#what's his fake name uhhh

[lepitorus]

😇PIZZA💜💛POWER😈

[narutomaki]

I always get self conscious when people talk about the amount of thought the goes/went into their art because there is.

there is no upper processing happening when I'm designing a character or background. my hand starts moving and my brain shuts off. I recognize there was probably a point in my life where this WASN'T the case but. like. it's why my art is like. mostly flat and lifeless. my art is never intended to tell a story because when I intend to I get angry/frustrated to the point of wanting to break shit because it's not going right. and I've tried to tell stories with my art both comics and stand alone pieces and it all feels fake or flat or.

idk.

I've TRIED to start and finish a piece where I've made conscious choices beyond "does this look good/right" and "am I being offensive in ways I'm aware of with anything here" but it just. makes me want to scream.

I learned people told stories with their art and I tried to and I stopped drawing for 5 years despite having. before that point been doing art studies for 8 to 10 hours a day for. 2 years.

I mostly just think it's because I have nothing to. say.

I can't add anymore tags to this post??? homophobia.

any way this post is useless idk I'm just sad because people do this thing so easily and enjoy it when it makes me break down crying. I don't get it. every person I've known regardless of neurodivergency has been able to do this consciously to some degree and enjoy it and meanwhile my stupid ass is asked how/why i chose something and I just. shrug. idk

looked nice?

[averycrimsonrain]

like I'm gonna read svsss eventually but trying to piece together what happens via out of context spoilers on my dashboard is just so entertaining. Things I have learned so far:

The main character straight up dies bc he thinks faking your own death is tacky (it seems like he gets resurrected eventually??)

His love interest is a demon lord/puppy dog who's absolutely insane (sleeps next to a dead body for five years & makes his crush drink his blood???)

I have no idea what Mobei Jun's role in the story is but I know he's the hottest man in the world (& god's specialest little boy)

There are (allegedly) female characters who uhhh. Exist?

The main villain (??) of the story is the author, whose name seems to just be "Airplane"

Today I learned there is a sexy snake man. What wonders shall tomorrow bring

[aakeysmash]

prompt:

reader getting injured because she slipped in the shower, sukuna has to help her get to the hospital, where reader gets some pain meds making her kinda high. she confesses to him while being high

content: fluff, crack. reader is in the hospital and blood is named but there’s no gore. yuuji and sukuna are siblings. i love sukuna and i need him in my life so bad… someone PLS be my sukuna

“So, just to be sure: one margherita for me and one with sausage for you?” Asks you Yuuji while putting on his shoes.

“Yup,” you answer, popping the p. “Can I just have a quick shower while you’re gone?”

“Uhhh, sure, let me go ask Sukuna,” your friend tells you smiling and rushing up the stairs of his home.

You and Yuuji have been best friends since forever. You remember the first time you both cried your eyes out at the park in kindergarten because a lizard had just eaten the ladybug you had been watching for half an hour. Since that moment you’ve been attached at the hip, your homework filled afternoons in high school turning to pizza nights when both of your work schedules allowed you to now.

“Big bro said sure,” comes Yuuji’s voice from the end of the staircase.

“I did in fact not say that,” growls Sukuna from behind him. Sukuna is the same age as you and Yuuji, but he always seemed older. Sometimes wiser, but sure as hell more annoying than his brother. Hotter, too, but that’s a topic for another time.

“I didn’t ask you to join me, big boy,” you say sarcastically, fake smiling. He crosses his arms, leveling you with a bored look.

“Yuu, if you aren’t fast enough you’re not going to find her corpse when you get back,” he tells his brother, still staring you up and down. Yuuji sighs, tired, then opens the front door.

“Make sure to not kill each other. I have a shift after this, stop bickering. You two act like siblings more than I do with you, Sukuna,” he reprimands you both. You and his brother roll your eyes at the same time, then you push him out, closing the door in his face. You turn around and find yourself face to face with Sukuna's menacing grin.

“You have 5 minutes before I come knock at the bathroom door with a kitchen knife, doll.”

You’re scrubbing yourself clean with a random pine body wash you found in the shower when the playlist you put before entering the stall stops. You’re annoyed, because now you’re forced to listen to Sukuna’s ugly songs from the bathroom wall (that he’s blasting just to annoy you), so you try to reach your phone. You’re on your tippy toes, not wanting to get out completely, when you trip and fall since you didn’t wash the soap away from your body. You bump your head on the sink in front of the shower, hard, and you muffle a whine. You close your eyes as hard as you can and open the shower head with the room spinning inside your skull.

“Don’t open your eyes, don’t open your eyes or you’ll fall… fuck, it hurts so bad,” you tell yourself while you speed run the end of the shower and blindly put your shirt over your head. It’s not the first time you've bumped your head on something, you were a crazy kid, so you’ve learned to open your eyes only when you physically can’t function anymore or you'll start seeing stars immediately. You barely get to put your pants on when you notice your forehead feels wet, and you didn't even wash your hair. As you get out of the bathroom wobbling you touch your head. When you open your eyes, you see blood on your hand. The room spins. You barely have time to look up and watch Sukuna coming out of his bedroom frowning before seeing black dots in your vision.

You try opening your eyes, but they feel so heavy. Your body feels rather stiff. What's this smell?

"Oh, she's waking up," a female voice softly says from somewhere next to your right.

"Thank you, miss, I got it from here," a rough voice responds.

"Make sure she drinks a lot, and keep a couple of painkillers near you. The scans show she doesn't have any internal damage, but she hit her head pretty hard. She's going to have a big bruise for a couple of days," the female voice continues. You hear the man making a sound of affirmation.

There’s a brief pause. "Your wife is very lucky. It's not every day that a man takes a woman up four flights of stairs by simple arm strength," the woman concludes sweetly, getting out of the room after he responds with a grunt and closing the door behind her.

"Your ass is lucky I lied or they wouldn’t have let me in, dumbass. Open your eyes, I know you're awake," the voice you now recognise as Sukuna says, getting closer. You try opening your eyes, managing to focus your gaze on him. Everything feels so fluffy, apart from your throat. You cough, and you think you see him rolling his eyes before getting you a glass of water and sitting beside you on a chair. You gulp it down, still feeling fuzzy, then you blink a couple of times.

You gape at him. He's cute. “You look funny,” you say, poking his cheek. He’s so squishy. Like a little mochi. A little mochi filled with strawberries. Strawberries and cream. He slaps your finger away, and you put on a hurt expression. He huffs.

“Why am I here?” You ask. The more you look at him, the more heads he seems to have.

“You fell in the bathroom,” he says, straightening up from the chair and covering your right leg with the duvet the hospital gave you. You raise an eyebrow at his gesture, and he just rolls his eyes again. “Don’t want you to also catch a cold. Yuuji would kill my ass.” You just hum.

“I caught ya when you already fainted. Yuuji came back home and panicked, but he couldn’t back out from work, so I was stuck with your ass. Took ya here but the elevator broke down. And I ate your pizza, by the way. All this is gonna cost ya 200 dollars, cash,” he lists, sprawling back onto his chair, deadpan.

Silence engulfs the both of you, and you don’t know what to say. You heard what the nurse said and you are searching for a way to bring it up, but the words in your mind are all scrambled. It’s probably the morphine that you realise they gave you, IV still attached to your left arm. You open your mouth to say something along the lines of “I’d like to thank your gym membership for this,” but instead the words that leave your mouth are-

“I’d like you to be my husband.”

His eyes snap to your widening ones. “Wait that wasn’t what-“

“Huh?” He just replies, dumbfounded. You panic, waving your hands in the air between you two.

“No, what I meant was- like- thank you for getting me up here- can you stop looking at me with your weird 16 eyes?- not that you aren’t attractive! You’re super hot! But that’s not- oh god,” you whimper, rubbing your face, noticing how you’re just making the situation worse. You prepare yourself for his snarky comeback, closing your eyes, but everything is silent.

Suddenly, you hear him snort. You crack your eyes open, touching the big cotton gauze they put on your forehead. You must be hearing things. It’s definitely the morphine, there’s no way Sukuna is actually laughing.

“Yes, I’m laughing, doll,” he says, chuckling. You widen your eyes.

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” You cringe.

“Yeah, you kinda did,” he responds, smirking. You groan.

“Take me out to dinner first, damn,” he yawns. You jut your bottom lip out, frowning and giving him your middle finger. Then you register his words.

“You’d come? I mean, if I asked you out.”

“Well, if you’re paying,” he responds, shrugging. That’s still a yes, isn’t it?

He ruffles up his pink hair, black t-shirt straining across his bicep. You can’t contain the urge to poke the muscle.

“Stop touching me like I’m made of play dough, doll,” he sighs, slightly less annoyed than 5 minutes ago.

“Would you let me play with you if you were made of play dough?” you ask, words a little slurred, still poking his arm, and he flexes it. “Don’t show off,” you mumble.

“You’re even weirder when you’re drugged,” he grins. He kinda looks scary, though. If you didn’t know him, you’d piss yourself by looking at his sharp teeth.

“But would you or would you not?” You whine, dragging out the last word, letting your hand fall next to you. He misses the warmth of your hand, so instead, he just puts his on your thigh. To be warm, of course. The room is so cold. Yeah. Definitely because of the missing heat.

“Yeah doll, I would.”

[spliffymae]

rapper!onyankopon.

just some head canons i have.

in my head im imagining a blend of dave and fridayy, where he can sing as well (he got variety!). same universe as my musicproducer!connie fic but reader is not famous here, as opposed to w/ connie’s. (lol i gave her a last name too—davis.) in my mind, im picturing ony from the uk and connie from ny.

★　*　　°　　　　🛰 　°. 🌓　•　　.°•　　　🚀

rapper!ony who first pops up on the scene in a music video of his friend connie’s song. he wasn’t featured on the track, but rather just in the background getting hype with everyone else.

but y’all know how the girlies get when a fine black man/woman/person start trending.

rapper!ony who wasn’t shy about his craft, but just wasn’t big on social media. his agent hated it, he loved it. he simply released music, let people know, and then went about his business.

rapper!ony was trending and although he didn’t take this as an opportunity to get in his social media bag, his best friend, musicproducer!connie did!

rapper!ony who goes from a couple thousand people knowing what he does to over a million people screaming his lyrics at they’re phones on tiktok in ONE night.

“bro, you can’t even get mad at me gang!” connie yelled from his shower. ony was sitting outside, accosting his friend for what he did. “you said you didn’t care what happened to the project!”

“but tell me if you gon post it and make it a whole thing, nigga damn!” ony yelled back.

rapper!ony who now has to adjust to his quickly rising popularity. he has yet to know the number of artists looking for a feature; and he doesn’t know that he secretly has some of these industry boys shaking in their boots because where the hell he come from?

no, rapper!ony is too busy focusing on whyyy they’re a million fan edits of him across tiktok and instagram. clips of him from his streams, connie’s videos, and his other friend’s content.

ony groans as connie’s message banner pops up on his phone, the message being a link to a tiktok. when he clicked it, it was a fan edit of him using his song ‘when it comes to you’. “bro, who keeps sending these to you, man?!” ony exclaimed. connie heard it from his room and snickered.

rapper!ony who had to adjust to being the attention at these red carpet events. he usually just walked behind connie and his girl, along with the rest of the entourage but now he is getting stopped for photographs.

there’s nothing like listening to music live. so rapper!ony puts on a fake smile and pushes through the crowded carpet to get inside. he waves to people he’s worked with, artists, and fans who called out to him. all so he can hear some music.

he sees connie holding hands with his girlfriend, both of them making goofy faces at the cameras. he softly smiles at the couple, but before he could make way, connie somehow senses him and turns to him “ony! ven aquí!” damn!

rapper!ony who doesn’t expect much from the awards show. just to go, support connie, and go home. he was nominated,yeah, but he was also in the category with some of the most popular artists right now…so he wasn’t feeling all that confident.

rapper!ony who is shocked as shocked can be when his name is called from the podium for best new artist.

