#BB is coming down to the wire

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One

The drive's short one. 

Steve gets out of his car, opening the passenger door for Chrissy and escorting her up to the house, quietly envisioning what Jason would look like if a real monster got him.

What would he say, staring down the crazy, five-starred head, filled with teeth and drool? Would he turn back? Or run?

(Steve swears he doesn't take great pleasure in imagining Carver getting eaten, but he'll admit to taking a little.)  

"Chrissy do you have any idea--oh." Mrs. Cunningham startles, grasping her robe at the front as she spots Steve standing next to her daughter.  

"Hi Miss Cunningham." He says.

"Hello." She says suspiciously. "And who are you?"

"I'm Steve Harrington, ma'am." He watches as her mother straightens immediately at his name, and sinks right into the ol' Harrington charm, knowing instantly it will work. "I know you were expecting Jason, but I'm afraid he wasn't able to drive Chrissy home." 

"Oh, Steve! It's so late I almost didn't recognize you." She titters, suspicion gone. "Your mother and I are on the same charity board." 

Of course they were.

"I thought you were dating that nice Nancy girl." She says with a squint that mimics Chrissy's, because even in the midst of a crisis he can't escape the gossip that is Hawkins upper echelon. 

"Nance is waiting in the car." Steve lies smoothly. "I just wanted to make sure Chrissy got home safe." 

"What happened?" Chrissy's father appears, ushering them both in while blatantly peering around them, eyes sweeping the street before closing the door.

Steve recognizes the move. He's checking for nosy neighbors. 

"Jason and I broke up." Chrissy admits.

"What?" 

"We..." She falters in front of her parents. 

"What happened to Jason?" Her father asks, tuning back in once they're safely away from peering eyes.

"I'm afraid Jason and some of his friends brought beer to the party." Steve steps in to explain.  

"Oh Chrissy, it's a high school party. That's no reason to break up with him." Her mother fusses, face flushing in embarrassment. Her eyes dart from her daughter to Steve and back, and Steve knows he needs to start damage control. 

If he plays it right he can burn Jason while he's at it. 

"He was horrible, mom. Just awful." Chrissy says, but Steve can tell she's shrinking under her mothers gaze. 

"He drank quite a lot, Miss Cunningham." With a theatrical wince, Steve turns to face Chrissy's dad, lowers his voice and says "I'm going to have to talk to Coach about it." 

He gets the intended response, which is a raised eyebrow. "That bad, huh?" 

Steve nods once, painting a pained smile on his face. "He made a real fool of himself tonight, Sir. The basketball team has a reputation to uphold." 

"Oh." Mrs. Cunningham says, hand fluttering in front of her face. "I never would have thought…"

"He's normally a good guy. I don't know what got into him." Steve has them both eating out of the palm of his hand, attention neatly off Chrissy and onto the story he's feeding them. 

Its worth it to see her shoulders relax. 

"I couldn't let him take Chrissy home in the state he was in Sir, and he got very…" 

Steve pauses. 

Fills his voice with tempered disappointment, channeling his dad. "Belligerent. Said some nasty things."  

"Really?" Mr. Cunningham says, with a low whistle, and Steve knows by his tone alone that he's bought in.

Hook, line, sinker.

Steve nods once. "I have to get back to my girlfriend, but Chrissy'" He turns earnestly here, to let her know he's not faking this next bit. "Let me know if Jason bothers you at school. I'll set him straight again if I have to." 

"Thank you Steve." Mr. Cunningham says, as Chrissy's mom hustles her daughter towards the kitchen. 

Steve shakes his hand, then waves at Crissy as she calls her own thank you over her shoulder, before disappearing out the door and back to his car.

The same one where Nancy very much isn't. 

That's a problem for tomorrow Steve.

xXx

Tomorrow Steve gets into an argument with Nancy. 

She can't recall that Jonathan took her home, or that he's bullshit, their whole relationship, bullshit--

But she also can't tell him she loves him.

So Steve snaps at her. Storms off.

 Play’s more basketball.

It takes less than two hours for him to get mopey and another three for him to spiral into deciding he was wrong somehow.

That's what his mom said all the time anyway, wasn't it? The man's always wrong Steven, and he's the man here so…

He gets flowers, chocolates, and fucking waylaid (by Dustin Henderson with his Grow a Monster) and things go sideways from there.

 Train tracks and a junkyard and demodogs make time speed up. An encounter with Billy and a dinner plate causes Steve's recollection of the evening to be fuzzy. 

He just knows that in the middle of dodging death, he has the realization that Nance wants to break up with him.

That he should let her. 

Even if it hurts, even if he doesn't want to. 

She wants to be let go.

So Steve does. He respects her, and when he has a moment after its all over, he tells her to go with Jonathan.

(At least he permanently gets the squirts out if this. Or at least everyone but Mike.

Even if most of them are shitheads and one of them's Hargrove's step sister.

It's--something.

But when Dustin keeps pestering him, demanding Steve drive him all over Hawkins and then drags him to the movies, well.

It might be the best something Steve's had in his life so far. )

xXx

"Oh shit. Is that from Caver?" Eddie asks, popping up near Steve's car like the clown in a jack in the box. 

"Carver can't hit for shit. This was Hargrove." Steve replies, attempting an eyeroll before remembering that his entire face is a bruise. 

One, giant, never ending bruise. 

"I guess his step sister gave him the slip to come hang out with these kids I watch sometimes. I didn't know she wasn't supposed to be there." Steve shrugs, because it's the technical truth. 

If you turn it sideways and squint anyway. 

"Asshole tried to threaten the kid Max is into by slamming him into a wall and screaming shit, so I stepped in, and--" He waves at his face. 

The same one he's already getting looks for. 

"I was winning." Steve sighs theatrically. "He broke a plate over my head."

The story seemed to freeze Eddie but he recovers with a quick shake of his head. 

"You poor thing." He tuts. "Let me guess--you were more worried about the hair than the wound?" 

Eddie's hands flutter like he's going to touch Steve's head but he seems to contain himself at the last minute.

The hospital threatened to buzz it for stitches." Steve says darkly, playing into the bit. 

(He had not gone to a hospital. 

None of them had.)  

"What would our King be without his crown of hair?" Eddie laments, in a falsetto that was half insult half oddly sincere. It was jarring in that it was hard to get a read on, but the more Steve was around the guy the less it seemed malicious and the more it came off  as just….goofy.

Eddie Munson, Steve decided, was not a freak.

 He was a dorky little weirdo, just like all the other kids Steve now hung out with. 

Just older, and with slightly better hair. 

"Hey Eddie." Another boy calls out, approaching cautiously. 

He's got a leather jacket on, and if Steve thinks hard enough he can sort of conjure up a memory of the guy at Eddie's lunch table, throwing a piece of bread at a pale sophomore decked out in plaid. "You good man?" 

"Yeah Jeff, just checkin' in on the Hair here." Eddie sticks a thumb towards Steve, who raises his hand and waves. 

The falsetto comes back, somehow higher as the older boy swoons over Steves arm. "Soothing his poor soul after that brute Hargrove almost killed him." 

"Has anyone ever told you you're a lot like Bugs Bunny?" Steve asks, the thought leaving his mouth the instant he had it.

(He doesn't care, it's a legitimate question.) 

It has the effect of making Munson look downright chuffed. "I have actually, but only by my Uncle." 

"Why are you checking in?" Jeff interrupts, before seeming to realize he said it out loud. " Ah, I mean--"

"Oh he didn't tell you?" Steve says, as casually as he can muster. "Eddie claimed me and Chrissy at a party last weekend." 

See Munson? Two people could play the weird bit game. 

They've attracted more of Eddie's friends now, two more boys in leather jackets edging closer like frightened deer. 

(One of which is the aforementioned younger man Jeff threw bread at, and Steve vaguely thinks the guy's name starts with a g.) 

"Apparently we're his minions now." Steve tells Jeff in a rather put upon manner. 

"It was just you, the fair maiden chose otherwise." Eddie counters dismissively, voice dropping down low. 

Steve snorts. Hums a sarcastic; "Like you'd let us choose." 

Eddie finally abandons whatever voice that was supposed to be (a villain, Steve thinks, and wonders if it hurts Eddies throat to drop from a false high to a deep low that quickly.)  to say:

 "Mock me all you like, Harrington, but you can't deny the bit worked." 

Steve automatically went for another eye roll, and gets a flash of pain for it. "Who said I was mocking you, you dork? Just stating facts." 

Yet again, Eddie reacts weird to the comment. He looks almost bashful for a second, before he recovers, tugging his hair in front of his face as he plays with it.

The bell rings once in warning, and Steve makes a face towards the doors. 

"I gotta go, Mrs Clicks out to fail me. See you around, Eddie. Jeff." The way his eyes are bruised up he can't quite make out the face Jeff makes at that, but Steve's pretty sure the guys mouth was open. 

"She's a nasty one, my minion, best stay on your toes around her." Eddie calls, and Steve waves a hand in the air to show he heard. 

"What just happened?" Jeff asks, far too loudly for how close Steve still is. 

It makes him chuckle a bit, even as one of the other guys says something in a far quieter voice that has Munson squawking and flapping his arms like a bird. 

The winding little feelings in his chest squeeze his heart, and Steve shakes his head, refusing to be fond of Eddie Munson. 

xXx

College rejection letters come in, one after the another.

Steve could have made it into a few schools he's certain, except he hadn't really applied to any.

Not that any college other than Penn Hurst mattered. His dad wanted him to be a legacy, come hell or high water.

Steve's punishment was hand picked by his parents, and he gets the sailor outfit his new minimum wage job requires is supposed to be a part of it--that his dad made him apply because it was the most embarrassing thing he could think to subject Steve too-- but honestly? 

It's not that bad. 

Not even with Robin, the manager he met yesterday, and who positively, completely and totally, hates Steve’s guts.  

He figures he has time to win her over. 

All the time in the world, now that demons aren't trying to eat his, or any of the kid's, faces. He can focus on the small things. Build himself back up.

Figure out the person he wants to be, now that he's no longer King Steve. 

It’s the thought that kept him from attending any graduation parties. To go felt like backsliding into old habits. 

‘If the kids--if it comes back again--’ 

Getting drunk at night in a random house seemed almost irresponsible.

Particularly not with people Steve has history with, without anyone he really cares about being present. Certainly not Nance and Jonathan, who he wishes he didn’t know are at some end-of-year game night one of Nancy’s friends is hosting. 

(Steve can’t think about that for a number of reasons. 

When he does--because of course he does-- he makes sure to focus on the weirdness that is Jonathan Byers being someone he cares about, instead of the fact he can’t seem to kill his love for Nancy. 

Or that he's horrifically jealous of their relationship. 

That the best sleep he had ever had was between them, two nights after the lab, when they crammed themselves into Jonathan's bed because they all couldn't quite believe it was over.

That night had been so incredibly weird, but grouping together felt safer. Smarter.

Better.

Not in a way Steve wants to put into words. 

Not in a way he wants to confront at all.) 

His parents hadn’t been able to make it home to watch him walk at his graduation--his father landing a last minute meeting with some important person or other. 

Faked apologies were given, money transferred, and Steve, not wanting to sit in his too-huge house, had meandered to Family Video. 

Tried to forget his father’s cold voice in the background of his mother’s call, loudly announcing he’d have made it a priority to see Steve graduate-- if he’d gotten into Penn Hurst. 

Steve just shakes his head. Pushes those thoughts into the back of his head, into the same place all his other weird thoughts live.

The glare he gets from the tall, pimple-ridden guy working the rental counter was expected.

Chrissy Cunningham, was not. 

"I thought you’d be at one of the parties.” He tells her, when he turns down the romance aisle and finds her staring blankly at a shelf. 

She startles, before recognition flits over her face and a warm smile is directed his way. 

“I'm honestly not a fan of parties." She confides in him, hand clutching a tape in her hands."Not those kinds, anyway.” 

"More slumber parties, less keg stands your speed?" Steve guessed, blatantly turning his head sideways in order to read the title.

She awards him with a wider smile. "Exactly." 

"Chrissy Cunningham. Are you renting Jaws?" He teases, leaning in just a touch.

