#starryeyedstories

[tennant-the-tigger]

I just wanted to send an ask telling you how much I absolutely love your art!!!!!!! You have this incredible talent for coming up with scenes that the show was missing and capturing so much love and familial connection in your drawings, I just love them so much

Awww thanks! Super pleased to hear that! I'm a sucker for family love and connection. I wish there was more in the show, but it's all good, I'm happy to fill in that void for everyone!

Here's a quick sketch of our boys <3

[tfa-archived]

Kiss 26 with Poe? Pretty please this totally isn’t inspired by anything that has been said on discord

“i was supposed to take a shower alone but sure, jump right in”

gender neutral reader, nonsexual nudity throughout, one (1) slightly suggestive line

There was no better way to unwind after a mission than taking a shower, in Poe's mind. A lot of the other officers sometimes complained about the pressure of the shower heads being too high, and while Poe was sympathetic to their aversion to the sensation, nothing felt better to his stiff and sore muscles after a long flight than the prickling of the warm water against his shoulder blades and neck.

So much so that he hadn't actually gotten very far into the cleaning up process, and Poe genuinely wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there. All he knew was that he'd nearly groaned when the first sprays of water hit his aching back, relaxing it enough that his eyes slipped shut.

There was very little that he indulged himself with on the base, but the comfort of a hot shower that lingered a little too long when his duties were done for the day, was the exception.

His eyes were still closed when the shower curtain pulled aside, a rush of chilly air from his bathroom flooding the stall. A shiver fingered down his spine even as Poe smirked a little, peering one eye open to say, “I was supposed to take a shower alone but sure, jump right in.”

You scoffed a little at him, picking up your washing sponge from the other side of the stall that he kept his. “I had a five hour recce today, baby, waiting around for you to hog up all the hot water was not an option.”

Poe hummed a little, regretfully taking a step away from the spot that had the highest water pressure, so he could put his hands on your hips. You'd been together for nearly a year now, but he didn't think he'd ever quite get used to this; the implicit trust of being this vulnerable together, of knowing the other one would be there after a bad day. “Did it go well?”

“It was long and boring,” you answered. “Which means I felt every single second of those five hours but…yeah it went well.”

Poe's breath caught a little as you flicked your gaze up at him from under your eyelashes, dew from the shower clinging to them. He reached up, gently brushing his knuckles along the curve of your jaw. “Good.”

The ghost of a smile tugged at your lips, knowing that Poe really meant your boots were back on the ground, safe and sound.

You gave him a quick once-over, noticing no new bruises or scrapes on him (if his mission had gone poorly enough to involve a skirmish, you'd have known by now, but Poe had an uncanny habit of getting injured even when he wasn't in a cockpit).

Rivulets of water ran down the hollow of his throat, down his chest and his forearms, more toned and broad than his signature flight suit would ever have you think. You swallowed a little bit, bringing your gaze back up to his face, to the slight flush on his face from the warmth in the air, to the way a stray curl has gotten stuck to his forehead.

“Like what you see?” Poe teased good-naturedly.

You rolled your eyes, pushing gently on his chest, making him laugh. “I think we've well established that I like what I see, Dameron.”

That lovely little flush rose a little higher, reaching the tops of his ears now. “Yeah, we certainly have that.”

Poe leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. Despite your flirting, the kiss itself held no intentions beyond the desire to hold and be held. He kissed you slowly, like you both had all the time in the world, like there was never ever any reason to stop, like there was no need to push things further.

When you finally pulled away for air, your stomach was fluttering in that all too familiar way that only Poe seemed capable of causing. “Poe?”

“Yeah?” His voice was a little rougher now, lower in his throat. It did nothing to help the butterflies in your belly.

“The water's getting cold.”

Poe's eyes snapped open in surprise, glancing over his shoulder at the shower head as a tiny, “Kriff,” passed his lips.

You laughed a little bit at him, pushing him again under the spray of water. He shot you a lopsided grin in return, and you handed him your sponge. "You clean me up, I clean you up?”

His eyes softened at the corners. "Yeah, I can do that.”

[userpoe]

“friends and family thinks we're dating because we're always acting like a couple” with Michael Perry?👀

I fully blame you and Rachel for making me fall in love with him btw bc I still haven’t watched the movie

nova i can't even remember when u sent this i just happened to skim through my inbox and was like 👀

The innocuous question that caused yet another avalanche of disbelief from your friends is still lingering in your mind as you slip out of the coffee shop to begin your trek to the school to meet up with Michael: ‘you mean you two aren’t dating?’

