#❛ GALAXIES SPILL FROM THESE LIPS ❜ ( headcanon. )

[dark-elf-writes]

🖕For Hizashi, specifically Two Heroes Hizashi?

Send in a character or characters and an icon and I’ll give you…

🖕 A headcanon relating to anger

Ahdjhshs I love Two Heroes Hizashi and anger okay?

The first thing the ever felt was anger, burning bright under their skin like a flame. They are three years old and the muzzle hurts where it bites into their skin. It wasn’t their fault that their quirk was so strong. They didn’t ask for this. They’re just as scared as everyone else.

It doesn’t matter. It never does.

They are fourteen with blood dripping from their knuckles and a cigarette held between their lips. The fire never left them, if anything it only grew, star-bright and forever burning in their chest. They don’t wear the muzzle much anymore, the marks hidden behind hastily applied concealer they stole from the store, and the words spill from them nearly constantly as if to make up for lost time.

No one listens. They never do.

They are fifteen on the roof of the school of their dreams, legs kicking idly over the edge as the girl settles next to them. She burns like they do, anger in every exhale and ashes coating her lips. She snags one of their cigarettes and gives them a smile that shines int he firelight coming off of them both. “You can’t prove them wrong if you burn out too soon, starlight. At least make them pay before you go supernova”

They get the offer for private lessons from Nezu the next morning. For the first time, they wonder if maybe things can be different. If people can listen. Can want to.

They are thirty years old looking at a child that contains galaxies with a burn scar stretched across their throat to match the scar that cuts across Hizashi’s nose and cheeks. Green eyes full of light and rage look back at them. It’s like looking in a mirror.

Hizashi smiles, letting a bit of their own fire show, a bit of the heat escape on their laugh (fae Tensei called them) and cups those freckles cheeks between their palms. “Your anger, Sweetheart, will be a sight to behold, and I for one would hate to miss it.”

[wri0thesley]

nat! i know you've written a lot of "walking in on reader masturbating and moaning their name" headcanons for JoJo. can i ask for some with the Jujutsu Kaisen boys? (I don't know what your rules are for amount of people in JJK but maybe Gojo, Nanami, Getou and Toji? Sukuna and Mahito if you're feeling those too!)

oho anon, this is one of those tropes i can never get tired of writing

♡ Gojo probably knew what was going on before he even walked in on you. Very little slips by him, and even less slips past his Six Eyes; he’s probably noticed how your eyes seem to slide over him and then you perhaps wet your lip, shift a little. He’s used to being the subject of adoration; he finds the fact you obviously have a crush on him adorable. Alright, he hadn’t realised just how far your crush had gotten - but he’s cocky enough that he can’t blame you. Still. He makes a big deal about throwing open the door, opening his mouth as if to say something-- a smirk on his lips as you pull up the covers of your bed, embarrassment flooding your face. The door is closed behind him. He lifts his blindfold enough that you’re once again captivated by those eyes with their shifting galaxies and constellations - his mouth looks so inviting, and your body (so close to your release, and yet so far) gives a throb as if to say ‘you haven’t finished yet’. You don’t know if the fact that Gojo hasn’t said anything is a good thing or a bad thing, and you take a long, shuddering breath. 

His lips stretch into a grin. He moves towards you quickly, already pulling off his clothes - again, he’s cocky enough to think that you won’t say no. When he lands on your bed with a thump, he’s immediately caging your body underneath his, all bright, manic energy.

“Was I good in your head, doll? Because lemme tell you, it won’t compare at all to the genuine article--”

- ♡ -

♡ Nanami is a gentleman to the bone. He probably heard his name and opened the door, thinking you were calling for him - not expecting to see your eyes closed, your thighs pressed with your hands between them, your chest heaving. He actually panics a little at first; his first instinct is to close the door immediately, pretend this has never happened (and probably touch himself to the thought of it later, because he can already feel his body responding). It’s the sigh, the cant of your hips, the muffled whimper again of “Kento--” coming out of your mouth that makes him stay. He’s been hankering after you for months, never imagining that you’d feel the same way--

He clears his throat and your eyes snap open. There he is; the object of your fantasies, in his neat shirt and tie, removing his glasses and looking at you with those sharp, incrutable eyes. At first, you think he is going to chastise you for being so unprofessional. And then, he takes a step towards the bed, and then another. His eyes linger over your skin, and it feels as though Nanami is taking in more than just your sweaty, needy form. 

“I--I’m more than willing to help with that,” he says, eventually. “If you’re amenable.”

Oh. You sure are. 

- ♡ -

♡ Geto will be polite. He’s polite in a smug way, though - taking his time to look over your form before you notice he’s there. Like Gojo, he’d have seen you looking at him - encouraged it with a slow smile, a hand on your shoulder that perhaps lingered a little too long. He thought you would break for him eventually, but he never imagined that it would happen like this - not that he’s complaining.

You know he’s there because he murmurs your name, like he’s rolling something delicious in his mouth, like he’s savouring catching you like this. Still, never let it be said he isn’t chivalrous - when you go to apologise, already burning, Geto smiles at you indulgently. 

“You could have just asked,” he says to you, raising one perfect eyebrow. “Would you like to do that now?” Getou would like to hear you say it; wants it to spill from your lips the same way he just heard his name doing. If you don’t ask him, he probably will simply smile that inscrutable smile of his and leave. Thankfully, you choose the right option. You whimper out a soft plea for some assistance, now that you know that he’s pleased to have found you in this state--

“Ah,” he says, as he reaches a hand to his chin, cupping his face, tilting it to one side. “Good. If you’ll allow me - I can think of something that might feel better than your fingers--” 

- ♡ -

♡ Toji is going to make the most of this. Toji is utterly shameless - the thing that alerts you to his presence is a low laugh, cigarette-rough and whisky smooth. You immediately open your eyes, press your legs closer together, bite your lip - only for Toji to move closer towards you (not closing your door), like a wolf stalking a rabbit. He’s not just moving towards you like a predator - he’s looking at you like one, sizing you up, caressing every single inch of your body bared for him (he’s been doing that for months, imagining under your clothes - might as well get a fair look at the real thing). There’s that laugh again, when you hopelessly reach for the covers to tug them over yourself only to be stopped by one of Toji’s big hands. 

“Aww, no need to get shy now, sweetheart. I don’t mind lookin’ at ya.”

His hand on yours travels up your arm, sending sparks of fire through you - making your heart beat so fast you can barely breathe, making your mind short-circuit. He touches you more - palming at your chest, chuckling at how you lean into his touch unconsciously. The bed dips down under his weight and you make a soft noise of surprise that he thinks is the cutest fuckin’ thing he’s heard in an age. His other hand rests on your thigh, rough against your soft skin, looking so big on you that he can barely stand it--

“You gonna show me how wet ya got thinkin’ about me, huh?” 

- ♡ -

♡ Sukuna is another person . . . being . . . who will not be shameless at all that he’s caught you. Do not expect him to let you know that you’ve been caught in any way that sounds like or relates to the terms ‘tactfully’, ‘carefully’ or ‘quietly’. The minute Sukuna sees you doing that, his name on your lips like a prayer, you are going to find yourself pinned beneath all four arms, his massive size dwarfing you, his eyes running all over your prone body like he owns it.

He basically does, now. You’ve as good as expressed your devotion to him, and Sukuna expects devotion to be made good on. You’re his now, for better or for worse, so hopefully you really thought about it before you even started this whole thing. He won’t bother asking as he pulls a kiss from your mouth, teeth digging into your bottom lip, eyes hungry. 

“As pretty as this sight is, little morsel,” he says, his voice so deep that it makes your toes curl, your body clench around the fingers you almost definitely still have inside you because Sukuna was simply on you that quickly. “You should know that you don’t deserve any pleasure until mine’s been satisfied--”

- ♡ -

♡ Mahito will not make any attempt to be shamed about the position he’s found you in. Hell, you probably don’t even notice him until he’s right beside you and he’s bending over you, eyes wide, smile on his face. He’s fascinated by it, more than anything - the way your chest is heaving, the light sheen of sweat on your forehead, the way your teeth keep biting into your lower lip, the fan of your lashes against your cheeks - the impassioned murmurs of his name, sounding very pretty in your mouth--

You actually open your eyes and notice him because he touches you, unable to resist seeing if your skin feels any different (hotter, he notes). You moan even as you blink at him through syrupy eyelids - for a minute, you don’t register what’s even going on, because the moment that Mahito has found out touching you gets that kind of reaction, he’s going to enthusiastically touch you more, and this feels exactly like a scene from one of your fantasies.

You’re brought back to earth, and the fact that yes, the curse is really right there, and yes, his fingers are immediately heading southwards to see what kind of noises he can wrest from you there, by Mahito’s head tipping to the side as he asks you (with a hint of curiousity in his tone and a hint of wickedness);

“Are all humans this sensitive? Or are you just special?”

-  ♡ -

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

it’s like heaven’s song to me

proposal headcanons ig 

also the reader is gender neutral, but the twst boy is the one proposing btw (if ur gonna be weird abt the gender shit, pls get the fuck out of my account)

Vil proposes twice to you. The first proposal to you is the real one, the one that he’s been planning forever for, the one where he truly spills his heart about how he wants to spend his entire life with you, the one where the man you see in front of you is Vil Schoenheit himself. Not the haughty model, not the talented actor, not the perfectionist influencer, but the dear person that you fell for and eagerly pledge your own never ending loyalty to.

His real proposal comes to you after a night out at the theater with you. He lets you choose the film, naturally, and he can’t help but laugh a little when you choose one with him in the starring lead as if it were the most absolute thing in the world. The entire time the movie runs, his gaze isn’t on the screen, but rather, it’s on you. He observes you, every curve and dip of your face, your parted lips as you take in the wonder of him playing his brilliant persona on the reflected screen, the years of his future he can envision with you at his side.

The second proposal is a proposal for the public, one that his work hounds him into doing. He makes sure that you’re comfortable with such a grand public gesture, and you can’t help but be tickled a little at the thought of declaring your love for the entire world. Vil is admittedly not as fond of the idea, but an idealistic part of his heart does flutter a little at the thought of proposing to you once again and hearing you accept him once more.

Of course, you’ll have to go through two weddings with him in the same manner: a quiet one for your real wedding and a much more grander one for PR reasons. Each one will be just as romantic as the other, and when you gaze at Vil, dressed finely before you as your groom, smiling from ear-to-ear with nothing but the purest form of love welling up in his violet eyes, it’s clear that nothing but marital bliss awaits you within the heaven you found in his arms.

“I promise to make you happy, my darling. I’ll have it so that not a single frown appears on your face or a shadow of doubt flicker across your eyes. Let’s do our best together, my dearest love.”

For someone who talks big, proposals are still a daunting task for Ace. He has no doubt that you’re the one he wants to marry, you’re the one he wants to dedicate himself to, you’re the one he wants to grow old and wrinkly with. But despite that certainty, he still spends a great amount of time painstakingly reviewing everything he wants to do. From picking out a gorgeous ring to practicing what he’s going to say to Deuce and to his reflection in the mirror (to the point that Deuce throws a pillow at him whenever Ace asks him to practice together), he wants each moment to be as magical for you as it was for him.

Ace proposes at the most romantic place he can think of: the planetarium. He thinks there’s something fitting about how he can picture the entire universe whenever you hold his hand, and he thinks there’s something wonderful about how he can see millions of stars and constellations reflected in your shining eyes whenever his gaze meets yours. With a pounding heart and an excited mind, he readies himself to pop the big question.

Once the lights dim and all you can feel is his breathing next to you, the faux stars and planets begin to float and rise up like bubbles within the planetarium. Ace has already prepared it so that it’s just the two of you, and when your vision is filled with nothing but the twinkling galaxies and planetary systems of eternity above your head, Ace gets down on one knee and asks you the question that’s been stuck in his throat ever since the day he fell in love with you.

Your wedding will be made out of the same material of your sweetest dreams. Ace works so hard to make sure that you enjoy every second of it. And every moment of it is indeed like a fairy tale come to life, from the beginning all the way until the two of you are stumbling out of the wedding venue with makeup, clothes, and hair slightly undone, ready to head to both your honeymoon and another chapter, surely the first of many, in your lives together.

“I’ve liked you a real long time, you know that right? I hope you feel the same. So... Let’s cut the weird flowery talk, and get straight to the point. Marry me!”

Rook loves the thrill of everything beautiful, and what better way to celebrate beauty than through the declaration of truest love? Using his beloved bow and arrow, the huntsman leaves a letter imploring you to meet him within the deepest heart of the forest, where the two of you can spend your time together unbothered and undisturbed from the rest of the world, as the two of you take the next and most precarious step in your relationship. His penmanship has evolved, but the love he holds for you remains the same, weaving verses of breathtaking poetry to try and convey his heart the best he can.

Rook proposes in a clearing in the woods, where the birds and flowers and Mother Nature herself can come and celebrate in your joyous union. Rook can’t think of a more beautiful and romantic place to ask you for your hand, other than taking you back to your roots and admiring how much love the world has to offer. He wants to take that love and reflect it back onto you, vowing to give you a marital life that makes your heart well up with affection and joy.

Contrary to expectation, Rook holds himself back from whipping out a lengthy speech. He keeps it curt and genuine, only letting the most sincere words of love slip past his lips. You can see yourself reflected in his earnest eyes, as he holds out a ring from one knee, and in that moment, you know that there’s no one else in the world who could see the world as Rook does, love the world as Rook does, and embrace you all the same, with only gratitude and a zeal for even more of that same essence of life that keeps him going day after day.

The wedding is affectionate and hearty, with him extolling everything beautiful he sees. When he takes your hand at the altar and whispers his vows, the ultimate declaration of love that he holds for you, transitioning from a mere lover to your soulmate, you’re sure that the happy ending so many people have dreamed of exists right before your very eyes. And when Rook leans in to capture a kiss from your chaste lips, you seal your fate within his trusting hands and let yourself fall not from grace, but into the depths of an indescribable love that only someone as creative and mysterious as Rook could grant you.

“Mon ange... Let us fly away, like a pair of lovebirds, high into the sky together. Let me steal you away, now and forevermore, as a wedded pair until the day we part from this world for good.”

Love feels so close yet so far from Cater, and it seems surreal to him that the day he would propose would even come. He’s held his fears and his worries about finding love, but when you’ve waited for him, for months and for years, for him to finally open his heart up and accept the fact that he’s deserving of the same happiness that he’s enviously watched others pursue, Cater comes to terms with the fact that he wants to spend his life with nobody else but you.

