#i'm using this as an opportunity to test new brushes

[hoshidensha]

Looptober / Melotober Day 2: Gym Leader + Herbs

Gonna admit I've just barely started SwSh but Galar region has a soft spot in my heart. Also Milo is a cutieeee

[incognit0slut]

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3| PART 4

Behind Closed Doors 4

Your frustration over his broken promise melts away as soon as he calls, and you find yourself unexpectedly drawn to his voice, more than you anticipated.

Warnings: (18+, MDNI) Phone sex, mutual (and guided) masturbation, dirty talk ~4.7k words

A/n: this is just me wishing he was on quinn😔 anyway enjoy part 4, this mini series is not dead (i don’t even know how long it will be but let’s just celebrate that I’m finally updating)

All men do is lie, you thought as you flopped onto your bed.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault—but you weren’t in the mood to be reasonable. You remembered that car ride vividly. He had promised you more time together, a moment to finally be alone. Instead, what did you get? A new case, then another, and amidst all the chaos and dodging bullets (literally and metaphorically), you two somehow managed to drift apart.

The past few weeks had been the busiest since you started working at the BAU, and that was saying a lot, considering there was never really a moment of peace when you worked for the government. But this time was different, it seemed even more chaotic than usual. Every time you thought of bringing up the conversation with him—or maybe sneak in a little make-out session—something urgent would come up. 

There was never the right time, or the right moment. It felt as if the universe had other plans for you, and none of them involved the two of you getting a moment alone. And before you knew it, you were caught in this maddening cycle of missed opportunities, and the worst thing was, you were sexually frustrated.

This time, you had no one else to blame but him. Ever since he came into the picture, your carefully maintained self-control had started to slip, and now, despite your best efforts, you couldn’t ignore the growing need between your legs. It was aching, throbbing, and even the thought of him was making you hot and restless.

How did he manage to do that? He wasn’t even trying. There was nothing overtly seductive in the way he moved or spoke, and yet every glance, every accidental touch, seemed to affect you. Spencer. Just his name made your breath hitch, your body betraying you. You weren’t proud to admit this, but the mere thought of his fingers brushing your skin had you feeling that first rush of arousal slipping into your panties.

You huffed, considering digging out your pink silicone toy hidden somewhere in your drawer. And while you were contemplating this, knowing it had been a while since you last used it because nothing could compare to the feeling of his touch now, your phone on the bedside table rang.

Maybe the universe was really testing you, because his name flashed across the screen and it took a lot of self-control for you not to pick up on the first ring and demand him to fuck you right there and then, which sounded too crass when you weren’t in the middle of straddling his lap like the last time. So instead, you decided to wait until the sixth ring before you answered with a curt, “Hey.”

There was a pause, then a sigh. “You’re mad at me.”

Could he tell? Of course, he could. He always had an uncanny ability to read you, even over the phone. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”

“I can almost see you rolling your eyes.”

“I never roll my eyes,” you shot back.

“You rolled your eyes last week when Luke tried to tell us that his dog could sniff out bodies better than our trained ones.”

You suppressed a smile, surprised that he even noticed you giving Luke a once-over at that particular moment. “That was because his dog chases its tail more than it chases leads.”

"And I'm not worthy of an eye roll?"

“Honestly, you deserve more than an eye roll,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

"So you are mad,” he stated, growing quiet for a while. “I’m sorry.”

And now you felt bad. You ran a hand through your hair, trying to clear your thoughts. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but it doesn’t make me feel any less better.”

You felt a pang of guilt as you stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t exactly fair to blame him. Serial killers, unfortunately, didn’t come with a schedule, and now Spencer was already on his leave. You recalled the excitement in his voice when he told you about the seminars Emily had arranged for him to teach. He had spoken with an enthusiasm you hadn’t heard in a long time, his eyes practically lighting up every time he mentioned it.

How could you be upset about that?

"I'm not... mad.”

There was a slight teasing note in his voice as he replied, "Just annoyed then?"

You held back a smile. "Maybe a little."

“Anything I can do to help with that?” His voice softened through the phone. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

Your thoughts immediately went to the sticky situation between your legs, and you felt a flush of embarrassment. Technically, he could help with that. But could you say that? Should you? 

"I don’t know, depends on what you have in mind,” you replied, trying to steer your mind away from the direction it was heading. There was a pause, a silence that hung in the air as he carefully considered his next words.

"I could… start by telling you how much I miss you?”

Now that, you didn’t expect. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. Spencer had never really acknowledged his feelings with words when his actions spoke volumes, but hearing him say it out loud made the emotions between you feel undeniably real. It was as if his words shattered whatever platonic friendship the two of you had built over the past years.

Although you knew your friendship had fundamentally changed the moment he had you pinned on the desk that fine afternoon, it didn’t stop you from questioning about where you truly stood.

"You miss the idea of me," you corrected him, unable to resist yourself.

“You know that’s not true,” he replied gently.

“Do I?”

“Yes, you know me better than that,” he insisted. “You’re a great profiler, you can tell if I’m not being honest.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, despite trying to stay mad at him. "You hate being profiled.”

"That was before I realized how useful your skills are in deciphering my feelings.”

“You know I’d rather you tell me how you feel.”

“I did, I miss you, and you chose not to believe me.”

Your cheeks actually ached from smiling too much. You couldn’t help but feel a warm, tingling sensation spread through you. “Fine,” you sighed, finally giving in. “I believe you.”

“And?”

You rolled onto your side. “And what?”

“Do you not miss my absence at work?”

“Well…”

“Well?” He prompted.

Now how could you tell him you missed more than just his presence? How could you admit that you missed the way he made you feel, the way his breath felt hot against your skin, without sounding obvious or too needy? Because you missed everything about him. His hands, his lips, his tongue—oh dear god, his tongue.

Spencer suddenly called out your name, and you forced yourself to focus, feeling your heartbeat quicken as you cleared your throat.

“Yes, I—I miss you,” you finally admitted.

There was a pause, then his voice came through, lighter, teasing. “Why do you sound like that?”

“…like what?”

“Like you’re out of breath.”

You gripped the sheets tightly, the fabric bunching under your fingers. How could you even begin to explain this to him now that he was onto you? You felt like you were on the verge of a full-blown emotional meltdown. God, if he knew how many times you’d replayed every kiss, every touch, in your mind, he’d never let you live it down.

It was almost laughable, really. Here you were, trying to keep it together, and failing miserably. “It’s just… I really, really miss you.”

“You really miss me? Are you trying to say something?”

You hesitated, your mind scrambling for the right words without revealing too much. “No…?”

“Mhm,” he replied, clearly unconvinced. “You’re not telling me everything.”

You gripped the phone tighter. “I’m just saying... It's hard without you here. You know, in every way.”

“In every way?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling both embarrassed and mortified. “I just... I miss how you make me feel. Physically.”

“Physically?” he pressed. “Can you elaborate?”

“I’m... you know, I’ve been... missing certain things. Certain... activities.”

“Certain activities,” he repeated your words once again. It was then that you realized he was teasing you, clearly enjoying your discomfort a little too much. “You mean like... talking?”

“No. More like... the other stuff we do when we’re alone.”

"I don't understand."

At that point, your embarrassment was gnawing at you. You wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. “God, Spencer, don’t make me say it,” you groaned, burying your face in your pillow.

“Come on, I need a little more than that.” He sounded both amused and curious. “I’m just making sure I understand you right.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you muttered into the pillow, your voice muffled but still clear enough for him to hear.

“Actually, I don’t think I do. You could be missing so many things, you have to help me out here.”

You turned your head to the side, exasperation coloring your tone. “Spencer…”

"Yes?" he responded innocently.

"You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

"I find precise communication to be very important.”

You let out a groan, feeling the last of your restraint crumble. “Alright! Fine!” you snapped. “I’m horny, okay? And it’s all your fault!”

His laughter rang through the phone, and you could almost see the grin spreading across his face. “My fault?"

"Yes! I feel like a deprived, horny teenager here, and I just…”

You trailed off, hardly believing you had actually said that out loud. The realization hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you wished you could take it back. There was a pause that seemed to stretch on forever and you wondered if you had gone too far.

He finally broke the silence, breathing out your name in a way that made your skin tingle. "You could've told me from the start."

You could, but you’d rather not.

"I didn't want to sound desperate."

"You can be desperate with me,” he said softly. “Just say the word and I’ll give you anything you want.”

If there was one thing Spencer was good at, it was getting under your skin. He really shouldn’t be saying those words, not now, not when it was making you crave him even more. You swallowed, feeling a tightness in your chest, a knot in your stomach. The part of you that always played it safe wanted to retract, to laugh it off as a joke. But then there was that other part, the part that craved his attention, the part that was tired of holding back.

“Tell me, what do you want now?”

You took a deep breath and laid on your back, the words catching in your throat. You felt your pulse quicken.

“I want… you.”

“Tell me how you want me.”

Your fingers trailed over the sheets, your touch light as you imagined it was him beneath your fingertips. “Spencer…”

“Come on,” he pressed. “Tell me.”

You paused, your heart pounding in your chest. You could almost imagine him right in front of you, staring at you with those beautiful brown eyes that always managed to make you melt, coaxing words from you that you barely dared to think, let alone speak.

Just say it. He's waiting. He wants to hear it.

Your hand began to move.

“I… I want your hands on me.”

“Where do you want my hands?”

“Everywhere,” you whispered, your fingers grazing your body as if they were his. You closed your eyes.

“Everywhere?”

You found yourself nodding even though he couldn’t see you.

“On my hips…”

Your hand danced across your hips.

“My stomach…”

Your palm slipped under your shirt, moving slowly up your abdomen, feeling the warmth of your own touch and wishing it was his.

“Between my thighs…”

You paused at the hem of your panties, the only barrier beneath your shirt, hesitating as a flush of warmth spread through you. The line was silent for a moment, save for the sound of his breathing—a soft, heavy rhythm that matched the pounding of your own heart.

“Where else do you want me?”

Your fingers dipped inside the fabric. “I want you lower…”

“Tell me exactly where.”

“Where I’m most sensitive,” you confessed, the words slipping out before you could stop them.  Your thighs instinctively squeezed together, hips rolling gently as your free hand began to drift south. “Spencer… please…”

“Are you touching yourself?”

“I…”

“Are you?”

“No…”

“Do you want to touch yourself?”

You licked your lips, your breath coming faster. “Maybe.”

“Then do it, no one’s stopping you.”

You hesitated, the reality of the situation sinking in. You couldn’t believe this was happening, that you were having this conversation with him. "This feels so naughty.”

"Naughty can be nice, though, right?" he assured you. "Don't think about it too much. It’s just you and me.”

There really was something about his voice, the way it effortlessly wrapped around you—smooth, coaxing, almost hypnotic. Despite the hesitation that tugged at your mind, your hand began to move lower, and your legs parting involuntarily. A soft gasp escaped your lips when your hand flew right to your pussy, fingers quickly tracing the length of your folds. You were already wet, and you began to spread your arousal towards your clit.

“Spencer…” you whined, feeling the sudden rush of sensations.

“Keep going,” he urged. “Tell me what you feel.”

