#this ain’t ordinary life

[rpfisfine]

Is everyone online guys im abt to post another idat & aleksa clip that everyone will definitely 100% watch because they love me

[ilovefredjones]

there seems to be an unused ration of… water? yes.

martin crimp, cyrano de bergerac / raoul walsh, captain horatio hornblower

[dixons-sunshine]

Needs To Be Perfect | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Thank you @lazyneonrabbitt for the idea!

“M’tellin’ ya, Dog, it has to be perfect. I can’t screw it up. She ain’t gon’say yes if it ain’t a hundred percent perfect.”

You stopped your descend down the stairs, hiding your body behind the wall as you heard your partner’s voice fill the air. You had temporarily left just to go grab something from your room, and it appeared to you that Daryl had decided to have a heart-to-heart with his furry companion in your absence. And apparently, the aforementioned heart-to-heart included something he was planning for you. Saying that your interest was peaked would be an understatement.

You could hear Dog let out a small bark, as if trying to communicate with his owner. “Yeah, s’what m’thinkin’. She’s perfect, so she deserves the damn best proposal ever. Ain’t gon’ give her no damn sloppy one.”

You could feel your heart stop, yet speed up at the same time. Proposal? Daryl was planning on proposing? How long had he been wanting to do that? And why did he ever believe you’d say no? He could propose to you with one of his bike’s wheel nuts in a sewer and you’d say yes with zero hesitation. That’s how much you loved your partner.

“M’thinkin’a takin’ her out on my bike to that lake we found way back when. S’one’a her favourite spots. Maybe I can set up a picnic or somethin’.” Daryl stopped and let out a deep sigh. “Nah, that’s too cliche. She ain't any ordinary person. She deserves better than that. Bein’ proposed to while on a picnic... S’been done way too many times already.”

You smiled to yourself as your grip on the book—the thing you had left to go grab from your room—tightened. Your heart was attempting to pound out of your ribcage. So you hadn’t misheard him. Your partner and love of your whole life was planning on making it official. He was planning on putting a ring on your finger. He wanted you to be his wife. You felt like crying from happiness, but you knew that if you did, Daryl would be alerted to your knowledge of his plans. No, you wouldn’t spoil this for him by letting him know that you knew.

“What ‘bout takin’ her huntin’ and proposin’ to her like that?” As if disliking the idea, Dog let out a growl. “Well, what do ya suggest I do, then?!” Daryl exclaimed in frustration, before stopping and letting out another sigh. “What have I come to? Talkin’ to a dog ‘bout things it ain’t never gon’ be able to help me with. M’slippin’ badly,” Daryl mumbled to himself. “I jus’... M’terrified, Dog. I dun’ wanna screw it up. I dun’ know what I’ll do if she says no.”

Your heart broke at the sound of the evident fear in the archer’s voice. You knew that this fear stemmed from years of mistreatment. Daryl didn’t believe that he deserved you, and he was scared of the day you’d walk out on him—a day that would never come. So, you vowed to yourself you’d ensure that he wouldn’t doubt himself. You’d subtly ensure him that whatever he decided to do as his proposal, you’d say yes regardless. He deserved to have that clarity.

You stomped your foot on the stair once, loud enough so that Daryl could hear and think that you were just bounding down the stairs. You walked down the remaining few steps and walked into the living room, book in hand. Daryl looked up at you with raised eyebrows and widened eyes, clearly being afraid of being caught planning something big. You knew, of course, but you wouldn’t tell him about your knowledge of his plans.

“Sorry it took forever to come back,” you apologized, raising the book for him to see. “This took me a while to find. Did I miss anything?”

Daryl let out a small sigh of relief, and you had to refrain from chuckling. “Nah, nothin’ important. Jus’ havin’ a lil’ chat with Dog,” he told you, falling back on the couch and patting his bare chest as a way to tell you he expected more cuddles—cuddles that had been interrupted earlier due to your need to find the book.

You smiled and climbed onto the couch, settling snuggly against him and opening the book. “He say anything interesting?”

Daryl snorted as his eyes drifted to the animal that rested on the floor near the couch. “Nah.” He wrapped his arms around you and placed a tender kiss to the top of your head. “Ya gon’ read to me now or not?”

“In a minute.” You looked at Daryl and gave him a small smile. You admired his features, from the dip of his nose to the curve of his lips, his beautiful ocean coloured eyes, everything. Everything about this man was beautiful to you. “You’re stunning, Daryl.” Daryl scoffed and shook his head, but you cut him off before he could say anything. “It’s true. Don’t even try to fight me on this. You’re stunning. You’re kind, you’re smart, you’re brave, and you’re the most selfless person I’ve ever met. I’m so lucky I get to tell everyone that you’re the love of my life. I’m so lucky that I get to spend my life with you, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Daryl hesitated for a moment, before sending you a small smile. “Yeah? Ya dun’ mind spendin’ yer life with me?”

You shook your head. “Not at all.” You leaned down and pressed a soft, tender kiss to his lips before pulling back. “I love you, Daryl Dixon.”

“And I love ya. So fuckin’ much.”

And with that, some of Daryl’s worries got soothed. He was still freaking out over what he would do for a proposal, but he felt a little better knowing that you didn’t intend on leaving him anytime soon. You were the light of Daryl's existence.

And he planned on keeping you in his life for the rest of his days.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[dorkszn]

ORDINARY LIFE + logan howlett

“Heaven in her mouth, got a hell of a tongue. I can feel her teeth when I drive on a bump. Fingers lettin' go of the wheel when I cum. Whe-wheel when I cum, whe-wheel when I cum. David Carradine, I'ma die when I cum (die when I cum). She just givin' head, she don't know what I've done.”

male reader, drunk reader but logan is drunk too, drunk driving, oral sex, spanking, the claws come out, cum eating

His thick, metal belt buckle clacks against the center console as you drive over the slightly bumpy, winter roads. His left hand gripping the steering wheel while the other sat in your hair, gently holding a fistful of it. His breaths leave in heavy pants and grunts.

Your mouth full of him as you gag and choke around his cock. His pre and your drunken drool dribbling down his length and your chin, glistening along the veins pulsing on his dick.

“Fucking— god,” Logan groans as your tongue sloppily swirls around his fat, leaking tip. Who knew letting some drunk himbo from the bar in his truck would lead to this? You leaned over the center console, your ass slightly perked up in the air, Logan’s dick in your mouth.

The truck jumps as Logan drives over a bump, causing your teeth to graze his slobbered girth. Another low, guttural moan fell from his lips at the feeling. His hand runs down from your hair and over your spine until he reaches the curve of your ass.

Your back arches a bit more as his hand touches it, feeling his palm hit you through your jeans—the motion almost a praise for the accidental graze. Logan drunkenly smirks slightly as he glances over and sees the way your arch deepened. “Slut,” he comments lowly.

You pull your head up, releasing him from your lips with a sinful pop. “Says you,” you retort, your words slightly slurred. Your lips glimmer in his essence. He glances down at you, his smirk faltering slightly.

“The hell is that supposed to mean— oh shit.” His words fall into a pornographic noise as you drag your tongue over his slit and lewdly suck on his tip. The truck swerves before Logan quickly fixes the wheel, his knuckles turning white as he tightens his hold on it.

“Dognt cheel me, jhackcass,” “Don’t kill me, Jackass” is what you meant to say. But kinda hard to talk when your mouth is stuffed with cock, ain’t it?

“Oh shut up,” Logan mumbles, his hand coming down on your ass again. You let out a choked whine around him, the vibrations of your throat shooting straight to Logan, his hand gently squeezing your ass in response.

You bring your hand up, wrapping it around Logan’s base, and begin pumping him there. Your mouth shifts to kiss and suck at the higher inches of his dick, completely lost in the motion as your intoxicated mind moves on autopilot.

The truck swerves again slightly as Logan’s eyes roll and his teeth press together. His other hand subconsciously grips your belt to stabilize as he straightens the wheel. “Logan, careful,” you grumble at him with a slight whine. “You’re gonna kill me before you even cum.”

“We’ll be fine,” Logan huffs out once he finds his ground again. “Or, well, I’ll be fine.” He adds. You roll your eyes at his words before taking him into your mouth again. It feels like only minutes before the truck is screeching to an abrupt halt.

Logan’s hand tightens around the wheel while the other grabs the plump of your ass through your jeans. His fingers digging into you. His head was slightly thrown back against the seat and his eyes squeezed shut. “Oh fucking Christ—“ his moans fill the truck as his cock pulses on your tongue and he cums down your throat. A sudden, sharp snkit followed his lewd noises.

You can’t see the cause of the noise as you try to focus on breathing and swallowing every white spurt he releases. Though some of it leaks out your messy lips anyway. When his fingers finally let go of your ass a little bit, you slowly pick your head up. Then you catch the cause of the sound.

Three metal claws between his knuckles that glisten in the moonlight shine through the windshield. A smirk covering your wet lips. “That good, huh?” You ask as you look at him. One of his sharp brown eyes opens as he looks at you. Smirking, eyes glassy, lips kiss-swollen, and chin slick.

Logan lets his claws graze over your waist as he pulls his hand back, sending an excited shiver up your spine. His mutation retracts back into his skin as he grabs your chin, swiping up some of his spilled seed. “Shut up and swallow,” he mumbles. He pushes his thumb into your mouth, letting you lick the rest of it off.

Afterward, you sigh softly and settle back into your seat, wiping your skin clean. You watch as Logan puts himself back in his boxers. “You got anything to eat?” You ask him.

“Why, so your breath can smell shittier than it already does?” Logan questions snarkily even though he knows he’d make out with you again a hundred times over.

You scoff, watching as he zips and buttons his jeans again. “No, jackass and your cum taste like the goddamn Indian Ocean,” you shoot back at the man. Logan shoots you a small glare before he presses down on the gas pedal again.

Logan just grumbles under his breath a bit before answering, his eyes on the dark road ahead. He reaches over and pops open the glove compartment and hands you a bag of something. You take it from him with a grin.

“Thanks, Lo,” you hum as you open the bag and begin eating whatever he gave you.

“Yeah, just don’t throw up in my truck,” he says back, giving you a small side eye as he watches you practically stuff your face.

“Heard.” You answer playfully with a stupid grin as you pop more of it past your lips.

[koushuwu]

» 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢’𝐦 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 (𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱) *:･ﾟ✧

» 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: hinata shoyo x reader | 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4,2k | hq masterlist

» 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: hinata shoyo both lives and loves freely, and he ain’t ashamed. neither is he opposed to sharing some of that loving with a fan, when said fan so clearly finds him cute.

» 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬): afab!reader, multiple writing styles, alcohol consumption, smut, one night stand, feet (a little bit), slight body worship, nipple play, spit, fingering, consensual sex, no editing we die like neji. lmk if i missed something.

» 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @tyga-lily (i hope that it's okay to tag you in this, since shoyo is your mans.)

MSBY!shoyo who has always had a very lively personality, having more than once been referred to as a “sunshine boy”. by many a different person, mind you. so of course it’s only natural that he’d be one to very much enjoy the party scene with his fellow black jackals.

MSBY!shoyo who finds himself the life of the party, with his drawing personality, his carefree demeanor, his quick radiant smiles and his fiery passion. with bokuto by his side especially, it was hard to believe anyone could not enjoy themselves. that is, of course, unless they were sakusa, who’d generally rather be home than on a night out, no matter the company. especially at atsumu’s favorite club of all places.

MSBY!shoyo who’s sending the bartender a bright smile, when he sat a drink down in front of him. “from the young lady over there.”

MSBY!shoyo who had had this happen before, but the bubbling joy never seized to erupt every single time, and he couldn’t help turning that bright contagious smile towards you across the club. his smile widening when you look away, bashful, before meeting his gaze with a fire that matched his own passion to a t.

MSBY!shoyo who got pulled back to the present by bokuto’s chiding “oh, she’s cute.” the electrifying moment crackling but never breaking, as shoyo turned to his friend and teammate with a grin as big as bokuto’s spread across his face. bokuto’s grin rivaling that of shoyo’s in contagiousness. again; unless you’re sakusa, who’d still rather be home, watching on in distaste.

MSBY!shoyo who glanced down at the cocktail in front of him, then looking back up at you. only now you were nowhere to be seen. he scanned the crowd for a glimpse of you, but between the many partygoers, he didn’t stand a chance, instead taking a sip of the vibrant cocktail in front of him. it was good. really good. and somehow that made him yearn for you to return to his line of sight.

MSBY!shoyo who found you later on the dancefloor. the bass was thumping and as he moved towards his table, and there you were. right in front of him, dancing with your friend. or he thought it was your friend. stopping in his track, he watched you spin around. and that’s when your eyes met his. for one split second, you seemed surprised to see him, but then you smiled.

MSBY!shoyo who feels entranced by the smile you sent him. by the glimmer in your eye and by the energy that surrounded you like an aura. who couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder at the draw you exuded toward him. the draw, that pulled him in, like other people had told him over the years he did to them.

