Hey! I Really Like Your Writing But I Wanted To Let You Know That You Often Mention The Reader Turning

Hey! I really like your writing but I wanted to let you know that you often mention the reader turning red/blushing which can be a little alienating... Hope you don't mind that I pointed it out because I otherwise enjoy your fics a lot!

tysm for letting me know! that was never my intention, i'll work on how i write those scenes to be more inclusive!!

This is an appreciation post for the fanfic authors who aren’t included on rec lists

For the fanfic authors who don’t get art of their fics

For the fanfic authors who can’t get to 1000/500/100 hits

For the fanfic authors who don’t get comments/reviews

For the fanfic authors who write for small fandoms

For the fanfic authors who write rarepairs or gen fics

For the fanfic authors who get hate for the ships/characters/fandoms they write

For the fanfic authors who write in English despite it not being their first language

For the fanfic authors who don’t write in English

For the fanfic authors who don’t think anyone reads or likes their work

For the fanfic authors who aren’t big name fans

For the fanfic authors who don’t get requests in their inboxes

For the fanfic authors who can’t write stories that are more than a thousand words

For the fanfic authors who only write one ship

For the fanfic authors who are just starting

For the fanfic authors who have been writing fic for years

For the fanfic authors who use fanfic to practice writing

For the fanfic authors who write self-insert fics

For the fanfic authors who write about their OCs

For the fanfic authors who write to vent or cope

For the fanfic authors who are just waiting for their big break

Keep creating, I love you ❤️

Consequences of Anger-Spurred Outbursts

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Fem!Solo*!Reader

*(mainly bc i just wanted reader to be leia's daughter for comedic reasons, it's an easy bit to ignore if you'd like to do so)

Summary: After learning some information about one of your pilots, you go a little haywire. Poe is both impressed and a little shocked.

Word Count: 1700 ish

Warnings: dumbass men, punching, minor injuries

You were just about up to your neck in reasons to hurl the nearest wrench across the hangar. The mission had gone well, but what it going well entailed was driving you up the wall. You and Poe had been sent by Leia to meet General Calrissian about some troubling information he’d picked up in some backwater bar on Ryloth. Apparently, one of the Resistance’s pilots was dirty - selling out intel about Rebel tech to the First Order in exchange for credits. Even worse, Lando’s information had confirmed one of your deepest, most buried worries. That it was someone in your squadron.

You’d tried to remain impartial to the pilots under your command in the long extent you’d been on base, but Dext Stamat had always struck you as a little off. Rude, toeing the line of insubordination on multiple occasions, and always asking too many questions. Of course, curiosity and ambition among your pilots was usually a good thing. It meant that they were engaged, interested in the cause, and you always loved sharing the knowledge you’d picked up as you've traveled across the galaxy. However, Stamat had strange habits of asking for details about upcoming missions that even you didn’t know yet. It had unnerved you from the beginning of his stint in your squadron, especially as his questions began to coincide with mishaps, even smaller ones, that began to throw off missions of larger and larger scales.

And now, you knew why. That dirty, dirty pig.

You were going to skin him alive.

“Just wait 'til I get my hands on that piece of shit,” you snarl as Poe attempts to discreetly wrestle you away from the hustle and bustle of the main hangar to the tarmac outside. It’s best if this conversation goes unheard.

“I know you want to, and for a good reason, but you can’t. Leia- General Organa needs him alive. If he’s been communicating with the First Order, that means he knows how they’re operating, to a certain extent. He’s valuable to her. To us.” You sigh, letting the frustrated noise signal your reluctant agreement. He’s right, after all; Dext is a dirtbag, but he’s a dirtbag that could get you some leads. You take a deep breath, starting to feel yourself cool off.

“Hey, did you see me out there? I bet Dameron couldn’t do that.”

You furrow your brows, turning your head to find the source of your confusion.

