#and i know absolutely i got that part from poe

[mejomonster]

If our writing is to a degree the influence of what we have read, I'd like to know particularly what fucking authors I read that rubbed off on me that I write the particular way I do.

I Know to a degree Edgar Allen Poe has got to be why I do the particular emotional descriptions and specifically poetically rhythmic sentence choices. He did this thing of sentences breaking in places to feel like poetry almost, and I definitely picked that up at age 12 and never stopped.

But I also got into this specific habit of going not just biased pov third person (which plenty of authors I most enjoy tend to do), but also this sort of very thought-heavy biased pov where I don't tell the reader all thoughts but what I write is a hint to what's not said, and i write emotionality of the pov (again a lot like poe I know I picked up some word choice and sentence style from him) but it doesn't say it all it sort of makes a shape. I cannot figure out what writers I picked it up from. Maybe some fanfic writers I liked? I know at some point mid college, I swung from writing Really Minimalistic to enjoying going in DEEP into each scene to enjoy and savor it. And that's when those sections went from same style but curt, to very in depth and scenes got 5 pages long when they used to be 1 page. But I can't think at the moment of who writes like that.

Also, the emotional biased unreliable way I do description is something I can see I was doing all through High school, very early, so I picked that up from something I read probably soon after poe. Really early on.

[thebirdandhersong]

Just started TLJ for fun because it was a Long Day and I wanted some form of distraction that didn't involve the current Ghost Crew kinda high stakes episode I was halfway through and I must say..... this is so strange to me

[oikasugayama]

YOU CATCH HIM M@STURBAT!NG

NSFW, for adults ONLY, MDNI or I'll block you. No idea how many parts this will be. Let me know which BSD men you want to see ;)

pt. 1 Fyodor, Poe, Chuuya | pt. 2 Fukuzawa, Kunikida, Dazai | pt. 3 Ranpo, Akutagawa, Ango | pt. 4 Sigma, Mori, Tetcho | pt. 5 (finale) Atsushi, Nikolai

Fyodor

Walking in on him touching himself is REALLY surprising because he doesn't seem the type to masturbate, in your mind. You straight up couldn't imagine him touching himself until the very second you walked into his office and saw his bottoms around his ankles, his top hiked up around his chest, and his hand furiously pumping over his pale dick.

His head is thrown back, eyes closed, mouth lazily hanging open. You've never seen so much skin on him before. He's PALE pale which makes the brightness of his mouth and tongue and the tip of his cock seem so much brighter.

"oh love, yes, yesss" he moans, and your whole body flushes red with embarrassment and arousal at the same time. You shouldn't be seeing this but you're having a hell of a time turning away from him. You need to leave the room. You need to go. You need to turn around.

"y/n," he purrs, tilting his head and opening his eyes half-way, looking so fucked out and erotic. "do you like what you see?"

You can't formulate an answer, you're standing in the doorway short circuiting, trying to make words but only noises come out

"since you're standing there I thought you might be interested," he says as slow and calm as ever. Even jerking himself off his voice doesn't hitch or raise or speed up and it's honestly really hot right now. "Care to join me?"

"i-i, um... I'm really s-sorry, f...fyodor."

He moans softly biting his lip while still staring straight at you.

"say it again," he purrs. "say my name."

"fyodor..."

"again," he moans, hand working faster.

"Fyodor."

you walk in and close the door behind you.

Poe

You two scheduled a hang-out at his place but despite how many times you knocked on the door, he wouldn't answer...so you try the doorknob, and hey, it's unlocked! You've been to his place many times, you don't mind letting yourself in and don't suspect he'll mind either.

After you put your stuff down and take off your shoes, you register a quiet noise coming from a different room. you sneak closer and realize two things: it's crying, and it's coming from poe's bedroom

you open the door and rush in without thinking. "poe! what's wrong, why are you-- OH FUCK"

you rushed right into him kneeling at the edge of his bed, bouncing on a dildo and not crying, whimpering, moaning.

he calls your name and you can't tell if he meant to moan it but he absolutely moans it and he sounds like a wreck and he looks pathetic and fucked out, and you feel it when he says your name.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have been this, I'm gonna go home--" you say, turning and rushing out of his room. he calls your name after you, multiple times, moaning and moaning and moaning--

you sink down against his front door, still slightly able to hear the sounds of him moaning and whining from his room. you're so horny now, absolutely drenched through your panties/rock hard in your pants. You know you should leave, you know you shouldn't still be here, but he never told you to go, he just kept saying your name...

a few minutes later, after the noises have subsided and the apartment has gotten deadly quiet, his bedroom door creaks open and he slowly peeks his head out. he must be crawling still because he's near the floor.

"[y/n]," he sighs, "I didn't want you to find out like this."

it takes you a second to collect yourself, but you manage to ask "find what out?"

"that i... i think about you... a lot..."

Chuuya

you're on a PM mission with chuuya and several other PM members. you've got to share a room with chuuya, but at least you have separate beds. it's fine. it's whatever. until.

until you wake up one morning--the clock on the bedside table saying it's only 6:23 a.m.--to the sound of a rhythmic slapping, some occasional huffs, a-- a moan?

you sit upright in bed quickly, your head turning toward chuuya's bed.

"are you fucking serious?"

"what" he huffs, and through the tiny bit of daylight creeping through the curtains you can see movement beneath his sheets.

"are you jerking off right now? dude we're sharing a fucking room."

"you were asleep," he says defensively. "not like you noticed yesterday."

"dude!!!"

"get over it, it's fuckin' natural," he says and his voice is getting tight and higher almost like he's biting back a moan or getting close to cumming.

"it's disrespectful when you have someone in the same room, chuuya," you say softer, subconsciously still trying to hear the sounds he's making. you're embarrassed at how intrigued you are

"i'm not stopping you," he says. "you can jerk it too for all i care."

"to what... to you jerking it?"

you can almost hear the smirk in his voice when he says "I never said anything about that, so you thought that up all on your own. is that what you're into, pet?"

[campingwiththecharmings]

hellooooo!! congrats on the one year anniversary<3<3

could I request “how mad would you be if i kissed you?” with poe?

(thank you for doing this event!!!!)

All Your Fault

AN: OMG IT'S A FIC-AVERSAY REQUEST!! lol Told y'all I was still gonna answer all of these! That said, I'm betting you probably don't even remember sending this lmao but I hope you can still enjoy it all the same though. Thanks for your patience 💖

(Un-beta’d)

Rated: T Words: 1,068 Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader (written with f!reader in mind but I'm pretty sure this could be read as GN. please correct me if that's wrong) Warnings: kissing, arguing...nothing else I can think of (please let me know if I missed something) AO3

——————

Commander Poe Dameron is, quite literally, the bane of your existence.  

Sure, he’s a great pilot and, okay fine, he’s not a terrible leader but, damn it if the bastard doesn’t drive you absolutely crazy with his needlessly risky plans. You’re not sure if he has a death wish or if he’s just an adrenaline junky, but what you do know is that if the storm troopers chasing you don’t kill him, you just might. 

You run down the narrow hallway of the First Order compound you’ve infiltrated, Dameron in tow, desperately searching for an escape. You spot a door, thank the Maker when it’s unlocked, and pull Dameron inside with you by the lapels of his jacket, glaring at him when he opens his mouth to complain. 

“Shut up,” you whisper harshly, pushing him against the back of the door. 

He watches you in the dim light for a moment, lips parted, breath leaving him in pants. Your eyes drop to his mouth, lingering longer than you’d like, and you wonder briefly if they’re as soft as they look, how they’d feel against yours, how they’d taste— 

Okay fine, so you’re a little attracted to him. That didn’t mean he didn’t still infuriate the hell out of you. 

The thundering of boots crescendos outside the door, (blessedly) breaking you from your staring contest with his mouth. Still pressed against Poe, you swallow thickly, your face warm as you forcibly avert your gaze. Your eyes land on his neck, and you have to ignore the sudden urge you feel to lick the bead of sweat running slowly down the side of it. 

You’re both still as the troopers pass, as if making even the tiniest movement might alert them to your presence. Poe is still breathing a little heavy, the air puffing against your cheek just another reminder of his closeness. You try to ignore it, ignore him, ignore how good his body feels against yours, how amazing he smells. In an effort to stave off the sudden urge you have to bury your face in his neck and breathe deep, you think of literally anything else: your bunkmate’s dirty socks, General Leia screaming at you, taking a blaster bolt to the shoulder— 

The sound of the troopers fades slowly and you breathe a quiet sigh of relief, backing up as much as you can in the small space.  

“That was a close one, huh?” Poe mutters, looking at you warily, as if you might attack him at any given moment. 

Your anger at him rekindles in your chest at the comment and you can’t stop yourself from punching him in the shoulder. He grunts, glaring at you half-heartedly as he rubs the spot where you hit him. 

“No, Dameron, that was stupid. Completely and utterly stupid,” you quietly scold, pointing at him in accusation. 

He scoffs, almost rolling his eyes and it sends another flare of anger through you.  

“Oh, you don’t think so?” you counter, stepping closer to him. “You think your little stunt helped us?” 

He glares at you, leaning back against the door with an annoyed look on his face. “We got what we came for, didn’t we?” 

“Yes, and we’d be out of here and on the ship right now if you’d just followed the plan.” 

“You mean followed your plan,” he mumbles almost petulantly. 

“Is that what this is about?” you ask, chuckling humorlessly as you take another step closer. “Still sore that the General went with my plan instead of yours, flyboy?” 

His jaw tightens and he moves even closer, his voice so low it’s almost a growl. “Your plan is the reason I even had to pull that ‘stunt’ in the first place, sweetheart.” 

It’s your turn to scoff now, rage flaring in your eyes as you move so close to him his chest brushes against yours. You ignore how incredible he smells, even after all the running you’ve done, ignore how good he looks this close— 

“You are unbelievable, do you know that? Absolutely unbelievable.” 

Poe opens his mouth to retort, a mischievous look in his eyes, but you cut him off by continuing, your voice a harsh whisper. “You’re reckless, hot-headed, impulsive—” 

His finger on your lips stops you, your eyes widening in both shock and rage. 

Unfortunately, you’re silent long enough for him to ask, “How mad would you be if I kissed you right now?” 

Your brow furrowing in confusion, lips parting as much as they can with his finger still pressed against them. Instinctively, your gaze falls to his mouth, eyes dragging over his plump bottom lip as your brain reminds you of all the times you’ve fantasized about a moment just like this one. You watch as the corner of his mouth quirks slightly in a smile and know you’ve somehow given him all the permission he needs. 

He leans in, spanning the meager distance between you as he pulls his hand away, tentatively pressing his lips to yours. He’s giving you a chance to push him away, you realize, to decide you don’t want this but…You do.  

You melt into him, pressing your body against his and pushing him back against the door. He groans softly, the sound going straight to your core and you wonder what else you could do to pull sounds like that from him.  

You hope he gives you a chance to find out. 

His hands cup your cheeks, holding you in place as he presses his tongue against the seam of your lips. You part them without resistance, shivering when he licks inside. The taste of him is divine, a mix of sweetness and spice and something so inherently Poe. You could spend hours, maybe even days, like this, just kissing him, enjoying the taste of him, the feel of him. Already you can’t get enough, can feel your need for him clawing at the base of your spine as your fingers plunge into his soft, dark locks.  

You’re forced to break for air, foreheads pressed together as you both try to catch your breath. 

“This isn’t over, you know,” you pant, pulling back to shoot him what you hope is a stern look. 

He chuckles breathlessly, reaching out to trace the curve of your cheek with his knuckles, his lips quirking slightly when you unconsciously lean into the touch.  

“I’d be disappointed if it was, sweetheart.”

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

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[lianaisabsent]

BSD men if you died

synopsis: you died the day he was planning to propose to you, and God has he never hated any day like that day.