MSBY!shoyo whose eyes followed your movements as you danced. who followed the move of your hands as one found his, and pulled him close. “hinata shoyo, right?”

MSBY!shoyo who knew you were a fan, the moment you said his name, but didn’t even care when you looked at him like that. who’d been with a fan on more than one occasion. it was all the same to him. a nights fun was a nights fun, no matter with whom, to him. but even so, he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t something magnetic about you. something a little out of the ordinary, compared to the rest. but no one asked, so he didn’t tell. at least, not yet.

MSBY!shoyo who couldn’t help but smile even bigger as you pulled him closer. as he pulled you closer in turn, and as you moved with him. as he moved with you.

MSBY!shoyo who despite lacking in some aspects as a kid found his rhythm fast. since going pro and since joining the black jackals. and especially since meeting atsumu and bokuto again, had learned that he, as atsumu phrased it, had moves. he knew how to move and he knew how to guide you as he did.

MSBY!shoyo who’d become so accustomed to the move of his own body on the dancefloor that he’d expected himself not to get flustered when your hand trailed over his skin. but he did. his heart may have stuttered and his movements faltered for a single moment in time. but then the next beat of the music boomed from the speakers and he’d already found his footing once more. 

MSBY!shoyo who knew it was coming, but still felt heat clouding his features when your fingers traced the nape of his neck, testing the waters as you slit them further up, burying your fingers in his beautiful red hair. whose eyes stayed locked on yours the entire time as you moved together.

MSBY!shoyo whose eyes fluttered shut when you pushed up to your toes, lips gracing his softly. he felt it in every fiber. every single cell of his being when you kissed him. when he kissed you back. who felt the entire world fall away as he let himself get lost in the moment. in the closeness and in the taste of your lips. who chased after your lips when you pulled back, that contagious smile still lingering. who opened his eyes to watch you just as you opened your mouth to speak. “i got you my favorite,” you told him. “i wanted to see what it’d taste like on your tongue.” he smiled at that and asked “and? was it to your liking?” your laugh sounded above the music, like a calling to him that he’d never known he longed for. “hmm. hard to tell.” you smiled, pulling him back in by the collar. “might need to have another taste, just to be sure.”

MSBY!shoyo who brought you with him home to his hotel that night, knowing that the tabloids would blow it up, given the chance, but he didn’t mind. shoyo lived his life and he wasn’t ashamed. not one bit and he never would be. he lived and he loved. and he did it freely. especially with someone as cute as you. so he took you to his back home to his hotel.

MSBY!shoyo who spent the entire ride back lively and brightly. not once allowing the mood to turn awkward. not once letting a single uncomfortable silence settle. not that he particularly tried to fill the silence. it was just natural to him. second nature and hadn’t it been what gravitated you towards him? who was delighted to find, that you filled up half of the space and the silence yourself, perfectly bouncing off his energy with your own. it was stunning really, and shoyo found himself drawn to you, just as well as you had been him.

MSBY!shoyo who could still taste you pleasantly lingering on the tip of his tongue as you stepped into the elevator by his side, grateful to have found the streets empty outside his hotel. who let his fingers trace the back of your hands, a lopsided smile pulling at his lips as you turned your hand and interlocked your fingers with his.

MSBY!shoyo who led the way out of the elevator. down the hall. briefly stopping before the door to his room before letting the both of you inside. the room that he thankfully had to himself. could you imagine? sharing a room with sakusa would have given the poor guy a heart attack if he’d known what was about to go down in that very room. truthfully, it probably would anyway, even if it wasn’t his room. but alas. the room was hinata’s alone and he was not about to pass that opportunity by.

MSBY!shoyo who was eager in many a setting, but for once didn’t feel any rush. no better way to get with someone, than allowing the both of you to enjoy the experience. allowing you to indulge. to have fun and take your time. that was his philosophy at least, when it came to sex. especially with one night stands. to kick things back and just enjoy. no rush. no hurry. so he led you inside, guiding you to the bed and gently setting you on the edge and dropped to his knees. not that he was about to propose, but those heels looked awfully painful.

MSBY!shoyo who lifted one of your feet from the floor and undid the strap, sliding it off. and then the other, fingers gliding over your skin in relaxed confidence. something he’d learned over the years that now came to him like second nature. 

MSBY!shoyo who couldn’t read your mind, but definitely noticed the way you admired him on the floor in front of you. who couldn’t read the thoughts on him, that went through your head. he was cute. he had energy. he had stamina. he was fun. he was passionate. he was eager. he had this air around him. confidence. that’s what you saw when you looked at him. and it was sexy. painstakingly so. all these things, something that shoyo didn’t know. but he saw the glimmer in your eye, and who was he to let you wait?

MSBY!shoyo who lifted your bare foot higher in the air, and planted a kiss at your ankle, relishing in the little visible shudder coursing through you. cute. he did it again. and again. each kiss edging just a little further up, tasting the skin of your calf.

“hina—“

“shoyo,” he said. “call me shoyo.” he looked up at you from the floor. a playful glimmer in his eye and a joyful smile at his lips.

“shoyo,” you repeated in agreement. tasting his name as if you hadn’t already put the name in your mouth numerous times before. but never like this though. never with him. always, always, always in conversation with friends. family. fans. but this? this was different.

MSBY!shoyo who relished in the sound of his name spilling from you lips. he smiled. chuckled. he looked up at you, anticipation reflected in your eyes as they followed his every move. every single one of his movements as he moved up further, kissing the side of your knee before licking a stripe up your inner thigh. the fact that you were wearing a dress, no tights, was like a gift bestowed on him as he tasted your skin. your hand shoved into his soft fiery locks as your breathing hitched when he blew his warm breath across the saliva on your leg.

MSBY!shoyo who, despite being eager and energetic, took the time stop and make sure you actually wanted this. who asked you more than once if you were sure. if you were okay with anything he did. because you may have wanted him when you left the club with him, but that didn’t mean you still did. shoyo was a free spirit and a respectful one at that. so he asked. and once he’d got you splayed out on his hotel bed, clothes discarded on the floor, he asked you again. but this time, he asked you something different.

“What do you want me to do?” his breath against your skin sent a shiver through your body as goosebumps rose across your flesh. this time not a ‘are you sure?’, ‘do you still want this?’ or a ‘are you feeling okay?’ but simply a request for you to indulge him. to play with him.

“touch me,” you told him, the alcohol in your system stripping you of any embarrassment sober you might’ve felt by speaking your mind like this. but tipsy you? tipsy you wanted his hands on your body and tipsy you weren’t afraid to say so.

“where?” he asked. “if we’re gonna do this, we might as well have a good time, yeah?” it was more of a statement than a question really, because it was simple. of course you might. and that was the thing shoyo really wanted most. to ensure that the both of you were having the best time that you could on this one night together. you were just about to reply when a mischievous glimmer played in his eyes. “here?” he asked, bringing his hands up to cup your tits. you nodded when he pinched one nipple between his fingers. that made his lips split in a big, beautiful, blinding grin. then he dipped and took your other nipple between his lips and suckled.

there was a breathy sound escaping your lips when his teeth graced the sensitive nub, making your back arch off the bed. he did it again, rolling your other nipple between his fingers at the same time.

“shoyo–” you whined, the last note drawing out as his tongue flicked around your nipple. he looked up at you and finally released you, tongue sticking out and a little bit of spit trickling onto your exposed skin. the glimmer in his eyes was captivating. entrancing. the smile on his face was dazzling. drawing. he was looking at you, as if you were quite literally the only woman in the world, and even if he might not be yours to keep, it never felt forced. maybe because to him, at that moment, you were in fact very much the only woman that mattered, and he absolutely made sure that you felt it.

“where?” he asked you again, this time pausing to let you reply. to let you tell him what and where you wanted him to touch. and so you did. you took his hand in yours and guided it down. down. down. down. until his fingers rested against your sex.

“here,” you said and he grinned back at you. drawing indeed.

“oh? this pretty little lady?” he asked, letting his fingers slide between your folds, feeling the slick against them. “happy to oblige,” he said. you sucked in a breath as his digits danced over your clit. he was good. really good. the playful melody of his fingers was lighthearted. fun. good. perfect. something so different to anything you’d ever tried with any one night stand before, and for a moment you couldn’t believe your luck, that he’d taken you home. you. out of all the people he could have pulled from the bar, he’d picked you. a fan of his no less. the next moment you remembered that you had indeed been pretty straightforward with you advantages from the very start. but who could blame you really? the guy was cute as hell. little did you know that shoyo really hadn’t planned on taking anyone home at all. he never did when these sort of things happened. but your straightforward approach had been exactly what captivated him. you’d let him have a glance, but you hadn’t pushed. not until he was right there in front of you again. and at that point, he’d already been looking for you for hours. the trap already snapped closed, even if you’d never truly expected it to play out like that. but it did.

the temperature rose like a crescendo between the two of you. a moan fell from your lips and shoyo smiled. his eyes locked onto your and held your gaze in place. there was something about the way he looked at you right then, that made it feel impossible for you to look away. so you didn’t.

“give me your hand,” he prompted, reaching out. you placed your hand in his, gaze still interlocked with his. fingers slid gingerly over your skin as he let them glide from your hand, up to your wrist, circling it softly. drawing your hand towards him, he opened his mouth, tongue sticking out. his thumb grazed your palm, then pressed lightly. you straightened your fingers at his silent command. you couldn’t help but feel drawn in by him as he put your fingers to his mouth, tongue sliding in between them. around them. pulling them in. he was mesmerizing. even more so than you’d ever imagined, watching him play or participate in interviews. like he was a completely different league.

as much as you probably could have tried to keep your voice back, you didn’t. you mewled. you keened. and he hadn’t even entered you yet. he hadn’t entered you yet. he should– he bit down gently on your knuckles, and you whined as you felt yourself tightening around nothing. he should–

“shoyo–” you whined. again. but you didn’t care. because you were here and he was here and you were together and that’s what mattered. “inside, too. please,” you pleaded. and he smiled, removing your fingers from his mouth.

“okay,” he agreed. he didn’t press inside. instead he shifted in the bed, placing himself on his knees between your legs. and that’s when your eyes grew wide, because with your hand pressed to the mattress, his fingers caressed your skin. from your wrist, down the inside of your forearm, making you shudder. then, down the side of your ribs, over your hip and then to your thigh. he pushed it down. out. and then he did something you hadn’t expected him to. gaze still trained on yours, he let a dribble of spit fall from his lips. the cold, wet sensation sent a pleasurable ripple through your body. from your very core and through every little inch, ebbing out as it reached your fingertips. goosebumps broke out across your skin, amplified only by the way he looked at you. and looked at you. you looked back. captivated. as if you couldn’t truly look away. lacing his fingers between yours on one hand, the other found your pussy again, tracing through the slick of his own spit and your arousal.

“last chance to back out,” he said when one finger pressed against your entrance. it was soft. imødekommende. understanding. but you just shook your head. you wanted him, and he clearly wanted you.

“not gonna happen,” you told him, tone equally soft. a little teasing. he grinned. he did that a lot, you noted. and then he pressed inside.

shoyo was as giver. he enjoyed the playful thrill of pleasuring his partner. of giving, and giving, and giving. making his partner feel good. happy. it was a feeling like no other. and that was exactly the feeling he reveled in, that very moment, as he worked you open. as he stretched your pussy, first making room for one more finger, and then as he slowly thrust them into your heat, again and again.

your own grip tightened in his, moan after whine after mewl after whimper spilling into the scorching air around you, mixing in with his labored breathing, in a wondrous, beautiful symphony. rising and falling in perfect harmony, the filthy squelches of his fingers picking up pace, bullying into you, making for the steady bass of the sweet orchestration.

somehow, shoyo knew exactly how to angle his fingers to hit just that perfect spot inside. to go just deep enough. honestly that should not have been legal. and yet somehow he managed it.

the hold around your hand loosened, but only long enough for shoyo to nestle the palm of his own hand against the back of yours, digits once again slipping between yours, and squeezed it lightly. it tingled. you didn’t know why, but it did. every little bit of skin that he touched was buzzing, as if electric. charged. charged like the feeling in the pit of your stomach; rising expectantly. reaching. stretching towards the peak of crescendo, each tone strumming higher and higher in pitch. shoyo curled his fingers, thumb caressing your hand as he continued to pump into you. you hadn’t expected him to make you cum, honestly. not because you thought he’d be bad in bed, but first times and one night stands often left a lot to be desired for you, because you simply didn’t know each others bodies well enough. so you hadn’t expected him to manage it. at the very least not this fast. but you felt the rise, rapidly approaching the climax you hadn’t been prepared for. but when he brushed deep inside you once more, you welcomed it, as it washed over you in a delicious flow of heat. it wasn’t fireworks going off inside. it wasn’t an earth shattering crash of pleasure snapping in your core. it was warm, comforting pleasure rolling through you like the waves lapping at the shore on a quiet summer night, and it was perfect. shoyo smiled at the sound of his name, softly sliding off your tongue like a contented sigh. he held you until the waves of pleasure ebbed out, thinning to a pleasant hum.