Cater wants to be himself when he proposes to you, rather than any of the playful masks he’s so expertly crafted over the years. So he resolves to be vulnerable and to bear himself before you, and when he prepares to propose, he decides on taking you out to the place where he first confessed to you and first tasted what love was truly like: a sweetness spreading on the tip of his tongue, the subtle heat flashing beneath his cheeks, a tingling in the crevices of his chest that left him feeling so meek yet confident all at the same time.

He proposes to you shyly, meeting your eyes with watering eyes and telling you that he wants nothing more than to make you as happy as he’s made him. It’s a simple proposal, completely unlike the excessive shows of adoration you’re accustomed to from Cater, but it’s a gesture that conveys to you how serious and how dedicated he is about taking this next step, and he’s resolved to do nothing except devote himself into trusting you and trusting the love he’s steadily built up over a long, long time.

Your wedding to Cater is the sort of heartwarming union that Cater’s longed for for as far as he can remember, and when he offers his arm for you to take, he can’t help but thank whatever divine being watches over him for giving him a chance to fall in love both with you, but with life again. Even after the wedding is over and the two of you prepare to greet a new chapter of your lives, Cater promises to never lose this feeling of hope that you’ve given him by entrusting him with your hand in marriage, and he never ever wants to lose the feeling of your warm smile and your sweet kisses embedded deeply into his soul.

“I’ve loved you for a long time, longer than I ever realized. I’ve only ever wanted you, and you’re the only one I could see myself loving until the day I die. I love you, truly, from the bottom of my heart. Will you marry me?”

x

[bambiswriting]

Comforting Rex - headcanons!

Warnings: None! Just fluffy stuff! 

A/N: Now that I am a so-deemed “Rexpert” by @rebeldaydreams, I thought I’d supply some Rex headcanons! These started as hug hcs but now they’re more “what would comfort and calm Rex between missions?” 

I knew I needed to get my first writing on this account out the way otherwise I’d keep being scared to post and never would have 😂 A huge thank you to @rebeldaydreams for encouraging me to start this blog up and for bouncing ideas off my rambles!

Reader is a tactician for the 501st who was sent at the behest of the Jedi council. They wanted to round out Anakin's battle plans to be more consistent and less of the "I'm gonna make some sarky comments and cut some droids down" attitude. Rex and reader go on nearly every campaign together aside from when reader is on leave (not being Kaminoan property means she is legally required to take more time off field). The two develop a relationship during the clone wars, but they try to keep it on the downlow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rex is naturally a physically affectionate person, which shocked you at first. Maybe he's touch starved? He doesn't really get much physical comfort while on duty (which probably attributes for his stoic role Captaining the 501st) aside from the occasional pat on the back from Fives or high five from Ahsoka, so at ease in your quarters he can just revel in it. And actually, it's through this ease with you that he starts to naturally extend a bit more affection to his brothers, while still keeping it professional, of course.

You wouldn't call him needy by any stretch, but you can definitely tell when he's yearning for your touch. If you have a day together around the apartment but you're preoccupied by cooking or other chores, you'll get an occasional pry for love from him. He comes towards you with his arms open in question, and sighs contentedly when you step into them. He loves holding his hand against the back of your head and squishing his face into your hair. He loves just inhaling the smell of you.

Another thing you realise about Rex is how much he enjoys soft things. You bought him a bunch of civilian clothes to wear at your place when you first started dating. Mainly comfy pyjama bottoms and shirts for him to lounge around in. You know that anywhere else in the galaxy he can't just fall into relaxation and calm, so you do your best to give him that environment to come to when possible. Anything to lift the burden of war.

 You have this one blanket that hangs over the back of your sofa, so similar to how he requests hugs, on the colder days he shuffles up behind you with the blanket draped around his shoulders like a bat and pulls it around you, too. He wraps his arms across your torso and nuzzles his chin into your shoulder.

If he's moving past you, he ghosts his hand along your waist. Expect a warm cheek kiss, too. If you're lost in thought and don't acknowledge the first kiss, he comes back in and peppers you with an abundance of kisses.

Rex likes being the big spoon. He takes great pride in being the one to keep you safe and protected. He often wonders if you were destined to be together through the ways of the Force due to how perfectly your bodies fit together. He loves the way you curl into his side.

But that doesn’t mean he’s not sometimes the little spoon. After particularly hard missions like Umbara he comes trudging in through the door and tries to pretend he's fine until eventually you press him to come settle. You assume the big spoon position. He lays his head in your lap and gets really relaxed when you lightly scratch and trail your fingers across his scalp. He likes pressing his ear right against your chest because it calms him hearing your heartbeat. It’s a huge anchor for him to know you’re alive.

If you hold him tight enough he’ll eventually open up, whether that be through anger - not directed at you, you’re just the person he’s channelling his feelings to - or through crying. When this happens his forehead is clenched and he’s biting his lip to remain composed until eventually a few tears spill onto you. Sometimes it stops there, other times the dam breaks and he starts weeping. You rub firm circles between his shoulder blades and press kisses to the side of his head.

Despite being grown in a test tube and having no nurturing intervention as a child, you also discover that it’s comforting to him when you make gentle shushing sounds. You suppose it’s the ‘S’ syllable, like the sea gently lulling him into peace. Sometimes swaying him helps, too.

Rex is a naturally warm person, like a human furnace. He doesn't like when you press your feet against his because anything less than his body temperature is cold to him. He gets all grumbly initially but eventually just smiles at the way you rub them back and forth against him to create friction. He enjoys having your legs tangled up with his when you have cozy mornings in bed together. It makes him feel connected to you.

Back to hair. If your hair is long enough he plays with it. He twirls it round his finger and brushes his cheek against it. He loves how soft it is. But watch out, he does it to relax when stressed so you definitely have some broken hair from the tight twisting of strands. When he eventually finds out about it, he's mortified, and apologises profusely.

He's a really light sleeper. He would have to be as a Captain, used to short pitstops of rest on campaigns and disturbed sleep if a squad of clankers happen upon his men. So if he dozes off while snuggling, make sure you're in a comfortable position, because any slight movement or sound is enough to wake him up.

[cudan2]

One Last Surgery

Spring Break Shadowing Part 5.1

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Word Count: 2,043

Summary: You finally find out the reason for going to the children’s hospital, but you’re more distracted than usual today and Dr. Cullen can tell. 

A/N: Tell me why part 5 of SBS takes up over half of the whole series? I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for 5 months because I keep adding more to it smh. Now it’s too long so I’ve decided to split it up into 3 parts (in addition to parts 6 and 7). I’m making the final edits the rest of this part now - 5.2 should be posted in like two days.

Anyways, this is technically the beginning of  #1 and #2 on my headcanon list.

Masterlist

XXX

Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital is only across the street from Doctor Cullen’s office, but it seems to take forever to get there. You trail the doctor like a lost puppy through a skyway and a series of corridors before eventually reaching the right building. Different is definitely an understatement.

Gone are the linoleum-tiled floors, the abstract paintings lining the hallways, and the stark white walls. Instead, there are bright colors everywhere you look. Artwork featuring various galaxies and planets scatter throughout the hospital, and giant stars are imprinted along the floors; even the whole atmosphere just feels different.

You don’t get much time to analyze the differences though. Doctor Cullen is wasting no time to reach the destination, and his long legs aren’t making it any easier to keep up.

“Not that I don’t like surprises, but any chance you can tell me what we’re doing in the children’s hospital now?”

“Impatient, are we?” Doctor Cullen chuckles. He stops at an elevator and pushes the up button, only giving into your question once he catches a glimpse of your pout. “Alright, you win. Are you familiar with a cleft palate or cleft lip?”

The elevator dings, the doors sliding open with it. You shake your head no and get on the elevator with him. He presses the button for the floor and then leans against the wall, arms outstretched on the handrail, and gives you an explanation. 

“A cleft is a gap or split occurring in the roof of the mouth, upper lip, or both. It is due to improper joining of the tissue during fetal development. There are no definitive known causes as of right now, but it’s believed that the environment and genetics can play a role.

The hospital has its own craniofacial team, but I was asked to join this particular case given its more complicated nature. Hanna became one of the first patients I treated when I came to Columbia,” Doctor Cullen finishes fondly, a smile gracing his lips.

“What makes this case complicated?” you ask.

“Hanna was born with a bilateral complete cleft lip and palate, meaning her lip cleft is two-sided and continues into her nose. It took quite a few surgeries to repair the lip, but now the next step is to repair the palate.”

The elevator reaches the floor and dings. You follow Doctor Cullen out and continue prodding him with more questions, which he is more than eager to answer. It’s incredible how knowledgeable he is. Granted, it is his job to know these things, but you couldn’t begin to imagine yourself being able to even scratch the surface of these topics, not to mention give a mini lecture on it.

You’re soon standing at the door to a patient room while the doctor asks Hanna’s parents if you can observe. They readily agree, and Doctor Cullen motions for you to come in.

Inside the room, you see an infant that can’t be more than a year old – Hanna.  She’s sitting upright on the bed, leaning against who you assume to be her father. You notice two fading scars going up into her nose above her lip. Her mother is waving a stuffed toy around her, but Hanna’s attention is fixated on the blonde doctor.

“Y/N, allow me to introduce you to Hanna’s parents, Anthony and Linh Pham. And this is Doctor Giselle Adamou, who will be working with me on the surgery,” Doctor Cullen gestures to the older doctor in the room.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you say politely.

Pre-op goes differently than what you’ve gotten used to observing this week. There is no case presenting given the lack of residents on the case. If anything, this is what you would expect out of a non-teaching hospital.

Doctor Cullen re-explains the procedures to Hanna’s parents, but halfway through, Hanna crawls to the end of the bed where Doctor Cullen is and attempts to stand, arms outstretched as if to say, “Up! Up!” Bewilderment is not a word you would have associated with him, and yet you catch the brief widening of his eyes that betray his usually calm demeanor.

“I think she wants you to hold her,” Linh comments.

“I can see,” Doctor Cullen muses. “Do you mind?”

“She’s all yours.” Linh picks her daughter up from the bed and hands her to the doctor. The sound of Hanna’s elated laughter fills the room, and you can’t stop a small smile from appearing on your own face. A cute baby and a gorgeous doctor? You don’t know who to thank for the sight.

Meanwhile, Hanna starts playing with various pens in Doctor Cullen’s breast pocket while Doctor Adamou continues where her colleague left off. You try to pay attention, you really do. Like Hanna though, your attention lies on someone else, and that someone else happens to be Doctor Cullen.

The more you study him, the more the minute features you never noticed about him before seem to pop out to you. Under the bright fluorescent lighting of the hospital, the dark purple circles under his eyes are more apparent than ever. How ironic for the preacher of health to lack sleep himself. His eyes, which you normally consider to be a vivid golden, are darker than you initially thought them to be. They are liquid pools of dark amber, speckled with dustings of gold and flecks of black. There isn’t a single blemish on his face that you can see either, further confirming your belief that this man is truly the most attractive person you have ever met. Either that or he must have one hell of a skincare routine.

It’s unnerving how young his appearance is. Skincare and diet can only do so much for a person, right? Doctor Cullen has to be at least 35 at the minimum, yet he could easily pass off as someone from your own school.

“Any last minute questions?” you hear Doctor Adamou ask and snap back into reality. By missing nearly everything the older doctor talked about, you already know you’ll be so screwed if and when Doctor Cullen decides to interrogate you on this case.

Neither parent has anything left to say, so Doctor Cullen gives a reluctant Hanna back to her mother. She lets out a cry and his expression softens.

“I know, sweetheart. I’ll miss you too, but I need to get ready for your big surgery, okay? I promise you’ll see me again in a few hours.” His soothing voice does wonders for her. In an instant, Hanna quiets down and her frown is replaced with giggles and smiles again. She waves the two of you off, and you both take your leave with Doctor Adamou trailing behind you. You’re not even halfway out the door yet when Doctor Cullen starts testing your knowledge again.

“Y/N, what procedure will we be doing to repair Hanna’s cleft?” 

You do not have this one in the bag whatsoever. You wrack your brain for information that could help you, but Doctor Adamou interjects before you get a chance to say anything.

“Why does it not surprise me that you’re treating students like interns already, Carlisle?”

“I am merely advancing the education of next generation’s doctors,” he responds.

“Whatever you say,” she laughs. “Don’t scare off Y/N though, or we won’t have any doctors left in the next generation.” She turns to you after picking up files from a nearby counter and says, “You come running to me if he pushes you too hard, alright?”

You grin. “For sure.”

“Good. I look forward to seeing you both in the OR,” she says before heading off.

You like Doctor Adamou. Each surgeon you’ve met here so far has had such different personalities, yet each also has the charisma and confidence to take control of a room and command respect. You, on the other hand, could barely get your own friends to listen to your own words. How are you ever going to get on the level of all the amazing doctors around you?

“She saved you there,” Doctor Cullen comments, leafing through Hanna’s charts as he walks you into an empty elevator to the operating floor. Oops, it’s just your luck that he noticed your lack of attention during the pre-op. “It’s unlike you to be distracted. Penny for your thoughts?”

The elevator doors shut, and he looks up from the chart, his eyes falling onto yours. He has that twinkle in his eyes again – the one that brings warmth to your cheeks and could make anyone weak in their knees. You know it’s silly, but a single look from him could make you spill any of your deepest and darkest secrets, yet a part of you also knows that he would keep it. You’re not naïve – you know it’s dangerous to put so much faith into a man you only met this week – but there’s something about him that told your instincts to trust him from the very beginning.

Call it intuition, or maybe it’s just plain stupidity, but you sure as hell aren’t going to tell him about how you got distracted because of his pretty face.

You hesitate for a moment and let out a sigh. “How do you do it?” He quirks a brow, momentarily perplexed, and you attempt to find the right words. “How do you make all of this look so easy? How do you know what the right thing to say is? Or trust that what you’re doing is even right? How did you know if this was all meant for you? This is really dumb, but it seems like everyone here was born for this job, and then there’s... me.”

There’s a slight sense of dread starting to form in your stomach. You’re unsure if what you asked even made any sort of sense and wonder if you gave too much away. Giving any reason to second guess your abilities is like digging your own grave when it comes to this career. Expressing uncertainty is one of the biggest taboos of the cutthroat world that is pre-med because schools would not accept students that aren’t absolutely, totally, and completely sure about this path.

You’ve wanted this for so long, yet there’s still a part of you that doubts if you would be enough.