CHARACTERS: Dazai, Ranpo, chuuya

DAZAI OSAMU

He's already lost his dear friend and now the one person he allowed himself to be vulnerable to, someone he allowed himself to get attached to was gone as well.

Fate was playing a joke at this point. Did the world hate seeing him alive and well so much?

He got even more shut in after this, refused to talk to any agency member and pretended like everything was fine.

It was the day he decided “maybe I can allow myself to love someone truly.. Maybe this time it won't be taken away maybe this time I can truly allow myself to be happy" he decided he'd propose, propose after you come back from the mission.

That maybe however was a mistake on his part, There was no maybe in his life. He was born to loose everything.

he chuckled dryly staring at your grave, he couldn't cry he had no tears left now he had truly become a man who lost it all.

He couldn't live anymore, if life wasn't a chore already it certainly was now. He promised to his dear friend he'd live but when he did find a reason to live, to feel he lost it yet again.. It's like fate itself hates him

The day he found your body, he was shocked he was too shocked to even see anything he held your body he screamed and screamed he felt so so vulnerable. How could you leave him? Why would you leave him? You promised you'd stay with him.

After your funeral he spent a whole week at your grave and hoped maybe you light revive and come back and maybe you'll kiss him like you used to, maybe you might bring back life to his cold lips that have been cold ever since your body left all its color.

He did not know anymore he did not care anymore, he felt like living for anyone wasn't worth at this point. Lovers till death they said? What a load of crap.

RANPO EDOGAWA

He knew it. He knew it. He knew it

He couldn't stop it. He knew it. He couldn't stop it.

He cried, he never cried like that he knew it he knew something would happen if you went there on that mission

He didn't eat nor sleep

Cried by your grave and fukuzawa had to take him back to his place to comfort him.

Yosano tried to comfort him as well

Didn't bother poe for a whole two weeks

As soon as you left for that mission even though he told you not to, even though he said he had a surprise you still went. He received the news, he knew something bad would happen but he really didn't expect news of your funeral.

He cried and cried he wasn't ready to let your body go, he didn't want to let it go, he wished he stopped you somehow, any way he could he should have tried.

He stayed by your grave telling you about everything that went on in the armed detective agency even though he knew you weren't there to listen to his ramblings anymore. It only made him sob more

He didn't have it in him anymore, he felt like what was the hardest of being a great detective if he couldn't even save his one and only love.

Seriously everyone was concerned for him, ranpo was never the same after your death.

CHUUYA NAKAHARA

He was angry, he was confused, he was sad.

He felt an anger he never knew he had.

His powers even got the best at one point.

He didn't listen to anyone, he was so angry at your death because you promised just yesterday you wouldn't leave him. How could you

In the port mafia a death isn't really much of a big deal, it happens every now and then but that one death, your death. It wasn't normal at the least, not for chuuya it wasn't.

God knows how much anger he felt that he couldn't help, that he couldn't use his power to save you, that he couldn't hold you in his arms anymore or listen to your voice or feel your touch.

He absolutely hated it. He drowned himself in alcohol, he rummaged through every one of your belongings and kept them close to him. He was so angry, annoyed and frustrated.

How could you just leave him? He planned to propose today, to get down on one knee and give him whole life to you! Yet you just go ahead and die?

He knew it wasn't your fault. He knew you weren't to blame for your death but he had no one else. No one else to blame the death on because the boss closed the case saying it wasn't important. God, has he not hated any other day like the day of your death.

[gangrel-pride]

im already fully committed and subscribed to the inevitable Gomezification of Wednesday Addams so please give me your pitch dec of how Enid is Morticia because I fully agree

sorry it took me a bit i had to try and organize my thoughts and im not very good at that

admittedly I’d like to have more Morticia to compare Enid to but we only had 8 episodes so whatcanyado

under the cut so as not to annoy other people

-there’s The Big One: both Wednesday and Gomez would be dead were it not for Enid and Morticia. Garrett would have killed Gomez had Morticia not ran him through and Tyler would have gutted Wednesday where she stood had Enid not drop-kicked his ass

-then there's the fact they've both committed violence to protect the ones they love and 100% do not regret any of it— despite Enid being portrayed as extremely squeamish

-they’re both cunning as hell and they know how to "play their part" to their advantage. Enid can say what would Wednesday do as much as she wants, but at the end of the day the shit she pulled during the Poe Cup was 100% Enid—there’s also, you know,

the way Enid managed to pull one over on Wednesday? she played the part of the "airhead roommate" (yeah you can't convince me that "ew, what died?" when she walked into a crypt wasn't calculated), so Wens would underestimate her. And while we haven’t seen enough of Morticia to judge she always gives off the vibe that she not only knows more than she lets on, she will 100% use it (honestly a lot of Tish's characterization has the benefit of other iterations of her you can use to fill in some blanks). She at the very least seemed to have a contingency plan for every possible thing Wednesday could have tried to get away from Nevermore

-they’re both actually really good at reading people, it’s tied to the above point

-Enid's well-liked enough to not only have friends in multiple different cliques but she’s also on good terms with enough people to be privy to all kinds of gossip, human or supernatural— and judging from what little Weems said, Morticia seemed to be popular way back when too. Though idk if Enid is the school darling to the extent Morticia seems to have been cause the closest we get to the whole school interacting with Enid is, well,

-my absolute favorite parallel tho is how Enid's got Wednesday wrapped around her little finger just like Morticia’s got Gomez. Enid is the only one who can get Wednesday to do anything, from apologizing to Thing to putting her murder board somewhere else—she didn’t even have to ask, it made her uncomfortable and Wednesday just, like, moved it—to wrangle genuine compliments out of her. as a bonus Wednesday goes full My Girl Is Mad At Me I Hope I Die after their fight, which is very Gomez of her

-Enid can't stand staying away from Wednesday. In fact, she can stand it so little she doesn't even wait for Weds to apologize, she just comes back

girl you didn't even give an explanation for why you work, you just got tired of waiting for Wednesday to swallow her fuckin pride and came back all on your own she gave you NOTHING!

And while you could argue this is some Gomez-ass behavior, i think Morticia and Gomez are just as bad as each other on this

-this right here is some Morticia-ass behavior she's so proud:

-the height difference, it's uncanny:

in conclusion, whether intentional or not Enid is more Morticia than Wednesday is and Wens should be actually worried about being too much like her father thank you for coming to my TED Talk

[vivalas-vega]

longshot / part one / bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader

heyooo! new fic alert - with bradley !!! i'm not sure i even want to call this part one as it's more of an intro but here we are. super excited to finally be writing for mr. bradshaw, and even more excited to be revisiting this idea from back when this was exclusively a star wars blog and my writing was ass compared to now (professor poe dameron, anyone?) anyways, i wanted to get this out to get some feedback -- as always please please please let me know what you think !!!

longshot / part one / bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader (nickname dove!)

follow my taglist blog and turn on notifications to be updated @vegaslibrary

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mention of parental death -- general warnings going forward: typical 18+ content (drinking, swearing, smut, the works), me not knowing anything about college - this is my ideal world where everything works how I want it to not how it probably is :) (prob should mention this is not an au)

You relaxed as you stood in the aisle of the dimly-lit bookstore, taking in a deep breath of that new book smell and coffee from the in-house cafe, a smell so recognizable you almost felt the urge to cry as you reminisced. Your fingers nimbly opened a book, eyes scanning the description hidden within but you weren’t really absorbing the words so you closed it with a soft thud and slid it back onto the shelf. You continued to make your way through the store, thoughts as scattered as your approach to book shopping tonight but that was because you weren’t really shopping at all.

You weren’t even entirely sure why you’d come in, the comfort of your old college hangout called out to offer solace on your drive home and you couldn’t resist. You felt like the walls were caving in and to be standing in such a meaningful place, looking the same as it ever did, wrapped you in a sense of security. Your guard was beginning to drop for what felt like the first time in years and it was in that exact moment that you bumped into a familiar stranger, their voice raising the hairs on the back of your neck and flooding you with memories of a different time.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, let me help you…”

“Shit, my bad. Let me get that,” the handsome stranger that had just walked straight into you quickly knelt to pick up the books you’d both dropped. You felt your cheeks flush as you suddenly felt embarrassed, your wits already weren’t about you this morning and here you were colliding into the solid man currently gathering up your belongings in a perfectly fitted button up with a mustache that shouldn’t have worked and beautiful brown eyes. 

“That’s alright, everyone needs a little jolt to keep them awake in the mornings,” you replied easily. You wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t checking him out, and it only made you flush further as he handed you your things, “Professor Bradshaw?” you asked, gesturing to the ID badge pinned to his pants and he nodded. “Weird coincidence, I was actually on my way to introduce myself to you,” you said before giving him your name, trying to put your earlier thoughts out of your head as his warm hand wrapped around yours to shake.

“Ah, yes… you applied to be my teaching assistant,” he said and you nodded. 

“Figured it would be harder to tell me no if I came to pitch myself in person,” you chuckled.

“I take it you haven’t checked your email yet this morning?” he asked and you gave him a confused look. “Save the elevator pitch, I was inviting you to coffee to get to know you better and go over expectations.”

“Expectations? Does that mean I got it?” you asked, excitement palpable. “I thought you only accepted students who had taken your class before?”

“Decided to make an exception for you,” he replied with an easy smile. “Does three work for you? Here?”

You nodded, “absolutely, I’ll see you then. I promise you won’t regret this, Professor Bradshaw.”

“Please, call me Bradley.”

“Professor Bradshaw,” you said with a smirk as he looked up at you, and he quickly fumbled with the books before standing to give you a proper once over. 

“Professor,” he sighed, “you know I hate that.”

“I know,” you responded. “Nice to see that this is still your go-to spot.”

“Old habits die hard,” he chuckled, “are you back home because of your parents?” he asked and you nodded, and you didn’t miss the solemn expression that passed over his features before he quickly corrected it. “I’m so sorry, Dove.”

You smiled softly, “haven’t heard that name in a while,” you replied, dodging past his condolences entirely.

“Sometimes I forget it’s not actually your name,” he chuckled. “Half expect the banner at the bottom of the screen to say Dove and I’m always shocked when it doesn’t.”

“You’ve been watching?” you asked, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Of course I have,” he replied as if it would have been absurd for him not to. You lapsed into comfortable silence as the two of you drank each other in, noting what had changed and what had stayed the same… you had to keep from squinting at him because he looked the same as he did four years ago, maybe the lines around his eyes were a little deeper when he smiled but it was the only indication that any time had passed at all. 

You were taller, which he couldn’t reconcile until he glanced down and saw the stilettos on your feet, sharp and black and perfectly matching the black suit vest and jeans you wore. Your style was the same, classic and a little academic with an edge, only now it seemed more elevated, you seemed more elevated. 

“How long have you been in town?” he finally asked.

“Only a few days,” you answered, “feel like my head is spinning with how unchanged everything is… and this certainly isn’t helping my deja vu,” you chuckled.

“If I remember correctly this is right about the same spot you ran into me all those years ago,” he said, looking around and you gave him an incredulous look.

“Me? It was you who ran into me, just like you did a few minutes ago,” you said through a laugh and he shrugged.

“He said she said,” he replied as you shook your head. “Well, how long are you here for?”

“Indefinitely, I’m afraid,” you said and he gave you a confused look. “Dealing with typical dead parents stuff, turns out there’s a lot more to it than one would think.”

He nodded in understanding, “yeah, no one prepares you for all the paperwork.”

“That and they were too busy to keep up on the house… I always knew it needed some love but I’ve got a contractor telling me it basically needs a top to bottom renovation,” you sighed. “But hey, it’s a nice distraction from Capitol Hill.”

“You’re not rushing to get back?”