“good?” he asked you when he sensed you were back. that you’d come down from your high.

“good,” you confirmed, voice soft and flashed him a lazy grin of your own.

“good,” he said, lifting your hand to his lips. they were soft. softer than any guy’s lips you’d ever felt, as he kissed the palm of your hand. then he kissed it again. “i’m glad,” he said, breath hot as it spread against your wrist before his lips pressed against it. your skin tingled. the sensation sending new heat surging down your spine. spreading and once more made you long for his touch. for more. for him. shoyo seemed to sense the charged atmosphere. the way you looked at him, because he chuckled as he kissed your wrist once more.

“shoyo,” you said, and he looked at you, still standing tall between your thighs.

“hm?”

“instead of my wrist, maybe you could kiss me instead. or better yet, you could fuck–” your words cut off when he pressed leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. he guided your hand into his hair as he kissed you, just as you’d asked. his warm cock bumping against your abdomen as he adjusted over you. the kiss was short and he pulled back, nipping at your lower lip as he did. you chased his lips, but he just grinned at your efforts.

“that’s just want i wanted to hear,” he told you and then kissed you again. and again. and again and again and again. and even through kisses, it didn’t take long before shoyo had successfully slid the rubber in place, tip now excitedly slipping through the wetness of your cunt. “how do you want it?” he asked you, and there was another shiver rippling through you. you never thought you’d get excited by talking in bed, but the the way shoyo did it was– well it was hot. incredibly so. something about the way he considered you, even for a one time fling. the sheer confidence of his bright and attentive aura. it gave you the confidence as well, to be free and to ask of him exactly what you wanted.

“from behind,” you said. “i like it from behind.”

“alright, princess. turn around,” he told you. it wasn’t a command. a simple instruction that you found yourself eager to follow. and so you did, feeling his gaze on you as you did. he was admiring you. every single inch of skin. every curve, crevice and crease as you turned. you were beautiful in every sense of the word to him, honestly. he let you settle into the position that was the most comfortable for you, and didn’t touch you before then. as you rested against the bed, ass raised in silent invitation, he finally did touch you. one single finger traced the curve of your spine, from between your shoulders and all the way down to your tailbone. featherlight and burning hot at the same time. he drew circles across your skin before finally resting his palm against your hip. with the other, he lined himself up with your entrance, and then stopped.

“shoyo. fuck me, please.” you told him, before he had the time to ask if you were sure. if you were ready. if you were comfortable, or anything else along those lines. you’d have to admit that it was insanely hot that he did so, but right now– right now you wanted nothing more than for him to get inside you, and you were not going to waste any more time than absolutely necessary before you got what you wanted. shoyo clearly got the memo, because his hold tightened on your hip and his cock pressed against your cunt, stretching as it pushed inside. slowly. slowly. ever so slowly. but oh so absolutely delicious and despite your impatience to have him sheathed inside of you, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

MSBY!shoyo who never had any second thoughts about having sex with a fan. he lived and he loved freely, and he wasn’t going to let anyone stop him from doing just that, for as long as he was single. and so he chose to love you, that night. to give you everything you wanted. to give you all of him that you wanted.

MSBY!shoyo who’d done this kind of thing more than once. and who’d had a night partner slip him their number before they left more than once as well. but this time. maybe. just maybe, he’d keep it. this time. maybe. just maybe, a one night stand could be allowed to turn into a two nights stand. or maybe. just maybe–

*:･ﾟ✧ thank you for reading ♡

[cobaltperun]

Genius (3) - Own It

Cairo Sweet x female (G!P) Reader

Summary: It was such a cliché, a reunion she didn’t expect to ever happen, let alone six years after she last saw you. It was supposed to mean nothing, a bit of nostalgia, maybe a brief catching up while waiting for class, it was supposed to be a small wave of nostalgia, not a tsunami that disrupted her entire life. You were her opposite, and as hard as she tried she couldn’t resist your pull.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous Part / Next Part

Word count: 4k

-I will never run from it when I’m in the moment, I’m gonna own it own it ain’t afraid to own it-

Winnie chose to spend the night at Cairo’s place, it was big, Cairo was often lonely, she liked spending time with Cairo, it was a win-win situation. Besides, the beds were really comfortable. How long ago has she fallen in love with the girl? With her mysterious aura, a hard to approach exterior with a surprisingly softer side, with the acceptance of others she didn’t expect from someone born in Cairo’s circumstances. And it didn’t hurt that Cairo was beautiful, but none of that mattered. Cairo just didn’t see her that way.

Cairo never really saw anyone that way, she was stuck in her books and writing, and Winnie never realized what it was that Cairo wanted. She thought Cairo wanted more books, more of what she already loved. But then you said you’d take Cairo out of the village and Winnie swore she saw something she never saw in Cairo’s eyes. You and Cairo knew each other, that much she understood, but you’ve been apart for at least the past four years. And you, just like that, in one sentence, made Cairo look lost in her thoughts, a yet to be opened book in her hands.

And even worse than that Winnie heard your name before, though Cairo never talked about you. Between Cairo’s reaction to recognizing you, and then her willingness to let you take her out, take her somewhere outside of the village, there was no doubt in Winnie’s mind that you were the same person from that night.

~X~

Cairo was in a really bad mood the whole week and Winnie wanted to cheer her up, but nothing was working. It was like it didn’t matter that they had good weather, that a small cinema just opened in the village. Well, Cairo wasn’t much of a movie fan, she preferred her books, so that didn’t do much for her, but it was something new in their village! And as hard as Winnie tried, she couldn’t understand why Cairo was in a bad mood. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, yet the girl didn’t want to leave her bed.

“Come on, Cairo, talk to your Winnie,” she tried to poke her, but Cairo just pushed her hand away.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she muttered, though Winnie could see her eyes were a bit puffy. And the open book next to Cairo’s head looked a bit wet.

Winnie sighed. Why wasn’t anything working? She groaned, losing her patience with the girl and leaving her bedroom. She’d go and make some food for Cairo, since she wasn’t sure when was the last time the girl ate, but as she came back after spending way too much time deciding on what to make for Cairo with a sandwich in hand she realized Cairo was asleep.

Cairo mumbled something incoherent in her sleep, not for the first time, she often talked in her sleep, though Winnie rarely got the opportunity to hear it. Well, at least she was sleeping. She figured she should leave, and so she placed the plate on Cairo’s nightstand and turned to leave. She didn’t dare to push a few strands of Cairo’s hair out of her face.

“Wait,” Cairo muttered and for a moment Winnie’s heart skipped a beat, but when she turned she saw Cairo was still asleep. “Y/N,” the girl said a name Winnie never heard before, but she said it with so much longing Winnie could have sworn her own heart broke for the girl. Who was she dreaming about? Why did she never mention this ‘Y/N’? She didn’t know, she wouldn’t dare to ask because the tone of Cairo’s voice told her enough already.

~X~

The moment Cairo realized who you were that night came to Winnie’s mind and at first Winnie was worried. She wasn’t sure how Cairo would react, and more importantly she wasn’t sure what made the two of you separate. Yet that worry began fading when she realized just how softly you were looking at Cairo, she saw the same longing in your eyes, the same intensity as the longing she heard in Cairo’s voice.

And though she could admit she was feeling jealous that you so openly looked at Cairo like she was the only one in the room, she was glad whatever separated you and Cairo didn’t leave you mad at the girl.

“What are you thinking about?” Winnie finally chose to speak up and if Cairo wasn’t as composed as she was she was sure the girl would have jumped a bit.

“Just childhood,” she said as she got up and placed the book back on the shelf, and Winnie saw that it was some book by Jules Verne, which wasn’t too unusual, but it definitely wasn’t the genre Cairo was currently into.

“About Y/N?” she asked, observing carefully as Cairo went stiff, as she looked to the side, refusing to meet Winnie’s gaze.

“It doesn’t matter, I have other things to do,” Cairo grabbed a pack of cigarettes and went to her laptop, and Winnie got a message, she didn’t feel like talking about you.

But she still agreed to go with you, and while she didn’t say it, and while she tried to hide it, Winnie knew her well enough by now. Cairo wanted you back in her life.

~X~

Saturday came way too quickly! Between classes, settling down, handling the moving, well, a handful of things that you couldn’t carry on your motorcycle being shipped to you, and all the small details that took up your time you felt like you blinked, and Saturday arrived!

You haven’t seen Cairo since Monday, and you had to admit you were a bit too anxious for your own liking. What would you talk about? Would you be able to go back to the way things were before she suddenly cut you off from her life? No, of course it couldn’t be the same. It’s been years, you were different people now. Would she be okay with riding on your motorcycle? Was that pushing her too far out of blue? Forcing her to be that close to you? Maybe you should take your parents’ car? Did it have enough gas though?

Maybe you should, but you weren’t that experienced with cars, you were much more comfortable on your motorcycle and you didn’t want to be a nervous mess in front of Cairo. Well, any bigger nervous mess than you were going to be in less than half an hour.

Motorcycle it is! If she isn’t comfortable, you’ll just go back and get the car. With that in mind you went to get dressed, opting for simple jeans and a white T-shirt, with your jacket, gloves, and boots.

And now you just sat there, taking deep breaths to calm down your nerves. You didn’t even specify the time! And you didn’t get her bloody number!

“Damn it!” you yelled, almost slamming your helmet and the rest of the protective gear on and got on your motorcycle. You’ll figure shit out with her instead of torturing yourself like this!

~X~

She should have asked you for your number. She should have told you exact time you should meet up. Was she supposed to come to you, or would you come to her house? Why didn’t she think this out more carefully?!

All things considered, Cairo’s been ready for an embarrassingly long time, for about two hours now. Since seven in the morning since she could barely sleep last night. And she spent an hour going through her wardrobe, never quite happy with what she was wearing. In the end she chose to go with black shorts and a button-up baby blue shirt. She was so distracted by her own worries that she nearly missed someone ringing her bell. It had to be you, after all, one of the last buses would leave in half an hour and after that you wouldn’t be able to leave for another three hours.

She took a deep breath and went to the front doors a bit too quickly for her own liking, but there was no going back now. She opened the doors and saw you, with a helmet in hand and a bit of a nervous smile on your face. You were wearing a sturdy-looking black jacket with red stripes going down the sleeves and your sides, it matched your gloves and helmet as well. Wait… A helmet? Her eyes widened. “When did you come back?” she blurted out, surprising you.

“Hm? Oh, Last Saturday night, I drove down the road,” you pointed with your thumb behind you. “So maybe you heard me? The lights were on,” you said and sure enough, there was a red motorcycle on the road, parked right next to her gate. You were her biker from last week.

“Sorry, yeah, I heard you, I just,” she frowned, hating the shakiness of her voice. “I did hear you, I just didn’t realize it was you,” she said, suddenly feeling stupid. Of course she didn’t realize it was you. Why would she? She didn’t know you were coming back, it never even crossed her mind that you’d come back, and she certainly never imagined you coming back on a motorcycle.

You smiled, as if you relaxed due to her embarrassing stammering. “It’s okay, hey, it’s just me,” you said softly, and Cairo nodded. “By the way, I know we didn’t specify the time, so, do you need me to wait for you, or maybe come later?”

“Now is fine, I’m ready,” she said and you rubbed the back of your head nervously.

“You should put jeans or something like that on,” you muttered. “And a jacket, sorry, I should have brought another one with me,” you apologized as Cairo blushed. Yeah, her shorts probably weren’t a good idea if you were going on a motorcycle. “Or would you like me to go get my parents’ car?”

She shook her head. “No, this is fine, I’ll go get changed,” in her nervousness she slammed the doors closed and then leaned her forehead against it. “I’m so stupid,” she whispered, feeling her face burning as she pleaded or the ground to open up and swallow her. First conversation in almost seven years, the first time alone after all that time and she was a nervous wreck. And now she pretty much slammed the door in your face to make things even worse.

She ran up the stairs and changed into the first jeans she came across and grabbed a denim jacket. It would have to do, she didn’t have anything as sturdy as wheat you were wearing. She looked at the mirror and blushed even harder when she realized her face was still so red. “Come on, Cairo, get it together,” she glanced outside her window, you were still there, still waiting for her. She really should have invited you in instead of closing the doors like that.

Well, there was no going back now. She went outside again and scratched her cheek a bit as you looked her over and nodded. This would do. She followed you to your motorcycle and stopped when you pulled guards for elbows and knees and shins out.

“I’m a careful biker, but better safe than sorry. Did you ever put these on?” you asked her.

“No,” she said and you dropped down to your knee.

