#(ask if you want to trade... usernames?)

[wereallydobevibing]

Too Young | John Price x Reader

I used to post my stories on tiktok under the username @codlover but I figured since tiktok might get banned I should delete that account and post it here. Here’s one of the stories.

Feel free to use my work as a prompt/inspiration. Better yet, feel free to write your ideal part 2 just MAKE SURE YOU CREDIT AND TAG ME.

WARNINGS: Age Gap

“Welcome home, Captain.”

As he falls back in his seat, his gaze lifts to meet yours - his little muse behind a marble counter, his favorite bartender at his favorite bar. 

“That’s John to you, sweetheart,” He says, and he watches with satisfaction as you wordlessly pour out his usual drink without even having to ask what he was having.

You were a young girl, early twenties, working towards your bachelors at the nearest university, but before that, you’d gone to trade school. You were a hard worker; doing hair in the morning, attending classes in the noon, closing the bar at night, studying any minute that was free. 

I’ll breathe when I have everything I want, you told him one night, when he noticed how your shoulders seemed to be heavy with the weight of your profusion of responsibilities. He wished he could help you carry some of them, or at least blow some air into those lungs that seemed to collapse whenever finals came around. 

John admired you – sweet, smart, and focused. He would’ve liked to have you on his Taskforce if that’d been that path that you chose, but, for the sake of flirting, perhaps bartending was the better option. 

He’ll miss you when you graduate and go off to start a new chapter in your life. 

You set the drink down on the counter, pushing it forwards and leaning your weight on your elbows. It was a slow night, but you figured now that John Price was here to pay you his company, time would tick faster than you wanted it to. 

The first hour and a half of his visit is a basic conversation – how was deployment, how does it feel to be home, how long before his next call in? He talks a little about his team – you’ve heard about “Soap” and “Ghost” and “Gaz” many times before, Price only ever allows you to know them by their callsigns, though, for privacy's sake, and only tells you very minor details. But after one or two glasses, Price allows himself to be free of his professional nature. His 141 men know 

“How come you never bring your boys around here, Captain?” 

“John,” You’re leaning so closely, he’s able to flick your nose as he corrects you. Not too hard, but very much playful. “And if I brought my boys around here, they’d never leave. Soap might steal my favorite girl.”

“Your favorite girl is too busy to be stolen, John,” You remind him, and you don’t say I’m too busy trying to give myself to you.  

Closing time comes all too quickly, as you figured it would. On a Monday night, there are generally very few customers, and you’re able to start your side work at exactly eleven o’clock. John sticks around as you clean up and count the register, offering his company. Being that he was such a regular, he even knows where to find the broom and shortens your to-do list by sweeping the floor. 

This is your favorite part, when you lock up the door and begin your walk home with Captain John Price at your side, allowing you to hook your arm through his. Like a gentleman, he’s always happy to walk you home. 

“No boyfriend, yet, [Y/N]?” He says, lighting a cigar, “No one to tell me off for walking so close to their girl?”

You giggle, “No boyfriend. If I did, though, I don’t think you’d be one to be worried about it. Unless it was that guy you mentioned earlier – Soap? Maybe you could introduce us?”

“He’s too much fun, I think,” John sniggered.

“Are you saying I’m too serious?”

“Serious enough, fun enough. Soap is too much fun.”

 “Aww,” You feign a pout, “You don’t want me to like him, do you?”

As you finally approach your apartment door, John lightly shoves you toward it. He pulls the cigar away from his lips, leaning against the wall with a smirk. 

“You can have that one if you want, love,” he says, “Don’t come bothering me when you’re with him, though. Can’t have both.”

“No, I couldn’t,” You agree, you gesture to your apartment, “You won’t let me let you in.”

He hums, watching you unlock and push open the door. You lift your eyes to gaze up at him through your lashes, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips. 

“Come have a glass with me, John, I can bartend for you here, too.”

The back of his hand reached out, stroking the subtle skin of your cheek. He would love to come inside and know the structure of your home, and the decorations that would be a complimentary extension of your personality. When it came to you, he was Pandora and you were his box. 

You were a beautiful girl, and the thought of having your company outside of your work hours was enticing. He wanted to know you like the back of his own hand, he wanted to see what was inside this box, but John knew better than to cross this line – that line being your doorway. 

Oh, how he wished he was at least ten years younger. 

“You know I can only go so far with you, love,” He says, taking another draw from his cigar. “Your doormat is the limit.”

It’s not the first time you heard that, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. As mentioned earlier, you were an ambitious girl; you were often berated in your early childhood by your mother for trying to get away with the same stuff over and over and over again until you finally learned the secret to getting away with your innocent little crimes successfully.

As you said once before, you’ll breathe when you have everything you ever wanted. 

Blaze

0 notes

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Height?” The officer taps the nib on his notepad. 

“Ugh, tall. Er,” you keep your hand on your head. It still throbs. “Um, six foot something? He had to be bigger.” 

“Right,” he squints. “Blond, blue eyes, and a scar. Dressed in all black...” he reads it over. “And he didn’t say anything?” 

“No, sir, I told you. Did you check with security? There's cameras--” 

“Nothing there. Checked all the footage. Some glitch. Guy’s not sure. Not his problem, I guess. Paid minimum wage to sit in a room,” he scoffs. “We can file the report but we can’t do much else. No footage, no proof--” 

“No proof? Look at my head. He ripped my hair out!” You whine. 

“Yeah, well, I’ve seen worse. Should count yourself lucky he left you alive,” he says. 

You shake your head and drop your arm, “uh... thanks, I guess.” 

“Look,” he exhales. “I really don’t have much to go on but this guy sniffs around again, call. File another report.” 

“Right,” you agree glumly. “Thank you, officer.” 

He shrugs, “have a good night. You want me to stick around while you lock up.” 

“It’s fine, I wouldn’t want to waste any more of your time.” 

You sniff and turn around. You’re not surprised by his indifference or his answers. You have friends who had men pounding on their doors and the same reaction. You saw police arresting drunk girls instead of the guys who cornered them in the bathroom. There isn’t much anyone can do, it seems. Especially not you. 

You go through the closing list. You know it by rote but that night, you’re uncertain. You check the clipboard that hangs behind the counter. You’re fractured. The whole world feels like it’s strewn before you. Nothing fits together. You feel like you’re disconnected from your own body. 

God, your head hurts. 

You stop and open up the front camera on your phone. You look at the bald patch again. Near the back. You can’t really see it head on but it’s there. Or not. He just... did that? He took a part of you. 

You close your phone and put it in your pocket. You pull on your jacket and hike your bag onto your shoulders. As you do, the Pom Pom falls onto the floor. You tossed it on top but didn’t hook it on. You pick it up, quivering. That man... did he find it or take it? 

You squeeze it and grab the keys from the hook. You pull the gate across the store front and lock it. You turn to face the empty mall. 

The idea of going out into the dark and waiting for the bus is the same as scaling a mountain with your bare hands. You make yourself move. The longer you wait, the more likely you’ll miss it.  

Your steps echo around you. You flinch and glance over your shoulders, back and forth, even spinning to make sure you’re alone. 

How are you supposed to do this? After what he did to you. Did he just see you on the bus and decide to mess with you? How did he track you to the store? You had your jacket on, he couldn’t see your name tag or uniform. You didn’t have your badge out. 

You can’t figure any of it out. Would it matter if you could. 

You slow down as you approach the doors. You look out and see the bright signs for the businesses housed in the mall and the other plazas close by, headlights shining along the street. You push through the first door and stand in the vestibule. 

You still have the fluffy pom pom in your hand. You unhook your bag from one shoulder and hook it on. You trade the store keys for your house keys and poke one out between your fingers. You’re on your own. 

You walk out into the night. You don’t stop. You almost jog across the lot out to the bus stop by the road. You duck into the shelter, the lights keeping you safe in their glow. Or so you hope. 

