#this post comes to you from me reading more of Poe’s work

[majosullivan]

SO

In episode 62, we learnt that at some point while they were alive, like Annabel has a pet name for Lenore, Lenore had a pet name for Annabel, with Annabel questioning why Lenore still calls her Annabel when Lenore claims she remembers everything.

Now, I’ve seen a lot of different ideas about what it could be; angel, belle, anything flower adjacent, and most popularly, Annie. Interesting thing about the name Annie, Poe actually has a poem named ‘For Annie’. For a summary of the poem: A dying man gives thanks that his "lingering illness," life, is finally over. He talks about how no one should pity him since everyone will lie in the same bed he does. Furthermore, his death is not final. As his lover, Annie, looks on him and cries because she thinks he is dead, he declares that his heart and his thoughts are more alive than ever, for they are filled with the sight of Annie's love. Though dead, he lives on because of her love.

Thanks to the thumbnail of episode 90, it seems like we’re going to get to see or at least get more information on how Annabel died, and if our assumptions are right, how Lenore died as well (fastpassers you better drink your water and mind your business cause if episode 90 ends up being a episode 77 situation when it comes to spoilers, I am coming for your knees). Since we had reference to the poem ‘Lenore’ in episode 66, if Lenore’s pet name for Annabel does end up being Annie, it would definitely be of good use to look for references to ‘For Annie’ in the way Lenore thinks of Annabel, especially if we get a look into Lenore’s thoughts before she died.

I’m going to leave a link to the poem so everyone can go to have a quick read of it. There were quite a few lines that reminded me of different details in the comic (you’ll see what I mean)

[karaaaak]

Is it 4 am when I posted this, yes. Do I car. No. Get attacked with my draft about some things about some of the specters I find neat! If anything I say in this post is wrong, or could have something added to it I would LOVE feedback, I’m still getting the hang of long form posts lol

Anywho! Most of my point here are going to be from either Wikipedia or someone else’s post. I have really bad memory so if I say something that seem familiar to a post you or someone you know made then people mention it and I’ll tag them!

First specter I’m gonna talk about is Eulalie’s.

Eulalies specter, as show, is a chimera, more specifically a Baku!

Baku’s are “Japanese supernatural beings that are said to devour nightmares”. Which explains Eulalie dreameating and possibly also the dispeller of evil spirits ability

Another fact I found interesting is that in a legend about the Baku “a child would wake up form a nightmare and call for the Baku by repeating “Baku-San, come eat my dream” three times. Then the Baku will come into the child’s room and eat the nightmare and the child will go back to sleep peacefully. However calling the Baku should be used sparingly, because if they remain hungry after eating a nightmare they may also devour the child’s hopes and dreams as well.”

Im not to sure if that is relevant to Eulalies character at all but I felt like it was worth adding!

Another thing that many have pointed out is that the markings of Eulalies arms resemble burn marks. Along with the fact that after using her dispeller of evil spirits ability she coughs a flame of fire.

Next specter I wanna talk about is Bernice’s!

I don’t have too too much to talk about with her specter, just some bits and bobs I picked up on rereads

Bernice’s specter in one of my favorites, just because of the fact it’s similar to a self defense mechanism for lack of a better term. Basically what I mean by that is the things she list is death her specter has a large amount of, and another things. Which leads me to the mouths.

The mouths, to me, are extremely interesting. If i remember correctly I read this on a post so credit or op even though I can’t remember who it was 😭. But the placements of the mouths on her specter could be the places she was touched without consent and/or inappropriately. The mouths seem to work as a self defense to her body, biting at whoever comes near on their own. Proctecting those spot of her.

Another thing about her design is the focus on teeth. First then her death and her teeth falling out, and on her specter, with the large teeth on the extra mouths. This association comes from the Edgar Allen Poe story she was based on, Bernice. If you haven’t read it I will spare you you read and put the wiki summary here

“The story is narrated by Egaeus, who is preparing to marry his cousin Berenice. He tends to fall into periods of intense focus, during which he seems to separate himself from the outside world. Berenice begins to deteriorate from an unnamed disease until only her teeth remain healthy. Egaeus obsesses over them. When Berenice is buried, he continues to contemplate her teeth. One day, he awakens with an uneasy feeling from a trance-like state and hears screams. A servant reports that Berenice's grave has been disturbed, and she is still alive. Beside Egaeus is a shovel, a poem about "visiting the grave of my beloved", and a box containing 32 teeth.”

Weird, i know. 😭

Another thing is her pearls. I couldn’t find any mentions of pearls in her story but she has a strange association with them. From them falling off during her death, her having many of them in her specter, and even her outfit in the fast pass episode (fast pass at the time of writing this but ep 126). I’m not to sure what this mean but i figured it throw it in!

Im think thats all imma do in this post, maybe if i find motivation ill make a reblog of this with Ada and Monty (if not Monty then Annabel)

[dem-obscure-imagines]

New Year's Eve Kisses 2024

Note: It is once again that magic time of year. As is tradition around these parts, I have written five drabbles of characters from different fandoms to celebrate the New Year, specifically, the tradition where people kiss the one they love as midnight strikes. Sorry I’ve been so inactive as of late. I’ve been working on some big things in the writing sphere (as far as my original fiction is concerned anyway), but I hope you all enjoyed the two big fics I did post this year. May the new year smile on all of you, and may your reading and writing endeavors be fruitful. Love ya!

For additional context, Poe’s is a continuation of I Know the End, my big Star Wars fic from earlier this year. You don’t need to read it to enjoy this, but if you’re confused, that’s why. A little gendered language in that one (Princess and such) but the other four are gender neutral.

Fandoms: Wicked (Movie), Star Wars, DCEU (rip, she will be missed), DC CW Universe, Bridgerton (Show)

Total Word Count: 4.2k words

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, kissin’, some language

Fiyero Tigelaar

Words: 0.6k

Fiyero Tigelaar, the Winkie prince, was no stranger to a party. Unsurprisingly, he was tearing up the dance floor, dressed in his finest, just before he was meant to be sent off to his next school. When he’d arrived, he’d warned you he wouldn’t last long. He’d been right. He was going to Shiz University. But tonight, he intended to make the most of it.

As always, he had a flock of followers around him, fawning at his every move. You smirked into your glass, trying to avert your eyes. He didn’t need any more attention.

That, of course, didn’t stop him from coming over to you with that intoxicating look in his eye. The guy was charming, you had to give him that.

“And what are you doing over here?” He asked, leaning against the bar where you were perched.

“Celebrating the New Year, Your Highness.”

He grinned. “What, all alone?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You should be out there. On the floor. Dancing.” He said, motioning to the others, still lost in the rhythm of the song.

“Seems a little crowded.” You reasoned, smirking. “Don’t you have enough cronies?”

“I could use another.” He all but murmured, the tone of his voice making your heart shudder. “Besides, it’s my last night. I feel like I didn’t get to know you well enough.”

“Well, you did warn me not to get attached.”

He hummed at that, nodding. Still, he offered his hand and you hesitated for a long time before finally taking it. One final leap. It wouldn’t matter, in the long run. He was transferring schools, and you doubted you’d ever see him again. But you were kind of glad your paths had crossed.

And so you danced and danced and danced, twirling and laughing, not just with him, but with the others there, gathered on the dance floor while the Animal band played you off into the new year.

Then, at the end of the night, just before he could slip out unnoticed, you caught Fiyero leaving.

“Leaving so soon?”

“Told you not to get attached.” He said quietly, going through his satchel, that wry grin returning to that impossibly handsome face. “Came to see me off?”

“Didn’t mean to. I was making my escape, too.”

“Ah, I see. Well, it sounds like you’re missing the countdown in there.”

“That was kind of the point.”

He smirked. “Come here.”

“Why?”

“I never properly thanked you for your help in class. I’ve been told I’m quite…”

“You’re not stupid. I know you pretend to be.”

“Still, I was forgetful. Careless. You covered for me.” He smiled softly. “Thank you.”

Finally, you were right in front of him. He held something out. A token. A little, stitched seal from his home territory.

“I know it’s not much, but if you ever need anything, where I’m from, this is enough to get it for you.”

“Thank you, Fiyero. That’s really sweet.” You said softly.

“Happy New Year. Good luck with the rest of the year.” He said earnestly before that infamous smirk pulled at his lips again. “Try not to miss me too much.”

“No promises.” You said with a chuckle.

Then, something inexplicable happened. Fiyero took a step forward and pressed a long, soft kiss to your forehead. It was meaningful. Unlike the countless times he’d made out with countless members of the student body. Men and women alike. And yet, at the same time, you knew you were just a stepping stone. Passing ships.

Still, as you watched him ride off, you were glad you’d met.

Poe Dameron

Words: 0.9k

On base, no celebration was taken for granted. With all the constant fighting and battles, loss and destruction, you needed to spend some time celebrating when things went right. And for so long, so many years of your life, that had been the case.

But the war was over now. You were back on your home planet, Mariposas, ringing in the first new year as the princess of your people. The first new full year of peace in the galaxy. You dressed in one of your nicer gowns from the first war. One the Ewoks had made for you. It was hand-dyed with materials from their home moon, Endor.

You did your hair, setting a tiara on top. There was a knock on the doorframe, and suddenly, your fiancé was standing there, fiddling with the sash of some traditional Mariposan garb. It was a new thing, as he was not Mariposan. Instead, he was human. Very human. Now, an all-but-retired human pilot. A war veteran, and the soon-to-be prince of your home planet.

“Alright, give it to me straight. I look ridiculous.”

“You look handsome.” You reassured, walking closer, taking both of Poe’s hands in yours. Large and rough. Tan and calloused, both from the steering rod of his X-Wing as well as the blaster he fired for so many years. It hadn’t seen action in quite some time, thankfully. Still, it remained at his hip, much like your lightsaber remained on yours. “Princely, even.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not.” You insisted, shaking your head, gazing up at him. Your eyes glimmered with love. “Since when do I lie to you, Commander Dameron?”

“Hey, I thought we said no titles in private quarters, Your Highness.” He replied, lacing his fingers through your own, pulling one hand to his lips and beginning to kiss up your exposed arm. “You really think it suits me? I don’t want those dignitaries to laugh me out of the party.”

“I think everything suits you. But if you’re really that worried about it, I’ve still got that old flight suit of yours tucked into the back of the closet.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You and that flight suit…”

Rey cleared her throat. “Ready?”

“Yeah, we’re good. Heading down in a second. You look lovely, Rey.”

“Thank you. So do you.”

“Looking sharp, Poe.” Finn agreed, following after her in his new and improved Jedi robes. Since he’d finally begun the last leg of his training, it only made sense that he looked the part. It suited him. It really, really suited him.

“Right back at ya, Finn.” Poe grinned, watching as your friends walked down the hall. He let go of your hands and offered his elbow instead. “Well, shall we?”

You looped your arm through his, following him down to the beginnings of your party. The ballroom was filled with people. Mostly, your war friends and allies. Leia was there, Lando, Wedge, Snap and the rest of Black Squadron, and of course, your sister and her husband and son. Finn, Rey, and Ben. They all chatted, mingling through the large, mostly reconstructed ballroom.

You and Poe melted into the crowd, catching up with the people you hadn’t seen in forever, congratulating them on weddings and new babies, while all of them asked about yours, your planned wedding to one Mr. Poe Dameron, your fiancé and the love of your life. Admittedly, wedding plans had taken the backseat in favor of building your home planet back up from the literal ashes, opening your doors to war refugees, victims of the First Order who now found themselves without homes. Many of them were now in the room with you, celebrating their new lives, however different they were from their old ones.

It was good. It felt right.

Finally, at the end of the night, after several glasses of Mariposan mead, Poe found his way back to you, grinning that tired, tipsy grin of his. His arms wrapped around your waist and he rested his forehead against yours.

“Heeeeey, Princess. There you are. You look stunning. You having fun?”

“Definitely. Looks like you are, too.”

He nodded, smiling. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, pulling you closer. “When’re we getting married, baby? The people wanna know.”

“Oh I know. They’ve been asking me, too.” You chuckle. “I’m sorry it’s been relegated so far back. It’s just been busy with the planet reconstruction and the new Jedi Temple and…”

“Nah, that’s okay. I knew what I was getting when I proposed to a princess. You’re a busy lady. I don’t care when we get married so long as it happens. But…I wouldn’t mind soon.”