God, you’d wanted to bury yourself into your latte as soon as your friend’s girlfriend asked the question, knowing full well the rest of the lunch would be spent hearing about their skepticism that there wasn’t anything there between you and Michael. It was the same with your family; more often than not, you wound up correcting people when they referred to him as your boyfriend because everyone assumed that you were together.

“No, there’s nothing there like that,” had always been your answer, even if ninety percent of the time no one ever believed you. And you couldn’t blame them, not really, not when you were such a terrible liar, not when they’d all seen you and Michael hanging out: the two of you could talk about anything, could jump from three different topics effortlessly and without forethought in the same conversations, you met up after work every other day, texted each other frequently, and…well there was the lack of personal space, too.

When you get to the school, you smile and wave to some of the students you recognize from previous visits. One little one tells you “Mr Perry is still in class!” as they rush past, eager to get out the door and back to his parents.

“Thank you! Have a good weekend!” You call back, your steps quickening just a little bit, excitement zipping through your veins, nearly outshining your remaining exasperation from lunch.

He’s still putting things into his bag when you reach his door, his back turned to you. His hair is a little more tousled than normal this afternoon, which is a sure sign of a hectic day. You lean your shoulder against the doorframe, sincerely debating just staying quiet and waiting til he turns around to realize you’re there.

But there’s a tension to his shoulders that you don’t like, so you push yourself forward. “Hey.”

Michael glances back towards you, a smile twitching the corners of his lips however briefly. “Hey, I figured you’d be here later.” The rest of the paperwork goes into his bag quickly, so he can close it and turn to face you. “You had that thing with your friends.”

You look down at where he’s braced himself against his desk, fingers rapidly drumming the underside of it, “We had to cut it a little short, so I thought I’d run down and surprise you a little earlier. You okay?”

Michael blinks once, clearly taken aback by the end of the sentence. His eyebrows knit together, “Yeah, why?”

“You seem…tense.”

He considers that for a minute, then nods a couple times. “You know how sometimes a Friday feels like a Monday?”

You wince. “That bad?”

He gives a partial shrug, but his fingers go still. “The kids were good, it’s just everything else kept going wrong. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You don’t look good either.”

You drop your mouth in mock indignance. “Ouch, thank you.”

Michael rolls his eyes. “You look annoyed.”

You move to join him, your hips pressed together as you lean against the edge of his desk. “I got asked again.”

By now you don’t even have to specify which question, because Michael’s heard it as much as you have. He laughs as he tips his head up to stare at the ceiling. “They never quit, do they?”

“Nope,” you reply gravely, staring at the chalkboard in front of you for a moment before turning to look up at Michael, your heart somersaulting at the tiny smirk on his face.

“Are you ever going to tell them?” he asks, raising an eyebrow and it’s damn near impossible not to break out into a wide grin. Because maybe you hadn’t been lying all those years of denying there being anything romantic between the two of you, you had been today.

You shrug. “Maybe when it stops being new.” You’d only started dating a few weeks ago, and you’re not quite so eager to shove the relationship into the spotlight, to hear a chorus of ‘I told you so’s, and you don’t think Michael wants to either.

“I don’t think it’s that new,” Michael protests lightly.

You elbow him slightly before standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “You’re probably right. Now…how about we grab some takeout and head back to yours so we can turn this Friday around.”

“It turned around the second you stepped through the door,” comes his reply as his hand slips into yours and you don’t even bother trying to keep the dorky grin off your face this time.

[nowritingonthewall]

Poe is absolutely the most ticklish person in the Resistance, no I do not accept feedback

This was literally one of my first Poe hcs ever 😂

Unfortunately, even though he knows that he is the most ticklish person in the galaxy the Resistance, he can’t stop instigating tickle fights with you, because they are such an important part of his love language. Especially when he tries to cheer you up or in the morning, when neither one of you wants to get up and just need that little bit of extra motivation to start the day. And having Commander Dameron begging you for mercy within five minutes of waking up isn’t the worst way to start your morning, is it?

[starryeyedsweetheart]

The way Calum and Y/N worked always amazed other people. Looking at them, you could just see it. Even with the naked eye, you could see the strings that connected them--the way each move of an arm from one would tug the other closer without ever actually touching. 

He came up to her when she was standing by the fireplace. With each flicker of the fire, the bass of the song reverberated through the house party. Each beat. Each hum. All of it sounded like the world falling apart to Y/N. She was never one for crowded parties. 

Calum falls into her line of sight, a head of curly hair and warmth whenever he smiles at her. He was her best friend. No matter what he said, or did, he would always be warm--even more so than the fire that tickled at the ends of Y/N’s fingers.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. With one dopey smile from Calum and a nod of her head from Y/N, they were walking out the backdoor. The strings that connected the pair entangle like vines crawling up the side of an abandoned greenhouse. Although messy, the plants curl around one another to make something as shattered as this glass house something worth looking at.