Rather than going straight to gowning and scrubbing in for the surgery, Doctor Cullen grabs your hand and leads you down to an abandoned hallway, only letting go once the two of you are hidden in an alcove away from any prying ears or eyes.

“What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for surgery?”

“We have a few minutes to spare. Y/N, please know that I understand how you feel,” he says softly. “There was a time when I questioned my own abilities as well… whether my perseverance could overcome adversity. It took quite some time to reach where I am today.  However, without enduring those trials and tribulations, I would not be here. With time comes experience, and it is that experience that allows me to perform my job the best I can.”

His voice reminds you of a gentle breeze, rustling the leaves of a tree on a cool summer night when he continues speaking in hushed tones. It brings a blanket of reassurance, a sense that things would eventually be alright.

“I have said this before, but I see enormous potential in you. You still have a great deal of time to grow and develop your skills. It’s easy to get caught up in comparing yourself with others, especially given today’s societal standards, but I believe you are much more capable than you may think you are. Everyone’s journey is different and yours may not necessarily be as linear as you would prefer. In due time though, I have faith that you will succeed.”

What he says is exactly what you needed to hear.

The swell of tears pricks at your eyes and start blurring your vision, but you blink them away quickly, fighting the urge to wrap your arms around the doctor. 

“Thank you, Doctor Cullen.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“You’re very welcome. Now, I believe there’s a little girl waiting on us.” 

XXX

Tag List - Message me to be added or removed to either this series or the rest of my fics!

@jelly-fishy-babie @notahappytree @anxiousgoldengirl

[tlcwrites]

By A Nose

Submission for Writer Wednesday 5/12

Summary: If you're going to talk the talk, you better be able to walk the walk. Or, proof Poe Dameron is a terrible loser.

Word Count: 1528

Tags/Warnings: Poe Dameron x Reader, Modern AU. Implied smut but mostly in passing. Some bad words. Poorly edited because as usual I finished this at like 11 and my kids get up at 5 so I need to go to sleep.

Author’s Note: THREE FICS IN A WEEK WHO AM I?

Okay, so I cannot be the only one who saw the photo for this week's Writer Wednesday (thank you once more for hosting, @autumnleaves1991-blog!) and went the direction I did. If I am the only one, well, just further proof my brain is certifiable. Make sure you comment on when you figure out where this fic takes place.

There will also be an accompanying headcanon coming for this probably tomorrow, because there was SO much material I wanted to use but couldn't make fit. Thank you @paper-n-ashes for brainstorming with me and being the best hype-woman ever.

“AAAAHHHHH.”

“WE’RE GONNA DIE.”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!”

“FINN!!” You smack him. “There are small children here!”

But he’s too busy screaming to pay attention.

On the other side of you, Kaydel looks decidedly green. She lets out a pained moan as your vehicle makes a particularly hard turn. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this…”

You pat her knee as you fly through a kitchy town. “Hang in there, honey. It’s almost over.”

The village elder’s well wishes still ringing in your ears, you pull up next to another idling transport. From the driver’s seat, your boyfriend winks at you.

“You’re going down, Dameron!” you holler at him.

He makes the universal ‘I’m watching you’ gesture. “Eat my dust, losers!”

Finn yells back something that has you smacking him again, shooting an apologetic glance to the second row of Poe’s transport, where Snap and Karé are sitting with their daughter Nora. Snap’s hands fly to cover Nora’s ears while Karé laughs heartily.

Next to Poe, Rey holds her thumb and forefinger up to her forehead in an ‘L’ shape. “Second place is the first to lose!”

Before any more trash talking can occur, you see a flash of red out of the corner of your eye and then both vehicles take off, bursting out of the dark into blinding sunlight.

You both fly over the rusty terrain, neck and neck as you navigate under rocky overpasses and around hairpin turns. From the second row of your car, you can hear Maz lobbing profanities at Chewie in the other ride. He’s yelling back in his native tongue (which you still only understand half of). Beside Maz, Leia and Han are both laughing like kids.

A shriek of joy erupts from you as you fly over a series of hills, the momentary weightlessness thrilling. Finn has both hands in the air, while Kaydel grips the safety handle with white knuckles.

Finally, you come out of a turn to see a sharp drop. You look to Poe, who grins back at you, his vehicle slightly ahead of yours. Damnit, you HATE losing to him. He’s the worst winner.

At the last moment, your ride leaps ahead, crossing under the checkered banner by a nose. The passengers of your car cheer and high-five in victory, while Poe’s passengers groan in good-natured defeat.

As you roll through the red-lit cavern, you laugh as you catch sight of Poe’s face. He’s a terrible winner, but he’s an even worse loser. Even if his loss comes at the hands of an algorithm.

Anthropomorphic cars wave you off as both vehicles enter the unloading zone. On the other side of the platform, Chewie is lifting Rey out of the front seat as she pretends to collapse in agonized failure, her laughter completely destroying the illusion. You accept Finn’s hand as he helps you up, both of you turning to support Kaydel as she crawls out of the car.

A ride attendant watches her warily. “Does she need assistance?” he asks Han.

Han waves him off, wrapping an arm around his wife’s shoulders as Maz and Chewie beeline for the ride photos. “She’ll be fine. No protein spills here.” At the cast member’s astonished look, the charming rogue gives his trademark grin. “Ain’t my first rodeo, kid.” As he and Leia stroll past you towards the exit, he catches your eye and winks. “That, and they haven’t changed the lingo since the 70’s.”

Laughing, you rub Kaydel’s back as Rey swaps places with Finn and helps bracket your green-tinged friend. “Let’s get you some water, yeah?”

Kaydel manages a slight nod, and the three of you make your way towards the exit.

Behind you, you can hear Poe and Finn bickering, as they’re wont to do.

“It’s a ride, dude,” Finn is saying, the exasperation clear in his tone.

“It’s physics, dude,” Poe shoots back. “There’s NO way the car on the outside of the turn would be able to finish first.”

Worst. Loser. Ever.

Your rag-tag alliance eventually makes it out of the exit tunnel. Ben’s waiting across the walkway, those ridiculously long arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the guard rail and steadily ignores whatever Armitage is ranting about.

On the bench next to them, Rose perks up, a smirk crossing her pretty face as she sees Poe’s expression. “Well, I don’t need to ask who won.”

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” the most-competitive-pilot-in-the-galaxy grumbles back, adjusting his backpack. You help Kaydel to a bench, where she quickly curls up.

Rey rolls her eyes as she forces her way into the circle of Ben’s arms. “It’s not like any of us could have actually controlled the outcome, you noodle.”

“Not without some kind of magic,” Ben intones dryly, resting his chin on his girlfriend’s head.

“How cool would that be, though?” Rey’s getting her Down-The-Wormhole-We-Go eyes. You and Rose exchange a Look™️ as she starts gesturing wildly with her hands. “Like, imagine if you could just look at something like rocks and, like, make them fly. Or make someone do whatever you wanted them to do. OH!” She looks up at Ben with a slightly manic expression. “Lightning bolts from your fingers!!”

Well-used to these kinds of rambles, Ben gently captures her hands and wraps her into a hug that doubles as a straight jacket. “No more SyFy channel before bed.”

Rose slides her arms around her husband as Finn joins her on the bench. “Did you behave?”

Nora, in all her 6-year-old innocence, giggles. “Mr Finn said a whole lot of swear-jar words.” She casts a critical eye on the young man. “You probably said enough you could buy an Elsa doll.” The ‘for me’ is unsaid, but implied.

Karé rapidly turns her laugh into a cough.

Finn glances down at his wife as Rose smacks him upside the head. “Hey! That tractor thing is terrifying. And Maz said WAY more than I did!”

“Age before beauty, Finnigan,” Maz says haughtily, waving off Finn’s ‘m'name’s not Finnigan, damn it’.

Giggling, you tune out the ridiculousness that is your found family and turn your attention to your still-sulking boy toy. “You know,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his waist, “you make that face for long enough and it’ll stick that way.”

He huffs. “This is just how my face looks.”

“Uh huh.” Considering yourself quite the expert in his face, having spent countless hours studying every crease and line until you could have drawn him blindfolded, you call bullshit, but say nothing further.

“It is,” he insists.

“Okay,” you agree.

The King of Sarcasm narrows his eyes. “You’re doing that thing.”

You widen your eyes innocently. “What thing?”

“That thing where it sounds like you’re agreeing with me but you’re really telling me I’m a dumbass.”

“What?!” You bring your hand to your chest. “Moi?! I would never.”

He huffs again, but you can see the hint of a smirk starting to break though.

“C’mon, First Runner Up,” you tease. “No sulking in Disneyland. Let me buy you a drink at Trader Sam’s, and then we can sneak off to the Haunted Mansion and make out like teenagers in our Doom Buggy.”

He tilts his head, considering it.

“Or-“ You brush an inky curl off his forehead and stand on your toes until your lips are just about caressing his ear and whisper, “-we could get back in line right now and go again.”

Even before you’ve finished speaking, Poe’s grabbing your hand and hauling you back towards the entrance, tossing a “See you jerks later!” as he pulls you under the Radiator Springs Racers sign. Their laughter echos behind you as he leads the way through the mostly empty line (thank goodness for parade lulls).

As you wait in the queue, only a few dozen people stand between Poe and his (re)shot at victory. You see that competitive gleam in his eyes start to come alive again.

“Hey.” You tug on his tee shirt until he looks at you. “If our car doesn’t win, tonight I’ll do That Thing you love.”

“Babe.” The look he gives you is one of pure torture. “You are killing me here.” He really loves to win. But he really, really loves That Thing. “What about when we come in first?”

You shrug demurely. “Then you wear Those Pants™️ tomorrow.”

Hm. Poe’s always been quick to calculate his odds, and this is quickly turning into a win/win situation. If you lose, he gets That Thing. But Those Pants™️ turn you about feral, and when you’re in that kind of mood- let’s just say Poe still has the scars on his shoulders to prove it.

“Are those terms acceptable, Flight Commander Dameron?” You smile sweetly up at him.

His licentious grin says it all. “Hell yeah.”

For the record, your car does lose a second time. And the next morning, Poe hardly has Those Pants over his ass when you’re ripping them back down his legs and shoving him backwards onto the bed.

Oh, yeah, he thinks to himself. This is better than any dumb kid’s ride.

…doesn’t mean he’s not going to ride it as many times as it takes to win.

A/N: I almost titled this “Tell me you have children without saying you have children”. I am so fucking sick of ‘Lining McQueen’. Yay 4-year-olds.

Thank you for reading; likes and reblogs feed my soul.

[clonewarslover55]

I'm so sorry but can I request some more Boba love? Perhaps him reuniting with his Riduur after all those years?? Maybe some sweet fluff and then them getting back to their usual activities? 😏

Headcanons or blurb, whatever you're up for!! I'm just happy to see all the Thicc Boba™ love!!

Yes!!!! I loved this request!!! Have a drabble lol 

An old lover  Boba Fett X GN!Reader 

Notes: It isn’t exactly like that scene in chapter 14 because I tried to be creative. So don’t expect too much. 

Warnings: Canon violence, sadness, fluff, mentions of smut but no smut sorry, 

Have a gif because he’s hot 

You worked with Din temporarily, till you could get back on your feet as a bounty hunter again. You used to be one of the best, but when Boba Fett died you went downhill very fast. Din helped you get a roof over your head after a few years of being homeless and broken hearted. 

Din didn’t need to know that you used to be in a relationship with the galaxy's most famous bounty hunter.

+++++++

When the ship came in through orbit you gasped loudly, Din looking at you. “Do you know that ship?” He spoke while looking back at the kid nervously. “I-I.” You felt years and years of memories rushing back to you. Slave I was Boba’s ship. If she was here…..does that mean??

No it couldn’t be. You had his armor…...which was probably the only thing that survived the Sarlacc. But Boba Fett was hard to kill…….so maybe? You felt tears in your eyes, kriff you missed him.

Din yelled your name and you jumped, “We need to move!” You shook your head, “Watch the kid! I’ll go check it out!” You ran down the hill, pulling out your blaster. Din watched, looking nervously between you and the kid on the rock. 

You froze when you saw the ship, Slave I looked the same as always. Her paint was peeling and she was older than Boba’s late father, but damn she was beautiful.  Your eyes weren’t open for long when the butt of a rifle hit you in the temple. 

The last thing you saw was a Storm Trooper, then everything went black. 

When you woke up you were in the middle of a fucking blaster fight. Din was practically standing on you, shooting down storm troopers. You screamed and sat up, screaming even louder when you saw someone very familiar. Thankfully you were behind Din, so you didn’t get shot. 

Boba Fett was fucking fighting the Storm Troopers along side Din Djarin. You scrambled to your feet, hardly registering anything but the fact that Boba was alive. He had put on the armor, and was beating the shit out of some Storm Troopers with a Tusken Raider staff. 

When the last few fled Boba walked after them, watching the ships take off. Boba Fett didn’t like to leave survivors. He shot one ship, which blew up and crashed into the other. “Nice shot.” You heard Din speak, Boba’s reply nearly making you sob. “I was aiming for the other one.” 

The child was gone, which broke your heart. You couldn’t really feel that pain though, the past coming back and hurting much worse. You put a hand over your mouth, tears threatening to spill. 

After the Razor Crest blew up you couldn’t even feel anything else but shock.The explosion was the last thing on your mind, Boba being alive was far more important than a piece of shit ship.  Din had walked to the rubble, which gave you the perfect time to talk to Fett. 

You walked over, “B-Boba?” Your voice was shaky, but your past lover heard you anyway. His head whipped around and he froze for a moment, “You-.......You’re alive!” You ran to him, Boba catching you and hugging you tightly. 

You cried into his cloth covered neck, “You survived.” You whispered. Boba stroked your back and sighed through his helmet. You sobbed, but you didn’t exactly know for what reason. 

Din and Fennec watched, both having no idea that you and Boba were close. 

You stepped back and cupped the cheeks of his helmet. Before you could pull it off he put his hands over yours, “Wait. I was in the Sarlacc for two days…..I don’t look the same.” You shrugged and rubbed some of the chipped paint off with your thumb, “Boba I don’t care. I just want to see you.” 

He let you remove his helmet, and he was just as handsome as he was the day you lost him. “You’re still a handsome man Fett.” You smiled, kissing him deeply. His lips were the same as they used to be, rough and chapped but perfect. 