You smiled softly, nodding. “I think soon sounds good.”

The droids let you all know the new year was approaching and people gathered to count it down.

“I love you, Princess. Thank you. For all of it. For coming into my life. For winning the war. For saving me. For letting me hang out here on this awesome planet even though I am totally overstaying my welcome.”

“Stoppppp.” You giggled, shaking your head. “Thank you for waking me up. Without you, I literally would not be standing here.”

“Alright, well, if we keep thanking each other for every little thing, we’ll be here all night and I don’t know about you, but I have some more pressing plans for the evening.”

“Like what?”

“Like this,” he replied, pulling you closer and pressing his lips to yours, movements languid and loving as the party around you rang in a fresh new year, the war long gone, and the peacetimes just getting started.

Digger Harkness

Words: 0.9k

Holed up in a dingy bar while chaos ran rampant through Metropolis was not the way you thought your New Year’s Eve would go. But being a member of the Justice League…stranger things had happened.

You, alongside a group known as Taskforce X to some, the Suicide Squad to most, had just, more or less saved the world. But due to the disarray, their envoy hadn’t yet been dispatched to pick them up. Hence the bar. And you, as the one trusted person that knew of their existence aside from Rick Flag and Bruce Wayne (because Bruce knows everything), were relegated to babysitting duty while Rick filed the paperwork. Standard stuff. Breakdowns of the battle, heroic acts by the group members, that kind of thing. Things that would reduce their prison sentences, in theory, if doing so many of these impossible missions didn’t kill them first.

You perched on a barstool, chin rested against your fist as you watched the clock tick, listened to the sounds of the sirens in the distance as things calmed down. Crisis averted. Another Tuesday in Metropolis.

Boomerang scooted some rubble aside with his elbow, motioning to the stool beside yours. “Anyone sittin’ here?”

“Nope. Knock yourself out.” You said, chuckling softly, shaking your head.

“Aw, come on now, (L/N)! Why the long face? We saved the world, again.” He said, bumping his elbow against yours playfully. “It’s worth celebratin’, ain’t it?”

“Definitely. Celebrate away.” You replied, managing a tired grin.

He hesitated, eyes scanning you. “You feelin’ alright? Didn’t use too much of that energy of yours kickin’ alien ass?”

Your smile grew and you shook your head. “No. Sometimes, Boomer, I’m just tired.”

He glanced at the clock, as the New Year neared, closer and closer every minute. “You had plans, didn’t you? Tonight?”

Bingo. “Yeah, it wasn’t anything major, just…a night in with some college friends. Watching the ball drop. Sipping cheap wine.”

He hummed, nodding. He glanced around the rundown bar, windows cracked in from the near-apocalypse that had just blown over. In the corner of the room, Deadshot and Killer Croc were tweaking the wiring of a slightly damaged TV. It flickered a few times and then, against all odds, the countdown came on.

“Well, there we go. There’s one down. Let me rummage around back here.” He walked around the side of the bar and dug through the supplies before pulling out a bottle of sweet, cheap wine. One of the brands you liked. He pulled out the least damaged wine glasses he could find and poured you each a glass, sliding one across the bartop to you.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” You said, trying to fight the smile on your face. Trying to keep your wall up. You were a hero. He was a criminal. A diamond thief. Your antithesis. And yet…his charms had been chipping away at the barrier around your heart since you first met. Even moreso since you’d been fighting on the same team.

He shook his head. “You deserve a nice New Year’s. Shouldn’t have to give it up to hang out with lowlifes like us.”

You wanted to retort, but you didn’t, instead sipping your wine as the anchors on the TV talked about the disaster in Metropolis, how this New Year’s Eve had very nearly been the last. “Well thank you anyway. You’re not bad company.”

He huffed at that, looking unconvinced.

“I mean it. I…don’t know what I expected when I signed up for this, but…it wasn’t you guys. I thought you would all kinda hate me. It’s nice to be tolerated, though.”

“And I thought you were gonna be some prissy buzzkill that looked at us like we were…” He shook his head, not finishing the thought. “But you’re not.”

You were quiet for a moment. “Thank you.”

“I already told you, this is nothin’—”

“Not for the wine. For earlier. You took a pretty bad blast for me. Blocked me so I could take the final shot. You saved the world.”

“You saved the world. I just gave ya a boost, love.” He murmured into his wine glass. The word curled around his tongue gently. You’d never heard him use it before. Not directed at you.

“You saved me.” You insisted, meeting his gaze.

His eyes softened. “I did my best.”

You reached over, gently taking his hand, like you were approaching a wild animal. He flinched, but his rough fingers curled around yours, giving your hand a squeeze.

“You have a resolution?” You asked.

“Yeah.”

“What is it.”

“Can’t tell ya or it won’t come true.” He replied, grinning.

“That’s birthday wishes. Not New Year’s Resolutions.”

He looked conflicted for a moment before saying. “Nah, it really won’t come true if I tell ya.”

“Why’s that?” You asked as Harley began to loudly count down from ten in the corner of the room.

“It’s so unrealistic, is all.” He explained with a shrug, eyes searching yours as the seconds melted away until finally, midnight struck and the others yelled out, celebrating the new year.

“Let me be the judge of that.” You murmured, leaning forward and capturing his lips.

He gasped into your mouth, squeezing your hand as he kissed you. His surprise evaporated into something much more solid and real. You could tell he’d been waiting for it just as long as you had. Maybe longer.

When it was over, he rested his forehead against yours. “I still have to go back to Belle Reve.”

“I know.”

“But…you’ll come visit?”

You chuckled, giving a wry grin. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Cisco Ramon

Words: 0.7k

A cute, sparkly New Year’s Eve fit? Check. More alcohol than any human could reasonably consume? Check. A metahuman headache from hell? Also, check. Unfortunately. After sending out a few texts, cancelling your plans, you gathered a stack of DVDs, some fuzzy pajamas, a pile of blankets, some tea, and some painkillers.

You let out a sigh, taking in your surroundings. Sure, you were cozy, but you really had been looking forward to spending time with your Star Labs coworkers. They’d welcomed you to Team Flash without so much as a hesitation, especially once they found out about your powers. They were some of the only people that understood you. Over the last few years, they had become everything to you.

Caitlyn sent you a text telling you to feel better, as did Barry. Nothing from Cisco. You expected him to send a Tiktok or something to cheer you up, but you didn’t beat yourself up over it. You were sure they were all out having fun at a karaoke club or something.

Until there was a knock on the door.

Eyebrows furrowing, you stood up and walked to answer it, pulling it open. Cisco was standing there, holding a pizza box, a scarf wrapped around his neck, snowflakes caught in his long black hair.

“Pizza Delivery for a (Y/N) (L/N)?” He asked, looking you up and down. “Is that you?”

“Thanks, Cisco.”

“Don’t mention it.” He grinned, stepping through your front door and kicking the snow off his boots before taking them off in the doorway and setting them down on your shoe shelf, as he had so many times.

“Whatcha doing? Don’t you have plans?”

“I did. And then one of my friends got a wicked headache from their awesome superpowers, so…plans changed. What are we watching?”

“Uhh, Howl’s Moving Castle right now. I was gonna switch to the countdown after, though.”

“Ooh, Howl’s! Classic. I got your usual. With that cream cheese dip you like. And, I stopped at the pharmacy on the corner and got you migraine meds.”

You smiled at that, heart swelling as he said it. “Cisco…”

“What?” He asked, taking off his coat and tossing you the bottle of pills. You caught them, reading the label on the bottle.

“You really didn’t have to do this.”

“Uhhhhh, yeah I did.” He shrugged, plopping himself down on the couch, setting the pizza on the coffee table, gently moving your mug aside. “Come on. Settle in. This castle isn’t gonna move itself.”

“Actually, it kinda does. That’s the whole point.” You chuckled, settling into the spot next to him, leg brushing his.

The two of you watched the end of the movie and your migraine meds started to kick in. You felt a lot better. Still, as you flipped the channel to the New Year’s Eve countdown, where some singer was on stage. You got up and carried the leftover pizza to the fridge, fetching a bottle of the beer Cisco liked, which you always kept stocked…just in case.

When you returned, he grinned, looking at the bottle. “See, you take care of everyone else. It’s about time someone took care of you.”

“Yeah, yeah, just drink it.” You chuckled, settling back in, sitting even closer to him this time, his arm perched on the back of the couch. One thing led to another, and somehow, your head wound up on his shoulder and his arm wound up around yours.

You sat in comfortable silence as the show played on, making comments and jokes every here and there. You laughed a lot. You always seemed to when he was around. Then, finally, they started counting down.

“Hey, uh…” Cisco started. “This is totally not the reason I came here, but…um…would it be alright with you if I…”

You smiled, lifting your head from his shoulder and turning to look at him, impossibly close. His warm brown eyes searched your features for any sign of hesitation. Of rejection. Instead, you reached up to touch his face, pulling him in for a kiss before the ball even reached the bottom.

He smiled against you, leaning into the kiss. You could tell he’d been wanting this. Waiting for it.

And when it was over, a few minutes after midnight, if you were honest, he rested his forehead against yours for a moment before pulling you back against his chest. “I’m glad I came. Best New Year’s Ever.”

“I’m glad you did, too. And if you want…I, uh…I’d like to keep kissing you. Into the new year.”

He grinned. “Fuck yeah.”

Penelope Featheringon

Words: 1.0k

The Queen was no stranger to a good party. She loved the drama, the intrigue, the young love blossoming all around her. Which was why it was no surprise to you when invitations to a grand New Year’s Eve Ball arrived in the post. All of London was buzzing with speculation of who would wear what, who would dance with whom, and most of all, if the infamous Lady Whistledown would be in attendance, hashing out all of the details in a special holiday edition of her newsletter.

You, for one, couldn’t wait to find out.

As the evening unfolded, you mingled a bit. Reconnected with old friends you hadn’t seen in months, since the majority of the Ton had retreated to their country estates for the colder months. You watched as the Bridgerton brothers controlled the room. Every eligible lady and then some had their eye on them, much, it would seem, to Benedict’s dismay.

Meanwhile, you turned your attention to Penelope, who stood at the corner of the room. Listening. Watching. She was good at that, it seemed.

“Hey, Pen. You look lovely this evening.”

Her cheeks flushed pink at the sudden attention. So used to being invisible, it was hard, being seen. “Thank you. You look g-great as well, (Y/N).”

You smiled. “Thanks.”

The silence grew in the space between you. Like weeds in the pavement.

“I can’t believe it’s the end of another one. I feel it’s gone so fast. These last months, especially.” You said.

She nodded. “Yes, since October, it’s been quite the blur. Any prospects?”

You laughed. “None. Yourself?”

“Oh, no. It does surprise me, though. That you don’t have any.”

“Haven’t been social enough, I suppose. Mother keeps trying to drag me to parties, but I’m completely content at home with a good book and a glass of wine.”

“The solitude is nice. Gives one time to think.” Penelope said quietly, looking around the room. “Although, I don’t mind a party.”

You raised an eyebrow at that. “Really?”

“Not in the slightest. I think they’re quite fun. I like people watching. Listening to the drama. Mr. Silver over there, for example, just spilled champagne all over his wife’s new silk gown. Mr. and Mrs. Rose married in a hurry, but seem to be on rocky ground, despite seemingly being a love match.”

“Lust match, is more like it.”

Penelope laughed at that, nodding in agreement, making a mental note to use that for later.

“I guess I’ve never seen it like that. I’d been so focused on my own loneliness at these things that I never realized there was so much going on.”

“Well, if you ever do find yourself alone and unhappy, we can be alone together, if you’d like.” She offered, eyes sparkling with sincerity. And perhaps something more, though you couldn’t be sure.

You smiled, nodding. “I’d like that.”

As midnight approached, you wandered out onto the terrace, snow falling from the starlit sky. It was cold out, but you didn’t mind. It had been getting rather warm inside, what with the roaring fireplaces and the room full of people. It was quiet. Not to mention gorgeous.

You took a long moment to think. Penelope Featherington. Penelope. Someone you’d been friends with for so long. Someone who, you’d thought until tonight, had never carried anything but friendship in her heart for you…now, you weren’t so sure. For the first time, you’d seen something more in those wide, gorgeous eyes of hers.

Your next breath floated off into the sky, a puff of steam in the cold winter air.

“You’ll catch your death out here.” A voice said, the door to the terrace opening. It was Penelope, dressed in her cloak, clearly getting ready to make her escape.

