#cyantomatoes

[just-here-for-the-moment]

JHFTM Fic Recs - blank slate Reader Insert fic recs - The Ezra Edition

JHFTM Fic Recs Main Menu

February 28, 2023 fic recs

Blank Slate Reader Insert Fics - These are fics I've really enjoyed and where I did not find any racial descriptors of the Reader Insert character. No blushing, no red marks, no visible bruising, no white-coded hair or skin descriptors that I could see! 🌟🌟🌟

My own notes are added here, but please heed all author warnings. My blog and all fics that I recommend are for 18+ friends only. Minors do not interact.

Dear Writer by @lowlights - Ezra and Cee meet their favorite authoress. 💖 This is fluffy and sweet and I love it so much.

I'll be damned if anyone makes you feel like you aren't worthy of being loved by @cyantomatos - Ezra feels unworthy, and he tries to talk you out of loving him

Hold Fast to Dreams by @brandyllyn - Ezra x f!bookseller/librarian. Ezra returns after far too long, only to find he owes thousands in fines. And he can't stay away from the feisty librarian. A lovely, deeply dreamy story.

Keep your eyes on me by @lowlights - A short, HOT smut prompt for Ezra x f!reader

Confined by @imtryingmybeskar - You land in a prison cell and get to know the loquacious prospector. A lovely little slice of characterization!

Deeds of Green Thrilling Light by @highsviolets - Modern Voice Actor Ezra AU x GN sound engineer reader insert. Smoldering, HOT HOT HOT shenanigans in the recording studio with Ezra.

Washing Ezra in the tub by @foli-vora - Ezra returns home to you with his arm missing and Cee in tow. You welcome him with a loving rubdown in the tub and a very HOT handjob.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

writer wednesday #18 - 11/02/2022

Happy Wednesday, everyone! Apologies for falling off the bike last week with this list - I had a weird one. But I’m back on the bike now, and I’m making up for the lack of list last week by going on a massive reblog spree for the rest of this week, so if you’re looking for things to read that will make you say WOW!” start with these three, and then stay tuned for more recs and reviews!

*as always, this list is ordered by length*

This Max Drabble by @cyantomatos

Max P x GN!Reader

October Writing Challenge

WC: ~500

Okay, first thing’s first: I typically don’t read a ton for Max P. Did I enjoy the movie? Yes, I laughed my ass off. Especially because when I first watched it, I worked in an office that was literally sucking my soul, so I found it v relatable. And would I let Max turn me or keep me as a pet or drain me as a snack in a heartbeat? You bet your bottom dollar I would. But I still don’t typically seek out fics for him - for no real reason, I’m realizing as I write this. This one though? This little drabble? It grabbed me by the throat and throttled my heart. This is certainly Max... but its Max like we’ve never seen him before, because its Max in the future, once he’s spent lifetimes living with someone who sees (and loves) him for who he is. Its a classic “love soothes the savage beast” but with a really beautiful and bittersweet twist that I don’t want to give away, but be prepared for this one to pull at your heartstrings. Yes, even though Max P is a four loko frat boy business student turned vampire boss. Trust me. 

Hunter and Prey (part 1: The Girl With the Golden Eyes) by @mandosmistress

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Spooktober 🎃👻🦇

WC: 3k

OH BOY AM I STOKED ABOUT THIS ONE! Since this is the first part of a series, there’s some set up here, but it is fascinating. There’s absolutely great Din characterization. There’s an extremely intriguing Reader character. And there is hot fire when it comes to the chemistry between them. Because even though it’s just the beginning, there is still some intense smut here, and I for one can’t wait to see what happens when these two get their hands on one another again. And I can’t wait for him to learn who - and what - she is. I love it when Din is matched with someone who is just as capable and dangerous as he is, and that seems to be just what he’s dealing with here even if he doesn’t know it yet. Buckle in, Djarin, I think you’re in for a while ride (and I’m thrilled to get to take it, too!) 

