Beloved Sandworm Of The Desert

Call me Star! (30s, she/they) / Queer 🏳️‍🌈 / I'm a writer! AO3: starlight_searches / Reblogging Wonderful Writers @starlightreadings / Requests: always open!

[starlightsearches]

Starlightsearches Masterlist

📼✨Mixtape Milestone Masterlist ✨📼

The Riddler x Reader Masterlist

Eddie Munson x Reader Masterlist

Kylo Ren x Reader Masterlist

Armitage Hux x Reader Masterlist

Miscellaneous Characters

(request rules are below the cut)

Request Rules (Requests are open):

1. I won’t write about anything related to self harm or romantic age gaps involving a minor. I try as often as possible to work with the requests that I receive, but occasionally I will refuse or modify a request if I feel like I am not capable of writing it properly. Please know that this is not a critique of those requests, it is about me understanding my limits and capabilities as a writer.

2. I write for fun in my free-time, please don’t demand updates.

3. If you’d like to request a continuation of a oneshot that I have written, I would appreciate it if you could give me something to work with, like a specific situation or event you would like to see. I am willing to continue most of my stories, it just might take a little longer while I plot the next steps in the story.

Characters I Write For:

Stranger Things

Eddie Munson

Steve Harrington

Robin Buckley

Jim Hopper

Star Wars Light Side (Sequel Trilogy):

Finn

Poe Dameron

Rey

Rose Tico

Star Wars Dark Side (Sequel Trilogy):

Kylo Ren

Armitage Hux

Captain Phasma

The Mandalorian:

Din Djarin

Daniel Brühl Characters:

Laszlo Kreizler (The Alienist)

Adam Driver Characters:

Clyde Logan (Logan Lucky)

Marvel Characters:

Baron Helmut Zemo (TFAWS)

Sam Wilson (TFAWS)

Triple Frontier

Ben Miller

Will Miller

Frankie Morales

[yellow-cat]

abandon shame. theres more interesting emotions to be felt

[yellow-cat]

unless its getting you off. in that case keep going

[stealingpotatoes]

you’ve seen project Hail Mary???? Oh my gosh I love Rocky in your style!!!

well now i just havee to draw more rocky in my style

(links // tip jar!)

[slimegargoyle]

guys you gotta stop thinking of women in their 30s as elderly it’s just misogyny

[courtesyname]

you also gotta stop thinking about actual elderly women as lesser human beings. Youth is not a measure of one’s worth.

[galileosballs]

Also, please do not listen to how people talk about cover letters on this site. Cover letters are important, and in many industries you can be damn sure they'll be read. And no, they're not 'fanfic about working in your office', or just re-stating the resume contents in a fancier guise. If you treat them like that, then of course they're not doing much for you. That makes you sound like a syncophantic windbag, and it's not doing anything else to help.

I was trained in the dark arts of the cover letter by my mother, who is a hiring manager. And her training has paid off: I've been consistently told my cover letters are excellent. Let me pass on the wisdom.

The job of a cover letter is to give a prospective employer strictly more information than is on the resume. This is where you take the resume contents and put them into context. You look at the job requirements (you are looking at the job requirements before applying, right?) and look at your resume and ask the question (in your head) "why would a person think this candidate would be good for this job?" and your cover letter is the answer to that question. If you don't answer that question, the hiring manager is going to have to do it themselves, and you have way more information to work with than they do.

This is especially important if you're moving from one industry to another, because then the relevant connections aren't obvious. It's also very important if you're overqualified, because then you can use the letter to say "I know it looks like this job would be too entry-level for me, but I'm interested to pursue it for reasons x, y, and z". You can also use this space to explain away something that might otherwise be disqualifying, like job-hopping or a long break in employment. The tone to strike here is always matter-of-fact and constrained to topic - don't go into detail about health stuff or personal tragedy, just tell them what they need to hear: that this period of your resume was affected by [bad thing] but that it's now in the past and you're looking forward to the next chapter. Remember, one of the things they're trying to learn is whether you'd be content in this role, or whether you'd be miserable and leave after 2 months, which would force them to do all the work of hiring again. You're trying to establish that you will fit right in and not cause problems. Knowing what drew you to this job in particular (and don't just say 'money', that's true for everyone) helps with that.

And the other mistake? Everyone writes cover letters that are too long. One page is fine. Two is the absolute maximum, and that's if you have a lot of specific things to say. It's a waste of your time and theirs to pad it out with fluff. Of my two most recent successful cover letters (i.e. jobs for which I was interviewed) one was 390 words and the other was 550. That's the length of this post. How long did it take me to write this post? About 15 minutes to write, 5 to proof and edit. That's how long you should be spending on a cover letter, maximum.