“Where are you going?”

“Home. It is nearing the stroke of twelve and I wish to get home and rest.” She said. “Why are you out here?”

“I was getting warm in there.” You confess, though now, you’re trembling.

“Aren’t you hoping someone might kiss you when the clock strikes twelve?” She asked softly. “There are plenty of options roaming the floor, on the search for their victims.”

“That would be the other reason I am out here, then. I have no desire to have my lips…entangled with some of those bachelors. I have never had a New Year’s Eve kiss, none of them will be my first.”

“Neither have I.” She confessed, footsteps crunching softly in the snow. “A New Year’s Eve kiss, or…any other.”

“I could kiss you.” You blurted suddenly. “If you like. If not…forget I ever—”

“You would?” She asked, almost too quickly. Silence hung between the two of you, as thick and sparkling as the snow.

You stepped closer, footsteps crunching impossibly loudly as the murmurs of the party drifted up into the cold winter air. Vaguely, you could hear them counting. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was you and her. “I would. If you want.”

“I would like that very much.” She whispered as you finally stood in front of her.

Slowly, gently, you leaned forward, a tender hand touching her face. Her breath hitched, eyes flicking from one of yours to the other before finally landing on your lips, just as you closed the distance between the two of you. It was sweet. It was slow. It was everything you expected it to be and more. Her floral scent drifted through your nostrils, that intoxicating scent that reminded you of spring, even in the dead of winter.

When you pulled apart, you brushed the vibrant red hairs from her forehead before pressing another kiss there, as well. “Happy New Year, Penelope. Thank you, for letting me get a head start on my resolution.”

She smiled softly, gazing at you. “To kiss as many eligible women of the Ton as you can?”

“No, to kiss you.”

And as soon as those words left your lips, you soon found hers on them again…

[noonfrost]

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here is my ko-fi!

do not hesitate to simply shoot me an ask/email if you want more information or are unsure about something! i'm always happy to answer any questions :^)

i will not respond to DMs and i will likely notice emails faster than tumblr asks. i only accept serious commission inquiries through email, so if you want a slot that is the only place to message me about it! (sometimes emails get thrown to spam for weird reasons so if i don't reply within 2-3 days just message me again or let me know over on tumblr and i'll see what happened)

i'll draw original characters or fanart, either way have as many references/descriptions ready as you can

i'll likely not draw animals, explicit content, mecha/furry/etc. i lean heavily towards fantasy and i'm huge into pillars of eternity (1st example is a godlike from poe) so i'm alright with drawing most fantasy races, however not so much into sci-fi. but don't be afraid to simply ask and i'll see what i can do!

i could possibly paint a small pet, as seen on the 2nd example, it will come with additional 10€, either way we can discuss the possibilities, don't hesitate to ask :^)

please do keep in mind that i might not accept your request if i'm not comfortable with the things you ask me to paint, thank you!

payment is up front through ko-fi. after you secure a slot (and i confirm that you do have the slot) we talk through the details and i will try to provide a simple sketch first. after that is approved by you i will request full payment through ko-fi and start working on the actual commission.

i will not accept AI generated images as references

after receiving the finished commission you are allowed to post it wherever but always with credit, do not claim the art as your own. you are also not allowed to sell it for NFT or AI purposes. i do not consent to my art being used in such way or being modified and reposted without credit.

[irritablepoe]

My ao3 fics - Masterpost

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Bungou Stray Dogs

Multiple Chapters:

how do i say goodbye (22/?) - follows ranpoe's relationship post-canon

embrace the sound of enchantment (3/?) - royal au for ranpoe with ranpo as the prince and poe as his servant

communication methods (8/8) - stalker/yandere poe with a very willing and encouraging ranpo

Ranpoe Oneshots

i could never forget you - ranpo and poe decide to meet up, though even after waiting for an hour, ranpo doesn't show up; hurt/comfort

in the low lamp light i was free - ranpo comes home from defeating fyodor. poe takes care of him

too much at once - poe is overwhelmed at a party; ranpo takes care of him

the feverish heat of yours - omegaverse au, omega!poe and alpha!ranpo

awake on a midsummer night - poe has his obsessive moments. ranpo does too.

do you regret meeting me? - ranpo asks poe exactly that; poe shows him how much he loves him

(un)holy ghost who haunts your home - poe has a dissociative episode when he's outside with ranpo

betrayal from the beginning - poe is kidnapped by fitzgerald; ranpo saves him

meet me on the rooftop - ranpo and poe have a conversation on a rooftop while looking at a sunset

keeping an eye out (while i flirt with you) - bartender au, lots of flirting

you hold me hypnotized, i'm mesmerized - character study/inner monologue of poe

mine to possess - pre-canon poe and his brother talk about ranpo; he's at his worst here

a worthy opponent - may the better one win - pre-canon interaction of ranpoe before the mystery game

i'm sorry - hurt/comfort; self-esteem issues

dig deeper into flesh - ranpo whump

Other Oneshots:

kill me with your kindness (i'll gladly surrender) - fyolai; fyodor needs a hug

bleeding memories - mushimizo; character study

tell me you're part of me - fyodor and poe meet because of business; fyodor tries to get poe on his side

a hat a day keeps the bad thoughts away - multiple fandoms; crack fic about hats

are you getting sentimental with me now? - poe and fitzgerald; poe is at his worst when he shows up to breakfast; fitzgerald takes care of him

shared grief of broken men - fitzgerald and poe talk a bit about grief and life

courtesy visit - gone wrong (no clickbait) - poe and lovecraft go on a mission together

a ship for the two of us - bramcraft; they're enjoying a meal (a ships crew) together :3

Moriarty The Patriot

pillows to ride on in a maid dress - louis; i'll not elaborate, the title says it all

need a little help with that? - continuation of "pillows to ride on in a maid dress" with james bonde

Vicious

let this bullet pierce you - victor finally hunting eli down

torture me lightly - post-canon; victor sees hallucinations

with my last breath i think of you - victor dies and thinks of eli

Crime and Punishment

your help heals all my wounds (17/?) - post-canon events of crime and punishment; razras; dunya/sonya

affection - oneshot; razras

there will come a soldier and a poet - lotr au; poet!raskolnikov and soldier!razumikhin

Jackaby

not a word of gratitude - jackaby is alone. he'll always end up alone

don't turn away with this heavy heart of yours - abigail and jackaby talk about jackaby's emotions

Arcane

rest now - viktor is extremely sleep-deprived and faints. jayce finds him

Six Of Crows

a wild dogs last growl - kaz whump, held at gunpoint

get drunk on her absence - kaz whump, drunk

these are not all of my fics, if you want more go check out my other works. a lot of them are written for whumptober 2023, so mind the tags on them. mind the tags in general lol.

thank you for reading through this and if you decide to read them thank you as well it means a lot to me <3

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[flaresanimedump]

Thoughts on Ranpo

I said something about Ranpo being a jerk but being the nicest person around from his perspective on twitter yesterday and my meta got too long to post there. This got way out of hand and is more of a Ranpo analysis than an explanation. Anyway:

Let us first consider Ranpo’s perspective in general. Ranpo can look at a person, place, or thing and know everything about it if he so chooses. He figured out Fukuzawa was an assassin in about 30 seconds and that was before he gained 12 years of experience as a detective.

His glasses gave him the confidence to acknowledge he was smarter than everyone else – something he was afraid of because, as he said in Origins, being smarter than everyone else meant he was all alone and because being the smartest person around meant that if he was wrong no one would catch his mistake in time as we see with Kunikida. But what we don’t acknowledge often enough imo is that the primary thing Ranpo does with his glasses is not wear them.

What Fukuzawa said when he gave Ranpo the glasses was: “If you put these on, your ability will activate, and you will be able to see the truth, right then and there. On the other hand, when you’re not wearing them, other people’s simplemindedness will not bother you anymore.”

(This is, of course, the basis of the ability Fukuzawa later manifested – “You can turn your power on and off at will” – but I digress.)

But Ranpo could already do the first part. He was like Scott Summers from X-Men who can’t turn his power off. If you notice, when Ranpo’s in Poe’s book with Yosano, Ranpo isn’t actually bothered by knowing things. He starts deducing the case out of sheer annoyance, and it’s only when Yosano goes “wow you’re on a roll” that he snaps at her and stops. Despite all his supposed self-importance, he spends the entire case trying not to be special.

He also gets mad and asks “are you saying the president lied to me?!” which. He knows. Fukuzawa told him to his face it was a lie. What matters here is that he didn’t acknowledge it because he didn’t want to know.

Imagine you have the ability to be better than everyone at nearly everything. Go to get your car fixed and they can’t figure out where the short in your electrical system is? Well, you can, so shouldn’t you do it? You go to the doctor and they’re not sure what’s going on with that click in your wrist. Well, you'll know if you just read a couple of anatomy books, so shouldn’t you do it? You go to the coffee shop, to the grocery store, to the post office, and you can do everything better than everyone else, so shouldn’t you?

Fukuzawa correctly believed that Ranpo had the confidence and support to drop the glasses charade after their first case. But what Fukuzawa really gave Ranpo with the glasses, and what Ranpo clung to for so many years, was an excuse to turn it off. To say no, I’m not taking all that energy to do all that thinking for other people. To see someone be totally, completely, maddeningly wrong and go “huh, sure I guess,” as long as it didn’t interfere with his life. To not be expected to just deduce how the trains work.

And to save his energy for more important things. Yes, some of the information comes easy, but it did take him a little thought to figure out Fukuzawa's past. He believed everyone was doing some thinking all the time, but the revelation that he was the only one would put all that effort on him. There's a reason most colleges limit the number of finals you're required to take in a day: you can't apply yourself forever without burning out. Ranpo admitting he was smarter than everyone else without the glasses would have had him on track to either run himself into the ground or harden his heart at the tender age of 14 to protect himself.

Case in point: it's Ranpo who says he has to protect all the "foolish infants" around him just seconds after he finally admits he's smarter than everyone else - and just seconds after he's been given an excuse to not kill himself doing it.

Circling back to the statement that triggered this essay: Fukuzawa’s final bullet point in his explanation of Ranpo’s ability is that nobody hates him. Ranpo digests this, and in the anime we see flashbacks to him getting thrown out of the academy, but we also see him at his parents��� grave. Now, what would his parents’ deaths have to do with people being foolish or hating him?

Potential answer: Even when he shuts his brain mostly off, Ranpo knows what people are going through. He knows their pasts, when he needs to, their bad deeds and things they’d like to keep secret. We've seen that he knows what would hurt them the most, too (re: his intro episode when he repeats Yamagiwa’s last words to Sugimoto.)

Other people don’t.

Other people might make an off-color joke that they don’t realize breaks their friend’s heart. Other people might spend two years guessing Dazai’s history and making strong generalizing statements about how evil and deplorable everyone in the Port Mafia is. Other people might accidentally get caught whispering at a funeral about how they heard the boy’s mother had an affair, which, to Ranpo, looks like intentionally being overheard saying things you know are lies about a kind and wonderful dead woman.

For two years he didn’t understand that they didn't know. For two years he walked by thousands of people who saw an energetic young boy, but he thought they saw an orphan who was lonely and hungry and sad. It looked like people hated him, because why would they say the things they said if they knew? (They didn’t.) Why would they walk by him if they knew how he felt? (They didn’t.)

In the novel he says “all the times I was suffering” at this revelation, implying it happened often and he couldn’t understand why people were so awful.

Of course, Ranpo is still a jerk – but he could be much worse. He’ll tell people they suck to their faces and advocate for leaving Atsushi to be sold on the black market and be obscenely arrogant, but legitimate stabs, those awful moments when you put your foot in your mouth and really hurt people – he never does that by accident. But other people do it to him by accident. For friends he knows just what gifts they want for the holidays, knows their favorite and least favorite foods, and a dozen other little things other people don't know and make it look like they don't care about him enough to pay attention.

Which finally brings me to my original statement: Ranpo is a jerk but from his perspective he’s the nicest guy around. Assuming they're idiots and "not being bothered by the ignorance of others" lets him ignore their lack of social graces.

[oneinathousand]

I've assembled some lesser-known quotes about Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee, I hope there's at least one in here that most of you have never seen before, though the super-fans among you have likely seen them all ;)

Lee fancies himself playing Aragorn, the archetypal heroic figure of the piece - he would probably be cast as Sauron, the Satanic figure in Tolkien's Middle Earth - but he feels that only a Walt Disney feature cartoon could possibly do justice to the work.