“God no, if I even go back at all,” you said with a soft laugh and now he was really surprised. “Oh,” you said, suddenly a little self conscious about how much you’d already said in this bookstore aisle, “I’m keeping you.”

He shook his head, “you’re not. It’s not everyday I run into my favorite student,” he said and you couldn’t help but flush.

“Still? Guess I set the bar too high,” you teased and he nodded.

“If only you knew,” he chuckled. “I would love to see you again though, actually catch up if you have any free time?” 

You smiled as you fished your phone out of your bag, “I would love that,” you said as you exchanged phones to input your numbers. 

“I’ll text you,” he said and you were about to part ways but you were unsure of how to do so… you didn’t want to simply walk away, but you didn’t know if a handshake were too formal or a hug too personal, but he made the decision for you, already seeing the gears turning in your head as he opened his arms subtly and you softly laughed as you stepped in, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “It really is good to see you, Dove.”

“You too, Rooster,” you replied and he gave you a squeeze before letting you go as he laughed.

“Still regret telling you that.”

“What? You can use my callsign but I can’t use yours?” you asked with a smirk as you started walking backwards away from him. 

“You don’t have a callsign!”

“Then what’s Dove?” you retorted and he didn’t have an answer, and so you gave him a soft nod as you turned for the register, and as you checked out you were unable to keep the smile off your face. Everything about returning home had been jarring, but not this… not him. Your favorite professor, your mentor, maybe even your friend towards the end of your working relationship. Your mind had been reeling as you tried to piece together what life would be like now with your career up in the air and your parents gone, and for the first time in weeks you felt like maybe this trip home wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

[eyelessfaces]

but you know for a fact it isn’t just drunk. no, it’s giggly, with poe gently groping any part of your body he can reach, but it’s not just your ass or chest. he’s kneading at your sides, hands sprawling across your ribcage, his fingers trying to mimic the bone to protect your heart. he’s whispering silly things (“so pretty”, “wanna keep you like this forever”, “thank the stars you exist”, “i don’t know what i’d do without you”) to you while trying to simultaneously kiss you. if you’re in the cantina, finn and rey are gagging and giggling to each other, snapping the memory to tuck away for your (inevitable) wedding, or even the next day, to poke fun at you. the music blares in your ears, but you’re somehow able to hear all of the soft, sweet nothings poe promises to you.

but if you’ve finally found a moment alone, a moment away from all of the chaos of the war, he’s absolutely gushing. babbling nonsense about how he’s going to marry you, with his ring clenched in his palm, making small, curving indents into his calloused skin. talks about taking you on a ride in his x-wing, with one of those cheesy “just married” banners being shittily pasted on the side. keeps kissing you through his incoherent ramblings, his hands in your hair, gently cupping your jaw. or, they’re encasing your neck, the first juncture of his fingers pressing against either side of your pulse points, with his thumbs gently keeping your head tilted up. it has undertones of possession, but he’s so gentle that you almost cry.

or, the best case scenario: the war has ended, with you two in your humble abode on yavin. it’s one of those heavier nights, where the survivor’s guilt gets to the both of you a bit too hard. you both drink a bit too much, tangled up on your couch, or in bed. he’s still got that little inch in the back of his mind that’s screaming that you two will be in danger yet again. but, he ignores it. he kisses you slowly, his tongue gently brushing across with yours, his hands holding either sides of your hips, keeping you half on top of him. he looks at his mother’s wedding ring on your finger, a wave of emotion crossing his face. the languid kisses turn softer, with you falling asleep, and his hand tangled into your hair. you both visit his mother’s grave the next morning.

heeeelloooooo screaming crying throwing up😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭help

[that-ari-blogger]

This Is About Relationships (Hell's Greatest Dad)

I feel like we are seeing more and more stories that draw on horror elements as of recent times, with mixed success.

Critical Role, for example, has put some heavy emphasis on body and cosmic horror in their most recent campaigns, and I think that has worked really well. They are telling a story about feeling powerful in the face of adversity, and so having villains who are either unknowable or far too knowable really works for that idea.

On the other hand, the horror elements of Doctor Strange and the Multiverse of Madness actively took me out of the story, because they didn’t fit with the rest of the franchise at all, and I found that rather jarring.

Then there is Hazbin Hotel, which isn’t scary, but it definitely draws on some of the tools of writing horror. Although it doesn't do that in the way you might expect. Specifically, it uses the character of Lucifer to both embody and subvert the very nature of Gothic horror itself.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD: (Hazbin Hotel, Ratatouille, Paradise Lost, Frankenstein)

I have made my stance on genre extremely clear in the past. I think it exists, but I think it is bollocks, and Hazbin Hotel kind of proves my point.

Because, yes, you can boil Horror down into however many constituent parts as you would like in order to organise a bookstore, but however you spin it, Hazbin Hotel fits that, with the exception that it isn’t scary.

Then again, being scary is entirely subjective. For example, I am completely fine with ghosts and ghouls, so the only thing that gets me about games such as Phasmophobia are the jump scares, and Jump Scares aren't horror. By the same score, I am incredibly squeamish, so Hazbin Hotel itself was more difficult for me than a few of my friends.

Which leads me to gothic horror, which has a distinct aesthetic to it that isn’t actually essential at all.

The name actually comes from its aesthetic. Gothic fiction got started in the 1700s when Gothic architecture was popular but gained traction in the early 1800s when authors such as Edgar Alen Poe and Jane Austin got involved. The latter of whom wrote Northanger Abbey in 1818 to parody the overdramatization of the genre in a book that I personally despise.

Austin’s book comes across to me as incredibly insincere. I have an infinite respect for Austin’s work, but there is a deep sense of contempt in Northanger Abbey that drives me up the wall.

I want to be clear here, this is not me saying the book is bad. It is incredibly well written. I just hate it with every fibre of my being.

To me, Northanger Abbey missed the point of the gothic genre. Gothic isn't about the emotion, it's about the humanity. The fallibility, the force of will, the instability and resilience that come and go like the wind.

Gothic horror turns that into fear, specifically the fear of morality. It’s the Ratatouille genre. Any angel can sin, any demon can rise. Or in other words:

“Anyone can cook.”

Gothic horror is the fear of inconsistency. That someone you trust can betray you, or spiral into awful deeds, or that someone you despise might be right. It’s the fear of redemption, and conversely, the terror of good motives leading to bad ends.

Other subsets of horror draw on the fear of the unknown, or of not knowing. Gothic fiction is steeped in the terror of what you know being wrong.

Case and point, Frankenstein is both the archetypal science fiction book, and a phenomenal Gothic story. The terror is derived from the fact that it’s titular character can be so great and yet such an absolute monster, as well as the horror of creating a conscience.

The creature is intelligent, and its intrinsic morality is up for debate the entire time. Frankenstein calls it his "Adam", for Pete's sake. It kills multiple people, but as a reader you are unsettled by how much you agree with its motives.

Gothic horror is the fear of absence. There is no good or evil here, just people.

There’s a reason I brought up Ratatouille. The conflict of the series is derived from Skinner’s visceral fear that someone he despises as much as Linguine can actually be competent, combined with a field rat rising from the gutter to run a restaurant. “Anyone can cook” is a threat in this movie, but it gets better explained by Ego in a way that I really like.

“In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau’s famous motto: ‘Anyone can cook.’ But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere.”

According to one of the greatest fanfics ever written, Paradise Lost, Lucifer rebelled against G-d’s vision and fell, which can be taken any number of ways. It’s written so that you sympathise with the main character, who is, may I remind you, the literal devil.

Worth noting, Frankenstein's monster reads Paradise Lost. I wonder if there is any significance to that.

Lucifer from Hazbin Hotel is nominally the same character as his biblical counterpart, except that he is blissfully unaware of any of the themes surrounding him. Kinda.

He has grasped the fact that anyone can fall, but the reverse of that hasn’t quite registered to him yet.

Case and point, he doesn’t understand people at all. He has sought escapism through “stuff”. By which I mean the ducks, but I also mean his song, Hell’s Greatest Dad.

Part of the gothic theming in Hazbin Hotel is that people aren’t static, and that relationships are more important than anything else. Angel Dust and Pentious don’t become better people through trust falls, the find it through love and companionship, both platonic and more than platonic.

To demonstrate this, we contrast Lucifer with Alastor, who once again doesn’t sing his own song but steals it off someone else. Alastor’s relationship with Charlie is so obviously sinister, and that will be better explained two episodes down the line, but at least he has a relationship with her.

The agony of this is that Jeremy Jordan is a phenomenal voice actor, who, along with Lucifer’s stellar writing, endears the character to you from his first scene.

Alastor is a villain; Lucifer is an absent father. Who do you side with here? That’s gothic fiction.

“Sailors fighting in the dance hall, Oh man, look at those cavemen go. It’s the freakiest show. Take a look at the lawman Beating up the wrong guy Oh man, wonder if he’ll ever know He's in the best selling show. Is there life on Mars?”

This is the chorus of a David Bowie song called Life On Mars. It centres around someone seeking escape through television and storytelling. It points out the futility of this, but the fact that it works. It’s a stable dynamic that doesn’t go anywhere.

Remind you of anything?

“Who needs a busboy, now that you've got the chef? Michelin tasting menu, free à la carte I'll rig the game for you because I'm the ref Champagne fountains, caviar mountains, that's just to start!”

Lucifer is offering Charlie anything she could dream of. Any thing. But Charlie doesn’t need an object. She needs a father, and she needs her relationship with Lucifer.

Enter Alastor, who, up to this point, has been generally benevolent to Charlie. He’s basically the embodiment of that old Tumblr textpost that described someone as “chaotic gay. I haven’t done anything evil yet, but my general aesthetic and demeanour tell you that I will, any day now.”

Side note, I know this post exists. I have seen it, I have screenshots of it. But Tumblr’s search function is so legendarily awful that I cannot locate it. Tumblr’s search function has beaten the FBI before, and I don’t have that much patience.

In any case, Alastor offers up his own curriculum vitae in the form of this:

“Who’s been here since day one? Who’s been faithful as a nun? Makes you chuckle with an old-timey pun? Your executive producer.”

He’s pitching himself via his relationship with Charlie. But what I wanted to point out specifically was how the two characters relate to the beat of the song.

This song is inspired by Friend Like Me. I know it's subtle, but I'm onto something, and I can pick out the clues. If you look closely at his moustache in this shot...

Lucifer is clicked to the rhythm, or rather, his backing music is. The band hits ever downbeat as one, looping back to play the same thing every few bars. It is incredibly stable. The one thing that isn’t, is Lucifer.

The man misses every single beat by a fraction of a second. Not much, but when you contrast him with the entirely of the rest of the song, you notice that tiny imperfection, especially when Alastor doesn’t share it.

Alastor starts singing by matching the beat perfectly with his opening sounds, then going free within the restraints. Later, when he co-opts the song, the band begins playing along with him and matching his melody.

The Radio Demon understands people incredibly well, and he works on relationships. As such, his music has a much more symbiotic relationship between each of the parts. Lucifer’s feels like a creation, Alastor’s feels like it was created, if that makes sense. There’s a human element to Alastor’s take on this song.

Which brings me back to the gothic stuff going on here, and the relationship between Lucifer and Alastor. Alastor is, of course, a manipulator. He takes issue with Lucifer because he wants Charlie isolated. But Lucifer has no reason to get upset by Alastor, right?

Alastor shakes up Lucifer’s entire worldview, to the point where I find some of the double dad dynamic between them rather compelling. Most of it.

Alastor is risk incarnate; he stands for the idea that anyone can do anything. A radio presenter can be a cannibal, and have parenting instincts take over with Nifty and at times Charlie. But he is unsafe. Because he is such an unknown, he is untrustworthy. You don’t know where you stand.