Stunt Double by @something-tofightfor

Dieter Bravo x F!Reader (Locked Down universe)

Kinktober - Sex Toys

WC: 8.3k

Aside from maybe a modern Oberyn, I cannot think of a character who would enjoy (and make the most of ) making their own “stunt double” more than Dieter Bravo. This man is such a sexual being. Yes, by now we all know that there is more to him - especially this version (Locked Down) of Dieter. But a large part of who he is is someone who is adventurous and open minded when it comes to sexual exploration. And now that he’s got a partner who he trusts completely and who knows him inside and out and who would never judge him and who has been there for him through ups and downs and who he is head over heels in love with? This man is ready to chart entirely new territory. I absolutely love that almost everything that happens between them, no matter if its serious or fun or simple, always boils down to the solidity of their relationship. The actual smut in this one? HOT AS FUCK. But I’m just as dazed and dizzied by reading about their love and how damn strong it is. The bonus of getting Dieter Nye the Science Guy with this one is the cherry on top. #Science. This was flipping great, and I will be reading it over and over just like the rest of LD. 

[sirtadcooper]

Five headers of Pero Tovar (The Great Wall).

Requested by @cyantomatos.

1000 x 562px.

Please like/reblog if you use or save them, thank you! ♡

Want another colour? Just ask.

Previous headers are available on my headers page and headers tag.

[frankiemorales]

The cutest & grumpiest boy for @cyantomatos 🥺

[hopeamarsu]

Oh I love this ❤️

“Ask me again” - Swoon city here I come.

Drunk Words and Sober Thoughts

Pairing: Benny Miller x GN!Reader Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: Mention of alcohol/drinking, self deprecating thoughts Summary: After a night out with Benny, you have to face the consequences of your actions.

The sun streaming in your windows pulls you from sleep. You roll over and squint at your clock to see it’s just after 8 in the morning, earlier than you expected to wake after such a late night. As you contemplate the time, your actions from the night before suddenly come flooding back, and you feel a pit form in your stomach.

You’d practically thrown yourself at your best friend, finally confident enough with just enough alcohol in your system to do something about your feelings, and it ended with him depositing you in bed. Alone, because sober you was right. He didn’t want you.

Fighting the urge to curl up under your blanket and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist you slide out of bed, intent on getting some food. You may not have gotten a hangover, but you were hungry. If you stayed in bed you were only going to mope, and food came first. You could mope later on a full stomach.

Keep reading

[leiakenobi]

14 and 23!

14. a fic you didn’t expect to write

Reader-insert in general. I think "when day is done" might have surprised me the most. I've always been iffy on somno because of the obvious consent question, so my discomfort with the trope extended beyond just "oh this takes me out of my writing comfort zone." But as I was in the middle of planning my kinktober fics, I was suddenly just hit with the premise for the fic and I needed to write it. And I genuinely think it's one of the best and sweetest sex scenes I've written.

I answered 23 here! 💜

(fanfic end of the year asks)

[knivesareout]

Steve, obviously

obviously, you say

[firefly-graphics]

Ooh Ooh Ooh I'm so happy your requests are open again! I wanted to request some dividers for a fic series I'm writing because all of your dividers are amazing! Do you think you could do some Dorne/House Martell themed dividers from Game of Thrones? I'm writing an Oberyn series and would love to use some dividers specifically themed for it. I was thinking maybe with the Martell sun, but the design of that seems to be all over the place, so whatever you think looks good honestly.

Hope you like these @cyantomatos

Please like and reblog if you use or save.

Dividers List

[the-blind-assassin-12]

writer wednesday #18 - 10/19/2022

🍁🎃🖤 Happy third Wednesday in October, everyone!! I hope everyone is enjoying spooky season and that you’re making time for fun fall things and nice cozy things and things that make the chilly nights a little warmer. And if you need some stories that will fit into those categories, here are three great places to start!

*as always, this list is ordered by length*

This Joel Miller ficlet by @oonajaeadira

Winktober - Lingerie

Joel Miller x Reader

WC : 217

No sneak here because I don’t want to spoil all the fun and it’s all wrapped up in six wonderful sentences anyway. Just take my word on this one, friends. Adira’s 😉tober ficlets have all been a ton of fun, but this one is easily one of my favorites. This is so Joel that I can hear the grumble and see the way his expression changes.