[cloudyfacewithjam]

[starlightsearches]

can we get 3 (dry humping) from that prompt list with hux but could you make it marriage au please? it's okay if not I just wanna see it 👀

Adore You

i would like to see it, too, bestie 🙂‍↕️ i hope you enjoy 💖

(gotta shout out @charlottesbookclub as well since i stole the thing about dressing to match hux's eyes from her because the idea is tooooo delicious to me. hope that's okay, charlotte uwu)

AN: 18+ onlyyyyyy, dry humping (obviously), pre-mature ejaculation 🥰, fingering, hux is feeling a lot of shame, and i think that is it!! comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated, my loves!

kink prompt list

Armitage thought he would be tired of this by now.

Shame pools in the hollow of his throat, recognizing the casual cruelty in it, but that doesn't steal the truth from the statement. Some part of him had believed, had hoped, even, these desires would wane once sated—that, at some point, he would no longer feel so starved of you, for the brush of your lips against his, the caress of your fingers at his neck.

But this is a hunger that has him clinging to the bunched fabric of your skirt with the kind of grip he'd normally reserve for the hilt of a blade, so transparently desperate in his attempts to keep you close.

You sigh at his lips, your breath almost chill compared to his feverish skin. At the fear of your absence, Armitage slips a hand from where it rests at your hip, encircling your waist until he feels the press of your chest against his own.

And in response, you shift more fully into his lap, kissing him deeper than before, your thumb brushing over the expanse of his cheek. If a there will be a day when Armitage stops craving the feeling, he cannot bear to think of it. He's becoming more and more certain that this need will be insatiable long after he meets his grave.

The shape of you is distorted by the layers of fabric between his body and yours, but the pressure is enough to bring a gasp to his lips when he feels your hips meet his, the welcome weight of your body against his quickly-stiffening cock.

There's a little hesitation, and the smile that comes after burns like a brand against his cheek as your kisses drift further from his mouth, across the contours of his jaw to the space just below his ear.

The trace of your tongue along the edge of his earlobe, the sound of his name, your voice thick with suggestion. Armitage cannot help himself.

His hips shift upward without any command, and a groan he can't suppress forces its way between his teeth at the feeling of it, at the friction, even through the layers of your skirts, the drag of his uniform.

Your ribs flex under his palm with a heavy gasp, stunned maybe, at his boldness. And yet it cannot shame him out of the subtle pull at your hip, encouraging you to follow suit, to feel the effect you have on him.

You sit back as much as he'll allow you, meeting his gaze, eyes wide for a moment before your lids flutter closed, hummed moans breaking from your lips in time with the movement of your bodies, the warmth of your cunt still tangible to him as the shifting of your hips increases in tempo, urgent, hungry.

Armitage has let himself forget again—that you enjoy this. Being with him. Feeling him.

And so your husband makes no apology as he allows the hand at your hip to drift upwards over the silken bodice of your dress, thumb just brushing over the stiff peak of your nipple. The moan that breaks through your lips carries the sound of his name.

Oh, no. Armitage can feel his pulse throbbing, insistent, through his dick, and the spike of fear in the front of his mind cannot stop the end that is quickly approaching.

"Sh-should we—" Armitage can hardly get the words out, and you show no interest in helping him, your lips back at his neck, the drag of your cunt right where he needs you most and where he cannot stand to feel you as his toes curl in his boots, thighs aching with this final attempt to restrain himself, if you would only give him a moment, he could—

Fuck. Too late now.

Armitage groans, low and deep, breath feathering through the soft hairs by your ear as the embers of his release course through him. Before the pleasure has even subsided, humiliation follows. He would disappear if he could manage it, if you were not still perched in his lap, frozen, with your fingers carding through his hair.

"Armitage?" He hears the question hidden in the way you say his name, and he cannot bear the weight of it, cannot bear to meet your eyes, burying his face in the palms of his hands—a weak attempt to hide from you, with the cum-soaked fabric of his trousers pressed against your thighs.

You try again, repeating his name, softer this time, your fingers slipping into the space between the edge of his gloves and the sleeve of his uniform, gentle, as you tug his hands into your lap.

Stars, he cannot face this—the little dip in your brow as you watch him, those curious eyes and your flushed lips, waiting, still, for him to explain to you how imbecilic he has been, how selfish.

"My apologies," Hux just manages to spit out the words as his fingers curl into fists, "I hadn't meant for that to- to happen."

He watches you, anxiety tugging at his every nerve, taking in the little twitch at the bridge your nose as you process his words. And when the smile begins to form, Armitage attempts weakly to avoid your gaze, but you will not allow it.

"Really?"

You release your grip on him, let one of your hands press into his chest, traveling upward until you take hold of his jaw, stealing the breath from his lungs, and there's no shadow of disappointment in the path of your fingers, no trace of reproach as you lean closer, your lips hovering just out of reach of his own.