“F**CK YEAH!” connie yelled, jumping up from his seat along with his girl and the rest of the table—aran, zora, jean, armin, and mikasa.

rapper!ony who walks up on stage with connie who is still screaming from excitement.

“uhhh, i’m not gonna lie, mans weren’t expecting to win still.” ony laughed, running a hand over his fresh waves. the audience laughed with him.

“first i would like to thank God, the most high who has blessed me with this amazing opportunity. i want to thank my people for having my back; connie—this man,” ony pointed behind him to connie, who was full out filming the moment on his phone.

“who told me on a random day when we were cleaning out our college dorm room that if we made a project together we would be the new heartthrobs of the generation. connie i thank you for being you; having my back and working alongside me. my brother for life, that is.” connie screamed, and so did his girlfriend from the audience as the claps poured in.

“and finally, i want to thank my heart in human form. the woman who made all of this possible, y/n davis. she don’t like the attention so im gonna hear bout this name drop when i get home. but babes, i love you, and thank you for being my rib. i owe you the world and more. and to her parents, thank you for my better half. thank you lot again. love!” ony raised his hand with the award, smiling and waving to the crowd and cameras as he walked to the back.

meanwhile, across the country, cuddled up in her bed was y/n, who was watching the award show before going to sleep. she had expressed to ony she wasn’t too sure about going, not liking the cameras and attention. he reassured her it was okay because there wasn’t any way he would be winning with who else was in the category.

so…safe to say when you saw your boyfriend on the stage with the award in his hand, you could not contain your shock and excitement. you jumped out of bed screaming and quickly getting to your phone camera to record the tv. squeals and “yeah baby” was all you could say as he gave connie his thanks.

but then… when you heard him say your name, for everyone around the world to hear, everything just turned to shock as your phone fell from your frozen hands, still recording. you were stunned. he said your name. your government name. on national television.

“ONY!!!”

[sanjisblackasswife]

Black Fem! Cam Girl Reader in Mind

CW: Nanami has a voice kink, He’s a pervert, Uhhh, mutual masturbation, uhhhhh yeah pure slutty smut

Thinking about Nanami’s little dirty secret of him watching a specific cam girl almost every other night when he gets off work.

He don’t even remember when he started watching her, he watches porn like any other man yes, but as far as joining sex calls or live streams or even only fans just wasn’t in his interest.

However he misclicked a twitter link once and since then he’s been a regular watching her.

She’s has a relatively smaller audience since she’s new , no more than 40-50 people and doesn’t get many comments, but quite a bit of donations from anonymous perverts that ask her to do things like play with herself with a specific sex toy she has lined up.

It was a marvel to behold to Nanami, her beautiful figure plastered on the screen when he clicks her live, her pretty full legs spread so wide they get out of the camera. He swears he heard her mention she has been in gymnastics.

Her skin complexion was also what captivated him, she looked fake almost. Not in a derogatory sense, but it was astonishing how someone as beautiful as her has less than 100 veiws despite being so new.

Every night he comes home, mentally drained, throwing his clothes from one area of the room to the next, he’ll worry about it in the morning. As for now, it’s almost 9pm which means his favorite girl is about to start the show.

It started off as something he swore to watch once, get off, and never go back to the site again.

That was until he became addicted to the way she cums.

Something about it.

The way her left thigh twitch and jiggles signalling she’s close, her fatty lower lip being chewed on while her voice gets higher in pitch, the way how her eyes squint, but fail to keep focus as they roll back.

She sounds so fucking sexy when she cums.

She is so whiney and needy she begins to overstimulate herself which really drives Nanami over the edge.

“So greedy…” Nanami thinks as his strong fist grips the base of his dick, “Fuck keep going.

She plays with her breast a lot too when she cums on her little fingers, rubbing her clit in circles, bucking her hips at the camera.

It never failed to make the tired blonde man cum in seconds.

It’s been almost a month of this and he tries not to think about it too much. Watching her for a moment, getting off then immediately shutting off the laptop to clean up and go to bed.

but tonight he wanted to go a little further.

He never comments, he never donates, but tonight there was something in the air, maybe it was the new lingerie she wore to show off, maybe it was the need of seeing more of her. Though it’s been a month, nanami began to stay after cumming, watching her reply and give thanks to donations. He once stayed an entire live and honestly it was most he ever came in his entire life.

She was just so cute. Her voice was so delicate and sweet despite the slutty acts she was doing.

“Fuck it.” He though, clicking and typing away.

“Mr. John Doe has donated $150.”

“Oh!” Her voice almost purred in his heard making him groan as he laid on the headboard of his bed. “Thank you Mr. Doe. That’s so kind of you!…um…as a thank you do you have any requests for me tonight?”

Nanami’s breath hitched a little, her big doe eyes looking at the screen of her chat, she insisted she’d do almost anything and for a moment Nanami was going to just tell her to do whatever she liked but…

her voice. He needed to hear it more.

“Mr. John Doe has Donated $250: Moan my name while you play with yourself, it’s Kento.”

Her eyes widened at the message for a second leaving Nanami to sigh in embarrassment, why would he do that of course she’s not—

“Kento…that’s a really cute name.” She giggled, taking off the top of her pink and black set revealing her breast to massage, “Mkay! Thank you again, Kento..”

It was like her voice had a spell on him, immediately he lowered the waist band of his grey sweats and pulled out his dick and lube from his nightstand.

She did as told, teasing herself with her fingers on her clit, Nanami watched carefully stroking the shaft of his dick at the same pace as her,

“Kentooooo..” She whined throwing her head back., “‘Wish you were here to do this for me…’need you so badly..”

“Fuck..” Nanami growled, he wish he was there, one of his fingers are twice the size of 2 of hers, he knew he could have her cum way faster, maybe even squirt all around his wrist and hand, but alas.

He’s stuck w his own sticky seed flowing down his knuckles and palm. He overstimulated himself to the point he felt a tear fall down the corner of his eye.

“Ken! Kento!” Her voice pitched, she’s close, “Kento yes!”

The chants of his name while she falls flat on her back leaving nothing but her drooling wet cunt on screen left Nanami speechless, his cheeks were pink and hot, his hair no longer properly parter but flowing over his eyes he couldn’t take it. He wish he knew her real name and not username to moan with her.

“Hah…” She breathed moving back towards the camera, she started sucking on her own wet sticky fingers, and that made Nanami’s cock twitch , she’s such a dirty girl. “Hope it was to your liking, Kento. Thank you for the donation!”

If only he could give her more than a few dollars and stupid requests.

Maybe.

Part 2 Here

[yan-randomfandom]

HIIIIIIII I love your writing alot!!!! Soo, I wanna request something:3

Maybe a Yandere Stanford Pines x GN reader who only saw him as a close friend? They became friends when they were still in high-school up to this day! (Yes, reader did sort of wait 30 years for Ford and never forgot about him)

Maybe just Stanford obsessing over Reader romantically, and Reader just think him as the greatest best-friend ever!!

I LOVE ONE SIDED PINNING OKAY????

Stanford Pines x GN!Reader

UM UH,,, IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ANON— and it's something I'm not even proud of 😭😭

context btw; reader doesn't know about weirdmaggedon or fake death or entire lore, they dont tell them anything uhhh idk anymore

You took the bus to Gravity Falls! Stanley reached out to you after decades of not having contact. It was a bit sudden, but there's no way you're going to ignore his call.

Stanley Pines was the first man you saw when the Mystery Shack's door opened. Wrinkly, exhausted widened eyes looked at you in silence. He looked unprepared... kind of crusty musty... and very unhygienic.

"You look disgusting! I'm gonna hug you anyway!" you beamed, pulling him in for a big hug. Unwillingly, a strong whiff of his scent hits your nose. "You stink too! You haven't changed a bit, Stanley."

"Glad to know ya missed me," he laughed, giving you an affectionate noogie.

When Stan finally let you go, you looked up to see Ford. He stood in front of you, speechless as he stared into your eyes.

"...Ford," you grinned, walking towards him. In curiosity, you placed your palms on both his cheeks. He seemed to relax with your touch. "You changed a lot."

Your eyes, while they've wrinkled, are as warm as the day he last saw them. He smiled back, his large hand covering one of yours. Your smile widened when you saw his fingers. "And you aged beautifully."

Poetic as always! A laugh bubbled up your throat as you wrapped your arms around him.

He quickly returned the gesture, burying his face into your neck. He missed this. He missed you.

Your warmth didn't change. Fascinating.

"I missed you, man! How come you're such a silver fox now? Good for you!"

"I still have no idea what a silver fox is," he chuckled, already longing for you the second you pulled away from him.

Ford merely stood there for a few moments before he grimaced. Damn it. He still likes you, doesn't he?

It's been more than thirty years already. He thought he would have moved on, especially after the whole weirdmaggedon thing. Why would Stanley ever get the idea of calling you back here??

All of you now sat at the table with you in between the Pines twins. Mabel wore an apron, sophisticatedly offering you tea. The sweetheart made the recipe herself!

"So, how have you been doing these days?" Ford asked, resting his cheek on his palm. Every passing second with you, he gets reminded more and more of why he used to like you.

You are, after all, the first and only person to not call him any sort of names because of his hands.

"Oh, I mean, I've been financially doing well, and it's been a bit difficult to settle down with a partner... but," you blushed. "I think I finally found the one."

Ford coughed out violently, pounding a fist against his chest. He really shouldn't be surprised. He really shouldn't! You're bound to have found someone!

Get a grip. Fourty. Years.

...He truly had missed out on this dimension for such a long time.

...

The sky is dark. Dipper told you about the roof spot at the shack, and now you're here, thinking about life.

"Dipper said you'd be here," a voice murmured. You looked up and saw Ford walking up to you. Chuckling, you offered him a non-alcoholic drink.

"How many days will you be staying here again?" Ford asked as he sat next to you, sparing a small space between.

"A week at most," you shrugged, kicking your legs at the edge. Ford simply stared at you.

"I guess it'll be forever before we see you again, huh?" he mumbled.

You turned to him with a smile. "Of course not. You guys are invited to my wedding."

... Wedding.

A small huff left your lips. "We're so old now. I still remember being in high school and grouping up with you and Stan when a trio was needed. Good times."

Ford continued staring at you.

"You guys were my best friends. Probably not now, I mean, been decades since we last talked. That reminds me, what made you call—"

Ford suddenly interrupted you with a hug.

"Woah, Fordsy, you miss me that much?" you laughed, hugging him back.

Don't call him that. His arms around you tightened.

You simply let him hug you.

It was such a long one.

And it only grew tighter by the second.