This Ezra Story by @cyantomatos

October Writing Challenge 

Ezra x F!Reader

WC: 1.1k

The comparison of Ezra’s confidence levels before and after his time on The Green is heartbreaking. Even though it turns out he always had some doubts about himself (reading about the way he would hold Reader made me tear up and I made an audible sound), seeing the way they multiply and darken his thoughts after he gets back would hurt so much. But the way that Reader handles this situation is perfect, and it makes me so happy to know that he’s got someone who knows exactly how to pick him up when he’s low. Hopefully it eventually happens less and he can start to believe in his worth more, but for now I’m just glad these two have each other. This was lovely. 

This Din Story by @in-for-a-pennyx

Kinktober - Leather & Handjobs

Din Djarin x F!Reader

WC: 1.3k

😳🥵🥴 this. was. HOT. Everything from the description of Reader’s outfit to the way Din reacted to seeing her dressed like that - and then everything else that happened - was all so vivid and clear and made this such an immersive read. Did my face get hot when I read this? You bet it did, and I had to take a deep breath when I was done, too. Ask for Din’s help, she thought. Little did she know which one of them would be helping which. I enjoyed the heck out of this, and if you love reading about the Tin Can Man being a little juuuuuust bit vulnerable (and very turned on), then you’ll love this one.

[starlightsearches]

Mistletoe and Holly

Part 1 │Part 2│Part 3

Modern! Armitage Hux x Femme! Reader

Notes: Hello all! I gotta be honest, these last few months have not been awesome for me. The school year has been super tough, and I have not had nearly as much time or energy for writing as I wanted. I wasn't planning on doing anything for Christmas, since I didn't think I'd be able to finish it, but after seeing @cyantomatos incredible winter prompt list, and reading @girl-next-door-writes lovely 10 days of Huxmas, I couldn't not be in a Christmasy mood. This is what I came up with, and I'm super excited to share it with you. All three parts are written, and I'll be posting them every other day this week.

This is heavily inspired by girl-next-door-writes 10 days series, so if you like this even a little bit, PLEASE go and check out her stuff.

5. Chocolate / Jewelry / Cold from cyantomatos winter prompt list

Warnings: just language, fluff and some angst

“Is this really your house?”

Your eyes are wide, and bright with reflections of the white-yellow lights adorning every eave and branch of Brendol’s estate. Thick flecks of snow catch in your hair in a kind of makeshift crown, too cold to melt just yet.

“It’s my father’s,” Armitage answers without really answering. He’d never spent longer than a few weeks here after his father moved to America. They were miserable breaks away from various boarding schools, until he was old enough to elect to stay in the empty dormitories for the duration of Christmas. Curled up alone in the frozen picture windows with some monotonous morality tale from the library was still an improvement to the seemingly never-ending days locked in his father’s hallways, always awaiting some new torture disguised as celebration.

You put your hand out on his arm, urging him to stop, and the world goes quiet, absent his echoing footsteps and frosted breaths.

“You’re not royalty are you? If you’re in line for the throne you have to tell me.” There’s laughter in your voice—an inside joke after all the Hallmark movies you’d forced him to watch during long nights of dull casework.

Armitage decides to play along, albeit a bit more macabre. “Only if my father dies.”

It’s difficult to hide his smile as he treks on towards the door of the colossal estate, listening to the clack of your footfalls on the cleared cobblestone drive as you catch up, taking him by the arm.

He shouldn’t feel this way—overcome by such a luminous sensation every time you touch him, like he’s warming his hands by a fire. He reminds himself, over and over and over again, that you’re friends. Just friends. Work acquaintances, really.

Although, he knows that’s not really true either. Work acquaintances don’t agree to spend the holidays together. Work friends aren’t supposed to be your date to family Christmas parties.

Armitage sighs through his nose. It’s awfully cliche of him to be head over heels for his pretty paralegal, and it’s awfully depressing that you’ll never feel the same way for him.

You manage to reach the covered doorstep without incident, despite the thin sheen of ice and the treacherous height of your heels. He pauses for a moment, holding you back from knocking on the door just yet.

“I have something for you,” he says, reaching nervously into the inner pocket of his coat.