Lucifer, meanwhile, is terrified of this fact. He likes the safety of knowing where he stands, he can protect himself there, but he can also protect others. In my eyes, that’s why he was so absent with Charlie. He found something he could understand and kept it because he didn’t want to shake up the rhythm. But that was futile, and he realises this over the course of this episode.

But you might say “wait, Alastor is ace, he can’t be with Lucifer,” and my answer is twofold. First up, I am ace too, that doesn’t prohibit relationships. I’m not even talking about romantic stuff here, Alastor is the poster boy for being aromantic, but more importantly, parenting isn’t just about the other parent.

The two can both be dads, joined by their mutual care for their daughter, rather than affection for each other. I find that compelling. Charlie needs both the security and the sign that everything is possible. She needs someone to lift her up, but she also needs someone to catch her when she falls, and Lucifer and Alastor both play different roles in that dynamic.

Any angel can sin, any demon can rise. Anyone can be a dad, anyone can cook.

Final Thoughts

Jeremy Jordan is a global treasure and even if this series doesn’t stick the landing with its next season (we will see), Lucifer will be amazing.

Do I have a crush on this man? No. No, I do not. Why do you ask?

In all seriousness, I think episode five should have been two episodes. One for this song, and one for the next. Lucifer would join the Hotel’s crew for a few days, befriending Pentious and co., being utterly disrespected by Husk, and being eased into the fact that morality isn’t binary.

I don’t even mean this from just the pacing perspective, I think the series would have so much more thematic weight if it devoted more time to the literal devil learning the thesis of the series and becoming on board with redemption. I think that would be cool.

I'm also just now realising that this is a Gothic Horror musical, so of course Alex Brightman got cast in it.

In any case, next week is More Than Anything, which is yet another case study in why Jeremy Jordan is amazing. Stick around if that interests you.

Previous - Next

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

(Yandere) Poe Dameron Headcannons part 2

Poe would always let you hang out with BB-8, he loves watching you two have fun together and it makes you even cuter to him. <3

He knows he's obsessed with you and he doesn't plan on stopping anytime soon.

Poe secretly wants to find a way to keep you safe and protected from all the chaos of the First Order.

Whenever you're near him he will secretly steal some glances at you or just watch you Work. <3

Sometimes Poe sneaks into your quarters, climb into your bed, pulling you close to him and cuddles you. And when you wake up he will gently kiss you back to sleep again. <3

Poe loves sitting in his X-Wing with you on his lap. If you try to make an excuse saying the cockpit is way too cramped and only one person fits in there, Poe will scoop you up in his arms and prove you otherwise by sitting down, placing you on his lap and giving you the most cocky grin you've ever seen.

Be warned, if you're in an relationship with Poe, that guy will spoil you rotten. He will bring you everything, Crystals? Yes. Jewelry? Hell yes. Handcrafted gifts? Absolutely!

After missions, the first thing Poe does after climbing out of his X-Wing is to search for you, pull you away and plant kisses all over your neck, telling you how much he missed you and will kiss your lips until they're red and puffy!!

Poe can get quite possessive at times, he often sneaks up behind you, (especially if you're bending over ;) ) wraps his arms around your waist, pulls you close and whisper sweet nothings into your ear while snaking his hand downwards to squeeze your butt possessively.

Poe is protective of you, no matter what. Wanna become a pilot? Poe will teach you piloting himself in no time.

You're scheduled to go on a mission away from the current base? Poe will not allow it. You will stay at the base, where you're safe. Leia will agree to Poe because she knows how special you are to him. :)

Did you and BB-8 decide to play rebels and sneak off or steal Poe's X-Wing?? Well, when you two are back and Poe found out, he will wait and scold BB-8. And you? Poe may scold you lightly and tell you how much you matter to him and he doesn't want to lose you.

Poe spends every free second he has with you. He will always make sure you are comfortable.

Sometimes Poe wishes he could take you away with him and keep you all to himself.

It's cold outside and you're freezing your butt off? Poe will give you his jacket and pull you into his arms, letting his body warm you up.

-

"Don't worry, I got you, baby. You're getting all cold out here, hmm? You're lucky I'm here to keep you warm. You can always stay in my arms if you want. But I would love to keep you in my arms forever."

[according2thelore]

happy wincest wednesday!!! i really want to pay it forward from the ask you sent me last week and ask what you (both?) think sam and dean's favorite books are! i mostly answered based on what books i had already read, so i'm really curious if in the books you've read you'd have different opinions! if not though (or in addition if you'd like!), i'd love to know what you think their favorite movies are, too :) give dean's favorite medium a moment in the spotlight, too 💖 (@incesthemes)

hi! happy wincest wednesday!

hmm--i think sam has a long, enduring, passionate love affair with the hardy boys and nancy drew books. i think he longs in some ways to be the hardy boys/nancy drew, because they get to solve mysteries and be hypercompetent while also having a secure home environment. in nancy's case, she's popular and has a boyfriend and also gets to explore thick tomes of town lore. they were so easy to find at libraries across america, and super easy to steal/shoplift because of how thin they were.

(dean also makes fun of him by calling him a hardy boy for a long time, i imagine. you also cannot tell me dean would not get an absolute fucking kick out of calling sam "nancy")

i also think that as he gets older, he gets more bitter/disillusioned about both series, but still has a secret fondness for seeing their covers in bookstores.

as he gets older (high school age), sam definitely gravitates towards more gothic, as you mentioned! i think he finds wuthering heights compelling, but can't quite put his finger on it, and never tells dean because dean would make fun of him for liking such a girly book. science fiction/horror novellas are also fun to him (frankenstein, poe, dracula, jekyll, the murders in rue morgue).

we know dean is a closet intellectual at his own choice, so i imagine he steals/lifts books from libraries/stores, and keeps them in the bottom of his duffle. i think a lot of this happens after sam leaves for college and dean suddenly has 80 hours of free time a week now that he's not huffing sam's boxers and staring at him lovingly in the rearview mirror.

in terms of books that they had to read (and inevitably read/reread over and over again as they move to schools that haven't read them yet):

sam likes: tale of two cities by dickens, telltale heart by poe, in cold blood by capote, inferno by dante, to kill a mockingbird by lee, yellow wallpaper by gilman, matilda by dahl sam HATES: romeo and juliet by shakespeare, heart of darkness by conrad, a separate peace by knowles (he hates that he finds himself in gene), tess of the d'urbervilles (bc he also hates he strangely relates to it)

dean likes: in cold blood by capote, hamlet by shakespeare, 1984 by orwell, lord of the flies by golding, and then there were none by christie, count of monte christo by dumas, any western he can get his hands on dean HATES: frankenstein by shelley, a good man by o'conner (HATES IT), catcher in the rye by salinger (it makes him angry that he gets called out), lolita by nabokov (it makes him a little nauseous how much he likes it, he agrees that humbert is a pedophile, but the depth of the "devotion" there makes him ill), dense histories like war and peace/tale of two cities/les miserables, etc.; he hates anything by dostoevsky--he finds the morality to be posturing and tiresome

i think they BOTH love the LOTR series--books and movies. as they both canonically watch GOT together as adults (and considering dean is more into LARPing than he likes to admit) i think they both love fantasy.

dean saw two towers while sam was away at college and has been dreaming nonstop of dying in an epic battle protecting those he loves in heroic and sexy ways like in the battle for helms deep.

but he still mostly refuses to watch the parts with frodo/sam in return of the king because "frodo is annoying" (because he gets uncomfortable and scared when frodo and sam touch foreheads and cry and sam picks up frodo because he can't carry the ring but he can carry frodo, and hearing frodo scream sam's name in agony makes him nauseous)

dean swears he likes LOTR for the fights but sam knows better.

(secretly, i think dean used to read chapters of the hobbit to sam when he was really small. it's the first book john buys him after the fire because john grew up with his own dad reading it to him before he disappeared.)

i think as an adult, dean gravitates towards more crime thrillers. they have clean cut endings, and he likes how the main character is usually a grizzled, alcoholic washup looking for redemption with his estranged wife (he completely cannot relate). he also likes brandon sanderson until he finds out Nerds also like them, so he gives up on them.

and i think sam might gravitate towards nonfiction/realistic fiction/historical fiction. he doesn't want to read about quests, he doesn't want to read about chosen ones, he doesn't want to read about brothers having to watch each other die, he doesn't want to read about how Bad is Always Bad.

bonus: they both read 50 shades after the craze in like 2015, and dean was scandalized to read this in a book while sam was like...this is it? he hits her a couple of times??

i've mentioned this a MILLION times, but i think they both love the die hard movie series. mostly the first one, and mostly dean, but they try to catch the marathons on cable every christmas.

dean loves the lost boys (because COME ON OF COURSE HE DOES!!! little brother and vampires and the good guys win! no moral complexity!), ghost busters, roadhouse, quick and fast murder mysteries with easy solutions, dirty dancing, tombstone, rocky, jaws, and--secretly--little women. he cries like a fucking kid being dragged away from a candy store.

sam loves indiana jones, star trek, friday the 13th (bc if he follows the Horror Movie rules, he and his family are safe!), the rear window, ET, it's a wonderful life (a movie about how your life has meaning even if you think you're making everyone's life worse...come on...), and a million arthouse movies about how life is strange and vulnerable.

they both like/watch together: star wars, bill & ted's excellent adventure, die hard, jurassic park, LOTR, the early 2000 fantastic four movies (they're not good, but they're mindless; dean wants to be johnny storm and sammy would DIE to be reed; dean likes to joke that sam's jessica alba instead), oceans 11

sam doesn't like monster movies anymore. dean doesn't like war movies anymore.

THIS WAS SO MUCH LOL I'M SO SORRY--i have a lot of thoughts about their favourite books/movies apparently! thank you so much for this ask--it was SO FUN to answer, lol! <3

i have texted charlotte and will reblog with her opinions when she responds! (she is busy gworl)

-lizzy

[thelovelylolly]

hi!! i saw your requests were open so i thought i’d send you one :) can i get a poe dameron x reader, where the reader is a mechanic and everything is so hectic with the resistance, that everyone is kind of ignoring/speaking over/forgetting them. maybe they’re especially hurt that poe is acting like that, but they understand that everyone is busy? i was thinking sort of like a hurt comfort with a confession at the end? i absolutely adore your work <3

Busy

Summary : It's a hectic time in the Resistance, and you seemed to be singled out by everyone. Including Poe. Warnings : being ignored and stuff like that i guess Notes : thank you for the request :) im so glad you enjoy my work love <3

You knew when you joined the Resistance that things would be a bit crazy. You worked hard to protect the galaxy, everyone had a part to play. But recently, things seemed to be turned up to 11.

Your friends were always busy, having no time to even say 'hi' to you. At meetings, you would be ignored or even talked over. You were busy as well, one of the top mechanics on the base, but you tried to make time for everyone.

What hurt most was Poe seemed to ignore you entirely.

You and Poe had been good friends since you had joined the Resistance, and you had quickly caught feelings for him. You two always hung out whenever you could, you two were inseparable. But recently, you two had slowly had stopped hanging out.

You had made an effort to talk to Poe and spend time with him, but he was always busy and whenever he wasn't, you were.

It was always "I have to finish mission reports" or "I have to run drills" or "the general is having a meeting and I have to be there" from him.

You tried to get by without seeing him everyday, but it was hard.

One day, you had woken up from a nap after a long shift and decided to run to the cafeteria for some caf and a snack. You walked in and got your caf, but then you heard a loud laugh. Poe's laugh.

You turned around, seeing him laughing with some other higher ups. He had told you that he was working, that you two couldn't hang out because he was busy. Why did he lie to you?

You sipped your caf before walking over to him, a smile plastered on your face. "Hi Poe," you said, catching his attention.

"Hey! I didn't know you had today off," Poe replied, turning to face you.

"I, uh, I don't. I worked the early morning shift today."

"Don't you usually take the 12 hour day shift? You're one of our best mechanics, someone has to be out there to make sure people do what they need to do," he joked.

