#advanced dj course

[ilovemusic24]

Immerse yourself in the art of DJing with our Advanced DJ Course. Elevate your skills as you learn intricate mixing techniques, masterful track selection, and live performance strategies. From beatmatching to dynamic effects, this course empowers you to command the dancefloor with confidence. Join us and take the spotlight in the world of electronic music.

[skywalkoverme]

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝

a/n: according to my stats, you all LOVE younger Anakin x 20-30 y/o fem so here you are. Tell me if you all are tired of me writing about parties/digital fun!! it's all I can write with summer being here and all.

𐙚 Anakin Skywalker x Fem! Reader 𐙚 18+ MDNI

Summary: Anakin goes to a rave for his eighteeth birthday.

Warnings/contains: bondage, smut, p in v, Anakin loses his virginity to you, sexually experienced y/n, Anakin is 18, Y/n is 20-30, male nipple play, alcohol consumption, mention of drug use (not Anakin), sexual teasing, NOT proof read yet-- english is not my first language!

Word Count: 2.7k // More on my Master list! + follow & reblog pls

For his eighteenth birthday, Anakin snuck out. Instead of retiring to his room for the night, he hid in the bushes of the Jedi Temple courtyard; when enough time passed, Anakin drew his hood and took his Master’s landspeeder to the nearest skylane. From his pant pocket, he took out a torn page from a magazine. On the page was a messily written address. “…gi’kira…SL7…”

Anakin took a deep breath and kept the vehicle steady as excitement coursed through him. Every second was like an eternity until he reached the club. He placed his lightsaber under the front seat and covered the Jedi insignia on his ID with a blue sticker. Hopefully they’ll believe it. Anakin could feel the bass in his chest as he stood outside with other young creatures from across the galaxy; he couldn’t wait another moment; he stepped slowly to the club entrance as to not draw attention. Sure, there was a line, but it didn’t take long before he stood in front of the bouncer.

The man stared down at the boy who hid his face in the dark shadow of his hood. He grabbed Anakin’s chin and lifted it to the beam of his flashlight. Anakin’s dark pupil shrunk, and his blue eyes turned an icy white. The man glared at the photo on his card. “Alright kid.” He huffed, lowered the flashlight and gave him back his ID. “Come in. I’d ditch the cloak, it’s hot in there.”

“T- thank you.”

“Next, c’mon!”

The club pulses with electricity, a kaleidoscope of color and sound. Neon strobes slice through the thick haze—pinks, blues, and greens flicker like lightning across sweating skin and moving bodies.

People are everywhere, some packed in groups, others grind in couples, some alone—dancing, lost in the music, their faces lit by LED wristbands and the glow of blacklight paint. A mist cannon bursts over the crowd, cooling the heat rising from the mass of writhing dancers.

Anakin could smell the mix of perfumes, sweat and alcohol in the air as he took off his cloak, losing it to the crowd. At the center, the DJ looms behind a wall of decks and digital screens. A few nude creatures dance on the bar top as well as other platforms around the large club. Anakin smirked; his gaze lingered on the curves of the women. Above the center of the room, an enormous disco ball spins slowly, splintering light like shattered glass, while lasers trace wild geometric patterns in the smoke-thick air.

Although some were nude, other’s topless— Everyone else is dressed like a fever dream—fishnets, faux feathers, small shorts, glitter-smeared skin in the shape of handprints, and glowing pacifiers suckled between mouths of inebriated creatures. It’s a sensory overload for Anakin; Time starts to blur.

He was flirted with, offered sex of all kinds, most with multiple people; From people that looked his age, he was offered pill after pill, sorts of smoking devices and drinks. “N- no, thanks.” He said each time. Some lingered and others went to the next customer. He rejected another advance and picked his head up. Across the room, he spotted you. Your body was coated in a layer of shining glitter, impossible to miss. You glowed ethereally in a bright pink wig and slingshot bathing suit, held perfectly on your nipples by the will of the Force. A headpiece rest on top of it all, which he came to realize meant that you were working here. A bartender.

You stirred the drink inside the glass and slid it over on a napkin to your customer, “For you, my love.” Anakin found himself leaning against the bar, taking glances at you. “You look sober, wide-eyed, that’s why they approach you, baby boy.”

He glanced up at you and pointed to himself. “Me?”

You smiled while mixing a drink in the cocktail shaker, your curves jiggled with every rock. “Yes, you.” You squinted for a moment and spoke softly across the bar, “Are you at least eighteen? I don’t mean to knock your fun if you’re here to explore but I can’t lose my job.”

A beautiful woman, a mesmerizing creature is so plainly speaking to him! Your voice perfectly deep and your eyes are alluring. He couldn’t think. Instead, he said the first thing that came to his head, “I- It’s my birthday!” He couldn’t help but beam.

“Awww, what year are you turning tonight?”

She’ll never be interested in me if I say I’m a baby. “Twenty-one.” You excitedly cheered for him which made the people at the bar clap and whistle as well--- although most were too inebriated to realize what they were celebrating.

“You’ve got sucha’ baby face.” You touched his cheek, “Happy birthday!”

He blushed, holding his chest. “Thank you! You’re very kind.”

“Here, have a drink on me.” You made him something light. You could tell by the way he looked at the arrangements of alcohol on the wall that he didn’t know his drinks. “It’s mostly juice.” He nervously picked up the drink and took an elder-like sip. “How is it?”

“D- delicious. Did you put any alcohol in here?” He joked as he finished the drink in a few gulps.

“Want another?”

Time began to fly. Before long, he leaned across the counter, his forearms on the bar top as you rest your face on your hand. “What’s your name?”

Should I lie? No…I should stop lying. “Anakin.”