“It might be better if I put them on you the first time, to make sure everything is in place. Is that okay with you?” you looked at her and waited until she nodded, not trusting her voice. You didn’t waste time or any movement, from what she could tell, just putting the guards on her legs and elbows and then taking the helmet and gently put it on her and she was thankful that the visor was already down because you were tucking her hair in and your fingers accidentally brushed against her neck and she just knew her entire face was about as red as it could get.

She would have to mark this date as the day filled with embarrassment and absolutely everything going wrong for her.

~X~

You managed to calm your nerves as the two of you got on the motorcycle, Cairo even placed her hands around your waist without you telling her and that was a relief, because you could tell she was nervous, but you weren’t sure if she wanted to talk or just relax during the ride, so, you remained silent for the most part.

When you got on the open road and drove for a few miles you felt her hands unclenching from their vice grip on your jacket and she seemed to relax a bit.

“Is this okay?” you asked her through the helmet’s communication system.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Do you do this a lot?” she asked.

“You mean riding? Or having a passenger?” you grinned a bit, hoping you weren’t making her feel awkward.

“Both actually,” Cairo loosened up a bit.

“Yes, for riding, no, for passengers, well, it happened a few times, but more because we didn’t have much of a choice than because I wanted someone behind me,” you told her.

“Mhm,” she accepted the answer, leaning a bit closer to you now, though maybe that was just to be safe.

About an hour later and only a bit of occasional questions and comments about the nature you rode past, you arrived at your destination. It was exactly what you promised, the beautiful view with river flowing nearby, a mountain cottage aesthetic to the restaurant and a nice live music playing just loud enough to enhance the feel.

You and Cairo sat down across one another and she gracefully took the menu. You were still early enough for a breakfast so you knew exactly what you wanted.

“All of this looks good,” she commented. “You went here before, right?”

You nodded. “Lots of times,” you didn’t want to admit it, but you wanted to go back to go back to the village several times, to maybe see if Cairo was still there, or ask her parents for a way to contact her, but you always changed your mind in the last possible second, turning around and coming here to take a break.

“Help me out then?” she requested with a small pout on her face.

“I suggest French toast with berries and whipped cream if you’d like something sweet, or an mushrooms and onion omelet,” you said, those were by far your favorites as far as breakfast menu went.

Cairo nodded as the waiter came over.

“Hey, Y/N, you brought company this time,” he was a polite man in his late twenties, and you came to the restaurant so regularly pretty much everyone on the staff knew you by now.

“Hello, yeah,” you met her eyes, silently asking for her permission to introduce her, and as if the years changed nothing between you she smiled a bit. “This is Cairo, my childhood friend,”

He turned to her and nodded, bowing slightly. “Nice to meet you, I’m Robert and I’ll be your waiter for the day. What may I bring you?”

“I’ll have French toast with berries and whipped cream, and a Coca Cola please,” Cairo said.

Robert nodded, writing it down and turning to you.

“Mushroom and onion omelet with iced tea,” you told him.

“Coming right up,” he nodded, leaving the two of you alone.

And, as if the small interaction broke all the tension between the two of you, you just leaned forward, your arms resting on the table with your gloves and your and Cairo’s helmets safely out of the way. “Tell me everything,” you told her. “How have you been? What’s been going on these past years?”

Cairo didn’t lean as much as you, but she did get a bit closer. “I really don’t have a lot to tell you. You know how things are back home, nothing ever changes,” she said. “Well, we did get a cinema, and Winnie likes to go there often so, I guess I’ve been reluctantly watching movies.”

You laughed at that. Cairo and movies? Now that sounded almost ridiculous when you were kids. “For real? I’m glad she got you to try something new,” you replied, nodding to Robert as he brought your drinks.

“She’s persistent, but she’s been my best friend ever since I started high school,” Cairo said with a smile on her face, and you could tell she cared about the girl.

“I’m happy to hear that,” and you were, you were worried she would still be lonely, but she found a best friend, one capable of dragging her to movies of all things.

“And you? I mean, as far as best friends go?” she asked, turning the glass in front of her before opening the bottle and pouring some of the Coca Cola in.

“I haven’t really stayed in one place long enough to get to that point. My parents moved a lot until I was fifteen,” you told her. “And after that, well, they settled down, but then I began moving since I turned sixteen and got my motorcycle,” you explained. You really did move a lot, and you never really made connections worth the best friend status. After all, Cairo did set a bar pretty high.

“So, you went and began traveling,” she looked through the window. “This is my first time outside our village,” you found it hard to believe, but looking at her face you realized she was telling the truth.

“You’ll have time to explore every place you want. You’re not late for anything,” you just told her, though you couldn’t tell her that you were happy you were the first one who got to take her somewhere. There, with the last hints of morning light shining through the window and illuminating her hair you felt your breath getting stuck in your throat.

For the first time in your life you didn’t think Cairo was pretty, she was beautiful, so effortlessly beautiful you found it hard to look away. And she didn’t change much from what you could tell. She was still a lot like she was when you were kids, only more closed-off from the looks of it.

You missed her, you missed this, even if having a meal in a restaurant wasn’t something you used to do as kids, well, without your parents taking you there at the very least. No, you just missed being with her, her voice, her eyes, her smile, you missed all of that.

And in the midst of that realization, you didn’t figure out something just as important. That there was a feeling that wasn’t there before emerging in your heart.

“You think?” she sounded uncertain.

You just nodded, even if she was uncertain you’ve met enough people to know that she was exceptional.

You ended up having a lunch at the restaurant as well, talking about random things, about a book Cairo read, or about a place you visited, or a movie Winnie made her watch, or a new song she recently heard. And that eventually moved the conversation toward music.

“Do you still remember everything you hear?” she asked, smiling fondly as if she was reminiscing about good old times when you and her would spend time reading. Well, when she would read and you’d listen.

“Unfortunately,” you chuckled, remembering way too vividly that teacher reading about… split fig. “Don’t ask, I have scars I wish I could erase from my memory,” you quickly raised a hand to stop her. It wasn’t even the split fig, as much as the circumstances during which you heard it.

“Okay, okay,” she laughed, giving up on further questioning. “Did you consider learning to play an instrument?” she asked instead and you looked back toward the band.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you teased, looking back at her and watching her light up.

“You did, didn’t you?” Cairo sounded excited about the idea.

You just winked at her and hopped to your feet. “I’ll be back soon enough,” you jogged over to the band without waiting for her reply.

“Hey, Jack, mind if I borrow your guitar?” you opened with that, not even bothering to say ‘hi’ properly. You were a bit excited to play a song for her.

“Hello to you too, biker girl, which song are we playing?” he humored you, glancing behind you and seeing Cairo. He seemed to piece it together quickly enough.

“Just instrumentals this time. I don’t want to miss a thing, the guitar cover,” you told him, accepting the electric guitar and taking a seat.

You weren’t sure if Cairo would recognize the song, and maybe the lyrics would be a bit too much in case she already didn’t know the song. So, just this would do. You nodded to the rest of the band and they began playing. You waited for half a minute and then joined them and as you played you looked at Cairo, smiling back at you as she listened and swayed a bit to the soft tunes of the guitar you were playing.

Still, it didn’t look like she recognized the song, she just enjoyed the melody. And that was fine as well, perfect even as far as you were concerned.

The song ended and you thanked Jack before going back to Cairo. “I guess I can play a bit,” you said as you sat down.

“A bit? Yeah, that was a bit. What song was that?” she demanded but you just shook your head. “Come on, tell me!”

“You will never know!” you laughed, ignoring her pleading eyes.

“Please, I want to listen to it,” she tried again, but you were adamant on staying silent.

You might tell her later, not now though. She could live a bit longer without knowing the song.

~X~

The ride back was pleasant, the soft breeze, the almost empty open road, the smooth way you drove, as well as how easy it felt to just put her arms around your waist. When you parked outside her house, she almost reluctantly got off your motorcycle, but staying on it would have been too awkward to explain.

“Thank you for today, I loved it,” she said as you took off the knee and shin guards off her while she was handling the elbow guards.

“Thank you for accepting,” you reached up and helped her get the helmet off since she still wasn’t used to doing it. You didn’t take your own helmet off, just lifted your visor so she could see your eyes.

She felt at peace, she finally set foot outside her village, she just expanded her world and she did it with you. And she couldn’t think of a better person to do it with.

“I missed you,” she said, her hands reaching for your helmet and, as if in trance, you helped her take your helmet off and lowered it on your seat, and Cairo, she just stepped forward, hugging you not nearly as tightly as she wanted to do, but still, she was hugging you.

“I missed you too, Cairo,” you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her a bit closer.

She didn’t want the night to end, she wanted to invite you in, to talk more, to make up for lost time, to apologize and explain what happened that day, to tell you just how much she wanted to approach you. But she did none of that, she just separated from you once again and smiled at you as she watched you get on your motorcycle. “I’ll see you on Monday,” you said, and she nodded, eager to see you again.

Taglist: @deimaisgail @bee-keeping @marvelous-disaster @jmwetterlund @tekanparadiae

@alexkolax @ioveyouyouloveme @aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh

[maginxlia]

Tokyo Revengers Men ✰ In Dirty Pictures of You

Cast Line Up Ran, Rindou, Hajime, Haruchiyo, Mikey and Shuji

Rated TV-MA

Minors this isn't For You

Summary ✰ What kind of Filthy (Consensual) Pictures the Men have of you on their phones plus Them touching themselves cause you're so fucking sexy.

No pronouns up in here but the Reader has a Kitty

Ran Haitani

✰ Ran Haitani is whipped by your ass

✰ Your ass dominates his thoughts, Time, and energy

✰ That's why your ass is all over his phone lock screen and home screen

✰ Rindou tossed Rans's phone across the room when he had mistaken it for his own after seeing the Lock Screen while Ran laughed “Beautiful ass too much for you little bro? Ran Giggled out as Rindou scoffs

✰ Rans is proud of your ass, He's always taking pictures of it with and without clothes on

✰ He Raises your skirts up daily to a take picture of how those lace panties he brought you fit that ass of yours

✰ His most frequent video of you? The one he was fucking you from behind and that ass of yours was dancing on his dick while he pounded down your pussy, It never fails to make him hard as a rock when he watches it

Ran Haitani was currently in a private booth by himself with what seemed to be his suit Jacket over his lap. What was going on under that suit jacket? He was pumping his dick as his eyes stayed focused on his phone while the video of you taking backshots played

His brother and the Guys were busy doing Lord Knows what, How could he not touch himself?? All he could think about was how your back arched perfectly for him while he fucked your pretty pussy and not to mention that ass!

The thought of your ass alone was enough for him to nearly moan aloud as he picked up the pace fucking his hand “ I'm going to spank the hell out that ass when I get home” he thought to himself

He couldn't stop his stomach from contracting when you turned around with that fucked out expression on your face, Your face was enough to make his dick leak

His hip bucked up against his hand as he began to cum in his suit jacket. Once he rode out his high he noticed he had came in Sanzu's Jacket “Fuck” He said as Grab the Jacket before dialing your Number “When I get Home I want you face down Ass up Love” he groaned out to you , his words alone were enough to make you wet.

Now to get this Jacket Dry cleaned.

Rindou Haitani

✰ How many pictures of your Titties Rindou has? You swear you lost count after twenty

✰ “ Raise your shirt” He commands as he takes a picture of your beautiful tits being captured in the expensive bra he bought you

✰ His home screen changes every day it seems like every time you see it there's a new picture of your tits

✰ Guards his phone with his life, How many times he caught Ran trying to peek over his shoulders is enough to sicken him

✰ Your tits drive him to be a better man, He and his dick worship them

✰ He can't help his mouth starts to salivate and his dick gets hard when he sees your titties looking all perfect on his phone

Rindou is currently in the restroom after a meeting, his back against the wooden wall as he strokes his dick up and down while he holds his dress shirt up with his teeth

He swears he going to bust soon as he stares down at his phone, the video of you riding him while your titties bounce freely making him shiver

His Strokes only became faster as he heard his brother knocking on the door “ Man, What the fuck! What are you doing in there? Other people got to use it too” Ran’s muffled voice couldn't break his concentration as He imagined himself fucking your tits

His legs nearly gave away as he came powerfully over his hand, Rindou made sure to take a picture of his cum and dick before he cleaned up

Sending you the picture with the caption “ Look at what you made me do. I'm going to fuck you good when I get home” As he left the restroom, his brother? None the wiser

Hajime Kokonoi

✰ Hajime's dirty little secret is that his home screen is a picture of you

✰ But ain’t no ordinary picture! It's a picture of you sitting naked on his desk with your legs wide open, a gold necklace with his name on it the only thing to adorn your body

✰ That picture brings back fond memories for him, after it was taken he dicked you down so good on his desk that he thought for sure he was going to impregnate you and break his desk

✰ Somewhere deeper in his phone is a picture of you all fucked out from the same night

✰ His Phone is protected by a password no one can guess, He protects these photos with his life

✰ If you only knew how many times he teased his dick to these images of you

Hajime sits in his office, his pretty dick in one hand and in the other? His phone

The screen illuminates the most filthiest picture of you as he stroke his dick with his expensive hand lotion

His hand teasing his tip when he zooms in on your pretty pussy making him groan so softy

“I`m going to fuck you real good when I get home just you wait and see” these words fell from his lips without much thought as stroked his dick harder. Imagining it was your hands around him

His white hair is a mess as he tosses his head back in pleasure, his dick is throbbing while his hips involuntary buck up into his hand only stopping when he heard a knock on his door before he heard Sanzu's voice “ I got those files you wanted”

‘Shit” He thought to himself as he got prepared to get back to work, his dick straining back in his Louis Vuitton pants as he covered himself with his suit jacket before telling Sanzu to come in

Haruchiyo Sanzu

✰ Haruchiyo has an addiction of taking pictures of your face when he fucking your pussy good, He can't help you look so good all fucked out

✰ He’s smiling like a madman as drills your pussy deep while his phone snaps all the delicious photos of you

✰ His home screen is blessed by the photo of your fucked out face and he can't deny it

✰ He's bold as hell leaving his phone unlocked at Bonten Meetings but who the hell going to fuck with his phone? He`ll chop their hands off toot sweet (Unless it's Mikey)

✰ His prized photo is the one he captured of you while you were having an orgasm, That's the Image he wants to be printed into his eyelids. So perfect.