You closed your eyes. “It feels… good…”

“Describe it to me.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to find the words through the haze of pleasure. “It’s warm and wet… and…”

And you wished he was the one touching you.

You let your mind drift to your fantasy. You imagined it was his fingers circling your clit. You imagined his lips against yours, the way they would move together. You imagined him whispering these words right in front of you, his eyes locked on yours as you writhed beneath him. The fantasy felt so vivid that for a moment, you could almost feel his weight pressing down on you, his presence enveloping you completely.

Your imagination urged you to move faster, but you felt limited by the fabric in the way. You called out his name. “Can I… can I take my, um, underwear off?”

You could almost hear the smile in his voice as he replied, “Of course you can.”

You put your phone down, and with trembling fingers, you slid the fabric down your legs. You discarded them quickly and turned the call to speaker before you settled back on the bed. Your hand returned to your body, fingers brushing over your sensitive skin. You parted your legs even wider, and as your fingers found their rhythm, a moan escaped you.

“Better?”

You sighed in relief as you continued to rub your clit. “So much better.”

“Keep it slow, okay? We don’t want to rush.”

His voice was low and soothing, and you couldn’t believe how just by his voice he had gotten you so worked up.

“Now press a little harder.” You complied, applying a bit more pressure on your clit. "Right there. Do you feel that?"

"Yes," you gasped, your back slightly arching off the bed.

“I wish I could see you right now," he murmured. “I'd kiss you where you're touching.”

You let your imagination take over. You pictured him with his head right between your thighs, his eyes locked on yours with those intense, pretty eyes. You imagined his mouth moving over your clit, sucking gently while his fingers explored between your folds. The thought was so vivid, so real, that you could almost feel his warm breath against your skin.

The mental image of him looking up at you was almost too much to bear. “Spencer…”

"Keep going. Are your fingers wet?" You could simply moan back a reply, not trusting your own voice. “Now slowly slide in one. Can you do that for me?”

You did as he said, sliding a finger into your wetness. You could feel how tight you were, the slick warmth of your arousal enveloping your skin. You looked down between your legs and watched as you pleased yourself. It wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar sight. You had done this countless times before, but never with the voice of a man guiding you, especially Spencer—the last person you’d imagine doing this with.

Yet look at how much effect he had on you.

"You're quiet," his voice suddenly came through. "Are you still with me?"

"Yes," you managed to whisper. "It's just... a lot."

"In a good way, I hope?"

“Very good,” you assured him.

You could practically picture the corner of his lips twitching into a proud smile. “Good,” he recited. “Now try adding another finger.”

You couldn't help a moan escaping your lips as you pushed in your middle finger, the sound louder than you intended.

"How does that feel?"

"Full," you breathed out, adjusting to the sensation.

“Yeah? I bet you’re so tight.”

You were, awfully so. Your walls clenched around your fingers, almost swallowing them as you started to move them in a steady rhythm. The pleasure built in your lower stomach, a warm, coiling tension that made you desperate for more. You needed his voice, you craved his guidance, even from afar.

“Spence…” you whined. “Keep talking, please.”

“You want me to describe how I’d touch you if I were there?”

You moaned in response, the sound escaping your lips involuntarily, urging him to continue.

“If I were there,” he began, his voice low, “I’d start by kissing you slowly.”

You could almost feel it, his lips on yours, his tongue probing inside your mouth.

“I’d move lower,” he continued. “Kiss your neck, your collarbone… while my fingers would move along your hips, your thighs, getting closer and closer to where you need me most.”

You whimpered, your fingers moving faster as you followed his vivid description, imagining his touch guiding you.

“I’d tease you, brush my fingers right at your entrance,” he whispered. “Then, I’d slip them inside you, just like you’re doing now.”

Your breaths came in short gasps.

“I’d spread your legs wide,” he continued again, and you heard a faint rustling noise in the background. “I’d move my fingers in… and… out...”

Your legs fell further apart.

“I’d curl my fingers the same way I did that day,” he went on. “Do you remember?”

How could you not? It never truly left your mind. You could picture that day clearly, the feeling of his fingers and mouth working on your sensitive spot seemed to linger in your memory.

“I’d do the same thing that you like,” he proceeded, and you focused on his voice. “I’d lean in close… licking you… sucking you.”

You moaned loudly as the image of his mouth on your clit flashed through your mind. You could almost feel the way he would sloppily lap at you, drinking in every drop of your arousal with each eager flick of his tongue.

“Go faster for me,” he urged. “I-I want to hear how wet you are.”

You followed his words, and the slick sounds of your arousal filled the quiet around you as you imagined him there, his fingers replacing yours. You could hear more noise through the line, the subtle rustle of clothes moving, the faint sound of his breathing growing heavier before he let out a low grunt.

“You make the prettiest sounds,” he breathed out. “Now add another finger.”

Your eyes narrowed into a frown, trying to slip a third finger in but the stretch was too intense for you to continue. “I-I can’t.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed. “Just take it slow. Try to relax.”

You took a deep breath, trying to follow his instructions. You slowly eased in another finger, feeling the awkward stretch but the initial discomfort quickly faded into a deeper pleasure, and you moaned softly.

“Oh, fuck.”

“There you go,” he encouraged. “Feel that? Feel how full you are?”

You hummed a reply.

“That’s how I want you to feel when I’m finally inside you.”

A whine left your lips. In your head, you saw him, his body poised above yours, his cock sliding smoothly into you. You imagined the slick, rhythmic motion, the way each thrust would fill you, stretching you, overwhelming you. You cried out a filthy moan at the thought, unabashed and desperate, as you began to pump your fingers inside your cunt.

“Push deeper for me… I know you can take it.”

You gasped, pushing your fingers as deep as they could go. “I can’t… I need… oh…”

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “You need more. You need me inside you, don’t you?”

“Spencer, please…” you begged, your voice breaking into desperate, choked sobs.

“You want that? You want to feel me stretch you?”

“Yes, yes…” you managed to moan out, your movements became more desperate.

“God, you’d be so tight around me… I’d have your legs spread wide so I… I-I could see how perfect you’d take me.”

You could almost feel his hands on your hips, his body pressing against yours, filling you completely. Your fingers moved frantically, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you felt the tension building to an unbearable peak.

“You’d pull me closer, wouldn’t you? You’d ask for more, like you always do, and I’d give it to you,” he promised. “I’d give it to you so hard… s-so deep…”

And that was when you heard it—the unmistakable sound of wetness, like skin sliding over slick, damp skin. The sound was filthy, making your pulse race as you wondered what he might be doing on the other end of the line. Your voice trembled as you slowly asked him, “Spence, are you…?”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end before he let out a soft, almost sheepish laugh, as if you had caught him red-handed. “I… yeah,” he admitted, his voice breathless and strained. "Do you know how hard it is not to when listening to your voice?"

Your fingers subconsciously quickened at his confession, their movements becoming more urgent as you imagined him laying on his own bed, hand wrapped around his cock. You bit your lip to stifle your moans as you whispered, “Tell me what you’re doing.”

His breathing grew ragged, his words coming in clipped bursts. “I’m… I’m touching myself…”

You tried to focus on his voice, but the sound of his sloppy strokes began to echo louder. “Tell me more.”

“I’m… I’m rubbing… my fingers over the head,” he gasped, and you curled your fingers deeper, using your palm to grind against your clit. The way he sounded so lost in his pleasure, unable to hold back, had you imagining him stroking himself. You pictured yourself doing it for him, remembering how it felt that day when you had his cock in your hand—the weight, the warmth, the way he looked at you through intense eyes.

Your breathing grew heavier, louder, and his voice cracked with a strained moan as he whispered, “Can you lower your phone?”

You fumbled with the device, bringing it closer to where your fingers worked tirelessly between your legs. “Like this?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, the sound of his strokes growing faster and more urgent. “You sound so perfect.”

You let out a soft cry, your fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt frantically as you imagined him watching you, listening to every sound you made. The wet, slick noises filled the room, so intense and filthy. You looked down to see your juices spilling over your fingers, soaking the sheets beneath you. The sheer sound of it was enough to drive him crazy.

“I—f-faster, please,” he panted into the phone. “I need you to go faster.”

Your eyes widened for a moment as the desperate plea slipped from his lips. But you didn’t have the mental space to think about it. Your focus was solely on reaching your release as you ultimately sped up your pace. Your body began to tighten up, feeling so much pressure and pleasure building up every time your fingertips hit that deep spot inside you.

"Oh—fuck!” You exhaled sharply as the familiar sensation took over you. “I’m cumming I’m cumming I’m cumming—”

With a cry that was both a sob and a shout, your pussy fluttered around your fingers. Your orgasm ripped through you without warning, sending shockwaves of intense pleasure through your body as you gasped and shuddered. Your voice escaped in broken moans and whines, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“Spencer… oh, God, Spencer…”

The sound of your climax drove him to his own release. His breath hitched, his movements faltering as he let out a harsh sound from his throat. It was raw and unrestrained, downright filthy, and you listened intently, your fingers slipping out only to circle and rub your clit, drawing out the final waves of your orgasm.

Finally, when you couldn’t take it anymore, your hand fell away, and you lay there, breathing heavily, your body relaxing into the bed. Your room was quiet afterward, the only sound coming from was the sound of your own breathing. Then you heard him calling out your name, checking in. But through the post-orgasmic bliss, all you could manage in response was a giggle.

“You’re… laughing?” He mused. “Should I be concerned?”

“No, no,” you replied, still catching your breath, a satisfied smile spreading across your face. “It’s just… I can’t believe we did that.”

A gentle laugh escaped his lips, a warm, soothing sound that calmed your racing heart. "Did you like it?"

You liked it a lot. "Can’t say that I didn’t.”

"So I take it you're not mad at me anymore?"

You let out a soft, contented sigh. “I wasn’t even that mad to begin with. Just… frustrated,” you confessed. “But I think we handled that pretty well.”

“Maybe a little too well,” he agreed softly. “I can't believe I need to take a shower this late.”

You looked down between your legs at his words, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you as you noticed the patch of wetness on your bed. It wasn't small—it spread across the fabric in a noticeable, damp stain. “Uh, yeah,” you admitted with a nervous laugh. “I also need to change my sheets.”

Then you heard a low, almost pained groan from his end of the line.

“What?”

“It’s just…” He paused, and you could almost hear him struggling to find the right words. "I'm now picturing you on your bed."

"Isn't that what you've been doing?"

"Well, yes, but now it's… different."

You couldn't help the amused grin that spread across your face. "Different how?"

"Let's just say the image in my mind is a lot more detailed now and it's not helping me calm down."

A burst of laughter erupted from your chest as you gripped your phone closer to you. “Is this your way of blaming me because you still have a hard-on?” you taunted. “I mean, I’m simply stating the facts.”

“But you’re painting a picture in my head.”

“Of me drenching the sheets just by hearing your voice?”

He made a low, strained sound. “Stop.”

“I can send you a picture if you like,” you offered slyly. “Help you visualize it better.”

There was a moment of stunned silence on his end before he finally muttered, “You shouldn’t.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t.”

“But if you insist…”

You laughed softly. “Good night, Spencer.”

“Wait—You’re hanging up?”

“Yep,” you said cheerfully. “I thought you needed a shower.”