She flushes, but turns and squares up to him. Steve's delighted to see it. 

"Why yes I am. I'll do you one better and even admit it's one of my favorite movies." 

Steve grins at her, and sees the way she lights up on response, eyes bright. 

This is the Chrissy that Carver had tried to kill. The strength and pure fun that radiates off her enhances the beauty she has to something almost otherworldly. 

Steve has seen enough beauty in his life to recognize when it will stay. That Chrissy wil one day be 80 years old, with gray hair and knit sweaters, and she'll still be able to light up a room. 

"Like sharks killing people that much huh?” He teases. And it’s easy, slipping into this part of himself around her. The part he’s been trying to get back. 

The confidence that he walked with, before monsters crawled out of the ground, and Nancy put a hole in his heart.

"I'll let you in on a secret. ." Chrissy leans in, dropping her voice low enough that Steve has to lean in a bit too to hear. "My favorite character is the shark." 

Steve playfully gapes at her, and for the first  time in a long time, feels like things will be okay. 

He’ll be okay.

He won’t be King Steve. He’s not Nancy's Boyfriend Steve either--but someone else. Himself.

A Steve who exists outside of Hawkins High, outside his family name. 

He likes it.

"I told you that was his car. Steve!" A too familiar voice calls and Steve can't mask the despair that hits him as he turns to his (now least) favorite shithead, whose storming through Family Video’s doors. 

"Dustin." He identifies, with an edge to his voice he can only pray Chrissy doesn't pick up on. "Other brats. What are you doing?" 

Mike stands stubbornly at Dustin's right, Lucas nervous at his left. 

Will Byers is situated next to Mike but Steve's not as familiar with him, and has no idea how to interpret the kid. 

If he had to guess based on the face he’s being sent, Will’s more nervous then the rest--but equally determined. 

(This does not make Steve feel better. It in fact, somewhat convinces them they’ve run headfirst back into trouble.) 

"Well we were going to go to Lucas’s, but now, we're bumming a ride from you!" 

"I'm busy." He says flatly. 

"Ste~eeeve!" 

"I didn't know you had a brother." Chrissy says, hand covering her mouth. 

Looking back at her, Steve's pretty sure she's trying to physically hold back laughter. 

If one could shoot lasers with their eyes, Steve would be nailing Dustin for ruining--whatever it was that was happening here. 

"He's a rescue" Steve says flatly. "It’s not working out though. We're planning on returning him to the shelter.” 

"Wow Steve." Dustin returns, offended. "First of all, if anyone's rescuing anyone I rescued you, or did you suddenly forget that you show up to family dinner every Thursday at my house like a sad orpha--mmpphh!" 

‘Mmpphh’ because Steve had taken several long strides across the store to smack his hand over Dustin's mouth. 

"Sorry Chrissy, it would appear the asshole children I am paid to babysit escaped whoever is supposed to be watching them." He shakes Dustins head, in lue of strangling him. “Hit me up later we’ll discuss the shark’s best kills.” 

“Will do.” Chrissy says, as Steve begins the process of shoving his four smaller friends out the door. “Drive safe!” 

“No you don’t, and you’re gonna prove it by swinging through McDonalds for us.” Dustin sing-songs, swinging himself into the passenger side of the Beemer. 

“You assholes owe me, big time.” Steve hisses, as Lucas and Mike instantly begin making kissy faces the second they’re out into the parking lot. "I had plans tonight!"

“Do you have McDonalds money?” Steve asks, only to immediately wince at himself because fuck did he just sound like a soccer mom. 

“I have money I took out of my mom’s wallet.” Mike says as he settles into the car with his friends.

“Fine.” Steve sighs in defeat, starting the car. 

He determinedly does not ask if the idiots walked here, because there is a suspicious lack of bicycles, if only because he hit his mom quota for the day and Steve refuses to say anything else that might edge out his cool persona.

The one he swears he still has.

Supposedly. 

("Does my mom really pay you to watch me?" Dustin asks a while later, when the other brats are distracted. His voice is painfully honest, and softer than it normally is. 

"In food, yes." Steve says, because he’s not that much of an asshole--and maybe, because Dustin is truly his only friend right now.

Steve honestly looks forward to those Thursday dinners, helping Ma Henderson and having her fuss over him in a way his parents never had. 

In a way no one ever had. 

Dustin lands a solid kick to his ankle, making Steve curse. "That's not payment you ass!"

"Ow, God Dustin--" 

"Just admit you're my actual friend, you dick!" 

"Language! I swear your mom stole you from wolves, you animal--" Steve swatted at him. 

Maybe, possibly later, he will go on to admit that yes, Dustin is his friend. 

He will even agree to making up a stupid handshake for it. 

It involves lightsabers and gore at least, which Steve insists is very cool.)

#BB is coming down to the wire #my date to post is Halloween #bc its me lol #so our regularly scheduled programing will be back shortly #steddissy #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #0o0 fanfics #steve/chrissy/eddie #for those weirdies who kept insisting this was platonic in the tags you can read this part too and be happily delusional about the endgame #its a slowburn #my calling card lmao #this fic was meant to weave around the canon plot until s4 wherein we go off the rails #this is an everyone lives fiiiiic #theyre all equally dorky with crushes #Steve has some Im Just Ken issues #angst

[norrisleclercf1]

hii babes can we please please get a super angsty mafia fic for max!!! I am obsessed with your writing!! something about the reader being hurt or even close to dying I’ll leave it up on you!! just wanna say you are a wonderful writer!!! also an update on mafia mick would just be ahh!! hope you are doing good bb

A/n: Mafia Max and it's angst, you're spoiling me

He knew something was wrong. It was one of those waking up and feeling off, but nothing was wrong. Max couldn't place his finger on it. His morning started off how it always did.

You still asleep, him kissing you and then heading out for his daily run and workout. Coming back to you outside in the garden waiting for him. It was then the soft sex you'd have in the privacy of sun room and then going on with his business.

Max got the text of you going out to shop in the afternoon, smiling at your text. But still, the feeling that something was wrong, wasn't going away and he doesn't know how to get rid of it. Sitting in the meeting he tries his best to ignore the growing pressure in his chest.

Max growls when the doors to meeting room slam open and the frantic face of his assistant pops in. "Mr. Verstappen," She whispers, Max tenses seeing the way she was trying to hold herself together. "What?" The feeling from earlier grows, so much so it takes over Max.

"It's," She swallows shaking her head. "It's Mrs. Verstappen," She whispers, the tears finally rolling down her face. Max recognized the feeling now, the aura he's been around all day. He's felt it before, right before tragedy or even worse, death. This, this feeling was utter doom.

---------------------

"A car ran right into hers. 2 of the guards have passed, she," The doctor takes a deep breathe. Max holds up his hand, not wanting to hear the words. Words that have been spoken to him before. "Don't, I won't have you say them." He whispers, large hands wrapping around your delicate ones.

Hands that were always warm and dancing in his hair, now limp and covered with wires and needles. "Mr. Verstappen, you need to prepare yourself." The doctor steps out of the room, Max refuses to look away from you.

"Maxy?" Looking up, his bloodshot eyes meet the eyes of a head of dark curls, and tan skin. "Was it on purpose?" Max whispers, Daniel hangs his head. "Yeah, they aimed for her side. It was on purpose."

Max sniffs loudly, wiping his eyes as he stands up. Leaning down he kisses your cheek, none of your warmth greeting him, only cold. "Stay with her?" "Of course," Max fixes his suit, and adjusts his gun. "Don't leave me, not yet. At least let me finish some business yeah?" He jokes, but it falls to deaf ears.

"I love you,"

He didn't know that, that would be the last time he could say those words to you.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 fandom #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 scenario #f1 angst #f1 blurb #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen smut #max x reader #max imagine #max verstappen f1 #f1 max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen angst #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #mafia!f1 #f1!mafia #mafia!max verstappen

[melodygatesauthor]

Break Your Fall

Poe Dameron X f!Reader

Part 12 of 28 in the February Fluff and Fuck 2023 Challenge

Day 12 Prompt - Accidental Injury

Summary: When Commander Poe Dameron jumps you while you're on a ladder, you unfortunately fall backward and land on his gorgeous face. While you're grateful he broke your fall, you feel terrible that you may have ruined his Valentine's Day date and do your best to make it up to him.

Tags/Warnings: SFW, fluff, accidental injury, minor mentions of blood and injuries, fluffy, cute, sweet, valentine's day fic, Poe is a flirt, reader is more clumsy than she thinks she is, reader is a little oblivious.

Word Count: 3.8k

“Damn it.” You said, leaning into the cockpit of your X-wing.

You heard your BB unit chirping away underneath you.

“Yes, get in there and see if you can figure it out, Otto.” You said to him before reattaching a wire that had been disconnected during your most recent battle.

“Hey!” You heard behind you.

You jumped. Normally you were sturdy on your ladder. Loud noises happened all the time and you were never so clumsy as to fall, but not today. Today the Maker blessed you with the clumsiness of a toddler and immediately you felt yourself falling backward.

“Oh shit!” You yelled as the ladder tipped, and you lost your footing.

You tried to grab onto something on the way down, but there was nothing. You were up high, and expected to hit the ground and have the wind knocked out of you, but instead your fall was much softer. You smiled, realizing that you were ok. That was close, that would’ve really hurt, you thought, letting out a breath. Otto started rolling over to you and chattering wildly, and you noticed BB-8 rolling over with him. That’s when you realized who had called to you, and that’s when you felt his body rustling underneath you.

“C-Commander Dameron!” You jumped up quickly and saw him lying on the ground, groaning.

“I’m…I’m fine.” He grunted, trying to sit up, “nope, nevermind I’m not fine.”

There was blood trickling down his face from his nostrils, and you noticed that he was favoring his arm. You’d really done some damage to him. You held the communicator on your wrist up to your mouth quickly. Panic was spilling out in your tone.

“We need medical over to hangar 2-C, Commander Dameron is hurt!” You knelt down next to him. You had a clean shop towel in your pocket that you pulled out and used to pinch his nostrils. “Are you ok?”

His eyes remained closed, “I hurt…a lot.”

Your heart was racing, “ok, ok well, just wait here, the medical team is coming to get you.”

“Why did you…couldn’t you find something to hang on to?” He asked, keeping his eyes still closed.

“You jumped me! Maybe don’t sneak up on people while they’re on a ladder!” You defended, but you still felt really bad. “I’m really sorry I…I’m not usually that clumsy.”

He finally opened those brilliant eyes. Having a crush on your superior was hard. Knowing that you’d probably broken his nose and he was going to hate you forever now was even harder. Internally you were yelling at the medical team for not being there yet to break the awkwardness by now.

Finally, a team of officers charged in with a stretcher and some supplies ready to help Commander Dameron get to the med bay. You moved out of the way quickly. They took over and checked him over.

“Yep, I think my arm’s broken!” Poe whined from where they were hoisting him up.

You saw through their bodies the dark eyed glare he sent you. Even if it wasn’t entirely your fault, he was going to make you feel bad. Commander Dameron had a tendency to be tough as nails in the field, but when it came to the common cold or a minor injury, he acted like death was at his door. You were sure he did it sometimes to get out of boring and mundane tasks.

“What happened?” The woman you recognized as the head of the medical team, Avra, said as they loaded Poe onto the stretcher.

“He jumped me while I was on my ladder and I fell back and landed on him.” You said. “It was an accident.”

She rolled her eyes, “He should know better.” She was used to Poe’s shenanigans by now.

“Is he going to be ok?” You asked as she started to walk away.

“It’s Poe, nothing can keep that idiot down for long.” She smirked before turning away and heading toward the med bay.

You stood there with a pit in your stomach. You’d injured the Commander. He couldn’t even move when you stood up. What was he doing scaring me like that anyway? You thought. It’s his own fault, right? It didn’t matter, if it was the Maker’s fault, you felt guilty, and you wanted to make it up to him.

He’d always been so kind to you. He was always willing to work with you when you were slow to learn something new, he always made well, and poorly, timed jokes to cheer you up when you were feeling down, and most of all he was a great leader. Even when things felt hopeless, he was there to give everyone hope.