-"Cinemafantastique" Vol 3 No 1 (Fall 1973)

I knew that Lee wanted to play Gandalf when he jumped on board the LOTR movie trilogy, but I didn't know he apparently originally wanted to play Aragorn! My guess is that once he got older, he figured he would be better as Gandalf, though of course he didn't get it. But Lee as Aragorn... if he played the part in the late 50's, 60's or early 70's, I could see him pulling it off, what with his swordfighting abilities. Did he ever comment on the Ralph Bakshi adaptation?

After the liberation of Germany, he [Lee] visited a number of the concentration camps, including Dachau, a deeply disturbing experience which, he says, provided him with such a close-up view of the charnel house side of real life that he is unaffected by anything he sees or does on the screen.

-The Dracula Scrapbook, Peter Haining

I have decided now to tell a tale a bit "out of school" regarding the relationship between Peter and Helen Cushing, especially since this is a lady who remains a bit of a mystery to most Cushing fans - like a figure out of an Edgar Allan Poe tale, considering the way Peter lionized her as if she was indeed his "lost Lenore." During the latter part of 1977, I saw quite a bit of Christopher Lee as he and his family were living in Los Angeles where he played golf (and made the occasional film or television movie of the week.) One afternoon, we were at lunch, and the subject of Peter and his wife came up in conversation; Christopher leaned over to me and said, "You know David, Helen Cushing was a bit of a psychic vampire in life; she kept Peter very close. It was as if she could read his very thoughts before he had them. They really were soulmates of the first order; make no mistake about that! I don't think Helen ever really trusted me where Peter was concerned - even after he and I had made several films together. In fact, Helen used to say to me, "I know you think you are now bigger than my husband don't you?" Well, I just looked at her, smiled and said, "Well Helen, I am taller than Peter you know." Christopher felt that Peter had such guilt - imagined or not - about anything he might have done when they were married; if for example he ever found himself attracted to any of the Hammer glamour girls; whom he worked opposite, it all was now too much to bear. On the other hand, Vincent Price responded to Peter's intense mourning with his usual brand of humor. During the filming of Madhouse, he observed Peter discussing ways of communication from beyond the grave by perhaps installing a phone in the crypt; Vincent listened to all this and then replied with that unmistakably deadpan voice, "Well Peter, what if she's out?"

-David Del Valle, "Diabolique" #16

A few of you may recall seeing a quote posted here from Lee calling Helen a psychic vampire. I tried to find the source for that, but I couldn't. Instead I found this other version, possibly by the same person, which seems to give more insight about what Lee actually thought of Helen, and it comes off as much less harsh on his part than the other one.

A while back, I looked up interviews about the making of The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires, and I swore I saw a magazine or something where Roy Ward Baker, the co-director of the movie along with the Shaw Brothers, said something about Cushing during the making of it to the effect of: “He was absolutely miserable, poor bugger.” But I forgot to take a screenshot of it then and for the life of me I couldn’t remember where it came from, I tried to look through my search history but couldn’t find it. I swear that I saw it, though!

Oh well. Next up is a quote about Lee and Cushing watching Looney Tunes together for the last time, get your tissues out...

In the early 90s I worked for Hammer Films and was asked to organise a voiceover recording for a Hammer Films documentary. Both Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee had agreed to work together one last time. Christopher Lee had asked me to organise one thing: a television and a VHS player in a private room and to have some alone time with Peter. After the recording, I cleared the studio and left Peter and Christopher alone with the TV. They hadn’t noticed that I was still at the mixing desk so I waited to see what they were going to be watching. I saw Count Dooku and Grand Moff Tarkin sit watching Looney Tunes cartoons – each doing perfect impersonations of Sylvester the Cat and Tweety Pie – all line perfect! I can’t remember exactly – but I think Christopher Lee was Tweety Pie and Peter Cushing was Sylvester.

-"Popbitch" 2015 Annual, the quote is just credited to a "JH", but IMDB lists a Jane Hughes as having worked as an assistant director in the Canterbury studio where Lee and Cushing recorded their voiceover, so this is most likely her. I personally would like to believe that Lee was playing Sylvester and Cushing was Tweety because Lee said he was always Sylvester to Cushing, and come on, Cushing MUST have been Tweety, that character would fit him like a glove!

For this final quote, I'm gonna do something different and copy-paste a whole interview done with Lee by a guy named John Exshaw about Cushing a year before the latter died for the magazine Cinema Retro, the interview being put up on their website. The formatting on the interview is all messed up, so I fixed the apostrophes and em-dashes and will put the whole thing here for your enjoyment.

I find this interview fascinating not so much for what Lee says about Cushing, but for how it implied he saw himself compared to Peter:

I didn’t meet him until we did the first Hammer movie. I’d seen him. Of course the thing which I’d seen which impressed me most, understandably, was 1984, which was remarkable. He was wonderful in that… Live TV! [shudders]

Total dedication; and this is the answer to why Peter Cushing is an actor. Total dedication. Total! The most professional actor I have ever worked with. And I’m not going to say underrated, because he isn’t underrated. He’s highly regarded all over the world as a brilliant actor, and deservedly so. The record shows that… Also, one thing that we do share, I think, more than anything, which is more important than anything else - I think we share the same dedication, I think we share professionalism, I think we share the same feelings about doing the best we can - one thing we certainly share is the same sense of humor, which of course the general public is totally unaware of. If they knew what we got up to on the set in every film we’ve made… the imitations that I used to do… Oh, we used to dance together in the rushes, yes; me made up as the Frankenstein creature, a sort of, a sort of, what do you call it - buck-and-wing dance, you know. And in years and years and years he and I have shared this idolatrous love of the Warner Brothers cartoons, you see, and Sylvester, and Tweetie Pie, and Yosemite Sam. And I’ve always imitated them, you see, and he’s done the same. And we used to do that on a set; people used to think we’d gone out of our minds, and we’d make each other laugh. Sometimes it’s so important - in a way, it’s absolutely essential - but we’re both of us ice-cold when it comes to doing it, even if we’ve been been laughing a few moments before. And that’s a thing we also share, total concentration.

And what can I say about Peter Cushing that I haven’t said before? I mean, consummate actor, brilliant technician, and a marvellous human being. I’ve always said, you know - I’m sure you’re aware of this - that he should have been a priest… Because there is a great love for his fellow man. There’s an almost superhuman loving kindness in Peter, and it’s always been in there. I’ve never heard him say anything harsh about anyone. He’s also a deeply religious man. Those are the two things we don’t have in common. I’m afraid I do say what I think. I’m not tactless but I am a more direct person than he is. I don’t have his tolerance. I don’t have his gentleness. I don’t have his faith; I wish I did…

He is not an easy person to get to know, believe you me. There’s a lot about Peter that I don’t know… But of course, as you know, Helen died in the 1970’s and that is his only desire left in life. And it’s genuine. He has stayed alive because he’s a man who would never take his own life because that would be a great sin, and he has stayed alive through some pretty terrible experiences, you know. He’s had cancer, and problems with his legs, his hips, breathing, and all sorts of medical problems, but the spirit is unquenchable and the speed of thinking and the mind haven’t changed at all. I mean, it’s another cliche - the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. The same thing with Vincent [Price]; mind like a rapier, both of them. Only the physical disabilities of getting old…

But he’s certainly one of a kind, and of course this business of staying alive, simply existing, which is how he looks at his life - existence. He’s only waiting for that moment; only waiting for it. And he’s been waiting now for twenty-three years. It must be terrible to be so admired and so loved and so respected but to impose, I feel, on yourself, deliberately, a sort of monastic seclusion which he seems to prefer. He seems to; I mean, you wouldn’t think of it if you saw him with a group of people but I think he prefers to be alone. I don’t think the house is full of people. I don’t think there’s many very, very close, intimate friends - but nor have I, and nor have many people.

Acquaintances, yes; admirers, yes - scores of thousands all over the world, people who feel they know him, people who feel that he’s a friend - all that. That’s on a professional basis; I think on a personal basis, I get the impression that he’s a person who keeps his life and his relationship with his wife very much to himself. It’s locked up in a cupboard of which he has the key. He doesn’t open that cupboard and release anything unless he chooses to. But I don’t either.

[thearcanarevival]

I personally haven't seen anyone talk about this yet and i think it would be interesting to point ot out (maybe im saying something obvious but i don't know)

I think the red plague from the arcana could be inspired by the masque of the red death by Allan Poe, the symptoms are really alike and the whole vibe Poe describes in the masquerade ball with nobles on his book really fits in the vibe The arcana had in the masquerade ball too, and i think that's amazing. And i don't know if i remember correctly (correct me if not!!) but there were also different rooms that you could enter and do different activities(? Reminded me of the different colored chambers from the book, if you squint

The Arcana Discussion

I will say I swear I read some post back in the earlier days of the fandom that talked about a possible correlation between Edgar Allan Poe’s work, The Masque of the Red Death and the masquerade ball scenes in The Arcana.

And even if there was no inspiration or influence from Allan Poe’s work it does share a level of similarity with the ball scenes. Also, I am not an avid reader of Edgar Allan Poe’s works so the similarity between the two is completely lost on me. So the fact that you see such similarities is pretty neat to me. Overall, it is interesting how even if Allan Poe’s story did not influence the ball scenes in The Arcana it shows how us humans can come up with similar ideas without meaning to.

Feel free to give your opinion on this headcanon in the comments. Also, give me your headcanons, theories, fanart, and so much more.

[winstonsns]

Hiii I was wondering if you can do the Curtis gang with a platonic little Curtis sister who’s like Lucy loud from the loud house?

the gang and child lucy loud!reader (request)

authors note: please bear with me guys i have 16 requests in my inbox rn LMAO. this was fun to write, i hope you enjoy 💗 TUMBLR ISNT LETTING ME POST THIS HOLY SHIT

includes ponyboy, johnny, soda, darry, dally, two-bit and steve

word count: 1.5k

warnings: cussing, mentions of being jumped and made fun of

PONYBOY CURTIS

because you’re pony’s sister and so close in age, you’re extremely close to each other

you and pony feel like you can tell each other anything even though you’re naturally pretty closed off

the two of you are academically smart and love reading and poems, both of you talking around once a week about a new poem you’ve read and how you felt about it

he began to read edgar allan poe poems, pony giving you a book filled with all of poe’s creations so you could talk about it more

both of you are quiet, sometimes enough to hear a pin drop because you’d rather listen in on conversations rather than interact in them

you prefer to talk to one another in private, both of you being next to each other in several settings but no one seeing you talk to each other

if anyone tried to mess with you or if he hears someone talking shit about you, he’ll ask, “you talkin’ ‘bout my sister?” and give them a sharp glare, a warning not to do it again

JOHNNY CADE

like you, johnny’s very skeptical of things and is always alert of what’s around him

he really enjoys being around you and pony, the three of you aren’t necessarily the closest in age all together but you’re all so different but so alike

he always tries to take care of you like how the gang takes care of him, wanting you to have a better life than he does

he doesn’t necessarily like fighting but will defend you if you get into trouble

the two of you are very aware of everything that is around you, always skeptical of people and not fully trusting others

you’ll talk to one another on whether or not you feel like you should trust a specific person or go to a certain event, knowing some socs might try to jump you

he thinks you’re unsettling at times though, you’ll sleep in the same position the whole night and won’t move in the morning, you basically normally stay still all the time

it also freaks him out that you can be in another room, far away from him then he’ll call your name and you’ll be right next to him

he loves being around you, you’re different from anyone he’s ever met and he really enjoys that

SODAPOP CURTIS

soda protects you all the time and is always with you, the both of you notice nearly everything and hardly miss a detail

even though you and soda aren’t the closest in age, he feels like he can talk to you about anything

he helped you become a little more social and persuaded you to open up to others

the two of you are basically opposites, people will see a handsome guy who’s bubbly and smiling at nearly everyone he sees, then next to him is a girl wearing gothic clothes, quietly observing her surroundings

most of the time, soda picks you up from school and will sometimes drop you off at the DX with him so you can talk together while he’s working

if anyone tries messing with you or makes fun of you, soda sticks up for you and even beats someone up if they try to hurt you

his main goal is for you to know that you aren’t alone, you can talk to him if you feel the need to or just to talk about your problems

you voice your concerns and tell him he can always come to you too if he needs to, being with him makes you feel full and happy inside even though others don’t see it