Armitage hadn’t been sure if he would give you the gift. He’d purchased it a month ago, but the receipt still sits folded crisply in his wallet. There were a few times he almost returned it, planning instead to buy something a little less insinuative—like a gift card, or fuzzy socks. He stopped himself each time, at the thought of you wearing it.

He places the dark jewelry box into your gloved hands, and you look up at him through your lashes with a smirk. “Isn’t it against the rules to open a gift on Christmas eve?”

“I thought you might want to put it on now.” He hopes you’ll attribute the rosiness in his cheeks to the wintry chill, and he watches intently as you pop the lid on the jewelry box. Your soft gasp turns to a cloud when it escapes your parted lips.

“Armitage,” you whisper, the tip of one finger brushing along the delicate chain, “it’s beautiful.”

His chest fills with pride, the tension finally releasing from his shoulders. It had been quite the gamble—buying you jewelry. He wanted something understated, classic. Something appropriate for the office, and not overtly romantic, but still personal. Something that would remind you of him.

You lift the necklace from the box, holding it up to the light, admiring the pearl pendant that hangs from it’s center.

“Will you help me put it on?”

He swallows hard, and takes it from your hands, along with the box, tucking the latter back into his pocket. You turn away from him, pulling the scarf from around your neck, faint goosebumps spreading across your skin now that it's been exposed to the frigid air.

His hands shake as he undoes the clasp, circling the chain around your neck, his gloved fingers brushing against the neckline of your coat. He can’t believe he manages to secure it on the first try.

“How does it look?”

You turn back to face him, patting your hair to make sure it’s still in place. It suits you perfectly—the chain sitting gracefully against your skin, the delicate pearl resting just below the hollow of your throat.

“Lovely,” he breathes. He’s not talking about the necklace.

The lack of light—or maybe it’s the cold—must be playing tricks on his mind, because he’s almost certain he can feel you leaning in towards him.

“Thank you.” Your voice is a whisper in the darkness.

“Don’t mention it.” He whispers back.

He can feel that he’s leaning in, now, too, and he catches himself, clearing the air with a cough. “It’s well deserved—for all the hard work you do.” Your eyes go wide, your gaze falling to your shoes.

Jesus. Had that been a moment between you? If it was, he'd managed to fuck it up spectacularly. Before he can let the weight of his failures register, he knocks loudly on the door, and it opens for him immediately.

You’re welcomed in by Brendol’s staff—two men who begin helping you both out of your coats and scarves and gloves before ushering them away as quickly as they can manage, and you’re left standing in the entryway in your party clothes.

It looks just as he remembers it. The tree takes up most of the enormous room, reaching practically to the ceiling, the star perched at the top so high that Armitage has to crane his neck to take it in. The entire thing is dripping with lights and ornaments, each bow weighed down with gold and silver bobbles the circumference of his hand. The rest of the space is equally festive—decked in garlands and ribbons, although they’re a little more tasteful. That must have been Maratelle’s doing—Brendol wouldn’t bother with those; no one would see them as a status symbol, unlike the tree.

Armitage restrains himself from rolling his eyes.

He’s about to say something to you, maybe make a wry comment about the overwhelming smell of pine, but he stops. You’re staring at the decor, lips parted, with an expression that could only be described as wonder.

Armitage softens. Without the thought of past misery, without all the ire he holds for his father, it’s like The Nutcracker come to life. A winter fairytale—the kind that children dream about, and probably adults as well, although a little more privately. It must be, in your eyes, the makings of a perfect Christmas.

He wishes he could feel that way, too.

Any possibility of that is immediately dashed into pieces—Brendol and Maratelle have walked into the room.

Unlike the house, his father looks much worse than he remembers. Gaunt, with bloodshot eyes and dark creases beneath them, Brendol hides his sneer behind a sip from his whiskey glass, and it’s clearly not his first of the night, given the way his hand shakes. Something must have happened to put him in such a sour mood on his favorite event of the year. Maybe one of the staff addressed him and forgot to add “sir” at the end. Or maybe he’s just now realized he can’t spend the next two days humiliating Armitage for coming to Christmas alone, again.

“Father,” Armitage offers him the barest form of greeting he thinks he can get away with, ushering you forward. With both Brendol’s eyes and yours on him, it’s become difficult to think, despite all his planning. He’s not sure whose expectations he wants most to meet.