“Hey!” You turned and saw your friend Arla coming your way.

Her smile was infectious, inspiring your own. You waved to her as she approached before putting your hands in your pockets and exhaling a deep sigh.

“What’d you do to the Commander?” She asked, nodding in the direction of the med bay.

You looked over there, feeling a pang in your stomach, a heavy reminder that you would be feeling guilty about this for months. You turned back to look at her.

“I fell on him. From that ladder.” You pointed to the metal apparatus that sat toppled over beneath your ship. “Think I broke his nose, and maybe his arm.”

She giggled, “y-you broke his nose?” Her small giggle turned into an eruption of laughter. You nervously wrapped your arms around yourself, hoping no one was paying attention. “That is too good. Prettyboy Poe Dameron with a broken nose.” She wiped a stray tear.

“I mean, it was an accident.” You said, walking back over to your X-wing and picking up the ladder. Arla followed after you.

Otto chirped away, rolling over to the ship to join you.

“No, I think we’re done for the day.” You said to him.

You were grateful when she decided to change the subject. “So, got any plans for Valentine’s Day?” She leaned against the ladder.

Your blood went cold. It was Valentine’s Day… You’d completely forgotten that it was Valentine’s Day, which made the fact that you’d injured Poe even worse. What if he had a date? What if his date never forgave him for not showing up for their plans and it was all your fault? The thought that you may have single handedly ruined Commander Dameron’s night and potential love life rendered you frozen in place with your friend snapping her fingers in your face.

“Hello…are you listening to me?” She sounded annoyed.

“I ruined his whole life.” You said vacantly.

“You wha-oh, Maker, that’s enough, you’re being foolish.” She patted you on the shoulder. “Just go check on him in a bit. I’m sure the guy is fine, it’s not the first time he’s been beat up.”

That’s just what you did. You waited until you were sure no one else was around and the medical tent had settled before you stepped in timidly to check on the banged up pilot. His arm was in a sling, but you were sure he would forgive you for that, it was his face you were worried about. Commander Dameron was attractive, everyone liked him. He had charisma, good looks, and charm that could kill.

You’d worked under him for a long time. In fact, he was the one who taught you how to fly. When you first joined you were a terrible pilot, able to get from point A to point B, but never much further. He’d seen to it that you were skilled enough to assist him in nearly any scenario, and you were proud to fight by his side. He probably hated you now, he probably wouldn’t want to see your face, but you had to apologize.

“Are you gonna come in or just stand there like a weirdo?” He asked, lips curling up at the sides in a smirk.

You jumped, not realizing he’d seen you, “I’m sorry!” You rushed into the room quickly so you didn’t continue to seem odd. “How are you feeling?”

He groaned, using his good arm to sit up further on the bed.

“Well, nose is busted, clearly, and I have a sprain in my arm, but nothing serious. Should be all fixed up in no time!” He didn’t seem upset at all which took you by surprise.

“I am so so sorry.” You shook your head. “I really didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, you should be. I'll never emotionally recover from that violent attack.” He said, chuckling. “It probably didn’t help that I jumped one of my pilots while she was several feet in the air on a rickety ladder, but…”

“Is there anything I can do for you, Commander Dameron?” You asked, hoping there was some magic task he could give you that would make everything better.

“I’ve told you a hundred times to call me Poe. And actually, yeah, if you could go talk to Alex in inventory and grab a card for Valentine’s Day, I need one.” He said.

“Oh! For your Valentine.” You saw him struggling to reach for some water. “Let me help.” You rushed over and grabbed the cup. “Here.”

When you brought the cup to his soft lips you felt your heart stop when his hand reached up and touched yours gently. He just needs to stabilize himself, don’t read into it, you said to yourself. He just told you that he needed you to grab a Valentine’s Day card for him, remember? He already has someone he’s interested in, and it’s not you. Calm down.

No matter what you said to yourself, it didn’t stop you from feeling a bit jealous when you left the medical tent that you were running a romantic errand for Poe’s date. He didn’t owe you any loyalty, it’s not like he was your boyfriend, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the smallest bit heartbroken over the reckless Resistance pilot. He was gorgeous, yes, but he was also funny, kind, and loyal, everything someone could ask for in a partner.

You shook the thoughts from your mind while you approached the inventory counter. You had to stop thinking like that, he was never going to be your boyfriend, he clearly already had someone in mind. Alex, the bubbly man that kept track of everything coming into and going out of the Resistance base lit up when he saw you.

He said your name, “...how are you darling?”

“I’m good.” You smiled, unable to keep your sour face with Alex’s cheerful personality in your vicinity. “Um, I actually need a Valentine’s Day card.” You leaned on the counter.

“Oh?” He pulled out a box from below the counter, opening it to reveal an array of paper cards for any occasion. “You have a special person in mind?” He looked at you with a sly smirk.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, “no, it’s not for me. Commander Dameron asked for it.”

He pulled out the Valentine’s Day cards from the box and put them on the table.

“Why didn’t he come get it himself?” He asked you.

You shrugged, “um, I think he was busy.” You lied, you didn’t feel like explaining to everyone in the Resistance that you’d broken his nose and sprained his arm. “What card would you get for a date? I don’t know what he wants, he didn’t specify.”

“Why don’t you pick one that you might like?” He suggested.

You shuffled through them at least three times before choosing the one that you felt would’ve best suited you if you were the recipient. Whoever got the card was going to be so happy. Imagining the smile on their face at first made you smirk, but then you felt that stab in your gut when you remembered that you didn’t have anyone getting you a card like this for Valentine’s Day and your smile subsided.

“Whoever he’s giving that to, I’m sure she’ll love it.” Alex said, putting the unchosen cards back in the box.

“Yeah…I think so too,” you said, “thanks Alex.”

“No problem darling,” he winked as you departed, heading back for the tent.

When you went back into the medical tent, Poe was shirtless while a nurse looked him over. You felt a lump in your throat and thought for a second that maybe you should turn away, but he beckoned you over as soon as he saw you.

“They were just finishing up.” He said, nodding at the nurse.

She gave you a kind smile as she left the private area of the tent the two of you were in.

“Oh, here you go.” You walked over and handed him the card.

“Thank you.” He set it down on the table at his bedside. “Would you be able to do me one more big favor?

You were glad that he was asking you for help. The truth was that it helped ease the guilt you had for falling over and hurting him. If you had been paying more attention, or at least not so clumsy, then he wouldn’t be in this situation. The least you could do was help him make his Valentine happy, since you likely ruined her evening too.

“Sure, anything.” You said all too eagerly.

“Could you go out into the woods and see what you can find for flowers? She likes the purple ones that turn more blue toward the center. Know what I mean?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah!” You chuckled, “funny, those are my favorite! I know exactly which ones you’re talking about.” You left the tent all smiles, ready to help him in any way you could once more.

One of the best things about D’qar was its beautiful landscape. The forest was filled with lush greenery and trees taller than any you’d seen on any other planet. It also had those beautiful pale purple flowers that you loved so much. It wasn’t their smell that captivated you. While the scent was lovely, it was the mauve hue that shifted into a deep blue that really made you smile. They were just so beautiful.

When you found one, you walked over to it and knelt to the ground. You touched one of the soft petals in your hand. It was a breathtaking plant. It sort of hurt to cut it from the ground the way you did, but you did it anyway, pulling your knife from your pocket and slicing the stem.

You found several others like that, and by the time you were done you’d collected at least eight. You found some other small white flowers to arrange with the bouquet that you’d made. Whoever this woman was would be so happy when she finally got to see what Poe had planned for her. Jealousy tore through you once again as you got closer to the medical tent with your floral collection.

You and Poe had been friends for some time. After spending a while teaching you how to fly, he also spent a significant amount of time teaching you about basic ship repairs and techniques with a blaster. He had been on dates since you’d known him, but none seemed to stick. While you felt a little envious of the Valentine’s Day mystery woman, you hoped that this one made him happier than the others.

Even with a broken nose, his appearance took your breath away. He was so handsome. Dark curls in disarray from the fall, smooth skin that begged to be touched, and eyebrows that always seemed to sit perfectly without need for plucking. You were squeezing the bouquet in your hand and Poe was looking out through an opening in the tent from his bed. You were sure being in the darkness on such a beautiful day was frustrating for him. Something else to feel guilty about.

“Do you want me to open a curtain for you?” You asked, placing the flowers on his bedside table.

He reached out and grabbed your hand, caressing your fingertips with his thumbs and flashing you a brilliant smile. Be still your beating heart.

“Thanks for grabbing those. That would be awesome. Dark as hell in here.” He said in his deep, sultry voice.

You felt your stomach drop. You wished he wouldn’t touch you like that. It only added to the sickly feeling that came with running Valentine’s Day errands for him and his mystery date. You gulped harshly and pulled your hand away, walking over to the tent flap and pulling it aside. You secured it with a string.

“How’s that?” You asked, turning back to look at him.

He was staring right at you with a soft, hooded gaze, “beautiful.”

You sucked in a breath, “ok, well if that’s everything…” You started to walk away.

“Wait!” He called to you, you turned back around. “One more thing, can you run to the kitchens and see if they have any wine? The pink kind, please?”

This woman had good taste, whoever she was. She liked the same kind of flowers as you and the same kind of wine. You nodded before leaving the tent once more. You wished he’d had you get everything all at once. You felt like that would’ve been so much easier, but instead you were running around back and forth, and your eagerness to help him was waning with every task you completed. Your jealousy was rising slowly, and you felt bad for that in addition to breaking his face.

When you got to the kitchen, it was easy to find anything. You had a friend in almost every part of the Resistance. It made it easy to get what you needed when you asked for something like pink moscato on Valentine’s Day.

“There’s only one bottle left, and it’s for Commander Dameron.” Koline said, shrugging. “Sorry.”

“That’s who I’m grabbing it for. He…he’s busy and said he needed it for his date tonight.” You were still trying to avoid admitting that you’d broken his nose and busted up his shoulder.

Your eyes were begging for her to trust you. Koline groaned and opened the fridge before turning and handing you the pink glass bottle.

“If that goes to the wrong place, he’s gonna have a fit. You know how he can get, so I’m trusting you with this.”

You nodded, “I’ll make sure it gets to him.”

You had every intention to bring him the wine. Walking was something you could safely say you were good at. One step in front of the other. How hard could it be? Apparently it was very, very difficult on this day. You found yourself tripping over quite possibly nothing, the ground coming closer to your face. You managed to stop yourself from getting hurt, save for a scrape on your arm, but the bottle of wine was a different story.

Liquid soaked into the soil of D’qar, and glass glittered everywhere. You immediately wished you could be like the wine, soaking into the dirt where no one could see you and witness your shame. You lay there on the ground for a minute, looking up at the sky, wishing you were anyone else. Not only had you totally ruined Poe’s day by destroying him physically, you now couldn’t even properly deliver his Valentine’s Day items he’d so kindly requested from you.

Before anyone had seen you, you got up and brushed yourself off. You sulked into the medical tent where Poe was laying right as you’d left him. You crossed your arms over your chest and wished you could disappear inside of yourself when his beautiful brown eyes locked on to yours. You noticed the flowers in a vase of water now at his bedside. The nurse must’ve taken care of them.

“Did you drink all the wine on your way here?” He asked, smirking at you.

“Commander I-”

“Poe.” He corrected you.

“Poe…I dropped it and it shattered.” You groaned, “it was an accident. I'm so, so sorry. I’m just so clumsy and stupid…” You let out a heavy sigh. “I just feel so bad. Like, I should’ve been more careful on that ladder, and now you have a date and I’ve completely ruined it twice!” You ran your hands down over your face, still thinking of how you wanted to disappear.

“Well, I wouldn’t say you’re especially clumsy. But dumb…?” He went to shrug but then winced.

Now he was just being hurtful.

“Ok, you don’t have to be rude-”

“Who else do you know in the Resistance who is as obsessed with these flowers and that wine?” He stared at you, waiting for an answer.

You gulped, “it’s one of the most common flowers on D’qar, and I’m sure the reason there was only one bottle left wasn’t due to lack of popularity.”

Poe pursed his lips in defeat, “Ok, fair…but…” he let out a heavy sigh. “Can you actually come here and help me?”