He made another frustrated sound, somewhere between a groan and a sigh, before reluctantly agreeing. “Fine, fine. Good night.”

And that was it. You ended the call with a satisfied smile. But as you stared at your phone, a rush of thoughts began to swirl through your mind. You were well aware of the potential risks of what you were about to do—how it could be traced back to you. You could almost hear Penelope lecturing you about online security and the dangers of leaving a digital footprint.

But when your mind kept circling back to Spencer—Spencer’s breathless voice, Spencer’s prominent veins on his hands, Spencer with a freaking hard-on in his bed—it was hard to think rationally. Before you could stop yourself, you propped your phone on your pillow and posed for the camera. Legs spread wide, your nipples pressing against your shirt, a flirtatious smile playing on your lips. The shot looked like it came out of a porno movie. You quickly sent it to him.

It took exactly 7 seconds before your phone rang again.

“Yes, Spencer?” you answered, trying to sound innocent.

You heard shuffling and a muffled grunt, and then, faintly, the rustling of fabric. It sounded like he was fumbling with his phone, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the frustration in his voice.

“How do I turn this into video call again?”

[grlsbstshot]

NEON LIGHTS

Pairing (Original Characters): 

Jameson Lucas (Aaron Pierre) x Imani St. Cirie (Megan thee Stallion) Genie Adesanya (Jayme Lawson) x Ellington "EJ" Dupree (Kelvin Harrison Jr.)

Story Synopsis: 

R&B singer/songwriter, Jameson Lucas, is well known as a charming playboy. The latest in his line of ‘loved em and left em’ behavior? Imani St. Cirie, an emotive singer/songwriter herself. As common sense pulls them in opposite directions – friendships are tested, old flames resurface, and new opportunities threaten to tear them apart for good. In this industry, dreams can make or break you – but what happens when love becomes the gamble of a lifetime? Chapter I // Chapter II // Special Edition // Chapter III // Special Edition Pt. 2 // Chapter IV

Chapter Synopsis: Jameson & Imani enjoy a brief reprieve in their relationship woes while EJ tries to run interference with Sloane -- who has plans of her own.

Warnings: smut (18+, minors dni), toxic relationship, possessiveness, sexual activity (fingering), dirty talk, profanity, explicit terminology, mentions of cheating – if we missed anything, let us know!

Word Count: 4.1k // Divider Template: @cafekitsune

Notes: The following characters are original creations. Their voice claims are Usher / Lucky Daye (Jameson) & Summer Walker / SZA (Imani). We have no affiliation to any of those artists.

There will be alternating POVs between our leads.

"you know this kind of fucked up, don't you?" imani spoke softly, her fingertips brushing against jameson's earlobe as he lay on her chest. he didn't say a word but she felt how his body tensed. finally, he nodded his head and sighed softly. the time was a mystery to her but she knew the dawn was creeping in on their moment. the night was gone and sunlight was going to chase the shadows away. it was now or never.

"i'm not ready to be with you again." she told him honestly. once again, jameson nodded but said no words. "but i want to be. i want you, jamie."

the words left her mouth easily despite how terrifying it was to put her trust into jameson's hands. she loved the man fiercely but it had been one disappointment after the next -- starting with his cheating. his infidelity had changed everything. it changed the way she looked at him, the way she moved when it came to him, and the way they loved each other.

everything was practically dripping in mistrust. how the fuck were they supposed to make a life with each other when everything stood against them?

"i want you too."

finally, he spoke. his voice was raspy with sleep, low in its tone. she had always loved his voice. whether he was singing to her or talking to her, jameson had the power to put her under a spell. even now, four words made part of her anxiety disappear. she had been afraid he'd push for more. imani knew she was in a vulnerable state but she also knew there was only so much trust she'd be willing to give him right then.

"i'ma earn you back though. i swear." jameson said softly, turning his head to press a kiss to the valley between her breasts. "go ahead and make me work for it, mama."

imani lifted her head from her pillow, peering down at him before rolling her eyes. there was a smile on her lips. he had passed one test. "be careful what you ask for."

the call continued to ring until he got the voicemail. genie's measured and warm tone filtering in through his ears. when he woke up the morning after their facetime date -- genie had disconnected the call. he gave her time to rest before trying to reconnect with her but genie was proving to be illusive. he couldn't get a hold of her. granted, it had less than twenty-four hours since they last spoke but...he was feenin for her. bad. it didn't matter that he told himself he'd never get involved with her...he still wanted her.

as he pulled the black card from his wallet and hung up the phone, the clicking of high heels against the marbled floor pulled him right back into the moment.

"ellington? i knew that was you!"

ej lifted his head and gave the woman a sideways glance. he hated being called by his full name. but of course sloane wouldn't know that because sloane didn't know a damn thing about him. he liked it that way. she was jameson's friend. not his.

"sloane." he greeted her primly, not giving off the impression that he wanted to chat with her. even though his greeting was short, sloane gave him a bright grin. the red lipstick on her plush lips was appealing. he wasn't a blind man. she was a gorgeous girl -- but he couldn't quite shake the fact that genie didn't like her for good reason. and what genie didn't like, he didn't like.

"it's got to be fate we met like this." she continued, taking a seat across from him as he continued the process of paying for his meal. ej waved the waitress over, slipping his card into the leather pouch and offering it to the woman.

"or you followed me here." ej said bluntly, leaning back in his chair. he watched as her brow rose and she laughed, giving toss of her hair. "somebody is full of himself."

"what can i do for you, sloane?" "nothing. i'm just looking for friendly conversation." "and yet -- you came to someone who is not your friend." "well, i would hang out with jamie but he's proving to be a hard man to get in touch with."

and there it was. the reason for her friendly behavior. jameson. when they first met, ej figured out pretty quickly that sloane had a crush on jameson hadn't hit. she was devoted and possessive. she found fault with everybody jamie found himself involved with. ej had seen her eyes follow him around several parties and events. he saw the longing in her. at first, he thought that jameson had slept with her. that was the only excuse he could think of for why she was so deeply entwined with his life. but jameson had denied it. genie and sloane were like family to him. but ej knew that friendship was not where sloane would put their relationship.

as jameson chased another woman halfway across the world -- he hadn't told sloane he was even gone. it was never going to be her but ej knew it wasn't his place to tell her that. the only way to get out of this conversation was to lie.

"you know how he is when it's down to wire. he locking in." ej could tell from the narrowing of her eyes that she did not believe him. too bad. he wasn't giving her shit else to go on. "he does have an album he needs to finish, you know?"

"without you?" sloane questioned as the waitress returned with ej's credit card. he gave the woman a polite smile before returning his attention to sloane.

"for a minute, yes. i have other shit i need to do." "like what?" "like mind my business." "ellington--" "are you done interrogating me?" "i wasn't. i was just --" "you were."

he was firm in his assertion. she wanted information and he wasn't giving it to her. he was watching her reaction so closely that he saw it when her face changed. she went from sociable and open -- charming even -- to agitated. it happened so quickly that he almost thought he imagined it. she seemed astonished that he didn't fall over himself to satisfy her curiosity. ej wondered just how many men jumped when she said 'how high'.

he could have gotten up and left but instead, he leaned forward and braced his elbows against the table. he was looking at sloane with brand new eyes.

"have you talked to genie? maybe she can let jameson know you're looking for him."

her eyes flashed with anger as she shook her head and ej filed that information away. she and genie were mutually against one another. it didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things -- but ej could tell it was deep.

"what's going on with you and her?" "me and who?" "you're not very good at playing dumb." genie scoffed, amazed at his attitude. "...you'll have to ask her" "seems like i need to ask you too. genie knows exactly where jameson is but you didn't call her. you came to ask me -- a man you barely know. why?"

sloane was quiet, her gaze steely. he knew she wouldn't tell him anything. ej slowly rose from the table, slipping his card into his wallet as he did so.

"jameson is where he wants to be, sloane. i don't know what's going on but i advise you to let him be for now. if you care about your friendship that is."

sloane watched him leave, a frown darkening her face. it really had been a coincidence running into ej. she recognized him immediately and thought she could at least get a message to jameson. her texts and voicemail had gone unanswered and she was starting to get a terrible feeling that wherever he was -- he was with imani.

she rose from the table, brushing her hair over her shoulder as she tried to pretend she wasn't embarrassed by the fact that ej had so thoroughly rejected her attempts at friendship. sure, it was conditional but he could have at least been a little kinder.

especially after she had made herself late for her actual lunch meeting to talk to him. she moved through the restaurant with haste. she knew where her companion would be based on the way other women kept craning their heads to get a good look at him.

christian mckay was one of the most eligible bachelors in her social circle. descendant from harlem renaissance legends, he had a lineage that screamed important. beyond that, he was 6'2, had a gorgeous dark skin tone, perfect angular nose, full lips, and perfect teeth that made his smile magnificent. if his physical wasn't enough, his personality was wonderful. he was thoughtful, considerate, and intelligent. if she weren't in love with jameson -- she could have fallen in love with him.

"i'm so sorry i'm late." sloane uttered breathily, approaching the table. christian didn't even glance up from the book in his hands, he simply stood and moved around the table to pull her chair out for her.

"looking forward to that explanation." he said softly, the timbre of his voice reminding her far too much of jameson's. sloane took a seat, waiting for him to do the same before she spoke. "i saw a friend and we got caught up."

christian retook his seat and slid his bookmark between the pages, setting the book aside as he finally got a good look at her. "you kept me waiting to gossip?" he asked her, tilting his head.

sloane gave him a smile, shrugging her shoulder. "it's not like you missed me. you were fully entertained. besides -- you're not here for me. you're here for imani. right?"

the mention of the woman they had in common made christian avert his gaze. it was no secret that he was infatuated with imani. from the moment they met, he had secretly harbored a crush. imani had never looked his way though -- because genie had been the one to fall for him first.

"what if i told you that she was single again?" christian brought his gaze back to her face and sloane knew she had him. "what if i could help you get what you want?"

christian was quiet for a moment before he found the words to speak. his voice was level, seemingly unaffected but she could tell from the way he leaned in that he was interested. "what's this about, sloane? i know you don't want to help out of the kindness of your heart. so what is this about?"

"jameson." sloane answered immediately and christian rolled his eyes.

"of course. i don't know what the fuck you both see in him." "can you not? i'm here to talk about you. just -- don't." "don't what? he's self-absorbed as fuck." "oh please. you're not better than jameson." "no? i don't lead you on and i don't lie to people i claim to love. and i'm sure as fuck not a cheater." "you fucked me while you were pretend dating genie for access to imani. i think that makes you worse than him."

there was silence that lay between them then felt like it stretched forever. she had so bluntly stated the truth. she and Christian were both stuck on people who were in love with each other. after one too many passive rejections from jameson and feeling like she was losing her best friend, genie, to imani...sloane had turned her sights to him.

they indulged and one night had single-handedly shattered a decade long friendship and genie's romantic interest in christian. the secret had stayed between them. sloane knew if jameson found out, he'd be pissed on genie's behalf. for some reason...the other girl hadn't told a soul. guilt was written all over christian's face but sloane didn't allow herself to feel anything at all about that night.

"you know it wasn't like that, sloane." "who cares? the point is...we're all fucked up and in glass houses. don't cast your stone at his -- or i'll start throwing stones at your house. now do you want imani or not?"