You looked down at your cup of caf, your finger tapping the side of it anxiously. "Yeah, I do, but I asked for the early shift so we could hang out. Then you told me you were busy and it was too late to change it, so here we are."

"I did? Kriff, I'm sorry, I-"

"You're clearly very busy with your other friends so I'll just go."

As you left the cafeteria, you heard Poe calling for you, but you ignored him just like he had ignored you recently. Were you overreacting? Maybe, but if he didn't want to hang out with you, then you wouldn't bother him.

You downed the rest of your caf, throwing the cup away on your way back to your room. Once you got there, you changed into fresh, comfortable clothes. You were so tired after your early shift that you fell asleep in your mechanic uniform. You didn't know what you were going to do the rest of your day since you had it off.

A knock at the door snapped you out of your thoughts.

"Go away, Poe!" You yelled, tossing your dirty clothes into a hamper to get washed.

"How'd you know it was me?" You heard him call back.

You sighed before walking over to the door and opening it. "Because I heard you calling after me when I left the cafeteria."

"Can I come in?"

"Why-"

"Please? I just want to talk, that's it. And I know you're not busy because you have the rest of the day off and you never know what to do on your days off."

He knew you too well.

You rolled your eyes and stepped aside to let him in. The door slid shut behind him and he turned to face you. Your arms were crossed in front of your chest as you glared at him.

"Listen, I know I'm a jerk for doing that-"

"Jerk is an understatement, Poe. You lied to me. I thought we were best friends, that we don't lie to each other to hang out with other people-"

"I thought our shifts wouldn't line up-"

"Poe, you know that I've been trying to hang out with you or see you or even say 'hi' to you, but we've been too busy for all of that! But at least I've been trying to see you! You don't even put in effort to see me-"

"Why are you so upset over this? We're all busy, it's just part of the Resistance! You're not the only one overwhelmed and stressed over this!"

"I've been talked over and ignored, I haven't gotten proper sleep in weeks, and on top of all of that, I never see you! We went from spending everyday together to not even hearing from each other for days! And what makes it worse is that I love you, but you don't seem to even care!"

You were so worked up, so upset, that you didn't even notice what you had said until it was too late. You and Poe stood there, a little out of breath from the yelling match you were having.

You tried to blink away the tears that had started to form. You shakily took a deep breath, looking anywhere but at Poe. "Just ignore what I just said-"

"You love me?"

You finally looked at Poe and nodded, wiping the one stray tear that had fallen down your cheek. "For awhile now."

Poe's heart ached when he saw you wipe away the tear. He quickly pulled into a tight hug, his chin on the top of your head as you buried your face into his chest. His arms wrapped tightly around you.

You two stayed like that for only a few minutes, but it felt like eternity for you. After weeks of not seeing each other, a hug was just what you needed. Even if Poe knew you had feelings for him, and even if he didn't have the same feelings for you, you were just happy to have that moment.

Then, Poe pulled away a little bit. One of his hands tilted your head up before cupping your cheek. He leaned in and softly kissed you. You quickly forgot the argument, melting into the kiss and getting lost in it. But he pulled away again, leaning his forehead against yours.

"I love you, too, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing another soft yet short kiss to your lips.

[queen-of-elves]

Let's try again

Poe Dameron x fem!reader College AU

Summary: You thought college was a new fresh start, so seeing Poe Dameron again at a party completely wrecks your world.

A/N: Not proofread sorry, I am done with my college exams so I back to writing hehe

Words: over 6.2K

Warnings: cursing, some insecurities, daydreaming as a for of escape

Request are still open

Tags for this fanfic: @ahookedheroespureheart

This party was advertised as a private party, a surely small thing with just enough people you knew to talk to. Wrong, completely and utterly wrong. Beer, loud booming music and loads of people, would be a perfect description of a frat party. 

Private party my ass, Jessica.

Jessica was the one to invite you, the two of you met at the start of the winter semester and hit it off instantly. Well, if instantly meant Jessica basically adopting you and becoming your support extrovert for social interactions. So when she told you, A small party and I will be basically attached to your hip, well, you to mine, but please don’t hide behind me the whole time. Live a little, girlie.

You truly didn’t expect this amount of overwhelming feelings, it was probably ‘cause you didn’t come prepared for all of this. Small number of people you knew from shared classes plus Jessie next to you? Social battery ready. Full house with red cups littering the hall just like the people invited? Halls and rooms full of strangers with loud music and not enough air to actually breathe? Yeah, not really ready. Not ready at ALL. 

What you also weren’t ready for was Jessica ditching you at the sofa she stationed you at with the promise of not that much alcoholic beverage in your cup as last time. This sentence was actually met with you pointing a finger in her face and quick “Knew it!” exhaled before she sprinted away. Last time you made an absolute fool of yourself while drunk, not nonconsensually, Jessica told you it had alcohol in it, hoping you would relax a bit and you accepted. Relaxing a bit after a what Jessica called a bit of vodka, which was in your opinion loads of what you assumed was pure and concentrated methanol, resulted in you turning into an absolute beast, according to eyewitnesses, your classmates and of course rest of the party goers you don’t know telling you the next day. It also resulted in you waking up with the worst headache of your life, foul taste in your mouth and almost zero memory of the night before. Not exactly an experiment you wanted to be part of for the second time. 

But the night got worse, of course it did go worse, if you drank it was bad and if you didn’t you got bored just like now. And bored always resulted in either sticking to Jessie’s back or hip and begging her to leave the lame party early or if she evaded your presence the moment you got bored it was on you to choose between waiting on her or leaving yourself. You never left by yourself. Yes, it was an option but a terrible one, unwanted and awkward and no one wants those. So, you stuck to the position, sitting on the cushion sofa in the middle of a living room in a frat house full of people with loud music blasting from speakers. 

You can do it, people go on dangerous expeditions and always come back. Well, not always. Actually what is the percentage of dangerous expeditions going wrong. That must depend on the definition of dangerous expedition, right? God, I should google it.

You had spaced out again. It’s not something you would do often- a blatant lie, you actually did it often, too often nowadays. Sometimes it was just thoughts building a maze in your head and hiding your brain and sometimes it was daydreams, with no rational scheme behind those thoughts. It was an escape that made you feel better. In some kind of fucked up way it made you feel seen even though it was not real and just in your head. But it was happiness and therefore you would take it.

And with your mind swimming around in your head so did your eyes, away from the musty old carpet and into the crowd. The house felt fuller than before and it probably was. It has been an hour since you arrived with Jessica, fashionably late or something according to her. Jessica’s lateness was however disturbed by your anxiousness of being too late, so instead of an hour late it was 20 minutes. So all the actually and purposely late people had finally arrived.

It felt like you would develop a headache, no, you were definitely going to get a headache. And so your eyes kept on skimming across the room, one of the legs of the coffee table in front of you that was cracked or the ripped wallpaper on the other side of the room. And then you caught someone’s eyes, staring in recognition at you. It terrified you, being observed in such a way and again the night got worse, so so much worse. Because you recognized those eyes and his face just like he did with yours. Here he stood, a few meters away with a red cup in hand, leaning on one of the four walls of the living room.

Poe was always boyishly handsome, the next door kind of boy handsome, but now he was heavenly being among mortals. What once were curious big eyes with mischievous glint, and he truly didn’t lose the spark in those years, just turned into dark flirtatious danger. 

And what could have been a friendly, surprising meeting after all this time between childhood friends was only a bitter aftertaste in your mouth. You couldn’t look at him. You thought it was behind you, it felt like years and was in fact swept by those years under the rug like any kind of unpleasant memory from your past. But this was Poe, your Poe, no, scratch that, he was not your Poe anymore. There was nothing left of the boy you would play with every day, go to the beach every summer and who would make you laugh so uncontrollably until your stomach hurt. 

And now he was excusing himself from the conversation he was having moments prior to your staring contest? Accident? Let’s call it an accident. It felt like one and it was going to result in a horrendous amount of trauma, again. 

The whole time he held your gaze with his, not even a second was given to anything else. You were sure he was going to trip over the outstretched legs of one of the boys but he just stepped over them without looking. He was always a lucky bastard. So wishing him to fall over something and plant his handsome face on that disgusting carpet while you would sprint down your escape route, you had already planned, was a delusional dream.

“What are you doing here?”  He finally arrived close enough not to awkwardly yell at you across the room when he spoke and you were ready to puked all over yourself. Poe even attempted to hug you or at least his arms were spread wide open instigating he was going for a hug. But this attempt was shortly discarded after you didn’t move an inch to meet the hug, still sitting on the sofa with a shocked expression as if made out of stone. You couldn’t move, you just couldn’t, there was no explaining it. 

So that’s how deers feel when they are staring at the headlights. Paralyzed and ready to be crushed, unable to move to escape.

But for you there was escaping. Maybe you could play amnesia, a little trip down the stairs and upsie dupsie you don't remember him.

“Sorry, it’s you, right? Y/N?” He looked unsure and a bit awkward. Poe most likely didn’t expect you here or to even see you again in his life. In both of your eyes it was probably for the best not seeing each other after how your friendship ended on such a tragic note.

Yes, even better. I can play it like I am someone else. Then when all of this is over I can just never see him again. Maybe changing my name and hair color and mayor and maybe completely moving to Brazil to play volleyball at beaches would be a good idea. Drink fruity cocktails and work as a maid in hotels or something. I like volleyball and I definitely don’t want to be in this situation. 

“No, it’s definitely you.” His confused expression morphed into one of pure happiness and you knew there was no escaping.

Maybe if I think hard enough about sunny beaches and bikinis I won’t be here. I will just pow and be somewhere else. 

No, you could still hear the loud music resonating deep inside your bones.

Fuck, I am still here and not in Brazil, aren’t I?

“What was that? Where did you just go?” Poe smiled softly down at your seated form. His smile was so wide that wrinkles formed in the corners of his eyes.

God, his smile was always so infuriating, wasn’t it?

“What?” You must have looked terrified, eyes bulging out of its sockets and mouth wide open. No one had yet to notice your little disappearances to your head and Poe was definitely the last one in your mind to do so.

“It’s like you disappeared somewhere, just for a second.” The unsure expression returned but now was completed with a confused tilt of his head before it turned into a wolfish grin, amused by your shocked expression over the words that followed.

“Brazil.” The shriek came out of your throat without any agreement with your brain. This night just tried to prove how quickly things can go sideways, right? Maybe drinking wasn’t such a bad option, at least you wouldn’t remember any of this.

FUCK. What the fuck. Why did I say it out loud? FUCK.

Now you were completely panicking. Sweat pooled into the lines of your shirt, sticking it to your skin. An uncomfortable aura seeped inside and hardened in its core weighing you down on the sofa. And you knew, you knew if you couldn’t let go of this feeling you would crash down and cry in embarrassment. But if you could anchor it on to the harsh texture of the pillows you were propped upon and into the cloth of your seat, you could escape. You were sure of it.

“What?” He kept staring at you with his mouth slightly open and astonished at what he just heard. 

Yep. He definitely heard. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Brazil?” Poe always laughed loudly and with full force making him the center of everyone’s attention. And you couldn’t blame them. It was Poe, handsome, friendly and funny Poe that was always a sweetheart. Well, not always really.

Mission abort. He knows of Brazil. There is no safe haven now. 

You had to get out, now and quickly, otherwise you might smother yourself with one of the nasty cushions from the sofa. It didn’t seem like an effective tactic in your head either but currently it was a very appealing idea. But instead you reloaded the escape route in your mind and activated the plan.

“No, it’s nothing. Eh-, sorry, got lost in thoughts for a bit.” Starting to slowly gather all your things ready to leave and Poe sensed you were getting ready to run. Your tactic was completely ineffective and so he continued talking, knowingly observing you.