You stepped closer, “help you with what?” You asked.

“No, come here.” He beckoned you over with his good arm. “Stand next to me.” You walked over and stood at his side, and he grabbed your wrist. “I have to tell you something private, come down.”

You leaned over and then he grabbed your shirt collar and pulled your lips to his. You sucked in a breath of surprise before melting into it. It would seem that maybe you were, as he’d so kindly put it, an idiot. He’d been sending you around gathering all of those supplies for…you. You were Commander Poe Dameron’s Valentine. When the kiss broke, you felt like a pile of mush.

“It was all for me?” You asked, still unable to believe it.

“Of course it was.” He smiled at you.

You noticed blood trickling down his nose again through the bandage.

“Shit.” You scrambled to find a towel. When you did, you pressed it to his nose delicately. “I can’t even kiss right.”

“Oh, baby, that might be the thing you’re the best at, been waiting a long time for it.” His eyes looked like they were twinkling, and you were wondering if maybe when you used him as a cushion, you hit him a little too hard.

AO3 LINK

TAGLIST (please let me know if you would like to be added or removed): @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction, @my-secret-shame, @thatmomwitchfriend, @alexxavicry, @welcometostayingawake, @jake-g-lockley, @campingwiththecharmings, @steven-grants-world, @lia275, @minigirl87, @ahookedheroespureheart

#poe dameron #poe #dameron #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron romance #star wars #star wars fanfic #star wars fic #poe does my butt look big in this dameron #star wars smut #poe dameron fic #poe dameron fanfic #commander dameron #commander poe dameron #poe dameron fluff

[fatuismooches]

hii, its 💌 anon coming reallll late but happy anniversary :)) i was gone for so long bc i had school and so much other things but i am back‼️ with pantalone thoughts….and dottore thoughts ofc teehee.

akademiya zandik writing reader letters but then he was like “okay no, im not that whipped (he is) i’m gonna toss it somewhere else” but he ends up keeping it in a box. fragile reader on the other hand used to always write him letters :(( and ofcourse he kept them all. they were always well decorated and had the most beautiful wiring but after reader got sick, he didnt get them anymore. the younger clones would probably make little get well soon cards while the older ones write letters and all :(. (also fits reader literally writing him a letter in the case,, yk,, they die)

meanwhile, in pantaloneland, reader and him watched barbie together!!! he wore pink and the entire shebang, probably even rented….bought an entire theater for the private viewing for the both of you. (its actually js a theater version of the barbie movie. no movies back then so…play! arlie would love it too). BUT!! he js hates ken in the middle of it. “i would never ever get rid of your barbie dream house, darling :(“ because honestly? it makes him sad. how can someone just strip things that their lover likes away just to be better? it reminded him a bit of his own bitter childhood, and because of that, he buys you even more things after <3

“pantalone, i dont need that many outfits-“

“just indulge me darling :) you’ve been with me since i was young, its only fair i return the favor”

- 💌

HI 💌 ANON! Welcome back ❤️ I hope you've been doing good and taking care of yourself!! AND AGHHH THANKS FOR YOU FOR THOUGHTS 😭🤲

ZANDIK WRITING LETTERS 😔💖 He thinks that instead of verbalizing his feelings, he can water them down and make them all professional like he does in his notes/research reports... WRONG. Within the first sentence, he looks at it and stops because wtf there's no way he's gonna continue writing this sappy shit (it wasn't even sappy he was showing that he cared about you a bit more than the average person) But you on the other hand? You don't care if you sound too emotional or sappy or in love or not. You just write what you wanna write. Zandik will scoff and make fun of you but you know he keeps all of them. Where? You don't know, but you just know.

But it's only after it's too late that he realizes how much he likes the little letters he used to receive from you. (UR EVIL FOR THAT LAST PART.) Stop now I'm thinking about bb Zandy giving you a card... he drew you two with crayons 💖

NOT PANTALONE AND YOU WATCHING BARBIE... I haven't seen it yet but I'm beyond excited to go and watch it whenever I'm able to!! Psh, he doesn't even need to buy a theater because you know he been had one for years!! But OUCH not the angst at the end ;( Ugh he literally loves and respects you so much, he can't fathom the thought of ever hurting you on purpose.

In your closet, there are two types of outfits. The ones you wear regularly, and the ones you wore only once because Pantalone makes you try on everything he buys you. Oftentimes you have to enlist your husband for help choosing outfits and accessories because you probably get overwhelmed by your closet being the size of a big bedroom 😭

#smooches talks #💌 anon #fragile reader <3 #i rlly need to write a fic with fragile reader being healed #pantaloneland <3 #ive been wanting to watch barbie all summer 😭 i hope i can go see it soon #everytime i see pantalone spoil his partner it makes me an unhealthy amount of happy #like sir u should not spend that much on me but I'm flattered at the same time #man if someone ever disrespected u #pantalone would be more pissed thAN YOU #need me a man like that fr

[bucknastysbabe]

The Call Girl - H. Zemo

Kink Bingo - Spanking

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Call girl reader, Zemo is bb girl, Madripoor shenanigans, she wants that Bucky dick, possessive Zemo, spanking, shite bdsm etiquette, aftercare, pnv!sex, subtle audio voyeurism, That Club Scene

A/N: Sokovian is like Hungarian/Slovenian with Cyrillic lettering. So I made a Russian Slovenian nightmare.

сладкий - sweet

хорошая девочка - good girl

теплый - warm

You worked in Madripoor as a call girl. You didn’t provide ‘favors’ unless the client was handsome or particularly wealthy. The Baron, one of your favorites, had recently contacted you on accompanying him to Lowtown. You rolled your eyes, Lowtown had nothing good coming out of there.

He needed a date to fit in with the crowd at the Brass Monkey. The wire number was included in the message. You shrugged, Helmut was dearly missed since he’d been locked up. In the past he’d need you to scope out former Hydra members. Then have intense sex. Usually fun.

You idly wondered how he got out. Whatever, you accepted the request and informed Zemo that you would be there. Time to pick out a clubbing fit now. A client had recently bought you some jewelry that needed to be shown off.

You raised a brow at the two men accompanying the Baron. They seemed just as surprised. The famed Falcon barked, “Who the hell is this?” Meanwhile the stupidly handsome Winter Soldier glared you down, a mulish tilt to his jaw. Zemo swaggered forward wearing a lavish coat.

“Ah- dearest, you’re just as lovely as I last saw you. How are you сладкий?” He held his arms out, embracing you with a kiss on each cheek. He purred, “Business first, then much needed play Hm?”

You ran a manicured nail down his cheek, teasing, “I’ve been great. But we are very, very overdue.”

Clad under Zemo’s arm he turned to face the two men. They probably were here about the whole serum nonsense. Everyone knows something in Madripoor, knowledge is monetary. Helmut smoothly supplied, “Sam, James, My lovely friend here is to help us blend a bit more. She’s got connections everywhere.”

Sam frowned. “Whatever works man. Let’s get this over with.” Bucky nodded, looking at unease. Helmut palmed your ass, smirking like the cat that got the cream. You planted a kiss on his smooth cheek, inhaling the expensive cologne.

The two Avengers stuck out like sore thumbs. Your eyes flickered over to the Power Broker making deals while you danced with Zemo. You giggled at his little dance, pulling the Baron closer. You twisted to align your back to his front. The Sokovian tilted his head, a question in the air. You shouted over the music, “I know you did ballroom, but just move with me!” He nodded dutifully, hands encircling your hips.

To the thudding bass you rolled along to the music. Zemo learnt quickly, always did, serious face trained on yours. You grinded against his hips, asking, “Do you like my new sapphires? Montez bought them.” Zemo fingered at the jewels, not missing a beat. He hummed, “Good choice, meant to look ravishing with them only adorning you.”

Your lashes fluttered at his sultry tone. Helmut drove you fucking wild. You turned to capture his thin lips, lapping into his spicy taste. Zemo’s fingers clamped onto your waist, rutting roughly. The moment was interrupted by Sam and Buck, saying Sharon? was ready.

Well. Things have shifted dramatically. You just wanted to get boned. Not run from bounty hunters and practically blacklisted from Madripoor. Your very lucrative home. Also they didn’t realize their dear Sharon was the Power Broker, not your problem at the moment. You liked having a tongue.

The soldier snorted, “Bad luck huh?”

Sam added, “I’m sorry you got dragged into this. I’m sure- uh- someone can sort this out.”

You hissed, pointing at Zemo pacing, “I expect someone to find me a pardon. Hightown is where I work, live, and no one is watching my fucking cats!”

Zemo sighed, running a hand across his brow. He leveled you with a look, promising, “You will get sorted out my dear. Oeznik is already making arrangments. Why don’t you join me for a drink in the cabin, hm сладкий?”

Feeling slightly better you acquiesced by holding a prim hand out, the Baron taking it and leading you both to the back, closing a curtain and shutting the door. You could vaguely hear the two men complaining.

Once the door shut, Helmut was upon you, pushing you face first on the bed. You moaned softly, poking your ass up for him. Zemo hummed, “I would be quite upset to miss your company. Poor little James looked to be quite infatuated when you turned.”

To egg on the Baron you laughed, “He could join in, very easy on the eyes that one. Pliant.”

Helmut subtly growled, a gloved hand gripping at the meat of your ass. He ordered, “Don’t play the whore. You’re more than that. James is a pawn, a dog at our feet. Don’t even consider Wilson. сладкий, you’re all mine for the night, understand?”

You nodded, a strangled whimper of ‘yes’.

“хорошая девочка,” he said.

You heard his belt rustle, the clink of it in the air. Unable to help but squirm feeling his heavy gaze. Helmut stated flatly, “Since you dressed like a minx, brought up James, and teased me I think that earns you ten swats. Does that seem good?”

You babbled, “Yes Baron, I’ve been bad, I deserve those.”

He smirked again, flexing the belt with a crack. Zemo continued, “If you count them like my хорошая девочка then I’ll reward you. You remember the word?”

You gulped and replied, “теплый.”

Zemo closed in, and slid up your tight dress. He stopped, you turning to look. The Sokovian had his thoughtful head tilt on. He grunted, “Dress off.”

“Yes Baron.” The dress was shimmied off and you returned to your position. He made a sound of amusement, palming your smooth ass one more time. Helmut purred, “Remember to count my dear.”

Crack. One.

He struck the belt across both cheeks, zinging pain making you writhe and cry out a strained, “One sir!”

Your pussy was already achy and soaked from the build up. Zemo’s antics would have you squalling by the end. You’re a princess, not a pain slut.

Crack. Crack. Two, three.

This one was harder, definitely leaving a welt. You howled and gripped at the bedding, moaning in pleasure-pain. You gritted out, “Two and three sir.” You whimpered at the aftershocks of the intense heat.

“Doing so well.”

Crack! Across the backs of your thighs. You jolted up the bed, a leather clad hand easily yanking you back. He laughed lowly, “Easy girl.” You whimpered and stilled yourself, sulkily replying, “F-four.”

Crackcrack! Criss crossed across your ass. Your pussy convulsed around nothing, needy for his cock. You whined, “Five! Thank you Baron- fuck, six!” You clenched your sore thighs together, head foggy.

Seven and eight were a blur. Tears began to well in your eyes, ass stinging and bruising. Helmut cooed and praised you, thumb tenderly circling your ankle. You mewled, “S-s-seven, ah-eight.”

“So close.”

Crack. Crack. One final smack on each cheek. The floodgates opened, you babbling, “Fuckfuck- m’god! Baron! Shit nine ten! Fuck me Helmut, oh god fuck me!” You couldn’t hold back the sobs, presenting your sore ass.

Helmut had stripped behind you, laying over your wracked frame. He slid his palms up your waist, nipping your ear. The Baron groaned, “You bloom so gorgeous for me.” You sniveled and rutted back against his hard cock, begging brokenly for dick.

He laughed, “I have you. I have you.” The blunt tip of his cock rubbed around your swollen, wet folds before sliding in one rough stab. The pair of you gasped and shook, your ass reigniting with pain at the collision.