Like he never wanted to let you go again.

but his aim is getting better 🗣️

i love your idea so much btw, i too am a fan of one-sided pining.... the desperation yk.. I THINK I JUST SUCK AT WRITING FOR THAT WHAT 😟 (says the yandere blog)

[222col]

Can we get a fic about womanizer Art who's a very famous tennis player and never committed to any woman before even though girls are throwing themselves at him and who doesn't sleep with the same girl twice until he meets y/n ( a maneater) and the sex is something that Art has never experienced before to the point he becomes obsessed with her, she's all what he thinks about and refuses to sleep with another girl and he's determined to make her his no matter what

uhhh yes of course 🧎🏻‍♀️

art donaldson. the man who's only lost two games is entire professional career, he's one of the most, if not the most, successful tennis players in history. he's out most weekends, celebrating another win, another trophy to add to the cabinet. taking a new girl home with him every night, they all fall to his feet like putty. he thinks it's pathetic, but hey, it gets him laid. he's been single during his adult career, too busy fucking random girls and focusing on his tennis to bother committing, not that he would want to anyhow. he never sleeps with the same girl twice, he did that once, some seven years ago. he couldn't stand the way she'd text him constantly afterwards.

he's just won another trophy hitting up the local club with his friends. patrick joins up with him, later in the night. "congrats donaldson, sorry i'm late man, we all bar crawled our way here." art surveys the people patrick has brought with him. you're laughing at something with one of the boys patrick's brought along. "who's that?" art questions, nodding towards you. patrick tells him your name, "she's uh, my buddy's girlfriends, cousin or sister or something, fuck i don't know," patrick laughs into his drink. target acquired, art finishes the vodka soda he's drinking, turning to place the empty cup on the side. your mouth is attached to the guy you were laughing with, your dress hitched up slightly as his hands dart around your waist. "look like he beat you to it, artie," art shakes his head at his friend. "games not over 'til it's over, patrick."

the group of you are shown over to a vip booth, near the back of the club. the guy you were making out with gets up to go to the bathroom, art stands, about to steal his seat next to you when another one of patrick's friends beats him to it. "fuck me," art whispers, slumping back to his place in the booth and backing another vodka soda. the new guy whispers something in your ear, hand on your thigh as you move to make out with him. art should be turned off with how easy you're acting, but honestly he's impressed, the way you have every guy here wrapped around your finger. they're throwing themselves at you the way in which girls do to him, he's intrigued. "game, set, match." patrick laughs to art. "uh uh, no way." art walks straight over to you, pulling the guy off you by his shoulder. "hey! hey- you're art donaldson!" art rolls his eyes. "i'll sign an autograph later, but right now, you're in my seat."

he raises his hands in defeat, moving for art to take his position next to you. "i'd tell you off for interrupting, but he was a shit kisser." you smirk to the blonde in front of you. "well, guess you'll just have to thank me instead." you sip your drink. "i wouldn't go that far, donaldson?" he nods. "art donaldson, and you are?" you introduce yourself. "and who are you that your face alone made that guy run for the hills?" wow, you really don't know him. it's refreshing. "a tennis player." it wasn't the answer you were expecting. "aren't you a bit too pretty to be a tennis player?" art fakes a pout. "i'm so sorry i don't meet your expectations, but hey, at least i know you think i'm pretty." you shrug at him. "it's just a fact. dance with me?" you ask, standing up, holding out your hand. he takes it, of course, joining you on the dance floor. art's not much of a dancer, but that doesn't stop his arm snaking around your waist as you grind against him.

he's whispering in your ear, disgusting, perverted things about the way your body feels against his. art's not shy in situations like this, he thrives, it's his weekly routine. "you gonna keep talking or are you gonna take me home and actually act on what you're telling me, donaldson." he's pulling you out of the club, jumping into the car he has waiting outside. the partition is already rolled up as art climbs on top of you the second the car door is shut. his lips touch yours for the first time tonight and he's intoxicated, your lipstick leaving stains on his skin but he can't get enough. you're reaching between your bodies, palming him through his jeans. "christ, you're like a teenager. all you've done is kiss me and you're already hard." he was hard the second you danced up against him, but that's not the point. "you gonna fucking do something about it then?" he's biting, kissing, sucking his way down your jaw to your neck. "no actually, i think you can grow up and wait until we're at wherever we're going." it's you biting his skin now, his earlobe, his neck, his shoulder. "we're going back to my house, where i can fuck you like the slut you are." you're desperately trying not to give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan yet. the car pulls up to art's place, the door opening as he pulls you into the house.

you're kissing the way through the house as art leads you to his bedroom. pulling your dress over your head as you remove his shirt. "fuuuuck," he whispers as you push him backwards to the bed. undoing his jeans, discarding them across the room with his briefs. you crawl over his body, his hands looping behind you to undo your bra. "you're the hottest woman i've ever seen." he peppers your breasts with kisses before manhandling them. "bet you say that to all the girls you fuck in this bed." your hand reaching down between your bodies again, pumping his newly exposed cock in your hand. he groans as he replies. "i don't actually, you're the sexiest thing i've ever laid my eyes on." you scoff and pump his cock faster. "you're not so bad yourself, donaldson."

he flips you over onto your back, moving down your body, removing your panties with his teeth. "you've even got the prettiest little pussy i've ever seen." he immediately starts tonguing your clit, inserting two fingers into you. your moans are killing him, pre-cum falling out of his cock at the taste of you. he reaches over to his nightstand to pull out a condom. "don't, i'm on the pill." he smiles over to you, "fuck me, art." lining himself up with your entrance, "now, say please." god, the sound that escaped your lips in response could have had art confessing his love to you. "please, fuck, please art," he lifts your legs up, resting them on his shoulders as he slides himself into you. getting drunk of the sounds of you and the way you feel around him. he pushes your legs down closer to you, he's never felt this deep inside someone before. "jesus, you're fucking perfect," he mutters, leaning down to kiss your swollen lips.

he's already getting close, leaning back to thumb your clit as he fucks you quicker than before. "fuck, shit, you feel fucking amazing," your hands grasp the sheets, more profanities leaving your lips. "i'm so fucking close," he whispers, his grip around your ankle tightening. "fuck, come inside me, please, art." fuck. no one's ever let him do that before. in all these years, all these girls, not one as let him come inside of them. a few more thrusts is all it takes for art to finish inside your pussy. it feels like fucking heaven to him. that's it. that's what's been missing. he works your clit until you're a mess beneath his fingers, watching you orgasm as his load drips out of you. "fuck. i need to do that again." he falls down next to you on the bed. "which bit specifically?" you giggle, kissing his shoulder. "all of it. you. coming inside of you." his eyes meet yours. "i wanna see you again." placing kisses on your lips. "not my style, unfortunately for you, donaldson." you start sitting up, his hand grasping your wrist, stopping you in motion. "it wasn't a question."

he gets your number from patrick's friend's girlfriend, turns out you're her friend, not her sister or cousin. she likes art for you, so obliges when he requests your number. blowing up your phone, near enough begging you to see him again. it's been weeks since he saw you, skipping the clubs after matches to sit at home and stalk you on social media. there's just something about you, consuming his thoughts. you never replied further than 'who's this?' to his texts, you make him look pathetic.

i will literally do anything you ask if you just let me take you on a date.

it's late, he's becoming desperate for just a text back from you. throwing his phone across the room after he sends another text. "this is just ridiculous." he mumbles to himself, when a text notification lights up his phone, falling off the bed and running to it, he see's your name.

anything?

fucking finally. he's sat on the floor, smiling into his phone like a little boy texting his crush.

literally anything in the world.

he sends the text back immediately. fuck waiting around to make himself seem less desperate.

would you let me fuck you with a racket?

god, you're disgusting, he fucking loves it.

i would do whatever it takes just to taste you again.

he's staring at the three bubbles on his phone, like his world would shatter if they stopped.

you can take me to dinner tomorrow then.

[kroosluvr]

the celeste celexcity kroosluvr swap au (i don't have a good name for this yet)

basics bc i haven't decided much yet

UHHH basically what it says on the images... akira is playing on maruki's side and they don't know if it's just to be a contrarian or if he actually believes in it. but akira in this au is very ends-justify-the-means + the fact that he's a dead man so he dgaf that it's the "wrong decision." he won't be there to see it anyways, no matter which route they take, but at least in the fake reality umm One version of akira kurusu is happy!

engine room and stuff plays out as normal i imagine those black mask plot beats r the same

+ post engine room, in 3rd sem akira's personality doesn't rlly change all that much. hes always been Shrewd Scammer Silver tongued untrustworthy bastard type and nothing changes even then. there are moments when he seems more 'vulnerable' but also sumire+goro cant be certain if its an act either

i think akira has a "well if they both hate me thatll make things easier" mindset regardless

shido is still goro's dad and all that and akira works for shido for whatever reason and he learns abt that and holds it over goro's head the same way he grates on sumire abt kasumi

o yeah akira wasnt like Particularly close w kasumi (he isnt particularly close w anyone) but they talked casually. he never rlly met sumire. it's funny when he meets 'kasumi' bc like obviously shes lying LMAO but he just genuinely doesnt care enough to find out (<- akira very selfish and just focused on his own goals on his lonesome). either way his interactions w her are funny bc hes like Hahahh yeah... (What hte hell isgoing on. Whatever)

also i think this goro doesn't meet all the pthieves/confidants in the same Order as canonverse akira, like i feel like he'd "team up" with yusuke first somehow (ake/kita fan THUMBSUP EMOJ)

sumire basically thesame. i changed her earring color frm gold-> silver just for differentiation pruposes (and itll fit better w her pthief design in swap bc itll be differnetntn!!! yay!!) uhhh but shes kinda more sardonic out loud thanks to akira being annoying

shes rlly embarrassed abt being "kasumi" to goro and so shes all like distancing herself like "sorry i know it was stupid of me and i totally get it if u dont trust me anymore bc i wasnt who i said i was" etc but goros also like thats in the past and also we kinda are the only ones in the world rn so we just have to put that aside for now and also kick akiras ass

THATS AL I CAN THINK OF RN it's kinda vibes right now bc im never good at figuring out entire plotlines LMFASOPFJS024320 falls over. Major plot holes probably and shit wont make sense it's a big JUST TRUST ME + i just wanna draw random stuff w them moment ummm uhh uh runs

[fuji-sen]

the 'evil imposter' just wants to be a baker!

Prologue: The Foodie turned Imposter?!

Part 4.5 special! : adventures of a pyro slime

[ part 4 ] || [ masterlist ] || [ part 5 ]

divider is made by @/saradika-graphics

The pyro slime stared at you worriedly, it wanted to comfort you but alas, even if you weren't in a body of water it must not. For even touching you would leave you with more pain. Perhaps it had been better if he was born from a different element.

Their eyes squint into something akin to a glare, if only those stupid humans didn't hurt you! or got to you first! they were fake non-believers! they didn't know a real prophecy from a fake one even if it burned them to crisp!

Focusing on the task at hand, the slime watched as something purple crackled from your skin, and its eyes widened, electro! that would be easy to cure. It jumped, but you did not notice as you slowly fell into a pit of hurt, wallowing in pity. Okay then, it jumped away and disappeared in search of a few items.

It's eyes lit up finding a purple crystal, or rather an electro crystal, So, since it had no arms or claymore, it did the first thing that popped into his mind. Crash into it, which worked after a couple of headbutts thanks to the elemental reaction 'overload' which was very neat!

Anyways, after acquiring the electro crystals and swallowing it for safe keeping (which left a weird tingling sensation in its mouth) it then went off to find some butterflies.

Finding one was easy as butterflies were not scared of a slime's presence, they were however quite flammable. The slime stared down at the numerous burnt and dead butterflies that littered the destroyed path. .

damn.

Hearing footsteps it went to its ignited state to appear menacing only to relax upon finding some hilichurls exploring the area. So without any fear, or young slime protagonist approached the hilichurls who stared at it curiously.

"olah, kucha celi beru si?" (hello, little fire what are you doing?)

The hilichurls stared at the pyro slime that spat out a few pieces of electro crystals and then stared at the many charred butterfly wings. "sama! sama!" (samachurl) The pyro slime tried to convey in its own slime voice, which sounded like a person trying to speak under water with a dry throat.

"dala?" (what?)

"creator! help! uhhh" the pyro slime tried to remember the hilichurlian language, its eyes brightening up at remembering a few important words.

"Tomo Unu!" (Help God!)

The hilichurls flinched, straightening up in a way the slime was reminded of those rigid knights. "Unu?!" (God)

"Yaya ika!" (Humans bad/Enemy!) the slime told them "Unu Mosi gusha*" (God sad).

The hilichurls then understood and from what they gathered, the slime needed the help of a sama so one of them left to return to their camp and soon enough an anemo samachurl had come. It crouched down, staring at the pieces of electro crystals and the burnt butterflies and deduced what the slime had needed.