He settles on an awkward grab at your shoulder, pulling you a little closer and then hesitating when you stiffen, like an estranged relative has forced you into an unwanted hug.

You move past his embarrassing stumble after your initial hesitation, stepping close against his side with a self-conscious laugh, your torso nestled against his, and the smell of your perfume in the air. He tries to continue without incident, despite the sudden lightheadedness he feels.

“This is—”

You practically lunge at his father, shaking Brendol’s hand with a jittery vigor just as he stutters out your name. Brendol manages a not-overtly offensive grunt in response—either too drunk or too stunned to admonish you for the perceived offense. When his gaze flits back to Armitage, though, his jaw is tense with rage.

Oh god—he should have prepared you for this. He had plenty of opportunities—in the office, on the couch at his apartment, eating your first meals of the day together late into the night. It just . . . it had never felt right. They were holy places when he was with you, and inviting the thought of Brendol felt like sacrilege.

And he didn’t necessarily see it as a problem if his family thought you were a couple, even if he hadn't said the words out loud.

Maratelle is slightly more polite during her own introduction, shaking your hand and offering Armitage a small nod. There’s never been any love between himself and Maratelle, but they can at least commiserate in the fact that they’re both forced to put up with Brendol.

She attempts to make pleasant conversation, asking about the drive and the weather, but every word said is overshadowed by Brendol’s stern glare. Armitage ushers you away soon after that, not wanting to spend a single second in the same room as his father if he’s not being forced to do so.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” you’re muttering the words under your breath, holding your face in both hands as he steers you towards the nearest waiter. Grabbing two glasses of champagne, he hands one to you, which you drink from immediately, staring at the ceiling like you’re hoping to be raptured, “I am so sorry.”

He almost chokes on his champagne, before righting himself, watching you incredulously. What could you be apologizing for?

“What?”

“I completely embarrassed you back there,” you respond, shifting your weight from foot to foot, looking anywhere but his eyes, “I was so nervous, and I wasn’t even thinking, and I just . . . I wanted them to like me.”

Your voice grows smaller with each word, and the sounds rattle around in Armitage’s brain, becoming more jumbled by the second, like someone has vigorously shaken a box of puzzle pieces.

“My father doesn’t like anyone.”

It’s not the best response he could come up with, considering what you just told him, but it is the truth. You do at least laugh, somewhat pulled from your worries, nudging him in the side with your arm.

“Come on, be serious! He must like you, at least a little.”

He’d never understand it—how sure you are that he’s worth something, just because you manage to tolerate his presence. You’ve come to his defense before, in the breakroom while the interns bitched about his behavior and none of them assumed he’d be walking by. It’s different, hearing this kind of praise outside the office, and to his face. It’s not just that you think he’s intelligent, or hard-working, or good at what he does. You think that he is good.

He’d take that over approval from Brendol any day.

Armitages offers you his arm; he should be introducing you to the rest of the guests, but he whispers one last assurance, hoping you’ll feel at ease.

“I’d be more worried if he did like you.”

There’s people in almost every room on the first floor, chatting cooly and filling up on hors d'oeuvres before the meal has even started. A few of the guests are family—distant cousins and such who strain to remember Armitage’s name—and old colleagues of Brendol’s. The overwhelming majority are Armitage’s former coworkers, still employed by his father at First Order Industries. The Christmas Eve dinner has been a tradition since Armitage’s childhood, and while most of the guests would probably prefer to spend this time in their own homes and with their families, they’re forced to be here—either too desperate for Brendol’s approval or too afraid of his displeasure.

No one is excited to see him. He’s not bothered by it—he hadn’t wanted to see any of them either. The mutual displeasure is almost as satisfying as the way their eyes go wide when they see you on his arm.

Dinner starts soon after that, just as he'd planned; he had hoped to arrive in time to avoid the majority of the socializing. You keep at his side, following his lead on the way to the expansive dinner table, overflowing with glittering china plates and delicate glassware.

It would be nice, under different circumstances, to be here with you. He’d be able to appreciate the way your lips curl up when he pulls your chair, or the soft weight of your hand on his arm when he sits down beside you. If this were some other party, he’d give you all of his attention, whispering in your ear and sharing smiles over dim candlelight, alone together in a sea of people.