Zemo muttered rapid Sokovian nonsense, breathing down the nape of your neck. He urged, “Take it dear. For your Baron.” You nodded in drunken jerks, grasping the fine bedding. You were already so close from the spanking.

Helmut pounded his frustrations into your willing body, grunting and spouting Sokovian nothings. His balls slapped wetly against your cunt, filling the room with a lewd soundtrack. Meanwhile you scrabbled at the bed, sobbing his name and praising the Baron.

“So gah-goddamn good! Close- please don’t stop sir! Mmm!”

He licked and sucked at your shoulder and neck, cracking his palm down on your flank. The new sting made your eyes roll back and cunt aggressively pulse out slick. You shook under the brunt of your long awaited orgasm, howling in ecstasy. Zemo growled, “Hah- that’s it dear, let them hear, let them know what they can’t have.”

You yelled, “Youyouyou Helmut!”

His pulsing cock stretched your rolling pussy, driving deep to fill you up with a quiet grunt. He hoarsely panted, staying upright, amber eyes up at the roof. He gasped, “Divine dear.” You whispered, “Lay down, relax for a bit. I know my dear Baron is busy. Mind the ass.”

He chuckled, sliding out with a curse. Helmut got up on shaking legs, walking to a drawer. You looked up and asked, “What is it?” He didn’t turn, responding, “Crème. Helps with the ache for tomorrow.” You smiled at his sweetness.

Zemo returned to rub the cooling lotion into your worn buttocks, idly chatting about recent events. You simply listened, lulling off into a sleep. How you enjoyed your Baron so. But Oeznik better fly you back to the Power Broker to get your name restored. Insanity.

#helmut zemo x reader #zemo fanfic #zemo smut #zemo x reader #Sokovian head tilt #kink bingo

[loosesodamarble]

Hi soda. I have a Nacht request. Can you write Nacht x tsundere reader head cannons or a story anything is okay.

I can certainly try for you, Anon, as well as all other Nacht fans out there~! I find it a little funny since Nacht himself could be considered some flavor of tsundere (given his interactions with Yami).

..........

Nacht Faust x Tsundere!Reader

First off, neither of you asked the other out. The Black Bulls had pulled an elaborate scheme to set you up on a date.

It was a weird evening with Nacht remarking about how many romantic scenarios you'd conveniently stumbled across (like a fountain light show or couples getting discounts on ice cream) and you snidely remarking that he didn't have to be so suspicious of everything.

By the end of it, Nacht apologized for "dragging down the mood" but you shut him up with a kiss and admitted that his jaded view on romance was kinda funny. At least for the night.

"Don't be so cynical if we end up becoming a couple, okay Nacht?"

"Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?"

"Wha-?! What part made you think that?!"

From there, you and Nacht had a somewhat unconventional relationship.

You will constantly have to drag Nacht places. Either out of bed because he's a night owl and wants to sleep in but you won't have it. Or you have to force him out of the BB base because his weekly critiques of his squadmates is dragging out too long.

Your shows of affection are very strong. Literally in some cases. You've given him pats on the back that make him say "ow." And when you tell him goodbye it tends to come out as "don't forget you have a loving partner to come home to or I'm going to kick your ass!"

You are Nacht's cheerleader, if an aggressive one. If he starts to criticize himself or get gloomy, you grab him by the collar, give him a good shake, and say "Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend, huh? The man I love isn't as pathetic as this."

And in return (in a way?), Nacht is your biggest critic. Mostly because he knows how amazing you are when you apply yourself wholeheartedly. So he'll push your buttons and annoy you into showing effort.

If you ever want to cuddle with Nacht, you don't ask. You just grab him from wherever he is and take him to a couch or to bed.

Nacht points out that he'd always agree if you simply asked but you insist that the way you do it is already working so there's no need to change.

If anyone, the Black Bulls or otherwise, inquire about your relationship with Nacht, you glare at them. "It's none of your business! It's nosy and creepy to be asking about other people's relationships, you know!"

You're just embarrassed to talk about dating him.

You've lost count of the times you've smacked Nacht's hand away from touching you when you're not in the mood for physical affection. You could move away or tell Nacht not to touch you but your brain is wired towards a "fight" reaction.

You're annoyed with yourself over it. But Nacht assures you that you don't slap that hard.

"Are you saying that I'm weak?"

"Oh no, you're plenty strong. Your slapping technique just isn't good. Which is fortunate for me."

"I'll get better at slapping just to spite you."

"... Please don't."

Your relationship with Nacht isn't saccharine sweet whatsoever. You've got a sharp personality and Nacht is a jaded man. But you two appreciate that you don't have to be soft with each other to show affection.

Truly, Nacht wouldn't mind if you were more tsuntsun in public if it meant that the deredere side of you was something exclusive to him (and your friends, he supposes with a twinge of jealousy).

#questions from the ask box #black clover #black clover headcanons #nacht faust #nacht faust headcanons #nacht faust x reader #x reader #awesome anons #i did my best to avoid the most stereotypical depictions of a tsundere #i tried to do a little twist on the 'tsundere slapping their love interest' thing #also some tsundere banter i couldn't avoid it

[eoieopda]

First off, congrats on 1k 👏👏👏👏 you are so incredible at writing and when I followed I assumed I was late finding you but it appears to be I came in early(?) on time, any who…

More than you know - Axewell /\ Ingrosso

With Jungkook 🙃

Thank you if you do this ❤️ keep up the great writing 🥰😎

tysm sweet bb! i’m so glad you found me, whenever and however you did 🫶🏻 also, this is such a banger omfg. i had to physically get up and jump around my bedroom, lol.

listen here

ft. truly the most chaotic and adorable jungkook i’ve written to date, i think. this is also the first 1k drabblepalooza piece to literally include the inspo. song, which feels kind of fitting since it’s the last one!

you had your reasons, you had a few / but you knew that I would go anywhere for you / ‘cause it ain't over, until she sings

A slump.

There was no other way to put it. You were simultaneously too wired to sleep, and too tired to do much of anything else. Above all, you were bored. No matter how many times you checked your phone, the time on the home screen never seemed to change. The seconds slid by like syrup, sticking to everything as they passed.

Ugh.

Jungkook should have been home from work hours ago. When he wasn’t, he swore up and down that he was nearly finished with whatever it was that held him up. As soon as he did finish, he’d said, he’d be right there to keep you company and keep you occupied. Unfortunately for you, that last text was sent more than two hours ago.

You’d watched so many episodes of Sailor Moon in the meantime that you felt your brain turning to doenjang.

Listless, you flopped back onto your mattress with your arms outstretched on either side. As you did, your phone slipped out of your hand, over the edge of the bed, and onto the floor. You stared after it but didn’t bother to grab it. It wasn’t doing you any good, anyway.

Stretched out over the mattress, it dawned on you how rarely you got the opportunity to take up this much space. Now, you could truly bask in it: the newfound ability to spread out without arms around your waist, or a head resting on your chest, or a leg flung over your side to keep you close while you slept. It also dawned on you that you actually kind of hated feeling this untangled.

Between you and Jungkook, you certainly weren’t the clingy one. As he’d once lovingly phrased it, you were a cactus. You didn’t need constant attention or physical contact to thrive — just some, now and then, in moderation. Low maintenance. Jungkook, on the other hand, said he needed enough to drown in. Until now, this assessment seemed spot-on.

Of course, you’d never dream of telling him that his neediness had — shockingly — rubbed off on you. If Jungkook knew that his affection was missed this badly, you’d have to have him surgically removed.

Eventually, your eyes began burning from the way you’d zoned out, staring at the ceiling. You closed them and, like a child, you made a wish: When they open again, Jungkook will be standing in the doorway. So, you kept them closed to increase the likelihood of your wish coming true.

And you waited, waited, waited…

You might’ve stayed asleep if there wasn’t a car honking emphatically outside your window. There was intermittent shouting, too, and — music?

Sitting up, you tried to rub the sleep from your eyes. As it turned out, it was confusion — not exhaustion — that kept them narrowed. With a groan, you dragged yourself to your feet. Then, you stumbled through the dark towards your balcony door. As you slid open the glass pane and stepped out in the cold, you braced yourself.

Oh god.

Standing on the sidewalk with a boombox at his feet was one Jeon Jungkook. You didn’t recognize the song that was absolutely blaring from the speakers, but his chaotic charm was nothing new. Truthfully, you couldn’t tell which of those two things had drawn more of the onlookers’ attention.

“I just need to get it off my chest,” he belted — in English — with his eyes shut tightly and his raised fist shaking in the air. It was the most absurd display of exaggerated emotion you’d ever seen out of him; and that was saying something. Judging by his smirk, he found himself immensely entertaining, too.

“Yeah, more than you know!”

You snorted, but immediately slapped a hand over your mouth. As hard as it was, you tried to keep your laughter off the list of noise complaints you’d surely receive. Across the street, an old man shoved his head out the window just to bark, “Babo, hajima!”

“Yeah, more than you know.”

Jungkook’s eyes flew open, focusing hard on you. His fist opened, too. With one finger extended, he let his arm drop slowly until he was pointing right at you. As if you weren’t blushing badly enough, he wiggled his hips in time with the music, “You should know that, baby, you’re the best.”

Torn between swooning and dying of embarrassment, you expected to drop at any moment. There was a young couple sitting at a bus stop a few meters behind Jungkook that showered him with praise, though. Ever the crowd-pleaser, Jungkook pointed finger guns at both men and shot them a wink, too.

“Jungkookah!” You whined loudly enough for him to hear but — hopefully — quietly enough to avoid further upset. You could no longer restrain the full, belly laugh that made your shoulders shake.

“Sorry I’m late!” He shouted back, entirely unbothered by the passersby who heckled him. “Also I’m sorry for forgetting my keys!”

Your eyebrows shot up into your hairline. In your confusion, you forgot your manners; you yelled down through wheezing laughter, “You what? Is that what all this was for?”

Jungkook was beaming more brightly than you’d ever seen when he shrugged, “Well, you didn’t answer when I texted or called. What else was I supposed to do?”

Before you could even think to ask after the stereo he’d somehow acquired, you ran to the door and headed for the stairwell. Hopefully, you could whisk your boyfriend away before someone called the police to do the same.

#jade’s requests #jade’s drabbles #1k drabblepalooza #anon #bts #jjk #bts drabble #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts scenarios #bts jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook drabble #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook drabble #jeon jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x y/n #bts army

[f1a1w1n]

No, you don't

Part two of No, you don't

Summary: This fic is sort of a time skip to when we land on the rebel base, cause I didn't want to recite the whole movie. Basically in this fic, you meet Poe for the first time and are shocked at how annoying and handsome he is. It's a slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers fic. Reader has the force.

Word count: 1.25k

Warnings: Not really anything, mentions of blood.

~

I’m picking the thread from my skirt when Rey comes bursting in. 

“He won’t stop following me!” she walks back and forth to demonstrate. “Go away” She points her finger at him, and then at the door. I laugh.

Rey argues with the orange droid as it beeps angrily… or as angrily beeps can go. 

“You can understand it?” I swivel around to face her. 

Rey pushes the droid away with her foot. “Yes, unfortunately,” 

I smile. “What’s he saying?” 

“Something about a pilot… and a stormtrooper” the droid frantically pushes her foot “I found him in some scavengers net”

“Hey come here,” I put my hands out and the droid rolls over cautiously. I spin the droid around and look for the serial number. “Hmm… he’s a republic droid”

“Like the rebels?” Rey asks. She puts out her hand and squeezes her eyes shut “like Luke Skywalker?” 

When she says that the droid goes crazy, rolling back and forth beeping rapidly. 

I smile. “Yes… exactly like that, thats exactly how the force works” 

Rey grins. “Come on let’s go to the town,” 

We walk out to the speeders as Rey chats with the droid. Rey scoffs as as the droid tells her he’s the most important droid in the galaxy. 

While I'm haggling with Plutt about how good this scavenge was. Rey chats with her new friend. 

Plutt raises his hand to quiet me. “The scavenge is weak... I have many other scavengers that get me better quality stuff than this" He gestures to the pile of scraps, then he looks behind me "...but- I'll take that...how much for the droid?” 