An Insulation Potion.

OMAKE

"Upa!" The samachurl yelled and commanded pointing at the distant butterflies. And with a battle cry the hilichurls ran towards the flying insects and begun jumping high with their arms flailing in an attemt to catch them "Upa!"

One hilichurl fell face first on the hard ground and another laughed at it, his hands were closed as he had successfully caught a butterfly "Ye kucha!"

The hilichurl that had fallen had stood up and proceeded to kick the other one, due to the pain the other hilichurl clutched his knees and accidentally released the butterfly it caught.

". . nye. ."

*Mosi Gusha means "eat vegetables" but is also used as an expression of sadness. I wonder if Hilichurls don't like vegetables since they associate it with sadness or something negative.

taglist: @fantasyhopperhea @rhoswen-drake @cchiiwinkle

Also please comment what to name our little pyro slime buddy! They're gonna be one of our many best friends and companions in the story.

[strawberryblue-blog]

Stay away —Héctor Fort.

summary: Hector is a customer at the coffee shop where you work and you start to have feelings for him.

warnings: none. angst, enemies to lovers?, Hector being flirtatious and arrogant, etc.

words count: +2k.

#SEXYNOTE: This story is divided in acts, which are short stories that take place at different points in time.

—Act one.

You dismissed some customers with a smile after they thanked you for your service. You took the things from the table and walked to the counter to deposit them there.

You heard the door of the store ring open and the murmur of kids coming in as they laughed and played. You sighed taking your notepad to put it in your apron when your friend, Carla, reached for it with a knowing look.

"Enjoy your table" she teased as she watched the boys sit at their typical table.

You rolled your eyes, sticking your tongue out at her as you turned to put on your best fake smile. You could feel a few stares as you made your way towards that table, the murmurs began to hush as they noticed you standing near them.

"Hey boys" you greeted politely. "What can I get for you guys?"

Your gaze met one of theirs and you smiled slightly towards the gaze of the young man, who quickly raised his head flirtatiously. Your skin bristled as you felt a shiver down your back but you pretended to smile towards them as if nothing was wrong.

The group of football players that came every afternoon after practice, some were flirtatious, some were more shy, some were chatty and some were quieter. There was one of them in particular who had tried to get your attention every time they came over but you never let it get to you.

"The usual, Y/n, please" Ferran said with his smile. And you nodded taking note as you remembered their orders.

Even though you knew exactly what they asked for, it was part of your job to ask what they wanted. They usually had the same thing but you knew that sometimes some of them changed their choices.

They had been coming in for coffee for at least five months, almost every afternoon. And even though you thought soccer players couldn't drink coffee, it turned out they could.

Of course you knew who they were. Everyone knew, even if you weren't into that world. The coffee shop was near the Barcelona stadium. Anyone who lived here would know exactly who they were. FC Barcelona and Spanish national team players. You still tried to stay out of the way and just do your job. It wasn't like it mattered much anyway.

"Anything else?" you asked looking around as you noticed some customers calling you.

"Your phone number, linda (beautiful)" one of them mumbled and the others cheered as they heard "linda".

You bit your tongue nonchalantly. You didn't feel flattered, or embarrassed, or special. It was just the opposite.

It was disgusting.

Hector Fort. You knew perfectly well whose voice it was. His name, his reputation, his talent. He had gained a lot of fame these last months with his plays, becoming a great player and all the women in town were dying for him.

But not you.

And he had been trying to flirt with you since the first time he sat at the cafeteria tables with cheesy compliments, little hints, trying to have something from you. But you wouldn't let him.

"In your dreams, honey" you mutter low and their friends again squeak an 'uhhh' mockingly as you turn and walk away from them.

The hour passes as you continue to serve the customers. But you can't fully focus on your work, you're scattered. For some reason that word is going around in your head. It wasn't the first time he had flirted with you but this time he had had some effect on you and you didn't even know why.

But for minutes you found yourself turning your gaze to his table, looking for the author of the word. And every time you looked, he was looking at you.

Haughty, head held high and with a flirtatious smile on his perfect face.

You could even see how his friends were talking to him but he wasn't paying attention to them, you were his attention. He was looking at you like you were the only person in here and it made you shiver.

He had been looking at you for days and you know it because you used to look at him too, although then you ended up looking away to do your job.

It was the first time you were so attracted to a client but you kept pretending he was just another one, because he really was. So, you put the ideas out of your head and went back to your daily tasks.

—Act two.

Another afternoon came and this time you found yourself waiting for the group of boys. You knew they would be here any minute and for some reason you had been longing for them to arrive (or maybe just one).

It had been two days since they had come and you were beginning to feel something strange in your chest. The sound of the door chimed and you turned to greet whoever had come in but were surprised when you saw only Hector enter.

He entered quietly and sat at his table, waiting for your attention. As you greeted the pair of grandparents who were saying goodbye, you grabbed their cups and took them to the wash quickly, you had to go serve customers.

But not just any customer. Hector Fort, who for some reason made you feel nervous.

Your eyes focused on the boy sitting alone as he waited with his arms on the table, sighing and stretching his legs. You swallowed saliva and silently approached the table, wiping your sweaty hands on your apron as your heart raced faster and faster.

Why did you suddenly feel this way? You had served Hector thousands of times before with his friends. You'd been serving clients for six months now, you never got this nervous. It was just your own ideas.

"Good afternoon, what can I get for you?" you asked sounding friendly but hiding the fact that you almost had a mini heart attack.

Hector's amused look rose from the table and watched you in front of him, nervous and almost trembling. A smile appeared on his lips and you could have sworn he enjoyed watching you as your voice trembled.

"Hi, linda" he greeted flirtatiously. "Are you on the menu?" he asked as he gave a quick glance of you.

«Linda» he had used that word again. You couldn't answer his stupid question sarcastically like you used to, because your heart went into overdrive and you froze how stupid.

"Just a black coffee, please" he indicated after a second. You nodded and smiled sideways, watching him.

Why had he come alone this time? You wanted to ask him. Normally all his friends came, it was already like everyday life. He wasn't wearing his typical workout clothes like when he used to come most of the time either, so you guessed that maybe he had come from somewhere else.

He looked particularly handsome today, though. His well shaped jawline shone with his glowing skin, his static curls static, he had a carefree, relaxed look. He made no jokes, no off-hand remarks, apart from the little joke from earlier.

He looked different. More real, more human. It sounded weird but it felt that way.

"What?" he asked with a smile. "Do I have something on my face?"

Oh god. Dear lord.

You'd been staring at him like a crazy person. That must have been awkward. It was. Damn. You shook your head barely and turned, literally running away from Hector. How embarrassing. Your cheeks burned at the thought that you'd been staring at him as if you'd forgotten who he was. You closed your eyes slapping your forehead and the image of the young man came back to your mind. Your stomach churned and you had to sigh for peace in your chest.

—Act three.

You finished delivering the order to a table and sighed, walking to the counter. Gina waited for you and pointed to the group of players laughing among themselves. They were back again.

After the lonely sight of Hector you thought maybe they wouldn't come back but here they were. So as part of your job, it was your turn to serve them again. It was quicker than you thought, you walked over and took the order quickly. Although you tried not to look at him, Hector's stare had been stabbing you the whole time. So you quickly escaped from the table while they continued to watch something and laugh.

You hadn't spoken to Hector since that afternoon. You asked Carla to replace you because you felt bad, but it was a little lie so you wouldn't go back to that table. Now you were watching them all laughing together as Carla poured coffee into the cups.

"Would you give this to Pedro?" she asked with a shy smile and you smiled as you watched her cheeks turn pink.

It was a slice of strawberry cake, one she had made in the morning. She had talked to Pedro the last few days and they had gone out to dinner two nights ago. You nodded and after taking all the things, you approached the table. With a smile, you handed everyone their order and when you got to Pedro, you took the cake.

"I didn't... order this" he mumbled confused.

"On the house" you muttered giving your friend a quick glance. Pedri watched her and his eyes sparkled at the sight of Carla greeting him. His friends mumbled something and some laughed carrying him.

"Only one night in your bed and you already have girls making you desserts" you heard Hector's voice sarcastic towards Pedro, laughing along with his friends who feasted.

"You have to teach me, friend, other girls prefer to play hard to get" he muttered straight to you and some of his friends hid stifled laughter, others just looked at him confused.

Your heart froze. He was talking about you. He said it with some suspicion while pointing his gaze towards you. You idiot. Not only had he just embarrassed you he also said that about your friend, he was calling your friend easy. He was an idiot.

His mocking look confronted you and you wanted to throw your coffee on him but you weren't going to do that. He didn't even deserve your attention, so you kept serving them as if you hadn't heard that. Smiling and holding your posture to show him that he wasn't worth it.

But something inside you resonated.

What had happened to that boy who came here alone the other afternoon? He had behaved well, he hadn't made jokes, he hadn't made fun of the situation. He just sat down, ordered his coffee, paid politely and greeted you on your way out. You thought that maybe something about him was worth admiring, that maybe he wasn't a jerk like they said or he looked like.

But now... now he was back to being the arrogant idiot Hector Fort. How everyone painted him.

Your chest shrank with emptiness. Your fingers trembled as you set his mug down in front of him and you wanted to tip it over again but you didn't.

—Act four.

Several days passed and like every afternoon, the group of boys continued to visit the store. Right now they were laughing while talking and pointing at something. Today it had been your turn to be behind the counter and you were glad at a certain point, you didn't want to go near them. You could see how Carla brought her red cheeks every time she came back from that table, you knew she liked Pedri, a shy and kind young man, who used to apologize for his friends' mess sometimes.

Compared to Hector, Pedro was someone kind and humble, he would never try to go over the top like the other idiot.

Why did he think you would go out with him? You were a simple girl who only worked to live and pay for your studies. You spent most of your time cooped up here or studying, you didn't have a bulky body, you weren't famous, you didn't even like to go out. What made him think he could treat you like you were just another prude? Idiot.

His jokes were constant, about your phone number, about taking you home, about what you were wearing, about anything to say to get your attention. It was unbearable. And normally you were used to dealing with idiot men trying to flirt with you. But Hector was so much more.

"Stop looking at him!" you heard a little shriek from your friend.

You turned your head quickly toward him. Damn. You'd been staring at that idiot again. Like he was going to commit some crime and you'd be the one to stop him, hoping to catch him in the act. You were watching out for your friend. You didn't know what his next move would be and Carla wasn't an object for him to appreciate. But you knew that was a pitiful lie. You were looking at him.

"I wasn't watching" you say nonchalantly as you brewed coffee in the machine and started it up.

"He's asking about you" he mentioned and your heart skipped a beat.

You relamiste your lip ignoring his comment but your body shuddered. You had been hiding behind the machines, in the kitchen, dodging his gaze, trying to go unnoticed. For some reason you were beginning to feel different around him and you wanted to eliminate any kind of empathy you felt for Hector.

He was a casanova. A womanizer. A jerk.

But you were starting to feel things for him. Like that time he flirted about your sweater or when he noticed you'd cut your hair, no one had ever noticed before. How he smiled at you as you set the coffee down in front of him or the time when his fingers caressed yours when he took the cup from your hands to help you. Your world stopped.

Ever since then you couldn't stop thinking about him. About his damn perfect face, his curly hair that you had wanted to stick your fingers in and comb through, about his muscular arms and the tattoo that covered his forearm. You had definitely lost your mind. You couldn't like him.

So since then you had tried to change your place with Carla during the evenings. You didn't even want to see him from afar. You needed to move on and ignore any feelings that grew in you. You were just a simple coffee server. He was all you would ever have.

—Act five.

After a long day in the cafeteria, you had finally finished serving the last customers of the day. Carla and your manager had already gone home and you were finishing up your business.