Haruchiyo's ass was seated on your shared bed as he played with his dick, Gently teasing himself up to cumming while he went through all his photos of you

He moaned when he landed on the photo of you in the middle of an orgasm, his legs tremble as his dick leaked precum while he stroked his dick to the same rhythm he fucked you in that special night

He fucked up into his fist as he imagined you being under him pulling that face “Fuck. So fucking beautiful. I'm going to dick you down so fucking good, you won't be able to walk tomorrow” He groaned to himself as he glance down at your photo as he started cumming

Once he was done sent a picture of his still hard dick to you with the text attach “ I'm cumming deep inside of you when you get home”

Manjiro ‘Mikey’ Sano

✰ All the Nasty Photos this man has of you his favorites always going to be the ones with your lips around his dick

✰ You look so beautiful with his hands in your hair as he guides you down on his hard dick, those tears in your eyes only add to the beauty of the photo

✰ In fact, to Mikey, you look absolutely delicious on your knees for him so ready to use your mouth to please him

✰ The sweetest treat as you take him to the back of your throat

✰ Your photo is his home screen and whenever he opens his phone he can't help but adores the photo of you sucking him off

✰ His phone is already highly guarded and he has no fear of anyone trying to take a peek, That would be a death wish after all

✰ High value content: the video of him cumming down your throat as you swallow him up

Sitting in the back of his car waiting for Sanzu, Mikey Hand had found his dick as he watched his phone

The video playing was you sucking him off with those soft lips of yours, He strokes his dick along to the rhythm of your head going up and down on his dick

Fucking himself to you as sweat slowly ran down his face “Yeah? Let me fuck that pretty mouth” he said as his strokes became sloppier

His eyes half opened as he kept his focus on pleasing himself, Thankful that his windows are tinted but also wishing he had you here to suck him dry

Only halting when he noticed Sanzu had made an appearance, Tucking himself back in his pants before sending you a text “When I get Home I'm cumming down your throat Sweetness”

(Bonus) Shuji Hanma

✰ Dirty Man's home screen is a picture of your PUSSY all wet before he fucked you to an incoherent mess

✰ Has plenty of pictures of your pussy in pretty panties that he asked you to send to him cause he's a fiend for them

✰ Your pussy always looks so scrumptious to him, he just can't help himself to just one photo

✰ 1,228 photos of you and your kitty exposed to him in different positions

✰ Loves when you take his phone and take more photos of yourself, it's his favorite surprise beside you sitting naked on his lap

✰ No one sees the Photos but him, he Will slap the blood out a fool face with his sin hand

✰ His favorite thing on his phone is a video of his dick entering you before he fuck you nice and silly

Shuji fucking his fist while his eyes studied the video of him fucking you nice and raw

He's a busy man but he found time in his busy schedule to play with his dick as he stared down your pussy

It's your fault anyway that his dick this hard at work as his dick throbs to the thought of him entering your soft warm walls, he even shivered like he was really entering you making him groan

“I'm gonna fuck that pussy till you're nice and sore baby” He groans to himself as his fist fucks himself near the edge

His grip getting more harsh as his breathing comes more haggard, He closed his eyes as he came over his Prada pants making him groan once more

He took a picture of his mess before sending you this text along with it “Come to my office, I'm going to fuck you on the floor baby”

Hotties on the Taglist ❤️‍🔥 @obitohno @whatdoyoumeanitsnotcanon @bakarilennox @ransluvrboy @earlmeow

Likes, Comments, Reblogs, And Asks are Appreciated & Loved

Please Don’t Steal My Shit

[cooliogirl101]

What do the rest of the Cullens think about Mia? Do they know why Edward is so invested in listening to her thoughts? Does he later retells the stories he hears to his family and they also get invested?

Also, lmao at Jasper. Poor boy, being hit by a fuckton of angst without ever knowing why. Can’t Mia think up some sappy fluff to go with her hurt no comfort fic?

(Damn you for getting me invested in Twilight out of all things)

Rosalie: Is pissed af because ain’t no way Edward is seriously considering giving away their secret just so he can ask about the next season of Whatever-The-Fuck-Is-Going-On-In-Mia-Chen’s-Brain

(Edward protests that he’s only ever considered divulging his mind reading ability, not the vampirism).

That being said, she’s mainly pissed at Edward and not Mia. She warmed up to Mia significantly after Edward told her Mia used her face as inspo for a fantasy race of devastatingly beautiful Heavenly warriors.

Emmett: Finds this whole thing hilarious. Keeps bugging Edward to see if Mia has used him as inspiration for any characters of hers.

(She has— all the Cullens, flawless and captivating by design, are fantastic sources of visual inspiration to imagine angels, demons, fairies, elves, and pretty much every fantasy race out there. Sardonically, Edward notes that she’s never once used them as inspiration for an ordinary human).

Jasper: Alternately annoyed and impressed at her emotional range.

(Edward can’t help but wonder why Mia keeps referring to Jasper as “the Southerner” in her thoughts. Like sure it’s a part of his backstory they’ve provided but not a prominent one.

Little does he know Mia’s expending significant mental effort not to refer to Jasper as “Jasper-the-Confederate” every time she sees him).

Alice: The only one with a legitimate reason to interact with Mia. They share an art class together and at first, Mia was going to do her level best to avoid the hell out of her (yes, yes, she’s always imagined what it would be like to meet characters from the books she’s read, the Cullens included— that being said, she’s since discovered she would much prefer to only meet them in her imagination, not in reality).

Then they got assigned to do an art project together. Alice suggested something to do with fashion, which Mia readily agreed to. Somehow, the conversation shifted to a discussion over, hypothetically, the differences in fashion that would exist between deep sea mermaids vs shallow water/reef mermaids, in the event that mermaids existed.

Alice somehow manages to wrangle a promise out of Mia to come over to the Cullen house (“Oh, this’ll be so much fun! What a fantastic idea! We’ll play mermaids— or design mermaid clothes, at any rate. Don’t worry about the materials, I’ll have everything arranged”). Mia, so caught up in their discussion that she temporarily forgot the whole vampire thing, agreed without thinking.

(Edward is not jealous. He’s not).

Esme: Honestly just loves that Edward is interested in something again (he’s been idly composing soundtracks for his favorite scenes).

Mia, who was always kind of pissed that Esme’s (who had a pretty interesting backstory, all things considered— SM was always decent at coming up with those) entire character had been basically reduced to “wife and mother”, decides that since she’s stuck going to the Cullen House anyway, that by God she’s gonna find out what this woman’s passions are outside of devoting her entire life to her husband and kids. Otherwise the whole thing offends her character development sensibilities.

By the end of the visit, Esme is bemusedly shopping for a car alongside a delighted Alice and a fuming Mia because “What do you mean you’re the only one in the family without a vehicle?!”

(She ends up rather fond of Mia).

Carlisle: Confused but supportive. Mia, side eyeing him, keeps dropping hints about how much she loves sleeping and eating and animals and going out in the sun, just in case he starts getting any funny ideas.

[theminecraftbee]

Grian hums, cackling quietly to himself as he puts the finishing touches on the netcode. He has some proper admin friends who check it over for him, of course—just because he knows he has a sense of fair play doesn’t mean everyone else does—but the game’s set. A bit brutal, of course, but what fun’s an ordinary game?

“Okay, names. Gotta have a good one for the game. Something—something life, I think, since those are the central mechanic… I’d say third, but that seems… wrong somehow.”

He steps across the room, thinking. “Last? But no, that’s too bleak. Too on-the-nose! Something to do with the twist, then,” he mutters. “Something to do with the twist. Something to do with…”

There’s an intake of breath in the back of the room. Grian whirls around. “Excuse me, I’m doing secret gamemaster things—Tim?”

There, in the chair, is Jimmy. He’s reading a book. He’s leaned against the back of his seat, like he’s been there for a while. Yellow feathers are stuck to that stupid blue jacket he has; funny, Grian doesn’t remember those.

Jimmy turns a page of the book.

“What on earth are you doing here? You know, if the Rift was acting up, you’re supposed to tell someone, not go through. You could get trapped, and trust me Tim, no one wants that.”

No response. Jimmy turns a page of the book.

Grian huffs. “Even if you were allowed to be here, and missed me that much—can’t say the same, really—no one’s allowed in here. There’s a sign and everything. This is a secret plotting room. You’ve got to respect The Rules, Tim, you know this.”

Jimmy turns a page of the book. Grian stares for a moment, taking a step forward.

“If you’re trying to prank me, trust me, it’ll backfire. We’ve done this dance before. You might be able to get away with calling yourself the Law at home, but you know my respect for rules that aren’t…”

He trails off. Jimmy turns a page of the book. Something dark crawls down Grian’s spine. He steps back again, and then another.

“You aren’t Timmy,” Grian says.

“No I ain’t,” Death says.

He turns another page. Grian steps back until he realizes he’s against the wall.

“You’re not—why do you look like Jimmy?”

“I don’t choose these things,” Death says. He pauses at something on a page and chuckles. Grian’s heart pounds. Something spins in his head. He reaches for a weapon in his inventory, then thinks better of it. It won’t work. Not against this, not now, not like this—

“It’s not time,” Grian says.

“Don’t you worry,” Death says. He looks up from his book at last. He shrugs. “That’s why I brought a book.”

Grian stares. “What?” he says hoarsely.

“Finish namin’ it and don’t worry so much about me,” Death says, gesturing back at the world Grian had been setting up to play in. “Go on. Trust me; I can wait. You’ll know when I’m done readin’.”

“No, you—you have to explain. Why are you here? It’s not—it’s just a game. Why are you here?” Grian exclaims.

Death doesn’t respond. He just turns another page in the book.

Grian tries to speak again, but before he can, he hears someone at the door. He panics. “No, don’t come in!” he shouts, turning to the door, heart racing but certain he can’t let anyone else into the room with—

He turns back. Death is gone. There is a feather on the chair; it is white.

Grian’s heart is still pounding.

“I’m putting too much work into this,” Grian says, finally slumping against the wall to the ground. “I’m hallucinating about it. You know, no one’s going to let me hear the end of it. At least it’ll be perfect.”

The words echo back oddly, like three more distorted copies of themselves, all layered on top of it. His voice sounds different in each one. Grian’s hands are clenched so tightly that his knuckles are white and his palms are bruising.

“I can name it later,” he says quietly, and this time, there’s no echo at all.

[trash-bin-ary]

I don’t write fanfiction but uh I should be asleep but I’m thinking about Kelsey and Trudy so have this alphabetical list of the chapter titles of a theoretical fanfic (they’d also all start with [letter] for [word])

Affection - Kelsey being fond of Trudy

Baking - Trudy bakes with Kelsey

Cooking- Trudy cooks with Kelsey

Divorce - Kelsey witnesses tuckers A+ husband behavior in person

Entranced - oh Kelsey in love but she won’t think it plainly

Flirting - testing the waters

Girl-friend - Kelsey and Trudy hanging out and being friends that are both girls (tuckers like hm 🤨)

Homosexual - Kelsey is in love and thinking it plainly

Innuendo - talking with tony about it

Jealous - Kelsey thinking I’d treat Trudy so much better than tucker

Kids - things are happening in the trout household and Kelsey’s worried for those kids

Love - contrasting Kelsey and tucker

Marriage - now is when Trudy and tucker divorce

Nauseous - Trudy ain’t taking it well

Open - Trudy is working it out, Kelsey saying her place is open to her (and her kids and her kids are like 🤨)

Pleasure - Trudy worked it out and is having a nice time with Kelsey

Queer - Kelsey is like hey women like women

Risky - Trudy is scared of that

Soften - Trudy maybe like Kelsey just a little bit

Touching - yeah okay Trudy’s interested hesitant hand holding time

Undercover- Trudy does not want this to be public knowledge but everyone’s like 👀

Visitor - tucker comes a knocking

Watching- waking up on a new day and it being peaceful

X-tra ordinary - day in their life

Zestful - it’s a good life

[maenchkin]

-“Warm Memories”

how ponyboy got close with y/n

(side series to “pink tulips”)

-𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🌷

Pony’s POV

You know, out of the entire gang, I think Y/n gets me the best. Johnnie and Soda are definitely up there with understanding me, but with Y/n I think it’s different because she doesn’t have to act all tough in front of the boys. I think a lot about how life would be if she never took a liking to Darry. I think it would be a lot less colorful without her.