Poe’s grip on your hands tightens as Dex and his pack of buddies (more like lower-level fighters that follow him around out of pure fear) enter the hangar. He’s boasting about a recent flight, of course. When is he not? Your blood boils in your veins, a roaring sound creeping into your ears as he rambles on and on about how he’d executed a double loop. It’s pretty basic, jackass. My mom could fly better than you.

You can feel your cheeks start to flush red. Poe sees, and wisely lets you go. It’s best if he lets you handle this on your own. You wouldn’t do anything brash, would you? No, he decides. You wouldn’t do anything.

He watches as you casually stroll past the group of men, leaning on a nearby fighter and picking at your nails with a spare screwdriver you’d found on your way over. From your spot closer to the pilot, you can hear every word tumbling carelessly out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I just punched it. Let ‘em eat my space dust, if you know what I mean.” He tilts his head back, guffawing at his own joke. The group around him quickly lets out a round of polite laughs, nervously glancing back and forth between Stamat and each other. “I straight-up smoked them, I tell you. I’d like to see Pretty Boy Poe pull that one off.” No longer able to contain yourself, you clear your throat, relishing the momentary look of bewilderment on Dext’s overexaggerated features. It doesn’t last long, unfortunately. His beady eyes quickly harden, lips tilting into a smirk.

“Hey, Solo.”

“That’s Commander Solo to you, Dex.” Using his nickname’s a low blow, you know that, but you just can’t put up with his bullshit anymore. Especially not after being told of what he’s been doing - what he’s cost you. Who he’s cost you. His jaw sets into a sharp line, and he lets out a low, raw noise that almost sounds like a growl.

“Oh, is that so, Commander?” he says mockingly, and you sigh, not meeting his eyeline as you return your attention to your gritty nails. Damn flight gloves - you should probably clean them more often. You smile inwardly as he grumbles with annoyance.

“You know, Stamat, I’d be more careful about how you treat superior officers,” you say lightly, tilting your head to meet his gaze. He sneers down at you, momentarily glancing back. You follow his sightline, to see Poe standing against a far wall.

“Why?” he whines comically, toying with you. “Or you’ll report me to your boyfriend?” You glare at him, and he just offers you his pathetic attempt at a simpering smile. “You look pretty flushed, Commander. Have you two been busy lately?” he asks, snickering. The roaring sound in your ears gets a little louder. It mingles with the sound of boots against concrete as Poe makes his way over. He’d heard that last comment.

“You heard her, Stamat. Watch it,” he warns. You cringe inwardly. Poe, why? Just let me deal with him. Please. Dext just ignores him, the only indication he’s aware of his presence being an offhand glance over his head.

“Aw, do you need him to come fight your battles for you?” he asks, chuckling. “How cute. You know, if this short stack of griddle cakes isn’t doing it for you, my quarters are always unlocked.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” you say, taking a step forward. Poe grins as Stamat stumbles back.

That’s my girl.

“Oh, yeah, trust me, I can give you so much more than flyboy over here,” he sneers. He opens his mouth to spew some more infuriating bantha fodder, but the only sound that exits his mouth is a high-pitched yelp as your fist soars upwards and connects with his jaw. His heavy form collapses to the tarmac, and his eyes shudder closed. Poe freezes, turning to face you.

“Y/N!”

“WHAT?”

“You punched him!”

“Eh,” is all you say, before picking Stamat up by the arms and dragging him inside. Poe watches you exit the hangar, not knowing if he should worry about how mad Leia’s going to be or marvel at how strong you are.

After a few moments, he snaps out his trance and jogs into the building, following the trail of confused, concerned stares you’d left in your wake all the way up to the General’s small office in the middle of the base. He catches up to you just outside the door. You seem unfazed as you tote Dex’s rather large body around, and he just watches, in awe, as you drag him into the office.

Of all the things General Leia Organa thought she’d see today, Poe Dameron leaning in her doorway while her fuming daughter drags in the limp body of a pilot to her was not one of them. Still, it wasn’t totally out of left quadrant, so she just sighs, sits down on her small couch, and says: “You have five minutes to explain.”

