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⚫ Time Travel Shinpachi x Etsu
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Christmas Drabble
⚫ Time Travel AU Spinoffs
The Tale of Toshizō the Cat -by @sabinasanfanfic
Hijikata’s Aftermath
⚫ Souji Time Travel Prompts
Little Toshi’s Arrival Skipping Class That isn’t your shirt Cupcakes Last Cuddle
⚫Eevee Answers Prompts! (Drabbles)
OkiChi: I told you not to fall in love with me Come Here You look amazing
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anon, i love you. put me up on a podium, and i'll happily yell about this man all day, every day.
Dating Poe Dameron
Poe goddamn Dameron. Whew. Do you think he’s ridiculously handsome? Yes. Do you want him to have his way with you right there in the cramped ass cockpit of his X-wing? Of course. But the cocky pilot’s reputation precedes him, so when he first expresses interest in you, you’re going to blow him off (self-preservation, you know).
But Poe is nothing if not persistent as fuck, especially when it comes to you. You may not think you’re anything special, but Poe sure as hell does, and he’s going to do everything in his power to make sure that you realize that.
He’s the kind of guy that will chase you to the edges of the Outer Rim and back just to prove that he’s serious about how he feels about you.
Your first kiss with Poe is up against a wall in the hangar at a Resistance base. You’re bloody, filthy, and dead on your feet after your last mission. You both barely made it out alive, and you’re tired of acting like the mere thought of losing him doesn’t bring you to your goddamn knees. Poe kisses you like his entire life depends on it, like he has to show you just how fucking crazy he is about you here and now in case this is all just in the heat of the moment.
(It’s not, you’re helplessly drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He’s a more than a little smug about finally winning you over.)
Poe loves like he flies—hard, fast, precise, and he pours his entire soul into it. Being with Poe Dameron is all-consuming.
(You do eventually have sex in the cockpit of his X-wing. It's cramped as hell, it's hot, it's sweaty. You're pretty sure you broke a knob and lever or two. And you're 99% certain the next mechanic that works on it is going to somehow know that you both defiled the fuck out of the starfighter.)
He likes to plan surprise dates where he tells you to hop into your X-wing and just follow him. He takes you to beautiful, uncharted spots on small, insignificant planets that he's found over the years—secret places that he's never shared with anyone else, until you.
Poe never lets you leave without a kiss goodbye and telling you that he loves you.
Poe likes to talk about how he’s going to marry you some day, a thought which both thrills you and frightens you, because your futures are so uncertain when you’re living dangerous lives on the run with the Resistance. So you roll your eyes fondly whenever he says it, too scared to commit out loud to a future that neither of you may have. But Poe knows without a shadow of a doubt that you’ll both live to see the fall of the First Order. He normally wears his mom’s wedding ring on a necklace, and he’s going to propose to you with it eventually. But when he’s flying, he hangs it in the cockpit of his X-wing so it’s always in his line of sight—a constant reminder of what he’s fighting for.
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you’ve given us dating Poe. dating Poe NSFW. jealous Poe.
I speak for the people when I say we need husband Poe headcanons.
Say no more, anon 🧡
Husband Poe Dameron
Poe Dameron x f!reader
When the Resistance returns to Ajan Kloss to celebrate the defeat of the First Order, Poe Dameron can barely contain the shaking of his hands and the frantic beating of his heart as his eyes desperately scan the horizon for the arrival of your X-wing.
After you touch down, you’re hardly able to begin climbing down from the starfighter before Poe’s hands are at your waist, pulling you tightly into his waiting arms. You can’t tell if the salt on your lips is from your tears or his as he kisses you fiercely, joyously, frantically.
There had been far too many close calls during that battle. During every battle. Poe runs his hands up and down your sides, kisses your cheeks, breathes in your familiar scent—if only to give himself further proof that you’ve both truly made it out of this alive once and for all.
And with that realization, he can’t wait another moment. Another second. The words bubble up in his chest and fall from his lips with more conviction than anything he’s ever said in his life. “Marry me.”
You take his hand and drag him into the woods, away from the din of the celebrations, and he says it again and again as he pushes you up against a tree. As he drags his lips along the curve of your jaw. As buttons are tugged and clothing becomes scarce. As he holds you tightly while you come apart.