The bus pulls up only a few minutes after. Your relief flows out of your chest as you scan your pass. You find a seat at the back and sit. You want to see everyone else. 

The tires grind the gravel and veer back onto the road. They slow again at the next stop around the corner. You watch the passenger turn and you know him in an instant. He stalks down the center of the bus and climbs the steps up to the back level. He does just as he did that morning. 

He sits beside you. You can’t move or speak. You can’t believe it. 

He must know that no one else cares. He’s counting on it. You’re breathless as you shake, your ribs wracked as adrenaline burns through you. 

“Why?” You quaver weakly. He doesn’t answer. You lean away from him and touch your head, grazing your tender scalp. “Please, why me?”  

Still nothing. 

“Why are you doing this?” You whimper. 

He closes his eyes and lifts his chin. His hand moves from his leg onto yours and he squeezes. You tremble as his fingertips dig into your flesh. 

“Please, stop!” You cry out and slap his hand. 

No reaction. What is wrong with him? You wriggle and look at your other hand; the key poking out from your fist. You bring it down towards his hand but he’s fast. He retracts his touch and the key sinks into your thigh muscle. You screech, and he reaches across to tug the cord. 

“What’s going on back there?” The driver hollers back as he stops. 

The man stands and marches away. He doesn’t answer the driver or look back. He steps off the bus and you watch him through the window. He almost fades into the dark as he delves into the shadows of the buildings.  

“Knock it off,” the driver warns as he puts his foot on the pedal. 

You puff between your teeth and look around at the other passengers; deafened by headphones and ear buds, engrossed in their screens and pages. There’s at least ten other riders yet you’re all alone. 

You look down. You quaking as you let go of the key and it sticks out of your leg. You cringe and grasp it as tight as you can. You hold your breath as you rip it out. Argh.  

That officer was right. You’re lucky he didn’t do worse. 

[alphajocklover]

Genie Glory the Game

(A [Very Late] Trade with @bigwishes. I hope you like it!) 43 followers. Rich Donaldson, also known as TF2Twink on Twitch, had 43 followers.Rich had been streaming for over 3 years now and only had 43 followers. 43 measly followers. It made him feel pathetic. It made him feel like he was useless. Yet at the same time, Rich was incredibly grateful for every one of those followers. 

Rich Donaldson had wanted to become a gaming streamer since he was a kid. It hadn’t really been a real thing until he was a teen, and most people thought he was crazy for thinking he could make money that way. Some people doubted it was a real job, some thought it was too competitive, some thought it was just a dumb idea in general. No matter what the reason, everyone in Rich’s life agreed that Rich wasn’t going to make it as a streamer. Especially his hyper religious, video game hating parents. Still Rich refused to give up. He knew it would be hard, maybe impossible, but he was passionate and felt like he had to follow his dream. That was what everyone in the movies did after all. Rich moved out, cut contact with his parents, went into debt buying the best streaming gear he could… and immediately regretted it. Rich didn’t mind losing contact with his parents. They had never been the most loving people, so he hadn’t really lost much. Except things weren’t working out like they did in the movies. Rich wasn’t making it, and worse than that he wasn’t getting any better at streaming. He was good at the games, so he knew that wasn’t the issue. The issue was… he was incredibly, painfully, horribly shy. Rich didn’t have the confidence that a streamer needed. He could barely get a word out during the stream without starting to awkwardly ramble, and even when he did he came off as awkward and weird. He wasn’t just unconfident, he was a downright nervous wreck. Still he didn’t give up. He couldn’t after everything he had thrown away to get this chance… all the sleepless nights working part time jobs to stay above water… he was in too deep. So he kept going “Hey chat! S-so t-today…” Rich took a deep breath, trying his best not to ramble “T-today I’m going to be playing a new game. I-it’s not very well known, but i-it looked cool and I’ve heard a lot of people are playing it… S-so let's get into ‘Genie Glory the Game!” Rich said, trying to be excited. Barely anyone was watching, and it was getting hard to pretend he wasn’t incredibly depressed, but he kept smiling. Genie Glory was a pretty simple game with a simple premise that had been baffling gamers for months. It was a pretty simple idea based on a classic scenario. You play a random guy who has discovered a genie’s lamp and now has 3 wishes. You make a wish by typing it into the computer, and the genie grants the wish, but usually in some twisted way that is accompanied by a pixelated animation of the player's fate. The goal is to get through all 3 wishes alive. What made the game so popular was that no one had beat it yet. Whatever AI the game used was incredibly clever and strangely creative, and to make it even more difficult, the game only allowed you to play it once. Popular streamers, actually geniuses, and even philosophers hadn’t been able to beat the game, so Rich knew beating it would make him famous.

“Ok chat. I-it’s time for our first wish… And I’m taking suggestions…” Rich said. Rich wanted to beat the game, but… he wasn’t sure how to beat this game, so he’d take all the help he could get. A few suggestions actually came across the screen ‘BasedBro69: Wish for your muscles to grow!’

‘GenieGay33: No way, that's the way to open ended! The Genie will make him grow until he pops or something’

‘MissTaken27: That's such a basic idea. Might as well ask him to wish to be a frat boy or something.’

Rich laughed at this. He knew most of his followers' usernames by heart, but BasedBro69 was new. Still the conversation he had started was kind of funny, and he figured… why not? “Ok then, why not! Lets make me a frat boy!” He said, snickering as he typed in his computer. He tried to be as specific as possible to avoid the spell being twisted “‘I wish I was an attractive, stereotypical frat boy.”

Rich laughed as he watched the pixelated version of himself grow muscular, his clothing changing to a tank top and backwards cap. He watched as the other version of him rushed a frat. Rich was certain something would go wrong, afterall he knew from first hand experience that hazing could get fucking intense, but surprisingly his character survived and got through the first wish without any incident. Rich grinned widely. Most people never even made it through the first wish, but he, a relative nobody, had managed! He stood up straighter as he watched people start to flood into the stream. He checked the chat happily. ‘GenieMan33: He actually made it with that wish? I’ll never understand this game, but good for you!’ ‘MisterRichD27: Kind of an ironic wish considering you are a frat boy. No offense.’ ‘BasedBro69: I fucking knew that would work bro! You can do this!’

Rich blushed slightly at MisterRichD27’s comment, and his flirty name. While he didn’t tend to think of himself that way, he was technically a frat boy. He had joined one after heading to college in the hopes of finding some friends. His frat brothers could be… kind of obnoxious, and very stereotypical, but they had helped him come out of his shell somewhat and even get in shape. He was still fairly shy, but he never would have gotten this far in college or with his streaming if it wasn’t for them. He chuckled at the chat, slightly embarrassed “I’ll admit, that was a weird wish, but hey, it worked so who cares!” Rich said cheerily “Ok, so what's the next wish going to be? I’m trusting you on this chat!” Rich said with what he hoped was a charming wink. ‘GenieMan33: Maybe something basic like money? That doesn’t usually work but you seem to be on a hot streak.’

‘BasedBro69: No way bro. He only gets to play once. Wish for something like fucking confidence or something. Something fun!’

‘MisterRichD27: IDK, Basedbro69 was right last time. Maybe you should wish for confidence?’ Rich shrugged. He could think up even more ways that this could go wrong, but this game had never seemed to work on logic in any of the videos he watched to prepare for this. So with a grin, he typed in his second wish “I wish I had the kind of cocky confidence that ladies love.” he said with a chuckle. He hoped it would be obvious that it was a joke, since his Twitch username, FortnightOtter44, made it obvious he was gay. He watched as the little version of him grew a big head, quite literally. Rich was worried this was leading to some type of game over, but his head deflated, his muscles grew, and a bunch of pixelated girls in bikinis ran up to the pixelated him. Rich grinned wide and tried not to cuss in celebration, not wanting to get demonetized (again). He had fucking done it! He fucking got past wish 2! He smirked as he watched the chat explode as more people tuned in ‘GenieStud33: Fuck yeah! RDH fucking did it! Knew you had it in you bro!’