"imani? are you awake?"

genie knocked at her best friend's bedroom door, praying she didn't hear anything that signaled jameson was also awake. when she got to the suite, genie hesitated to use her key card to open the door. it was the day after she'd left jameson inside with her best friend but the space didn't seem disturbed. when she used her keycard to get into the luxury space, there was no broken furniture, no blood shed, and no body she had to help imani get rid of. the only other option was that the two had made up. good for them, bad for her.

the whole point of the trip was for imani to do promo while wearing genie's designs. it would be the boost she needed for a career nobody -- but imani -- believed in. genie knocked again, making the movement a little more forceful. this time, she heard shuffling and muffled conversation before imani's voice filtered out from behind the solid wood.

"i'm up...i'm up."

sleep drenched her voice and genie carefully twisted the knob. she prayed for her sanity and eyes before she shoved the door open. "good! let's get started. we have to prep you for today."

genie kept her gaze averted from the bed but figured if she started to move around the room, the two would at least have the decency to cover themselves up. she went to the closet and pulled a couple of dresses from the rack, ignoring the fact that the two seemed to be talking about her arrival.

"should we do the purple or the black and white?" genie called from the closet. "the purple design looks great on your skin but the black and white is my best." she steeled herself once more before heading out of the closet and facing the two people she loved most in the world. "we should do some test pics to -- seriously? mani! you're gonna be late."

genie lowered the dresses, staring at the two with a quirked brow. they hadn't moved from the bed. they were both fully covered -- thank god -- but imani was on her back giggling, jameson was laying over her. his teeth were nibbling against her earlobe and his hands were somewhere underneath the sheets.

jameson lifted his head, his gaze on genie's face. he wasn't laughing but she could tell he thought her annoyance was amusing. she had the strongest urge to kick him in his back. "who invited you in here?" genie's gaze narrowed as she tossed both dresses onto the bed. she saw imani's legs shift under the covers to avoid being hit with the dresses.

"who invited you? you aren't even supposed to be here!" "but i am. are you really going to stand in the way of true love?" "stand in the way? i let you in here!" "which i did not approve of..." imani interjected into their conversation. genie scoffed and folded her arms over her chest. "it looks to me like you approved all night long. thank god i got my own room." "maybe if you approved with someone all night long, you'd still be in bed and let us sleep a little longer." jameson suggested.

imani lifted her hand to smack his shoulder and he winced, rolling from on top of her. "i'm getting up, g. i swear. gimme a minute." genie knew exactly what that meant coming from her. especially with jameson involved. still. they had done what she wanted them to do -- find their way back to each other. genie had no idea what came next for them but jameson was right -- she didn't want to stand in the way of that.

genie hesitated before she turned to the door and made her way out. she stopped briefly only to turn and give jameson another glare. much to her surprise, he stuck his tongue out at her -- and got another smack against his chest as a reward for it. it was her turn to stick her tongue out -- and she did just that before walking out of the room and shutting the door behind her.

"why do you let her bully me?" jameson joked, looking at imani with a grin on his face. she looked so damn pretty at all times but especially like this. he'd seen her in the morning plenty of times in the years they were together but this was the first time in a year that he had woken up next to her. jameson couldn't do anything but feel grateful.

"because you deserve it. most of the time." she replied, crooking a finger in his direction to beckon him closer. "we got a minute."

jameson was sure it would be just that -- sixty seconds -- before genie burst into the door asking for them to separate. he tugged her body closer to his, resting on his side as he nuzzled his nose against hers. "so i've got sixty seconds to convince you to make time for me today?" his hand grazed along her hip, fingertips caressing against her thigh the further down he moved.

"my schedule is pretty tight." "i believe you. imani is always in demand. how can i get in?" "you gotta convince me. my time in rome is limited." "i just need an afternoon. maybe a few hours of the evening." "so we're taking major time? ooh. ion know if i have that for you."

"no?" jameson asked, pressing a gentle peck against imani's lips. "that's unfortunate. i had an incredible proposal to offer you." his words were accompanied by the light caress of his roaming fingertips. her skin was so soft, so warm. he couldn't help himself. jameson hitched her leg up to rest over his own as he kissed her softly.

"i don't believe you." imani mumbled through slow kisses, their tongues tangling and then back again. "show me."

he could feel her warm breath against his skin, anticipation making her breath hitch in her throat. the fact that she wanted him so badly only served to turn him on even more. jameson slipped his fingers between her legs -- a path he had taken numerous times before. he just couldn't get enough of her. she arched her back, offering herself up to him as jameson carefully rolled her to her back.

as his fingers pressed into her, she whimpered. he swallowed each one, slipping his tongue into her mouth to taste her. he didn't give a fuck that had licked and sucked one another dry the night before. that they hadn't even done the basic morning hygiene. his desire for her outran any other sense.

with each flick of his tongue, his fingers grew bolder and imani's moans grew louder. though still muffled by his own mouth, jameson knew it was only a matter of time before he couldn't keep her quiet anymore. he lifted his head, gazing down at her. lust was written all over her face. her eyes were low, jaw dropped as he finger fucked her into bliss.

"you so goddamn wet," he muttered, his voice low and husky. "if i had the time, i'd spread these legs and fucked you until they started shaking." imani moaned out, her hands grasping at his shoulder and forearm. she hadn't said a word but he could tell she liked what he was saying...so he kept talking.

he shifted his thumb between her legs, using it to tap against her swollen clit. he could feel when a wave of pleasure hit her because she clenched over his fingers. jameson sighed happily, watching as she squirmed and thrashed underneath him. "that's right. get it, baby. take what you want."

her arousal leaked out of her pussy, covering his fingers and down to his damn wrist. her thighs were clenched around his hand but she couldn't control his fingers. he curled them, watching her face for the moment he found that exact spot. he shifted his fingers inch by inch until her brows furrowed and her eyes glazed over as she rode his hand harder. "that's it right there?" he asked her. imani didn't respond, her eyes shut tightly as she panted her way towards orgasm. "you don't hear me talking to you?"

jameson's free hand brushed against her hair, fingertips tangling in the strands as he leaned in to bite her lower lip. "i asked you...if this is the spot you like?" as he spoke, he rocked his hand hard against it -- bringing a yelp from her mouth.

"yes! fuck! that's it. j-jamie..." she cried out, breaking away from his mouth.

jameson grinned when she spoke, kissing her cheek softly. "good girl. see? i told you this was a good proposal. ain't it good, baby?" the sheets were cool but her body was overheated and warm as they rocked together. he was hard as hell but he didn't try to replace his fingers with his dick -- he focused on her. imani's hands roamed over his back, her hands grazing against the tattoo on his shoulder and the one on his neck.

"i good. i mean -- mhm! it's good, daddy. it's so good." she whimpered, her head slumping to the right as she lost control of her body. he could feel her getting closer to the edge. her hips arched from the bed in desperation and jameson had some kind of mercy on her. he didn't stop. he licked his tongue across her lips, whispering lowly. "show me what that pussy can do, mama. give it to me."

no sooner than he finished speaking did her eyes roll back in her head. her nails dug into his skin tightly as he pumped in and out of her. her body was so tight and tense that he had to soothingly brush his fingers through her hair and tell her to relax. she came hard and fast, twisting and turning until the orgasm drained her.

"fuck me." she whispered, pulling him down into a kiss. it would have been easy for jameson to do it. he'd forgotten all about genie waiting for her or whatever work shit she had to do. he wanted to fuck her...but he wanted to spend time with her more.

jameson shook his head, giving her a bright grin as he shook his head. "naaaah. not now anyway but if you want to make time for me later..." he let his words trail off, carefully pulling his fingers from between her legs. imani narrowed her eyes at him but jameson seemed unphased. he began to lick and suck his fingers clean as she watched -- a grunt leaving his mouth. "taste good as fuck too." he told her, forcing himself to roll away from her.

imani reached for him, attempting to pull him back by the arm but jameson quickly rolled out of bed. naked with his dick practically standing up, he pulled the covers back to see her body. that would have to do until later. "am i gonna see you later?" he asked her. imani glared at him. he knew she was petty enough to say no but instead she nodded slowly.

"good. you should get up. you don't want to be late." jameson remarked, grinning as he made his way to the bathroom to get rid of his damn hard on.

[rainofthetwilight]

HAPPY DRAGONS RISING S2 EVE JSJFJWJWNDJ

I wanted to draw smth for it so have the blorbies ever, sora and riyu <3333 (used this as an opportunity to test out some new brushes too, also can you tell I can't draw dragons)

it's literally april 4 for me rn, it's like almost 2 am now, I'm so excited AGHFHFHFN (sucks that I got my arabic tutor coming at 2 pm 😭😭 I literally wake up at 11 dude I won't even finish DRs2 before she comes ughhh)

[lunaa-runee]

Constant Reminder

cw: Mafia AU, no curses, suggestive content, afab reader, major character death, hurt - no comfort

wc: 1.3k

The dimly lit room hummed with pulsating energy. Men dressed in fine suits filled the room, surrounded by a sea of scantily clad women who seemed to ooze seduction and desperation in equal measures. Amidst this lively scene, Kento sat alone at a corner table, his piercing gaze cutting through the haze of cigarette smoke as he nursed a glass of whiskey.

As the night wore on and drinks flowed freely, Kento's carefully cultivated network of informants worked their magic, extracting juicy secrets from unsuspecting businessmen. With each tidbit of information, Kento's power grew stronger, his influence reaching every corner of the city. This was his game - manipulating and controlling those around him through their deepest desires and darkest indiscretions. And he played it well, earning him the reputation of one of the city's most powerful men.

A hand lightly grazed against his shoulders, and he did his best to ignore it. But the woman, who owned the hand, was persistent as she planted herself on his lap. While most men would have welcomed such an opportunity, Kento was not one of them. He had to use all his self-control to keep from pushing her off of him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing," he grumbled.

"Kento," she purred into his ear, wrapping her arms around his neck. She leaned closer to him, exposing more of her chest as a blatant attempt at seduction.

Kento's eyes narrowed in a cold, stern glare." You should be working, we're busy."

"It's my night off." Daisy's finger, adorned with delicate red nail polish, glides over the contours of Kento's muscular chest

Daisy initially came to Tokyo for school but quickly became entangled in his world. Despite her attraction towards the underground businessman, he had no interest in being around her. His heart still belonged to someone who was no longer with him.

Kento's patience was growing thin, and his tone reflected this: "If you aren't working, you should go home. There's no point in staying here if you're not going to be useful to me."

Daisy pouted at his harsh tone, but her determination remained unshaken. As she leaned down to him, her lips trailed gentle kisses along his skin. "Why don't we sneak away to one of the private rooms and indulge in some playful fun?" she whispered seductively in his ear.

Kento's composure shattered in that instant. He forcefully pushed Daisy off his lap, her body crashing onto the hard floor. Her face twisted in shock. "Get out," he growled.

Fear took over her eyes, realizing her mistake in that moment. Quickly, she gathered herself, leaving his sight. She was at least smart enough to know he was not a man to test.

"How you can be so mean to such a beautiful woman I will never understand."