And when you whisper, “Yes, yes, yes,” against his lips, into his curls, along his collarbone, Poe wants nothing more than to call you his wife now. Always. For the rest of his days.
Poe recites his vows to you later that evening after making love to you again under a canopy of stars. And as you fold yourself into him, fingers laced together, legs tangled, the beating of your heart responding to his in kind, you think that you’d gladly fight a thousand more grueling wars and dangerous, never-ending battles as long as you ended up here with him.
The wedding is planned quickly; it’s an intimate, understated affair. It’s perfect. But admittedly, the day is a blur, because all you can remember is the choked sob that leaves Poe’s lips when you approach the altar (and again when he finally removes his mother’s wedding ring from the chain around his neck and slides it onto your finger).
Poe knows his Rebel pilot mother would have loved you, and he's told you just as much time and time again. In the months after your wedding, you eventually come to him with a surprise. Though Poe's personal belongings dwindled down to few during his time with the Resistance, he's always kept a piece of steel that came from Shara Bey's X-wing with him. When part of it accidentally breaks off one day, the solution hits you like a sack of bricks—you have it made into a ring to replace the nondescript one you'd both hurriedly sought out for him in the days before the wedding. (Poe's absolutely beyond words when you give it to him.)
While you and Poe both are too dedicated and entangled in the Resistance to simply up and disappear in the aftermath of the war, when you're not busy helping with the continued efforts to restore the galaxy, your free time is spent building the home the two of you will eventually settle down in on a lush, quiet moon.
Poe goes out of his way to source the most beautiful, exotic plants to fill your garden with.
After the first time that he brings you home flowers and watches fondly as you prune them and carefully place them in a vase on the kitchen table, he makes a habit of doing it all the time.
The Resistance's starfighter squadrons still remain active, which means Poe takes advantage of every chance he gets to yell over the comms with a whoop, "That's my wife!" any time you pull off any sort of flashy maneuver in your X-wing.
Poe needs to excuse himself for a minute the day that he notices you've carefully painted 'DAMERON' in Aurebesh on the side of your flight helmet.
Poe Dameron has always looked at you like you personally hung every single star in the sky just for him, and even the brightest, most brilliant of suns would be hard pressed to rival the light behind his eyes and blistering heat that ignites in his gut every damn time he remembers that you're his.
Picking out flowers for you is easy for Jake—the obvious choice is roses (and he may or may not buy several bouquets). He explains the metaphor of it all with his lips pressed against the shell of your ear, murmuring about the dichotomy between the velvet-soft petals and the prickly, sharp thorns. Of course they would remind him of you.
(He'll never let you live down the one time you brandished a kitchen knife at him in your underwear whilst he smirked and tossed an apple from your counter into the air, bewildered as to who he was and what the hell he'd done with Marc and Steven.)
Steven Grant
Steven visits the florist three days in a row, hair a wild mess from anxiously running his hands through it as he paces the aisles in search of something to bring home to you. He would have been fine, really, if the chipper employee working the cash register hadn't warily eyed his choice on the first day and launched into an entire manifesto about the meaning behind gifting different types of flowers. In the end, he's at the hardware store grabbing lightbulbs when he spies a small display of tropical houseplants, one of which immediately catches his eye. As he brings it home, he feels a bit smug over the fact that his plant will far outlast whatever Jake and Marc buy for you.
(Jake and Marc internally groan over the fact that they've not only got to keep a goldfish alive, but now the life of a goddamn plant is in jeopardy as well.)
Marc Spector
Marc's grumbling to himself as he stands in the middle of the grocery store with his arms crossed, surveying the array of various bouquets on display, already wrapped and ready to go. He reaches out, about to grab the daisies, but then he finds himself torn between an odd-looking arrangement of white roses that had clearly been tie-dyed. He thinks you might like those, possibly, until he spies something yellow out of the corner of his eye. Whirling, he sees a bucket on the floor with two sunflowers resting in it. A few petals have fallen to the floor off of the one, and the other has begun to get a bit droopy, but he doesn't care. He needs to get you those. He can't make his way over to the check out fast enough.
(He needs to, because the instant he looked at them, his stomach lurched with a fluttering somersault as his mind readily supplied a thought—sunflowers.
Because you were the sun. His bright, radiant, perfect, warm, loving sun.
And he was the moon.)
(For once, Jake didn't even tease him for going soft.)
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