‘MissRichD27: RDH is the best gamer ever! And the hottest! DM me!’

BasedBro69: HELL YEAH! You can do this bro!’ Rich, known as RDH to his fans, or RichDaHunk on Twitch, smirked, as he saw the comments roll in. He fucking knew he could get this game. He may not have been the most popular streamer on twitch, but he was a fucking good gamer and a total stud. He flexed his biceps, getting the chat riled up again in a frenzy of lust and admiration. Rich didn’t bother to look at the chat this time. He gave a smarmy, cocky smirk at the camera “I know what to put in next bros. I’m gonna wish for something fucking inevitable.” he said cockily.

He quickly typed in “I wish I was the most popular gaming streamer on Twitch”, and watched with a practiced cool confidence as the pixelated version of him gained millions of followers. The chat exploded with awe and wonder as what Rich had always known was going to happen, happened. He had won the game. He flexed his muscles for the stream, celebrating with his 43 million followers. He didn’t understand why they were all shocked. He was the coolest, hottest, douchiest gamer on twitch. Of course he fucking won!

[cieloclercs]

what would you say (if i told you i love you)? — charles leclerc

PART: 1/?

summary. in which childhood best friends blur the lines between what they’ve always known, and something more

warnings. swearing, reader and charles are oblivious idiots but they’re cute so it’s ok, ending is annoyingly abrupt (sorry)

pairings. charles leclerc x artsy!reader

face claim. tara michelle

author’s note: so this is a multi-part social media fic inspired by this ask that i’ve been working on for a while. as always, all media and pictures used in this belongs to the original creators. hope you guys enjoy! ps, all i really know about art is what i learned in my gcse class (and my teacher was awful) so if i use any incorrect terminology at any point in this series i’m so sorry! i’m trying my best 🫶

liked by pierregasly and 11,386 others

yourusername monaco summer 🐚🌊🦋☁️

view all comments…

yourfriend prettiest ever 🥹

yourusername oh hush you 🤭

username girl your figure 😮

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charles_leclerc no photo credits? 😃

yourusername 🙄🙄 photo creds to char ig

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yourusername aww thank you arth 🥰

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username she’s his childhood best friend! they’ve known each other since they were five 🫶

username i firmly believe y/n y/l/n is a goddess not a human being

*charles_leclerc liked this comment

username CHARLES WHAT THE FUCK???

liked by carlossainz55 and 2,376,926 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc opening day for y/n’s latest exhibition, ‘flow’! je suis très fière de toi, mon artiste. ne jamais cesser de rêver 🌊 / beyond proud of you, my artist. never stop dreaming

view all comments…

username now if this isn’t obsessed boyfriend behaviour then i don’t know what is

yourusername aww charlie 🥹 merci de m'avoir soutenu, je vous en serai toujours reconnaissant / thank you for supporting me, i’m forever grateful

charles_leclerc toujours

username and they say they’re just friends?? THIS IS NOT FRIEND BEHAVIOUR

username omg these paintings are so beautiful! what’s the exhibition about?

charles_leclerc it’s a study of water and the ocean!

username they way he’s answering questions about y/n’s own exhibition for her 😭 babes ur not subtle x

username she’s so talented wtf

*charles_leclerc liked this comment

leclerc_pascale Incroyable 😍

yourusername merci, maman 🥰

username SHE CALLS PASCALE MAMAN OH MY GOD???

liked by joris_trouche and 17,936 others

yourusername summer break, week one ✅

view all comments…

username everyone say ‘thank you y/n’ for feeding us the soft charles content 🥹

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joris_trouche elvis is the star of this dump

yourusername i’ll let him claw you again

joris_trouche PLEASE DONT

charles_leclerc woah who’s that handsome guy in slide 2? 😏

yourusername you wouldn’t know him he’s kind of annoying x

charles_leclerc ouch

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username three guesses who took the pictures of y/n

username hmm…joris? 🤔

username try again

username elvis 🤨

username close!! but not quite

username is it maybe…charles?!

*charles_leclerc liked this comment

username bingo!!

username trade lives with me please 😫

charles_leclerc i hope summer never ends

yourusername you and me both

username he doesn’t want to go back to the sf-23 and ferrari fucking up his race every week 😔

*yourusername liked this comment

username LMAO Y/N LIKED

username she’s just as sick of ferrari’s shit as we are

joris_trouche everyone ignoring the fact that i’m also in this dump as well !!!

charles_leclerc mate you’re not even looking at the camera

username GAHAHAHA CHARLES

➜ part 2

[imgeekgirlfan]

The Curse of Cassandra [EP : VII]

Read in Ao3 : here

Pairings: ��Qimir x f!reader(SEA Reader)  [The Acolyte]

Content Rating : Mature 18+  Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning (AT YOUR OWN RISK)

tags/themes : Alternate Universe - Dune & Star wars, Partners in Crime, Strangers to Lovers

Summary: You start a new life on the planet Olega with the man you love. If your life were a novel, this would be the happy ending. But fate never lets you rest. One day, you find yourself facing three unfamiliar Jedi, and one of them, a Jedi Knight named Yord, captures your attention in an inexplicable way.

Status: work in progress (This is a long fanfic that will be about 10+ chapters.)

A/N : Since there are more chapters now, if you don’t want to miss any updates, you can ask me to add your username for notifications whenever a new chapter is posted. Just let me know in a reply, and I’ll make sure you’re included in the next update.

ps. I'll be in Singapore for the F1 from this Thursday until next Tuesday, so I'll pause updating my fic for one week. I hope you can wait patiently.

➡  Intro // EP : I // EP : II // EP : III // EP : IV // EP : V // EP : VI

[Episodes 7] It is impossible to live in the past, difficult to live in the present, and a waste to live in the future.

It’s often said that the safest place is also the most dangerous one. 

Perhaps that’s why Qimir chose to remain hidden on Olega, despite it being home to the Jedi Temple, a major stronghold of the galaxy’s peacekeepers.

For most people, there was no reason to fear the Jedi, who were meant to protect them from harm. But that wasn’t the case for you. You remembered well what Qimir had told you: the Jedi were looking for you, too. Even though their exact motives remained unclear, the sense of paranoia never left your mind. Especially after the massacre on Tatooine, you and Qimir felt like fugitives—always just one step away from being caught if any evidence linking you to the crime surfaced and exposed your secret.

You hated being here. Given a choice, you would have fled to some remote planet at the edge of the galaxy. But Qimir had different ideas. “Most of those who know about your bounty are outlaws or trade federations. Neither group gets along with the Jedi, so they won’t be snooping around places where Jedi gather,” he reasoned. “And the Jedi? They’re too preoccupied with galactic affairs to pay much attention to the planet they’re on. Besides, you don’t have the Force, so finding you would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.”

Qimir wasn’t wrong. Life on Olega had turned out to be unexpectedly peaceful. Despite the city’s persistent chaos, it made hiding much easier. You and Qimir had managed to stay under the radar for over a year without major problems. Everything had settled so seamlessly that you almost forgot what it was like to be on the run from other planets.

With no need to keep moving, Qimir had shifted from his life as an illegal mercenary to opening a modest apothecary. He also worked as a broker, selling medicines and various odds and ends to travelers passing through. Meanwhile, you had taken on the role of his assistant and personal apprentice. Qimir was dedicated to teaching you both the theory and practice of his knowledge, especially in combat. He also encouraged you to continue developing your powers rather than suppressing them as you had before. Like your mother, Qimir believed your abilities were too valuable to be wasted.

“Haven’t you ever thought,” Qimir once said, “that someone like you could rise to replace the Jedi one day? With your power, you could bring far more to the galaxy than they ever could.”

His words seemed absurd, like a far-fetched joke meant to tease you. You laughed every time, confident that such a thing would never happen.

Never getting involved with the Jedi, no matter what, had always been your rule for survival.

But sometimes, fate can be cruelly ironic, and this was a joke that wasn’t amusing at all.