Y/n’s known me since I was a pup. I can sorta recall the first time she was over. Darry n her were working on some sort of assignment for school, and she let me read some of her books.

Well, read to the best of my ability with how young I was. 

Mom and Dad enjoyed her jokes that she cracked in front of em, so she stayed for dinner. After she left Mom demanded she be over more often. She said to Darry, “You don’t let a girl like that one go,”. I think that really stuck with Darry, because Darry and Y/n have been basically inseparable since.

Sometimes I don’t understand how she can put up with Darry, but Y/n can put up with anyone. She’s friends with half the town, and definitely doesn’t need us. In fact, if it weren’t for the gang I think Y/n and Darry would’ve been some sorta Socs. She definitely has the connections. 

I’ve asked her about it before, and she snorted, laughing at my comment like it was some outta left field statement. She said “I got you, and Darry, the gang, and my Mama. Why would I ever wanna be a Soc when I have you guys?”.

Everyone in the gang loves her too. Her house is bigger than ours, so it can house the whole group pretty comfortably. She has an extra bedroom too, which is always available in case one of us needs a place to crash. Dally’s there any time he’s gotta escape the fuzz, and Johnny is there prolly once a week. But Y/n has to drag him there since he’d never ask her for such a big favor. Her cookings amazing too. It competes with my mom’s, which is a hard feat.

She’s the first person Dally calls when he needs a ride from the cooler, but from what I’ve heard from him, the first thing he hears from her is “nagging”. She cares a lot for Dally. The two of them coming from big cities and all, she knows what the hood’s like in places like that.

I’ve never met Y/n’s dad. From what I’ve gathered, her parents had a nasty divorce, which resulted in Y/n and her mother moving from Chicago all the way to Tulsa, where they took Y/n’s Grandma’s house. For a few years Y/n would go to stay with her dad for a few months in the summer, but that stopped after her father got remarried. I’ve seen a picture of him in Y/n’s bedroom. He’s a good lookin’ guy, but not Hollywood handsome like Soda. More ordinary handsome.

Y/n’s mom is great. You can really tell where she gets all of her generosity from. The first time Darry went over to their house, his shirt had some sort of hole, or tear or something. He came back with the hole repaired, and a box of cookies that Y/n’s mom demanded he take home after she found out about Soda and I.

I’ve heard the term ‘You can take a girl from the city but you can’t take the city from the girl’ before, and I think it definitely applies to Y/n sometimes. Even though she moved away in gradeschool, I think she’s a still a city girl at heart.

Don’t get me wrong, Soda’s gotta be one of my favorite people. But unlike Soda, Y/n can sit through movies, and loves to read with me. I would love to do it more often, but she works a lot, like Darry. I’m still grateful though. 

Her house has this huge room dedicated to books. Like a personal library. Y/n said a lot of the books were her mother’s, but some of them she’s read herself, or were gifted to her by family members. I’m welcome to any book there, as long as I return it in good condition.

Darry and her confuse me a little bit sometimes. It’s blaringly obvious the two like each other, so I don’t understand why they ain’t together yet. The boys have a bet going on the two of them. Soda and I think that they’ll be getting together any minute now, and Two-Bit and Steve think that they’ve already gotten married in secret. I’m really hopin’ Soda and I are right because I got a good few dollars relying on it.

I would say that I didn’t get super close with Y/n till I entered secondary school. When I was in 6th grade, I really found an interest in reading. My English teacher announced that as a requirement in his class, we had to read this whole list of books. All the books were already rented out from the library, and we ain’t got too many of the books on the list at home.

Third POV

“Darry I ain’t know what to do,” Pony sighed, resting his chin on the dining room table, staring at his brother doing homework. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to wait till the other kids are done with the books,” he said, half interested. “But the kids in my grade take ages to get through a page! I wanna get goin’ on this now,” Pony whines, rolling his eyes. “Now don’t you get mouthy Ponyboy. You’ll get to it when you get to it,” Darry responded. The front door opened and closed. “Hey Y/n,” Darry called out, “Heya Dar-Bear,” Y/n responded, sitting down next to him. Darry and Pony’s heads whipped up. “What’d you just call me?” Darry asked, confused. “Nothing,” Y/n teased, pulling out her notebook. 

“Darry, you don’t get it. I’m itchin’ to start this now,” Pony said, continuing his and Darry’s conversation. “Hm? What’s going on?” Y/n asked, looking between Darry and Ponyboy. “Ponyboy’s got this assignment in his English clas-” “We gotta read a whole buncha books in my class and I’m totally outta luck! All the books are checked outta the library.” Pony whined, staring at Y/n. 

“Hmmm, well. I could do something to help you,” Y/n smiled, watching Ponyboy’s eyebrows lift, “What d’ya mean Y/n?” he asked. “You’ll see.” she responded, “I gotta finish my work first,”. 

-

Y/n finished her last algebra problem, and looked back up to Ponyboy, who was already looking at her. “All finished?” Pony asked eagerly, smiling at her. Y/n giggled, setting down her pencil. “I suppose,” she smiled grabbing her bag. “Darry, we’re heading out,” Y/n called to Darry, who was in the living area. “Alright Y/n” he responded.

“C’mon Pony, the surprise’s at my house,” Y/n said, leading Pony out the door.

-

The two approached Y/n’s house pretty quickly, thanks to the extra pep in Pony’s step. 

“My mom’s at work right now,” Y/n said, opening the door. Pony made sure to slip his shoes off when he got in. He still shudders at the memory of Y/n’s mom chewing out Two-Bit for tracking mud on the carpet.

“Ok, now close your eyes,” Y/n said. Ponyboy shut his eyes and felt Y/n grab his and to lead him through the house. He heard her open the door and let his feet follow Y/n’s pull.

“You can open your eyes now Pony,” she said. Pony let his eyes flutter open, and dropped his jaw. All around him were books! Books from the floor to ceiling! 

“It’s our family library. Feel free to read any book in here, just promise to take care of it while you have it.” Y/n said, watching Ponyboy analyze the shelf in front of him. “Really?” Ponyboy asked in disbelief, looking back at her, “Yeah definitely. I’m glad you like reading, it’s good for you,” she said patting his shoulder. “Now, what books are on your list? We should hopefully have most of them,” Y/n said, looking around. 

Ponyboy grabbed the list that was folded in his pocket. “We can start with ‘Old Yeller’,”

-

Pony’s POV

Ma really saved my butt back then. And turns out, that assignment really jump started my book addiction, thanks to her. We would have reading sessions after school. I got my list finished in two months flat. My teacher said I was the first one done, and Y/n took me out for burgers at the Dingo that night to celebrate. Darry and Sodapop tagged along too. Y/n and I got real close after all that, I think she was happy she had someone to talk about books to. Y/n’s a real special girl to me and the gang as a whole. Life would be a heck of a lot different without her.

[zapreportsblog]

yandere(ish?) aro x whimsical (and probably fucking crazy) gn reader !

so gn reader has the power to induce hallucinations that can sometimes cause physical pain ! They can be used as distractions, cause the target to go insane from the wild sensations, or even cause the target’s mind to collapse permanently ! gn reader is kind of like mad hatter (idk what im saying as well) LIKE— they're whimsical, may or may not be crazy, spontaneous, creative, nd eccentric ! (just searched this on google😭😭) gn reader REALLY likes bullying teasing Caius a lot ! and they're kinda scary when provoked !

hope you have a great day mwa mwa chup chup ;p

❝here for a good time not a long time❞

✭ pairing : yandere aro x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (y/n) just happened to be a batshit crazy human turnt vampire, who also happened to be the mate of aro. Now if you thought he was bad get a load of her, she definitely gives this man a run for his money

✭ authors note : Ayo get a load of that picture of my man aro 👁️👅👁️ he looking real cute ain’t he ayyyyyye

✭ twilight masterlist 2

In the heart of Volterra, where shadows clung to ancient stone and the night whispered secrets, Aro ruled as the immortal leader of the Volturi. The centuries had molded him into a creature of unparalleled power and intrigue. Yet, even among vampires, there were mysteries that still eluded him.

Aro's existence had become a monotonous cycle of enforcing laws, observing the immortal world from the shadows, and seeking out gifted individuals to join his coven. While his life was filled with grandeur and luxury, there was an underlying sense of restlessness. Aro craved something more, something elusive that had remained beyond his grasp for centuries.

That elusive something came in a form he least expected—a whirlwind of whimsy and chaos that descended upon Volterra one fateful night.

(Y/N), a gender-neutral individual with a personality as unpredictable as a storm, had always been considered eccentric by human standards. They reveled in the absurd, relishing in the madcap dance of life, and were known to perform bizarre acts on a whim. To say they were 'bat shit crazy' was an understatement, for they seemed to have an uncanny ability to turn even the dullest moments into a carnival of chaos.

Aro first encountered (Y/N) during a late-night stroll through the dimly lit streets of Volterra. Their laughter echoed through the cobblestone alleys, drawing his attention like a moth to a flame. (Y/N) twirled in the moonlight, their laughter infectious and their movements as graceful as they were wild.

Aro watched in fascination as (Y/N) performed acrobatic feats, juggling fruit with astounding precision, and turning ordinary objects into whimsical props. The absurdity of it all left Aro intrigued and utterly captivated. He had seen many things in his long life, but nothing quite like this.

It wasn't until (Y/N) crashed headlong into Aro's path that the whirlwind finally subsided. They looked up at him, their eyes wide with surprise, and grinned from ear to ear. "Well, hello there, mysterious stranger! Fancy a dance with chaos?"

Aro, usually composed and reserved, found himself at a loss for words. His cold, calculating demeanor momentarily shattered by the sheer audacity of this stranger. In that chaotic moment, as (Y/N) continued to babble and prance about, Aro's senses were flooded with an overwhelming revelation—a connection so profound that it sent shivers down his immortal spine.

(Y/N) was their mate.

Unable to contain his newfound excitement, Aro wasted no time in turning them. He leaned in, his eyes locked onto theirs, and sank his teeth into (Y/N)'s flesh. As darkness enveloped them, Aro couldn't help but marvel at the unpredictability of fate.

When (Y/N) woke as a vampire, they retained their whimsical personality, which now took on an otherworldly charm. Their laughter echoed through the Volturi castle, enchanting those who heard it. But it was their unique gift that truly set them apart.

With a mere thought, (Y/N) could induce hallucinations that ranged from delightful illusions to nightmarish phantasms. Their powers could cause physical pain, plunge a victim into madness, or even shatter a mind permanently. Aro saw immense potential in (Y/N)'s abilities, especially when Jane or Alec were unavailable to handle delicate situations.

Despite their penchant for calling Aro mean names in their peculiar brand of love language and engaging in a cruel form of teasing, (Y/N) had an undeniable affection for their mate. Their love was expressed through a blend of mockery and tender physical touches that left Aro both bewildered and strangely enchanted.

The bond between Aro and (Y/N) was a dance of opposites, an immortal saga that defied logic and embraced the whimsy of eternity. Little did they know that their union would soon become a cornerstone of the Volturi's power, adding a touch of chaos to the immortality that had grown all too predictable.

The sunless day in Volterra began as any other, with the members of the Volturi going about their immortal routines. Aro and his mate, (Y/N), had been inseparable since their transformation. Their whimsical nature continued to perplex and amuse the ancient vampire coven, but none more so than Caius.

Caius, the stoic and severe leader of the Volturi, had always been known for his impeccable fashion sense, stern countenance, and an icy demeanor that could chill the fieriest of tempers. Yet, his refined sensibilities were the perfect target for (Y/N)'s relentless teasing.

(Y/N) had taken it upon themselves to follow Caius around that particular day, a mischievous glint in their eye. They commented on his fashion choices with unrestrained glee. "Oh, Caius," they exclaimed, "I must say, that cloak does absolutely nothing for your complexion. Have you considered trying a different color?"

Caius, his patience wearing thin, merely gave (Y/N) a withering glare and continued on his way. But they weren't finished. They moved on to his hair, commenting, "Your hair, darling, it's positively stuck in the last century. Have you ever heard of a haircut?"