Kento sat back in his chair and tilted his head to better view his friend and business partner, who seemed to have materialized out of nowhere. "I didn't know you were going to be here Gojo. What do I owe this pleasure?"

"Can't a man just drop by to see his old pal?" Kento's narrowed gaze showed he knew there was probably some hidden purpose behind his visit. Gojo clicked his tongue, aware that Kento would likely brush him off anyway. He looked around the bustling club as another lucky guy was pulled towards the door that led to the private rooms. "I don't understand how you could turn down these poor girls who throw themselves at you."

"I'm not interested."

"You're seriously still hung up on that girl? It's been nearly two years."

Kento's chest tightened as he was overcome with bittersweet memories. The face of his former lover appeared in his mind, bringing back intense feelings of pain that time had failed to soften. He hadn't thought about her in a long time; she used to be the light in his life and motivated him to become a better person. However, he had waited too long to make changes.

The cool ocean breeze brought a new day through the open French doors. The sun shined softly through the window, illuminating the room with golden rays. Kento's gaze took in the sight of you sleeping peacefully on the bed. The thin sheet barely covered your form, revealing the beautiful marks scattered across your skin, a testament to your night of passion.

How did he get so lucky?

Almost three years had passed since you entered his life unexpectedly on a Tuesday afternoon. He had stopped at a nearby bakery to grab a quick lunch, exhausted and stressed from his day. In his haste, he wasn't paying attention and didn't notice you as he turned around, colliding with you.

He sighed and bent down to begin picking up his dropped items. He could hear your apologies, but when he looked up at you to tell you to stop apologizing, his whole world shifted in that moment like the air had been forced out of his lungs. You were the most stunning woman he had ever laid his eyes on.

He fell for you, hard.

He was a prominent figure in a notorious crime organization, and you were an ordinary individual who lived a quiet life. But he selfishly pursued you despite the dangers to you.

He went to great lengths to conceal his true profession and maintain distance between you and his more illicit dealings in the organization to keep you safe. But you were observant, and he had to come clean about everything to you. To his surprise, you stayed by his side, though you clearly disapproved of his work.

You sense Kento's eyes on you as you stir from your sleep. "Quit being so creepy," you mutter in your exhausted state.

Kento chuckled at your usual morning attitude. "Can't a man admire his beautiful girlfriend?"

You playfully smacked his arm, to which Kento only chuckled, "That hurt."

You rolled your eyes at his antics. "Oh please."

Kento embraced you, holding your body close to his. He nestled his face into the curve of your neck. "I love you," he murmured.

"I love you too," you whispered before a comfortable silence fell between you. The only sounds were the crashing waves and the chirping birds outside the open windows. Time seemed to stand still as you lay there, basking in each other's presence. But eventually, reality set in. "I have to leave for work soon."

"Don't go," he begged. "Quit. Be with me."

You sat up and lightly kissed Kento on the cheek before getting up to make your way towards the bathroom. "You know I can't."

Kento's heart ached as he recalled the last morning he spent with you. If he had known what would happen, he would have kept you in bed that morning. Instead, he was blinded by his happiness, oblivious to the dangers lingering in the background. As tears threatened to spill from his eyes, he couldn't help but replay the painful memories of that fateful day over and over again in his mind.

Gone.

The word echoed mercilessly in his mind, a cruel mantra of agony and disbelief.

The doctor's condolences were empty words, futile attempts to soothe the wildfire of emotions raging through Kento that day. He felt it all - raw, unbridled rage burning in his veins, gut-wrenching grief clawing at his heart, a sense of betrayal that threatened to consume him whole.

In an instant, his entire future shattered into a million pieces. The dreams of leaving the mafia behind and building a new life with you are all gone. It was too late. You were taken from him, a victim of his world.

Your blood would forever be on his hands, a constant reminder of his love's tragic end.

[imtrashraccoon]

@owl-bones

First, Previous, & Next Day

Bad Sansuary II: Horror - Careful

Word Count: 901

This was a strange situation. You couldn't move, being pinned beneath a bear of a skeleton, not knowing what he would do next. You were certain that he wasn't in his right mind. Earlier, he had intended to attack or otherwise harm you, but something had changed his mind. Now he was all but cuddling you, as if you were a beloved pet or something.

While his demeanor had turned non-aggressive for the moment, you didn't trust that it would last. His teeth were basically pressed against your jugular and you feared he could snap at any moment. Your heart felt like it was beating a mile a minute and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, threatening to flow freely.

You needed to do something.

"Maul..." you whispered, trying to keep your voice from trembling.

He shifted ever so slightly, but whether it was from the sound of your voice or recognizing his name, you couldn't be sure.

"Do you remember me? I'm Scout... I'm not your enemy, we're allies... We've been working together for months." You paused for a moment before adding, "We're...we're friends..."

He lifted his head, making eye contact with you. His eyelight was trained on your face, taking in every detail of your expression. It quivered for a moment and then he let out a slow exhale.

"we're...friends...?"

At first, you didn't know how to respond. It was true that you were friendly, but you didn't know if he saw you as a true friend. You were soldiers in arms; if anything happened to him, you would have his back. To actually be friends with someone was deeper.

Truthfully, you had had very few friends in your life, as being a soldier meant that you couldn't afford to grow too attached to your comrades. It was possible that Maul also had this mindset. The last thing you wanted to do was lie about something so serious, but what choice did you have right now?

You slowly nodded. "Yes... We're friends. We trained together and whenever you make a new recipe, you ask me to taste test it."

He blinked and sat up, although didn't move off of you. He had a confused expression on his face, which only increased as he looked around the campsite.

"friends..." he rumbled, as if the word sounded foreign on his non-existent lips.

Taking the opportunity, you crawled out from under him, your paw brushing against your walking stick, which you used to get up. You kept your eyes trained on him, even as you moved out of his immediate reach.

He turned to look at you again, his eyelight zeroing in on your injured ankle. "you're hurt..." he remarked.

"Yes, I twisted my ankle earlier today. You actually helped me wrap it up. Do you remember?"

He stood up and went to take a step closer, but paused when you flinched and tried to move away. His good eye socket widened before he lowered himself to take a seat on a log next to the fire. Against your better judgement, you took a seat across from him.

After a long moment of silence, Maul made a noise of clearing his throat. "how'd we meet?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, um, we were actually enemies when we first met." When he showed no sign of recognition, you continued speaking, "I was ordered to destroy the Dark Fortress with a few others, but I defected and decided to stay."

Maul nodded thoughtfully but he didn't look like he actually remembered. "...where's orien?"

You frowned and tilted your head, trying to recall anyone by that name. "I'm sorry, I don't know who that is."

His shoulders drooped and his gaze fell to the ground. He ran his phalanges over his skull and down his face. You winced as his claws hooked into his dead eye socket, but if it caused pain, he didn't react.

"Can...can I ask who Orien is?"

He sighed heavily, "my brother..." He trailed off, staring into the flames for a moment. "i don't remember where he went..." he finally murmured.

You pressed your lips together into a thin line. Maul did have memory troubles, thanks to the large crack in his skull, and often had to be reminded what was going on. On top of this, he regularly ignored or shut down any attempts to weasel information about himself or his past.

It was possible whatever had happened to him out in the woods had made him forget more than usual. It could explain why he'd been randomly hostile too. He really didn't know where he was or what was going on.

"Hey," you waited until he looked up before continuing to speak. "How about I explain what I know about why you're out here. Maybe it will help jog your memory?"

When he nodded, you proceeded to do just that. You told him about the others, what the Dark Fortress was like, how Donovan sent them to investigate the city, how they had set up camp, and how Maul had opted to stay behind as he wasn't the sneaky type.

The longer you spoke, the more engrossed he seemed to become. The whisps of purple energy slowly faded away and he actually began to relax. He still looked sad but now he also began to seem tired. You didn't blame him though; tonight had been a rough one.

[live-laugh-lenney]

Hey do you think you could write something like maybe Arthur hill girlfriend going to the mummy’s boy podcast show maybe making an appearance on stage then going out with Arthur George and Arthur afterwards all good if not thanks x

i love the idea of yn going on their significant other's podcasts and being a guest on an episode... we definitely need to expand on this idea...

she was their very first guest on the podcast.

sat at the dining table in lisa's kitchen, with the podcast equipment set up around them, as they were still trying to find their feet and the way they wanted to introduce the podcast episodes themselves. at a time when they were still brand-new to the podcast genre and they were testing out different ways to keep people engaged and as well as humoured.

so it only felt right for her to appear during the live show in london for an exciting night in the timeline of the podcast; not that she would have missed it for the world.

in the dressing room, she could hear the crowd for the night getting busier and busier as it neared the set time they were due out on the stage and she couldn't seem to shake the nerves that had her hands shaking and her legs bouncing. her bottle of water left on the table, alongside her phone and her belongings, and she couldn't keep her mind focused on anything happening around her.

being arthur's girlfriend had her in strange situations; especially for a girl who wasn't in the same line of work. where she worked a typical 9 to 5 job, that had her commuting in the early hours and getting home during rush hour, arthur seemed to live a life that was more sporadic and spontaneous as opposed to organised and scheduled. touring, making appearances on people's youtube channels, being given the opportunities that even had him rubbing his eyes in amazement.

"i thought i was supposed to be the nervous, socially awkward one of all of us tonight," arthur frederick spoke as he sat beside her on the sofa, a bottle of beer in his hand that was on the verge of being done before they took to the stage, "you're scared?"

"a little, i guess. this is the first proper public thing we've done as a couple," yn says as she watches her boyfriend finish getting ready in the corner of the dressing room, "we've been seen out together and people have seen me at his shows but..."

"but this is different to all of that," arthur finishes for her and she nods softly, "it never gets easier for me being so public but i usually feel a lot more at ease when i'm with these guys. you know what it's like."

"i think it's just the pre-stage jitters," yn laughs softly, looking up at the clock on the wall and seeing it nearing even closer, "i'm sure we'll be okay out there. it's not like people don't know who we are or have never seen us before."

"i reckon most people are here for you and lisa anyway," george says and drags his chair across the carpeted floor beneath him, reaching over to squeeze her knee reassuringly, "it'll be fun. just think about us all being in the same room together, without the audience in front of us. nothing different to how we're like around a dinner table."

yn smiles softly and nods in agreement; she was fussing over nothing and she knew it would be a walk in the park. they made her feel at ease, they made her feel comfortable and arthur wouldn't have asked her to be a guest if he didn't think she could do it.

"right, stop fussing over my lady and let me at her," arthur insists and brushes passed george to pull yn from her seat, holding her hands tightly in his, "you have nothing to be worried over. you'll be great out there."

"don't make a fool of me," yn warns him and he holds his hands up in surrender, "arthur."

"i won't, i promise. can't say the same for those two rotten scoundrels over there," arthur shook his head with a smirk on his mouth and she snickers softly, "just give it back to them as they give it to you. like the audience isn't there."

and he was right.

on stage, she sat in between lisa and mr television for the first half of the show. and it somehow made her feel more at ease knowing that her and arthur were a little more social awkward in these situations and that they were able to comfort each other. the enjoyment of the night seemed to progress and she felt herself loosen up a lot more than she had done by the end of the first half of the show compared to when she stepped foot on the stage at the beginning and she was eager to get back out once the first half had concluded.

by the end of the show, she didn't want it to end.

saying goodbye to those who had spent the last hour and a half in the audience, listening to her as she waffled on when giving advice and watching the group of them tease and joke around with each other, she was both pleased and upset that it had come to an end.

pleased because she could feel herself becoming overwhelmed with how people had welcomed her in. pleased because people actually liked her and loved to see her and arthur interact as a couple. pleased because, as fun as it was, she needed to come down off of the high that she was feeling.