DARRY CURTIS

although you were like neither of your parents, darry feels the most obligated to take care of you

because you are the only girl in the family, he takes extra precautions to make sure you’re safe wherever you go

you’re his favorite sibling because i said so

since you know he has a lot of weight on his shoulders because he feels the need to take care of you and your siblings, you try to listen to him so his job can be easier

he gets a bit frustrated sometimes because you don’t show emotions as often as others, it causes him to wonder if you are actually mentally okay

but one day, darry asks you if you’d like to help out with the cake even though he was expecting you to say no

but you say yes, the two of you begin to make the cake and by the time it’s in the oven, there’s flour on the countertops and you thank him, “thanks for asking me to help you, darry.” not even directly looking at him but the appreciation was visible

he then realized you were capable of emotion, as was he although the two of you were viewed as people who never showed their feelings

DALLAS WINSTON

dally thinks your style is so cool, he occasionally swipes something from your favorite clothing store and gives it to you

the two of you actually really get along because it’s hard to tell if you care about him and if he cares about you

the both of you show it in small ways though like when you speak about how much you appreciate the time you have with him

or when he notices and points out a new shirt or accessory you’re wearing, knowing you like to be noticed in that way

you’re one of the kids he can actually tolerate and get along with

if he hears someone talking bad about you then they end up going home with a broken rib

he taught you how to fight, giving you a switchblade with good qualities and looks to your liking

he honestly gets really freaked out when you appear out of nowhere, he’ll be talking to johnny then will turn around to see you looking up at him

you always wear some type of covering over your eyes, whether it’s bangs or sunglasses, dally will let you borrow his sometimes

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

keith likes how you feel free to act however with no shame, socs stay away from you because you’re a little kid and they believe you know too much

basically, they just don’t beat you up or anything because they think you can do way more than others are aware of

sometimes you’ll go over to keith’s house so you can play with his sister, he loves how the two of you get along well

you’ve also protected her from getting hurt, her brother really appreciates that

he thinks your style is pretty cool because you’ll dress sort of gothic, he wonders where you get those clothes and sometimes steals some for you

once, he asked the gang if they wanted to go to a pool where it was mostly socs, all of the others were busy but you went with him

he expected you to just put your feet in but you came out with a full on swimsuit

he didn’t know you were capable of having fun, but you later confessed you just wanted to spend time with him

he also tries to make you laugh with his jokes, most of the time you only smile at them though

STEVE RANDLE

when steve first met you he fucking hated you, then he grew to appreciate you

he never really had a reason to dislike you, but gave in and started to get closer with you when soda had told him you were cool

steve finds your monotone voice pretty calming, he likes having full on conversations with you and talking about cars

probably thought you were a sociopath up until you researched more about cars so you could talk about it with him, you told him about it

he then realized you actually cared about the friendship and begins to appreciate you more

he’s surprised when you tell him you listen to death metal, he expected you to listen to angsty music

although he dislikes ponyboy, he enjoys being around you and wants you to hang out with the gang as a group

he gets really pissed off when people make fun of you, always defending your name and getting all up in their faces if something bad is connected to you

[604to647]

Safest with You (Ch. 11 - The Poker Game)

5.9K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: Din hosts a poker game and invites you and your friends; the meeting of friends prompts a discussion about the status of your relationship.

Warnings: 18+ content (MDNI please), new-ish established relationship, dirty talk and teasing, mentions of infidelity (not Din), reader gets in her own head a bit (some anxiety), pet names as usual (Pretty bird, pretty girl, baby, sweetheart, etc.), reader is described as shorter than Din and Din can pick her up.

A/N: Please kindly suspend your disbelief and allow me to write Poe Dameron as Boba Fett’s son 😂😂😂 Like, when I thought of a roguish, charming, sh*t disturber son of a mob boss, Oscar Isaac’s delicious face just came to mind 🤷🏻‍♀️ I'm going to level with you, I wasn't a big fan of Poe in the Sequel trilogy - too much fly boy/fuck boi energy for me, and that's kind of how I'm writing him here. I'm sorry, Poe-lovers, please don't come after me! (For the record, I *am* a big fan of OI!)

I ran a poll on WIP Wednesday asking asking if there was a preference to separate the smut at the end this chapter into its own post. I told myself that if even one person answered that they wanted it separate, then I would do that; it's easy enough to click on the link at the end of the chapter to take you to the smut if you so choose! I hope no one is disappointed that the storyline is moving in the direction where smut will be a regular addition to the chapters - but if that's not your bag, I totally understand! I'm sorry if you need to go and am so thankful that you've read along to this point 😘😘😘

Series Masterlist

In the following weeks, you and Din fall into a comfortable rhythm and easily slot each other into your busy lives.

Your nightly dog walks resume and on most week nights Din tries to stay at your apartment, with you working late more often than not and it being closer to your office.  He’s becoming a familiar face to your work colleagues, bringing you (and often them as well) dinner as an easy and welcomed excuse to see you.  Some days he’ll just join you for a lunch trip to your favourite sandwich shop and the two of you will have a quick picnic outside your office building if the weather is warm enough.  Weekends are for long, lazy dates that span the entire day, rolling into romantic dinners that have you and Din eating your way across the city.�� It’s so easy being with Din; the conversation never stops, the sex is brain meltingly good, and he never ceases to make you feel adored.  If anyone were to ask, you were the smartest, funniest, most beautiful woman on this planet and Din would readily unretire his boxing gloves if anyone dared to disagree.  Every moment with Din makes you giddy; not only is this bear of a man actually a secret softie, he’s also goofy and funny, and lucky for you, his new favourite pastime is to make you laugh.  

One night over dinner, you mention in passing that you love the arm waving tube men outside of used car dealerships (actually, you don’t know what they’re called, so you did a sort of arm flail with both your arms above your head and Din almost died laughing).  The following Saturday, you arrive at the gym in the afternoon to find that Din has rented two tube men and they’re bending, blowing this way and that, arms flying and rippling from the force of the air being blown from the fan units in their base.  You join a large group of onlookers in front of the gym, mostly children, laughing and watching with amusement as the silly attention-grabbing gimmick brings you pure unadulterated joy for a good 10 minutes.  After going in, you find Din folding some towels next to the boxing ring and you launch yourself at him directly, too full of laughter and delight to care who sees.  “Thank you thank you thank you thank you,” you murmur against his lips, unable to stop smiling.  Din picks you up so you can wrap your legs around him, not caring who sees either; he wants everyone at the gym to know whose girl you are.  Feeling your big smile against his mouth before seeing it, he grins, “You’re welcome, pretty bird.” 

“Are they a permanent feature?”

“Unfortunately, no.  Just for the weekend, then I have to give them back to the used car lot down the street, Watto’s.  Plus, people keep coming in asking if we’re having a special on memberships today,” he says with a groan.

Giggling, you slide down Din’s body and give him a long, deep kiss, one that will guarantee a fair bit of ribbing from the guys, before heading up to Din’s apartment via the gym’s second floor entrance.  Most of these indulgent weekends start at Din’s so he can stay close to work – you take to baking in Din’s apartment and bringing down treats for the patrons, which are generally very well received.  When you brought down ginger molasses cookies, Greef had jokingly scolded you saying his boxers shouldn’t have too many sweet treats as part of their training, before scarfing down two cookies, then swatting Jimmy’s hand away from the plate and pocketing three more.  You’re sure your offering the following weekend of high fibre raisin bran muffins were better for training regimens, but the enthusiasm for them seemed lower. 

Din’s place, the apartment and the gym as an extension, starts to feel more and more comfortable; a small collection of your things (books, toiletries) have migrated to his apartment, and you love that the familiar faces at Mando’s are starting to fold into your life as well.

The only small twinge of regret you have is that with all the time you're spending with Din, especially the time spent at his place, you’re not spending as much time with Al.  He’s more than welcomed at Din’s but you hadn’t wanted to uproot him too much, or impose too much on Din too quickly, so on the weekends Bea’s been coming by to walk Al and take care of him.  You miss your special guy, your long weekend walks and dog park events; as you cut the butter into your shortbread cookie dough in Din’s kitchen, you decide that you have to make more of an effort to make sure Al isn’t left out.

“Can you do me a favour?”

“Anything, pretty bird.”

“Do you think you might be able to hang out with Al tomorrow night?  I feel like he’s feeling a little neglected, and I don’t want to leave him alone.  I’d take him to Rory’s but her building has a weird no pets rule,” you pout a little as you scratch Al’s head with one hand while holding the phone to your ear with your other.

Without hesitation, Din agrees, “Sure, baby.  I’d love to have him over during poker night.  Guarantee he won’t feel lonely.”

“I’ll make some food for your poker night as a thank you!  And I’ll bring a dog bed too.  God knows I have a few to spare,” you chuckle as you scan your apartment to pick a bed to bring.

“No need, pretty bird.  I bought Al a dog bed for here already.”

“Of course you did,” you smile to yourself.  Thoughtful, thoughtful man.

And that’s how you find yourself with two big bags of food, an overnight bag each for yourself and a dog, and said dog in tow, looking up at the long flight of stairs leading up to Din’s apartment.  Luckily, you don’t have to wait very long before his thundering steps are heard and he comes to help you carry everything.  Once on the top landing, Din gingerly places everything on the ground before pulling you in close for the greeting you deserve.

“So… I’ve been thinking…” Din starts, almost shy, “Do you think your friends might like to come over and hang out here?  It won’t be a ‘girls’ night’ but there’s food and drinks and it might be fun for our friends to meet? …I mean, if you think it’s a good idea?”

Grinning at Din’s suggestion, you think outloud, “I mean, it’s not a bad idea… I’ll check with Rory and Bea, but what brought this on?”

Din answers by burying his face into your neck and nibbling on your earlobe, “Just like being with you, pretty bird.”

You relent easily, “Ok, but I’m warning you right now about playing with Rory, she’s going to take you all to the cleaner’s.”

“Good.  It’s been boring being the only one who wins money,” laughs Paz, who has suddenly appeared.  Giving Din a pointed look, “Hey, you know, the gentlemanly thing is to help the lady carry her bags inside,” before giving you a big bear side hug and greeting you with his new nickname for you (“Hey, Lil’ Lady.”) He picks up the food bags and heads in, passing Bo who’s on her way onto the landing to say hi.  For one reason or another, you haven’t seen her since Jimmy’s fight night; after a big hug, she looks at you with seriousness, “Thank god you’re back.  This one,” she jabs a thumb at Din, “was an unbearable grump while you were apart.  Please never leave us again.” She takes Al’s leash from you, and leads him inside the apartment; a second later you hear a raucous cheer of “Alfredo!!” followed by Al’s happy barks.

After setting out the food you brought (caprese sandwiches, sugar dusted mascarpone-blueberry turnovers, bruschetta) and putting what needs to be warmed in the oven (garlic knots, salmon-onion dip, turkey meatball pops), you text the girls and receive an enthusiastic response to the suggested change of plans.

Sitting on Din’s lap to give him the good news, you pass around the sandwiches to the delight of the players already seated at the big card table Din set out for the occasion.  You’re excited that the Mandos that are here tonight will get to meet some of your friends and you tell them so.

“Looking forward to it!  And… you get to meet Poe tonight,” says Koska, with an almost apologetic look.

“Who’s Poe?” you ask, curiously looking around at the facial expressions of the Mandos, ranging from eye rolling to what can only be described as shit eating grins.

Din explains, “He’s Boba’s son.”

“And you guys… like him?”

“We have to,” quips Paz, which is met with laughter from the group, “but we also do for real.  He’s just… a lot.”

Mayfeld chimes in, “He’s all about having good time; always trying to up the ante cause he’s got ‘My dad’s a big deal’ energy and always has.  Used to start shit for fun when we were in school cause he knew no one could do anything to him.”

“I remember it more like he would start trouble with that smart mouth of his, then one of us would have to finish it.”  Paz looks at you, “Used to be me and Din standing between him and a bloody nose, every damn time.”

Din appears to be a bit more forgiving of the past, “He’s calmed down a bit now… still has the smart mouth and a lot of energy, but blows off steam in more constructive ways… like poker instead of all night partying.  Which is like the rest of us, really…”

Jimmy reaches past you to grab a sandwich, “Yeah, the rest of you old timers…”

“What was that?”, Bo cocks an eye brow at the young boxer, who smartly pretends to be incredibly invested in selecting the right sandwich.