Din walked over, his voice sounding shaky from the loss of the child. “Care to explain?” Boba gave him the usual bemused Fett look, clearly not giving enough fucks to tell him. “Boba and I used to be an item. We worked together and all that.” You smiled like an idiot. 

“When I was swallowed by a Sarlacc everyone thought I died. My recovery took me so long that I hadn’t found them yet.” Boba speaks, his fingers entangling with yours. You felt tears well up in your eyes at the thought of him alone. 

~The next day~ 

Slave I was on autopilot, making its way to the next destination that Din had told Boba. You sat in the cockpit with Boba, watching him repaint his armor. You held the small tins of old paint as he worked silently, his strokes steady. 

“You’re staring.” He muttered, not looking up from the Fett family farm mark on the chest plate. “Oh I’m not allowed to stare?” Boba narrowed his eyes, his lips twitching a little. “I missed you Boba, I think I’m allowed to stare.” 

Boba glanced at you and smiled, “I suppose.” He said sarcastically. You rolled your eyes and took the finished chest plate from his hands, setting it by the others to dry. He was working on his knee plates now, the last pieces to do. 

You were nearly asleep in the seat when Boba put the last piece down with the others, “All done.” He muttered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

He sat back down in the pilots seat, pulling you into his lap. “I missed you.” You kissed him deeply, Boba happily kissing you back. You ran your hands down his arms and grinned, “You somehow got even sexier you know.” You muttered against his lips as you straddled him. 

Boba rolled his eyes and kissed you again, he was never one for accepting compliments. “Too bad we’ll never be alone on this ship again.” You sighed. “When we stop he’s getting off to find a friend, we’ll be able to do some things then.”

Boba kissed your neck, the feeling sending lightning bolts down your spine. “Then I’ll show you just how much I missed you.” 

Tags: @leias-left-hair-bun @iamassbuttkingofhell @catsnkooks @mxndalorians @colorfulloverbatturkey @ahsokatano-thetogruta @jedi-mando @peacefulwizardfox @julyzaa @feathersforclones @chr0nicbackpain @strangebroadwaykinks @jedi-nila-rhyn @fyrepen33 @valkyrieofthehighfae @commanderrivercc-3628 @my-awakened-ghost

[littlemisspascal]

🛏 🌑 👔 for din+angel

Is it okay if I make this three separate answers? Din and Angel are my darlings 🥰

Sleeping Headcanon

Warnings: Fluff, Nightmare mention, Established Relationship

So as immortal beings, you and Din don't require sleep the same way mortals do.

However, just because it's not required doesn't mean either of you can't fall asleep. In fact, you actually like drifting off and dreaming, especially when those dreams star you and Din.

You tell Din this one night after watching him tuck Grogu into his makeshift hammock, snoring after a day full of practicing his levitating trick on a stuffed bantha Din bought him in Tatooine, and your cheeks blush under the warmth of Din's gaze upon you, listening to every word.

He surprises you and simultaneously breaks your heart by admitting his attempts at sleep are plagued by nightmares of his lifetime. Horrors imprinted on his mind no amount of time will erase.

His confession haunts you for the next few days and you wish there were something you could do to comfort him. Maybe, just maybe, if you were to lay down beside him, your presence could somehow be a deterrent against the bad dreams.

"If you wanted to cuddle with me, angel, all you had to do was ask," he says, smirking at you.

The bunk in the Razor Crest is small and confining, the mattress thin and hard, but you and Din make it work with you laying on top of his bare chest, face tucked into his neck.

"Close your eyes, sweetheart," you whisper in the darkness, palm pressed over his beating heart. "Dream of us."

And for the first time in Death's existence, he sleeps peacefully.

Dark Headcanon

Warnings: Blood, Established Relationship, Protective Din, Violence

Din has always been especially protective of you even before you found out he was your soulmate. But now that you’ve both been marked and you’re back with him after being kidnapped by a psychopath, yeah, his protective nature has increased a thousand percent. 

You don’t mind it for the most part. Like when you’re disguised as mortals walking through the market and he has his arm around your waist, fingers curled around your hipbone. Or how if you stop to shop at a market stall he looms behind you, glaring at anyone who’s gaze lingers on you too long for his liking.

You do start to care when you accidentally get separated from Din in a crowded street and wind up cornered in an alleyway by a drunk human with acrid smelling breath who wouldn’t know the meaning of personal space even if it were stamped across his face. You’re just about to introduce your knee to his private parts when Din tears into him with all the ferocity of a krayt dragon.

He nearly caves the man’s face in with his fists, punching over and over again until his gloves are practically dripping with blood and the human is making an awful gurgling sound as he struggles to breath. 

You stand there pressed frozen against the wall, gaping and struggling to connect your loving, tender soulmate with the savage act of violence that just unfolded mere feet away. 

It’s not that you didn’t know Din was capable of brutally spilling blood. You’ve heard the legends about Death killing those stupid enough to fight him. But this is the closest you’ve ever witnessed him being violent.

And you don’t know what terrifies you more: his viciousness or the fact you’re comforted by it instead of afraid.

Clothing Headcanon

Warning: Fluff, Established Relationship

It takes you nearly six months to track down a coat identical to the one Din had worn during your first meeting with him on Trinomliaxeros. 

You’d had to bribe Grogu with a dozen cookies to convince him to let you borrow his favorite scrap of fabric so you could take it to a clothing designer on Coruscant you’d once helped match with her soulmate several years prior.

After reaching out across the Holonet to her fellow designers across the galaxy, someone finally finds record of the coat and sends enough matching fabric your designer friend is certain she can recreate it.

You bring it back to the Crest in a specially wrapped box and excitedly shove it at Din’s chest, who looks between the present and your smiling face with a mixture of amusement and confusion. 

“I don’t have a birthday,” he tells you as he pulls on the decorative ribbon to open the box. “You didn’t have to get me anything, angel.”

“Hush,” you tell him, waving your hand dismissively, practically vibrating with excitement. “You’ll love this, trust me.”

You wish you had a camera to take a picture of his face when he realizes the precious gift you’ve given him. His lips part with a silent gasp, eyes widening with recognition, and his fingertips gently touch the sleeves.

“Is this...?” he’s too stunned to even finish the question.

You nod, smile widening, and step forward to help put it on him. The dark coat fits perfectly, soft beneath your palms as you run them over his broad shoulders and chest.

“Thank you, angel,” he says, pressing a kiss against your lips. “I love it.”

Teasingly, you wonder, “Do you love it as much as you love me?”

“Impossible. Nothing could ever come close to how I feel about you.”

[writefightandflightclub]

Snarky space bois (Sub!Poe Dameron and sub!Tony Stark headcanons)

Warnings: 18+ only NSFW

GIF credits @rad-aar-blog​ and @the-darkling​

Poe Dameron and Tony Stark have major bratty switch energy. Don’t @ me, this is a cold hard fact. Here are some thoughts thots I had about the ways they’d be similar / different in being a bratty sub for you, at the times they let you take control. Why? Idk? Please indulge me? I don’t mean you’re with them at the same time but go for it if you think you can handle that much snark. 🙈

Things get explicit under the cut!

They would both be weak for a partner who was capable of kicking their ass. Like, they see their partner take someone down (with their body or their mind tbh) and they’re just like: Yikes 🥵 *instantly good to go*. Take me down and I’ll sass you for it the whole time but I’m gonna love it and lose it if you top me and I’ll moan so pretty for you. If you can pin them to the bed, their arms above their head while they writhe under you? Fuck. They’re basically drooling for you.

They’d definitely wanna relinquish control to you to ease the pressure of being a hero. To lose control on purpose, instead of by accident (especially Tony, my god). To not have to make decisions all the time. But they’re both cocky enough that they’ll let you know you’re never fully in control. (That is, until you work your magic and they become a hot, sweaty, unravelled mess for you.)

You’re one of the few people they’ve met who can give as good as you get. They love that you can put them in their place because, tbh, few can. That’s one of the reasons you’re so good at being a brat-tamer for them. That, and how much they know they can trust you in giving their body over to you. Plus, you know all the right buttons to press to have them eating out of your hand.

Honestly, you get high from the power; knowing you can dominate such a difficult and desirable man thrills you. They don’t often listen to orders in general, but knowing they listen to you? You feel unstoppable. And hot as hell. They love how powerful you are, and whether you’re shy or not they make you feel so comfortable and capable at taking control of things (in and out of the bedroom, whether that’s running a company or a squadron, they believe in you).

If you’re not a penis owner, well they definitely wanna be pegged by you 👀 They’re so good for you and take it so well. And those pretty eyes and noises they give you in return? The way they get so hard? You love to watch them lose it. Bonus if they come on their own stomach and you lick it off afterwards, with a slight hum into their skin letting them know how good they taste. If you do this they have died and gone to heaven, and even though they’re spent it still makes their cock twitch and seek for more sensations. Maybe round two? Or three?

The praise? Oh my god. They love getting it, for starters. Fuel their already healthy egos, please (especially Tony). It’s what they deserve. But they’re also givers. They’ll praise you so hard for everything you’re doing to them, for how good you make them feel, for how gorgeous you are inside and out, proclamations spilling from their lips until you swear you’re nearly coming undone before they are. It’s always their mission to try and get you to come before you intended to, while you’re domming them, and a few times they manage it. Then, you simply have to punish them to wipe that smug look off their face, and neither of you are mad about any of this tbh.

They don’t shut up. That goes without saying. Sometimes you put their mouth to better use, but you never wanna gag them - why would you want to stop these pretty noises and words that get you off so well?! They’re vocal when they come, obviously. Soft, warm groans that build from their chest until the sound is pouring from their open lips, eyes fluttering closed. It’s your favourite sound (and sight) in the galaxy.

They’re super eager to please you. They need you to know they can’t get enough of you. Plus it just feels good to pleasure you. And you know how Tony always gotta keep his mouth and his hands busy? You can make sure he puts them to good use, whether you order his hands on you or on himself.

So many lip bites.

Sometimes, they’re too good? Like, you try and use their mouth and they have you undone in moments, and you just have to make them build you up all over again. They’re not complaining (ok well they’re gonna sass you) and, trust me, neither are you.

Neither of them are particularly into being handcuffed or blindfolded (too many negative associations, and they prefer to have their hands free to touch you, tbh). They didn’t imagine being into bondage at all as it makes them feel so vulnerable. But, since they trust you, you gently help them discover their liking for a little rope play. If you manage to try out some intricate shibari I’m betting you’d particularly enjoy the view of that bound ass and thighs, just saying. Maybe you could even slide a toy in there, I’m.. 🥵 You especially love it when they’re a little bound, because it gives you something to grab on to or a way to manipulate their position until you have them just where you want them.

Look, they’re probably down for using all manner of sex toys, on them or on you. Or both! If you’re with Tony you know he will build you something custom too. And some of these things are pretty kriffing elaborate- he’s a genius after all, and he has a pretty good imagination, if you know what I mean. If you’re with Poe, he’ll bring something back that he spotted on some alien planet and is keen to try, and at first you’re sceptical but you quickly get on board and boy, you’re glad you did. In fact, he teases you about how hard you came for weeks afterward.

They’ll try most things once. They have an adventurous spirit. Like, for example, I totally think you could convince them to wear your/some fancy underwear for a day, if it fits them. You didn’t think it’s something you’d ever be into, but Poe looks especially good in a pair of something pink and lacy, don’t look at me, bye.

A little bit of degradation is fine for them too, when you’re both in the mood. Like, if you call them names or rub your juices in their face. Maybe you spit on their cock too and make them rub it in. Maybe you call them your slut as you slide that toy or your fingers into their ass or palm their hard, needy cock.

Tony likes it if you bite him. Or scratch him. He doesn’t care if you leave marks. In fact, he likes it if you claim him as yours, for everyone to see.

Poe will almost nut any time you yank his curls. Touching his hair is a great way to get him hot under the collar in public. He especially likes it if you grab on while you use his mouth, or as you yank his head and say darkly, “look at me”, or at whatever you’re doing to him. You won’t let him close those pretty eyes while you ride him. He loses control of himself so quickly at the sight of you, it’s unreal.

They are not opposed to some light spanking, the smack of your palm on their ass or even thighs.

They like it if you carry things out of the bedroom. Like, if you sidle up to Poe in the hangar and whisper in his ear that he’s so good for you he’ll forget everything except your name and follow you obediently back to your room. It’s a good job he remembers your name as you’re gonna make him say it. A lot.

You love to tease them and get them to beg, because they don’t beg easily. You are more than up to the challenge though. You’ll edge them like no-one’s business until they’re shivering with need, and you milk every last drop of sass and cum from their body.

They want the world to know how amazing and hot and perfect you are, and they have zero embarrassment or shame. Like, half the world/base probably knows exactly what you’re into and how good you make them feel after a bunch of rather thinly veiled innuendos and jokes and comments. They never reveal anything too personal, of course, and respect your privacy. You know they’re just proud and don’t care who knows it. You’re not entirely mad at the bragging (you like to show them off too)... but you will make them suffer for it later.

You love the ongoing dynamic, and the fact that things can switch up at such short notice. You never know what you’re going to get and you keep each other on your toes. Most importantly though, you love and trust each other to the ends of the earth.

The pet names they have for you? So cute it’s almost obscene. Except a long list of terms which end up being banned by the other rebels/avengers because they work their way into every comms link, briefing, announcement, and group hang.

Afterwards? Look, these two boys are soft in the middle, and so full of love. Sometimes they might even cry a little afterwards, or sometimes you do. But they’re happy tears as you’re each so overwhelmed by sensations (and sometimes overstimulated) and by love. You try and look after them and it ends up being the other way around. They’re gonna cuddle and snuggle and kiss you everywhere. These boys are tactile and can’t get enough of touching you and letting you know they love every inch of you. They do wanna be little spoon, at first, but eventually it’s not enough and they flip around and hold you so tight like they’re never gonna let you go. They run warm and there’s no cosier or softer embrace, honestly. You feel entirely safe, and they feel safe with you.

If they do need a bit of care afterwards though, they love to curl up in your lap while you stroke their hair. To them, that’s their own personal heaven.

The snuggles usually only end when they get snacky (and like, actually snacky, and not just what they say when they wanna pleasure you all over again). But then you might make your way to the rec room/tv room and everyone else clears out, because they know you both fight so hard that every moment you have together is precious.

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

For the NSFW alphabet, Obi-Wan Kenobi?

A/N: A quick reminder to COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THIS!!! The tags hate me personally and these take just as much effort as drabbles or one-shots.  Help a girl out.