There weren’t many people in the backyard--only a few drunkards smoking a blunt on the back patio. Calum and Y/N ambled passed them in silence. Their feet smothered the summer green grass beneath their worn shoes before reaching the hammock hidden between the luscious trees of the host’s garden. 

Calum sat down first, Y/N falling into him as the hammock swung with their weight. In sync, their heads turned to the sky, but there weren’t any stars. That’s what you get for living in Los Angeles. It’s the city of angels, but the graveyard for constellations. Instead, the pair bask in the moonlight. 

Y/N closed her eyes, the static in her mind dulling to let the sound of cicadas and crickets croak. She was a homebody. Every time she went to these parties, she would go back to her apartment and take deep breaths until she felt like herself again.

However, there was something about the warm air and the smell of a cool summer night that felt so much like home.

Calum turned his head to look at her. The way her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks because Y/N was never good at turning her mind off. She’s never looked so at peace and so worked up at once. Calum smiles to himself at her restlessness.

He whispered her name, as if speaking too loud would wake the monsters lurking in the dark of the night. She blinks slowly, waiting for more words to pour out of his mouth, but the faucet was twisted shut.

“Yeah?” she hummed softly. She turns to him, his brown eyes staring at her with the most delicate of looks.

“Nothing,” Calum replied. “Just wanted you to look a’me.”

A smile peaks behind her full lips, cheeks turning rosier than the drunk flush she was already sporting. “Calum,” she drew out. He gazed at her, because if there were any stars in LA, it would most definitely be her. 

“What?”

Y/N shakes her head softly. “Nothing. I just wanted to say your name.”

[team-orders]

“my favorite thing is falling asleep next to you.” with Michael Perry?🥺 no I haven’t watched the film yet but I know that I love him

been struggling a bit with putting Michael on the page the past few months but I saw you weren't feeling so great, so I wanted to dust off this prompt for you 👀

this one’s 868 words, gender-neutral reader, big hurt/comfort energy

——

There’s a bleary, dreamlike sort of quality to being awake in the wee hours of the morning, as though you might stir in the light of day and realize that all your memories of that sleepy time were actually just a figment of your imagination. Time races and lags all at once, so that it’s all too easy to lose any sense of how long you’ve been awake. It’s all too easy to feel as though you will be stuck in a purgatory of early morning sleeplessness for the rest of eternity.

Now, you toss and turn through that sleeplessness while Michael snores softly at your side, and at that bleary, dreamlike hour, it’s arresting, just how isolated you somehow feel.

Surely you shouldn’t feel so isolated, not when all you need do is reach out and feel him solid and warm under your fingers. It should be easy enough for you to roll over, lean close, tuck your face into his neck, and drift off.

You tried that, though, when you first awoke; he shifted slightly under your touch, moving closer in his sleep, and you expected to be out like a light.

Except then your mind was racing and your breath couldn’t seem to settle firmly into your chest until, remorsefully, you pulled away out of concern that you might wake him.

You still feel that you might wake him, even now that you’ve put a little bit of distance between you. And maybe it’s because of that worry, or maybe it’s because you’re just desperate to wrench yourself from your sleepless limbo. But you take in a slow breath and roll out of bed, displacing the covers as little as possible on the way.

There’s a blanket folded and draped over the back of the sofa, and you unravel and pull it over yourself mechanically while you tuck yourself against one of the arm rests—making yourself small.

But you’ve hardly been out there -- not even long enough to decide whether you will try to turn the TV on low and try to fall asleep that way -- before the floorboards creek and Michael appears in the doorway, blinking at you with bleary eyes as he leans an arm against the wall above his head. “Wha’s goin’ on, babe?”

His voice is low and husky and a rush of warmth courses over you immediately, even though you also immediately breathe, “I’m sorry, I was trying not to wake you.”

“’S okay.” Michael pads into the room, hesitating for a moment at the sofa as though he can’t sort out precisely how close to settle in near you. He lands somewhere in the middle, pulling one of his legs up beneath him and facing you, even though you continue to mostly look forward. “Bad night?”

Wordlessly, you nod.

You don’t make it all the way our here very often at all, so the bad night feels pretty obvious, but you chance a glance his way and feel a corner of your mouth quirk up at the pleasure of him asking you, anyway.

“Thinking you might sleep out here, then?”

“Maybe,” you murmur. Running a finger over his pajama-covered leg, you concede, “I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.”