It had been a quiet afternoon, especially since the football group hadn't shown up today. But you tried not to make a big deal of it.

It was all gone.

Your little feelings for Hector, they were gone. Your mind was now clearer since you had started dating one of your classmates, nothing serious but at least your mind was occupied with something else. You clearly didn't like Hector, you were just a little persuaded by his constant flirting and you were over him.

So you had gone back to work as a waitress, ignoring the guy who was still trying to get close.

You had started to get along better with some of them, Ferran used to come up to the counter when you were there, he would talk to you and Carla. Sometimes they were joined by Alejandro or Pedro, two other nice and attentive guys.

When everything was ready inside, you left the premises and locked it with the key, making sure it was secure. It was late at night and you would change home today, there was nice weather and you weren't too far away, the streets were empty and it wasn't a dangerous area.

"Hey..." someone greeted and your hand shook as you held the lock.

Your body froze and even though your back was turned you knew exactly who it was. You gulped, catching your breath to slowly turn around. Surprised you watched the boy approach with his hands in his pocket and his gaze expectant.

"Oh, hi" you greeted in confusion. "Sorry, we're closed" you indicated pointing to the shop.

"I know, I was expecting that actually" he mentioned and you raised your eyebrows.

Had I been waiting for you to close? What did that mean?

"For what exactly?" you ask confused.

"To walk you home" he replies and your blood freezes. You are speechless.

Had he been waiting for you to close the place so he could take you home? Did he know you were due to close today or was he just passing by? He hadn't come to the coffee shop yesterday, nor today and you guessed it was because in a few days they would be traveling out of the country for an important match, as you had heard from Ferran.

"You don't have to" you say stowing your things in your bag.

"But I want to, if you let me" he takes a step forward and stands close to you. His deep gaze makes you sigh.

"It's not far. Better go home, Hector" you indicate starting to walk down the sidewalk.

You don't want any trouble. You don't want to owe anyone any favors, least of all him. It's not a bad way, you can just walk yourself home.

You sigh when you feel his footsteps behind you, following you. You turn a little and see him walking a few feet behind you, his hands in his pockets and his gaze fixed on you.

You stop. He stops. You start walking again. He walks back. You stop again and he stops again.

Your belly rumbles and you close your eyes as you feel the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. What is he supposed to do? Follow you home? Doesn't he understand your words? Or maybe he's just trying to protect you? No. He wouldn't do that, he doesn't have to.

Feelings start to well up in your chest and you feel like you're starting to suffocate. Having him around makes you feel like this. You don't want to feel this. You don't want to fall back into his nets.

"What do you want from me, Hector?" you ask tiredly turning around completely.

When your gaze meets yours your barriers fall. You'd been putting yourself in all this time saying you were over him. You had been pretending but you couldn't do it anymore. You liked Hector.

"I just want to walk you home" he murmurs low and slow.

"Why?" you insist. His gaze glows in the darkness like lanterns as he takes several steps towards you.

There is an overwhelming silence and with your gaze you ask him for explanations. Hector scratches the back of his neck nervously and stands up straight.

"Because I like you" he spits without preamble and your body freezes. "Haven't I made that clear enough to you these past few months?"

You shake your head. He's playing with you. You can't like a soccer player, not someone famous and handsome like him. You're a gamble. Surely he and his friends planned it all while you fell for it like a fool.

"No, you just want to play with me" you almost scream exhausted.

"Why do you think that?" he questions confused and takes another step. ""Is it because we are different?"

You deny again and want to turn to continue on your way but he stops you. His hand encircles yours and he spins you around, you fall onto his chest and your hands rest on his muscles as his hands wrap around your waist.

Your heart starts pounding as you notice how close they are, his breath mingles with yours and you swallow a sigh. Your eyes drop down to his mouth and you're dying to touch his lips, full, marked and appetizing. All your skin bristles as you feel his hands on you, you want to touch his face, his skin, his mouth, his neck. You want him to wrap his arms around you, to hold you, to kiss you.

And he does it. And you let him. His lips crash against yours and you merge in a strong and passionate kiss. His lips are warm and tasty and they kiss fleetingly feeling.

Your chest squeezes with mixed feelings that you thought had vanished. But in reality they haven't. As hard as it is for you to admit, you're in love with Hector. But he's not for you. You are not for him.

Your hands rest on his chest and you shoot out of his kiss, moving away from him.

"I can't" an overwhelming sigh leaves your lips. He looks at you confused and tries to get closer but you stop him.

Your head is dizzy and your lips are burning to kiss him again. But you can't.

"Listen to me, please" he tries to say it but you deny it. "I like you, ¿okay? A lot. I want to be with you" He insists on taking a step but you take another step back.

The butterflies in your stomach make you scared. He's not for you. You don't even know him. You can't.

"I don't want to have you around, stay away from my life" you scream with tears in your eyes before you turn and start running in some direction.

Tears fall down your eyes but this is the best thing for you. For both of us.

—Act six.

Since that night you have never been the same. Your feelings for Hector have grown inside you and now every time the door rings you expect him to be the one who enters the cafeteria. But he doesn't.

Hector hasn't come in since that night, especially after you asked him to leave you alone. He really did. He just stopped coming, stopped insisting. Maybe you overreacted that night or were too harsh and now you feel guilty. He took the news of her walking away very seriously and you were starting to feel your heart breaking.

The worst thing is that you yourself had broken your heart. Being afraid to love or at least to accept that someone could love you. That's what you wanted to think, but Hector wasn't someone for you. You didn't deserve him, you were just a girl who works to survive.

You two could never have anything. You didn't even know if you were really something to Hector. Maybe he was just messing with you and you were here losing your mind.

You walk slowly and depressed to his table, as you have been doing for the past two weeks. Your classmates are there, laughing and chatting as usual. But he's not there.

"Hey guys," you greet barely. "What can I get for you?" you repeat listlessly.

The players greet you and make their requests as they always do for almost seven months now. You want to ask about him, you want to know about him. But you don't know how to say it. You don't even know if you have the right to know. But you think you could take the risk.

"Isn't Hector... coming today?" you try to ask without sounding curious. His friends look at you in denial.

"He stopped coming with us" says one of them. "He says he has to do things" he explains.

I don't think he has anything to do. He just doesn't want to come here anymore. And that breaks your heart.

"He was the one who was excited to come before but now he stopped coming" says another laughing. "We actually got to know this place through him and I think it was the best decision to come here."

Your heart breaks into a thousand pieces. You smile, feeling your eyes sting from holding back tears.

"Thanks guys" you can barely say with your voice in a trickle. You turn on your heels weakly and begin to walk away from them.

Your chest burns and you start to feel like crying. You did that. You hurt him. You told him to stay away and now you ruined everything. All because of your fucking fear of loving someone. Someone like him.

Hector Fort, Barcelona player and Spanish national team player. The boy who has inhabited your heart for the last seven months.

The man you're in love with.

[roses-r-rosie3]

Best Friend’s Brother

Jason Todd x M!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, implied smut, crack-ish

Summary: Jason meets Roy’s brother (the reader) and they start dating

Quote: “OH MY GOD STOP TEXTING Y/N AND GO TO SLEEP!”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You and Jason first met when your brother, Roy, invited you to hangout at his place. Jason knew that Roy had a brother, but he had never seen you up until that point. You however, haven’t heard of Jason at all. Needless to say you were immediately mesmerized when you first saw Jason.

“Roy never told me he had such hot friends” you flirted.

“And Roy never told me how hot his brother was” Jason replied.

“Ew, Go get a room” Roy Fake-gagged.

Needless to say, you both ended up getting each other’s number by the end of the night. You two texted the whole night. Roy could hear Jason giggling and chuckling through the walls.

“OH MY GOD STOP TEXTING Y/N AND GO TO SLEEP!” Roy yelled out.

Little would Roy know, he would have deal with more of that in the future.

While texting you, Jason found out that you were also a vigilante going under the name ‘Arrowhead’. You still vividly remember Roy making fun of you when you picked out that name (he still does).

Fast forward a few weeks and you and Jason went on your first date and started dating shortly after that. As much as Roy pretended to not be a fan, he secretly (not so secretly) supported the both of you.

After the two of you got together, you had lots of dates with Jason. Some of them at a restaurant, some of them at amusement parks, some of them at museums, but a lot of them were at Jason and Roy’s apartment. Even though your dates would sometime be interrupted by Roy accidentally walking inside, it was always something special.

While we’re on the topic of Roy accidentally walking in on things, he has walked in on you and Jason making out on Jason’s bed countless times, even to the point where Roy doesn’t even try to act surprised anymore.

You also started going on missions with them. Jason had never seen you in your vigilante costume up until that moment. But when he did, he quickly pulled you in a random alleyway… and.. let’s just say you both had to give your suit a deep clean after that.

What Jason also noticed though, was that you were extremely skilled with a bow and arrow, dare he say maybe even better than Roy. And oh boy, as soon as Jason even mentioned your skills to Roy, Roy would immediately tell embarrassing stories about you.

“Hey y/n said that-”

“Oh he thinks he’s mr perfect? Did you know that when we were little he used to be so scared of bunnies that if u even held one near him he would start pissing his pants?! HA! SUCK IT!” Roy blurted out.

“ROY!” You shouted.

“Uhhh.. I was just going to tell you that y/n said he made dinner” Jason said.

“Oh… ignore what I said!” Roy laughed nervously.

[bitchesuntitled]

Memories

Summary: What happens when your husband, Dieter, forgets who you are?

Warnings: 18+ minors get outta here! Cursing, fluff, smut, feel good, oral(f receiving), fingering(f receiving), probably not like realistic medical knowledge but it’s fiction 🤷‍♀️

A/N: Thank you so much @papipascalispunk for editing. @jay-zzle for the idea AND the mood board 😍❤️ I really liked writing this and had a lot of fun with it. Hope y’all like it! @schnarfer(it's here!)

Masterlist||AO3 Link

“Wait, who said we can’t have fruit bars anymore?” you ask, turning from the pantry to look at your seven year old daughter, Luna, sitting at the kitchen island.

“Daddy,” Luna states matter of factly, “He said that it’s fake food and we should only eat organic stuff.”

“Yeah, we need organic food,” your son Leo pipes in from the seat next to her. At three years old, he is currently in the copy everything big sister says or does phase.

“So, what do you want as a snack in your lunch box then?” you ask, raising your eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

“Uhhh… banana?” Luna shrugs, “Daddy wasn’t very specific on what I should eat instead.”

“Okay but get your breakfast eaten before your cereal gets soggy,” you say, pointing at both before starting on the dishes.

Of course Dieter would be the one to tell the kids not to eat certain foods. The man scolds you every time he sees your Bluetooth headphones – droning on and on about the effects it’ll have on your brain waves and how it’s going to damage your mind. Your relationship with Dieter was a bit of a chaotic whirlwind, meeting randomly on the set of one of the movies he starred in, one your friend was working on the set of.

“Well, hello there,” Dieter had said, standing next to you by the craft table. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“Excuse me?” you asked, looking around to see who he was actually talking to.

“Or should I walk by again?” he said with a smile.

“Is that how you get all the girls?” you asked, picking up a piece of cheese and pointing it at him, “Because that shit was pretty cheesy if you ask me.”

“No, trying something new,” Dieter said, cracking up into a giant fit of laughter. “Sorry, sorry. That– yeah, that was pretty good.”

“Bravo needed on set!” someone with a headset shouted in the distance, frantically waving at him.

“Guess that’s my cue,” he sighed, “Hope to see you ar– wait, what’s your name?”

You introduce yourself and he takes your hand, kissing the back of it.

“Pleased to meet you,” he said, repeating your name and winking, “Hope to see you around.”

That was the conversation that started it all nearly eight years ago. Within the first year of knowing Dieter, you were married and pregnant – and no – it wasn’t a shotgun wedding, as much as the tabloids tried to pin it as one.