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

He’s so attentive to your needs. You could ask him for a specific type of soup made in an obscure restaurant somewhere in the depths of Coruscant and he’d find a way to get it to you.  Most of the time though, he’ll run a bath or hold you close and overall make you feel comfortable and loved.

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

He loves your lips.  He loves the way they feel on his.  He loves the words that spring from them.  The mind that gives them motion.  The way they curve into a smile or poke into a pout he just wants to kiss away. 

For himself, Obi Wan is very proud of his hair; both the kind of his head and his beard.  He takes the time to care for it and absolutely loves the feeling of your fingers running through it.

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

Obi-Wan rarely cums inside you unless you specifically ask him to, even with a condom.  Maybe it’s paranoia, but he even if he’s enjoying himself in the moment, some part of him starts to panic the second he comes down from his high.  Rather than go through all of that, he ends up cumming on your stomach more times than not.

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

Not long after meeting you, Obi Wan had his first wet dream he had since he was a teenager.  Usually he’s able to control such urges, but something about seeing you in that outfit, speaking with Senators and holding the confidence of a queen did things to him.  It took him almost a week of meditation and serious concentration to be able to even look you in the eye.

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

Extremely limited.  Like one person limited.  Like Satine and only once limited. He only starts doing his research under a deep layer of encryption code when you get together.  Even then, he prefers to learn through trial and error.  There are some awkward nights, but you know he’s trying.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Call him basic, but missionary.  He likes being able to see your face.  He loves having full access to your mouth while pulling you close to him.  Not to mention it’s easier for him to pull out when the time comes. 

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

He switches back and forth between studious observation on what you do and don’t like, and being a sassy little bitch. He knows there are going to be moments when he’s still figuring out exactly what he’s doing and so has to make a joke to ease the tension.  Also, he likes to tease you.  It’s his thing.  Almost a reflex at this point.

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

He hasn’t really been paying attention besides keeping it all clean, but once you get together he takes the time to trim it back at least.  He takes pride in his hair, no matter where it grows.  And there is quite a bit down there.

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

Obi Wan can be such a romantic and nobody can convince me otherwise. There have been times he just comes to your room with absolutely nothing smart to say and just kiss you like you’re the most precious thing in the universe before you even start undressing.  You guys don’t get a lot of time together and Obi Wan want to make the most of it while you can.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Obi Wan has some Catholic level guilt when it comes to masturbating. He hasn’t really done it since he was a much younger Padawan and when he’s with you, he’s had enough training to wait until he can see you again. It’s when he’s on Coruscant with you and can’t touch you that’s the real kicker. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Major praise kink, both giving and receiving.  He loves nothing more than worshiping your body, whispering soft insistent praises in your ear.  And when you turn the tables? When you tell him how good he makes your feel, how perfect he is, how precise and attentive; he loses it.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

You’re either at your place outside the walls of the Senate or the Jedi Temple OR you’re in some rented room far away from where anyone else can find you.  It’s not ideal, but Obi Wan doesn’t want to risk people finding out about the two of you.  It bothers you sometimes, but that’s the deal you made to be with him.  When you’re in your home, you can relax and actually be together like a real couple.  It’s nice, to pretend for a little while.

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

Competency.  Seriously, the moment you give a rousing speech to the Senate or rescue him from an attack or even just hold your own in a fight, he’s practically vibrating as he waits for a moment alone with you.

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

Age play or just a big age difference period.  Padawan/Master relationships are going be thrown right out the window.  He sees it in the same light as a parent and child and any reference to it genuinely turns his stomach.

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

He gives and receives with equal enthusiasm.  The sight of your lips wrapped around his cock is mesmerizing with the added bonus of him feeling free to cum inside you at he wishes.  Seeing you lick cum off your lips sends him.

At the same time, hearing the noises that spill from those lips as he goes down on you can be just as enticing.  He loves the way you yank at his hair when he does something truly magic with his tongue.  He loves your taste and takes a kind of pride at the bread burn on the inside of your thighs, even if you don’t always appreciate it.

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

Slow and sensual is the way of the game more times than not. Like I said before, you don’t have as much time together as other couples and so Obi Wan wants to take his time with you, drawing out the pleasure for as long as he can.

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

That’s going to be a negative.  Quickies imply you can’t take your time because one of you has to be somewhere which means someone will come looking if you’re not there on time.  Quickies can easily be lead to being caught and Obi Wan cannot relax long enough to have one.

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

Obi Wan really is willing to try most anything with you so long as you discuss it before hand; just so long as it’s no where near the Jedi Temple. Have a mentioned he’s completely paranoid about being caught?

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

It takes him a little while to build his stamina, given his lack of experience, but he can go for a while now.  He usually is good after one round, but he makes it last as long as possible, making you cum at least twice, if not more before he does.  That being said, if it’s been a really long while since you’ve seen each other, he can go for two or three.  Jedi recoup powers are a very real thing.

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

He doesn’t have any himself, but like I said he’s willing to try anything with his partner so long as they discuss it before hand.

There is something to be said for him being able to hold you down while he teases you with a vibrator and making you cum over and over again.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Once he figures out how; he’s the biggest fucking tease in the galaxy.  He’ll let you linger on the edge for well over an hour before he lets you cum. And for all his talk about not getting caught, damn does he like to get you hot and bothered in public.  If it wasn’t for his reputation of flirting with everyone then you’d be in much bigger trouble.

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

He usually a bit more quiet almost out of habit.  His words never rise beyond a whisper in your ear and his muffles in moans by burying them in your skin.

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

He is terrified at the idea of you being pregnant; not because he doesn’t want to be a father, but because he knows he would. 

When you’re together in secret, he can pretend like he can have both; being a Jedi and being with you.  But, if you became pregnant? He knows he would leave the Jedi Order in a second, no questions asked.  You could ask him tomorrow and he would probably say yes.  The only reason why you don’t is because you know how important being a Jedi is to him.  And knowing deep down inside you have that kind of power over his future terrifies him, but he loves you too much to let it scare him away.

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

He’s hung and he doesn’t even know it. It takes everything in you not to drool when you first see it; long and thick, but not so much for it to hurt.  He actually ask you how he compares and you have to lie; you can’t have his ego boosted anymore or his head will explode.  (He finds out later, but details)

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

Not extremely high, but just high enough that as soon as he’s given his report to the Council after a mission he’s at your door and kissing your senseless.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Once he knows you’re comfortable, he’s out like a light.  You feel a kind of pride in that, knowing that he trusts you enough to relax and actually let sleep take him. 

[savagesbonergarage]

The Beginning

Maul x reader x Savage

Prompt: "Howdy, it's the anon who requested the Exploring headcanons. May I request a short fic explaining how reader met the boys?"

(a/n: Based on these headcanons. I hope this isn't too long! I tend to get carried away with these really easy so I'm sorry if it's not short enough 😅 I enjoyed this one! I hope you like it! And sorry for the delay! Warnings: none, I think? Maybe slight harassment, idk.)

Secondhand smoke wafted through the dank air of the cantina while the music blared and cups clanked, though there was no particular reason for celebration other than having survived the previous job to work again another day. The local bounty hunters were hogging the transmitters as per usual, all of them extra rowdy and extra desperate for a job that paid enough credits; not that you weren't in the same boat.

Although bounty hunting wasn't your forté, being the navigator for those who did prefer to do the dirty work simply wasn't cutting it lately. More often than not, your piloting skills were robbed by getting these drunk idiots somewhere safe on a particularly bad night. It was your own fault for being foolish enough to do it - but then again, you always were a diplomat at heart. No one else was looking after these nobodies, and truth be told you'd grown fond of their antics. Their constant alcohol-fueled advancements, not so much.

"Baby, you're so *hic* good to me," a drunken weequay slurred as he tugged on your arm, "you gotta let me kiss ya, ya know, ta say thanks."

"You smell like a hutt's refresher, Chev." Your retort didn't seem to phase him, no matter how hard you rolled your eyes. In fact, it only seemed to encourage him.

"A Hutt! Am I a powerful Hutt, like *hic* Jabba? Will you do a little dance for me, baby?"

His reply earned some muffled laughs from many of the men that were listening in, the newbies among them intrigued to see what kind of woman you were, and the regulars in anticipation for what was to come. You even caught a glimpse of Asajj's temporary gaze from her seat in front of you as she seemed ready to lend a hand, knowing that no one with any sense would dare to mess with her. You shot a reassuring look her way, your smirk enlightening her to your intentions as you removed the weequay's grip.

"Tell you what, Chev," you began, a light of hope going off in his face, "If you can steadily walk three whole laps around the bar, I'll do it."

He practically lept out of his skin, spilling his drink all over Embo's anooba which elicited a barrage of vicious growls from the creature, though it's owner held it back.

"Really? You'll *hic* dance for me?!"

You leaned in closer, feigning a silkiness in your voice.

"I'll do more than that."

Chev darted back up onto his feet with all the determination and resolve in the galaxy and fixed his wonky hat.

"I won't disappoint you, m'lady!"

He didn't make it seven steps in before he tripped over his own boot and crashed into the ground. You almost felt bad for leading him on like that, but it was for his own good. One of his buddies bent over to check on him and confirmed that he was down for the count, but okay. Endo mumbled something in his native language about how Chev was as sloppy with his drink as he was with his kills and that if it weren't for you doting on the more pathetic hunters in the area, there would be more jobs to go around. You reminded him of the times you had to rescue his own ass, and he kept quiet.

Still, you couldn't help but ponder the truth of his words. This profession wasn't for people like you, especially not in the service of bounty hunters and the like. Your heart was a little too big for the world of dubious credit-earning, and sympathy wasn't going to keep your ship running.

Your train of thought was broken by the sudden exciting activity surrounding the main transmitter.

"Whoa! A million credits?! Who is this Savage Opress?"

Asajj wasted no time in taking the target for herself, and no one objected. You did manage to get a glimpse of the man the well-paying bounty listed, however - a black and gold-skinned zabrak, with a countenance full of hate and the eyes of a predator. You were intrigued to say the least, and curious as to what kind of wrongdoings occurred to have that large of a bounty placed on his head. There was a pull that tugged at your chest the longer you stared at the holoprojection, as though the force itself were trying to tell you something. You weren't even sure if you believed in the force, but whatever this feeling was, it gradually became overwhelming. The moment Asajj left the vicinity you rose from your seat, determined to find the answers you sought.

*

I might actually be losing my mind this time, you thought as you sat in the cockpit of your ship, watching earnestly as Asajj's ship disappeared from view into the atmosphere. You had strategically placed an untraceable tracker beneath it before she flew off and it seemed to remain undetected the longer you waited, forcing you to commit to your actions. You didn't even know what you were trying to do exactly - steal the bounty from her? Simply follow her to the destination and wait for another sign?

A sigh escaped your lips as the tracker revealed her ships course on your display screen, the far planet of Raydonia coming into view. To head out that far into the galaxy after an infamous bounty hunter chasing a mysterious and likely dangerous bounty was nothing short of insane, and yet you guided your ship into space anyway. You wondered if you would ever spend a night in that cantina again.

You carefully navigated into the belsmuth sector without detection, making sure to maintain plenty of distance between you and Ventress' transport. By the time the lush planet of Raydonia came into view, she had already made contact with the planets surface a few minutes beforehand. You debated on whether or not you should also land your craft, or remain off-world until you had a better idea of what you were even out there for. Settling for the latter, you shifted power to your ships cloaking device and waited. Whether you liked it or not, that overwhelming feeling was telling you that whatever you were seeking would be coming to you - and no, you didn't particularly like it.

I should turn back. I have no desire to cash in on this job, assuming I would even succeed at it. There is... darkness. Maliciousness.

You swallowed as you watched a large vessel that appeared to be a turtle tanker exit Raydonia's atmosphere and a sharp jolt plunged into your chest. It was there, whatever it was. Something sinister. Your survival instincts begged you to flee, to live to work another day and avoid the sure danger that was aboard that freighter, and yet...

The cockpit of the tanker was ejected from the main vessel into space, and you sensed that Asajj wasn't successful in collecting the bounty. Was it your turn? Were you actually going to risk your life for such a dangerous job that you had no chance in hell of surviving? Your nails dug so hard into your arms that painful little half-moons littered your skin and your teeth clenched in frustration. Did you want to die?

Why am I attracted to this darkness? This evil? Why am I here? Maybe it will kill me, but...I have to know.

Your hands seized your ships controls and you pushed forward to the freighter, unsure of what to expect, and even more unsure of what the maelstrom in your heart was made up of. Your little vessel was small enough to dock against the side of the turtle tanker, latching on without a hitch. Any sensible person would absolutely not have done that, let alone shut off all power depriving yourself of any defenses or means of escape. Hell, maybe you did want to die.

Suddenly, you felt it. They sensed you the moment your transport connected to theirs.

There's more than one?

A burning crimson saber penetrated through the durasteel frame, sending sparking embers of warning your way as you left your seat and stood exactly in harm's way with your hands behind your back. The blade was making quick work of the metal, nearly completing a makeshift doorway into the unknown, however you remained unafraid. Against all odds, fear wasn't holding you back; not even after the giant durasteel puck came crashing down to reveal what you had apparently come all this way to find.

The wielder of the saber was none other than the large black and gold zabrak you had glimpsed back at the cantina and beside him was another of his kind, only with vermilion skin that ended at his torso, with strong metal droid-like appendages serving as his legs. They were a sight to behold, fearsome and clearly dangerous, and that darkness...

You didn't have much time to think before the larger of the two zabraks threw you over his shoulder and brought you into the freighter's cargo hold, then threw you down against a pile of shipping containers. You winced in pain yet remained fairly calm, even with the tip of the vicious giant's saber at your neck. His gaze met yours, those luminous golden orbs filled with the beastial rage and hate that served as any predators message to their prey before they were killed. Strangely, it fascinated you. If what was in your heart was reflected in your own eyes, there was no acknowledgment of it in his.

"Savage, who is this?"

Your attention moved to the crimson zabrak at the sound of his surprisingly sultry voice as he moved closer, though it was laced with the intentions of a killer. The darkness enveloped him like a veil of blackness, as though he had been molded by it. For all you knew, maybe he had been. These men likely weren't going to let you leave this vessel alive. The man called Savage uttered a resounding growl, once again making you aware of the deadly weapon at your throat.

"I don't know, brother."

He dug his strong hand into your shoulder and pulled you closer to the hot blade, your skin burning in anticipation.

"Why are you here?"

Your voice was firm, but quiet.