Wrapping his arms a little more tightly around your waist, Din draws soothing circles on your thigh with his fingers, “Don’t let Paz give you the wrong impression of Poe; he’s just bitter because he was always the one who ended up getting in trouble when someone wanted to kick Poe’s ass.”

Paz huffs, “Yeah, getting in trouble for defending him when he probably should have taken a pounding; kissing someone else’s girlfriend half the time.”

“Omigod” you giggle, as Paz puts Jimmy in a loose headlock; revenge for the “old timers” comment.

Woves pipes up, “Oh yeah, he’s still a shameless flirt.  Warn your friends.”

“Warn her friends?! Warn herself!” exclaims Koska.

“He’s mainly all talk though.  Lisa would slit him from balls to throat if she ever caught him cheating,” Woves explains, seemingly to you.

“Caught him again, you mean,” Koska grimaces.

“Oh shoot.  I forgot about that girl on the yacht.”

“I wasn’t even thinking about Fennec’s birthday party, but yeah she was pissed.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“Donut shop,” chime in Bo, Mayfeld, Din and Paz in unison.

“Lisa is his girlfriend?” you ask, unsure.

“His wife.  And the mother of his two beautiful kids.  They’ve been together since high school.  On and off, if you haven’t guessed already,” Bo looks embarrassed, even though she has no reason to.

Din hooks his chin over your shoulder and says gently, “That was in the past, though.  They’ve worked through it and he’s been good.”

“Nah.  I bet he just got good at not getting caught.  Always assume cheating until proven otherwise, is what I say,” pontificates Mayfield.

“And that, Mayfeld, is why you’re single,” snickers Woves.

“Right, and you’re beating them off with a stick,” counters Mayfield.  The group laughs, but you find yourself quiet.  You know the Mandos are just joking around and that they’ve all known eachother forever, but you can’t help but bristle a little at the casual way they talk about Poe’s past (and potential?) infidelity.  If the rest of the Mandos are anything like Din, you know they value loyalty and fealty, but did their sense of unwavering commitment not extend to partners?  You and Din haven’t officially discussed exclusivity; you had assumed that like you, Din wasn’t seeing anyone else – but maybe that wasn’t the case. 

You can feel yourself getting in your own head and before you can help yourself, an image of Din kissing someone else flashes before your eyes and your heart constricts painfully.  Sliding off of Din’s lap, you excuse yourself to go check on the food in the oven; you make to busy yourself with taking out and plating the food, but you can’t help it, the heart-breaking image has taken root in your mind.  You’re mad at yourself for spiraling so quickly over something created entirely by your own overactive imagination.  Yes, you haven’t confirmed your relationship status with Din, but he hasn’t given you any reason to give any weight to your sudden anxiety.   This stabbing pain in your chest is entirely of your own making and you feel so much embarrassment that you start to tear up a little bit, which makes it even worse.

You’re not sure how long you’re in the kitchen wallowing, but it must be a while because Din comes in looking for you, “Need any help, pretty bird?”

Turning away from him, you say quietly, “No, thank you though.  I should have everything out in a minute.”

And just like that, Din knows something is wrong; he makes sure you don’t have anything in your hands before wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his nose right behind your ear and kissing your neck lovingly, “I’m here, baby.”

He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, even though he wants to know.  He doesn’t ask how he can help, even though he would do anything to make it better; he just wants you to know he’s there and that you can come to him on your terms.  You turn in his arms and bury your face into him, breathing in his soothing scent and instantly feeling calmer.  Face smooshed into his chest, you mumble, “Dhnn, dyoothkchhhteenisohhhk?”

Din chuckles, “Sorry, pretty bird, I don’t think I caught that.”

Leaning away slightly, but not making eye contact, you re-ask your somewhat loaded question in a quiet voice, “Din, do you think cheating is ok?”

Cupping your jaw and tilting your head up to meet his concerned eyes, Din says gently, “No, no, I don’t, sweetheart.  What brought this on?  Is it because we were talking about Poe?”

You sigh a small sigh, “I guess so.  You just seem to all be so… okay with his cheating history?  At least everyone talks about it so casually.  And I’m guessing you all know Lisa too… I feel so bad for her if everyone is talking about how her husband cheats like it’s so normal or something…”  You collect yourself and take a deep breath, “Din, actually, no, I’m sorry.  That’s being presumptuous.  You’ve all been friends forever and have so much shared history… I don’t mean to assume anything about your friendships.  I just… I didn’t know if the way Poe’s cheating seems to be no big deal… means that all cheating is no big deal.”

“I see,” considers Din.  He knows this is a serious topic and it obviously means a lot to you, but he can’t help but find your anxious state somewhat endearing, you aren’t usually so flustered and it makes him desperately want to scoop you up in his arms and soothe away your worries.    He bends down to give you a little peck on your lips before picking you up by your waist and placing you on a free space on the counter.  He doesn’t want you to be able to avoid eye contact with him when he answers, “Pretty bird, I don’t blame you for getting the wrong idea.  You’re right, we probably are too casual when we talk about Poe’s exploits.  It’s been going on forever, and he’s kind of like… a show that we get front row seats for?  Like a celebrity kind of?  We love him, and he give us something to talk about, but the way he lives is not the way we live.  He lives in a totally different world than the Mandos; when you’re the boss’ son, you play by different rules.”

You gaze reverently at Din as he so patiently and lovingly talks you down from your self created ledge and can’t help but let a little smile crack.

“Poe… well, you’ll see.  Poe is Poe.  Can’t be mad at him.  And sometimes that makes it seem like the shit he pulls isn’t that bad.  But, baby, for ourselves?  I promise you, no Mando has ever been a cheat.  It goes against everything we stand for; we don’t cheat each other, we don’t cheat the family, and we definitely don’t cheat in our relationships.  And I swear to you, baby – I never have and would never cheat.  Not on anyone, but definitely not you.”  Leaning in to alternate soft kisses to your lips, your neck, the corners of your mouth and your nose, Din’s voice gets low and husky, “Why would I want anyone else?  You’re my dream girl.  You make me laugh and smile.  You’re so sweet.  And the smartest.  You know how smart you are?  I’m obsessed with everything that comes out of that mouth.  I could listen to you talk about anything for hours.  Days.  And you’re beautiful, and kind, and you take care of me, and my friends.  Just look at how much effort you put in to the food for tonight when you didn’t have to even bring anything at all.  I’m so lucky.  Why would I ever want anyone else?”

“Oh Din,” you whisper, marveling at Din’s talent for saying all the perfect things; you had wound yourself up inexplicably tight, but he knew exactly how to calm you and pull you out of your dark place, “How do you always know what I need to hear to feel better?”

“It’s actually very easy, sweetheart.  All I need to do is tell you the truth,” murmurs Din, as he starts to deepen the kisses, “Actually, scratch that.  I lied a bit, I’m just obsessed with this mouth, period.  Love kissing this mouth.  Love when this mouth opens up for me.  How it feels pressed on my skin.  The way it takes my cock…”

“Oh fuck, Din-“

“…but the thing I love the most about this mouth is the sounds it makes when you come,” Din buries his face into your neck, nipping at your sensitive spots as you cross your ankles behind his back and pull him closer.

A round of raucous laughter from the poker table pulls you out of your arousal laden haze and away from Din, both of you panting lightly.  Looking in Din’s eyes and finding nothing but sincerity, you feel comfortable enough to broach the last of your overblown concerns, “Din, if you were seeing other people though, I couldn’t be mad, I guess.  It’s not like we’ve had any talks about exclusivity.”

At first, Din isn’t sure if you’re being serious, the idea so absurd to him.  But when he sees you start to chew your bottom lip nervously, he placates you, “Oh, pretty bird, I didn’t think we needed to have a talk about it.  I’ve been exclusively yours since I met you in the coffeeshop.  I was yours and only yours before I even knew your name, before I knew if I would ever see you again,” Din leans his forehead against yours and you can barely breathe from his romantic words.

When you sigh, relaxed, Din grins, “Feeling better, sweetheart?”  Looking up at him, your eyes bright, you smile and nod happily.  As he helps you hop down from the counter, you cheekily ask, “Don’t you want to ask if I’m seeing anyone else?”

Din stills, hands frozen where they were holding your waist not a moment ago, “Are you?”

Now you can’t help but be mischievous, “And if I were?”

Eyes darkening, Din reaches for you, “Baby, I-”

At that moment, your phone buzzes and you’re saved, “Oh!  Bea and Rory are downstairs!  I’m going to let them in!”  You grab a plate of garlic knots and practically flounce out of the kitchen, depositing the plate at the poker table before exiting the apartment.  You’re about halfway down the stairs when you hear the outside door being buzzed open, and see the smiling faces of your friends along with a the attractive face of a dark haired man you don’t recognize.

The man is chatting animatedly with Bea, his smile lighting up his whole face.  He is quite handsome, you admit – soft longish curls frame his face and he’s mainly clean cut with just a hint of a shadow, giving you a clear view of his chiseled jaw.  His lightly hooded eyes are bright and full of mirth, and his expression is currently so energetic he has a charming, almost boyish look about him. 

You wait for the trio on the second-floor landing; Rory spots you first (“Babe!!”) and rushes up the last few steps before enveloping you in a big hug, the bags in her hands full of clinking wine bottles.  You giggle and give her a big kiss on the cheek, “Is this overkill?” as you peek in her bags and find 7 bottles (2 Cabernet Sauvignons, 2 Sauvignon Blancs, 2 Beaujolais [that’s for you], and one bottle of Rosé).

Rory shrugs, “Didn’t know what everyone would like?”

“That’s why I brought tequila!  Everyone hates tequila!” quips the stranger, beaming widely.

“…and tequila hates everyone,” you smile and introduce yourself while pulling Bea in for a hug.

“Poe!  Poe Dameron!  You must be Din’s girl.  Must say, I can see what the fuss is all about,” he winks, “Guess it’s true what they say, beautiful girls only hang out with other beautiful girls.”

You’re so confused.  The line is so cheesy.  And you know about his flirting from the Mandos… but you’re not creeped out?  Apparently you and your friends are not immune to Poe’s famous charm and earnest brown eyes and you suddenly understand what Din meant when he said you just can’t be mad at Poe.

“Dameron!” comes a shout at the top of the stairs; it’s Paz, with a look of impatience on his face. Unless you’re Paz, you chuckle to yourself.

“Sorry, Heavy P! Got distracted, I mean, even you can’t blame me,” Poe flashes his winning smile again before angling out his elbows and offering up his arms for any willing woman to take.  Letting your friends have at it, you walk ahead and mouth to Paz as you get to the top, “Omigod.  Heavy P?!?”

Paz rolls his eyes and shakes his head (“Lil’ Lady, don’t.”) before muttering, “I swear to god,” and holding out his hands to take the wine from Rory and the bags of food from Bea (which you now realize that Poe notably did not offer to help carry).

You enter the apartment as a comical looking group: Paz laden down with bags that he carries directly to the kitchen (scowling), you looking amused (eyes wide with a kind of astonishment at the scene that just played out), then Poe bringing up the rear, making a grand entrance with a beautiful woman on each arm, grandstanding like a debutant making her entrance at the cotillion.  Al makes a beeline for Rory and Bea when he spots them, and they readily abandon Poe to greet the pup; you have to stifle a snicker when you see Poe’s look of disappointment at having been upstaged by a dog.

“Told you he’s a lot,” a voice whispers in your ear; you turn to find Din grinning at you.  He gives you a little kiss on top of your head before going to greet and welcome your friends.  Introductions are made and everyone gathers around the card table so that those who are playing can play, and everyone can chat, drink and eat.  The Mandos are incredibly hospitable and warm towards your friends; you don’t know if it’s out of kindness to you and Din or just because they really are a friendly bunch, but it fills you with joy to see your friends so well taken care of.  To no one’s surprise (not even Bea or Rory’s), Poe insists on pouring everyone a shot of the tequila he brought and plays deaf to people’s protests.  Rory downs hers without complaint before going back to her cards; you wrinkle your nose in disgust at your shot and when Poe isn’t looking, Din drinks yours, and you see Mayfeld nonchalantly do the same for Bea.  Poe just goes about his business, pouring himself more shots and chaotically raising bets while telling wild story after story about the people in the room (usually targeting the last person who called his hand).  He’s entertaining for sure, and he's seems less interested in winning at poker than he is getting everyone to have a good time.  It’s working.  Poe’s energy is infectious and the tequila is effective - the party gets livelier and livelier as the evening goes on. 