“Dieter Bravo and Mystery Woman Seen Leaving Las Vegas Wedding Chapel”

“Dieter Bravo Expecting First Child with New Wife – Shotgun Wedding?”

“How Long Before Dieter Bravo Gets His First Divorce?”

You both just knew you were meant to be together. With the birth of Luna, he had sobered up completely. These days he hardly even drinks beer. It’s weird in a way, that he’s changed so much from who you first met, but still the same Dieter in every other aspect. Wild, spontaneous, creative, romantic, chaotic at times, and so loving.

–

“Good morning, my babies,” Dieter says, waltzing into the kitchen, giving each of his kids a kiss on the top of their heads.

“Hi, Daddy,” Luna and Leo exclaim.

“Hello, my love,” Dieter smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist giving you a sloppy smooch on the cheek.

“Ew,” Luna shouts, making gagging noises.

“Yeah, what Luna said!” Leo says, copying his older sister with fake gagging.

“Stop with the fake gagging,” he replies, looking at them, “You’ll make mommy sick.”

“Hi, babe,” you laugh, “Someone’s in a good mood this morning.”

“I want to start doing my own stunts like Tom Cruise,” Dieter explains excitedly, “And I think I’m going to crush it today! I’m supposed to scale a building, don’t worry, everything is going to be totally safe.”

“Seriously, Dieter?” you sigh, “You may say that it’s safe but I’m still going to worry – please be safe.”

Dieter gasps, putting his hand to his chest as if he were clutching a set of pearls. “Babies, I don’t think mommy trusts daddy!”

“Momma,” Leo laughs, perching up on the chair more, “Daddy be fine!”

“Yeah, momma,” Dieter says with a grin, “Daddy be fine.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say, snorting and shaking your head, looking at your watch you realize you’re going to be cutting it close in getting Luna to school on time. “Shit!”

“Mommy,” Luna scolds, “You shouldn’t say bad words like that!”

“Luna, hurry up with your cereal or else you’re going to be late for school again,” you say as you turn to Dieter who is rummaging in the fridge for his own breakfast. “What time do you have to be on set?”

“In about an hour, get her to school. My favorite son and I will be fine here at home. If need be, I’ll tell the director that I’m going to be late. Family first,” he says, “Not like they’d fire me at this point. I’m the entire reason people are going to want to see this movie.”

“I love you so much,” you say, giving him a kiss before ushering Luna out the door.

“Love you too, baby!” Dieter shouts.

–

“I’m back,” you announce from the front door.

“That didn’t take as long as I expected,” Dieter chuckles, “I gotta get headed to the studio though.” He scoops Leo up into a tight hug, “We'll play superhero when I get back home, okay?”

“Otay,” Leo says, pouting.

“Poor baby,” Dieter coos and glances up at you with a smirk, “You sure you don’t want another one?”

“Dieter,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck, “We’ve talked about this. If it feels right, then maybe, but right now? No.”

“Fine,” Dieter groans, “But the moment you think it feels right, tell me?”

“Promise,” you smirk.

Dieter tells Leo goodbye with the promise of playing superheroes when he gets back home. Your mind begins to wander back to Dieter’s question about another baby as you go about your chores. You start smiling thinking back to when you first decided to start trying for a baby –  lying in bed together shortly after getting married.

“How many kids do you want?” Dieter asked, playing with the wedding band on your finger.

“I’d always imagined three honestly,” you smiled, “Why?”

“I want whatever you want,” he grinned, slotting himself between your legs again. “But if you wanted at least one I wouldn’t mind trying now.”

“D, we just got married a month ago,” you said, shaking your head, “Is that the only reason you married me? To have a baby?”

“Of course not, baby,” Dieter said, linking his fingers with yours and pinning them above your head, “I just know I really, really want them with you.”

“Oh yeah?” you whispered, tilting your head up to capture his lips. He moaned into your mouth, slowly grinding his stiffness against you.

“Yes,” he panted, breaking the kiss.

“Let’s do it then,” you said, nipping his bottom lip, “Fuck a baby into me, Dieter.”

“Fuck yeah, baby,” he groaned.

“Momma!” Leo shouts, pulling you from your thoughts, “Your phone.”

You had been so deep in the memory you didn’t even notice your phone ringing. It’s just Dieter, probably checking in to see how your day is going. He tends to do that while he’s on breaks at work.

“Well, hello, Tom Cruise,” you answer, giggling – except it isn’t Dieter on the other end. 

Instead, you hear his assistant, Andy, saying your name before, “Dieter’s been in an accident. I’m almost to your house, I’ll watch Leo so you can go to Cedars-Sinai medical,” quickly spills out of his mouth, “It’s not good.”

–

It’s been two weeks that you’ve sat beside his bed in this damn hospital, waiting for him to wake up. The doctors are all hopeful that he’ll wake up at any minute, but it’s been two days since he’s been off the ventilator, and nothing has happened yet. The kids keep asking where their dad is, and you don’t have any other answer than he’s sick. 

“Dieter,” you beg, holding onto his hand, “Babe, please wake up. We need you. Luna and Leo miss you – I miss you. Please just wake up.”

The nurse comes in to check Dieter’s vitals for the third time today. Since she’s keeping him company, you decide to head to the cafeteria to get some food, grabbing something simple before heading back to Dieter’s room. When you return, you notice a flurry of activity.

“Mr. Bravo, can you tell me what year it is?” a doctor asks, shining a small flashlight in his eyes.

“Of course I can, dumbass! It’s 2016,” Dieter snaps. “Now will you stop shining that light in my eye?”

“What’s going on?” you ask hesitantly.

“He woke up while you went to get food,” a nurse explains, “We’re trying to make sure mentally he’s with us.”

“Oh, for fuck sake!” Dieter cries out, “I’m fine, never felt better! There, she must be my new assistant.”

All eyes turn to you. This was a possibility the doctor had talked about before – temporary amnesia. Hopefully that’s all it is. The doctor motions you to follow him out of the room.

“He seems to have hit his head harder than we thought. In all honesty, I would try to play pretend with him for a little bit. Try thinking of things that might remind him of who he actually is today,” the doctor suggests. “I’m so sorry Mrs. Bravo.”

Dieter is having a conniption in the room while nurses are trying to calm him down. As you step back in, you see your husband frantically disconnecting and throwing the wires off of his body and onto the floor. 

“Where the fuck is my assistant?” Dieter yells.

“Dieter, D, baby – Mr. Bravo!” you shout and Dieter immediately freezes, eyes wide as saucers. “You need to calm down before you hurt yourself.”

“What happened?” Dieter asks, looking around at everyone.

“We’ll give you guys some space,” a nurse says quietly while ushering the others out of the room. You grab the chair next to his bed and sit down, reaching for his hand but stopping yourself as you notice your ring. Right now, this isn’t your husband. This is Dieter Bravo who believes it’s the year 2016.

“You were in an accident, you hit your head pretty good,” you start explaining to him, “You’ve been in a coma for two weeks now.”

“So, who are you?” he asks, looking you up and down with a raised eyebrow. “I knew my team wanted to hire me a new assistant since things didn’t work out with the last one – didn’t realize they’d pick someone so hot. Would you wanna have sex with me?”

“Dieter, I don’t think you’re cleared for those types of activities,” you chuckle, “I’m here for whatever you might need though.”

“Can you get me my phone?” he asks with those puppy-dog eyes he does best.

“Sure,” you reach for your purse digging around and find his phone, handing it over to him. “The passcode is 332016”

“The fuck? Why would I change it from the classic 42069?” he asks, looking at you with confusion.

“It’s uh… an important day to you,” you say, looking away, not wanting him to see the tears forming in your eyes. The day you met. 

“So, did I have an accident on set?”

“Yeah, you were scaling a building and the cable holding you snapped. You fell a good distance and smacked your head on the ground.”

“Wait,” Dieter says looking at his phone calendar, pointing it towards you, “Why does this say it’s 2024?”

“Because it’s not 2016,” you shrug, “It’s 2024.”

“How long have I been in a fucking coma?” Dieter asks, starting to panic again, frantically searching through the contacts in his phone, “Why can’t I find my dealer's number? I need coke. Wait, you’re my fucking assistant – go get me coke!”

“You’ve only been in a coma for two weeks and the only coke I’ll get you is Coca Cola,” you say crossing your arms, “I won’t let you have drugs in m– the house, Dieter.”

“Wait, my assistant lives with me?” he gasps, “You’re just supposed to come when I call you.”

“Different kind of assistant here.”

“Wait, I can’t have you in my house! I see that ring on your finger – I don’t want to get in between a marriage,” Dieter says, pointing at your left hand.

“It’s– it’s complicated right now,” you shrug.

“Fine, stay in my house, but stay out of my way,” Dieter sighs in frustration.

This is going to be a lot harder than you thought. He doesn’t remember who you are to him. He doesn’t remember getting clean when he married you. He doesn’t remember anything. Going home that night doesn’t help either because Luna wants to know what’s going on with her dad.

“Andy said that daddy woke up!” Luna says vibrating with excitement, “How come he’s not home?

“I had to leave him at the hospital because he’s still sick, honey.” You sit down on the plush couch in the living room, “Come here. I wanna talk to you about something.”

“Okay,” Luna hesitantly says, coming to sit next to you.

“Daddy is still sick. He looks fine but his brain is sick right now.”

“What’s that mean?” she questions, looking at you with the same eyes as her father.

“He doesn’t remember some stuff about his life right now,” you continue, “But we are gonna try to help him get it back. We have to think of the best memories we have with daddy so that maybe he’ll remember better.”

“So, we have to fix daddy?” she asks with tears in her eyes as you grab her into a hug, stroking her hair.

“Yeah, sweet girl, we have to fix daddy,” you say, trying not to cry yourself.

–

What was supposed to only be a few days turned into a week at the hospital. A week of playing Dieter’s assistant and having him boss you around. He was still adamant on getting drugs, but you put your foot down on that one. You weren’t going to let him ruin his seven years of sobriety just because he lost his memory.

“Alright Mr. Bravo looks like you’re all set to leave. Just need you to sign a couple of papers here and then you can be on your way,” the doctor says, handing him the papers.

“Fucking finally,” Dieter groans, “Not that this isn’t a wonderful hospital, but I’d much rather be home.”

“Of course,” the doctor says.

“Will you go ahead and bring the car around? I’d rather not walk too much considering my condition,” Dieter asks, looking at you.

“Of course, D– Mr. Bravo,” you grit through your teeth with the most customer service smile you can muster. That was a new development, Dieter wanting you only to refer to him as Mr. Bravo. You rush out of the room so that it doesn’t blow up into another argument. He’s already tried to fire you twice because of the no drugs thing. You had to make up some story of how you’re in a five-year contract that cannot be broken and tell him three times before he finally bought the story.

Pulling the car around to the front of the hospital, you see him being wheeled out.

“Thank you again so much for taking care of me,” he says, winking at the nurse, “Best care I’ve ever received!”

“No problem at all, Dieter,” she giggles. 

“Could I possibly get your number?” Dieter asks, looking expectantly at the nurse after getting settled into the passenger seat of the car. She shakes her head violently.

“No, sorry,” she says before running off wheeling the wheelchair back into the building.

“Well, that was fucking weird,” Dieter says, looking at you. “Did I do something wrong? Most women don’t literally run from me like that.”

“No, Mr. Bravo, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you growl, “Nothing at all.”

You begin to play a song you hope might bring back some sort of memory of you. With all the hope you can muster you hit play and hear Clint Eastwood by Gorillaz, one of the songs you guys would listen to while you got high together. Dieter starts to chuckle listening to the song.

“What?” you snap at him.

“It’s just this song,” Dieter said grinning, “It reminds me of someone.”