"Because of me?" you whisper, and you must find your answer written in his red-rimmed eyes and pathetic expression, because your smile only grows wider. Armitage lets his head fall back against the couch cushion, eyes shut tight to you and your indefatigable ability to ignore even the most glaring of his faults.

"I had hoped to—" You must already know, of course, heard those whispered words—inside you, please—every time you had granted him the privilege to feel you beneath him, beside him, above him. Armitage stalls, at a loss. He doesn't have the language to map the caverns of his disgrace for you, to make you understand that it was his own lack of restraint, his weakness that had caused this.

You deserve better, but he can’t make you see it. Even if he could, his hunger for you would never let him.

And yet you are undeterred, once again taking his wrist in your grip, guiding Armitage's hand beneath the sea-foam ripples of your skirts, (like your eyes, you had said, when he complimented the color, the words that had started this whole mess), pressing him nearer and nearer to the apex of your thighs until his fingers just brush the dampened lace that covers your cunt.

"I think we'll manage," you whisper, your wet lips pressed up against his ear, and for a moment Armitage forgets those wells of shame surging inside him, pressing at your core until he hears you gasp, stroking his fingers along the soft valleys of your body.

"And you're not—" he shouldn't even speak of it, shouldn't give the idea any weight in your mind, and yet his fear will not allow him to let those insecurities fester inside him, "disappointed?"

Your brows pull together, confused, but only for a moment before pleasure overtakes it, soft moans spilling from between your lips, your fingers tightening their grip at his shoulder as he pets at your folds.

"Armitage,” you whisper his name, and he wants to drown in the depths of it, “you must know that I had never hoped for anything like this. I never thought I'd know what it feels like to be so—"

Armitage cannot help the terror that grips his lungs at the thought you might say it—the word that has been on the tip of his tongue from the beginning, the word that could tear him apart to hear it in the open now, as vulnerable as he feels, as undeserving as he is.

"Admired?" he supplies, before you can complete your thought, and his suggestion brings a laugh to your lips that quickly dissolves into a sigh as Armitage shifts the wet fabric out of his way, tracing your slit with his leather-clad fingers.

You shake your head as your eyes roll back at the feeling of him, at the pleasure he can bring.

"I've been admired more than enough," you respond, and even with his fingers thrusting in and out of your pulsing cunt, Armitage does his best to smother a spark of jealousy.

It's quelled quickly enough—you press your forehead against his own, his breaths coming almost as hard and fast as yours, and he knows you're close, the heel of his hand grinding insistently against your clit.

He tastes your words sooner than he hears them with the way you whisper against his parted lips.

"You've shown me what it's like to be adored."

Oh. The truth of it rings through his body, through his fingers as he works at your core and his chest where it meets yours and the flush of his cheeks. Armitage adores you, his wife, the singular joy his blood-stained hands and repugnant soul will ever be allowed.

Hux kisses you, relishes the feeling of the word on your lips, relishes the grip of your cunt around his fingers as he brings you again to the peak of your pleasure. He'll demonstrate that adoration over and over and over again—as many times as you'll allow.

[kropotkindersurprise]

[mysillycomics]/[esnupi.core]

[syzygytailor]

Ren: Hux, put the gun down.

*Hux cocks the gun*

Hux: I’m going to put you down, bitch.

[saintfelina]

*pervert voice* okay so im the princess and youre the knight sworn to protect me

[elbiotipo]

we don't hate J.J. Abrams enough

[elbiotipo]

Branson Reese, whoever you are, I keep your words in my heart all the time.

[kaijuerotica]

"branson reese, whoever you are" put some respect on the smooth sharks one fear man's name

[anarchistmemedistro]

we should learn to speak in a language that rich people who don't dream can't comprehend

[helsinore]

gxrl i do not care if being fat “makes you hot” or not. i do not care. you need to eat so you can experience life as a full fucking person. you are a whole ass person bitch, not an entity that can solely be reduced to being desirable as an object!!! you have other concerns or fulfillment in life besides ensuring how fuckable you are!!! eat your damn food!!!!

[helixicon]

Annihilation comes in many forms.

It eclipses; a fruitless contingency.

Yours just happens to be him.

Been trying to work again on my older art style but man have i been rusty 🫠 despise rendering to my core sometimes ong i gotta practice more on it.

Anyway pov you threatened Millicent/praised his father:

[bittertarinetea]

[space-gingers]

WIP. something something blood something something wine. guys im actually improving

[stealingpotatoes]

got pissed off about how badly star war treated mr finn sequel trilogy and had to draw him and the ST trio a bunch to be normal again

(commission info // tip jar!)

[patterbay]