While it’s not what he wants, the dinner isn’t overtly painful. Brendol is just out of range for polite conversation. Instead, you’re entertained through the courses, talking animatedly with the wives of Brendol’s business partners.

He’s certain they’re searching for gossip, excited to debrief over tea in the following weeks and dissect each and every minute gesture you’re making. You play the part beautifully, to your credit—recounting your stories animatedly, moments he had forgotten or passed by without much thought. They carry more weight told from your point of view; he almost believes it, too.

Praise falls generously from your lips as you describe the pro bono cases Armitage has taken on this year, and when his father scoffs; you don’t even stumble.

He wants to stare openly, but he restrains himself. How easily you’ve taken away Brendol’s power. You’ve reduced him to a petty, complaining drunk without a word, and it strikes Armitage in the chest: that’s all that he is.

Could it be possible that you’re right about him, as well?

The night grows long, and yawns are interspersed by bites of rich chocolate tart and sips of warm brandy. Your hand rests comfortably on his wrist, your fingers drawing calming shapes as you explore the landscape of his skin, and he decides finally that bringing you here might be the best idea he’s ever had.

“A room has already been made up for you,” Maratelle says to you, sitting stiffly in her chair, “It's in the guest wing of the house, I'm sure Armitage can show you after dinner—”

“Jesus Christ, Mara,” Brendol interrupts, finally drunk enough that not even the watching eyes of his guests can keep him quiet. “He’s a grown man, not a child. They can stay in his room. Save the maids the trouble of two sets of soiled sheets.”

Fucking hell. Armitage’s face bursts into flame, and Maratelle fumes silently, staring at her husband with wide eyes.

“That would be indecent, dear,” she seethes through clenched teeth, just barely managing to maintain her decorum. It’s the only thing that sustains her, in this god awful relationship. She’d rather be dead than divorced.

Brendol rolls his eyes, slamming his glass down on the table, ensuring that anyone on the other side of the room who may have missed the spectacle are now fully aware.

“My god, Mara, he has a place of his own now. It’s hardly uncommon for a man his age to share a bed with someone he’s seeing.”

It’s imperceptible to anyone but him—the glance Brendol sends him across the table, so quick he could almost pretend he’d imagined it, if he didn’t know better.

Damn him. There’s know way to tell how long Brendol had known that your whole relationship is a farce, but it doesn’t matter. He knows, and he’s determined to ruin his son over this little charade.

“I think,” Armitage speaks up, just barely keeping his anger at bay, “we might all be more comfortable with keeping the arrangements as they are. I wouldn’t want to overstep any boundaries.”

Maratelle sends him an appreciative nod, turning back to see what Brendol will say now that Armitage has sided with her. She doesn’t know any better; Armitage’s side is always the losing side when it comes to Brendol.

His father is about to speak again, smiling wickedly, living for the chance to toy with his son.

“Actually—” all three of their heads turn to you, hearing your interruption, and Armitage can scarcely breathe, “I think it would be a wonderful idea if we stayed together.”

Your eyes are only on him, fingers sliding between his own, and he’s sure he won’t live long enough to see how this all ends.

“Of course, if it’s alright with you.” You turn back to Brendol, waiting for his permission—his surrender. You’ve beaten him at the game he designed in his favor.

Brendol grits his teeth, fuming silently, but he nods, and the other guests slacken, grateful that the conflict is over.

Your fingers are still entwined and you give his hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance. He barely notices. All his thoughts are taken up by the knowledge that in no time at all, he’ll be laying in the darkness beside you. Alone.

He offers you a pathetic attempt at a smile and takes a long drink from his brandy glass, kept sane only by the thought that there will be an entire year’s worth of days before he has to spend Christmas with his father again.

That is, if he survives this one.

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[sirtadcooper]

Hi! I found your blog through someone sharing some Din headers you made. I was hoping since it looks like you take requests, would you be willing to do any for Pero Tovar from The Great Wall? He's my baby, but I haven't been able to figure out how to use him for a header because headers honestly kinda confuse me 😅 If there's some rules about requests I missed I'm really sorry, let me know!