That's what occurs at noon on a Friday—one of fate's cruel jokes when you unexpectedly find yourself face-to-face with a group of Jedi.

It all takes place at Qimir’s apothecary on a day he isn’t around. Lately, he has been disappearing more frequently—sometimes for two or three hours, or even the better part of a day—claiming he has business to attend to involving herbal shipments from other planets. As a result, you’re left to run the store in his absence, handling the medicines and assisting customers as usual.

But everything changes the moment the shop’s bell rings and the door swings open. Brilliant sunlight floods the store, heralding the arrival of three strangers you’ve never seen before.

One of them is a teenage theelin-human hybrid girl, with paper-white skin adorned with spots and orange hair with small horns encircling her head like a crown. The other two are human men—one middle-aged, with long black hair tied in a half-ponytail, his face stern and serious; the other younger, with sharp features, sun-bronzed skin, and a tall, muscular frame, likely not much older than you.

They couldn’t be more different from each other, except for their identical attire. They’re dressed in light yellow tunics, covered by long brown robes, and each wears a large belt with the unmistakable emblem of the Jedi Order.

Jedi—The realization hits you like a bolt of lightning the moment your eyes land on their belts, and you instinctively draw in a sharp breath.

You quickly wipe your sweaty palms on your skirt, composing yourself with practiced ease. Lifting your head from behind the counter, you address them with a polite, businesslike smile. “How may I assist the three of you today?”

The older man, likely a Jedi Master, introduces himself with courtesy as Sol, while the young girl, his Padawan, is named Jecki. The other young man, a Jedi Knight, is introduced as Yord. “We’re here on a mission,” Sol informs you, his voice laced with concern. “We’re investigating a serious incident that occurred in this city.”

You have no idea what serious incident he’s referring to or how severe it must be to involve the Jedi. For a moment, your mind jumps to the possibility that it might be connected to you—until Jecki explains further, warning you to keep the information strictly confidential.

It turns out that the serious incident is a series of murders currently happening on Olega. Four bodies in four months—each victim a high-ranking Jedi responsible for overseeing the temple here.

"Since the incident is still recent, the killer might be someone who just moved here or snuck into the city illegally," Sol continues. "There are many of these types around the spaceports, which is why we need to increase security in those areas to ensure the safety of the citizens."

You can tell Sol's words hold only a half truth. The Jedi aren't particularly concerned about the lives of citizens since the killer's targets are not random people but specifically high-ranking Jedi.

The presence of the three Jedi at the apothecary today is no coincidence. As a newcomer here, you're automatically placed among the suspects, though none of them have the nerve to say it outright to your face.

Understanding this, you begin to relax a little. After all, you have nothing to do with these murders, so there's no reason to worry. You just need to play along with the Jedi's charade until it's over.

Sol, the group's leader, takes charge of questioning you, with Jecki also taking part in the interrogation. Most of their questions are basic: had you noticed anything strange or seen any unusual people recently? They also delve into your personal history—your identity, background, and reasons for ending up on this planet.

You respond naturally, mixing truth with lies, careful not to arouse suspicion. You're confident in your ability to act convincingly—that is, until you sense the sharp gaze of the one Jedi in the group who hasn’t said a word.

You furrow your brow, the intense scrutiny from the Jedi named Yord making you increasingly uncomfortable. You try to ignore him, but there's something inexplicably magnetic about his presence—an instinctive urge that draws you to meet his gaze.

At first, you think he's trying to catch you in a lie, but when you see his expression, you're surprised.

He’s not scrutinizing you for deception—he’s staring at you in shock, as if you’re some kind of ghost.

As you peer deeply into his brown eyes with curiosity, time seems to stretch unnaturally long. You find yourself not looking at the present but plunging into the past. Every moment flashes before your eyes like pages of a book flipping by—one year, ten years, a hundred years, up to a thousand years.

Suddenly, your consciousness is yanked back to the present. You startle as your entire body trembles with the icy chill sweeping over you. Pain surges through you like a jolt of electricity, followed by the sticky sensation of blood trickling from your nose.

You know exactly what’s happening. The side effects of your vision are punishing you for seeing what was not meant to be seen.

Closing your eyes, you take slow, deep breaths, trying to steady yourself and acclimate to the pain. As your senses return, you hear Sol’s concerned voice. "Are you all right?"

"I’m fine," you quickly reply, shaking your head while wiping the blood from your nose with a handkerchief. You feign composure, even though the lingering pain continues to gnaw at you from within.

Sol looks at you with disbelief, but he doesn’t press further. His face betrays concern, and you can’t help but think how fitting he is as a Jedi. His every gesture screams 'purity' If goodness had a color, this man would be the brightest white—so blinding it hurts to look at.

The awkward silence breaks as Sol clears his throat, returning to the topic at hand. “We still don’t have any more leads on the perpetrator, other than the fact that they’re highly skilled with weapons—probably a former soldier or maybe...” He trails off, as if he almost let something slip, but catches himself just in time. "Anyway, if you find any suspicious leads, don’t hesitate to contact me or any other Jedi.”

You watch as Sol places a thin metal card on the counter before bidding you farewell with the classic phrase, "May the Force be with you." He and the other Jedi then leave the apothecary quietly.

You reach for the card, running your fingers along its cold metallic edge. Upon closer inspection, you realize it’s an electronic contact card, storing his information. The front clearly reads, ‘Sol, Human, Jedi Master.

For a brief moment, you consider throwing it far away, but something compels you to tuck it into your pocket instead.

The sun slowly sinks, signaling the approach of evening. Hours have passed, but you're still lost in thought, pondering the group of Jedi you encountered—especially Sol’s story of the horrifying Jedi murder case. Though it has nothing to do with you directly, you can't shake the unease creeping into your mind. It's an inexplicable feeling of foreboding, devoid of any logical reason, as if instinct itself is whispering from deep within, warning you to be cautious. Yet you have no idea what or whom you should be wary of.

And then, there's another matter weighing heavily on your mind—the Jedi Knight named Yord.

His name has settled deep into your thoughts, etched onto your lips. A strange sense of familiarity fills your chest, as though you’ve known him before, despite seeing his face and hearing his name for the first time today.

How odd you think, fragments of a past you can barely recall flicker in your mind, disjointed and unclear. You want to focus your power on a vision, to delve deeper into the memory, but your body is too frail. It would only bring more pain. All you can do now is predict the hazy path of the future, as far as your bruised mind will allow.

You close your eyes, adjusting your breathing to a slow, steady rhythm. You let your mind sink into the stream of consciousness of possible futures.

There’s a ninety percent chance.

Certainty rises inside you—the answer you seek will come when you meet him again... soon.

The Bene Gesserit meditation gradually envelops your mind, nurturing it with such calm and a cold, almost numb detachment. Your fingers gently brush against the knife hidden in your cloak, recognizing that it may become necessary if things spiral out of control.

You step toward the front door of the shop, hand reaching for the handle, but a sudden hesitation grips you, freezing you in place.

A moment of silence surrounds you. You feel like a fish swimming towards a hook, drawn into a dangerous situation you shouldn't be involved with. The closer you get, the harder it becomes to turn back.

But in the end, you open the door anyway.

You stand there, waiting for something to happen. It doesn’t take long before someone grabs your arm, pulling you swiftly into the narrow alley beside the shop, hidden from the bustling street.

Your back hits the wooden wall of a nearby house—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to knock the wind out of you. You look up, meeting Yord's eyes with a calm expression, showing no sign of surprise. You know he is waiting for you, just as you are waiting for him.

“Be careful. You’re in a place you shouldn’t be,” he warns in a firm voice. “Get out while you still can.”

That’s all he says before releasing your shoulder and quickly walking back to the street, disappearing into the crowd while you stay still, watching his broad back in the yellow Jedi uniform fade from view.

In that moment, it's as if a veil of uncertainty is lifted, revealing a truth you had suspected before.