“It isn’t for sale” Rey answers for me. 

Plutt reaches behind him and dumps a truckload of portions on the counter. “Sixty portions.” 

I turn to Rey and shoot her a look saying. Is it really not for sale?! 

She gives me a look that says. Yes! Now drop it!

Suddenly the droid beeps franticly and rolls full speed for a man drinking water from an animal trough. Ew. I think. How can you be that desperate? 

Rey runs after the droid and I pile the portions into my bag. Subtly sweeping a extra one. He wouldn’t notice.. right?

The man sees Rey sprinting full speed at him and runs the other way. Honestly, I couldn’t blame him. Rey chases him around the market, weaving in between stalls. Suddenly I popped out between two stalls and tripped him over. 

“Hey!” 

"BB-8?" The man sounds shocked.

All of a sudden TIE fighters began to shoot at the market blowing everything in their path to smithereens. “Run!” I heard someone yell.

The man dragged Rey by her wrist out of the market, in turn Rey gripped on to my arm. We fumbled around trying to escape the TIE fighters blasts. 

“Over there!” Rey pointed to a ship as it blew to bits. We ran the other way. “Nevermind!” 

The man leads us to a dirty-looking ship. We jumped on as the droid rolled in after us. Rey and I hopped into the cockpit and we began furiously flipping switches and pulling levers. 

“Shields aren't working!” 

“What should I do?” the man said, his brow furiously sweating. 

“Go down there!” I messily pointed behind me. “Fire back at them!” 

The man ran off. Rey pulled back on the throttle and we took off shooting into the desert, spinning and flipping the ship, trying to avoid the TIE fighters. I took a panel of of the cockpit and fiddled with wires and switches to try and get the shields on. 

“Why aren't there any shields?!” I heard the mans voice over the intercom. 

“I’m working on it,” I shout back. I unbuckle my seatbelt and stumble out of the cockpit, putting my arms out for balance as the ship lurches from side to side.

“Where are you going?” Rey yells as I rip another panel of of the ship.

I don’t respond. 

Finally we shoot of into hyper space. I heave out a sigh. 

Rey runs out of the cockpit and tackles me with a hug. We squeal and jump around. 

The man walks out, shock painted over his face. His shocked expression turners into a wide grin. 

I grab his arm and shake it while laughing with Rey. 

Rey sticks out her hand. “Rey,” she’s grinning. 

He thinks for a moment. “I’m Finn,”

They shake hands and then Finn offers his hand to me and I introduce myself. 

Time skip~

Han Solo finds his ship and takes us to Maz. After Rey speaks with her she seems shaken. After the fight on Takodono, we realise that Rey was taken. Later we finally reach the rebel base. 

(also I'm sorry for the time skip, but we want to get to the juicy parts right?)

I feel the ship gently touch the ground, lurching me from my thoughts. I’m pressing a rag to my side from where a stormtrooper shot me. The rag is almost soaked with blood at this point.

Where are you, Rey? I think. Why are you making me do this?

I do something that I haven’t done in years. I close my eyes and try to reach out to her with the force. I feel the energy around me buzzing. I try to reach out beyond that, I let myself go back to Takondo, the last place I saw her. I know the force is strong with her, but I’ve never said anything. I didn’t want her to be burdened with it like I am. 

I reach my mind out further. I feel something… it's dark. 

Han Solo walks over, jerking me from the force. “Listen, kid… we’ll get her bac-” he’s going to say something but I can see him rethink his words. “Don’t get on their bad side,” he jerks his head towards the rebel base. "more so, don't get on the generals' bad side, she's a real pain in the-" He walks off muttering about the general.

“...okay,” I slowly stand up, clutching my side. I look over to Finn. He’s sitting with his elbows on his thighs and his head in his hands. 

I put my hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get her back,”

I turn around and follow Han and Chewie out. I see rebel soldiers run over to us. Someone sees the blood from my side and yells “Medic!”

I guess it's worse than I thought.

I feel Han put his hand on the upper part of my back, steadying me. I realise I'm swaying. 

I hear Finn’s voice, “God! Where are the medics?” 

“Kid?” I hear Han say.

“Hm?” 

"Nothing you're just really pale, kid"

He turns the the rebel solider running towards to us. He’s in a fluro-orange flight suit, and he swipes his brown curly hair out of his face as he approaches us. 

“Finn?!” he says, running to give Finn a bear hug, he punches his shoulder. “I thought you were dead.”

“I thought you were dead!” Finn says, the grin on his face widening, his smile drops when he remembers I’m bleeding out.

“We need a medic,”

“Agreed.” Finn’s friend turns around and yells for a medic, people quickly scramble to get one. I see his eyes on me, they look me up and down. My cheeks don't flush because I'm losing so much blood-

Suddenly the droid pops out of the Falcon, zooming at the man in the flight suit. 

“BB-8!” He exclaims. “I missed you!” 

How can you miss a droid? I thought. I roll my eyes. I look back to the man in the flight suit, he’s looking at me. God, I hope he didn’t see that. 

Of the bat I cant help but notice how handsome he is. His dark curly hair lays on his forehead, lightly swaying in the breeze. And his eyes, god they are so dark. There dark and warm, like a cup of deep hot cocoa. When he talks his jawline could cut glass. 

I feel myself buckle in the knees, not because of his ‘rugged’ looks. I feel faint. Finn rushes to my side. “You okay?”

"What d'you think?" I say through gritted teeth.

Finn turns to the man in the flight suit. “Where are those medics, Poe?”

“I don’t know,” Poe takes a step toward me, holding out his arms slightly as if I were about to collapse. 

I let out a pained laugh that really sounded more like a yelp of pain. I fall to the floor. My vision goes dark at the edges. I hear voices muffled my a high pitched ringing. The last thing I see is Poe above me yelling my name.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading!!! I hope your day goes well <3

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@kingtwhiddleston

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#poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #oscar isaac characters #star wars #rey skywalker

[hoedamn-eron]

droid repair

Poe and BB-8 take a trip to droid repair.

Warnings: None. Word count: 1,524 GN!Reader, no use of Y/N.

I really struggled with this, it was supposed to be my first post on this blog, but I kept delaying it because I couldn't finish it! I'm not 100% happy with it, maybe one day I'll come back and re-write it, but I knew that if I didn't post it, I would eventually give up on it and it would never see the light of day.

You had a reputation within the droid community for being a bit rough around the edges. It didn’t bother you; you were in the middle of a war, you weren’t there to make friends, especially with the droids. You were there to do a job, and that job was to fix the droids that were designed to help the Resistance win against the First Order. You didn’t care that they were scared of you, you were just there to fix them.

Which was why Poe Dameron found himself in the deepest pit of the base, where it seemed to lack any life whatsoever. He didn’t even know this corridor was here. BB-8 had been complaining about his wiring for a few days, but no matter how many times Poe told him, the white and orange BB unit refused to go alone – he’d heard stories from C3PO.

Poe had merely rolled his eyes at that. “C3PO has the habit of being dramatic.”

But when you had ushered both Poe and BB-8 into your workspace, Poe began to think BB-8 (and C3PO) were right. You had answered the door with a less-than-happy look on your face, demanding a, “What?”

You had had a bad day. Your order of parts hadn’t shown up, and no matter how many times you chased, via datapad or in person, nobody seemed to want to give you any answers. You’d ran out of caf and hadn’t had the time to get more, and you’d skipped lunch because the nerfherder from the medbay demanded that you fix his droid because he ‘had important stuff to do’, and it hadn’t been an easy fix. Why can’t people just look after their things?

Then, of course, to top off your already terrible day, pretty boy himself, Poe Dameron, had come to you, claiming that his BB unit had some dodgy wires. You hadn’t hidden your exasperated eye roll at him. Pilots were the worst at taking care of their droids. You’d ordered them both in, BB-8 nervously hiding behind Poe’s legs as you slammed the door behind them, demanding the BB unit roll up onto your work bench.

So here you were. You were crouched on the work bench, one of BB-8’s panels open for you to look in, using your pliers to move his wiring around. He had powered down, probably to avoid any other interaction with you. You didn’t make small talk with Poe, letting him wander around your messy workspace as he looked at all your tools, spare parts, and broken droids which should have been fixed days ago.

“So you’re the one who fixes the droids?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Obviously. “Yeah.”

“You kept busy?”

You hated small talk. It’s why you preferred to work with droids than anyone else. “Yeah.”

He turned from his place looking at your cluttered shelves. “Not much of a talker, huh?”

“No.”

Poe stared at you for a moment. When he arrived at your workspace, he was expecting a crotchety, old, grumpy tech who had spent too many years hunched up in a dank workspace looking at droids. Well, you were grumpy, but you definitely weren’t crotchety or old. Actually, you had taken his breath away when you had angrily opened your door to him and BB-8. He thought you were beautiful, and the fact that you didn’t seem to want to talk to him was intimidating.

He also hated awkward silences.

“So…”

“You need to take more care of your droid,” you said, closing the panel on BB-8 and tossing the pliers on the work bench. You looked at Poe as you slid off your workbench, then wiped your hands on your old, oily rag that was always hanging out your pocket. “When was the last time you had him checked out?”

Poe’s mouth had fallen open in astonishment. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know that I take very good care of my droid!”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Tell that to the disconnected wires. Some of them had come out of their protective casings and they’re exposed.” You grabbed your datapad from its place attached to your belt, scrolling on your parts spreadsheet. “I can’t fix him right now, because my kriffin’ parts delivery hasn’t arrived, but I can fix him later on this week.”

Poe blinked at you, finally closing his mouth. He cleared his throat and rested his hands on his hips. “Will he be okay?”

You quickly look up at him from your datapad, where you had assigned the BB unit the spares that would be coming in. The pilot looked nervous, and, dare you say it, worried for his BB unit. That was rare, to find someone worried for their droids; most of the people you’d met here weren’t too fussed if they could be fixed or not, they just always requested a new one. You sigh as you put your datapad back down. “He’ll be fine. I’ve done a temporary fix. Again, come back in a few days and I’ll fix him properly.”

Poe nodded at you before walking over to BB-8 and powering him back up. The droid looked around before he saw Poe, beeping happily. Poe laughed, rubbing the droid’s head like it was a child. “Told you it wouldn’t be so bad.”

BB-8 beeped back. Your Binary was incredibly rusty, for someone who worked with droids all day. You understood ‘wires’ and ‘mean’, and either ‘this time’ or ‘this plan’; regarding the circumstances, it could have been any of those.

You watched the two interact for a moment. Poe seemed incredibly attentive, even apologising about not getting BB-8 checked out sooner. It made you feel warm, and you could feel your heart beating in your chest. It didn’t help that Poe Dameron was as good looking as his posters showed. He had taken you aback, being stood at your door; you weren’t expecting the Resistance’s Best Pilot to ever come to your work quarters. You felt yourself blushing lightly, your eyes widened at the feeling.

You weren’t there to make friends. You were there to win a war.

“I don’t see you around.”

“Really, you don’t have to…continue this,” you said, motioning between yourself. “Just come back in a few days.”

Poe stared at you for a moment, watching as you started organising your tools. He tried not to distract himself on how good you looked in your overalls as he said, “If it’s worth anything, it won’t hurt to…you know, get out there and meet some people.”

You glare him, ready to tell him what for, since it was none of his business what you did or didn’t do with your spare time, but the look on his face stopped you. He was looking at you not with pity, but with a stern look. Maker, did he have to be so good looking? What was wrong with you? You lightly shrug your shoulder, trying to make yourself look nonchalant. “I’ve gotten this far with no attachments, why would I change that now?”

“Because we’re in a war, and we need all the ‘attachments’ we can get.”

You grab your datapad again, looking blankly at your spreadsheet, just so you didn’t have to look at him anymore. “I’m not sure who you think you are, talking to me about my personal life, but – “

“I am going to the cantina, just off the tarmac,” Poe said, sauntering over to your door, BB-8 finally rolling himself off your workbench with the makeshift ramp you had made. “If you would like to join me, that’s cool. If not, I will see you in a few days, and I’ll just invite you again.”