"now, how did you find that?" arthur questions her as she squeezes his hand reassuringly, allowing george and arthur and lisa to walk on ahead to allow them the chance to linger behind, "you were great out there. people loved you."

"it was still nerve-racking though," she whines softly and looks up at him with a softening look in her eyes, "i did it but don't make me do it again for a while."

"don't fancy coming out and doing a solo on the tour then?"

she shakes her head rapidly and he laughs at her reaction.

"are you sure? think we could do a good duet, maybe we could do a bit of dolly parton and kenny rogers since you did such a brilliant impression of her during your improv out there," he snickers and she could feel her cheeks heating up, "i'm kidding, i'm kidding." xx

[second-axis-point]

could you write Joel being awkward and blushy while male reader praises him? love your work 😙😙

Pairing: Joel Miller x Male!Reader

Warnings: None!

Content: Praise, Fluff, Soft!Joel, Touch Starved!Joel

Sorry for yet another little brake. I have had awful writer's block and just had no motivation. But I'm back and I hope you enjoyed this! ����Thanks for the request! 💙

Under Your gaze

You had been experimenting for about a month now. You had been testing what could make Joel blush. So far brash flirting and gift giving had no effect. You were starting to get a bit frustrated. So you tried something different. Praise. Joel had made dinner that night and you thought that was the perfect time to start. After cleaning your plate you sat back and looked over at him.

“That was amazing Joel, you should cook more often.”

He glanced back at you, avoiding your eyes, and nodded. You could see the corners of his mouth twitch upward. You got up and walked back to the living room, brushing his shoulder on the way out. You heard his breath hitch slightly. Test number one’s results looked promising.

The next day, you found another opportunity rearing its head. He had just gotten out of the shower and was towelling his hair dry. Once he tossed the towel into the laundry basket, he walked out to where you had been laying back and reading. He stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips, seemingly lost in thought.

“Lookin’ good Joel. That a new shirt?”

You tossed a lopsided grin his way and watched closely. The tips of his ears were pink but you couldn’t tell if that was from the shower or from you.

“Yeah it is, Tommy got it for me.”

He mumbled. You sat up and put your book down.

“Blue suits you.”

Another smile and Joel ducks his head down. He gave a quick and quiet thank you before shuffling into the kitchen. Test number two looked just as promising.

Over the next few days, you tried to compliment him at every opportunity you could. You give kudos to his shooting, his cooking, his smile, his clothing, his music taste, and anything else you could imagine. By the end of the week you had finally gotten Joel to blush fully. It didn’t take much really. He was so used to going without any kind of affection, that just the slightest hint of it would get him to blush like a lovesick teenager. All you had to do was compliment his new haircut and he was putty in your hands.

You were walking down the streets of Jackson before running into him. He was stepping out of the stables and jogged over to meet you as soon as he laid eyes on you. His haircut wasn’t much different, just a bit shorter, but he looked great. You turned to look at him and beamed.

“Damn Miller! And I thought the shaggy look suited you. Love the new haircut.”

Your smoothe voice cut through the chilly weather. You reached a hand up and brushed it through his hair. His face lit up and his cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. He closed his eyes and leaned a bit closer. Joel had to physically hold back a whine when he felt your warm hand leave his head.

“I knew I'd get you eventually.”

You laughed and nudged him with your shoulder. Joel looked confused.

“I’ve been tryin’ to get you to blush for a month.”

You kept walking, Joel following close behind.

“So that’s why you've been so nice to me.”

He looked disappointed, his shoulders hunched slightly.

“No, I said all of those things cause they're true. You gettin’ all flustered was just a bonus.”

You walked up to your shared apartment and unlocked the door. You gazed back at him, signalling for him to go in first. He nodded and sort of hid his face in his scarf before walking in. The both of you started to strip off your outerwear, hanging up your coats and putting your boots by the door.

You walked over and sat on the couch with your head back and your eyes closed. You heard Joel moving around. The noise stopped and you opened your eyes to see him standing in front of you. He surprised you by climbing into your lap. He found a comfortable position, his head buried in your neck. You wrapped your arms around his waist and traced patterns on his back.

“Y’know I really did mean all the things I said.”

You said quietly. You felt him nod.

“Can I see your face?”

He hesitated a moment before slowly sitting back. His face was still a bit red and he avoided looking into your eyes, his gaze fixed on your shirt. You reached up and took his chin between your fingers.

“There you are. So pretty. Look at you.”

You smile, genuine and warm. He finally meets your eyes. You start repeating all the compliments you could remember giving him that week. He squirmed in your lap, somehow getting more and more flustered. He seemingly couldn’t take all the praise, pulling his face from your hand and burying it back into your neck. You went quiet for a moment.

“Do you want me to stop?”

You questioned, not wanting to overstep a boundary. He shook his head no but didn’t say anything else.

“Use your words, handsome.”

“No. Keep going. Please.”

He mutters into your shoulder. You do just that. You continue your praise, rubbing his back. He grips at your shirt and wriggles in your embrace. You couldn’t believe that you had the big bad Joel Miller, flustered and squirming in your lap. You couldn’t imagine a better place to be.

[faithhearted]

@honorhearted {x}

Lola had dealings with all sorts of clients with all sorts of different demeanors, expectations, and kinks, but the soldier's reaction of distaste was a bit of a new one for her. Maybe wearing the shako, as Brew.ster had so gleefully suggested, was a little too much after all.

Disinterested in their quarrel, Lola shamelessly snooped through the items on the Major's campaign chest, testing the scent of a half-used cologne bottle, inspecting the pomade, and toying with the soft bristles of a shaving brush in the opened kit.

It was rather disappointing to see that there was nothing of value for her to swipe. And here she'd thought this particular soldier was one of important rank. Perhaps she'd been wrong.

Finally, she heard a thunderous "Get her out!" That's when he turned toward her with a remorseful expression, "I'm so sorry that this l.obcock has wasted your time, but your services here are no longer required."

"Suit yourself," she shrugged. Either way, she'd already been paid.

"Whoa, whoa, I paid good money for this, and for a full hour!" Caleb interjected, as though reading her mind, "Lola, darlin', you just stay right there. He's a p.reacher's boy, so you know how it goes -- 'pissy 'n' pious jitters' and all that."

Normally, this is where she would have cooed, uttered a sentiment about his stage fright, and reassured him in an attempt to coax him into bed, but she managed to catch a glimmer of something in his eyes that told her to use a different tactic. The usual wouldn't work on him. He wasn't just a man in need of a fuck because he was horney. Rather, he was a man in need of one because he was in heartache.

That was something she could work with.

Prompting conversation was the right path here. Lola didn't like to brag (yes, she did), but she was a true delight in conversation. Contrary to popular belief, she actually did spend most of her time talking with her clients. Besides, that often meant more opportunities for further pay.

"Thank you, Lieutenant, but I believe the Major and I can take it from here. If he doesn't wish to fuck me, then he needn't get his pego wet. I'm afraid you won't be taking your coin back though. Sorry, no refunds."

Despite his clear nature to protest, one look from Major Tall.madge and Brew.ster reluctantly retreated, muttering as he took his leave.

"Don't be too cross with him, sir. He meant well," Lola reassured, offering a coy little pout, "But regardless, he did pay for a full hour, so if you'd rather talk, my ears are yours to bend."

Her euphemism prompted an unabashed smirk.

[loveasachoice]

I'm back with a character I adopted! This absolute cutie is a Grumpig — Oinkologne Pokémon hybrid! She's glamorous but grumpy, always has a slightly sour opinion & assumes everyone wants her autograph, but means well!

I also used this opportunity to test out a couple new brushes, since I'm still feeling out CSP. The ink pen is nice but not totally my style. The pearls, though? New favorite brush.

─── -ˋˏ☀️ˎˊ- ───

₊˚⊹♡₊ CREDIT ˚⊹♡

➳❥ Design adopted from @/naturenut190 on DA.

➳❥ The rights to this character & this art belong to me. Do not repost, edit, trace, etc without my permission. Do not use with AI in any way or as an NFT.

[flabby-flattie-fatties]

Zeri and Lena have a race, who wins?

An unlikely meeting.

As the stars and the planets aligned, for a few hours, two dimensions connected with each other.

At first, both sides were quite puzzled, one more than the other. However, as the sudden impact faded away, more friendships started to shine.

None, however, were as intense as that of Lena and Zeri. Both women were major fitness freaks, telling tales about how they outran entire vehicles, times where they made fun of enemies while dancing around them, truthfully something to be said about their more jokey and cocky nature.

However, something else they shared was their completely obliviousness to their gain. Lena was in sort of denial that would puzzle even the best of psychologists, meanwhile, Zeri knew she had gone up in weight, however, she never fully realized how much, in her eyes she was simply getting energy stored for when she would actually lose weight.

Both looked at the woman in front of them, thinking how someone who used to be so fit could get so absurdly big, being thankfully that they weren't like them.

It was then that a group of women approached them. Two chunky girls and a tall slender woman, all three with a massive smirk on their face.

“It's nice to see you're making new friends, Zeri" Vayne said with a smug smile as she took a sip of her drink.

“As soon as these lovely ladies told me about you, I knew you and miss Oxton would get along. However, I can help but think that this a perfect chance for a once in a lifetime opportunity"

“Race race race race!!" Shouted the chunky girl dressed in a cat suit "You're both, like, suuuper speedy rum rum! Wouldn't it be fun if you both ran against the other and made this super big energy tornado or something?"

“I greatly disagree with that hypothesis, however, I do agree that seeing you both test your limits would be amusing" the taller woman as she pointed towards the race track.

Both obese women looked at each other, they really didn't feel like running today, however, seeing just how big their opponent was, they decided it was worth a shot, maybe it would be the wakeup call the other needed to start a diet.

“I'm game, I never back down from a challenge"

"Well, be prepared to eat my dust!" Lena said with a big grin, as both shook hands and headed off to the track... Not before finishing off their meal, energy for the race and all.

As they got to the track, both women were already sweating slightly; the battle bunny girl taking deep breaths as she brushed off the sweat from her brow, meanwhile, Lena was resting against her knees, her booty sticking out of her leggings, but she was too tired to get them back up.

“Alright, we don't want to make this too long, so it will be only one lap. First to come back to the starting point wins” Vayne said as she raised a flag in the air. Then, as soon as she brought it down, the race began.

Well, race was a bit of an understatement, it was more of a rapid waddle.

This track would've been nothing for Zeri and Lena back in their prime, the race would've been over in a minute at most. Now? Already 30 seconds had passed and they had barely even left the starting point.

The sounds of heavy breathing and wheezing filled the air, as both women waddled as fast as their chunky legs could take them. Rolls smacking against rolls, shirts ridding up, exposing all that pale flabby lard quaking and wobbling like the flag in a storm.