You are certain now. That Jedi can see the future—just like you.[1]

[1] In Star Wars canon, some Jedi can see the future, but only a few—usually masters with strong Force abilities like Yoda (though as he got older, his visions became less reliable). You can see that Jedi powers and the Bene Gesserit abilities are somewhat similar (because Dune inspired Star Wars). However, in this fic, the author wanted to create a special distinction between the Reader (who is a Bene Gesserit) and the Jedi, so regular Jedi can’t have visions like the Reader. Yord’s case is unique and will have significant importance to the plot later on.

[maybe-arts]

ATTENTION KIRBLR

YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED TO

KIRBY'S BIRTHDAY PARTY!

Remember the big collab we've done last year over at Far-Flung Starlight Heroes server? Well, this year we're doing it again!!! And guess what?

You are encouraged to participate too!

What is required from me?

Not much - just pick a single character from Kirby's canon and draw them celebrating Kirby's birthday! The theme this year is "photographs": everyone at Kirby's birthday party are taking a BIIIIIIG group photo with him, and we're trying to make this (probably) the biggest group photo of all Kirby's friends (and some enemies)!

The only thing I ask is that you don't take characters that have already been claimed. I'm intending this to work on "no dupes" and "first come first serve" basis, but I do believe there's a plenty of friendly faces to pick from!

Right now we would really like to have:

Rick

Kine

Nago

Gooey

Flamberge

Pitch

Elline

Claycia

Can I pick multiple characters?

Yes, you can! In fact, there's more than just a drawing of a single character that you can add: the end goal is to make it into a scrapbook-worth page, so any and all decorations, birthday wishes or additional party photos with your chosen characters are welcome!

Keep in mind, however, that additional characters (if they're separate from your main character) and any extra elements are optional. You're more than welcome to pick them, but only if you're sure you can make it all before deadline.

Are the characters from anime/novels/manga allowed?

Yes, they are! I may have to ask for the character's origin if I'm not familiar with them (ESPECIALLY if it's a novel original, I have not read all of them), but you're free to pick as well known or obscure as you'd like. (I know some people on the server are very interested in adding GSA members to the photo...)

In fact, these are who we'd really like to have from anime:

Tuff

Fololo & Falala

Sir Ebrum

Lady Like

Escargoon

Deadline? What's the deadline?

The deadline for submitting your drawings is April 25th. (You can get in some last-second additions up till April 27th, as I'm free that day, but I will be very nervous.)

There's no deadline for signing up, however, so as long as you're ABSOLUTELY SURE you can whip up something good in a matter of couple of hours, you may add your character up till the dawn of last day, haha! (You will sure give me a surprise with that one.)

Okay, but what if all the characters I know/want are already picked?

I know, with FCFS and how many of characters are beloved, this is bound to happen. Not to worry tho!

I have compiled a list of notable characters in the series with references of where they're from and if they have or have not been claimed. You can easily see, which ones are still up for grabs!

If nothing really catches your eye, you can always try and discuss with people who have taken additional characters to see if they're willing to give away, trade or even collab with you to make your characters interact on the group photo! (Trust me, most of the time they will cooperate, so don't hesitate to reach out!

(Keep in mind, however, that the list ISN'T a strict directive on which characters are allowed or needed to be taken. If you have someone on your mind that I've neglected to put in, you're more than welcome to pick them!)

Alright, I'm in. How do I send my submissions?

Simple! I'm working via Google Sheets this time (mostly bc I don't know how Google Forms work and also so people more easily see which characters are taken), so all you need to do is to check out this little handy-dandy link:

On the first sheet you'll see, there's more information on this collab and requirements, and also a list of people who'd already signed up!

To properly sign up, you'd need to list:

Your nickname (so I'd know how to address to you)

Your Discord username (for communication)

Your Tumblr and/or Bluesky username (for crediting once the finished collab is posted, if you don't have either, Twitter/Instagram/other social media of choice is also fine, just know that the result will be posted only on Twitter and Bluesky)

The character(s) of your choosing (to properly claim them)

Rough placement on the canvas (for me to figure out where to put you, maybe you want your character to hold Kirby, or high-five someone else, or discreetly put up horns to someone when they're not looking!)

Submission download link (for me to download your finished submission and add it to the canvas)

Notes (anything you'd think I'd like/need to know about your choice!)

I'm working in Clip Studio Paint, so if you do to, the easiest option would be to upload your cleaned up and flattened work as .clip file. If your art program of choice is different (like Krita, IbisPaint or PaintTool SAI, for example), you can export your work as either .psd or transparent .png. Where to upload your submission is up to you, Google Drive works in a pinch tho.

But wait! How will people know I've participated in this??

That's exactly what I need your usernames for! As I'm posting this on Tumblr mainly, I'm going to @ you as a method of crediting your submissions (specifically pointing out which part you worked on!). After the finished work is posted, you're free to post your individual submissions - either as a reblog of collab or separate post.

Great! Anything else?

One last moment - the main part of communication about this collab happens over here at Far-Flung Starlight Heroes server. (Don't worry, I have permission to promote it.)

It's a chill, fun Kirby-themed server, open to fans of games, anime and novels alike. Are you an artist? Great! Are you a writer? Even better! Do you want to ramble about Lore Implications or just document your 10th 100% completion? Go right ahead! Do you just want to gush about your OCs? People here would LOVE to hear about your little blorbos from your head.

That's it from me! See you around at Kirby's Birthday Party!

[fernlessbastard]

first time using this ask thing heh and i don’t rly know what to say, but, as a casual tntduo lover to another tntduo lover, i desperately kindly ask what are your favourite fics? dont rly mind if its suggestive/smut, id still like to show dem authors love and support. as a trade offer, ill leave some fic recs on my next ask hehe :]

anyways been following u for a while now (on insta) and id like to say ur art brings me immense joy and never fails to inspire me. hope u and your partner have a nice day! bubye !

i know this aint a prompt or idea or concept but u just seem like a cool person that i want to interact with :]

Hiiiiii

My guy, I am so sorry, but I hardly have any recommendations...

Why? Well, I went to my AO3 account, and like a solid 1/3 of my history was completely deleted - as in the works were deleted. Additionally, I haven't been reading much lately, so I have no newer titles, unfortunately. But here's the couple I have:

there's always this thing that we're becoming. Brilliantly written, genuinely gorgeous, in character, etc - it is smut though (top notch smut, though)

I'm pretty sure I enjoyed TntDuo Content I Don't Want To Attach My Username To too - also smut lmao

Agape - NOT smut, for once, but never finished lmao

There's also this fic I am completely not connected to ha ha it's called Losing Face and while it is unfinished I heard that the author is doing this like kinda rewrite kinda reimagining sort of thing where tldr it's the same concept just executed better ha haa👀👀👀

Another one is real life au - it's VERY heavy though. Like, I had to stop reading it at some point cause it was legitimately just hitting too hard. It is well written, and it's supposed to evoke those emotions, but just be VERY careful with it. VERY tldr is that it's about Schlatt - Q's abusive ex - becoming Wilbur's sugar daddy. It is VERY dead dove do not eat, and deals with SA and s-cidal ideation. The fic is called Sugar Lips, but I won't put the link here cause seriously, it's fucking heavy - and in a very realistic way, not the fantasy "eating someone's heart while they're alive" type of thing, but in a "this happens to real people in real life" type of way. Idk if you still want to read it dm me for the link but yeah, just please stay safe, guys

And then there's one work which I cannot find for the life of me - I don't know if it got deleted or something but if it wasn't, tntblr please help me find it It was about Wilbur coming to Quackity when his stitches break. Once the guy stitches him up, there's a whole scene when Wilbur has a breakdown and Quackity helps him through it. Then I believe it's kinda this sort of "montage" of how Wilbur and Q kinda grow closer, and (spoiler alert) it ends with some event during which Sapnap and Karl show up and there's arguing and at some point Wilbur and Sapnap start fighting (physically) and Wilbur ends up beating Sapnap to death. It was so well written, and it was one of the earliest fics i've read, and i haven't been able to find it for a long, long time now

Anyway send me asks about absolutely anything, don't worry about it being "right" or anything - all asks are welcome, be it HCs, prompts, ideas, or just some appreciation, sharing something you like, a question to me, etc :]

[radfemsiren]

sorry i got you in trouble with zendayaimdb by sending her that ask but i'm half uygur so i really did want her to explain why it's eurocentric to be against the hair trade. so much huamn hair comes from xinjiang, it's real human rights issue. you can't be purchasing human body parts and think you're not the bad guy. it's not like buying clothing or food that may have oppressive labour going into creating it (e.g. the farmers or seamstresses not being paid fairly etc). a part of the body is inherently evil to purchase. like, you can't be a feminist and support purchasing parts of a woman's body in any form! i feel like i'm going crazy here.