“Oh. Yeah-” Before you could have said goodbye to him and run for your life, more like a sanity and what you deemed to be a leftover pride, he spoke again. “You look fantastic by the way, I mean you always did but wow.” You could literally hear a small laugh escape his lips.

This stopped you, you were aware that you went through a massive glow up since high school. You didn’t really wake up one day with clean skin, an actual ton of work was put into the process of your transformation. 

There were always these memories of your aunties calling you pretty. One time at some family member’s b’day celebration one of them approached you, to this day you were not sure if she was from your dad’s side or mom’s and at this point it is too embarrassing to ask. She was one of those cooler aunties, the one that gave the best gifts and to whose attention and favoritism kids in the family sort of fought over.

“You haven’t changed at all, sweetheart. Still such a cute face.” She laughed with her hand in which she was holding a glass of wine swinging around your shoulder to hug your side. 

“Sure, auntie.” At that time you dismissed it completely, ‘cause you knew that your skin was clearer, you had your nails done and wore a cute little dress. However, you didn’t feel even an ounce prettier than if you wore big hoodies with greasy hair. You didn’t love yourself enough then. It changed, at least a bit, you got more confident since high school and more comfortable with your own visage and body.

“You didn’t think it before.” You were unable to look at him but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of avoiding his gaze, so you stared right through him, right through his stupid face and strong chest at what you imagined would be a yellowish white wall behind him.

“What?”

“Nothing, eh-,” Standing up from the sofa, you check if you have everything in your pockets and haven’t lost anything in the cushioned sofa while getting up,” I should get going, bye.” A convulsing smile held in place as you started to speed walk away. Away from Poe, away from the nasty carpet and smelly sofa, away from Jessica kissing a boy in the kitchen, you just signaled to her that you were going home, and away from the stupid house. 

“Woah, wait up!” 

Fuck, of course he is following me.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“If you did- if you did something wrong?!”

“Yeah?” His voice slightly trembled, unsure what to say, you could feel the tension. And so you kept on pushing through the crowd, advancing in your escape plan.

“You don’t know.” It was more of a statement, with no emotion attached to it. You didn’t feel anything or so you thought. In reality you were too busy trying to get to the hall with the entrance door to comprehend what it actually meant. Until it really downed on you. “You don’t remember.”

And so you got ready to remind him.

“You called me ugly, you laughed and said you couldn’t have a crush on someone like me.”

“When?”

“Gosh.” You signed obnoxiously just to try to annoy him a bit. “Since when do you think we are not friends anymore, Poe?”

“That’s what it’s all about?” You could hear his loud huff just like his stomping feet behind you trying to keep up before you escaped his grasp. “You are seriously mad over something so dumb?”

“It’s not dumb. It was important to me. It still is.” You were now grabbing your jacket from the hanger trying to avoid stumbling into the drunk pair going back inside from their cigarette break. “You laughed at me, you laughed at the idea of me being your girlfriend.” You didn’t care anymore if others could hear you, if someone heard and told other people, you didn’t care that tomorrow people could talk about what they heard. You just had to get it off your chest.

“Well what was I supposed to say?!” This made you stop in tracks, right on the porch of the frat house. Music is still loud and booming in your head. The overwhelmed feeling was yet to be gone and Poe wasn’t helping it much.

“I don’t KNOW!? Maybe that it’s true? That you really like me?” You gave him a pissed look making him pause before he shouted back causing you to turn back to the open street and march down again.

“I WAS A PREPUBESCENT BOY who wanted to be viewed as the cool guy!”

“So liking me meant not being cool?!” You were sure if the music from the house wasn’t booming even outside, people inside would be already gathering on the porch to watch the whole situation unfold.

“GOD no, seriously, woman. We were like 14! Boys that age don’t do crushes, at least not openly. And when Mikey asked me I was totally unprepared and just blurred it out ‘cause it was embarrassing to talk about, that’s all.” You still didn’t look back at him, marching down the street trying to escape.

“We definitely weren’t 14!” You screamed back, stopping in your tracks. Your cheeks were on fire and if you had any throwable object near you, you were sure it would already be chucked at his stupid face. For a second you even thought about using the rest of your strength you had after this night to pick a trash can and actually try to throw it at him. You were simply fuming, pissed beyond belief with your face completely hot and you hated it. Poe really got the best and worst out of you.

“We were DEFINITELY 14!” 

Oh, you were so done with him. Mr. Perfect, Mr. I can’t admit I was an asshole. No, THAT I still am an asshole actually. There was something boiling within you, something horrible and ugly trying to get out on the surface. You wanted him to regret making you feel stupid, making you feel ashamed of yourself. You wanted to scorch him so he would be ashamed for what he did to you, to his best friend. 

Ex-best friend now, actually. You have been his ex-best friend for a very long time now. It has been years and it still hurts and you wished something so stupid and childish wouldn’t hurt but oh my god, you could hold grudges. You wished you wouldn’t get mad at him, that you would just laugh or cry for a bit and then make up over ice cream or something. You wished you could look at Poe and be happy and not hurt inside over something so fucking stupid. And so you turned away from him and with a great speed started to walk down the street again.

“I am like, super sure of it!” He screamed behind you making you turn to him once again. Pissed expression setting on your face. Of course he was so sure of it, this arrogant buffalo was always so full of himself and self righteous in an annoying way. He couldn’t even let you cry, let you have some peace with your own stupidity. “Yeah? And why is that, asshole?” You stared at him straight and hard, ready for another argument to begin. 

“You had braces. In 8th grade,” He, just like you, was completely out of breath and slowing down to check his breath right back up,” you had blue braces.” Poe’s outstretched finger was now pointing at you while his other hand was gripping his knee, his whole figure crouched while he lapped at the cold air surrounding you both.

And you would rather die than to admit that Dameron was correct but he was. You really did have braces in 8th grade and you hoped a fabulous glow up would come with taking them off the next grade. When they did finally come off, acne started to pop on your cheeks so no glow up even for that year or the year after and then it was a sort of illusion that hid in your head.

“And I thought you were pretty cute with them.”

Oh. OH.

That was not something you ever saw coming. You didn’t feel cute, at least as far as you could remember. You felt like an ugly duckling and very awkward all the time, uncomfortable in your own skin.

“And then you got hot…,”Poe swung his left hand right on his face, clutching his forehead in frustration before calming down and sliding it across his hair with a quiet end of his sentence being muttered under his breath,”like awfully hot over the summer break.”

Is he fucking with me?

But he continued even though his hands were shaking, if it was the cold or his own embarrassment/frustration you couldn’t tell. “And I just couldn’t understand like- like why no one didn’t snatch you up yet.” If you haven’t noticed how muscular his arms were or how the veins on his hands seemed to tighten before, you were sure you knew of them now. His arms were now stretched out, gripping behind his neck with elbows in the air above his head. If anyone saw you two, they would have thought how nonchalantly Poe looked but up close he was the definition of rubber band ready to snap. Not in anger but frustration. You could see his long fingers digging into the tan skin burning it into a white that turned red moments later. The flush silently spread on the rest of his skin, not just neck, cheeks and tips of his ears followed.

“-and then I was sure guys like Jake…You remember Jake, right? That horrible basketball guy with that mole on his chin. He must have noticed because you like…” He stops his blabbering just to stare at you with newfound intensity. And then he does it, motions to his chest, no, to his t-shirt riding up.

But you didn’t completely understand what he was insinuating and so he continued, trying to explain it all to you. “In PE, it was too hot, the sun was blazing, it was like- like the hottest spring ever and you took off that big hoodie, the one you had always on you, in the middle of the volleyball game. And it was like a few years after we stopped hanging out but I was still thinking about you-“

Poe noticed the hoodie, god, how you hated the hoodie after all those years. It was baggy and unwashable from all your kneading of the fabric in your sweaty hands. It once resembled a safe haven, however, it slowly became a mark of your teenage years sucking ass. 

”- and here you were standing in PE class all sweaty in tight t-shirt and you weren’t just girl, you were like a woman or something and I got-”

“You got hit in the face with the ball!” The sound of your surprise resonating in the empty street not hidden by the gusts of biting cold air. You remembered that you chastised yourself for the next few years for taking the hoodie off even though you were sweating buckets. You just felt so out of your skin by it. Even the fact that you loved playing volleyball couldn’t save you, you still felt embarrassed, only a few years later you realized it was kinda stupid. But you remembered something. Poe, Poe with his bloody nose and spaced out expression standing in the court, diagonally in front of you across the net. 

“I got hit right into my face, Ben fucked up his set and the ball went flying across the net and just boinged me straight into my face while I was-,” he gulped but then his face grazed a boyish grin that slowly spread,” cause I was still thinking about the skin, y’know.” 

“Skin?” You were lost in your own thoughts again, over Poe, over the feelings you had now and used to have and- Poe was looking at you sheepishly, completely halting you in your thought process.

And there it was again. Poe’s fingers skimmed over the fabric of the t-shirt he was wearing, riding it slowly up until you could see his hardened stomach staring back at you.

 “God, stop. I know what you mean.” You had to look away. The heat spread onto your cheeks and slowly trailed down your throat and chest, keeping you warm. If Poe was handsome in highschool, college only gave him more mature charm, sculpting him with sharper jaw and tighter muscles than before.

“Why did you ask then?”

“I don’t know.” You murmured, causing him to laugh for a bit before you followed. The both of you laughed like silly kids, like you used to laugh together.

This was not the end of his rant, it was only the begging, he just kept on talking and talking and your head was swimming in all the hidden affection and fascination he had held to his heart all over those years for you just until now. Just until now when it all bubbled out, spilling at your feet and begging for recognition of the old passion and lust. And your heart was now hoping to hear some more.

“Do you still like me?” You gave him a sheepish look before returning your gaze back to the pavement under your feet as if not paying attention to what he was going to say. Still hoping for a miracle.

“Honestly?” He lifted one eyebrow at the question, giving you a sort of amused side eye, he looked at you briefly, trying to catch you looking at him.

“Honestly.” What a blatant lie on your part, two in one night. You had no need and place for honesty if there was nothing left of those feelings. If there was nothing, no flame for you to reignite there was no room for such honesty, especially not when you were now burning so much.

Please love me, adore me. I need it and I crave it more than air. I crave attention and love, I was never loved enough and maybe you could be the one.

“I don’t know. I mean… It has been a while since we even talked. Maybe you are freaking annoying or you chew really loudly now.” 

Oh.

Of course… that’s…understandable, I guess. 

But you had to keep yourself in high spirits, there was nothing for you to do after all. He was right, it was such a long time to the point you didn’t know anything about him. The remaining fact was his boyish charm was now completed with tight muscles and strong shoulders and you wouldn’t be against dating someone like him. Not knowing the first thing about him seemed to be no stopping line in your mind when it came to handsome guys like him. And on top of that this was Poe, the friendly little neighbor of yours that was always so ready to help with everything everytime. 

“Same could be said about you, y’know.” So, you began walking again, having the need to occupy your legs and calm down the need for pacing around but Poe was still right behind you, keeping up.

“Yeah-yeah, you are right.” He chuckles under his breath, giving you enough confidence to speak again.

“Do you?” Turning back to him, face to face ready to hear his answer. Maybe all of it could come back if you looked into his eyes long enough. Maybe Poe could look at you and adore you once again. The old desperation to be loved was after all still a kindling, ready to be a fire again.

“Hm?” He was not looking at you. The wind was harsher and he was not looking at you. And the wind got stronger and stronger and he was still not looking at you. At this point your hair was violently swinging around like a veil obscuring your view of his imposing figure. And when the bitter winter air gust settled his eyes finally lifted up from the dirty pavement.  Chocolate eyes gazing right at you, confusion weighting on his eyebrows and slightly open mouth complementing the image. 

“Chew loudly.” Corners of your mouth were twitching, ready to be lifted and smile at this adorable silly man. 