Curiosity overcomes you and you tear your eyes away from your datapad. Poe has opened the door and is giving you a pointed look. You stare right back, not giving anything away as the temptation to just carry-on working overcomes you, but…you don’t really want to.

You glance at BB-8 as he beeps at you, the first interaction he’d given you since he rolled himself in here. You return you gaze back to Poe, who raised his eyebrows as he smirked at you, motioning with a nod of his head down the corridor as he still held the door open. After a few moments hesitation, you sigh, throwing down your datapad. “Okay.”

Poe gave a little cheer as you walked past him into the corridor, moving him out the way as you closed and locked the door. You turned and started following him and the droid down the corridor, Poe turning to walk backwards to talk to you. “So what’s your name?” You give it, and Poe nods in interest. “I’m Poe Dameron.”

“I know.”

“Ah, so you’re not that much of a hermit.”

You roll your eyes. “Everyone knows who you are, Poe Dameron.”

“But not you.” Poe stops walking, you nearly bumping into him to stop also. He slipped his hands in his pockets as he surveyed you.

You shrug. “I suppose I don’t know you, know you.”

Poe meets your eyes, before grinning. “Let’s change that.”

#star wars #poe dameron x reader #poe x reader #poe dameron x gn!reader #Poe Dameron #bb8 #oscar isaac

[celestie0]

do you feel weird or awkward wiring smut? and how do you make sure not to reuse some of the same words?

oh yes my dear most definitely 🤣🤣 when i write smut it’s just a constant battle in my head like “is this hot or is this absurd 🤔 perhaps both?”

what helps me is just remembering that intimacy in general can be awkward n weird irl so if it’s not perfect on paper then that’s fine too. i think there’s a lot of pressure for smut to come off perfectly sexy n that really kills the drive i have to write it so i try not to get into headspace of thinking it has to be perfect

as for smut dicktion (lmfao pls laugh) hmm honestlyyy i think you just have to read more smut n jot down words you like? 😭 smut vocab is very different from vocab you’d use during narration, fluff, angst etc so you just need to get exposed to it i guess. ppl be creative out there haha so i’d take inspiration from them. but also, its unavoidable to have repetitive words at times, so it’s okay if there is

hope this answerss thx for the ask bb <3

#writing tips #asks #anon

[adiprose-abernath]

A Pudgy Planetary Pitstop

When a motley crew of heros from the vastness of space land on a new planet that seems to be made of edible earth, they might a bite off more (or in their case, much MUCH more) than they can chew.

CW Weight Gain, Unintentional growth, Feederism, belching

In the inky void of space, we come across our crew in a shabby state. Jax lazily bats the navigation, eager for a change on the screen, his tail flicking from side to side in annoyance and disappointment. BB sighs heavily "Do you have eyes on the planet?" "Negative captain," the feline replies, his paw yet again tapping against the screen. Their third crew member is in the vents, moving from place to place to keep an eye that all of their tanks are filled and the wires are in the right place. He takes a wrench and tightens a nut and bolt or two but reluctantly joins the others. "Everything seems to be in tip top shape, Cap. If you don't mind me asking, how much longer til we reach our destination?" Captain BB does not respond, gazing into the emptiness, wishing on the comet that passes by the ship that the answer will be soon.

As if by coincidence, a blip goes off the ships scanners. The idle eyes of Jax flip towards the screen in excitement. "50,000 kilometers and counting, captian. We're almost there!" And lo, the planet begins to grow in their vision, as their auto thrusters engage, readying them for a landing. By 40,000 all the crew are out of their seats and by 30 they're working on their suits. At 20 they finish putting them on and by 10 they gather their materials. The ships computer enters auto pilot and gradually slows the ship to the ground which lands with a thud.

The door hatch opens with a hiss and the crew steps out onto their strange new world. Captain BB takes a fearless foot forward leaving a boot print in the alien soil. "Well boys," he says, a grin in his voice "we made it to Ad1-pr0-53!" The crew gives a slight cheer at the accomplishment of their task and split up to begin setting up their trackers and mobiles. Jax gathers some soil samples while Douglas readies the probes and BB goes inside the ship to ready some food (because after such a long flight, he was huuuuungry). Time flies quickly and the crew manages to make it back inside. Chewing on some space cream, the crew watch as the computer begins to analyze the samples. With bated breath all are silent as it speaks.

"The soil contains 89% carbon, 7% oxygen, 3% hydrogen, and 1% nitrogen. This soil is: suitable for consumption." Jax frowns, puzzled for a second. "I set it to detecting if we could put seeds here, not if it was EDIBLE." Jax continues to hit buttons, going through the readings. "Apparently it tastes like...gingerbread?" The crew all look at each other, having had spend decades in cryostasis without something even close to solid or sweet and each take a slight piece from it and bite down. A flavorful waterfall cascades down their tounges as wave after wave of delicate sweetness bombards their brains and bodies with pure ecstasy. In that moment, the crew knew that they had landed on something really special and needed a form of testing a computer could not comprehend: taste testing.

Ignoring the warning signs from their computer, the crew burst out of the ship hungrily grabbing at the ground. Jax filled paw after paw in his maw, greedily gorging on gingerbread ground and gravel. Douglas sped quickly to a pond of butterscotch and drinking like it were air. The captain wasted no time heading for the peppermint poppies and porkishly pilfering every peice in his mouth.

Unbeknownst to our soon-to-be hefty heros, the computer was unable to tell them that the caloric value of the planet was 10 times as strong as that on earth. So what mightve been a simple binge would become something more. Jaxs slender sides began to slowly swell, turning from skinny to average to chunky. The butterscotch lake ballooned Douglas, his belly bloating and building bigger and bigger. And BB would live up to his title, his pecs from perky would sag as pudge is added to his frame. The cat began to notice the pudge when his crouch became harder to maintain with a belly in the way. At this point, however, he ignored his instincts and continued to ravage the earth, his belly brushing the ground as pound after pound piled on. Bigger and bigger he grew from 150 to 200 and 230 and 240. The butterscotch was not much better as blubber became bigger and bouncier as Douglas' endless gluttony took over filling his mouth with delicious sweetness, struggling to reach with a new chin that graced his face. The captain landed with a thud next to the tree, now nearly twice his size and, while grimacing, stabbing a spigot to the tree and sucking the sticky sap from its spout, his ass growing and growing with every gulp.

The porkish protagonists became unrecognizable, a hole filled with fur as Jax's suit failed to contain the fattening feline, the shoreline thinner and thinner as Douglas grew thicker and thicker, and the trees tuckered out as the captains calories soared by thousands on thousands.

Soon our hapless heros began to grow full, in a haze from their gratuitous gluttony, bellies nigh bursting, bellowing belches on belches in a cacophonous calorific chorus. Jax struggled to his side, rubbing his round stomach, barely cognizant of his binge. Douglas too needed a breather (and a belch) as butterscotch brewed in his belly slowly but surely turning to fat. And our captain nearly blew up, his stomach taut as a balloon, unable to breathe without popping.

Slowly but surely our heros would find rest on this planet and wake up hours later, hundreds of pounds heavier and ever hungrier for another stuffing session that'd rival a black hole.

#male weight gain #gaining fiction #fat belly

[earhartsease]

what's the most autistic achievement you've ever made? we'll start (sorry bit of a long story coming now - read on if you want a small heap of casual woodwind instrument knowledge)

it's spring of 1985, we're *counts* 22 years old and in our first year of an intense af course learning to make and repair woodwind instruments (which we will a year later tumble out of due to getting ME/CFS, as it turned out)

anyway, one of our old friends (well we'd known each other since we were 11 so) asked us to service her father's bass clarinet - if you're not familiar with those, they look thus

and they're played almost exactly like your normal Bb clarinet that you might have seen or played in a school band, but all an octave lower

the important part here is all that keywork

like there's just a lot of it - and the keywork was what brought the instrument to our tiny college workshop desk

because what happened was this was a pretty nice bass clarinet, and it had silver plated keys (often on the more basic/cheaper instruments the keys will be nickel-plated), and he'd put one of those classic yellow duster cloths you get in the case to wipe the instrument down with, and the cloth had come from china and had some kind of chemical in it that basically took some of the silver off the keywork it was pressed against

we showed the instrument to our repairing tutor and he was keen for us to do the work on it - which meant not only giving the thing a full service and repadding the keys (they have little pads under the cups which press against the edges of the holes underneath to make a seal - on standard clarinets back then they were either synthetic or handmade with fish bladder skin of all things, but on posher ones or bass clarinets they used white leather pads sorry long parenthesis) but also to strip off all of the keywork and get it replated

bloody hell this is getting long

anyway we did this, so before tweaking everything that needed tweaking we took off all the keys, and unscrewed all the pillars that are set into the wood (african blackwood, dalbergia melanoxylon) of the instrument's body, and strung them carefully in order on a steel wire to send off for replating

we were off college for a couple of weeks because of the fucking fatigue, and when we got back the guy who'd sent the metalwork off for us for replating looked sombre and handed us a box - the plating had come back beautifully done, but "I'm afraid the wire broke" and all of the pillars and posts were just in a jumble in the box - and there's two of these things for each key or lever or whatever, it's like over 50 of them (from the top and bottom halves of the instrument, which comes apart for storage) - and they're each unique, each can only go in one specific place because they're all different heights and so on

and we looked at them, and they looked at us - and then we cried havoc and let slip the dogs of autism, and worked out by means of jigsawlike logic and memory and sense and got it all back together - this took us three weeks, and when we showed our tutor and the class we got a huge round of applause, and he admitted he didn't think it could be done

now we feel a bit stupid writing about this, but can you imagine the fucking satisfaction involved in this?! like putting together a watch that someone else had taken apart and handed you in a teacup

so, we also want to introduce you to the bass clarinet sound if you're not familiar - first the godsdamn king, Eric Dolphy

and here's it being played beautifully and lyrically with some Bach originally for cello - we literally just found this and are in love

thank you for indulging our autism, we hope you learned new things you enjoyed learning - now tell us yours if you want to?

#bass clarinets #woodwind repair #bloody long post #autistic achievements

[jakeyt]

any eta on ch 7? I CANT WAITTTTTTTTTT

Hey bb!! <3

I am currently working on it….. hoping to have it out within the next couple weeks!

Though, my teacher life is firing back up, and I’m coming down to the wire on school beginning, and getting everything ready for my students….. 😭 Summer is too damn short!

I do intentionally carve out time for Covet, though, so it will get attention. Just, right now, it’s not getting as much as I want it to… due to my job & personal life. 😭

I’m making it my personal mission to get it to you before August is over. We shall see if I triumph! 🤞🏻🖤

#it’s tough having such a passion for writing while simultaneously having one of the most demanding jobs on planet earth #:( #covet #asks

[tomahawk-swing]

Dingo was in the zone. Heavy rock musing blasted through the earphones covering his ears, his pencil gliding with ease along the paper sheet. Even math exercises suddenly felt easy, like his brain was finally wired the right way.

Of course, he was only doing the most basic exercices. Start small, work your way up. He still had plenty of content left to catch up on after missing school for so many years.

He tapped the sheet with the rubber-end of his pencil, his eyes stopping on a formula for a second. The numbers and letters danced in his mind, switching places until they formed a coherent ensemble, the solution suddenly springing to his eyes with a faint electric noise.

Dingo didn’t immediately realized that the music had stopped in his headphones, replaced with the low hum of the noise-cancelling technology. He happily jotted the answer down, only for a frown to cross his mind.

Math wasn’t supposed to be easy. He must have missed something.

“You have to calculate what’s inside the parenthesis first. Then you can bring the parts together!”

Dingo nodded... and did a double take. He threw his arm out, pushing the source of that horrific voice far from him.

She stood there in flesh and bone, green hair put up in an untidy bun, lavender eyes glinting with a malicious sparkle. She hadn’t even bothered to wear a disguise, instead donning a plain white coat – an immaculate one.

Andou Tsukiko. Japan’s most wanted criminal.

“Hey! What’s that for a thank you? I was only trying to help!” Andou protested, without departing from her toothy grin. “That’s just basic math. And you’re supposed to be a high schooler?”

Dingo had already forgotten all about the math problems. Rage boiled inside his chest, fire spreading through his veins, fists closing so tight that his pencil snapped in clean halves.