Caius clenched his jaw, determined not to let (Y/N)'s words get under his skin. They persisted, directing their whimsical torment at his face. "You know," they mused, "I can't decide if your expression is perpetually grumpy or if you've just forgotten how to smile."

His patience was wearing thin, but Caius endured. (Y/N), however, was far from done. They dropped their gaze to Caius's shoes, which were, in their opinion, the pinnacle of mockery material. "(Y/N)" they declared, "I wouldn't be caught dead in those things."

Caius finally reached his breaking point. He turned on (Y/N), his eyes blazing with an anger that rarely saw the light of day. "Enough!" he thundered, his voice echoing through the stone corridors of the Volturi castle. "Aro, come and get your insufferable mate!"

Aro, ever the picture of calm and intrigue, appeared in a flash, his crimson eyes locking onto Caius's furious gaze. "What seems to be the matter, dear Caius?" he inquired, his tone dripping with amusement.

Caius seethed, pointing a finger at (Y/N). "Your mate," he practically hissed, "has been tormenting me all day! I can't take it anymore."

Aro's lips curled into a knowing smile, and he turned his attention to (Y/N). "My love," he said, his voice laced with faux sympathy, "have you been bothering Caius?"

(Y/N) looked positively delighted, as if their mission had been accomplished. They nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yes, Aro! But don't worry, it was all in good fun."

Aro chuckled, then turned to Caius. "There you have it, dear Caius. (Y/N) was just having a bit of fun. You shouldn't take it so seriously."

Caius gritted his teeth, feeling thoroughly defeated. "This is insufferable," he muttered before turning and stalking away.

As Aro and (Y/N) watched Caius's retreating form, (Y/N) couldn't resist one final taunt. "Bye-bye, Caius, you old bitch!" they called after him, and Aro burst into laughter.

Caius's furious footsteps echoed down the hall as he disappeared from sight, leaving Aro and (Y/N) to revel in their whimsical torment. Their love was a peculiar one, built on mockery and affection, but it was a love that brought a touch of madness and laughter to the immortality of the Volturi.

As Bella and Alice found themselves in the intimidating presence of the Volturi kings, Aro, Marcus, and Caius, they couldn't help but feel a shiver of apprehension. The grandeur and power exuded by the ancient vampires was overwhelming, and they stood there hesitantly, unsure of what to expect.

The atmosphere was tense, and the kings regarded the newcomers with a mixture of curiosity and scrutiny. Just as the silence threatened to become unbearable, an unexpected figure sauntered into the room, breaking the ice in the most unconventional way.

It was (Y/N), Aro's unpredictable mate. They entered the room with an exaggerated sigh and a dramatic eye roll, clearly unimpressed. "Felix and Demetri are no fun at all," they declared, their voice carrying a petulant tone. "I tried to play Uno with those two boomers, and they couldn't keep up!"

Aro, his expression a mixture of amusement and affection, couldn't help but smile as he watched (Y/N) complain about the lack of entertainment. He opened his arms, welcoming them with a warm embrace.

(Y/N), never one to resist the embrace of their beloved mate, crawled into Aro's lap, pouting exaggeratedly. "Nobody's fun around here," they mumbled, as if the weight of the world rested on their shoulders.

(Y/N) couldn't help but chime in, a mischievous glint in their eye. "Oh, I didn’t know we had guest! Pleasure to meet you. Don't mind Caius; he's just a grumpy old vampire."

Caius raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by (Y/N)'s brazenness. "I beg your pardon?"

(Y/N) simply shrugged and continued to pout in Aro's lap. "Well, it's true. Your face looks perpetually grumpy. No offense. Actually no, take great offense to that you old hag!”

Aro couldn't suppress a snort of laughter at the unexpected turn of events. He patted (Y/N)'s head fondly, knowing that their unpredictable nature was one of the many things he cherished about them.

[maxwell-grant]

I’ve noticed once or twice among the pulp hero’s a dude with a crystal ball mysterio helmet in a dark suit. I can’t help but notice that what the Orb look is baller, it’s really distinct from other pulp characters he’s getting grouped with. What’s this guys deal and why is he so different from other pulp dudes?

(Meme on the left by Questionposting)

Ethel Knapp, twenty, stood in her furnished room and peered at the gas jet. For ten minutes she had been peering at it, trying to summon the courage necessary to turn it on—without a lighted match above it. She had no money. She had come to Great City from her home in Ohio to work. She had no work. She had no way of returning to her mother and father. But she did have a way of saving herself from further hunger and humiliation. 

The gas jet.

She raised her hand toward it. Startled, she paused. A faint rustling sound came into the room. Looking down, she saw an envelope creeping under the door. She took it up, bewildered, and opened it. Inside lay money— currency held together by a band of silver paper—banknotes totalling $200!

“I can’t bear to see suffering, Angel. I can no more help trying to alleviate it than I can help breathing. If there were any other way of taking money from those who hoard it, and giving it to those who desperately need it—if there were any other way than stealing, I’d take that way. But there isn’t.” - The Sinister Sphere

This is The Moon Man. Moon Man was created by C. Frederick Davies and appeared in 38 stories from 1933 to 1937 and was a cross between The Shadow and Robin Hood, a black-clad urban avenger with a unique costume who stole from the rich to provide for the poor and was viciously hunted by law enforcement and the criminal underworld for it, not helped by the fact that his true identity is that of Stephen Tatcher, the 25-year-old police sergeant and son of the police chief, engaged to the daughter of his worst enemy, a lieutenant constantly trying to get Moon Man in the electric chair.

There's three main things that set The Moon Man apart from the other costumed pulp heroes and Shadow imitators from his day: Number one is that, despite looking a lot like Mysterio, he actually had much more in common with Spider-Man than even The Spider himself, in that he was mostly an ordinary schlub driven to help others who had to constantly pull off precarious balancing acts to keep his job and his secret and his life. 2nd being that he is a far more socially conscious character than pretty much all of his contemporaries, dealing with economic inequality, white collar crime, and grey areas where business practices and law enforcement intermingle with criminality to trample the lower class. He's a Depression-era Robin Hood and the stories are dead serious about it.

And third is that The Moon Man is no gentleman thief or dark avenger: He does none of this for the sake of personal fulfillment or revenge, he isn't tabling fights with gangsters to occasionally do an afterschool special or make a half-hearted gesture at social commentary, this is just what he does as a baseline. He is far less preoccupied with fighting crime than he is saving people in bad circumstances, and the stories are highly preoccupied with the people he saves, and the circumstances that The Moon Man is saving them from. For a weird guy in a creepy mask who goes around in a black coat with a gun in hand, he's an unexpectadly compassionate and soft-hearted (even mopey at times) character.

A chuckle came from the silver‐headed man. “You’ve distributed the money, Angel?”

“Yeah. Got it out right away. And it certainly was badly needed, boss.”

“I know… You realize why I selected Martin Richmond as a victim, Angel?”

“I’ve got an idea he ain’t all he seems to be.”

“Not quite that,” answered the voice that came from the silver head. “He’s quite respectable, you know. Social position, wealth, all that. But there’s one thing I don’t like about him, Angel. He’s made millions by playing the market short, forcing prices down.”

“Nothin’ wrong in that, is there?”, Dargan asked.

“Not according to our standards, Angel; but the fact remains that short‐selling had contributed to the suffering of those we are trying to help. I’ve taken little enough from Richmond’s kind, Angel. I must have more— later."

Dargan peered. “I don’t quite get you, boss. You’re takin’ an awful chance—and you don’t keep any of the money for yourself.”

A chuckle came from the silver globe. “I don’t want the money for myself. I want it for those who are perishing for want of the barest necessities of life. What would you do if you saw a child about to be crushed under a truck? You’d snatch her away, even at the risk of your own life."

“Don’t think I’m questioning you, boss.” Dargan hastened to explain. “I’m with you all the way, and you know it"

"Yes, Angel,” said the Moon Man gently, “I know it. You’re the only man in the world I trust. You know what it is to suffer; that’s why you’re with me”.

The Moon Man lacked much in terms of budget or resources, partially because all of his money went to people in need, and he was under constant threat from the law and underworld alike, each more bloodthirsty than the other in how badly they wanted to mount his Argus helmet on a platter (he didn't even make the helmet himself, he mail-ordered it under his detective arch-enemy’s name). His father is a police chief with a weak heart, which adds an extra pressure to Stephen's secret in that it being revealed will not only lead to his father being fired, but likely dying from shock.

He picks hide-outs with creaky stairs as his main line of defense against intruders, his only line of defense is a gun, he pined over the love of a stubborn lady who initially detested his alter-ego, but eventually learned his secret and grew into a stronger person and even partner as they got engaged. And he only has one other ally he can trust:

He’d gone bad in the ring. A weakened arm made further fighting impossible. He found it just as impossible to find work. He’d drifted downward and outward; he’d become a bum, sleeping in alleys, begging food. Until, mysteriously a message had come to him from the Moon Man. 

Some day Ned Dargan was going to fight again. Some day he was going to get into the ring, knock some palooka for a row, and become champ. And if he ever did, he’d have the Moon Man to thank for it…

His main sidekick from the start, scarred ex-boxer Ned Dargan, was rescued by Moon Man from homelessness and starvation, and he was frequently named “Angel” as it was Dargan’s job to distribute the money, the narrative often filling the reader on the background of the recipients to make them not just anonymous victims, but real people with problems readers in the Depression era would have likely identified with. When we first meet them, Dargan tells him about a steamfitter with a sick daughter who needs money to pay for his kid's treatment, and a pair of kids with a recently deceased mother whose uncles can't afford to take them in and who will go to an orphanage without help, and The Moon Man promises money for all of them.

The main issue with the stories is that they do get a bit repetitive, but they're also fairly short and quick to read, and the strength of the concept, the assertive characters, the compassion, and the class dynamics that usually remain subtext in these kinds of stories, here becomes much of the text itself.

The Moon Man had a remarkable amount of continuity and consistency for a pulp hero, and only picked up more and more enemies that would constantly frame and target him with no additional allies. In fact, circa the end of the run, both his fiancé Sue as well as Angel are well acquainted with the Moon Man’s secret identity by this point and constantly beg Stephen Thatcher to give up his double life, warning him of increasing danger from both the cops and the mob, and in the last story, Blackjack Jury, he's pressured to give up his identity for good by the two and by how precariously his father's job hangs on him being able to capture Moon Man. The story and the character's run ends without revealing what decision he took.

Steve Thatcher lowered his head as though stubbornly to butt an obstacle. A wild scheme— his! He knew it. But, also, he knew the world— cruel and relentless—and he could not stand by and do nothing to save those who were suffering. The mere thought of letting others perish, while nothing was done to save them, was unendurable.

Beyond the written law was a higher one to which Steve Thatcher had dedicated himself—the law of humanity.

And if he were caught? Would he find leniency at the hands of Gil McEwen and Chief Thatcher? No. He was certain of that. Even if McEwen and the chief might wish to deal kindly with him, they would be unable to. The Moon Man now was a public enemy—his fate was in the hands of the multitude. Steve Thatcher would be dealt with like any common crook—if he were caught.

He remembered Ernest Miller’s daughter, who must go to Arizona or die; he remembered Frank Lauder, who must be cared for; he remembered Bill and Betty Anderson, who must have help.

“It’s got to be done!” he said through closed teeth. “Damn it, it’s got to be done!”

He walked swiftly through the night - The Sinister Sphere

The Moon Man is public domain and has seen some usage in modern pulp stories, but (as far as I can find) never really with the same bite that makes these stories appealing, and it's not difficult to see why the character, despite a fairly respectable run and a striking costume, remained mostly obscure. He certainly wouldn't have had any kind of 50s paperback revival without being heavily edited or rewritten entirely just in case somebody was maybe trying to trojan horse any commie talk somewhere, in a character whose main mission statement was addressing economic inequality and getting in trouble with the police over it. And nowadays, with Mysterio being so popular and "Moon Man" taking on a wholly different noxious meaning online, The Moon Man would require a slight overhaul of costume and a complete overhaul of his name, and unfortunately that entails almost making him a different character

The Moon Man stories were adapted into a short comics run circa 1940-42 where they completely overhauled his costume and changed the names, titling him The Raven, but otherwise kept the stories mostly the same. I don't have much of anything to say about him, but there is one additional bit of strangeness that followed The Moon Man's largely unsuccessful transition to comics: The Moon Man was never published in Brazil, but there was a Brazilian superhero in 1962 (which still predates Mysterio) with the exact same name and headpiece. Created by artist Gedeone Malagola who, upon being denied the opportunity to publish his own Phantom stories, simply erased the character’s head, added a cape and used a penny to draw a translucent globe for a head, creating a new hero in turn named Homem-Lua (Moon Man). The character lasted for a couple of years as a back-up on fellow superhero Black Ray’s magazine, before it’s end.