“I don't know… probably not?” His eyes were shining again and you felt warmth spreading inside you as if the cold winter around you had already ended and spring was in a full bloom.” No one really complained about me chewing loudly yet. But you know… it's me, so.” He just shrugged, sticking his hands in the pockets of the jacket. At this moment you were already a few streets away from the party where it all started. The start of the fight absolutely decimated by what followed in the name of childhood crushes and awkward realization of time passing and situations changing and the fact that both of you settled into a not so awkward small talk and still felt warmth of the other one’s present..

“Oh, there you go again.” You rolled your eyes at him with a dramatic sigh following closely all in a good sense of teasing.  God, it was Poe, adorable but still so cocky Poe.

“What?” He laughed loudly, the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes adorably boyish. This feeling was so familiar, just like when you were kids and could laugh about anything.

“The smug smile again.” You pointed out, one of your hands pulling out of the heavy jacket’s pocket you decided to wear tonight to quickly point your finger at his face.

“I am not smug.”

“You are.” You murmured it under the breath almost sure he didn’t hear it. 

“Yeah, I kinda am.” Were his dimples always so prominent? Was Dameron also so soft with you? You were sure he was, it fitted him like a tailored suit.

“You hurt me, y’know. It was really awful to hear the popular guy in class say it. Especially like that. And I think it hurt even more knowing it was you, that it wasn’t just some popular guy. It was you, Poe, my Poe.” You had to get a sort of closure on this, it couldn’t be erased but it could be understood and put in a box to be forgotten.

“I am so sorry, sweetheart.”

“I like you. Well, I liked you.” At those words his breath hitched or you thought you heard it do so. 

“Oh.” You could feel him staring again, so many stares given to you in one night so many years later. His gaze not faltering for even a second before he finally turned away.

 “I really fucked up that time right?” There was a pregnant pause before he could get the words out. Now completely aware of his mistakes just like you were of yours. Two silly idiots realizing how both of them fucked up but wanting to mend old wounds.

“Hm.” You hummed in acknowledgement, not really knowing what more to say to him. 

 “God, I wish I could strangle my past self and just yell at him and shit. Your crush likes you back, so like- DON’T fuck it up, y’know?” And while those words escaped between you he did the weirdest gesture, as if he didn’t know what to do with his hands. A motion of holding someone's neck shaking his hands while gripping at air. He looked absolutely ridiculous, but in the end he was just trying to make you laugh. That was what he always did when the two of you were fighting as kids.

“Hm.” His blabbering worked like a magic, small smile appearing on your face as if out of spell before you glanced at him.

“We could try again?” That wasn’t something you had anticipated, no, you actually kinda hoped for it but didn’t want to get disappointed. Poe must have sensed it and was wearing this stupid upside grin just for your smile to stay in place.

 “Not completely, of course. But like new me and new you being friends again kind of repeat?” There was no way for you to prevent the smile widening at your face, cheeks almost hurting how hard you tried not to grin.

“Does it make sense?” His eyebrow now furrowed in a pensive state. “No, I probably worded it badly, wait-, I think-” Poe Dameron was blabbering and he was so cute while doing so. But you needed to stop him and so you helped him by answering before he would get lost in the maze of his own words. “I would love that.”

“Good”. Again, the sheepish smile you so loved seeing on his face, giving Poe more of that boyish charm you were used to. You could feel his gaze now unintentionally slipping away from you for the first time in the night. It didn’t feel right. It felt colder now, as if the sun was no longer beaming at you. And then you have realized. He had seen you the whole time, even at the time you thought there was not much worth seeing. 

And for a moment you were sure there was no going back to being friends with him because you simply couldn’t. Because when he looked at you with a stare not leading thousand miles away from you but here with you, really staring at you. You couldn’t not feel the warmth and you couldn’t stop thinking about him holding your hand and more and you knew it was absolutely crazy. It was so crazy ‘cause you haven’t talked to each other properly since maybe early years of highschool and you didn’t really know him anymore. But you knew the little Poe, your Poe and you knew the idea of Poe you wanted and now you knew the Poe in front of you, at least a bit, and you also knew in the end you couldn’t give up.

You were called back into reality with a loud ringing sound, like an alarm waking you up from a dream. Harsh, loud and causing you to freaking out. By the time you were present again Poe was already fumbling with his jacket’s pocket. 

“Sorry.” You almost didn’t hear those words being mumbled. You were too concentrated on Poe and his furrowed brow with little line forming in between them. 

His hand finally gripped the small device pulling it free from the fabric. He looked quickly at the screen and scolded, probably not so keen to answer the caller but he did it anyway. And before he could talk, you could hear yelling over loud music.“Oi! Poe, we are looking for you!” 

Oh, these must be Poe’s friends.

“Sorry,” He laughed again, this night was truly so full of his laughter and you liked it too much.“I met an old friend from high school and we are catching up, you know how it gets.” He looked up at you and smiled before distancing himself a few steps away.

“Get your stupid ass back to the party, asshole!” This time it was the voice of some woman, she was loud, trying to yell over the music and probably standing a bit away from the phone of the caller.

“Hm, I don’t think I will,” he turned your way with a smile, thinking you didn’t hear what his friend yelled over the phone,”I have a lot of catching up to do.” He told her softly and that was the last thing you could hear before he walked a bit away. He traced the line of the sidewalk mindlessly swinging his other arm while he kept talking on the phone. And then he finally ended the call with a silent bye.

Eh?

Poe would really rather spend time with me and catch up or argue over the past than be with his friends?

You expected him to end your talk as soon as he answered the phone, leaving you in the ice cold street and running back to the party to get drunk with his buddies. But he really did decline the offer just so he could spend more time with you.

“Ah, it was too cheesy, sorry.” He wasn’t apologetic at all, you could clearly tell by the wolfish grin. 

He first fumbled with his phone for a bit, it looked like he turned off notifications on it, before he put it back into his pocket. And then was all his attention on you again, making your insides twist in a happy feeling.

“So, what’s this Brazil thing about?”

FUCK!

Scratch the happy part; it was only nervousness now.

“Is it your little quirk?” And now he was staring at you fully again, making you squint in your clothes, not completely uncomfortable just not used to it. Some part of you even loved it, all the attention Poe gave you in the last what? 30minutes? Super fan of it. You couldn’t get enough. 

God, I hope this never ends. I hope some divine power can just put me into a loop where he is staring at me and smiling and all over again. I love this feeling more than anything. Wait, what was he saying?

“You know, your chewing loudly thing.” He tapped your elbow with his to catch your attention again. His eyes saying Come on, don't get lost on me. Waiting patiently for you to get your head straight.

“Oh.”

Oh. He is still really funny. 

“Yeah. Sort of?” Laugh escaped your lungs again, you were not sure yourself. Quirks were supposed to be kinda funny, right? Well, chewing loudly is not kinda funny so not really. “Yeah, I guess? I am not really sure actually.” Another laugh this time ripping right from your heart, nervous and twitching, ready to be swatted away as unwanted. 

“Cool.”

Oh. 

And there it was again. The incredible warmth spreading inside, anxiety turning from hard cold ice into a puddle and evaporating away over the heat Poe created in you.

Maybe it could actually work. Yeah, let’s try again. 

[captain-nohbo]

Random Sampo Headcanons

Because he gives me brain rot. Honestly more structured like ramblings.

I like to think he makes all of his disguises himself because it leaves less loose ends when trying to get costumes

After Natasha realized this she starts dragging him into her stuff toy making hobby as their quiet hand out time

Natasha and Sampo first met because he was stealing from the medical school when Natasha was still getting her doctorate. Patching him up from his first amateur dumpster diving attempt was what he considers the first favor he owes her for

Natasha happen to be the one who taught him to do make up and that led to Sampo's personal rabbit hole of crossdressing

Sampo has a big soft spot for people who in some way try to bring joy into other peoples lives rather than take it aware for self benefit

Definitely part of the reason he sticks around wildfire. I think he finds their work entertaining even if he's not technically officially part of it

Despite everything, I like to think he respects at least Gepard and Bronya out of people in the Silvermane Guards

Sampo is a masked fool but I like to think that in some way he is actually from belabog, whether it be used to go by a different name or one of his parents are before getting there

Most in Belabog people think that Sampo is a hedonist or a nihilist due to his mannerism or otherwise, but the guy is more like an absurdist trying to better his life and Aha finds it way too funny that he follows two different paths to care what he does

Honestly the guy gives Doctors of Chaos energy on top of everything else he has going on. It's the nothing that drives him to make something out of the time he has, but it's specifically the want for enjoyment of his life that still has Aha's eyes on him

Not very traditional when it comes to the ways of the Masked Fools and maybe even a little upset that there is a specific they try to get him to live his life

Does actually want to stop the shader sides of business and run a normal shop or trades company but he doesn't think it's realistic for himself so he just dreams

If he got his record clean I can Genuinely see him be part of the a Silvermane Guard Intelligence Officer, but Sampo is also the type if guy to keep denying the position tille "forced" to do so

Natasha absolutely forced Sampo to learn at least basic first aid after first finding out what kind of job the man has. He originally tried to get out of it, but caved when she says "I just want to make sure you are able to come back home"

While the clinic isn't his residence, Sampo most definitely sets up one of the spare rooms almost like he lives there. It slowly became a thing that is someone in Boulder Town want to talk to him for more legal reasons that they just ask Natasha to pass on the message to him

"Payment" for staying in the clinic is being another set of hands on the busier days. At least runs supplies and medicine if patients aren't too comfortable with him getting near their pockets. When Seele first saw Sampo running around she thought he was up to something and asked Nat. "Don't worry he's just paying backt he favor he owes me. He knows better than to try anything."

Sampo and Natasha are probably one of eachothers only long term friends. Both are usually too busy to spend time with the other, but they do quiet wind down days together where they just get food and chat.

Sampo only really let's people call him nicknames if they are Close Close to him. He rather likes his name and doesn't like people messing with it for the sake of convince especially since he worked hard to make it known. Oleg and Nat are some of the only people who get to call him Poe

Big fan of calling anyone literally anything other than their proper name. Whether it is a personal nick name or pulled from his bag of pet names. It's his way to try and get people to easy up around him when he's trying to make a deal.

Specifically calls Natasha "Tasha" in smaller crowds, Gepard "Geppie" or "Gep", and once got beat up by Serval for trying to call her "vally"

Sampo and Natasha are something like Qpp from just knowing eachother so long and being constant presence with eachother. Despite how busy their lives get Sampo does make time to check in on her

The type of bisexual that is very distinguish till he can tell he really likes a person or even maybe reciprocate him and becomes a disaster out of not being used to it. Stays in disbelief for the first few months of any serious relationships he gets in.

He gives me the brand of Polyam that will stay mono if his partner wants him too, but it FEELS wrong to him not to, but wouldn't want to damage anyone's trust in him when he finally has some. Tries to find partners that are actually fine with him being polyam, but the past rejection are wearing on him

Audhd as fuck and late diagnosis too. Nat pointed it out to him after a year of knowing eachother and Sampo's reaction was just "you know... that explains a LOT"

Specifically the type of autistic that's good at picking up social skills because of the patterns or because while it doesn't make sense to him it feels more like a game that he is playing rather than an actual interaction he understands the nuances of

Actually got really good at long term hustles and heists because he feels deeply uncomfortable without the sense of structure and has a hard time recovering from them when they go wrong which were his closest calls

Once got really upset when one of his regular restaurants changed the recipe for his usual and bothered to bribe the chef to change it back because "its the little things we find joys in, let's keep it that way"

Sampo is the kind of Adhder that is actually really smart but the lack of impulse control and the constant need to move with no way to cope got him in a lot of trouble when he was younger

Definitely been doing a lot better since realizing he has both and started taking meds for the Adhd and depression

On the rare occasions him and Gepard are peaceful with eachother before becoming friends they both would subconsciously mirror the others stim and it got more intense as they actually became friendly

Sensory seeking as fuck. Part of the reason he enjoys the chase so much. Definitely almost developed an addiction because of it though

Gets along with kids pretty well just doesn't really know how to teach the concept of responsibility to them. Particularly because he had a weird childhood. Got better after Nat kept on dragging him to help her

I'm going to cut it off here for now, but I'll probably make doodles of some of these

[possum-quesadilla]

The last chapter of Time is a Flat Circle is up! So sorry in advance. (No I’m not.) Be sure to read the trigger warnings and tread carefully! This one is a doozy!