Haha it’s ok, that’s the problem with the ask box. It’s mostly used (I believe) by cryptos who don’t have public radblr blogs… but if you’re constantly seeing usernames in your feed, it’s gonna put in your mind that they’re being vocal everywhere.

Yea I definitely agree with you, it being an industry that harvests from the human body makes consuming this “product” so much darker.

That’s why I’m personally dying on the hill of using the word dehumanizing lol, that’s the one point I’m never gonna concede 😅 2 things can be true at once, black women are treated terrible for their natural hair, and also black women are actively funding an industry that exploits and harms Asian women

[neonpaperlanterns]

Sometimes I worry that I would forget to mark anonymous one day and just... lose the magic that makes me, Sunny anon... Just wanted to air that out.

Transformers prime thought. Do you think it'd be interesting if a vehicon or two (I think I spelled that right) defected to the autobots? Like... they finally have a flyer-type ally, but said ally is terrified of them because of just what they have done to other vehicons. Given that they all essentially look like clones. I'm going with them being clones. Which means that Buckhead could tear out their insides like in one of the first episodes of TFP. And anyone minus a human could easily tear them apart too.

Maybe they end up having a interaction with one of the autobots, shouting that they are more than just a clone of a con. And this flyer can't really fly solo. Starscream did that and he pretty much barely survived, lost his Tgog. Granted, Starscream shares the survivalability of a roach. But still, that just adds to the reason this defector would stay with the autobots. They are a clone of someone who isn't that durable Cybertronian-wise. The Jack of all trades, can dish out some damage and can take some.

I imagine it'd be real awkward (and hurtful) whenever someone starts stating how many cons they scrapped like it was a high score in some game... Vehicons need some love.

-Sunny Anon

[A/n: If you forgot to put it as anonymous I would screenshot the ask and crop out the username so I could still answer it but delete the original ask. You username would slip from my mind like what I had for breakfast.]

Stand Up

They were doing it again. Boasting about how many Cons they were able to offline. Bumblebee with 22, Smokescreen at 16, Arcee with 24, Bulkhead with 26, and coming in first was Wheeljack with 150. The Bots were arguing that it shouldn't count if there were bombs involved. Sighting it wasn't really Wheeljack who took them out.

Finch curled his servos, digits digging into the metal as they carried on. Oblivious of the other two occupants in the room. BlueJay wanted to leave, wings turned down and their field pulled in tight around them as they urged the other vehicon to come with them. But they were doing it again and Finch was so tired of hearing how proud they were.

He felt like they didn't matter. Like they were back on the Nemesis. Just disposable clones meant for nothing more than to die fighting a war they did not get to choose.

And he has had enough!

"Do you think this is a game!?" He heard himself shout. BlueJay flinched but didn't let go of him.

"Do we matter so little that you can stand around arguing about whether bombs count as if you didn't just murder a couple hundred other Cybertronians?" He asked them, genuinely curious but not caring for an answer right now.

"Fin-" He stopped Bulkhead before he could even begin.

"No I'm not done!" Finch slammed his pede into the floor. "It hurts the way you talk about killing us. How unbothered you are but I remember the remorse that was felt over Skyquake or the concern you-" He stabs a digit at Bulkhead "Felt about what happened to Breakdown." He felt BlueJay's grip tighten, the plating denting just a little as they took in a shaky ex-vent.

"It's like you care more about them than us." BlueJay spoke quietly but the silence that deafened the room assured that everyone heard them.

"Do you not view us as equal to the likes of Breakdown and the others? Are we less in your optics?" Their voice wavered and filled with static near the end.

There was a beat where nothing happened. No one moved, no one made a sound.

Then suddenly all the Bots were talking. Their words falling over each other as they defended themselves. As they apologized. As they reassured. But Finch didn't want to hear it. Not right now. Not when it felt forced. He threaded his digits through BlueJay's and stormed out of the room. They were being followed but it didn't matter. The Bots couldn't follow them up into the clouds.

[pirripfever]

Hii!this blog is just pip i guess or i draw another characters too also

I DRAW IN MULTIPLE ART STYLES‼️

My main is @69liesleft O_o

Just call me Pachi

Im not a dip shipper sadly˵° ᗜ °˵ i draw unusual stuff with 2 characters i guess mainly pip

Yoo i go by it/she

Past usernames: Piripiip this whole blog is a fever dream

I draw pip at least 918273737183737464 times.

I really like dressez and skirts >_<

Art programs i use!!: ms paint and procreate!

I like south park,Touhou and Vocaloid‼️(ples interact with me if y’all like these >_<)

Im 14 years old

Im southeast asian -from the🇵🇭

Socials!!: toyhou.se(user: Asukoaa) youtube(69liesleft)

Ew i have depression i don’t want it☹️ i would do anything to get rid of it

Favorite artists: ZUN🔥🔥 Noen and all my friends and mutuals 💥💥💥💥

I like Satori and Patchouli

Things you shouldn’t do if this happens:

Steal my art

Repost my art without credit

Choke. Please don’t stranger..

Harassment/bullying (i hate humanity)

Criticize my art (if you aren’t being respectful)

Be rude

SCam

Attack me for no reason

Things you can do:

Ask me what to draw (make sure its sfw)

drink water

Eat my art

Criticize my art if you’re actually gonna give me good tips

Art trade🍷🗿 so sigma alpha

DNI!(don’t interact):

Anti lgbt

Darkshiper, proshiper (yall weird and annoyinh asf)

Lolicon/shotacon (idc if you like a character thats 0193848382882 years old it still looks like a kid and also because it encourages pedophilia. I hope you die in a fire🔥🔥🔥/ref)

Pedo

Scammer

Zoofile

Racist

You think ai art is good like pick up a pencil plz.

If you attack random ahh people that did nothing to you i mean like when they are just having fun

Sexualize the south park kids especially when aged up and still wearing their casual outfits when they were kids use the damn post covid ones (if you’re this person and follows me get the actual fuck out)

:

Too tired.

[silverlining-ships]

Grab a cup of tea and relax!

Saluton, you can call me Silver - I'm a young adult self-shipper that lurked in the community for months with my face pressed up against the metaphorical window wanting to join in. It's easily one of the happiest and chillest tumblr communities I've found, and I'm happy to be here!

Some of my fandoms are: Steven Universe, Adventure Time, Gravity Falls, The Owl House, Super Paper Mario, and Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss*. And my F/O is Jasper from Steven Universe, if you couldn't tell! My messages and asks are open, and you can find my caard here with my f/o lists (platonic and romantic) and some playlists! I interact under the username @slipperson-blog! Art Trades: mutuals only Commissions: closed

*I understand the Hellaverse is an uncomfortable fandom for some people here, so I will have everything tagged under the usual #/hazbinhotel or #/helluvaboss tags for blocking

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

I Knew You Were Trouble When You Walked In 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, medical procedures including dialysis and chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Pete Brenner, short!reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

It's not the treatments themselves but the constancy. This isn't just one day, this is the rest of your life. Several days a week walking through those doors, spending hours with a needle in your arm, only to walk away feeling nauseous and dizzy.