To her shock, one of the usual rambling verbal essays she can often predict when talking with Commander Dameron doesn’t come. You just stretch your fingers and approach her, boots thudding softly against the floor.

“General Calrissian told us that this one here-” you pause to jerk your thumb downwards to the unconscious pilot who is now drooling on her carpet. “-has been selling us out. Giving details to the First Order about our new ships and weaponry. I’ve had a bad feeling about him for months, and now I know why. Do with that what you will. I’m gonna take tomorrow off. I injured my hand.” And with that, you walk out of her office, rubbing your knuckles. Poe stares after you, and the General waves a hand, dismissing him. He offers her an apologetic smile, then dashes out of the room.

He falls into step beside you, shooting a glance in your direction. His eyebrows shoot skyward as he surveys the poorly restrained satisfaction written on your face. For fuck's sake, you're grinning.

“Why in gods’ name are you smiling right now?” he asks, and you chuckle.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.” He pauses, staring at you. Your stomach drops. He looks offended. A muddled apology begins to tumble from your lips, but your words halt on your tongue as he bursts into laughter, takes your face in his hands, and presses his lips to yours.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs, and you blush, ears turning the color of a tomato. Smirking, Poe brushes a few stray hairs from your face. He finds it incredibly satisfying that you can knock a 6’4 dude out cold, yet he can still make you turn bright red in the blink of an eye. He goes to take your hand, but you pull away, hissing.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I hurt my hand,” you say, and he blanches, concerned. “Don’t worry, just a little bruising.” He relaxes visibly, and you grab the corner of his jacket. He swings around to face you. “However, I think it is mandatory that you come watch a HoloVid with me and eat a slightly unhealthy amount of popcorn.”

“You just learned we’ve been sold out to the First Order and all you can think about is a sleepover?” he asks incredulously, not admitting he'd been on the verge of proposing the exact same plan.

“We’ve got a couple of days before we can do anything about it,” you say, and Poe narrows his eyes at you. He knows you’re right, of course. Grinning, you fix your eyes to his, pouting out your bottom lip slightly. Godsdamnit, you’re adorable when you do that, he thinks, finally conceding with a nod and an exaggerated eye roll. “Yessss,” you cheer through your teeth, pumping a fist in the air.

Poe chuckles, wrapping an arm around you and pressing a kiss to your hair. All things considered, this was shaping up to be a relatively decent afternoon.

taglists:

permanent: @staarshines

poe: @zoriis @obiwns

Dameron’s commitment is absolute, and he’s our best pilot. He’ll get what we need. I’ve never worried about Poe’s commitment. My worry is for what that commitment may cost him.

buzzfeed unsolved is ending i'm not ok

Consequences of Anger-Spurred Outbursts

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Fem!Solo*!Reader

*(mainly bc i just wanted reader to be leia's daughter for comedic reasons, it's an easy bit to ignore if you'd like to do so)

Summary: After learning some information about one of your pilots, you go a little haywire. Poe is both impressed and a little shocked.

Word Count: 1700 ish

Warnings: dumbass men, punching, minor injuries

You were just about up to your neck in reasons to hurl the nearest wrench across the hangar. The mission had gone well, but what it going well entailed was driving you up the wall. You and Poe had been sent by Leia to meet General Calrissian about some troubling information he’d picked up in some backwater bar on Ryloth. Apparently, one of the Resistance’s pilots was dirty - selling out intel about Rebel tech to the First Order in exchange for credits. Even worse, Lando’s information had confirmed one of your deepest, most buried worries. That it was someone in your squadron.