Here are the details for this specific chapter! Time is a Flat Circle as a whole will have a “post mortem” itself before Part 2 comes out. If you have any questions you’d like answered, send them my way!

- The lyrics from this chapter’s title is from “This Woman’s Work” by Kate Bush! Heavily inspired by a scene using a song in “Our Flag Means Death”, I listened to this song endlessly while writing this chapter. I believe it fits it so well for obvious reasons.

- “His senses weren’t overly reactive, recently. It was easier to spend more time outside, or among the humans’ excited chatter. It was nice. It made them feel… not peace, but a lack of unease.” - he is experiencing overstimulation less and less due to the humans helping him have access to accommodations!

- “(where the hell even was “Miskatonic University”?)” - This is a reference to H.P. Lovecraft’s work, since it inspired Beetlejuice’s last name, but also more to the movie “Re-Animator”! It kicks a lot of ass if you can stomach it. Check the trigger warnings before watching. Highly regarded in the trans autistic community.

- Beej’s favorite pizza toppings being pepperoni and mushrooms is a reference to That Beautiful Sound!

- “one of the “fidgets” she was particularly fond of; a singular key of a keyboard.” - This is based on my favorite fidget!

- “Can you even blush?” - He can!

- “ the gaudy floral wallpaper.” … “the tackily patterned yellow wallpaper. (How repellent. How dull.)” - The appearance of the wallpaper and the way Beetlejuice describes it is taken straight from one of my absolute favorite horror short stories, “The Yellow Wallpaper” by Charlotte Perkins Gilman!

- “I promised I’d get you all out of this, and ‘m a… thing of my word.” - Taken straight from my own vernacular. I’m not a man or a woman of my word, so I say “thing” as a joke!

- “Hot damn!” - this is a reference to one of my favorite “Brooklyn-99” cold opens.

- The TV show Barbara and Lydia start while the boys are busy with the model is “The Fall of the House of Usher”, which is one of my absolute favorite shows ever. It is an amalgamation of Edgar Allen Poe’s stories! Lydia would go nuts, I think.

- As Adam states, Beetlejuice has very sensitive eyes! They’re built for darkness, so they don’t know how to handle an abundance of light properly. Also, the sensory nightmare of ‘sun in your eyes’ sucks.

- “Gardening with Barbara was like a short dream conjured up from a summer afternoon nap.” - Although altered, this comparison is taken straight from my absolute favorite story Stephen King has ever written: “Laurie”. It is phenomenal. Highly recommend you listen to MrCreepyPasta’s reading of it.

- The soup Beetlejuice helped make was loaded potato soup! One of my favorites.

- “It should be a comfort, shouldn’t it? No one else got a chance like this, to have the precious moments mapped out, to have their time left set in stone.” - This is taken straight from my own thoughts. As someone with many chronic illnesses and a projected shortened lifespan, this is something I often tell myself.

- “after he’d wrapped her up in blankets and tossed her onto her bed.” - Fun sibling activities! My older brother used to love to wrap me up tightly and toss me across the room onto my bed. I also loved it.

- “I don’t keep anything strong on me after Adam freaked out about my flask.” - My version of Adam has trauma related to alcoholism/substance abuse. Beej took his concerns seriously and stashed away most of his ’goods’.

- “ “There is no… other side for me.” He gently squeezed her hand. “This is it.” ” - This is, of course, one of the hardest lines ever written, from “BoJack Horseman”. Made me bawl my eyes out when I first heard it, and I bawled again writing it into my fic.

- The various smells!

- Black tea and perfume - this has already been addressed! Beetlejuice mentioned how Barbara smells like iced tea and perfume a few times before.

- Isopropyl alcohol and tung oil - aftershave and woodworking materials!

- Vinegar-y chemicals and formaldehyde - Lydia has traces of photo-treatment chemicals on her. And she likes taxidermy things.

- Beetlejuice’s reaction to being called sweet is a direct mirror of my own. I have no idea how to respond to being called kind and such and act all grumpy.

- On the “diagnosed” conversation - everyone but Beetlejuice knows that that’s about. Lydia has been diagnosed with a few things as well! Perhaps we will get into it in Part 2?

- “The evening passed at the speed of a dream. Dinner, dishes, laughter. Pajamas, blankets, rounds of Clue and tossed game pieces.” - This is meant to parody General Gibson’s speech in “Asteroid City”. Specifically when he says, “twenty years passed at the speed of a dream. A wife, a son, a daughter, a poodle.” This movie literally altered my brain chemistry, no hyperbole. It will be referenced again.

- “Eric is returning to his grave.” - This is meant to be foreshadowing for Beej’s plan!

- “Lydia suggested they watch “The Exorcist”. Despite the Maitlands being terrified of the film, they stuck around to watch it. But the humans did not make it to the ending. They fell asleep huddled together, all pressed up against the demon’s sides. “God damn you, take me!” It wasn’t so funny this time around.” - This has a few layers; it’s referring to how movie Beetlejuice has seen “The Exorcist” 167 times, and says it gets funnier every time. The scene that is being quoted is when the priest character, Karras, tells the demon to take him instead of the girl it’s possessing. He then jumps out the window to kill the demon along with himself. For obvious reasons, this is not quite as funny to Beej anymore. (And, I mean, it’s about an exorcism. And he is dreading an upcoming exorcism. Not fun!)

- “How exquisitely stupid. How perfectly splendid.” - These are both references to two of my favorite pieces of horror media. The first is from “Nope”, the second is from “The Haunting of Bly Manor”.

- “They tried, desperately, to hold it all within their grasp, to savor it, to hold it close. But it’s hopeless. The last day with their BFFF passes like sand through his fingers.” - This is meant to be a reference to “So Long” by Tokyo Elvis, which was the song for one of the previous chapters!

- “7pm arrives like a thief in the night, sure and swift and inevitable.” - the phrase “like a thief in the night” is from “The Masque of Red Death” by Edgar Allen Poe. Lydia’s love of the poet is rubbing off on him!

- “He empties out their belongings from his hammer space and leaves them in tidy piles in the basement.” - this is a reference to a line from Mitski’s “The Last Words of a Shooting Star”, which was almost the song for this chapter. The lyrics it references are “And I am relieved that I'd left my room tidy, They'll think of me kindly, When they come for my things”

- The scene where Lydia calls Beetlejuice “BugBeverage” is meant to parallel the goodbye hug they exchanged at the end of the musical, just somewhat reversed!

- “Of all the billions of breathers that coulda seen me and said my name, I’m so glad it was you.” - this is meant to be a homage to a very impactful scene in “Fantastic Mr. Fox”. Shout out to all my fellow autistics that this movie made cry.

- “W-Wiggog Y-” - This is a cheeky reference to Wiggly from the Hatchetfield Universe! I have my own Tickle-Me-Wiggly!

- “I bid you, full foul in your fury, to smother this profane blight with your icy cull,” - This is a rephrasing of one of the best monologues ever from the best movie of all time, “The Lighthouse”. (I have seen it 103 times. I am not joking.) The original lines were, “rise from the depths full foul in his fury!” And “smother this young mouth with pungent slime”

- “His feet shifted, teeter-toter- Deep breath, it’s time.” - Taken from “The View from Halfway Down”, a poem read on “BoJack Horseman” from the same episode as the other quote in this chapter. It is a haunting, distressing poem from the perspective of someone who has jumped off a bridge to commit suicide, but regrets it halfway down. I thought it was extremely thematically relevant here.

- “Morning Frost.” - Morning Frost is a creation of my own. It’s a play on the ‘Morningstar’, or Lucifer, the original demon. The original head honcho of the Netherworld. Not much is known about them by Beej, so we are too for now! The only way to kill a creature born of hellfire is to freeze out that fire.

- “Heart. Lungs. Liver. Nerves.” - This is taken from a similar scene in “Slay The Princess”, one of my favorite games ever!! A horrific timeloop, a twisted romance. I won’t spoil anything, but the character saying this is doing so to keep his body from shutting down, like Beetlejuice. I say this to myself over and over again sometimes when I’m having a panic attack and it’s helped!

- “They hope it’ll lull them safely into a gentle goodnight.” - this is a reference to a famous poem, “Do not go gentle into that good night” by Dylan Thomas.

- The feeling of warmth returning is a bad thing, which is why Adam freaks out more when he notices! One of the last stages of hypothermia is feeling incredibly warm and stopping shaking. There’s also disorientation and confusion, hence why Beej can’t talk or think quite straight after this point.

- A fun little lesson on treating hypothermia from the Deetz-Maitlands! Warm the neck and core with blankets, get heated blankets if possible, and give them warm, sweet beverages. Starting to shake again is a great sign.

- “… he couldn’t let them see him as he was) and stepped forward to greet the pair, shaking on his humanoid illusions and Ghost with the Most persona.” - Beeltejuice is afraid that he can’t take anything back now. He wants to make a good impression on Charles and Delia. Sucks to suck, buddy!

If you’ve made it this far, wow… thank you! This monster of a fic wouldn’t be possible without the serotonin boost every like, comment, and FANART (still can’t believe that one) sent my way. Thank you so much. Can’t wait for Part 2! I will add hints and teasers for what’s to come in the Post Mortem. I’m going to keep working on my crochet sandworm now.

[luvtonique]

Man, Reddit sure is a place.

Now I think Social Media in general is a cancer, like an absolutely worthless piece of the internet and society as a whole that has set us back literally thousands of years in terms of any kind of actual social interaction.

So I'm going in with a bias here.

Mind you I think communication platforms like Discord or phones are fine, it's Social Media I'm talking about. Twitter, Tumblr, Reddit, etc.

But I'm actually completely baffled by Reddit.

I don't usually post there, I posted the Bestia mod for Binding of Isaac there, and got a lot of praise, and a lot of hate at the same time.

But earlier today I decided to give some creative criticism of a part of the current Path of Exile league that I noticed tons of players were complaining about. I thought I'd give a bit of constructive criticism on how I, with no game design experience mind you, would have handled the issue.

TLDR: The new mechanic just makes enemies "harder" by padding their stats. Attack speed, health, movement speed, damage, all of those just go up. There you go. Difficulty. My suggestion was to instead give them additional attacks that cast from their location, and gave 9 examples of different types of them, all with their own risk/reward elements involved and even suggestions on how a player would regularly counter those attacks.

As a result of my post, the PoE Subreddit instantly downvoted my post multiple times, currently sitting at a 13% upvote rate with 1000 views, and the comment section is just full of people cussing me out and calling me a dumbass, and even saying such smug shit as "Oh yeah those are great ideas now just go get the incredibly overworked developers to implement your precious idea because it's soooo much better than the ideas of game developers with 10 years of experience working on this game"

And I am fucking floored. Not one, not a single one person had anything constructive to add, any counter points, any form of discussion other than "Fuck off with your ideas."

I am just completely shocked over here, laughing my ass off as more and more these angry manchildren scream and rage in the comments. It's unbelievable.

I know I already have a bias against Social Media in general but this is unfuckingbelievable, this is what Social Media is, it's just a place to cuss strangers out, contribute nothing to a discussion, and act smug.

How the fuck do y'all revolve your lives around this shit?