At a certain point, Woves and Paz nearly get into it after Poe (deliberately?) exposes his hand and everyone decides it’s a good time for a break so people can stretch and get more food.  You and Bea flop down on the couch with your wine, and a few people, including Poe, come over to join you, “So, when are you going to come and meet my dad?”

“Why would she meet your dad?” Bea asks curiously.

You look at Poe, your eyes widening just a little, mouth open to interject but having no response ready.  Without missing a beat, Poe says smoothly, “Oh, my dad and Din’s dad were best friends.  Din’s basically family.  My father’s favourite son.”

Bea laughs and you shoot Poe a grateful look, which he acknowledges only with the quickest of winks.  Din comes over, catching the tail end of this exchange; he claps Poe on the back appreciatively before sitting down and throwing his arm around you, “I think I’m done for the night, pretty bird.  Don’t have any more money for Rory to take.”

“Told you she’d clean you all out,” you giggle.

“I think both Bo and Paz are in love with her, too.  I’m not getting in the middle of that, so I’m just going to hang out here with you for the rest of the night, if you don’t mind.”

You shake your head, “Of course not, but are you sure?  I don’t want your friends to think that when I’m around, your attention is divided.”

“Oh, it’s not divided, sweetheart.” Smooth talker.  But you can’t help but feel flushed at Din’s words.

“Ok, ew.  Yeah, Dad is going to love you.  He’s been wanting Din to settle down for forever and he deep down he loves this gooey stuff,” bemoans Poe, and the group cracks up.

When the card game looks like it’s going to start up again, Bea yawns a bit and announces she’s going to go hover over Rory to gently encourage her to cash out her winnings so they can head out soon.  This reminds you that you have something for her, and you excuse yourself saying you’ll be right back.

When you emerge from the bedroom with the book you brought for Bea, you run into Din in the hallway; he’s leaning up against the wall, as if waiting for you.

“Hey you,” your smile easy and wide, reflective of how content you are with how this evening has gone.

Din moves towards you and using only his size advantage, crowds you against the wall he was just leaning against, then braces his forearm above you and peers down at you, “Hey pretty bird.”

You can’t help but let out a school girl giggle at this move.

Still holding your gaze, Din says in a low voice, “Don’t think I forgot what we were talking about in the kitchen before.”

Oh. So that’s what this little display is about; you’ve had a little time to think about it and you smile sheepishly, “Oh Din, I have to apologize for that.  Like, the image of you kissing someone else only flashed across my mind for a second and it upset me so much!  I shouldn’t have teased you with the same thing.  I’m sorry.”  You look up at Din with your most innocent, forgive-me eyes.

Din softens internally; he had been prepared to tease you mercilessly, but now looking down at you and feeling a little bad that you had been upset earlier, he’s tempted to let you off the hook.  Maybe.  

“Pretty bird, I’m sorry you had even a moment’s doubt and that it upset you; in case it’s not clear, I’m yours and yours only.  There isn’t anyone else, baby.  Couldn’t be anyone else.”

You melt under Din’s words and you want to make sure he knows how you feel too, “I feel the same way.  You’re so sweet, and kind, and caring, I can’t believe you’re real sometimes.  You make me so happy.  There’s no one else for me but you, Din.”

“But,” Din leans in to whisper darkly in your ear, “if you were seeing other people…”

You gasp a little at the low edge to his voice. “…I would want to know who they were.”  Din places a light kiss on your jaw before pulling back to move to the other side of your face and when he does, the expression you see on his face makes you shiver.  “I’d want to make sure they were treating you right.”  Another light kiss on your jaw.  Switching back again to the other side to nuzzle just below your ear, he continues in his deep, sultry drawl, “But when it’s my time with you… I’d remind you of who you really belong to.”

Afraid of letting out a whimper, you bite down on your lower lip, eyes open wide while you take in Din’s words.  “The things I would do to you would make you scream out my name until you couldn't speak, until you forget every other name but mine.  And when I’m done, there wouldn’t be any doubt in that pretty head of yours that you belong to me, sweetheart.”

This time you do whimper out loud and you’re sure everyone on the other side of the wall can hear; at this, Din dips to kiss his way to your other ear and growls, “Mine.”  You feel your panties dampen at his possessive words, the low timber of his voice making your knees buckle; Din catches you by wedging his thigh between your legs and you curl your arms under his to steady yourself.  “Yours,” you whisper, “all yours, daddy.”

Din’s mouth is on yours in a flash, tongue gaining quick entrance as your soft moans escape without your permission.  He drinks you in like a man parched, chasing your taste, unable to get enough.  You match the pressing brush of his lips and the movement of his tongue, stroke for stroke; his possessive manner and almost jealous sounding tone unlocking a deep desire within you.  It’s the same part of you that loves to be marked by his mouth, his hands, his cum; that part of your being that wants Din to claim you.  You’re getting all the way lost in Din and the way he surrounds you when you drop the book you’re still holding for Bea and it makes a loud thud that silences the chattering voices on the other side of the wall. 

“Hey, lovebirds!  We can fucking hear you!” booms Paz.

“Looks like I’m not the horniest one for once!”

“Shut up, Dameron!” Din yells, but with a grin only for you, “Yeah, I’m kicking them all out now, pretty bird.”

Chuckling, you give Din a sweet kiss before picking up the book that gave you both away, “Don’t do that.  We need to give Rory time to take all of Poe’s money.”  Winking, you turn to blow Din a kiss before rounding the corner to a chorus of hoots and hollers.

---

Poker night has been so much fun, you’re almost sad it’s over.  Everyone ate and loved the food you and the girls brought over; Mayfeld quietly apologizes for eating over 70% of the garlic knots and on behalf of everyone else who plan to politely demand that you supply the food for all future poker games.  To no one’s surprise, Rory leaves the poker game the big winner, having taken nearly everyone’s money and also the hearts of both Paz and Bo.  Jimmy and Brian encourage you to invite your friends to the next big fight, making sure to do so in Bea’s earshot.  Woves and Koska, both wine drunk, fight over who gets to take Al out for his nighttime walk; a fight they both lose when Din steps in and declares clearly that Al’s late-night walks are spoken for.  Poe, to (poorly) quote Pride and Prejudice, simpered and smirked all evening and made love to them all – you concede that the Mandos were right, he really is the life of the party. 

After everyone leaves and you put your girls in a cab, you and Din set out on your nightly walk with Al.  As you stroll through the neighbourhood, still bustling despite the late hour, you feel Din pull you closer into his side and you respond by hugging his waist and looking up adoringly at him, “I think Al had such a good time tonight, Din.  Thank you for letting me bring him.”

“Of course.  Al’s my boy.  What about you, pretty bird?  Did you have a good time?”

You nod truthfully, “I really did.  I think everyone had such a good time and your friends were so, so nice to my friends.”

“Even Poe?”

“Especially Poe.”  You both chuckle and continue the walk in comfortable silence for a bit.  Deep in thought about the serious discussion the two of you had in the midst of all the fun tonight, Din wants to make sure you’re feeling okay, “How are you feeling about what we talked about?  I know some of the stuff with Poe made you a bit uneasy.”

“Mmmhmm, I went to a bad head space for a bit, but you pulled me out.  Thank you, Din,” you say, lightheartedly, your easy tone suggestive of having moved past it.

“I’m always here for you, pretty bird.”

“And I’m more than okay with what we talked about,” you add; it’s an innocent enough response, but now you’re thinking about how hot your conversation in the hallway was.  Recalling Din’s dark expression as he talked about making you his has you squirming and you feel the warmth of your arousal start to seep through your panties.  When you finally make it to the sidewalk outside of the gym, you decide to broach the topic again.

“Din?”

“Yes, baby?”

You consider how to ask for what you want, “When we get home, do you think you can.. I want you to… do what you said in the hallway?”

Din tilts his head slightly to convey he’s not sure what you mean.

Suddenly shy, the words spill out in a hurry, “I want you act like I’m seeing other people, and then I want you to fuck me hard until I forget that anyone exists but you.”

Realization hits Din like a freight train and he’s overcome by his need to have you right now, “Is that what you want, pretty bird?  You want me to make you scream my name so many times you don’t need to know any one else’s?”

You nod, biting your bottom lip, “Fuck me and claim me, daddy.”

“Holy fu-, I can do that.  But tonight, I’m not your daddy.  You only call me by my name.  Got it, pretty bird?”

Wordlessly, you nod again.

“Good girl.  Now get upstairs.”

Go to: Ch. 11 Addendum - After The Poker Game

[connorsnothereeither]

I dont know if youve talked about this before, but if not, how did you come up with some of your characters' names?

I’ve talked about it before for Ulysses here in this post but not some of the others!! But I would love to I shake their names about!!

Virgil Coronis (Sky Bound SMP)

So Virgil went through a lot of potential names. He was built up vibes-first in development, so I had my gothic, conspiracy librarian, and no names. I wanted something that sounded more sharp, and angular. Crow-like.

I went for some classic gothic literature names to start. Jonathan (for Jonathan Harker from Dracula), Percival/Percy (for Percy Shelly), and Auguste (from Poe’s The Murders in the Rue Morgue), along with some others were all potential candidates. By then, however, @jamphibiann had already chosen Pietro, and so I looked for some other Italian names to match since we were playing brothers. Romeo, and Salvatore were somewhat higher contenders then!

Landing on Virgil was actually sort of stolen from @venear-tmblr . When throwing around potential names, one of the ones that didn’t make the cut for him was Dante. And while Dante didn’t quite fit the character I had in my mind, Virgil definitely did! It had Latin/Italian roots, and felt angular and distinctly raven-like to me! :D

“Coronis” as a last name is actually an ancient Greek word, which is both referring to the curved flourish in old handwriting, and is same root word (corone) for the Greek for crows or ravens, referring the curvature of their beaks! So it felt very fitting too.

Leopold Haust (Terramortis)

Leopold was honestly… kind of a silly one. He never had any alternate names. I knew he was going to be from the 1920s, so I wanted a vaguely old-timey name, which fit the vibe, but could still be shortened into something more modern and easy to quickly say. And, at the time, I was reading Ulysses by James Joyce as a joke… and “Leopold” is the name of the Odysseus/Ulysses counterpart in that novel. So it just sort of… ticked all the boxes lol. It wasn’t supposed to be connected to Ulysses at all, but it jumped out at me as a perfect name for the character I had created. Haust was just a made up name that sounded like it matched well when spoken allowed!

D’Hakth’rkael “Daniel Thorns” Thoricht (Cantripped)

So Dan was… interesting name wise. I had the “bit” in mind long before I came up with the name. I was somewhat inspired by a lot of people I know or grew up knowing, who would have long, intricate names, and would shorten it to just like,,, “Mike”. But mostly I was inspired from the “folk hero” angle of how through Christianisation and colonisation, Celtic mythology names were super worn down into common, short Anglican names. Things like “Cú Cuhlainn”/“Conochubar” or “Fionn mac Cumhail” being worn down to names like Connor or Finn. I also just love when folklore figures have what feel like really mundane names, with a descriptor or trait. “Robin Hood”, “Jack Frost”, etc. it’s very English folktale to me.

For a while I wanted to play with “Tom” of “Jack” but for whatever reason “Dan” just stood out to me as a very mundane feeling name (and to be fair, Dan does go by Jack sometimes… in some places… just nowhere we’ve been yet…). So Dan Thorns came first, and I worked backwards from there.

From “Daniel Thorns” it was basically just a process of mashing fantasy sounds together until they sounded like a name. Thoricht felt like a believable evolution of “Thorns”, and could still pass as a human name. “D’Hakth” came next; I liked the juxtaposition of sounds, and the ways you could linguistically interpret it, taking it in a D, H, Y, or even J direction. The final part, “rkael” was mostly just for flavour. I started looking into vengeance Paladin, “avenging angel” imagery for Dan for a while, felt biblical, and I really liked the vaguely biblical feel it brought to the name, while adding another layer of “oh that’s why he just goes by Dan” akgakag

[wordstreamer]

Seems like everyone needs money these days, and I know I don’t have a lot of followers, but if anyone who sees this can boost or donate something to my KoFi or to a GoFundMe we set up, it would be much appreciated.