The effects only last a few hours, just until your blood pressure evens out, but it's enough to put you out for the rest of the day. With a bandage on your arm, you fold up your laptop and slide it into your bag. What better way to multitask but work while you have the life drained from you. Well, the alternative is hardly preferable, a grizzly, toxic death of drowning in your own waste. You've always been an optimist.

You take a moment before you leave, trying to steady the hazy lines in your vision. You take a breath and leave the office, bidding a quick farewell to Louise, your attending nurse. Outside of the clinic and work, you don't get out much, and much of the latter you can do from home.

You go down the clanging metal stairs to the lobby. As you cross the floor, a man stands by the index of offices, scratching his flopping hair as he glances over. You give a sheepish arch of your brows and tuck your chin down.

"Hey," he stops you before you reach the door, "er, I'm looking for the Wellness Studio? Er..." He turns to you as you stop with your hand on the front door, "Colson's?"

You furrow your brow. That sounds familiar but you really don't know about anything else in the building. You just come here to get your dialysis.

"Erm, I..." you peek out the window and see the sign across the street, red font on a white background, "is that it?"

You point to the moniker that reds 'Colson's' and the man nears to look over your shoulder. He blows out a huff and tuts, "oh god, I must seem like a moron."

"Uh, no..." you push through the door and he catches it behind you, extending his arm over your head.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he nudges your arm as he follows you outside.

"Mhmm," you turn down the sidewalk, set on your path to the station.

"Hey, wait, can I get a name?" He sprints up next to you, "you've been so helpful--"

You look at him, unused to that level of familiarity. You're not exactly that discernable from the brickwall beside you. Your expression must betray your confusion and surprise.

"Just a name," he says as he puts out his hand, "Pete. So, trade?"

You hide your discomfort and reach to shake his hand, eking out your name. You clear your throat and glance around him, not wanting to be rude. You're not quite sure how to gently mention that your train is due.

"So, you come here often?" He stretches his arm out to lean on the brick facade, hand pushing his jacket back as he grips his hip.

You nod and peer around. He's a stranger even if you know his name. You're not very fond of those.

"Am I keeping you?" He asks coolly.

"I just... gotta catch the train," you utter, "sorry, I--"

You go to step around him and he pushes away from the wall, blocking your way, "alright, alright, can I get a number?"

"Er, oh, no," you blurt out in shock, "no, I mean... I don't know you."

He rolls his eyes and smirks, "yeah you do, I'm Pete."

You shake your head and step sideway again. He moves with you. Your chest boils with frustration and a tint of fear. This is why you shouldn't talk to strange men. Especially men twice your size.

"Woah, woah, don't look so scared, honey, I'm not gonna hurt you," he puts his hands down, "I just think you're a cutie. Forgive me for being so forward." He backs away, "don't let me keep you, you go on and get your train."

You frown, uneasy at his sudden appeasment. You swallow and step past him cautiously. You keep your head straight and march down the sidewalk between the passing pedestrians. Their indifference makes you feel even more uneasy.

As you go to turn the corner towards the station, you look back. The man stands amidst the city rush, unbothered by those around him as he watches you, his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his dark red blazer. You shudder and scurry behind the shield of the buildings. You might just ask to go out the back door next time.

[mellowwhumps]

hello!! name’s mello, and i go by they/them pronouns! been in this community for a fair while actually, just realised that it’s a little disorganized to have both fandom and whump posts together sdfhkshfdkjs. will be writing soon, in fact i made this blog to motivate me to write more (i hope)!

i’ll do content mostly for ocs, though i want to maybe make some a/b/c prompts as well as some webweaves? who knows i just post whatever i want! sometimes might not even be whump i just want a place to post haha. if you're looking for dialogue posts don't look for me i tend to lapse into description more :D

i also want to interact with more people!! in my other blog i mostly just stuck with tags (very shy i fear) but i do genuinely like rambling about posts i like sometimes

oh and i draw also i guess

------------

my links! (how do you embed)

toyhouse for ocs:

my other blog/the one people here might know me as: @melodxi

my stuff tag: #mellowwhumps

------------

what do i like? i made a tierlist quite recently!! username may be a little misleading i do like the not so mellow stuff too (sometimes)

edit: it is now updated!! still pretty much the same though; just more specific as i figure out what i like — just because i like it doesn’t mean you’ll see it here + there are inaccuracies since i change all the time

little warning you may sometimes find minor whump (mostly emotional) here !! not all the time but this is simply build-up for found family content i love found family it's the trope ever

------------

and that’s all! praying i have the motivation to run this blog but i absolutely love whump and all its little sidetropes; feel free to send asks or really just talk about anything!

OC MASTERLIST BELOW THE CUT:

June of Doom

Whumperless Whump Event

scuffed oc introductions !!

asks: dynamics with haley

asks: theoretical tattoos

asks: silly hair lore post

misc. writing: ida & yuuto au

cicadas’ chime - full oc masterpost

caretaker prompts i like (not ocs but i’ll put it here anyway)

[lorwolf-salt]

Okay, Coop7011 here, SaltyLoria staff, ignore my first post. Weird vore person here (she for those who don't know), not sure if I should be doing this but I figured it's better that people hear from me instead of talking about me and making things up, plus whatever the frick happened in that thread. Keep in mind all of this (besides the thread issue yesterday) happened months ago. And it started in that thread yesterday because I merely said something along the lines of 'I am not in the official Lorwolf Discord for private reasons, and never will be' and random curseword guy got butthurt about that for some reason, even though it's against the rules to discuss moderator actions. I don't know who he is, but I can only assume it was just a guy who really hates vore. And I suspect a lot of people here also hate vore, and that's fine. I just hope some of you can see past that hate and see the truth of what really happened.

Yes, I was banned from the discord, but not because I 'wanted to show little kids NSFW'. Keep in mind that while I was ON the server, my username was not Wholesome Vore Writer, it was Coop7011, the same as it was on the website. You would only see Wholesome Vore Writer if you DMed me. At the time, I did not have Nitro, so when the staff asked me to remove the link to my Ao3 (that nobody has to click, nobody is forced to read, and has warnings and tags everywhere about the content of the stories) then I'd be changing it for every single discord server I was in. They were also forcing me to change my base username, and not just my nickname on the discord server (which was Coop7011 anyway). I felt this was unreasonable, but changed it for a time so I could conclude some trade deals on the discord server. Then, after some time, I admit that I got salty about the staff of one discord server (LW) forcing me to change so much on an account that I use for so many other things. So I changed it back. Things were fine for awhile (because that's how unnoticeable it is, unless someone snoops through my profile or DMs me) but then eventually I was banned without word. I don't agree with this choice, but I've long since accepted it as a fact that I didn't heed to their requests/went back on it and thus they had their right to get rid of me. I didn't care that much as long as I was able to play on Lorwolf itself. Keep in mind that no word of my writing is on the server or the website, all of this is about my base Discord username (hidden since I set my nickname on server to be my Lorwolf username) and a link to my stories on my discord profile. Personally, I also don't agree with calling my work NSFW, as they are not sexual and I don't write them with sexual intent. They are emotional comfort stories to cope with trauma, where no one is harmed (yes vore is people being swallowed, but they're safe in my work). I won't get into too much detail about this, because frankly, I don't think it should matter what I write about off-website. It's not using Lorwolf characters and it's not being posted directly on Lorwolf anything. This is the most I've ever talked about it in a semi public space about this pet sim game. So there you go, that's what happened. And I am deeply sorry to VNX for what happened to the thread, I purposely didn't take part in discussing back and forth because I knew it would go nowhere and would just result in countless removed posts, but I guess someone else did argue about it.

[libraryofneith]

Out of Mind Chapter 1 (Joel Miller x Reader)

Chapter 2

This is my first The Last of Us fanfic : D This is based on the HBO show, not the video game - i don’t know how to video game. I’m also still getting to grips with how Tumblr works so if my fanfics don’t look as swish as some other fics do, bear that in mind. If you have any tips let me know! I’m also on AO3 under the same username and I tend to update that first. You can check out this fic and my others here.  