Hi there! :D

I have actually been meaning to watch The Great Wall soon! It’s been a few weeks since I last watched Pedro in anything (Wonder Woman 84 and Pedro was great) and so I’m due another indulgence soon! I would love to make some headers for you but I don’t want to see any spoilers while looking for photos so can you leave it with me? I won’t be long as I genuinely was going to watch the film in the next week. I was just struggling to pick between Equalizer 2 and Great Wall! 

[frankiemorales]

I would literally kill for a lock screen or background of Tovar. he's my baby and it's a crime against humanity that there's not more content for him. ᶦᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ᵗᵒᵒ

Yes I’d LOVE TO (did you read @softpedropascal’s sequel she dropped today??? Stop what you’re doing and go read it if you haven’t👀🥵) Send me a message and we can figure the details out!✨✨

[emmikmil]

wiaww Day 5

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Prompts: Chocolate / Jewelry / Cold

Warnings: V romantic and V sweet

Word Count: 556

A/N: Droids are my favorite characters in SW so of course BB-8 had to be in on it. Credit of this challenge goes to @cyantomatos

You feel like something is off with Poe today. You can’t put your finger on exactly what has changed about him though. You sit and wonder about it as you eat lunch, analyzing details you remember. Maybe his hair is a little more frizzy? His shirt is a little too loose?

You think back on your morning with him, How for once you were able to wake up in his arms, both of you sleeping later than you should have. It was a rush to get ready, you dashing out of the door before him but even then he seemed different. You didn;t think he was nervous about his mission tomorrow, but his droid unit BB-8 had been especially quiet today. Odd behavior from your boyfriend and his droid.

Usually those two find you and bug you every moment they can spare. You didn't see Poe all day, but you told yourself he's preparing for his mission so it shouldn't be that worrisome. You continue to try and not wonder or worry as you mindlessly flip through some news articles on your holopad. It's taken your mind off things while you wait for Poe to come home. It's distracted you enough that  a small thump on your leg makes you jump and look down at BB-8.

You smile and lean over to pat his little head as he chirps and beeps away telling you about a… “A present? Poe got me a present? Poor thing, he's making you be his errand droid.” You coo at the little droid as he opens the small compartment in front of his body and he holds out a ring? You take it and stare in confusion, turning it towards you and tilting it in the low light and then it hits you.

It’s not just a ring, it's the ring. The one Poe has worn faithfully around his neck for the entire time you’ve known him. Your brain clicks into overdrive as you try and process your emotions as BB-8 wiggles around in anticipation and looks between you and the doorway. You look up to see Poe, happiness and nerves swirling in his dark eyes. He scans your face and takes a few steps to kneel in front of you. You're breathless with tears as you say his name. “Poe. This is your mother’s ring...are you?” The question hangs in the air as he reaches for your shaky hand.

Poe settles your hand on his cheek and kisses your palm before turning back to face you. “It was my mothers, but I'm hoping from now on it will be yours. If you'll have me.” An indignant squawk from the droid at his side makes you both chuckle. “Sorry buddy, If you’ll have me AND him.” The brightest smile lights up Poe's face, making the stubble under your hand scratch your palm and soft creases form outside his eyes. You feel like you're in a daze as you look at him, so beautifully perfect. Poe is the brightest star you have in this galaxy filled with unrest and war. You say nothing and instead slide your hand to grip a fistful of curls at the nape of his neck and bring him in for a kiss. 

After a moment Poe breaks away breathlessly and bites his lip. “So that’s a yes, right? You never said it but I'm gonna to assume-” You make sure his lips are too preoccupied to keep babbling, calming his nerves with a deep kiss.

“Yes Poe, my answer is yes. So shut it and kiss me again Dameron.” You pout as he pulls away, but instead he gently takes the ring and slides it onto your finger. He takes a moment to stare down at it on your hand before kissing the ring gently. He looks back to you with unshed tears in his eyes and does what you asked, only softer and sweeter.