You’d tried to remain impartial to the pilots under your command in the long extent you’d been on base, but Dext Stamat had always struck you as a little off. Rude, toeing the line of insubordination on multiple occasions, and always asking too many questions. Of course, curiosity and ambition among your pilots was usually a good thing. It meant that they were engaged, interested in the cause, and you always loved sharing the knowledge you’d picked up as you've traveled across the galaxy. However, Stamat had strange habits of asking for details about upcoming missions that even you didn’t know yet. It had unnerved you from the beginning of his stint in your squadron, especially as his questions began to coincide with mishaps, even smaller ones, that began to throw off missions of larger and larger scales.

And now, you knew why. That dirty, dirty pig.

You were going to skin him alive.

“Just wait 'til I get my hands on that piece of shit,” you snarl as Poe attempts to discreetly wrestle you away from the hustle and bustle of the main hangar to the tarmac outside. It’s best if this conversation goes unheard.

“I know you want to, and for a good reason, but you can’t. Leia- General Organa needs him alive. If he’s been communicating with the First Order, that means he knows how they’re operating, to a certain extent. He’s valuable to her. To us.” You sigh, letting the frustrated noise signal your reluctant agreement. He’s right, after all; Dext is a dirtbag, but he’s a dirtbag that could get you some leads. You take a deep breath, starting to feel yourself cool off.

“Hey, did you see me out there? I bet Dameron couldn’t do that.”

You furrow your brows, turning your head to find the source of your confusion.

Poe’s grip on your hands tightens as Dex and his pack of buddies (more like lower-level fighters that follow him around out of pure fear) enter the hangar. He’s boasting about a recent flight, of course. When is he not? Your blood boils in your veins, a roaring sound creeping into your ears as he rambles on and on about how he’d executed a double loop. It’s pretty basic, jackass. My mom could fly better than you.

You can feel your cheeks start to flush red. Poe sees, and wisely lets you go. It’s best if he lets you handle this on your own. You wouldn’t do anything brash, would you? No, he decides. You wouldn’t do anything.

He watches as you casually stroll past the group of men, leaning on a nearby fighter and picking at your nails with a spare screwdriver you’d found on your way over. From your spot closer to the pilot, you can hear every word tumbling carelessly out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I just punched it. Let ‘em eat my space dust, if you know what I mean.” He tilts his head back, guffawing at his own joke. The group around him quickly lets out a round of polite laughs, nervously glancing back and forth between Stamat and each other. “I straight-up smoked them, I tell you. I’d like to see Pretty Boy Poe pull that one off.” No longer able to contain yourself, you clear your throat, relishing the momentary look of bewilderment on Dext’s overexaggerated features. It doesn’t last long, unfortunately. His beady eyes quickly harden, lips tilting into a smirk.

“Hey, Solo.”

“That’s Commander Solo to you, Dex.” Using his nickname’s a low blow, you know that, but you just can’t put up with his bullshit anymore. Especially not after being told of what he’s been doing - what he’s cost you. Who he’s cost you. His jaw sets into a sharp line, and he lets out a low, raw noise that almost sounds like a growl.

“Oh, is that so, Commander?” he says mockingly, and you sigh, not meeting his eyeline as you return your attention to your gritty nails. Damn flight gloves - you should probably clean them more often. You smile inwardly as he grumbles with annoyance.

“You know, Stamat, I’d be more careful about how you treat superior officers,” you say lightly, tilting your head to meet his gaze. He sneers down at you, momentarily glancing back. You follow his sightline, to see Poe standing against a far wall.

“Why?” he whines comically, toying with you. “Or you’ll report me to your boyfriend?” You glare at him, and he just offers you his pathetic attempt at a simpering smile. “You look pretty flushed, Commander. Have you two been busy lately?” he asks, snickering. The roaring sound in your ears gets a little louder. It mingles with the sound of boots against concrete as Poe makes his way over. He’d heard that last comment.

“You heard her, Stamat. Watch it,” he warns. You cringe inwardly. Poe, why? Just let me deal with him. Please. Dext just ignores him, the only indication he’s aware of his presence being an offhand glance over his head.