Sweat poured down their entire bodies, their faces red from exhaustion, their once toned legs now having lost every ounce of muscle they once had, stuck in a life of pure laziness, being left unused sometimes for entire days in a row.

Moira, Vayne, and Jinx were more than able to keep up with the wobbling butterballs even while slowly walking, meanwhile, the others were going at their top speeds.

It didn't take long before both of them needed a breather having to stop, not even a quarter of the way in, already having "ran" for 2 minutes straight. Enough to make the piggies ready to pass out.

However, they had nothing to fear, as their little helpers were ready to come to their aid.

Moira walked up to Lena, making sure to free her belly from under her leggings and lifting her shirt up, letting all that lard ventilate. She pushed a cinnamon roll past her lips, Tracer barely even registering it, she was so tired she was pretty much in autopilot.

Meanwhile, Jinx and Vayne we're making sure their bunny was as stuffed as she could be. They rubbed her belly as they fed her drink after drink, shoving slices of Sarah's "special" carrot cake, whispering to her ear how good she was being, causing her to just keep eating.

After the little pit stop was over, the race continued. At first, despite both of their pathetic performances, Zeri had been in the lead, mostly due to her lower weight. However, after being stuffed so much, the poor girl was struggling to carry her belly around as "fast" as she did before.

She was letting out burps and hiccups between her heavy breaths, having to rub her swollen belly every few steps just to try to calm down.

Lena took this chance, however, it wasn't ever to catch up. Her stamina was laughable, even just a tiny little sprint made her legs feel like they were on fire; she was gaining ground, but it was like a single step every 30 seconds.

After 8 minutes, 4 of which must have been spent resting and "restoring energy", the race was coming to a close. Both girls were neck and neck, their hearts beating a thousand times a minute, their breath being shallowed, their body ready to give up. Both just wanted to crash down and stuff themselves with something greasy or sugary for days to come; however, their ego proved too strong.

In the final seconds, Zeri had to stop, her belly was too stuffed to give another step right now, and at that moment, Lena's hefty gut crossed the finished line first.

Both women collapsed on the floor, their bellies sticking out in the air as their sweaty bodies tried to recover.

“Great work Oxton, I knew there was no way our top athlete would lose that” Moira said as she approached, rubbing and kneading the others gut as she gently fed her more and more food. The obese Brit glad to see she was still top of the top, and even happier to finally have some food.

“Don't worry Zeri, you'll get her next time. I guess that just means you have to bulk up more"

“Yeah Sparks, just relax and let us help you get that runner bod again" Jinx and Vayne said as they rubbed her body, her wobbly arms, her small chest, all the while feeding her more and more cake. Zeri wanted to say something, but she didn't have the air to let words out. She simply nodded as she kept eating.

[spider-man-199999]

Web love || Spider-Man 4

Summary: Spider-Man saved you that one time when you needed him and now he comes and checks up on you every single day. 

Author's note: I'm honestly so demotivated to write this part since the whole series flopped and idk why

previously on web love: part 1 part2  part 3 

this pic is a representation of how Peter feels about his mixed feeling in this fic 

      "...Life often times opens doors we never really expected to ever be open. And often times these new opportunities lead us to experiencing things we never have dreamed of. And these experiences shape us into the person we become. But sometimes the person we see in the mirror is not the person we want to be. Taking particular roles in life bring us misery, especially when we are not mentally prepared to meet other's expectations for this "social role". And now that we have grown up, we have gone this far, who do we owe it to? When you look back on your life you realize that it's not the groundbreaking turning point that has made us who we are but it was the little everyday things like meeting someone new, doing things you have never done before and generally having the courage to put yourself out there in the world are actually the things that really change us. Those are the things that speak for us the loudest in society and those are the things to which I owe who I am now." Peter's voice rang in the classroom as he read his English essay, his palms sweaty and his cheeks rosy. After he finished his speech the teacher thanked him and told him to sit down and as he walked down to this seat he flipped Ned off, who was filming him with his phone the whole time. 

"What are you doing, nuthead?" Peter whispered to him 

"I'm going to send this to Y/N, she helped you write that and wanted me to tell her how it went. But we live in the 21st century so I thought it would be better to show her instead''

"Sure, fine, even though I probably look like a dumbass-" he started saying as the teacher shushed them. Peter shook his head, getting a text from you. 

Killsforpills: So, I heard the reading went well.

Spywalker: Not bad, not bad 

Killsforpills: PUBG after school?

Spywalker: I have work

Killsforpills: Ok, I'll be playing if you decide to join at some point

After the last time Spider-man had come to visit he had vanished once again. You would spend most of your free time just playing videogames and doing school work. Keeping your thoughts occupied was the best way for your to not go insane after everything. Deadpool stopped showing up as well, which left you thinking that maybe this insanity was finally over for good. Maybe it was time to turn the page and try to find a boyfriend or something. Everyone around seemed occupied with someone else, Peter and MJ, Ned and some girl from their school. You felt left out, crying yourself to sleep more times than you would wish for. 

                                                             **

Spidey, of course, was not happy about the fact either. He would always check up on you when he could, come see you as much as possible. The issue was that he felt like he had made a really big mess when he visited the last time. He was feeling like a hot mess as well, all these things happening to him. The pressure of being Spider-man, the guilt of lying to MJ about his feelings, the pain from seeing you hurt. It was all piling up, making him slowly lose his mind in all the stress. He would get injure more often than before, do worse on his test. He even seemed to space out often enough to make Ned and MJ worried about him. He would brush it off and tell them not to pay him attention ‘’it’s just superhero things’’ he would say and put on a fake smile for them. It got to the point where Ned had to call and make you try and get something out of him 

“You have to call him and make him play a game together! Please, he refuses to talk to us! We need you to find something out....’‘ Ned whined through the phone, convincing you to help him.

“I don’t mean to be rude but why don’t you ask MJ? She’s his girlfriend, surely she’ll get more out of him than me.”

“We tried everything, you’re our last hope! Maybe he needs someone he doesn’t see every single day to open up to! Just try, ok?’‘ 

‘‘Ok, fine, I’ll try’‘ You agreed with a sigh escaping your lips. 

The ringing sound was filling your ear as you had already dialed Peter, trying to reach him. After a few rings you gave up on the call, throwing your phone on the bed behind you and messaging Ned. 

Killsforpills: He’s not picking up

Iamfriendswithsidey: Call him again. PLEASE

Killsforpills: Surely he would have picked up if he wanted to talk, maybe he’s busy.

You heard the vibrations from behind you, turning to see Peter calling you. Rushing to pick up you stumbled in the bed, groaning as you hit your leg and rolled on the bed, picking up.

‘‘Hey, you called’‘ You barely heard the boy’s voice from what seemed like wind 

‘‘Yeah, I was wondering if you wanted to play some Minecraft, ouch’‘

“What’s wrong?’‘

‘‘Fuck, um nothing, I hit my leg in the bed and it’s bleeding’‘ 

‘‘I’ll be over in a bit’‘ 

‘‘Wait, I....’‘ he had already hung up. 

You felt kind of bad, maybe he thought it was a serious injury and that’s why he was rushing over but in reality it was just a scratch and he was going to go out of his way for nothing. After what seemed an eternity you heard the doorbell, walking over to open the door. Peter walked in with a worried expression on his face, scanning you to see where the injury was.

‘‘What happened? Are you alright?” He asked as he threw his bag on the couch and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the bathroom.

‘‘Peter, it’s literally just a scratch, you shouldn’t have walked all the way here! I can take care of that’‘ 

He didn’t even bother to listen to you, sitting you down on the edge of the tub and looking through the cabinet for rubbing alcohol and bandages. 

‘‘It’s going to sting’‘ He said in a serious tone, cleaning the wound. 

‘‘You don’t need to do this for just a scratch’‘

He looked up, his gaze piercing right through your body, making you shiver. 

‘‘You’ve done it too many times for me’‘

‘‘I haven’t?”

‘‘I mean you would have done it for me too’‘ he said suddenly embarrassed, placing a plaster on the scratch and getting up. 

‘‘Hey, what’s with your hands?’‘ His hands were all covered in plaster and bandage

‘‘It’s nothing, work stuff’‘ 

‘‘Peter, I’m serious, what’s going on? Ned and MJ are very worried about you, you cut me off every time I try to spend time with you, what’s wrong? You know you can tell me. You’ve been acting kind of odd lately.’‘ 

He looked up, one eye squinting lightly because of the light above you. He put on a fake smile, packing the things he used back. 

‘‘I really do think it would be best for you if you didn’t know’‘ he said softly and got up, walking out of the bathroom and sitting on the kitchen counter (like Spider-man used to do every time he would hag out), grabbing a glass and pouring himself a glass of orange juice. Everything felt oddly familiar when you saw he scene. The way his legs hung, the way he threw his head back as he drank, his jawline. Even the way he wiped his mouth with his sleeve sparked some weird sensation in your chest. You tried to brush it off, trying not to think about it and sat down on the couch, turning the tv on. You two spent the evening playing Minecraft together but by the time Peter had to go it felt like you made little to no progress with him. I guess talking about feelings was not his thing. 

                                                              ***

After Peter left your apartment that night, you couldn’t sleep well. After hours of spinning and tossing around in your bed, all the memories of Spider-Man kept rushing through your head, his voice, the way he talked, the way he moved, everything was adding up in your head, it felt like you were about to explode. You never really spent much time with Peter, especially alone, so you never really had a close observation on his behaviour. Yet, somehow, everything clicked. The clock was striking 2 am when you decided maybe it was finally time to confront the situation. Your feelings were getting caught up in the mix as well, making it even worse. It really did feel like your head was spinning, you couldn’t breathe well, your heart was beating so fast it was going to explode just like your head. A panic attack? You’d didn’t know what to do. The only person you knew you need to talk to was Peter. So, almost on impulse, you picked up your phone and dialled his number. You heard the dial in your ear, it was so loud you had to pull the phone slightly away form your face. Just as you did that, the dial stopped and you heard a faint voice from the small device.

“Hello?”

Your breathing got heavier, your heart started beating faster and the room really started spinning.

“Hello? Y/N, are you alright?” The words echoed in the room, a bit more clear this time, you felt tears rolling down your cheeks.

“N-no” you managed to whisper through heavy breaths

“Where are you?” Peter asked, starting to panic himself, which made you more worried.

“Home” you said softly, breaking down in a cry at this point

“Okay, listen to me. I want you to breathe slowly, follow my lead” he told you, voice still panicked as he started taking deep breaths, listening closely to you as you started copying him. “I’m on my way to you, okay? Just keep breathing”

“I’m so sorry” you muffled out, through soft cries, handing up form the panic and breaking down. You didn’t expect to have a panic attack when you called him, or for it to get worse when you did. You didn’t expect him to actually come around, but he did, at 2:30 am, he was knocking on your door.

You had managed to calm down a bit at that point, opening the door a bit hesitantly. His heart shattered when he saw you like that, immediately hugging you and closing the door behind him.

“What’s wrong? What happened? How can I help?” He asked as he held you close, his scent filled your nostrils and eased your nerves a little bit. You could hear his heartbeat. Why was it so fast? Was was this so scary?