“Oh?” you ask, trying not to pry too much hoping he’ll just continue talking.

“Yeah, I can’t remember what her name is, though. Good lay, that’s for damn sure,” he says, laughing a little, “All I remember is she wasn’t even in the business, she’d call me out on all my shit, and we would smoke weed together listening to this song a lot. I think that’s why I liked her. Wonder what she’s up to these days?”

“Oh um… who knows, maybe she’s still in town?” Your heart swells realizing he’s talking about you, that he remembers some remnants of you. 

“No way!” Dieter says and sighs, “Way too fucking good for someone like me anyways. Probably found some nice guy, got married, has kids, the whole white picket fence shit and everything. She was way out of my league.”

Pulling up to the house you don’t even know what to say to him. He looks almost defeated in a way and then looks confused when he sees the front door opening.

“Oh no,” you whisper, watching Luna run to the car, “Dieter, wait here. Do not move!”

“Why the fuck are there children at my house?” he asks while you’re getting out, but you shut the door behind you, ignoring him.

“Luna, baby, I need you to go back into the house. Daddy’s sick, remember?” you say, trying to usher her back up the driveway.

“Mommy!” Leo shrieks, running to you.

“Fuck – I mean fudge,” Andy says, frantically running out to the driveway, “I was in the bathroom. She must’ve heard the car, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“The hell is going on here?” Dieter’s voice booms while getting out of the car, “I asked you why there are kids in my house.”

“Da–” Luna starts, but you cut her off.

“You two, inside. Now,” you say, ushering them towards Andy. Once they’re inside you whip around to look at Dieter standing by the car.

“You,” you snarl, walking towards him, “Screw what the doctor said. I’ve had enough of this shit. I’m not your fucking assistant so stop bossing me around. I’m your wife – those two are our children!”

“Wha–” Dieter stares at you with wide eyes, “D– DNA Test, I want a fucking DNA test!”

“Dieter, there isn’t a need for a DNA test because they’re your kids. I mean, did you even look at them?”

“Those are not my kids, they look Latino,” he argues.

“Dieter!” you yell, “You are Latino.”

“Oh, yeah,” he whispers, looking down. “So, you’re my wife?”

“Yes, Dieter, I’m your wife. I’m the girl that would get high with you listening to Clint Eastwood.”

“Wild,” he says looking at the house, the ground below him, the yard, anywhere but you “Wild.”

–

It’s been a week at home now, but Dieter is trying his hardest to regain his memory after you lay everything out on the table for him. You show him pictures of your Las Vegas wedding, your pregnancy photos, the kids’ births – he finally relents to the truth when you show him their birth certificates with his name listed under Father. Luna has been trying to show him drawings that she’s done for him, but nothing is working. Poor Leo just wants to play superheroes, but at just three years old, he doesn’t understand what’s going on at all.

One night, after you put the kids to bed, Dieter comes to your bedroom.

“What if we had sex?” he suggests.

“Dieter, I don’t know if that would be a good idea,” you groan, flopping onto the bed rubbing your eyes.

“I’m just saying, what if we did?” he shrugs, “Was just a suggestion, but I get it.”

“Come here,” you say, patting the spot next to you in bed. He reluctantly sits down next to you as you open your arms as an invitation. “How about we cuddle?”

He nods, setting his head on your chest. You can tell he didn’t know what to do with his hands because he’s so tense. You grab one of them and push it around your back, hoping he’ll understand your silent suggestion. 

“Like this?” he whispers, carefully adjusting both arms to wrap around you.

“Just like that,” you hum, stroking the curls at the base of his neck, breathing his scent in for the first time in weeks. Clean laundry, a hint of eucalyptus, and something that’s so specifically Dieter.

“I like this,” Dieter purs, rubbing his head against your chest, “I wish so badly I could just remember everything.”

“I know D, I know,” you sigh, continuing to gently stroke his head, “We’ll get there.”

Dieter moves so his head is in the crook of your neck. You feel his lips begin to place soft kisses against your skin.

“Dieter,” you gasp, turning your head to look at him, “What are you doing?”

“I wanna make you feel better,” he says, giving you those puppy dog eyes you can never refuse. “You’ve had to deal with a lot and this is the only way I know how to try and make things right.”

“Okay,” you whisper, nodding your head. As much as you’ve avoided intimacy with Dieter while his memory was gone, he’s still your Dieter and you miss him. 

He starts nipping along your jaw and down your neck. One of his hands moves to your breast gently kneading it. His lips move down your throat to your chest, making his way down to your stomach and pushing your shirt up. He places several kisses around your navel down to the top of your underwear, looking up at you again for confirmation. “It’s okay,” you nod, giving him the go ahead. He peels them off your hips and down your legs, throwing them to the floor.

Without warning he flattens his tongue, licking a stripe up your seam. Working his tongue against your clit and back down to your entrance. Up and down, up and down.

“Fuck, baby, I’ve missed this,” you cry out, running your fingers through his hair, “Feels so fucking good!”

Dieter starts humming, loving the praise you were giving him. His tongue continues circling your bundle of nerves, hoping to hear more words of praise.

“Taste so fucking good,” he says breaking away, “Best pussy I’ve ever had.”

You grip his hair tightly and shove his face back to your core. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you can feel your orgasm approaching.

“Please don’t stop,” you moan, “I’m so fucking close!”

Dieter doubles down his efforts after hearing those words. He’s determined to get you off now. One of his hands makes its way to your center, teasing your entrance before plunging two of his thick fingers inside, curling them up to hit that spot only he’s ever been able to reach.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out, back arching, “Y– yes, just like that!”

He starts grunting, rutting into the mattress, so badly needing to make you come. He knows you’re close, listening to your breathing and hearing the pitch of your moans. 

“D,” you moan, while he grabs your thighs, pulling you unbelievably closer to his face to completely devour you before sliding his fingers back into you. “I’m gonna come!”

“Give it to me, baby, come on,” he says, pulling away panting before diving back in for more, “I need it”. He feels the way your legs begin to shake, your walls fluttering around his fingers.

“Fuck,” you hiss, head thrown back against the pillow closing your eyes, “I– I’m gonna… god.”

Dieter feels your walls constrict around his fingers and hums, collecting your release slowly. He takes his time licking you clean before you push him away, feeling overly sensitive. When you finally open your eyes to look at him, you notice his smile and a glint in his eyes. He crawls back up the length of your body and you grab his face, kissing him deeply tasting yourself on his tongue.

“I can’t believe you married me,” he says, breaking the kiss and wrapping his arms around you again, “Love me forever?”

“Dieter, I’m pretty sure I’ve already proven that I’ll love you forever,” you softly chuckle, beginning to stroke his back.

–

The doctor keeps saying to just be patient, that it’s going to take time for Dieter’s memory to return. But it feels like it’s been forever as another week passes. Everyone is getting frustrated, especially Leo.

“Why is daddy broke?” Leo screams at the top of his lungs, “He no play with me!”

“Leo, Daddy just doesn’t feel good,” you try to explain.

“He no like me!” Leo wails, “He only likes Luna.”

“Leo, daddy does too like you,” you try telling him, “He loves you very much.” 

“No,” Leo cries as you scoop him up as he buries his face into your shoulder.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby. It’s okay,” you soothe.

It wasn’t that Dieter wasn’t trying with the kids, he just didn’t know how. His dad instincts hadn’t been brought back full-force. He was great with Luna –  engaged in conversation with her, drew pictures with her, watched her put on fashion shows. With Leo though, he didn’t know how to interact with a toddler. Leo would get upset and Dieter didn’t know what to do besides call you for help. Before Dieter’s accident Leo was his little buddy, followed him everywhere, would play with him for hours being superheroes or whatever Leo decided on that day.

You were able to get Leo to calm down and because of his tantrum he wound up falling asleep. After putting him in his bed for a nap you went to search for Dieter.

“Hey,” you sigh, seeing him standing by the window looking into the backyard.

“Hey,” he says sniffling, wiping his sleeve against his nose, “I’m so sorry.”

“Dieter, I’m not the one you should be saying sorry to. Leo misses you! I know that you’re trying, I do, but I need you to try harder for him,” you sigh, “I can’t pretend that I even know what you’re going through, but our baby boy is hurting because he misses his dad!”

“I know,” Dieter says turning around, you could now see the tears falling down his face, “It’s just… he scares me! It’s easier with Luna because I can understand every word she says, she can show me things, she doesn’t throw a tantrum every five minutes.”

“Dieter, he’s your son! Not some little monster to be scared of! He’s three and doesn’t know any better,” you scold him, “Like I said, I just need you to try.”

“Okay,” Dieter agrees, wiping the tears off his face, “When he wakes up from his nap, I’ll try.”

Dieter could hear Leo awake in his room as he slowly made his way there.

“Dad-Bomb an’ dude-bomb! To rescue!” Leo says, jumping off his bed with a cape around his shoulders. Dieter stands in the doorway observing him. Why did that sound so familiar? Dad-Bomb.

“Hey Leo,” Dieter says cautiously, “What are you playing?”

“Superhero,” Leo smiles, “Want to play with me?”

“Can I?” Dieter exclaims, “I’ve always wanted to be a superhero!”

“Yeah!” Leo shouts, running to his closet to grab something. He comes back out with a big purple cape with D-B on the back, handing it to Dieter. “Put on your cape.”

Dieter pulls the cape around his neck, tying it so it wouldn’t fall off. He notices Leo’s little green cape he was wearing also had D-B on the back.

“Do we have names, Leo?” Dieter asks, “I can’t help but see we have stuff on the back of our super-awesome capes!”

“I’m Dude-Bomb, you’re Dad-Bomb!” Leo gleefully exclaims 

“Dad-Bomb?”

“Yeah, like ‘da-bomb’ –  means super cool,” Leo giggles.This was starting to feel extremely familiar to Dieter. 

Leo scampers off to his closet again, rummaging through it trying to find something. He comes back holding a piece of paper and hands it to Dieter. Dieter holds it up, staring at it. His drawing of Dad-Bomb and Dude-Bomb, fighting crime together, and it all comes rushing back.

“Oh my god, Leo,” Dieter yells.

He picks Leo up, swinging him around. Hearing the commotion, you start running towards Leo’s room fearing the worst. Rounding the corner into the room, you saw Dieter crying, hugging Leo tightly and swinging him back and forth.

“Dad-Bomb and Dude-Bomb!” Dieter exclaims, grinning from ear to ear.

“Yeah, that’s you an’ me!” Leo announces proudly.

“Everything okay?” you ask quietly, looking at both of them.

“Yeah. March 3, 2016 – that’s the day I met you,” Dieter says, tears rolling down his face.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “Baby.”

“Yeah, baby. It’s all back,” he says, setting Leo back down and rushing to grab you in a tight embrace, “I’m back.”

[shima-draws]

WOO HOO EZIO'S HERE 👏

As always more info about him under the cut <3

Name: Ezio

Age: 27

Hair color: White

Eye color: Red

Element: None

Ezio's a runaway who cast off his life as a noble and is now adventuring freely with Nahu and co.! He was never one for the stuffy upper class life he grew up in, and has been trying to outrun his legacy for ages. Nahu and the others don't even know he's from a high class society and when they do find out, needless to say they are shocked because Ezio was the LAST person they expected among all of them to have a fancy shmancy background.

It's not something he necessarily tries to keep secret; he just views it as something that's not part of him anymore. However he still does have ties to that world--there's a girl he grew up with and who is a close friend of his that he's actually engaged to. Neither of them want anything to do with the engagement, and said friend was more than encouraging when it came to Ezio cutting ties with his status and running off.

Ezio's extremely independent and self-sufficient! He knows very well how to handle himself in most aspects of life. He's also very stoic and quiet most of the time, preferring actions over words. When it comes to combat he's one of the strongest members of the team, being an expert at sword wielding and hand-to-hand. Considering he's a non-elemental that's pretty impressive.