“Aw, do you need him to come fight your battles for you?” he asks, chuckling. “How cute. You know, if this short stack of griddle cakes isn’t doing it for you, my quarters are always unlocked.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” you say, taking a step forward. Poe grins as Stamat stumbles back.

That’s my girl.

“Oh, yeah, trust me, I can give you so much more than flyboy over here,” he sneers. He opens his mouth to spew some more infuriating bantha fodder, but the only sound that exits his mouth is a high-pitched yelp as your fist soars upwards and connects with his jaw. His heavy form collapses to the tarmac, and his eyes shudder closed. Poe freezes, turning to face you.

“Y/N!”

“WHAT?”

“You punched him!”

“Eh,” is all you say, before picking Stamat up by the arms and dragging him inside. Poe watches you exit the hangar, not knowing if he should worry about how mad Leia’s going to be or marvel at how strong you are.

After a few moments, he snaps out his trance and jogs into the building, following the trail of confused, concerned stares you’d left in your wake all the way up to the General’s small office in the middle of the base. He catches up to you just outside the door. You seem unfazed as you tote Dex’s rather large body around, and he just watches, in awe, as you drag him into the office.

Of all the things General Leia Organa thought she’d see today, Poe Dameron leaning in her doorway while her fuming daughter drags in the limp body of a pilot to her was not one of them. Still, it wasn’t totally out of left quadrant, so she just sighs, sits down on her small couch, and says: “You have five minutes to explain.”

To her shock, one of the usual rambling verbal essays she can often predict when talking with Commander Dameron doesn’t come. You just stretch your fingers and approach her, boots thudding softly against the floor.

“General Calrissian told us that this one here-” you pause to jerk your thumb downwards to the unconscious pilot who is now drooling on her carpet. “-has been selling us out. Giving details to the First Order about our new ships and weaponry. I’ve had a bad feeling about him for months, and now I know why. Do with that what you will. I’m gonna take tomorrow off. I injured my hand.” And with that, you walk out of her office, rubbing your knuckles. Poe stares after you, and the General waves a hand, dismissing him. He offers her an apologetic smile, then dashes out of the room.

He falls into step beside you, shooting a glance in your direction. His eyebrows shoot skyward as he surveys the poorly restrained satisfaction written on your face. For fuck's sake, you're grinning.

“Why in gods’ name are you smiling right now?” he asks, and you chuckle.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.” He pauses, staring at you. Your stomach drops. He looks offended. A muddled apology begins to tumble from your lips, but your words halt on your tongue as he bursts into laughter, takes your face in his hands, and presses his lips to yours.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs, and you blush, ears turning the color of a tomato. Smirking, Poe brushes a few stray hairs from your face. He finds it incredibly satisfying that you can knock a 6’4 dude out cold, yet he can still make you turn bright red in the blink of an eye. He goes to take your hand, but you pull away, hissing.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I hurt my hand,” you say, and he blanches, concerned. “Don’t worry, just a little bruising.” He relaxes visibly, and you grab the corner of his jacket. He swings around to face you. “However, I think it is mandatory that you come watch a HoloVid with me and eat a slightly unhealthy amount of popcorn.”

“You just learned we’ve been sold out to the First Order and all you can think about is a sleepover?” he asks incredulously, not admitting he'd been on the verge of proposing the exact same plan.

“We’ve got a couple of days before we can do anything about it,” you say, and Poe narrows his eyes at you. He knows you’re right, of course. Grinning, you fix your eyes to his, pouting out your bottom lip slightly. Godsdamnit, you’re adorable when you do that, he thinks, finally conceding with a nod and an exaggerated eye roll. “Yessss,” you cheer through your teeth, pumping a fist in the air.

Poe chuckles, wrapping an arm around you and pressing a kiss to your hair. All things considered, this was shaping up to be a relatively decent afternoon.

taglists:

permanent: @staarshines

poe: @zoriis @obiwns