The only detail given about his past is that he was born in Brazil, initially operating near his headquarters in São Paulo before becoming a globetrotter. He lacks explicit superpowers, but is feared by criminals around the world and considered to be an immortal who’s been active for over a century, as many supporting characters in the stories claimed that their grandparents had met the hero. A master of technology who flew around in a personalized jet and was able to call upon the aid of indigenous tribes around the world, who believed him to bear the mark of a godlike entity or be said an incarnation of said entity (as a plot point it's as racist as you'd expect, but also gets a bit funny when you consider how the most famous of moon-themed superheroes this side of Japan, Moon Knight, would pan out 15 years later)

He's mostly a fairly cut-n-dry Phantom clone with some oddities here and there, namely: In one adventure, despite the character being supposedly a human, it was said that all who gaze on his face would die. He was never unmasked in the entirety of his run, and he had no compunctions about executing his villains, whether it was by burying them under a stone idol, breaking dams and letting them drown in the ensuing floods, exploding them, or outright sinking daggers into their chests. It's a very stark contrast to the pulp Moon Man, who preferred to avoid conflict entirely and would only use his gun as a last resort. Ultimately, they bear no official connection, but the strangeness of sharing the exact same name and trademark headgear. It's as if one ends where the other begins.

In some ways, I'd argue the original Moon Man is the purest wish fulfillment pulp hero of The Great Depression, because although eventually he'd take on more bizarre villains, the bulk of his stories are about this regular guy who goes around patching up wounds left by the Depression in a case-by-case basis and (barely) outfoxing and surviving repeated attacks from the powers that be only because he hides his true face from the world. He has no extraordinary abilities or resources, but he makes do as best he can with a ticking time bomb hanging above him.

As unfortunate as the character's present circumstances may be I absolutely think he's got what it takes to be striking and memorable and resonant in ways a lot of his fellow costume avengers aren't, and hey, the guy's public domain, so, if anyone wants to take a shot at reviving him or simply plopping him into a story, add another weird chapter to his history, nothing's stopping you. I simply have to believe there's an audience out there who may fall in love with a well-meaning bleeding heart trying his best who, with nothing but theatrics and smarts and a fishbowl helmet for a head, is driven to fight capitalism instead of Spider-Man.

With a strange, uncanny knowledge the Moon Man selected his victims. Those victims had climbed roughshod to power; some within the law, and others outside the pale. And the Moon Man called on them with a very definite and grim plan— for he walked in the eternal danger of a double menace. If the silent figure had any face at all, it was the face of the man in the moon!

[vctrvn-ls]

Beta Squad members as The Weeknd songs {and why}

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・. .・

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・. .・

AJ: Shameless

guys guys guyyyssss , listen to the fvcking lyrics and tell me that’s not how you imagine being in a relationship with him!! the melody too, like it just gives off such Aje vibes you know? trusstt this is his song 100% , im sure with this one

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・. .・

Niko: Losers

now now now, why would I pick a semi-basic song for my husband? well it’s not really basic though. listen to the words and fricking tell me that it doesn’t sound like a Niko thing?? like the lines “cause stupid’s next to I love you” and obviously “only losers go to school” ahahah. and the melody is so upbeat but not too over the top at the same time, just like Niko, you guys get me??? like plz I put a lot of thought into this one ahahah

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・. .・

Sharky: Rockin’

sooo I was stuck in between this song and ‘Next’ but then I came to a conclusion that the latter is too too chill (almost sad) and the lyrics wouldn’t make sense. maybe the lyrics of ‘Rockin’ don’t all apply to Sharks, but the melody is his 100% because of how catchy and easy going it sounds!!! and you would totally be rockin’ together. being with sharky would be like dating your best friend no? j think ab it, he loves to gossip (podcasts r there for a reason), he dresses sooo well (outfit matchy matchy), great listener and an overall sweetheart!!! and the line “you don’t have to waste your energy”!?!? a slay line, defo cause he’d be so carefree w u and feel amazing. Sharky ily sm <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・. .・

Kenny: Gasoline

ssshhhh guys,this is such an underrated song Im telling you, j like Kenny. this song is j *chefs kiss* for him, despite the fact that I can’t explain why the main chorus of the song has me thinking ab Kenny when the lyrics have nothing to do w him. Ik it feels like I j wasn’t bothered for poor Kenny, but that ain’t the case. really like, here you either get it or don’t, it’s j all ab the vibe rlly. (also the OD line in the chorus kind of resembles his boxing to me..like if u were to be in a relationship you’d obviously help him, help him stay motivated, always be on his side and support him no matter what, that’s why it’s “I know you won’t let me OD” , cause he would literally trust you w his whole life!!)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・. .・

Chunkz: Ordinary Life

lyrics lyrics lyrics is all I can say guys. maybe don’t listen to them too deeply, but off of the surface vibes we get religion, fame and the contrast of the two. we all know Chunkz takes his religion seriously, to the point where he gave up music, and we all know he is considered a very successful individual. so connecting the two, he probably does have a hard time balancing them which only makes sense because usually religion is more ab the spiritual world rather than the material. additionally the main chorus is lively tuneful but still sounds kind of mature (u get me guys? I hope so) which is literally a description of our bby Chunkz <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・. .・

BONUS:

Filly: Best Friends

honestly self-explanatory hahaha, like this man always talking how he doesn’t want a serious relationship or anything like that, like he a fwb typa guy. lyrics v fitting if like someone ends up falling for him (me), I mean cmon like who wouldn’t…it’s Filly. looks, charisma, vibe, j a dream man fr. the melody lowk calm, drk if it’s v Filly but in some way I would say yes..

[artzychic27]

Random incorrect SpongeBob quotes from Clams featuring the Akuma Class because… I’m bored and ain’t got much going on

*A siren goes off in the classroom*

Kim: What's going on?

Alix: Something stupid, I'm sure.

*the alarm stops as a curtain opens up to show a band in the playing celebration music. Nathaniel runs into the classroom, cheering*

Nathaniel: Yaaaaay! *kisses Adrien and Sabrina and takes out a comic book and laughs hysterically as he rubs it all over himself and continues cheering*

Alix: See? I told you.

Rose: What's wrong with Nathaniel?

Nathaniel: Nothing, Rose?! Do you know what this is?!

Alix: A very dirty comic?

Nathaniel: No! This is my one millionth comic book bought. Every comic book nerd’s goal in life is to buy a million comics, and now I got mine!

Marinette: Wait, you’re only fifteen; how did you already buy your one millionth comic?

—

Chloé: *Her ponytail is missing* Okay, I've had enough.

Nathaniel: Chloé, you got to lighten up. *Adrien is still casting out items while he talks to Chloé* Sure the guy’s a bit overeager, but you've got to learn to roll with the punches, go with the flow. And don't bring anything on a boat that you ain't prepared to lose! *The hook in Adrien’s fishing rod touches his millionth comic* My millionth comic! *Adrien casts his comic to the water* Adrien, wait! Adrien, you hooked my millionth comic on the back swing! Reel it in before I strangle you!

*Ominous orchestral music begins playing*

Nathaniel: Oh, no. Adrien, quick, reel it in! Can't you hear the music?! That's a 4/4 string ostinato in D minor! Everyone knows that means death! Reel it in before it's too late! Hurry, Adrien, the music's getting faster!

*Adrien reels it in as fast as he can. Nathaniel opens the doors to a cabinets, revealing the live-action orchestra*

Nathaniel: There you are! *to the trumpeters* Stop playing that music! *to the conductor* Stop it, please! *to the violinists* I'm begging you!

—

Alya: So, some trip, eh?

Nathaniel: Oh, guys, you're never gonna believe it! A shark ate my millionth comic! *sobbing and flops to the ground* I lost my comic, and I'll never get it back!

Marinette: I've never seen Nathaniel so broken up.

*Nathaniel continues to bawl on the floor*

Chloé: Oh, puh-lease, he's such a drama queen.

—

Nino: We're gonna die out here just because a shark ate Nath's comic. *takes a comic book out of his backpack* Well, if he wants his comic back, I say we give it to him. Know what I mean? Huh? Huh? Huh?

Ivan: *Smirks* Oh, I get ya.

—

Akuma Class: Nath! Look what we've got!

Nathaniel: *gasps* Could it be? *takes the comic book from Nino* My millionth comic? *Starts cheering again as well as the Akuma Class* Yaaaaay! *rubs the comic on himself but he notices something strange* Wait a minute... *rubs the comic on him again* This isn't my millionth comic book! This is an ordinary comic book that's been crumpled up, torn slightly, soaked in the water, and kissed with Slate Blue #2 Semi-Gloss Lipstick!

Kim: *Wearing blue lipstick* Actually, it's Slate Blue number- *Alix whacks him on the head with a fishing rod to shut him up*

Nathaniel: I trusted you, and you gave me this?! I can't believe my own friends would betray me like this! *Sobs*

Chloé: No! No, we will not be swayed by tears anymore!

Nathaniel: *Immediately stops sobbing, then narrows his eyes* I see. Then I guess I have no choice but to offer a reward.

Juleka: You're kidding?

Rose: Is it another fishing trip?!

Nathaniel: No, it's this sandwich. *Nails a sandwich to a flagpole*

Chloé: A sandwich? You expect me to break my back over a sandwich?!

Nathaniel: Not a sandwich. *Throws the other sandwiches into the water* The sandwich.

Kim: Whatever. We've got plenty more to... *He and the others become shocked when Nathaniel throws the refrigerator into the water* ...eat.

Nathaniel: Now, I think we all understand each other! Nobody eats until I get my millionth comic book back.

Nino: Uhh, guys, can I have a word with you? *the others follow him to the other side of the boat* Have you noticed that Nathaniel has gone completely insane?!

Adrien: What do you mean?

Nino: Just look at him. *Points to Nathaniel, who is dressed like a funeral widow sobbing at a tombstone with the words "R.I.P. My Millionth Comic" on it. He then hugs it*

Adrien: Nino, he's lost something near and dear to him. Haven't you-

Alix: Look again. *Points to Nathaniel using his jacket as a jump rope while giggling like a crazy person*

Adrien: You’re right. What do we do?!

Marinette: If we're real quiet, we can sneak over to the lifeboat.

Adrien: Okay.

*They all take a step, but then start screaming as they sprint over to the lifeboat. They jump into it but then come back onto the boat tied up. Nathaniel gets out of the lifeboat*

Nathaniel: So, you thought you'd skip out on me, did you? Even after you promised to help me! I know what you're thinking. "It's just a dumb old comic. Let's just leave the stupid redhead! He won't notice!” *Cries loudly* Well, it's not going down like that. There's only one use for backstabbing friends like you!

*Later, Nathaniel is hanging several line over the boat. Marinette, Adrien, Alya, Nino, Chloé, Sabrina, Kim, Alix, Max, Juleka, Rose, Ivan, and Myléne are attached to each line*

Nathaniel: Live bait!

Chloé: You're crazy! If that shark didn't come before, what makes you think he'll come now?!

Nathaniel: *dressed up as a conductor* Ohh, he'll come. *taps the book using his baton and the doors open up to the live-action orchestra and begins to play the 4/4 string ostinato in D minor; the others writhe and scream in terror*

[shadow-the-real-me]

a note to self...

I’ve always been among the smartest people in the room. During school, being among the top rankers made me think of myself like that. This misunderstanding came to an end with my meeting with the real world. After school, moving to a new city, living with total strangers, and trying to learn life and books at the same time formed this conclusion. I was a mere dumb girl, brought up in a home built on lies, feeding on immaturity. The harsh truths of life and its living might have actually added to my intelligence and emotional quotient, making me a smart individual today. It’s true. Sometimes, however, I want to go back to being that dumb, witless girl. It wouldn’t have been bad to be that annoying, army brat they call for once. To be someone who got it all because she was raised with privileges. It wouldn't have been that bad. To say it like that, I ain’t complaining. It’s just that I would have expected an ordinary life too. Since I was a child, I’ve always wanted to do something extraordinary that’ll make my name in the world. To say that it didn’t hurt me when I had to expect myself to be ‘ordinary’ will be an understatement. It hurt like hell. It’s really fascinating how life took an unexpected turn and actually labelled it somewhat similar to ‘extraordinary’. My ‘not so ordinary’ life seems like an opportunity given by the universe that watched me cry over for hundreds of days. Probably feeling pity over a talent going to waste in tears, she handed me a pen and paper to try to write it better on my own. “It’s your life; you take responsibility for the ordinary or the extraordinary," something of the sort. A fire lit up inside when my pen started to make sense on paper. I found a way to be that ‘extraordinary’ dream I dreamt all that time when I was ‘dumb’. To the smart me, I want you to dream. Dream like you used to; take your dreams to that extraordinary level because you are smart and capable, and you can if you do. As for the dumb me, I will accomplish your dream. You were right to believe all that; even if I had lost my direction for all this while, I'd make sure to bring yours to the moon. You have been an inspiration; thank you.