Michael hums, digesting this for a moment before settling his hand over yours. “Maybe I could join you.”

The suggestion feels so foolish that you actually laugh; from the corner of your eye, you see that he smiles with pleasure at drawing a laugh from you. “You always complain about the bad sleep you get out here when you accidentally take a nap by yourself. I doubt it’d be any better with me here, too.”

“Nah, I don’t think that’s true.”

You look up and really meet his eye for the first time since he sat down. “Really.” It is a statement, not a question.

But then he shakes his head and murmurs, “Because my favorite thing is falling asleep next to you,” and you forget how to breathe, for a moment or two.

Part of you is skeptical. Part of you is certain that you will both wake up sore and grumpy in the morning.

The other part of you is weighed down on the sofa by a heavy sort of fatigue and a desperation to hold him close—feel him holding you.

“If you’re sure,” you allow. Your voice comes out barely above a whisper.

Michael makes short work of showing you precisely how sure he is, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw as he pulls you close.

Before guiding you to recline with him across the cushions, he grabs the TV remote, tucking it into your hand. “Just in case,” he says, as though it is a tender secret that the two of you are sharing.

You don’t need to turn the TV on, not this morning. You feel Michael pressed flush between your back and the back of the sofa, his breath soft and warm across your neck as he starts to doze... And it would be an exaggeration, to say that it lulls you to sleep at once.

But you are lulled.

Perhaps your favorite thing is falling asleep next to him, too.

[luminouspoes]

3 sentence Sunday: Poe and “dream”?🤍

You wake up slowly to the feeling of kisses pressed reverently against your jawline, a familiar hum of a song murmured against your skin; you peer open an eye and find Poe looking up at you with soft eyes, his curls tousled even more than usual from a good night’s sleep. 

“What is it?” You murmur, voice still groggy with sleep. He’s looking at you like he might look at the D’Qar night sky or the map to Skywalker: full of wonder and awe, and you can’t fathom why at this hour.

“You’re just....a dream,” Poe says, sliding up to nuzzle your noses together, before slanting his lips down against yours for the briefest kiss before adding, “You’re my dream.”

[galaxy-of-stories]

Creator Tag Game!

rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

I was tagged by the lovely @starryeyedstories and I tag (no pressure) @spider-starry and @twomoonstwosuns and anyone else who wants to do this!! 

1 - Fueled By Fire  - This.. this kind of started as a fuck you to the writers of Station 19 because they pissed me off big time with the characters they killed off, but I also really liked the idea of writing Poe Dameron as a firefighter. This was by far not the first Poe Dameron story I had written, but it was still a huge first for me and a story I will hold close to my heart because it was the first story I have ever actually completed. It was also the first story that I had actually researched so many things for, such as firefighter lingo and techniques/tactics used in different kinds of firefighting. I also had to research a firefighter’s last call, search and rescue vehicles, chain of command, wildland firefighting, defensive tactics, potential injuries a firefighter could sustain, and so many more things. I poured so much of my heart into it. It was also to bring awareness to the fact that our First Responders see so much shit every day, and I hope I did the job justice with my portrayal. Sparks & Embers will be just as big for me, when I get to write on it more than I have.  2 - Over & Over - This story started out as a one-shot. Can you believe that? I just kept going back to the story and yearning to add more to it. Keep telling their story. So I did, thanks to the encouragement of @spider-starry, who has been one of the biggest supporters of the series (not saying anyone else hasn’t, but y’all can seriously thank her for giving me the boost I needed to write it). And also it may have inspired something else that might be coming in the next few months, we’ll have to see. 

3 - Amor al Revés - I can’t believe the amount of love this story got. @wowjeena sent in the request and I totally let myself get carried away with the idea of an arranged marriage for the sake of helping a cause. I was also going through some shit when I wrote this, so a lot of that came out through the character Darryn, and if anybody wants to know about that, I’ll explain. I have no shame. It also contains my favorite scene I wrote this year, of Poe teaching reader how to properly shoot a blaster. 

4 - Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story - Picture this: I had just watched Hamilton for the 4th time, and was struck by the sudden thought of this song set to some random moments (and moments we don’t see) from The Rise of Skywalker. So I sat down and started writing what might have been Poe’s thought process after winning the war against the First Order. Thinking about the people. Thinking about the places they had been, the people they had recruited, the battles. The legacies. And then I couldn’t stop, so the scene on Yavin IV happened. FORGIVE ME. 

5 - Death Valley - I don’t even really know what to say about this one. It happened. I’m proud it did, even though I was listening to Death Valley again the other day and REALLY want to write another one with a different concept because a lyric in there really spoke to me for some reason. However. This one was WHOOF.