“I want you to be honest with me.” You said against his chest, pulling away shortly after so you could look at his face. “Are you… God this sounds so crazy, I promise I’m not crazy! Are you Spider-Man?”

The words spilled out and it suddenly became silent. Peter let go of you, hands going through his hair as he nervously paced around. He didn’t really manage to put a much of an outfit, he was in sweatpants and a loose white T-shirt that moved up with the motion of his hands and exposed his lower stomach. He seemed like he was having a crisis, walking around, squatting down. He looked very nervous and overwhelmed. Was he the one having a panic attack now? The boy stared at the floor, his hair was all messed up, remaining squat down as he exhaled heavily.

“How… did you find out?” He asked coldly, not looking at you.

                                                              ***

Iamfriendswithspidey: Did you talk to Peter?

The messaged popped up on your screen as you were in the middle of a fight with Peter. You both looked at the phone that was on the couch, the screen showing 3:45 am. Shit, you had been arguing for more than an hour now. The nervous pacing continued for a while from both of you, but the tiredness and the emotional drain was so bad it made you sit down, him on the counter and you on the backrest of the couch, looking at him.

"What did you tell him?" Peter asked, feeling defeated already

"Nothing at all, he asked me to check up on you because you were acting weird and distant. Never got to the point of figuting out what was wrong with you." You replied, voice filled with anger and sadness. The text message was followed by a call, with both of you staing at the screen as it rang, so you could gather your thoughts.

"So..." You broke the silence after Ned gave up "We're set on how you became Spider-man... Care to explain everything else?" You crossed your hands in front of your chest.

"I-" he started, looking down at his lap almost like he was building up the courage. "Well... you see... I don't even know how to explain something I don't understand myself"

"You can try, becuase I'm dying to know why you would do something like this"

"What did I do exactly?"

"Peter...What didn't you do?" You said in frustration, getting up and pacing around again "You would come here, spend time with me for a month straight, every fucking day. You would make me laugh and comfort me and get to know me and all of that bullshit and then leave like it meant nothing! Did it really mean nothing to you?''

"Of course it meant something!'' he jumped off the counter catching up to you to grab your arm "I wouldn't have done any of this if you meant less. I overstepped all of my boundries to be here with you.''

You looked at him, tears starting to stream down your face.

"So you could abandon me? Like you didn't care? Like I was nothing? I spent weeks crying, trying to figure out what I did wrong to push you away" You pulled away from his grip, breaking down in front of him. You could see his emotions getting the better of him as well, his breathing rapid and sharp, his fist clenching.

"You thought it was easy for me too?" He asked, anger bubbling up in his chest. "To have so many people dependent on you? To be constantly scared that the people you care most about could end up hurt because of you?"

"So you thought disappearing on them would make it all better?"

"No, not at all" He let out a sigh, looking down at his lap again. "It just got so complicated, the more I came over, the closer we got and then I just-" He looked back up, looking at your teary eyes "I couldn't help it, I really couldn't, we clicked so well and it was so easy with you and I... I just fell for you, so hard, I was terrified, I couldn't tell you as Spider-Man, I couldn't tell you I was Spider-Man... I had to find some other solution"

"You know what the worst part about this is" you said between sobs "It's that I feel in love with you too''.

He pulled you in after that, hugging you tightly. You tried pushing him but he was much stronger. You cried into his chest, gripping his shirt. He didn't say anything, hot tears streaming down his cheeks as he rested his chin on top of your head.

"Stop" you begged him "Please stop doing this, now that I know it's you, it hurts even worse"

"Why?" He asked, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible

"Because you're dating someone else" you said, helplessly hitting his chest with your fist, trying to make him let go. "Please let me go, I can't do this"

"I'm not letting you go" He shook his head, kissing your forehead "I'm never letting you go, I'm sorry for everything, if I were more of a man, none of this would have happened''

You continued helplessly hitting him, crying in his arms. He hugged you tighter, crying into your hair.

"I would understand if you never want to see me again" he whispered.

"I don't hate you, Peter'' you whispered back. "I just need some time to process all of this"

[askagamedev]

Hi I'm a dev that has moved around a lot, I've not spent more than 2 years on a project and after working at a failed start up, I am struggling to find employment and I really don't understand why. I know I can do the jobs that I am applying for and would be able to add value to teams and projects. I'm not sure what more I can do to make myself employable. I'm beginning to worry that I've been tarred with a certain brush because I've readily left studios to pursue other opportunities.

In my experience, if you are finding yourself stalled in the job search and you feel your sample size is sufficient, it is time to examine the evidence and decide whether you need to adjust your strategy. The hiring process is fairly boilerplate.

Submit your resume/CV and cover letter if you have one

Phone/Video Conference Interview

Technical or skills take-home test

On-site or Video Conference Interview

Job Offer

As you pass each step, you proceed to the next. If a job seeker cannot expect to advance to a particular step regularly, it likely means that the previous step needs some work. Many new to the industry don't get callbacks because their CVs aren't properly tailored to the job they hope to get. Others have difficulty with interviews thanks to nerves. The important thing is to identify what step you're having trouble with and focus on improving it. I noticed that I would often make it to the take-home test part of any candidacy, but would most often get the rejection or radio silence after completing the test. I then started doing review passes on my own work and asking others I trusted to help review my work before submitting my exams, and that significantly improved my overall advancement to the on-site interview stage. Practicing interviews with others or getting someone to review your resume may help things advance.

Finding a job has an element of luck involved - there's your skills, there's what the employer is looking for, and there's the timing window where both of you line up and find each other within that window. Sometimes a job opportunity just isn't the right fit for you. We can't really control those. What we can control, however, is minimizing any unforced errors we might make so that we don't sabotage ourselves when the opportunity presents itself. We do this by identifying our weak points in the hiring process and focus on improving them. We can use our overall job-hunting process results as a metric for evaluating our progress.

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Frequent Questions: The FAQ

[kalitheinksimp]

...so, new year huh. It's sure been something.

Well, since i have nothing better to post, how about I use this opportunity to settle something?

The date that Amaryllis and Hibiscus were made on and their first arts i did of them in digital-

This is how Amary first looked like. Reason I made her was to test out my custom brushes on, but wasn't sure who.

So I had the genius idea of making a shipchild of Kali and Ink!.... but then I got attached-

Her design from this and the final one has not been changed too much, her hair has been slightly adjusted, and her dress is also slightly different, but overall she's the same.

Her birthdate would be roughly around the time the update of custom brushes came out on Ibis paint, so I'm making it be 8 april 2021

Now Hibiscus...her design has not changed at all in the final since she's pretty recent

We know why she was created, but she still went through several beta designs while I was making her sketch.

I was thinking about making her an even more shy character, but that would not make sense of fit well. Then i thought about making an adopted daughter character (because of a fic i read) but that idea was shut pretty quick as i litrally had no idea where to go with it

Then i came up with her final idea that maybe she would be that type of character that do anything for their loved ones, and would practice to be strong for them. And that idea is the one that fit the best in her dynamic with everyone.

And so, she was made on 3 October 2022

[quirkwizard]

Could you do a Quirk Analysis for New Order? The power to impose rules onto reality could be used in so many ways, it would be an opportunity to show some interesting super moves with what amounts to low-level reality warping! I mean the orders aren't omnipotent, they have a cut off point, plus only two can exist at once, but if I had that Quirk I would spend ages testing what it can and can't do, if clever wording can circumvent the limits, etc.

I've already kind of did an analysis for it, but I'm always up to rag on this Quirk

To no one's surprise, I still despise this Quirk. I dislike it more then any other Quirk in the series. It's frankly astounding how bad it is. It everything from it's lack of limits on the application, to the absurd power and scope of the Quirk, to the lack of any real creative application of the power. Nothing about this Quirks fits within in the world. The line "it redefines what a Quirk even is" haunts me to this day. Saying that doesn't make it any better or excuse how unfitting it is. And it being the crux of this whole mini arc without any time to establish it and then having it brushed under the rug is not great either. This feels like a power you'd get from an anime filler arc. It doesn't make any sense, but hey, it isn't canon, so it shouldn't bother you. But it is canon. So it does bother me.

There isn't a strong connection to Stars and Stripes as a character either. She's American, so give her the patriotic Quirk. It's the same kind of surface level connection you get for background characters. It's not even fun to think about with how it could be used. When it comes to theory crafting powers, it helps a lot to have a clear understanding of what it can and cannot do. Limitations foster creativity. It's what makes something like "Overhaul" so fun to think about, yet makes "New Order" so uninteresting. There isn't any limits to work around or enough showings to figure out what it can and cannot do when it comes to the orders. We've seen her catching lasers, so I guess anything is free game. So from top to bottom, this Quirk that has frustrated me to no end.

[doing-something-unholy]

//I give a soft sigh, loving the feeling of your lips against my skin. Your gentle words melt my heart, as futile as your prayers are.//

My sweet priest… Your hopes for me are hardly annoying. In fact, you flatter me. Unfortunately for me, your god values lack of sin above any virtues, and my very existence is a sin. I am forced to hurt others to survive, made to drain them of their very blood to continue living… I do tend to prefer my food consenting, though. It makes things easier.

//One of my hands moves to cup yours against my thigh, squeezing it gently. How do I differ, you ask? I consider for a moment. I’ve lived like this for so long, that it’s sometimes difficult to remember before.//

You’re correct on that count, Father. It’s one of the few things the stories are right about. I can’t see myself in the mirror, though I’m long since used to doing my hair without one. The sun won’t kill me, not fast enough to matter, but it is deeply unpleasant. Long sleeves, pants, and a copious amount of sunscreen help with that well enough to get by, but I still dread having to leave the house during the day.

//I give a bitter chuckle, nuzzling my face against your hair.//

Religious icons don’t do much to me either, not without intent. If there was some kind of protection or warding prayer, it would burn my skin quite badly, but otherwise, they’re just trinkets. Holy water does hurt, and I’d really rather not test the effectiveness of that on ending my life. I… Trust you not to take advantage of that, Father.

(I figure it’s like the first one? Vampires are treated like an urban myth and most people brush them off as monster stories and legends with no truth to them? And the stories have a lot “wrong” or “slightly off” about them, but there are bits of truth to them? Also, funny enough, I’ve only just watched the first two episodes of Midnight Mass last night! XD I am thoroughly enjoying it, though! Father Skinnyjeans is adorable.)

🐱

Of course not, I wouldn't hurt you. You've had plenty of opportunity to hurt me and didn't.

[It's surprising how quickly I adjusted to the news that those legends are real, at least to some degree. I guess being face to face (or neck to fang) with one makes it hard to deny. Being 'food' is a strange feeling. I'm not worried they'll kill me, I'm more useful to them alive and bleeding, and them seem awfully fond of me. But I know I'm prey to him, even if it's hard to reconcile that fact with the way I'm laying in his arms, completely at ease.

And if the thought of being prey makes my overactive imagination run wild picturing some pulpy romance novel cover of a priest in a ripped open cassock swooning in the arms of a dashing roguish vampire, that is my business, thankyouverymuch.

God, I hope some form of mind-reading is not something they can do.]

...Uh, I suppose we should get out and dried off at some point? Or do you want to add more hot water and stay here a little while?