Summary:  You're a pickpocket trying to make a living in the Boston QZ, what happens when you cross two of the most dangerous smugglers in the city? 

Well if you've read any TLOU self-inserts, or any self inserts at all for that matter, you can probably guess : )This is probably gonna be a long one, we're talking some serious slow cooking here. But I promise you it will be worth it. There is gonna be some serious lemony goodness when it comes, like really really lemony, so look away ye minors or people of delicate sensibilities (no seriously i mean it).Until that comes we're gonna have it all - morally ambiguous characters, angst, more trauma than you can shake an hbo show at, hurt and comfort, maybe a little fluff if you ask nicely and so. much. pining!!!!!

Preview:  You were almost disappointed at how easy it had been. One cheeky smile, a suggestive lilt in the voice and that guy could barely tell his ass from his ear. So much for the Clint Eastwood of the Boston QZ.

Warnings/Tags: [18+ minors DNI], Boston QZ era Joel, Pre-Ellie, not Tess slander, reader and Tess are friends, slow burn, like really slow burn, slow roast cooker here, mutual pining, age gap - reader is 27 and Joel is 50, he’s my depiction of a fictional character and I’ll thirst if I want to, angst, hurt/comfort, trauma, attempts at healing, not everything about these characters and their relationships is healthy but it’s an apocalypse so sue me. 

Joel

Today was not a good day.

The sun was beating down unrelenting on Joel as he stalked through the streets of Boston trying to get as far away from the unconscious FEDRA soldier as humanly possible. Apparently that little shit thought that five ration cards for a bag of anti-depressants actually meant three ration cards and a gun in his face. The only thing Joel had taken away from that trade was the look on the guard's face when his fist connected with his jaw. At least he'd gotten the drugs back. If he'd come back to the apartment with ration cards and the stash gone Tess would've been pissed - or more pissed than she was already going to be. Maybe if he stopped by the courtyard he could trade with...

Oof!!!

Joel cursed as he crashed headlong into some stupid girl.

"Oh shit sorry."

He gave no response to her apology except a grunt.

"Oh... shit, sorry," she repeated, the words now laced with innuendo. "Wouldn't want to harm a hair on your lil' head." Who's that short-ass calling little'?

"Don't sweat it. Takes more than a bump to bring me down."

"Oo I bet it does." She was standing toe-to-toe with him now, eyes glinting, her hand stroking up and down his arm. "I wonder what it takes to bring you down." Her hand lingered and her smile threatened to draw him in and for a moment, he almost found himself leaning towards her. Then he snapped back to reality and brushed her off.

"Sorry. Not interested." Last thing he needed today was Tess giving him the cold shoulder all night. Still, he let his eyes follow her a little. She was too young for him by half but no harm in looking. Just looking. She wasn't unattractive, not unattractive at all. Like almost everyone in the QZ she looked like she'd seen better days but there was something in the way she walked, bounced almost, like she was ready to take on every fucker who tried her. And her eyes... shit. Her eyes had caught him staring. She flashed him another smile but he tore himself away, already burning her image out of his mind. A cold shower, a few pills, and a glass of whisky and it'd be gone.

"Took you long enough." Tess was already nursing a bottle when he got home.

"Hello to you too."

"What happened?" Joel sighed. He could never keep anything from her.

"Stupid fuckin' kid wouldn't pay up. Things turned ugly."

"You ok?"

"Yeah, but if that FEDRA bastard wakes up he's gonna have one hell of a headache." Tess grinned.

"So you got the stash back?"

"Yup. Gottit right he-" Tess's face fell and Joel's stomach sank as he pulled out a clear plastic bag filled with marbles, not pills.

"Joel what the fuck?!"

"Someone must've switched the bags."

"Without you noticing, how?"

"I don't know." His entire body was quivering with rage.

"Maybe it was that stupid FEDRA kid..."

"No. He's not that smart." The apartment was filled with a stony silence as he tracked back everything that had happened after the deal had gone south. He knew he had the bag after. Then he'd gone straight home, he hadn't seen or spoken to anyone after. Well, except...

"Oh." Then it dawned on him.

"What?"

"That fucker."

"What Joel. Who was it??"

He could picture her now. The glint in her eyes, that confident stride as she walked away from him, that smile, that damn smile.

"I'm gonna kill her."

---

You

You grinned as you examined the bag. One week's worth of happy pills. And after you met with Robert that bag would be seven ration cards.

You were almost disappointed at how easy it had been. One cheeky smile, a suggestive lilt in the voice and that guy could barely tell his ass from his ear. So much for the Clint Eastwood of the Boston QZ. You'd still have to lay low for the next few weeks until Tess and Joel gave up on finding you. From what you'd heard these people were not to be fucked with. Of course you had anyway but after tomorrow you'd be able to kick back and relax until your supplies ran out. Tiny Dancer blasted through your walkman as you laid back on your mattress surrounded by books, sweets, cigarettes and everything else that almost no one but you had.

Things were finally looking up.

Hope you enjoy, more to come. Like and reblog if you enjoyed, if you didn’t send it to your enemies.

[illegal-spiegel]

as a black girl who loves spike, HCS OF SPIKE W A CURLY HAIRED S/O 🗣🗣🗣🗣

YES I CAN 🗣🗣🗣🗣

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

this man has some of the wildest, unruliest hair known to man

despite this though, it doesn't really curl much

eh well, it gets some random waves but that's pretty much it

which honestly, thank god. if this man had curly hair A. he wouldn't know wtf to do with it or how to take care of it and B. he'd just be too fine for us to handle

anyway

when he meets you, he's instantly fascinated by your hair

sure, his hair is green and kinda wild, but he's never had to deal with hair like yours

and by "deal" I mean having it in his face when he hugs you, finding strands of it on the bathroom counter, a bajillion products for it lining said counter, and the list goes on

how the fuck do you manage it all???

sigh, he's a menace to society so ofc when he first meets you, he just touches it without asking 😭✋

you're quick to shut that shit down though. he, ofc, doesn't see the big deal though and offers to let you touch his hair

honestly, it's a fair trade bc with how big his hair is, surely he's gotta be hiding something in there right?

when you start dating, he's very interested in watching your hair routine

he likes the way you all the products smell

eventually asks to help you with your routine one day

you tell him step by step what to do, so he uses the right products...but not the right amounts

your hair ends up way too stiff in some parts and completely frizzy in others

he kinda feels bad until you start laughing and give him a kiss, thanking him for his help

loves loves loves playing with it when you two are just relaxing in the common room or in the bedroom

likes pulling on strands and letting them go, watching them bounce

he likes doing the trick when you get out of the shower where you take a comb or whatever to shape each individual curl. he asks to help with that and actually gets the hang of it (since it's not that hard). it makes the process go a lot faster and he feels good about being helpful

likes buying you different scrunchies and nightcaps to wear at night. he even got you one with guns on it LMAO

if you ever straighten it or do smth else to it, he literally will collapse PFFT

is so shocked bc wtf did you do???? is it gone forever???? he loved it sm tho

after reassuring him it's temporary, he physically becomes relieved

"Good."

if he ever finds out you were insecure about it, his heart will shatter

like dude there's no way???

it's gorgeous! shut the fuck up. you're on crack. he's obsessed with it

no, you can't cut it without his permission /hj

all in all he loves your hair and would kill someone before letting you ever think he doesn't like it

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MASTERLIST

More with Spike

Join my discord server (I also have an 18+ one that is personal invite only. If you want access to that DM me!): https://discord.gg/qnDxJ6rr67 

Tag List: @nojamsss03, @katsuhera, @sunflowersenshi ✦ if you would like to be added or removed, comment or send an ask. Also, remember to tell me if you ever change your username so I can continue to tag you :)

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