"I wish I knew."

Your answer wasn't satisfactory enough, and Savage grabbed you by the throat and pressed you down onto the hard surface of a container. It was painful and you struggled to breathe, but you didn't lash around or try to pull his hand away when you wrapped your own around his massive wrist. His brother now stood to your side, his countenance displaying curiosity and interest more than anything.

"It seems she's being complacent, Savage. Allow her to speak freely."

He reluctantly released you from his grip, allowing you to slide your back against the cold container as you held and cleared your throat. His saber was still ignited and they both remained menacingly close, not that you were foolish enough to try anything. The red zabrak spoke again, this time asserting his dominance by handling the interrogation.

"How did you find us?"

You felt compelled to relay everything truthfully and without compromise, so you did exactly that.

"I tracked Ventress here. In all honesty, I have no idea what I sought or for what reasons, but I knew she would lead me to it."

Savage growled once more, pointing his saber in your direction.

"Are you a bounty hunter?"

"Only when necessary."

"Did you come here to collect?"

"I considered it. I knew I wouldn't be able to, nor did I think it would be wise to try."

"And yet here you are," Savage's brother interjected, a small smirk tugging at his lips, "Tell me, do you have any idea what we are?"

You analyzed them closely, the pull of the force fueling your answer.

"You're Sith."

He now smiled fully.

"Very observant. I sense that the force is present in you, little one. I assume you have no allegiance?"

You wanted to deny his claim, but deep down you knew he was right. How else would you have gotten yourself in this situation? Furthermore, you suspected if you weren't force-sensitive, you would have died a long time ago.

"Not particularly."

You sensed Savage's frustration before he spoke.

"Brother, we don't have time for this. We need to focus on our mission, not toy around with this girl. Let's dispose of her."

His words were unsettling, yet you still didn't feel afraid. You wondered if you did come here to die after all. His brother must have sensed this among your other winding thoughts, as he knelt down to be closer to you.

"Do you not fear death? Do you not fear us?"

Again, you answered honestly.

"I suppose I should, but no. I don't. I'm not sure why. You're powerful and strong and I sense the atrocities you've committed, but I don't fear it."

"If not fear or anything similar, what is it that you feel?"

You swallowed, part of you wanting to be ashamed, the other longing to admit your truth freely.

"I suppose if anything, I feel...admiration. Perhaps a longing to contribute to whatever cause ignites such passion. I have no desire for power necessarily, but I have a desire to-"

"-to serve?"

You felt so exposed at the realization of your own needs, especially under the watchful eyes of the two Sith Lords that invaded your space. You particularly didn't want to admit to something as submissive as servitude, yet there was no use in denying it. Your face flushed a little before your tone regained it's firmness.

"Kill me if you like. Whether or not I live or die, I won't be leaving this ship. If you do decide to end me, will you give me the satisfaction of knowing your goals beforehand? I want to know what marks the sith intend to make on the galaxy."

The red zabrak nearly chuckled, cupping your chin in his fingers.

"What is your name, little one?"

You relayed it to him, part of you melting after hearing it echo from his lips with that voice of his. He proceeded with his own introduction.

"I am Maul. I was apprentice to the most powerful being in the galaxy once, but a Jedi took all that away from me and more. I suffered for more than a decade with my injured body and mind, until Savage discovered me and I was restored. I have sworn revenge against that very same Jedi who has only just escaped here, and now it is certain that every Jedi will be seeking us."

Revenge, huh? Yeah, that checks out.

Savage was still anxious to get this over with. You pondered Maul's words, your foolish heart finding any sympathy for the Jedi lacking. It already had been ever since the start of the clone war, however that pull once again drew your emotions in favor of the sith. You voiced your suggestions genuinely.

"If that's true, you'll need an army. Experience has shown me that if you have enough credits, bounty hunters will be loyal to anyone. There's no shortage of them among the pirates on Florrum. As for credits, the Meridian sector isn't far from here. I don't think there would be much stopping you from acquiring all that you would need."

Maul smiled. He rose up and offered his hand to you, the heat of his skin unexpected after you took it and got back onto your feet.

"It is the will of the Force. Savage, I believe we have our first recruit."

*

From that moment on, you became the beacon that guided the zabrak brothers across the galaxy. Your navigation and negotiation skills proved more useful than they ever could have imagined. Eventually they grew just as fond of you as you were of them, your relationships nearly bordering on casual romance at times; and you wouldn't have it any other way.

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Return to Me - Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten: The Galaxy Within Reach

A/N: Again, sorry it’s late! School is crazy. A few notes about this chapter: unfortunately, Poe is not shirtless in this chapter, but I thought his expression was perfect (and the gif isn’t too bad to look at either). I headcanon Poe as having a few tattoos, so that’s present in this chapter. I promise, this is (I think) the last time we see the pink dress again. Since we haven’t seen him in a while, I’ll add the link to Lin Ral’s faceclaim again. The speech Poe gives Black Squadron and the title are taken from the Poe comics, which again, you should all read if you love Poe. Umm, I think that’s it. Lemme know if you wanna be tagged and your feedback is welcome! 

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader Word Count: 4,031 Synopsis: As the Resistance scrambles to find a place to go after Crait, the reader has to make the tough decision to reveal her connection with Count Lin Ral in order to save everyone aboard the Millennium Falcon. Both Poe and the reader take the first few steps to getting the Resistance back on track.

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Just get away from Crait. That was the only instruction Leia had given Chewbacca as everyone boarded the Millennium Falcon. Together with Rey, they quickly jumped the ship into hyperspace and left behind Kylo Ren and the First Order on the red salt covered planet. But now that you all were far away from the First Order, you needed to have a more specific course in mind, and preferably to a location that could help get the Resistance back on its feet.

Crowded around the table that Chewie usually Dejarik on, you sat with Leia, Poe, D’Acy, Finn, Rey, and Nové, arguing over where the best location would be.

“But we have allies on Naboo!” you yelled, hitting your hand against the table.

“Our allies may as well be enemies if they are under control of The First Order,” Leia said sternly. “I would love for us to return to Naboo,” she said, softening somewhat, “But until we can send a reconnaissance down to see what has happened, I won’t risk it.”

“What about any of your parents’ friends?” Nové asked, “Could any of them help us out?”

“No one is going to want to stand up against the First Order. Not after what they did to the Hosnian System. People are too scared. They need something to believe in, and that’s not me,” you added quickly, “They knew my parents well, they barely know me. Just by name.”

“What about Yavin 4?” Poe asked with a grin, clearing his throat at your side. “I’m sure my dad would be glad to host us.”

“Maybe for a moment, but we need somewhere to set up a permanent base. The old base on Yavin 4 isn’t operational, and the First Order knows where it is. We need to go somewhere that they would never expect,” Leia said. You found Nové’s eyes across the table and knew that she was thinking of the same place you were thinking of. A place that the First Order would never think to check.

“What about Serenno?” you said.

“Serenno,” Leia said with a smile, mulling the decision over.

“We don’t have any allies on Serenno,” D’Acy said, looking to Leia for some clarification. “At least, none that I’m aware of.”

“I have one,” you said with a smile, “And I think I can convince him to keep us hidden. It might not be a base, but we can definitely lay low for a while, catch our breaths.” Poe looked at you curiously, especially when you said him.

“That’s a great idea, Y/N,” Leia said, “Contact Serenno, and Poe, get this ship on course.”

“Yes, General,” you said at the same time. You both stood, but you allowed Poe to walk out first. Leia gave you an encouraging smile.

“Serenno is the best option,” she said.

“I know,” you said with a frown. She nodded at you once more as you made your way towards the doo with Nové following close behind, as Leia turned her attention to D’Acy. Once you were alone, you gave Nové the same worried look you had given Leia.

“She’s right,” she said with a sigh, “Serenno is the best choice.”

“I know, I’m just not sure Lin will see it that way,” you said, chewing your lip.

“Well, it’s a good thing you can be so convincing.” You frowned at her as she patted your arm. “Come on, we better give him a heads up before we land on his front step.”

You moved down the Millennium Falcon until you found a private corner to reach out to Serenno within. You waited anxiously as Nové tried to make contact, and tried not to focus on everything at stake. You had all lost so much already, you weren’t sure anyone else on board could put up with another loss if Lin Ral refused to help you.

“Alright, Y/N, he should be up soon,” Nové said, pulling you from your thoughts. You turned your head to look at the holographic image of Lin Ral materializing before you and put on a fake, forced smile.

“Y/N. I’m so glad to see you safe,” he said once the connection solidified in front of you. “I got word about Naboo, and only assumed the worst.”

“Thankfully, Nové, Zaisa, and I are safe. I do not know if the same can be said for my people.”

“How did you get away?”

“I was off planet when the attack happened,” you said. He nodded and moved in his frame, seeming to try to get a sense of where you were.

“Where are you now?” he asked.

“It’s a long story, and one that is better said in person. You have been asking me to come to Serenno for quite some time, I hope this isn’t a terrible time.”

“No, absolutely not,” he said with a smile. “It’s perfect timing, actually. I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” you asked, shaking your head.

“Yes. But I’ll wait until you’re here.”

“Alright,” you said with a confused smile, “Lin?” you asked as it seemed he was about to sign off.

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you for another favor?”

“Of course, my lady,” he answered with a smile.

“Don’t tell anyone I’m coming. There is too much left unknown in this galaxy since the destruction of Hosnian Prime, and I don’t know who I can trust.”

“You can trust me and my word,” he said sincerely. “I won’t tell anyone you are coming.”

“Thank you.”

“I shall see you shortly, then?”

“Yes.”

“Fantastic.”

“Oh, and Lin? One more thing?”

“Yes?” he asked, his handsome smile never leaving his face.

“I may be coming with more people than just Nové.”

“Oh?”

“I’m bringing the remainder of the Resistance with me.” His eyes widened, but his smile never faltered.

“With an explanation, I hope?”

“In person, yes.” He laughed gently and nodded his head.

“Alright. I’ll see you soon. Be safe.”

He signed off, and with your bit of good news, you stood up to leave Nové . She was still trying to reach out to anyone on Naboo, even if her hope seemed to be shrinking by each failed outreach. You left her alone and went searching for Leia. At least, that’s where you told Nové you were heading, but you soon found yourself just outside of the cockpit.

“So, this is the legendary Millennium Falcon,” you said appreciatively, taking a step in. Poe looked back at you and smiled. He was sitting next to Chewbacca, co-piloting the Falcon, which had been a dream of his since he was a kid.

“Think you’ve got it from here?” Poe asked Chewie, standing up. The Wookie called a response, making Poe chuckle. You backed out of the cockpit and waited until you were both a few steps away before you looked at him.

“How are you feeling?” you asked.

“Good, considering I was knocked into a wall.”

“Twice,” you reminded him.

“Twice,” he agreed with a laugh.  

“You should get some rest. And you definitely need to get looked at again.”

“I don’t know, I think I look pretty good,” he said with a grin.

“You’d look better without the limp.”

“Help me out?” he asked carefully, nodding his head down the hall.

“I was supposed to go tell Leia that Serenno is awaiting our arrival,” you said, looking the other way.

“Then why’d you come here first?” he asked, taking your hand. You smiled and let him lead you down to a more private room down the hall.

“There’s got to be a first aid kit around here,” you said, beginning to open cabinets and rifle around as you both stepped inside.

“Y/N.”

“Hang on.”

“Y/N,” Poe called again, this time softer. You shut the cabinet you were searching in and turned to him. He was propped up on a bench, his bad leg extended. He had a soft look on his face, his eyes looking up at you pleadingly. “Come here.”

You walked to his outstretched hand and laced yours in his as you sat next to him, your pink dress spilling out onto the both of you. He chuckled as he pushed a lock of hair out of your face and smiled at you.

“Thank you for bringing me back to my senses,” he said, his voice deep and gentle.

“Back in the cave? That was—”

“Not just in the caves. I was beginning to lose my focus, the thing that kept me going. Being around you again,” he said, sighing with a smile, “I’m just really glad you came back when you did.” You smiled softly and looked down at his lips. He tugged on your hand, leading you to his mouth. You met in a gentle entwine. Poe put his hand in your hair, pulling you in closer just as you pushed him off. “What?” he asked.

“Take off your pants.” He raised an eyebrow at you, a smile growing on his face. “So I can check your leg,” you said with a smirk of your own. “I’m sure when you were stunned you opened up the cuts again.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not. Pants.” He sighed and awkwardly stood and stripped his pants off, moving gingerly around his injured leg. You tried to keep from staring, but it was impossible with him. You saw the end of his back tattoo, a large depiction of the Force tree that was planted in his childhood home’s backyard, and suddenly felt breathless.

“Happy?” he asked, sitting back down. You smiled and looked at the gauze wrapped around his knee and lower thigh. Blood was beginning to seep through it again, as you suspected.

“You should have got this checked out a long time ago.”

“Well, I’ve got you looking at it now,” he said with a smile. You rolled your eyes and carefully started to pull the bandage off of his skin. He grimaced as you pulled a little too strongly and grabbed hold of your wrist.

“Sorry,” you said, stopping your movement.

“It’s alright. Just distract me,” he said.

“How?”

“Tell me about this ally in Serenno.” You looked back down at his leg, not wanting to have this discussion.

“He’s a count. I don’t know him all that well.”

“And yet you trust him to keep our operation secret?” The bandage had come off, and now you could see the bloody burns and scrapes that Poe had sustained when the hangar on the cruiser blew up.

“Does it hurt?” you asked.

“It’s fine.” You frowned and quickly brushed his cheek as you stood up again. “Where are you going?”

“To get a first aid kit. There’s got to be one on this ship somewhere.” You didn’t take more than a few steps down the hallway before you found the basics needed to clean him up. When you came back in, you forgot for a moment that he was only in his boxers. You tried to fight the heat in your cheeks, but it was hopeless.

“What?” he asked with a smile.

“Nothing.” You sat down next to him and looked him in the eye. “This is going to sting.”

“I’ve handled much worse.” You frowned at him and turned back to his wound. You poured the liquid into his leg, and indeed, it did sting as he grabbed your arm tightly.

“Ow,” you complained. He smiled at you and soon relaxed as the medication started working. You reached for the new bandage, but he took your hand.

“If you’re going to do that, you have to answer my question.”

“Poe,” you tried, but he frowned at you. He wasn’t going to let it go. “Fine. If you must know, Count Lin Ral is trying to court me.”

“Oh,” Poe said angrily.

“It was arranged by Lord Broden.”

