder to counteract the warmth of candlelight.

What's most troubling is that in the face of ample evidence of the health consequences of many of these products, women continued to value the look they provided, over their own health and safety.

References:

• Molly Brown House Museum: Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder: How Victorians Used Common Poisons to Become Drop Dead Gorgeous

• Awful Forever

• Atlas Obscura

• minsooki.com

• The Collector

[muerder-snail]

I rewatched the Raven today and for those who don’t know the movie “the raven” is a movie about someone recreating poe’s stories in the form of murder cases and edger himself has to solve the mystery. While watching though I noticed a lot of similarities designed wise between the characters of the raven and the nevermore comic.

Now this might be common and I’m just finding out but for others who don’t know like me I’ll piont out what I found.

Emily, poe’s love interest in the movie and the one the poem “Annabel lee” was written for in the cannon of the movie; looks like Annabel from the comic

Now Annabel does have more tan skin but Emily’s father in the movie and Annabel’s father also look a lot alike. (I couldn’t find a good picture of Emily’s father)

Then there’s also this guy who looks a lot like prospero. I choose the wrong pic for my guy in this but it’s what I have on hand.

The names Mary and Percy where also mentioned but that might just be coincidence.

All of this could be coincidence and me reading to far but idk I love both these things so much and I couldn’t help myself.

@gothwineaunts help I really need confirmation if this is just me being crazy or not!

Edit: there is a scene where Emily is playing the piano and it reminds me of the piano scene from one of the new ep’s of nevermore when lanore is playing the piano for Annabel

[neospacegov]

(Redraw of the album cover for Haunted by Poe)

[ID: digital painting of the artist’s characters, Ephraim and the twins Libel and Slander. They are separated into sections. Ephraim is an Asian woman with tan skin and shaggy, dark hair. She wears red-framed square glasses and a black stud earring. She looks up in fear and awe toward a floating orb, bedazzled with the word “Mom.” Many hands reach for her face. One set of hands has nails studded with rhinestones. They are too light to be Ephraim’s. The other set are the small and pale hands of the twin girls.

In the bottom third of the piece is the faces of the twins. They are repeating images of each other. Both are pale with short, dark hair framing their faces. Slander’s hair is slightly longer, shading one eye with the rest pulled back by hair clips and a small ponytail. The same hands that reach for Ephraim grasp at the twins. Libel smiles and Slander frowns. /END ID]