**I have not set up any sort of taglist just yet but if you would like to be tagged in this month’s challenge/ other writings please shoot me a message

[moon-kn1ght]

hellO y'all! i hit 1200 followers (and kept going) a couple weeks ago so i want to pause and celebrate tonight/tomorrow. i'll be doing short ficlets/blurbs for any ship or character that you think i'll write well. i'm comfortable with anyone in the marvel universe or all oscar isaac characters. (OH and andrew garfield). i'm VERY down for slash ships. also send we weird as fuck shit. what strange thoughts about characters popped in your head while you were daydreaming the other day? that is hella up my alley.

you can send me an idea with a character or ship or you can pick one of these words to describe facial expressions as a prompt!

i'll fill as many as i can! (and i might end up making it as a ship even if you send in just character). thanks for sticking around here with me. i’ll also be doing some ask games throughout the evening and feel free to slide in and talk to me about WHATEVERRR. we can also chat multiverse of madness cause i’m going to see it rn! (and i’ll be tagging spoilers) (and of course always down to chat moon knight anywhere and everywhere)

tagging some mutuals and new followers below the cut <3

mutuals: @budcooper @marvelousmermaid @acedameron @userpoe @foggywells @allaboardthereadingrailroad @pilothusband @wyn-n-tonic @green-socks @kesskirata @wasicskosgirl @bluejones @cyantomatos @literatureandqueen @jazzelsaur @hyperfixatingmenever @fuckoffbard @dirty-holy-things

new followers: @dianne-blackstorm @buckythevampyrslayer @harrypotterismysaltandpepper @sallyjacksontheweirdauthor @hoodgirl163 @doeholly @ahookedheroespureheart

[steddieassheg0es]

@cyantomatos

Listen I need you to know those tags just made my entire night. Nay, my week.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

writer wednesday #19 - 11/16/2022

🐪Happy Wednesday, everyone! Can you believe we’re half way through November already? I can’t. You know what I can believe, though? That the three fics I’m about to rec are absolutely GREAT. So if you’re looking for something to read today, why not start right here with two Marcuses and a Max?! Happy reading, friends! And don’t forget to like, comment, reblog or drop into the asks of the writers to let them know how much you appreciate them, and so others can find their great work too!

*as always this list is ordered by length*

This Drabble by @cyantomatos

Marcus Pike x F!Reader

WC: ~600

Short & sweet - trigger warning for claustrophobia.

Okay. Listen. I’m not claustrophobic. But I have PLENTY of other anxieties, and I simply cannot believe that Marcus Pike calmly talking me through a situation wouldn’t immediately help things. Even if I didn’t know him. Even if he was a stranger. Because at his core, Marcus Pike is a caring, genuine, chivalrous man, and you nailed that aspect of his personality here. Reading this made me smile. Real big. And I hope these two have a GREAT time the next time they’re together.

Busboys and Poets by @something-tofightfor

Marcus Pike x F!Reader

WC: 2.3k

One-shot

👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 Marcus Pike out here on a date that isn’t going well and proactively pulling the plug!! You know what that is?! GROWTH 🤌🏻. This man has learned because he’s been burned and that is very sexy of him. It means he knows what he’s looking for - an actual connection with someone. That thing that you can’t really define you just know it when you feel it. That’s what he’s looking for and I am so happy for him for actively seeking it out instead of just going along with something that doesn’t feel right in the hope that maybe it will. This is Marcus after he’s picked himself up and decided what he wants out of a relationship. This is Marcus Pike with a clear head and an open heart and I am just so damn glad that he went for a walk after that #DateFail because hot damn when one door closes another bench opens. I loved this, and you did SO right by Marcus. Thank you for this.

Reflective by @prolix-yuy

Max Phillips x F!Reader

WC: 8.9k

Warnings on this one for blood & smut & more - make sure you check them out before you read!

Okay I don’t know what’s going on with me but lately I’ve just been gravitating towards this funky jerky little vampire dude, and this right here was JUST what I’ve been craving. First of all, this description is probably the most accurate one of Max I’ve ever seen. He’s such a problem. But working for him in this capacity and having that level of trust with him sounds like a dream job - um, you know, aside from the… like… blood and danger et cetera. Eh you know what? whatever I’ll take all the above. I loved this for a lot of reasons, but mostly for the way that Max is so protective of Reader. Shoot that shit into my veins please and thank you. GOSH I’m excited to read the next piece of this one!!