“I thought queens couldn’t marry.”

“They can’t,” you said, beginning to rebandage his leg, “Broden is only looking to the future.” Poe shook his head, looking anywhere but at you. “I don’t want to marry him, Poe.”

“Good.” You scoffed and finished wrapping his leg, cinching it too tightly at the end. He grimaced but didn’t reach for you that time. You stood up and made to move for the door until he called your name again.

“What?” you asked, looking back at him with a sigh.

“Don’t go.”

“I have to give him an answer soon.”

“What are you going to say?” he asked as you moved back to his side.

“I don’t know. My parents were pushing for it, of course,” you said, rolling your eyes as you sat down next to him, “But I don’t want to.”

“Is he nice?” he asked. You looked into his sad eyes and frowned.

“He is.”

“Handsome?”

“I’ve seen better,” you said with a smile.

“He is probably politically connected, too.”

“He is.”

“Sounds like the perfect candidate to become your husband.”

“He is.” Poe looked hurt and pursed his lips. “According to my parents, anyways. There’s just one thing that’s wrong with Lin Ral, that’s wrong with every other man.”

“What’s that?” he asked, looking back at you with wide eyes.

“They’re not you.” He smiled and took your hand in his again. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. That’s why I’ve been so reserved with you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I just couldn’t bear it.”

“I understand,” he said with a nod. He looked you over slowly as a smile spread across his face. “You could make it up to me by taking off your pants, too.” You smirked and rolled your eyes.

“Not here,” you said.

“Then let’s go find a bed.”

“That sounds like a great idea, you need to rest,” you said, standing up.

“Why don’t you help me rest,” he suggested, standing too, and awkwardly shrugging into his pants again.

“I can’t.” He wrapped his arm around your lower waist and pulled you into his chest. “I have to go check with Leia, remember?”

“Yeah, but what if—”

“Poe!” You both turned towards the door and saw Finn and Rey walk in. You pushed Poe off again and took a step back, making him roll his eyes.

“What’s up?” Poe asked.

“We just got a transmission from Jessika.”

“What?” you and Poe asked at the same time.

“A distress signal, for you,” Rey said. Poe looked over at you and frowned.

“I guess resting will have to wait. Go.” He nodded at you and gave your hand a quick squeeze.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said, the worry evident in his face as he slipped out of the room.

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

You delivered the news to Leia, reveling in the fact that she looked relieved for the first time in a very long while. She sent Connix away to confirm the news with Chewbacca, just as Poe walked in. He apologized for the intrusion to your meeting and took Leia away for a few minutes. You looked up at them hopefully when they returned.

“Commander Dameron will not be coming with us to Serenno,” Leia said, looking at you with a frown.

“What? Wait, Commander?” you added with a smile.

“Yes, as long as he doesn’t fuck it up this time,” Leia said with a smirk. “Black Squadron is in danger, and as Poe put it, they are the Resistance.”

“I agree completely, but how are you going to get there? You aren’t going to take the Falcon, are you?” you asked, looking to Poe.

“No, I’m going to borrow a ship.”

“From who?”

“Grakkus the Hutt.” Your eyes widened as you looked between the two of them. “A lot has changed, Y/N/N.”

“Clearly. How soon do you leave?”

“Now. BB-8 just informed me that my ship has arrived, and Black Squadron can’t wait.” You nodded and looked at him with wide eyes, before remembering that Leia was still in the room. She cleared her throat and made a sorry attempt at excusing herself, giving you and Poe a chance alone.

“I know there’s no point in trying to convince you not to go,” you said, standing up as the two of you walked to each other. “But I would really like to.”

“They need me,” he said, taking your hands in his.

“I know, but so do a lot of other people.”

“If you would just say you need me, I would stay,” he said with a smile.

“I don’t think that’s true,” you said quietly.

“No harm in trying it, though.”

“Save Black Squadron, and then come back, safe,” you said, squeezing his hand. “I need you.” He nodded his head and leaned in to kiss you.

“Be safe,” he said when he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.

“I will.” Leia walked into the room a few moments later, breaking the two of you apart. Poe took a step back and left after you both wished him well. Leia took a seat once he was gone and beckoned for you to sit next to her.

“So, what’s going on with you two?” she asked plainly.

“Nothing,” you said with a smile.

“I don’t think that’s ever been true.”

“Well, nothing has changed.”

“You have,” she said. You smiled at her gently. “Are you ready for Serenno?”

“I think so.” She nodded her head.

“What are you going to tell Count Lin Ral?”

“The truth.”

“All of it?” she asked, cocking her eyebrow.

“We’ll see,” you said with a shrug.

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“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Snap asked, standing with Poe after he had come to their rescue on Ikkrukk. “Whatever happened, I mean. Whatever you aren’t telling us yet.”

“Yeah, Snap,” Poe said with a frown, “It’s bad. I’ll tell you all the story, but not just yet. You almost died here, but you didn’t. In fact, you won. You deserve a chance to enjoy it.” Snap smiled back at him and touched his shoulder.

“So do you.”

“I don’t know about that,” Poe said, shaking his head. “You know, I’ve been thinking about all of this. Thinking about the fight.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think it’s about heroes. I used to. Got that idea burned right out of me. It’s not about the Jedi, or the best pilots in the galaxy winning against impossible odds. It’s not about saving the galaxy. It’s about saving your galaxy,” he said as Karé joined their group. “The one within your reach. You choose right over wrong. When it’s dark, you try to bring some light. You end your journey knowing you made things brighter. If everyone made that choice, well, I think everyone can. Maybe they just need to see how you do it. I think that’s the fight.” The rest of Black Squadron had gathered around him and he smiled back at them. 

“I really am so glad you’re all safe,” he said.

“You too, Poe,” Jessika said. 

“Now how about that drink? We’ve got a lot to discuss.”

“Oh, hell yes,” Snap said, leading the group. Poe made sure to catch up with Karé and pull her back from the group.

“What?” she asked.

“What happened on Ithor? I thought there was a general who wanted you to stay for a while.”

“Yeah, well it wasn’t just my flying he liked,” she said, giving him a knowing look. “I bailed after he revealed his real intentions. I’m afraid that means we won’t have their help, though.”

“No worries,” Poe said, shaking his head. “It’s better that you’re here. That we’re all here together.”

“So, that speech Y/N gave me,” she began with a smirk. “That was something else, wasn’t it?” Poe laughed and nodded his head.

“Yeah.”

“I’m guessing she’s part of that galaxy of yours you’re trying to protect.”

“Yeah, just like you,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulder. She wrapped hers around his waist and smiled at him.

“You’re different,” she said with a laugh.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, it’s not exactly different, it’s just a side of you I haven’t seen in a while.”

“And what side is that?” he asked, approaching the rest of the group.

“I don’t know. But definitely like the one I saw when you and Y/N were together,” she said. Suralinda handed him a drink, a peculiar look on her face, but Poe tried to ignore it. Once they all had glasses in their hands, Poe raised his first.

“To a great win, and many more to come. To Black Squadron!”

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

You waited next to Leia as the drawbridge of the Millennium Falcon extended onto a nearly quiet base. You wrapped Poe’s jacket around you tighter as the cold air reached you. A thick cover of trees protected the Falcon from anyone’s line of vision. Even if they weren’t there, the hilly terrain of Serenno made it impossible to see anything more than twenty feet in front of you.

A mist covered light stood a few yards from you, with a tall man standing regally underneath it. You laughed to yourself at his hands behind his back, which was straight as ever.

“Lin,” you said as you approached. He took your hands in his and smiled cordially.

“Welcome to Serenno, Your Highness.”

“Thank you. May I introduce my close friend, L—”

“No introductions needed, General Organa,” he said, bowing softly. “Welcome to Serenno.”

“Thank you for accommodating us on such short notice,” Leia said.

“It was no problem. Anything for Y/N.” You smiled at him before quickly glancing at Leia. Being around Lin in front of her felt like cheating on Poe. “Please, come into the castle. We have food prepared and any medical assistance you might need. We weren’t sure what kind of condition you would arrive in. And don’t worry, my lady, I’ve only told the necessary people, and they’re all sworn to secrecy like myself.”

“I cannot thank you enough.”

“Nonsense. You have nothing to thank me for,” he said, offering you his arm. You smiled and took his arm, sparing a glance back to Leia. Behind her, the rest of the Resistance began to file off of the Millennium Falcon, just as ready to see what Lin had prepared as you were.

“I hope you’ll enjoy your stay as much as you can. I will wait for that explanation until later, but it seems like quite the story,” he said, looking back at the following group.

“It really is,” you said with a yawn.

“I know you must be eager to get some rest, but I cannot wait another moment to give you your surprise.”

“You really don’t have to do anything. You’ve done enough,” you said.

“This is a good one, though,” he said, finally leading you out of the dark tunnels that connected the isolated hangar to the castle. You entered into the warmly lit entertaining area. Your eyes traveled along the rich furniture and the warm fire, longing for a deep sleep anywhere in the room. As your eyes glanced around, they found the surprise Lin had for you. Two figures walked towards you, and for a moment, you had to convince yourself that it wasn’t a dream.

“Mom? Dad?”

[lokvadnod]

Okay so I fucked around and came up with Engineer x f!reader headcanons, here we go:

• So picture it: You get taken in by the engineers. One of them saw something in you that made you more tolerable than most humans, and he couldn’t just leave you stranded in that escape pod in dead space.

• He was initially going to drop you off on the first inhabited planet he could find but your kindness, intelligence, moral compass, and interesting way of thinking kept making him prolong it. Eventually, he just decides to keep you as long as you want to stay.

• That’s not to say that he’s sweet though, bc he’s not, at least not at first. He’s in denial about his budding crush on you and he’s trying really hard not to fall for an inferior human. He’s just... curious, that’s it (he’s lying to himself big time lmao).

• don’t let his tough, cold façade turn you off of him though, just be sweet and crack as many jokes as you can and you’ll eventually break through.

• He can’t fit into some small part of the ship to do repairs because he’s a fucking tank? He begrudgingly asks for your help. “Oh so the little human isn’t so inferior now, huh?” You give him a sly look from halfway underneath the low control panel. He shoots you a death stare from where he’s standing. “Just finish repairing those wires, human.” He says in that impossibly deep voice. You snicker and get back to it but not before you catch a small smirk on his lips out of the corner of your eye.

• Slowly starts being nicer to you, and starts looking at you for longer than is strictly necessary. He decides that you are very beautiful, not even just “for a human” but in general. You’re beautiful.

• When his buddies take jabs at you for being human, he puts them in their place. You’re different. He’d never tell that to your face though. He just takes up for you behind your back.

• In fact, he doesn’t outright let you know how he feels for a good while. Not until he can’t stand it anymore. When he does finally let it out, you see a side of him you’ve never seen.

• “I find you captivating. Truly and wholly good, beyond that which I’ve seen in any other human.” Dude has a way with words. He’s unexpectedly slick but in like a Shakespeare type way. “You are beauty unmatched, and I would be honored if you would allow me to court you.”

• yup, I hc that courting is definitely a thing for the Engineers because why not? They be like that

• Being courted by an Engineer is beyond anything you’d experience with another human. You will never want for anything. You are 110% spoiled. You also get the best gifts ever because your boyfriend is literally a member of the most advanced species in the galaxy (possibly the universe?)

• He treats you like a QUEEN bc that’s how he was raised. You will experience a level of love and respect you never thought possible.

• Y’all never argue. He can get snarky and cold but he is very good at not getting worked up and seeing your side of things. He appreciates it very much if you do the same.

• The first time he tells you he loves you is magical. He takes you to some beautiful planet that no other human has ever even laid eyes on and he spills his heart out to you. It will make you cry, I guarantee it.

Nsfw below because I’m a sucker for big sexy humanoids:

• Okay so my hc for the engineers is that they’re literally the type to wait for sex until marriage. Take it or leave it. If you can get the guy to bed you before you tie the knot, good for you, but that will be HARD. The waiting just increases the tension though, so eventually you’ll be testing each other’s limits like teenagers, always going just far enough to feel both wrong and right at the same time.

• When you do finally get at each other, he’s dominant af because of his slight superiority complex and his size

• Despite being dominant, he’s very vanilla at first. If you want something more, you’ll have to open him up to it. And believe me, he’ll eat that shit up because all he’s ever known is being prim and proper and advanced, and he would be so into getting a taste of the more raunchy side of things.

• The kind of dom that takes care of you and pampers you. After he gets used to the less “clean” side of things, he’s also the kind of dom to punish you if you misbehave during the act (it all just depends on his mood and stress level)

• VERY good at foreplay. He’s huge, he has to be.

• would never hurt you but he likes to show off his strength. You’ll be manhandled into positions you didn’t even know were possible.

• Likes to see you ride him, but he’s still in control. His hands will be on your hips pulling you down onto him at a pace that he chooses.

• seems to have a thing for your hair? He likes to pull on it, play with it, run his big ass hands through it, etc.

• Isn’t rough with you but isn’t exactly not rough either? He’s at least double your size and 1000 times stronger than you so his “gentle” isn’t exactly your standard of gentle but it’s not as bruising as it could be. The best way to describe it is strong and steady.

• The engineers have the best, most effective methods of birth control in the galaxy so ofc he’s gonna cum inside you if you are down with it. You will not get pregnant until you wish to be, if you ever do wish to be. Also, there’s no need to worry about STDs because engineers are too advanced for those too so *finger guns* ((side note: I do totally hc that engineers and humans can have viable offspring bc canon says they made humans with their genes. I don’t think it would be too hard for a human to get knocked up by an engineer, the most it may probably take is a little tinkering from the Engineer doctors or whatever. Like I said, whatever you want, your engineer will provide, even if what you want is a little baby with him))

• Leave some marks on this dude in places that will be covered up by his bodysuit thing (?) the next day and he’ll love it. It’s like evidence of some taboo secret you two share, even though it’s not taboo because you’re married. He’s just never heard of a sex life like the two of you share, so primitive and passionate, and it turns him on to have reminders of it on his skin, just underneath his clothes. He’s also really prideful about it, what other Mala’kak has a spouse like his? The new swagger in his step is almost comical but still so hot at the same time.

[skyeravenhelliquinn]

Happy Accidents

Wrote a fanfic slightly based off of the body paint headcanon I made. I hope y’all like this shitty little story that got way out of hand. I typically never post my writing, but this thing is long af, so sorry. I did not proofread, my dudes. I’ll cut it so I don’t absolutely take over anyone’s dash.