He's also stupidly loyal and ridiculously self sacrificial (but like, most of the group are too so he's not special in that regard. LMAO) He's got a very unhealthy attachment to Nahu and probably needs to go to therapy. Ezio will put Nahu above everybody else, no matter what the situation, even if he has to betray other members of the group. He is the definition of Ride or Die. (He cares about them tho of course!! He loves them all very much, Nahu's just his top priority in all cases.) He's down BAD for Nahu and everybody knows it except for Nahu :)))) Main reasoning behind this stems from the fact that Nahu was probably the first person Ezio met that was actually genuine and not plastic and fake like all the people he grew up around. Nahu beat up some people hired to bring Ezio home and then smiled at him one (1) time and that was IT. He was done for. He will now die for Nahu and follow him to the ends of the earth. End of story

(This comes back to bite him in the ass later bc Nahu uhhh disappears for Reasons™ and Ezio spirals HARD. Cue him going off on his own and disregarding the rest of the squad bc he literally cannot fathom living without Nahu. Again. THERAPY)

Ezio's actually a shockingly good dancer, too (dance lessons growing up), but he adamantly refuses to dance with anybody who can't keep up with him. Which is basically most of the group. The only person who can is Ione, because of her idol background. Everyone is jealous of her for this. LOL

He's also fluent in multiple languages (again, noble background) including sign language, so he and Sage are the only ones capable of communicating with Ione for a while until they teach everyone else :"D

Due to his upbringing he's uhh. Emotionally constipated lol. It's definitely a learning curve for him trying to actually show his feelings and be truthful about them. This is something he generally struggles with but luckily he's got the best group of friends anybody could ask for who support him through everything. EVEN his simping 😂

[talesofely]

Filipino Perks

Pairings : Natasha Romanoff x Reader (gn, i think)

Summary : You and Natasha were assigned by Fury to get intel from a private art exhibit while you were on a date. However, Fury failed to give you tickets so now you're stuck in the car with absolutely no way to get in... or is there?

Warnings : Nothing, just one mention of y/f/n, which means your fake name. Readers' a liar.

Note : first fic! hopefully I did Nat justice. criticism, likes & reblogs r always appreciated!

★—★—★—★—★—★—★—★—★—★—★

You and Natasha were finally able to act like a couple, going on little dates without worrying about world threatening aliens or villains. But Fury just had to ruin it by calling and assigning you two on a mission since you were in the area. It was a simple mission, just get the intel from a company that SHIELD suspected to be working with HYDRA. The only hard part was it was a private art exhibit and you didn't have tickets. So that leads you two to stay in your parked car in the parking lot, trying to think of a way to get in.

"This is literally impossible! How the hell do they think we'll get in there without tickets?" You said with a groan, leaning back into the driver's seat dramatically. Natasha just chuckled at how dramatic you were being.

"Tasha, baby, as much as I love hearing your laugh that gives me butterflies every single time and make me feel like a lovesick teenager — we need a solution." You frowned, trying to show how serious you were. However, instead of helping you think of a solution, she just gave you an amused smile.

"I'm sure we can think of a way to get in, my love. Calm down." You girlfriend's reassuring tone made you pout, which consequently made her laugh.

"Maybe we can break one of the windows?" You suggested, eyeing the windows on the left side of building.

"That would cause a huge scene, детка." Natasha replied in 'in a matter of fact' tone.

"Threaten one of the guests to give us their invitations?" You tried again, seeing a young couple walk past your car towards the entrance.

"Nope."

"Threaten the guard to let us in?"

"Not gonna happen."

"I'll seduce one of the guests so they'll bring me as a plus one?"

Your girlfriend's glare was enough to answer your question.

"Okay, no, uhhh... I'll seduce the guard so he can let us in?"

"Seriously, babe?" You had to stifle a chuckle at how natasha was glaring at you.

"Then what? oh, I know! We can kill the guard!"

"Y/n. You are not seducing nor killing anyone, okay?" Natasha's tone was enough to shut you up, especially cause she called you y/n instead of all the gushing endearments she normally uses.

"Okay, I'll let you do the thinking, I guess..." You sighed, and closed your eyes, letting her think of a better solution.

You were supposed to give up and just wait for her idea when you saw one of the middle-aged guard's nameplate.

On the nameplate was his last name, Santos. Santos was a Filipino last name. Then it hit you, you can get in.

"Baby. I know how we'll get in." You said with a mischievous grin. Natasha looked at you in confusion and amusement. You looked so confident with your idea that she couldn't stop a small amused smile to show on her face.

"What is it, малыш?" She asked with a raised brow, not sure if she should take you seriously or if it's one of your unserious plans again.

"The guard. He's Filipino." You were already forming the conversation in your head while Nat just stares at you in pure confusion.

"And? I don't see how that will get us in, love." Instead of answering her, you get out of the car and opened her door for her. She stepped out in confusion, interwinding your fingers with her.

You approached the Filipino guard with a polite smile. He immediately held his hand out to ask for your invitation.

"Goodday, ma'am. Welcome to the exhibit. May I see your invitation, please?" The man looked like he was in his mid 50s. His Filipino accent wasn't too obvious, but it was there. It was enough for your smile to widen slightly, knowing your assumption was correct.

"Goodday rin boss! Filipino ka po?" You asked in a calm tone, earning a subtle confused look from natasha.

(Goodday to you too, boss! Are you a Filipino?)

"Ay oo! Filipino ka rin? Hindi halata ah? Mukha kang kano!" The man said with a smile, he reminded you of your father back in the Philippines.

(Oh yes! Are you a Filipino too? It isn't obvious, you look like an american!)

"Ay hindi po, half lang po. Fil-Am po ako, sa Pinas po ako lumaki." You replied with a chuckle. He seemed interested and kind enough to make your plan successful.

(No, I'm only half. I'm a Fil-am, but I grew up in the Philippines.)

"Ano pong pangalan niyo, boss?" You asked once again, getting ready to start the first step in your little plan.

(What's your name, boss?)

"Danilo, Danilo Santos." He confidently said, his filipino accent very evident now.

"Pwede po ba kaming pumasok? Naiwan kasi ng bebe ko yung invitation, birthday pa naman po niya ngayon." You let out a small sad smile, trying to win over the heart of the guard.

Danilo thought about it for a minute, looking at you with hesitant yet sympathetic eyes.

"O, siya, sige. Pumasok na kayo, wag nalang kayong maingay sa iba ah? Anong pangalan niyo ulit?" The guard said with a kind smile, making you instantly feel guilty for lying. (Alright, fine. Come inside, just don't tell others, okay? What're your names again?)

"Salamat po! Y/f/n po, siya naman po si Natalie. 'Di po siya marunong magtagalog, eh." (Thank you! I'm Y/f/n, she's Natalie. She can't speak tagalog.)

"Happy birthday, Natalie. Enjoy your day, ah!" Mr. Danilo smiled at Natasha who thanked him and gave a polite smile. He then suddenly leaned in to whisper into your ear.

"Ganda ng nobya mo, galing mong pumili." He gave you two thumbs up and a fatherly grin. (Your girlfriend's pretty, you're good at picking.)

"Sobra po, mahal po ata ako ni Kupido," You joked, causing him to chuckle. Natasha just looks at you confused but had a small adoring smile on her face. "Salamat po ulit, boss." You waved politely, before holding Natasha's waist to lead both of you inside. (Very, I think Cupid loves me. Thank you, again, boss.)

Once you were both inside, she stopped walking, causing you to stop aswell. You looked at her in concern, pulling her closer to your body.

"What's wrong, Tash?" She faced you with a small impressed smile.

"That was honestly impressive. But why'd you call him boss? And what the hell is a bebe?" Her obvious confusion made you chuckle.

"Oh boss? It's sorta like a Filipino culture. We use it as a sign of respect, like when you call someone ma'am or sir. It also helps when you want to get stuff done fast. It's hard to explain." You shrugged and she just nodded. She interwinded your fingers together, resuming your walk into the halls of the building.

"And bebe is?"

"Bebe is your significant other. It means, baby. Mostly teenagers use it to refer to their lovers," You snorted, laughing at your own explanation. "Like, 'bebe kita', which means, 'you're my baby'. But please never call me that, it reminds me of my highschool boyfriend, ew." You grimaced at the memory, making your girlfriend chuckle.

"What filipino endearment should I call you, then?" She asked in a soft tone, interested in the Filipino culture.

"Mahal." You smiled, squeezing her hand affectionately.

"I'm assuming that means Love?" You nodded and leaned down.

"Tinatangi kita, aking Natalia." You whispered, and placed a soft kiss on her temple. The way you said her name in a Filipino accent made her heart flutter. You smiled when you saw the almost unnoticeable pink tint on her cheeks. (I love you, my Natalia.)

"I love you, more."

★—★—★—★—★—★—★—★—★—★—★

note : the translations aren't 100% accurate since some filipino words doesn't have exact translations soooo yeah. i'm half filipino so i'm kinda confident with the tagalog lmfao. tysm for reading !

— sincerely, ely. ★

[alexjcrowley]

Yesterday night I felt sick with my stomach and stayed awake all night making audio recordings to my best friend about watching Quantum of Solace for the first time (I am still finishing it) and then I started randomly talking about 00q and accidentally opened up the Pandora Box of my memories but I instantly remembered everything I ever knew about 00q like when it got adopted by the BBC Sherlock fandom or the Paddington is the new Quartermaster stuff or when everybody was obsessed with the fucking Téméraire and it was EVERYWHERE and everybody made the joke "It's a ship!!!" and the age difference discourse between James and Q and Q being called Quentin and Mycroft and Sherlock being Q older brothers and disapproving of his relationship with James Bond and the fucking tea mugs and so many cats and everybody talking about Q's jumpers and making up OC minions for him and every fanfiction in which James retires to be with Q because he was the only one he ever loved aside from Vesper and Q feeling insecure because of her and all then Madeleine Sawnn came along and everybody was distraught even though the flirting was there in Spectre and we were all distraught because we could have had it all and so many fix it fics so many fics about James cosntantly loosing his gadgets and how hard it was for Q to watch him seduce other people and everybody was saying they were grumpy x sunshine/black cat x Golden retriver coded BUT THEY WERE NOT ACTUALLY in my humble opinion but they were easily flustered x flirting menace and Q had such salty one-liners and everybody believed he was a posh boy and do you remember when years later you had the same museum scene with Hannibal it was clearly a parallel and then there was No Time To Die and Q was officially queer oh my God oh my fucking God it was CANON he TOTALLY CANONICALLY MUST HAVE HAD A CRUSH ON BOND and we saw THE CATS and WHO WAS Q WAITING FOR?????? James must have been jealous but then the movie was what it was and a lot of people hated it and all of the fix it fics in which Bond said his last words to Q because it was always Q it will always be Q and also everybody making up names for him names were such a huge deal Q revealing his name to James in his last moments grieving fics in which James died but you also had silly ones and spicy ones uhhh a lot of those because sometimes you just need to ignore canon and see them happy and maybe both retiring or maybe they kept working flirting over the comms and annoying everyone at MI6 which wasn't exactly Avengers "Everybody Lives in The Tower" au but it was close they weren't a found family per se but some of them were very close there used to be edits on youtube yeah before TikTok came along youtube edits were A ThingTM with all those retrica-looking filters and pop songs or sad love songs and fake trailers who remembers those or like scenes edited to look like they were from a romcom and comments on the scenes written in small usually white text that were meant to reflect the character inner thoughts like "That's hot" or "He's so annoying I need to kiss him" or "BITCH" and fics in which Q was kidnapped and James went berserk and a few years ago Knives Out came out and we tried to to have Bond and Benoit Blanc related do you also remember that?