“How dare you... how dare you show your face here, you piece of shit?! How did you even get here?! The NetPolice’s got your face up on every wanted BBS in the Cyberworld! If even a single camera sees your ugly mug, you’ll have the entire NetPolice on your back in a second!”

Andou had a little chuckle to herself.

“Thanks for your concern, NetPolice dog. How dumb do you think I am? I didn’t become an evil genius on a whim!” She wedged an index finger against her temple. “Unlike you, I actually think before I act! It’s called being clever!”

Dingo could practically feel his teeth grind from how hard he clenched his jaw. He leapt from his chair, a fist raised behind his shoulder, aiming for a devastating punch to that despicable face.

Electricity cracked in the air, much louder this time. It wasn’t the noise of braincells rubbing together, like Dingo had previously assumed.

He caught sight of that noise’s source right in time. A taser, quite clearly charged higher than the usual voltage.

“Nifty, isn’t it? It’s my new favorite toy. Sit down for a bit, won’t you? I’d hate to have to show you it’s effects on you... like I did with your little friend right here.”

His PET! He had abandoned it back on his bed with his tomahawk, and let Tomahawkman handle the playlist. The screen was already pitch black, no noise coming from the PET.

Dingo crashed back into his desk chair, biting his lip in frustration. He had no way to tell whether the PET had shut down to salvage its data, or whether it was already fried.

“Let’s see... I think you should leave a little note behind before we depart on our trip. It wouldn’t be the first time you vanished without saying goodbye, would it? It’ll send your lovely friends on a false route!”

She walked closer to the desk, the taser crackling menacingly in her hands.

Dingo racked his brains for an idea. Anything, even the smallest little hint that he wasn’t writing this note out of his own accord. He tore a page from his notebook and grabbed another pencil, the tip gliding down the page in his usual, hardly readable scribbles.

“Maha,

Hate to say that you should’ve seen this coming… Even if you did, you couldn’t have stopped me. Let’s just say it’s not your fault, alright? Please don’t be mad at yourself.

See ya,

Dingo”

Andou gave a quick glance at the note, her expression unreadable. She motioned to the closet across the room with her chin, holding the taser close enough that Dingo felt his hair stand on end.

“Good. Now go get yourself a couple clean shirts, or whatever teenage boys even wear these days. Make it seem like you didn’t plan to be home for a while, alright?”

Dingo bit back the urge to kick her across the room. He had seen that woman move under pressure, and knew that her reflexes were quick enough to catch on. He would be on the floor writhing before he could land a punch.

He did as he was told, and collected his old travelling backpack from the back of his warbrobe. He tossed in a few spare outfits in the bag, and felt something prod against his back.

He froze up, expecting pain to immediately shoot through his being... only to recognize the familiar shape of his tomahawk’s hammer-like end.

“Don’t forget this. You carry it ‘round with you all the time, don’t you?”

Dingo eyed Andou with blatant disgust, and tore the tomahawk from her grip. He slung the bag over his shoulder, only to feel something prodding at his stomach this time.

Blinding pain coursed through Dingo’s frame. It shot through his stomach and spread to his limbs, hot lava pouring through his veins, his every muscle sizing up. The world flashed white, the buzzing noise increasing to defeaning levels, as if his entire bedroom had just blown up.

When Dingo opened his eyes again, he was on the floor. Spasms shook his frame as Andou walked closer, dropping to his level with her wrists propped on her knees. Her gaze had lost all hints of amusement, venom dripping from her voice.

“That’s for thinking you could fool me with that message, you sneaky little brat.”

She immediately regained her cheery tone.

“How about that taser, huh? Pretty effective, ain’t it? I can’t believe these things are almost legal! Guns are fun, but they’re messy and noisy. Tasers, though? As long as you can touch your opponent, it’s an instant win! One-hit KO!”

She pocketed the little device, and wagged the PET in front of Dingo’s vacant gaze.

“Oh, and don’t worry, I didn’t grill your little friend in here. Those things are pretty well insulated, after all. All I did was overload the poor battery, so your Navi wouldn’t rat me out. I need him in one piece! It’s not true experimenting if your test subject isn’t healthy!”

She placed the PET in her opposite pocket, and traded it for a few zipties. With Dingo still too stunned to move, she tied his wrists behind his back and his ankles together.

“Can’t have you try to kick me when we’re travelling. Would be a shame if we landed in different places, don’t you think? Of course, I’d easily find my way back... but I can’t say the same about you.”

Perhaps it was the aftershock of the taser, but Dingo couldn’t make any sense of Andou’s words. Travelling? Different places? What the hell did she even mean?!

“I hope you didn’t have too much of that curry for dinner. You guys really live up to your reputation, y’know? And here I thought that curry served by former criminals could only be yet another scam! It’s a shame I don’t have time to get some to go while we’re on our way... Alas!”

She brought a hand at about her chest’s height, palm facing the ground. With a swift motion of her opposite hand, an holographic screen appeared above the back of her hand.

“Let’s see... We’ll just head back right where I came from, just this once. But don’t worry, we’ll be moving again shortly. Can’t risk having your little friends catch up with me after a leap or two! I wanna make this a fun chase for everyone, after all!”

Her monologue went on uninterrupted, with Dingo’s thoughts still too foggy to form any sort of response. He watched through a blur as her fingers danced on the screen, typing what looked to be an intricate set of coordinates. She tapped one last panel, and grabbed Dingo by the hood of his sweater.

“You ready? There’s a chance you’ll pass out, and a slight chance you’ll disintegrate entirely. Have a nice trip!”

Flash. The room fell into darkness... now devoid of any inhabitants.

#[[me? teasing more instead of actually moving the plot forward? more likely than you think #this week is going to kick my butt but next weekend!!! i should be able to sit down and gather people up hehe #don't hesitate to link me to any posts i might have missed pertaining to the boys' disappearance :3 ]] #[[i still need a tag for this plot don't i]] #drabble

[nuri148]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks....

Hi Anon! Thank you so much for the ask! No, I hadn’t been asked this before.

It was quite hard to come up with 10 names for, outside of my current blorbos, throughout my life (which is quite longer than that of most people around this site) I’ve consumed and loved a lot of fiction, and so I’ve loved many characters, but also many of them I fell in love when I was too young to know (or remember) why I liked them, or know anything about characterization at all.

Still, I tried to cover a wide variety of works/genres, which as I racked my brains came with some interesting revelations:

- The first characters that came to mind were all males. It took me an extra effort to recall some female characters that I love.

- The list is white af. This can be for a number of reasons, all related to complex societal dynamics, cultural constructs and how the media portrays or ignores this. This is meant a light hearted ask, so I won’t delve into that, but I did want it to make clear that yes, I’m aware this list lacks diversity.

Some of these media I haven't seen for years so apologies if my memory of some details is not very accurate.

Last but not least, as I don’t like the reductionism of “top x”, I am listing with bullets for these come in no particular order. (Except Levi, of course; as current top Blorbo he could actually fill the top 10 by himself.)

Levi Ackerman (AoT) – He kicks ass, he’s a no-nonsense guy, he’s got a rough exterior but it’s a kind person. He’s had a shitty life but he chooses to be the good guy, even if he has to resort to violence sometimes.

Severus Snape (HP) – I said it already and I’ll say it again that I’ve no proof and no doubt that if you were a Snape fangirl, you’ll be a Levi fangirl. Snape makes Levi look like Miss Congeniality in comparison. He too had a rough life,went over to the dark side, yet realised he’d fucked up big time and spent the rest of his life trying to minimize the damage his actions had caused. PLUS he’s a huge nerd.

Mike Ehrmentraut (BB/BCS) – Mike is SO OVER being a badass. He just wants to live a quite life spoiling his grandaughter. His curse is being too good at what he does, and he can’t help but care about the idiots that would die if he wasn’t there to clean their messes. (On the topic of diversity... Honorable mention for Stanley from The Office and Lester from The Wire, whose “I’m too old for this shit” vibes give me life).

Arya Stark (GOT) – She didn’t stay around suffering for her losses nor went into a rampage, nope. She took the long scenic route to become a pro killer to serve her revenge in a cold dish.

Heidi (from the 70's anime series)– Hands down my first and oldest Blorbo. She lived in the mountains, roamed barefoot on beautiful meadows, was friends with a bunch of goats and all the little critters of the alps. What’s not to love? (At the ripe age of 3, I would make my mum buy me goat cheese bc if Heidi ate it, so must I. At 4 my parents took me to the mountains in winter so I could see the snow and the fir trees that Heidi loved. We’re rewatching now and my new Heidi Blorbo is Joseph the dog, he’s got big Mike Ehrmentraut energy).

Jesse Pinkman (BB)– He’s a good guy who fell into the wrong path. He’s had rotten luck, partly brought onto himself through bad choices and poor judgement, yet he still tries to do good and craves some love.  

Petunia Dursley (HP)- Harry's unlikable aunt kinda grew on me over the years, as we saw some of her backstory and how it resonated with parts of my own family history. She grew up knowing herself the lesser child and I believe she never got a chance to smooth things over with Lily. In spite of which P. still cared enough to do the right thing and take charge of Harry (horribly, admittedly).

Omar Little (The Wire) - I don't usually like "bad" characters but Omar was more badass than he was bad. Circumstances made him a violent criminal but he I believe he had redemption potential. Also, how cool is it that he was unequivocally gay in a setting where everyone tends to be so macho... but of course no one would say anything about it. bc it's Omar.

Peter - he's the MC and first person narrator from a rather unknown Ray Bradbury's short story titled “I’m not so dumb” which is one of my favourite Bradbury's tales. Like the title suggests, as the story unfolds the simple-minded Peter will try to show his neighbours that he's not that stupid.

Mafalda - I could not leave out the title character of the (likely) most famous comic in Argentine history. Mafalda's concern for world affairs is of course unrealistic, but it does sort of put those call-outs "in the mouth of babes".

[fereldanwench]

Pairing Playlist

I was tagged by @katsigian, @gloryride, @pheedraws, @bnbc, and @nightcxty to share 5 songs that I associate with my OTP. 💙 Thank you, bbs! Sorry I took so long to do this. And I'm not gonna tag anyone since I got to this so late, but as always, feel free to use this as a sign to do it if you want to!

DON'T LET ME GO by RAIGN [x]

Where do we go when we walk on light? Who do we call at the edge of night? Carry me close like the teardrops in your eyes All I can give you is memories Carry them with you and I'll never leave I'll lay my head down, but when I lay my head down Don't let me go Hold me in your beating heart I won't let go Forever is not enough

BODY by LICK ft LUNA AURA [x]

Know what it's like to keep it inside The fire and fight inside me No, you can't hide that look in your eyes Baby electrify me Tell me what you want from me I'll tell you what I want from you I want you to put— Your hands on my body Come on baby, tell me I've been on your mind I know you can do it right

WHEN IS THE FUTURE by VNV NATION [x]

A city that is breathing Living through the cables Alive across the wires Faces without names Playing devils and angels Lit up by the strobes Moving hypnotized I caught your reflection In the neon on glass An electric silhouette Against the static sky It's a beautiful dream It's a beautiful life It's just a reflection A world I must survive We're children of the past Who look beyond today Designing the present So when is the future

THAT DEATH CANNOT TOUCH by THE BLACK QUEEN [x]

Put down your bags You're much too young to be tired Just pull away from the past We'll let it crush you with a smile Always Dragging pain across the floor I know hell's where you've been But death can't touch you anymore

VENGER by PERTURBER [x]

Every night the dream's always the same Can't escape these walls of dark decay Feel me drowning underneath the waves Every time it never seems to change Took you away and now They're gonna get it, all I have You know now you're gone And I just want to have you back again Hollow heart is all I have today Someone came and pulled away the veins They stitched it up and put me on display But nothing seems to cure me of the pain Took you away and now They're gonna get it, all I have You know now you're gone And I just want to have you back again

#oc: valerie v powell #c: goro takemura #ship: goro x valerie #g: cyberpunk 2077 #tumblr stop fucking with small text challenge dfkjghdfjgdf #oc snippets #tumblr: dash games #inspo: music