The air was cool and inviting in the hut as you began to occupy yourself in your solitude. Muriel had gone out to gather firewood and other small supplies while you stayed behind to give him some space. You had become a regular visitor in the man’s home, which was a very large step in your relationship to say the least. It had taken quite a number of weeks to get him to warm up to you, but with each passing visit, you had the pleasure of observing the tension between the two of you evaporate into a comfortable trust. You loved to bring him various treats and trinkets from the market when you had the opportunity, and Muriel seemed to greatly enjoy your small gestures of kindness, as evidenced by the way he had begun to set your gifts on the shelves next to his whittled sculptures. The humble hut had changed to feel more like a home since you had met him, and it was having an overwhelmingly positive effect on Muriel, though he himself rarely vocalized this fact.

Sighing contentedly into the silence, you began to pull some rolled up canvases and various jars of paint out of the large sack you had brought with you. Spreading the assortment out on the floor of the hut, you casually selected one of the smaller pieces to unravel. It was a partially complete rendering of a starry night sky, with a few constellations still needing to be inserted. Running a hand over the dry portrait, you let your intuition guide you into your work.

Picking up a small brush, you began dotting white across the midnight background, meticulously mapping out the remaining stars needed to complete your masterpiece. For depth, you decided to add some deep violet and blue hues, swirling them together to create the illusion of a vast galaxy. Your hand continued to glide across the material until every inch of canvas was lovingly covered in your art. With a couple of larger brushes, you flicked some remaining color onto the page, getting your face and hands stained in the process. You wiped a palm across your brow before giving a satisfactory grin to the painting before you, but you realized it still needed a little extra touch. Concentrating your magic on the stars, you waved a hand over the portrait, and below your palm, the white specks flickered to life against the backdrop.

It was then that you heard a soft breath of awe coming from behind you, and, startled, you turned all too quickly to see Muriel standing before you, a pile of firewood in hand. Apparently you had been so caught up in your art that you hadn’t heard him come in, and your hasty movement accidentally tipped the large, open jar of black paint you had resting next to the canvas, spilling pigment all over the freshly finished picture. Muriel saw it before you did, and the poor man scrambled helplessly to save your beautiful painting, dropping the wood to the dirt floor and reaching his arms around and behind you in the blink of an eye. The sudden closeness took you by surprise, and your hands flew up on instinct, gently meeting his broad chest before he shifted back, face crimson with embarrassment.

“Sorry... I didn’t mean to startle you,” was all his gravelly voice murmured, gaze falling to his now paint-covered hands as he sat on his knees in front of you.

You looked behind you to see what he was talking about, and your face fell into a small frown when you beheld your ruined image, now a wet, messy blob of darkness on the ground. Picking up the now empty paint jar, your brows hardened in thought for a moment before you tried using your magic to extract the mess. The black puddle of paint glistened for a moment before most of the inky liquid receded back into the jar, but there was still a distinct black stain permeating your canvas, tainting all the other colors along with your precious stars. You quietly replaced the lid before pivoting back to Muriel, who was dead silent under your gaze. You lowered your voice to speak to him warmly.

“It’s okay, Muriel. It’s not your fault. I should have been more careful.” He seemed to uncoil a bit at your words, settling his shoulders before you spoke again. “I just didn’t hear you come in. Besides, I can start on something new.”

“Like what?” his voice still carried an air of frustration, as though he felt responsible for your portrait’s demise. Perhaps he was disappointed because he had liked it, you thought.

Your eyes drifted around the hut, searching for some muse, when you noticed small streaks of paint from your hands on Muriel’s chest. A fraction of it had dipped into one of his scars, staining the soft tissue and creating a gorgeous, dark texture. The unexpected sight gave you an idea.

“Muriel,” you hummed with a curiosity that was dying to press your luck. The large man grunted in acknowledgement. “Will you sit up straight for a minute?”

His brow furrowed in confusion before he hesitantly sat back and leveled out his posture, leaving the muscles of his torso splayed out before you. You discreetly plucked a small brush and a jar of gold paint from behind you, and began dipping into it before slowly, carefully, moving it toward Muriel’s body, giving him time to protest. When he said nothing, you scooted between his long legs and gently started to smooth the paint across a particularly large scar on his chest, causing Muriel to tense and his breath to hitch quietly.

��Is this okay?” you asked with a hint of concern. The large man took a moment, but nodded silently, prompting you to continue. You brushed the paint in fine lines and swirls around each scar, tracing delicate patterns along the fragile skin. The pigment glistened in the low light of the hut as you worked your way up his body, sparing no detail as you covered every last marking in the shimmering liquid. As you shifted your attention toward his shoulder, you timidly slid the edge of his cloak off of it, and Muriel tensed for a moment before letting his eyes slide shut to relax into your touch. After a long moment, he appeared to actually be enjoying himself, and when you paused to switch colors, he let out an almost inaudible whine at the lack of contact.

With a bit of green, you went back over your previous work to create intertwining vines, with tiny leaves feathering out from the branching edges of each scar. The hulking figure looked absolutely tamed before you, and a blush crept its way onto your visage when you took a moment to glance up at his face. Muriel was unusually relaxed in a way that you had never seen before. His normally hard brow line was completely free of worried creases, his eyes closed as though in a deep trance. His lips had released themselves from their hard line, and were instead parted, letting out soft sighs and hums every now and then. It filled you with repose and a passion to make your new showpiece as beautiful as the canvas it rested upon. Every last stroke of your brush was filled with devotion and purpose as you strived to create an image that would be both pleasing and symbolic to the forest-dwelling man. By the time you had finished, he was practically asleep under your ministrations. He stirred only when he heard the sound of lids being screwed back onto the paint jars.

“Finished,” you whispered with a pleased sparkle in your eyes. You searched around for a reflective surface before finding a small mirror tucked away in the corner of the hut, which you grabbed to let him see your work. When he saw what you had done, he froze, expression unreadable as he sat, staring at himself and the exquisite colors lining his body. His emerald eyes seemed to glow even brighter with the accents of the paint, and there was something very strong and urgent swirling around in his immense irises. His body didn’t move as he simply continued to stare, and you cleared your throat awkwardly, confidence waning in the quietness.

“I-is it… okay?” You stammered, averting your eyes as you fumbled with the fabric of your clothes sheepishly.

This seemed to break him out of his state, and he shook his head before focusing intently on you. He let out a long breath that almost shuddered as it left his lips. As he moved to speak, you could barely notice a gleam of moisture in his eyes.

“I… Yes… It’s perfect.” There was a slight tremor in his voice, and you moved from your position in front of him to wrap your arms tenderly around his neck. His hands drifted absently to your waist, savoring the closeness for a moment before pulling back to admire your handiwork once more.

“I think it’s… almost perfect,” you remarked, realizing that it needed one last thing. You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths and focusing magic into your hands once again, and the golden sheen of the paint came alive like glowing embers against Muriel’s skin. He was positively dazzling like this, embraced by the soft luminescence of the wild flora you had created for him. His body appeared to be one with the wilderness he adored so much, the leaves on his body seeming to breathe with him as he sat cross-legged before you. Muriel looked so different under the illusion of having no scars, no reminder of the gruesome past that he was forced to endure. It felt so pure, so riveting to see him like this, unhindered by those eternal marks just for a few fleeting moments.

You could feel him staring at you in the midst of your thoughts, and upon returning his gaze, you saw his eyes glazed over with a softness that was beyond anything you were accustomed to. His glassy orbs were half lidded, longing hidden in their depths. They called to you, and you felt yourself leaning into his body on instinct, the familiarity entirely inviting to your senses. He didn’t pull away, but instead waited for a fraction of a moment, his heated breath ghosting over your lips in a small gasp before the two of you connected. The kiss was stiff at first, but as Muriel’s mouth molded to yours, any reluctance the two of you had seemed to melt away. He was rough to the touch, but his movements were so agonizingly gentle as he returned your affections. Seconds passed like hours as you savored each other, but after a short time, you pulled back for air, heart thumping wildly in your chest. Muriel was crimson all the way to his shoulders, so after a brief pause, you decided to say something first.

“I’m glad you like my art Muriel. You make a lovely canvas.”

His blush only deepened at your words, and you chuckled a bit at his flustered expression. There was a trace of a smile on his lips though, a sight which sent a flood of joy through your veins. You ran a soft thumb over his scarred cheek, and his face nuzzled into your palm without any hesitation.

“I should probably help you wash this off,” you spoke again.

“Not yet,” he responded rather quickly. “I like it…”

“Okay,” you grinned, silently thanking your own clumsiness for knocking over that paint jar before pressing another kiss to Muriel’s eager lips.

[sasorikigai]

Send a word and I will write a drabble or headcanon based on it || @heamatic || always accepting!! 

vice (noun). a weakness of character or behavior; a bad habit

Hanzo Hasashi; 

The tragedy isn’t them; the tragedy is what they wanted the world to be. He wants to lock lips with his beloved and be carefree and he wanted to be untouchable like the sky with Harumi. He was always told he shouldn’t think everything in his life is everlasting, but that was the mistake he wrapped himself in when he imagined a future with her. There still are moments he dreams of running back into the past, and erasing the instances when their lives decided to melt together for good - the moment Satoshi was born, to be precise - as Hanzo still thinks about their first kiss - that happened much earlier in the point of time of their relationship - and their fervent, sensual lovemaking and the declaration of his love as he officially took her hand in the sacrament of their sacred matrimony. 

Despite all of the cynical view of his life and the absence of his loved and treasured ones through the tragedy in his life, Hanzo still becomes a herculean wall, the halcyon fire that light the limbo of darkness with timeless resistance as the cyclical nature of his undoing and wrongdoing, as the Pandora’s box of his weaknesses become the carnivore incarnate; with its all-consuming and overwhelming ruthlessness, would crumble the foundation of Hanzo’s rationality and sanity. The shipwreck of his annihilative endeavor had left all the pieces floating and illegible, as he was the sole survivor who endured the two disparate extinction of the Shirai Ryu as all the harshness of the rushing darkness, starting in his chest as it hollows out a space next to his heart, pushing on his ribcage and eating at his lungs. 

This is what it is; love, the tenderness of his mind that comes with the equilibrium of hunger and curiousness glowing in his eyes. Beneath the moonless night, as he transcribes the lost translation that still lucidly lives in the depth of his mind, Hanzo lets persisting hiraeth - the homesickness for a home he could never return to, a home which maybe never was; with all the nostalgia, all the yearning, all the grief for the lost places of his past which he could not defeat - unfold like ever-flowing tragic fire continually brewing in his mind. Hanzo Hasashi would become Orion himself, as his poignant, saddened look embedded in his eyes land upon the celestial bodies overhead; for he was meant to become the same capable hunter, who could not ever breach Scorpion’s thick carapace, who evaded the fight with the creature only to meet his unpredicted demise at the hands of his dear friend. For the night feigns the brightness of day and folds its dusky wings.

Kuai Liang; 

Such life he keeps; kept between the matched colors of the stars to the back of his contained within the milieu of his quarters, and he knows, bruises and imprinted scars make for a better story. His inner workings had become this immense galaxy that he has inside of his brain that connects to the soul and beats through his thawed heart. How his blood continues to pump, surging into a messy spill against his scarred left eye. Much like medication and more like meditation, the thriving frequency of the Lin Kuei’s past - despite its corruption and inner turmoil - would help him to track the train of thought to where he last felt okay. 

How everything persists with shadows, with memories that linger and spread a sad quality; whether from good or bad things, he foregoes daybreak, because it is the hardest time of the day. How it screams of uncertainty and tastes both of hope and woe. With all the delicate petals of his memories of Bi-Han the first to go; their vivacious colors drained, as they shriveled in on themselves. They would fall to the ground like the ashes of a tragic fire and even the glimpse of life that had been left beneath the crumbled rubble would follow suit and be swept up and away in an arid, powerful wind. The fibrous threads of the stem would stand strong and noble for as long as they were able, but couldn’t bear the weight of themselves no longer and slowly came to its defeat against the earth. All that remains would be the roots, Kuai Liang’s obstinate continuance that would grow enliven with the desire, as they dare to behold, to faithfully and desperately clinging, to the vision of what it once was, of what they had once created and embodied. 

What will it take? What will it require? What measures must be exercised for the flower to flourish again in the midst of harrowing merciless and resoluteness of Arctika and the world threatening to cause a sweeping landslide against the Lin Kuei’s still-ongoing battle for vindicated honor? 

Kuai Liang’s ever-straightened figure sits up above the layering tones as the dark, which takes over the vanishing twilight as the darkness consumes him whole. Beneath the orbiting axis of time, his conscious remains slightly bent, in enthralled trance, as his emotions gloriously sheds themselves as the ceaseless gush of waterfall falls from his sapphire orbs with such potent discharge. No idle thoughts left in utter vain as he controls the silent, scintillating waves, threatening to topple over the edge of submission as the familiarity of crushing, lost symphony becomes the ravaging tremor against his hard shoulders, then descends through his strong biceps, then to his digits, as pervading permafrost of pale blue coats him, derivative of his traumatic resistance as the soaring, surging heatwave of the room engulfs him whole. 

[rebirthe]

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         this place reminds her of when she first took shape and sinew during her rebirth. it’s a strange memory to have, an omen of a nightmare—— it was all omens, encoded in the sacred geometry of the galaxy. it was tied in together, she just couldn’t see it physically, it’s flashing behind her eyelids. orin has concentrate on wu ming’s words to pull her from the precipice as she tries to explain how the nine have… altered her mind. opened it, shut it, pried it apart and spat in it. he’s so eager to learn all he can, and for a moment there’s a bit of delightful irony. the tables had turned and where once she sat thirsty for knowledge she now had the power to give it freely if she so chose.       her hand is shaking, she’s shaking at the recollection but it spills from her lips. the way the nine work isn’t something one can truly explain, but all the same orin tries. they want a warrior, they want the worthy, it’s like a mantra and she can feel herself spiraling out. her mind thrown back into the abyss like a plaything except… she’s feels a hand on her own, like a nightstalker’s tether. he’s tethering her back to reality, and once glazed over eyes turn to their purple color once more. her breathing’s uneven, and he asks her what the hell had just happened. there’s a laugh, but it’s bitter and cold like the dark.       ❛  you  asked,  they  wanted  to  answer.  ❜        a pause, she continues. ❛  i’m  okay.  ❜        he grips her hand tighter and for once the galaxy doesn’t seem so quiet.        a tether was all she needed.