Our eldest cat, Diva, had to have multiple emergency blood transfusions, setting us back over $8k in money that we do not have; all three of our cats have medical needs that total about $338/month, on top of their regular care.

(Obligatory pics of our beautiful girl, her baby brothers, Poe and Silver, and said beautiful girl again.)

So, while I don’t love asking this, anything would help.

Edited to add: 7/5 and Diva's tentatively doing better. She's home, her appetite is coming back, and she's getting back to her normal levels of chattiness and energy. We've still got work to do, but things are looking up.

Additional updates under the Read More.

Diva on the bed for the first time in almost a week. (A tabby cat is curled up on a purple pillow, paws tucked in.)

Diva on the bed for the first time in almost a week. (A tabby cat is curled up on a purple pillow, paws tucked in.)

7/17 and probably (hopefully!) the last update for the foreseeable future. Diva had a follow-up appointment today and we confirmed that her red blood cell levels are well within where they should be. She is back to her normal levels of energy, and she is eating and drinking pretty normally, with fairly normal litterbox activities.

I also got a new job - it pays a little less than what I was making, which is a problem, but it will help.

We really appreciate everyone who has spread the word and helped us out! <3 Thank you so, so much.

7/24: One more update, since it’s somewhat relevant: I heard from my former manager, and will probably be getting brought back onto a different team. Diva just jumped around the bedroom and is staring at me judgmentally, which is perfectly reasonable, and her baby brothers are resting peacefully. One of the car problems has been fixed by my father-in-law, and we’re looking into the others. I’ve removed the mention of getting laid off and having car issues from the main post, because while it was true, hopefully, that’s going to be less of a concern. (Trying to tackle an additional hefty vet bill is still a problem, but at least some things are back under control.) For now, things are looking up. Hopefully that’ll continue.

12/23: Edited the main part of the post, because so far, Diva is continuing to improve, and I think it's safe to say that she's "out of the woods." I don't want anyone who looks at my profile/sees this post to think that she is doing worse than she currently is.

We've had to make some changes to her diet and add a monthly Solensia shot to her schedule, but those are things that may have been on the horizon, anyway. We still have no idea what caused the scare back in July, but we haven't had any recurrences yet, and while we're still paying off her vet bill, we have been able to make the monthly payments without issue at this time.

We had a massive scare a few days after I originally made this post - we were absolutely convinced that that was it, that we were saying goodbye. She'd improved after we got her home, but then massively declined; in hindsight, it was most likely a swell of adrenaline/relief/not being at the vet anymore, followed by her needing to rest up after that sudden expenditure of energy. But at the time, it definitely looked like a relapse, and we had already decided--after talking to our vet--that we would not put her through another transfusion so quickly.

She was fine. Her red blood cell count was still rising, and she was livelier than they'd seen her at the emergency vet. So even if things take a bad turn, we've gotten another 5 good months with her and counting. I'm hoping she makes it to 18. I'm hoping she makes it to 20. I'm hoping she makes it beyond. I am so, so glad to have at least had another 5 months with her, and that we were not trapped in a situation where we had to live with the knowledge that while there were avenues we could pursue, we could not afford to save her.

[helianoemeria]

hi, love your brocedes content, do you have any fic recs ? i think i've just about read every single brocedes fic to ever exist but i need more

aww tysm!! i absolutely love finding new brocedes fics there are a surprisingly little amount! like they tend to be tagged but in the background of other pairings

one of my absolute favs that is SO UNDERRATED is truth comes out a little at a time by thepugilist. i know the tags say crack but its pretty angsty! they are so toxic lovehate in this one aghhhh they make me insane

you're my purple candy high 🔒 by nothoughtsjustvibes (Kitkatieb) is so lovely too! it unfolds in a non-linear narrative, jumping from post-abu dhabi '21 and their younger days. i absolutely love this fic i hd to go chew on glass for a bit

i think everyone has read this one but champagne problems is always a good read! laura's mind... oh mygod. in case you're unfamiliar it's an au in which nico becomes the team principal for merc in '25!

want you to be my girl by @sionisjaune is like if edar allan poe wrote girlcedes porn. to me. dykwim. like yes this is porn but also one of the most emotional nauseating incredible fics i hve ever read. gut wrenching

and it feels good (to be known so well) 🔒 by gokartkid (hamletkin) is SUCH a cathartic one. lewis loses his keys and goes to ask nico for help. not enough fics take advantage of the fact that they live in the same BUILDING its insane i love this one sm. highly recommend checking out their other fics!!!

and of course the absolute CLASSIC constellation falling into place the og brocedes fic!!

if you can check out these authors other works too!! these fics are so good i feel like i have to reread them at least once a month

[fr34kbeeft4ngo]

Could you draw my oc x canon ship of Melo (my oc) and Beebs from Monkey wrench holding hands? beebs is 8'11 so he's definitely bigger than melo.

(Also what do you like to watch/read?)

I really like reading long chapter books, especially about mystery, drama, or just poems.

My favorite books come from Edgar Allan Poe, may not be as long but I really like his work.

Otherwise, I really love watching episodes of GREGORY HORROR SHOW and gameplay of GHS soul collectors, sometimes I binge watch my favorite childhood shows while I'm at it.

Thank you brave warrior!!!1!1!!

(I also forgot to clarify in my more recent post that this kinda was more around OCs and fandoms, not OC x CANON, as it fells odd and uncomfortable for me when it's coming from a person I don't know, and mostly on the internet, I am not saying I’m against it, it’s actually pretty wholesome and cool with some of the ships these people make with these characters as long as it isn’t weird.I'm sorry for the misunderstanding, I’ll make sure to mention in any further posts!!!💧💧

(I am also unaware is this is the correct way to respond to this SO IM SORRY IF I SOUND MEAN AAAG dies)

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

What’s your writing process/tips? All the work you put out is so well written and funny and descriptive and your wordplay and vocabulary is god tier like hello??? Your whole master list is full of rereads and certified bangers

THIS ASK CAUGHT ME WITH MY PANTS DOWN, I WASN’T PREPARED FOR THIS.

Oh my god, first of all, this actually means a lot to me. I’m genuinely at a loss for words. Thank you so much. As someone who only writes for fun, this is so unnecessary. Y’ALL ARE GONNA MAKE ME CRY, STOP.

Second of all… I’ll try to offer genuinely helpful information, but I suck actual dogshit at that, LMAO. I’m usually the prime example of what not to do. Keep that in mind.

(Putting a read more here cuz I didn’t realize how long this got. Whoops.)

My writing process is basically just chaos. Work on what I want to work on if I have the motivation for it. That unfortunately means I sometimes don’t post something for months, but y’all already know that, so… yeah. Do what you actually want to do. If an idea isn’t sparking any creativity in you, don’t pursue it. It’s better to cultivate a story you’re really into than one you’re halfassing. And if you lose interest? To the draft of shame pile it goes. You can save it for when you’re thinking about it again, or if you think certain aspects of that idea are good for a totally new idea. No shame in recycling.

As for wordplay and vocabulary, I think that comes from a love of literature and grammar in itself. I was always kind of an English nerd growing up. Maybe that shows in my writing? Except for the fact that I barely ever proofread (WHICH IS SO BAD BECAUSE I’M DYSLEXIC, HELP). But, yeah. I read all of the classics, from Greek literature to the modern era. Learning how other writers structure their works is really interesting. It’s good to do with your favorite fanfic writers, too. Pick apart what makes certain pieces so compelling.

Maybe knowing your genre helps. I like horror and grotesque shit a lot, and I really hope that shows through my writing. If you spend a lot of time analyzing the genre you like, it might help with the creative juices? Though be careful if you’re like me and enjoy spooky stuff, cuz I’ve literally lost sleep over it, LMAO. Certain stories just inspire me to write for certain characters.

I think poetry and lyricism also helped? I’m a big fan of Edgar Alan Poe and old school hip-hop, so studying that could help you with the flow and intrigue of your writing. I don’t know. Just trying to throw whatever out there.

Overall, more people should recognize that writing is an art. There’s not really a formula you can follow, despite what those argumentative high school essays taught us. There are rules and certain structures, but those fall flat when there’s no creativity behind it. Learn how the rules can help or hinder your writing, you know? Does that make sense? I don’t know. RIP.

Also… thesaurus. Learning synonyms is your best friend.

Sorry if none of this is helpful. I’m just all over the place when it comes to this type of shit. I genuinely wish I could give better advice, but I am… just so inept at that. SOBS.

But… yeah!! Thank you so much for enjoying my writing. Again, I really don’t think it’s worthy of all that, because 3/4ths of it is just me yapping about fucked up little guys. I really wish I was more disciplined in my work ethic so that I could get fully-written stories out there, but… you know. Motivation comes when motivation comes.

[grungelvrr222]

what i think the dps boys each read at the meetings

okay so the poems i picked i wrote the whole poem so its a longggg post (i worked really hard to find a poem i thought suited each of the poets)

neil: When I read the book by Walt Whitman

When I read the book, the biography famous,

And is this then (said I) what the author calls a man’s life?

And so will some one when I am dead and gone write my life?

(As is if any man really knew aught of my life,

Why even I myself I often think know little or nothing of my real life,

Only a few hints, a few diffused faint clews and indirections

I seek for my own use to trace out here.)

todd: A dream by Edgar Allan Poe

In visions of the dark night

I have dreamed of joy departed—

But a waking dream of life and light

Hath left me broken-hearted.

Ah! what is not a dream by day

To him whose eyes are cast

On things around him with a ray of

Turned back upon the past?

That holy dream— that holy dream,

While all the world were chiding,

Hath cheered me a lovely beam

A lonely spirit guiding.

What thought that light, thro’ storm and night,

So trembled from afar—

What could there be more purely bright

In Truth’s day-star?

pitts: The last word by Matthew Arnold

Creep into they narrow bed,

Creep, and let no more be said!

Vain thy onset! all stands;

Thou thyself must break at last.

Let the long conversation cease!

Geese are swans and swans are geese.

Let them have it how they will!

Thou art tired; best be still!

They put-talk’d thee, hiss’d thee, tore thee.

Better men fared thus before thee;

Fired their ringing shot and pass’d ,

Hotly charged— and broke at last.

Charge once more , then, and be dumb!

Let the victors, when they come,

When the forts of folly fall,

Find thy body by the wall.

knox: An explanation by Walter Learned 

Her lips wear so near     That what—else could I do?  You’ll be angry, I fear, But her lips were so near— Well, I can’t make it clear,      Or explain it to you,  But—her lips were so near       That—what else could I do?  charlie: I am he that aches with love by Walt Whitman 

I am he that aches with amorous love; Does the earth gravitate? does not all matter, aching, attract             all matter? So the body of me to all I meet or know. 

meeks: How pleasant to know Mr.Lear by Edward Lear 

“How pleasant to know Mr.Lear!”      Who has written such volumes of stuff! Some think him ill-tempered and queer,       But a few think him pleasant enough. 

His mind is concrete and fastidious,      His nose is remarkably big; His visage is more or less hideous,      His beard it resembles a wig.

He has ears, and two eyes, and ten fingers,           Leastways if you reckon two thumbs; Long ago he was one of the singers,       But now he is one of the dumbs.

He sits in a beautiful parlor,       With hundreds of books on the wall; He drinks a great deal of Marsala,       But never gets tipsy at all.

He has many friends, lay men and clerical,               Old Foss is the name of his cat; His body is perfectly spherical,    He weareth a runcible hat.

When he walks in waterproof white,      The children run after him so! Calling out, "He's come out in his night-              Gown, that crazy old Englishman, oh!"

He weeps by the side of the ocean,      He weeps on the top of the hill; He purchases pancakes and lotion,      And chocolate shrimps from the mill.

He reads, but he cannot speak, Spanish,     He cannot abide ginger beer: Ere the days of his pilgrimage vanish,      How pleasant to know Mr. Lear! cameron: I used to think by Trumbull Stickney

I used to think The mind essential in the body, even As stood the body essential in the mind: Two inseparable things, by nature equal And similar, and in creation’s song Halving the total scale: it is not so. Unlike and cross like driftwood sticks they come Churned in the giddy trough: a chunk of pine, A slab of rosewood: mangled each on each With knocks and friction, or in deadly pain Sheathing each other’s splinters: till at last Without all stuff or shape they ’re jetted up Where in the bluish moisture rot whate’er Was vomited in horror from the sea.