“Do you want to come home with me?” You asked as his lips gently embraced yours. His will faltered as the curves of your breasts pressed on his. Even tipsy, he felt bad for lying to you about his age! Beyond that, he couldn’t go home with you! It’s against Jedi code. Celibacy is… You held his soft blonde hair as your lips dominated his. Celibacy is the most important… Your tongue grazed the inside of his mouth to test the waters before you sucked on his bottom lip. Celibacy. It’s so important. Obi-wan said It’s important. Celibacy? Celery? Your opposite hand cuffed his neck, and he moaned into your mouth. Your kiss intensified, tongues tangled inside both of your mouths, the sound of saliva and sweet groans hidden under the sound of the pulsing beat and intelligible lyrics.

“…yes.” Master’s landspeeder. I can’t leave it. “W- we can take my-“ He dangled the keys, and you took the rattling bunch into your hand. He couldn’t lie; this past year has been hell trying to keep his cock in his pants. It seemed every second of the day, he was drowning in his own hormones; his lungs filled with breaths he couldn’t exhale. Would it really kill him? It’s just one night! His birthday!

He lie back on your soft covers as you dangled a bunch of ribbons in your hand. Your thighs straddled his hips, just nearly pressed your clothed pussy on his erection. “W- what’s that for?” Anakin was a different kind of virgin. He’d never known of sex in its entirety. Pornos? No. Masturbating? No. He couldn’t even tell you the name of what’s between your legs, let alone his.

But he had to keep up the act. “Tying you up.”

Tying me up? Why? Are men not allowed to touch women during sex? Is this a female mating ritual? “I don’t want you to get pregnant.” His heart raced as he stared in your eyes.

“What?” You tilted your head. “We aren’t fucking raw.”

“Oh ok.” What does that mean?

You laughed and began to undress him. He felt as though a magnifying glass was put to every cell on his body. His breathing sped as you ran your hands down his toned abs, leaving goosebumps in your wake. “What do you do for work again?”

“Service worker.” All his brainpower was gathered in his cock. Technically, it wasn’t a lie, but he could feel that you barely believed him. Anakin’s eyes ran down your curves, glitter scattered around the bed and on his skin in the dark room. His eyes suddenly locked with yours as you began to tie him to the headboard.

As you began to loop the tight ribbons around his ankles, a glare on your plump ass that rest on his leg. “W- so I can’t move?”

“Preferably.” He looked up at his bound wrists and quickly, his eyes were covered. You leaned deep over him, although he couldn’t see your nude body, he could feel the warm swells of your breasts on him, your hard nipples against his.

He strains against the ropes, testing the limits of his restraints, but they hold fast, keeping him pinned and helpless. The realization that he's completely at your mercy, that you can do whatever you want to his naked, exposed body, sends a shiver of excitement and arousal down his spine.

Your lips met his in a hungry embrace, your pillowy breasts like no other sensation. His cock throbbed beneath you, pre-cum leaked on his stomach and down his shaft. I don’t even know your name. Touch me; taste, lick, bite me…please me. Give me anything, I’m starved, malnourished. He groaned into the kiss, refusing to breathe as the pent-up passion flowed from every pore.

He’s never needed something, someone, more in his life. Your tongue explored his mouth as it did in the club; he tasted the sweetness off your tongue as his tongue lewdly circled yours. His hands clench into fists; something primal that lingered in him needed to feel you in his hands, this wasn’t enough. “Let me touch you…” His voice raspy and dry as he bucked his hips up needily. Never had Anakin felt so desperate, hungry; it was torture that he couldn’t see your beautiful features from this blindfold.

“No~”

His hips jumped at the feel of your sticky, and warm pussy as you grind on his shaft. “W- hmp!” He shuddered as the wet folds slide along his shaft, your juices coating his dick. Instinctively, his hips buck up to the rhythm, “W- what is that?” He bit back a moan, his voice cracked uncontrollably.

You chuckled, and figured the young man was teasing, “My pussy.” Pussy? Is that code for something?

“It feels so good…” He pants heavily as he hears the sound of a condom wrapper tearing. What was that sound? Is she eating? No…The anticipation is killing him, making his heart race and his skin prickle with excitement. His fists clench at the feel of the soft condom that slipped on his shaft. The cockhead caught on your entrance and slowly, your body sank down on his length. “A- ah!” Anakin whined at your pussy’s grip, your hands on his sides. His hands clenched as did his jaw.

“Are you ok?” You cuffed his cheek in your hand.

“Yes, I’m fine. You’re just…perfect.” Your tight walls stretched to accommodate his thick shaft. You felt him fill your insides, engulfed in the heat of your core. “Fuck.” Anakin cried out as you began to ride his cock, his head fell back into the pillow.

Scattered and breathy moans left your lips as you rode him harder, the squelch of your cunt was so disgustingly lewd, he couldn’t help but sink into the rhythm. You turn around in reverse cowgirl, your hips slammed down onto him. This new angle sent shockwaves of pressure to his core. For sure, he’d be limping tomorrow. “Don’t fucking finish.” His body went rigid and tense.

“A- ok!” His nails scratched the wooden headboard, leaving proof of your euphoric sex. Anakin pulled his right leg until the ribbons tore under his strength. He bucks his hips up to meet yours, driving his cock deeper into your perfect, fluttering cunt. “Don’t stop~” You were surprised to hear his plea seeing as how he was already pulsing, ready to cum inside the condom.

You leaned forward; your ass thrown back on him as you took his cock. He was ready to explode inside of you, but you warned him not to cum! The blindfold slipped from his eyes due to the constant movements. Your perfect ass jiggled with each of your controlled strokes. Inside of your wet folds. That’s a pussy! Upon hearing his virgin whimpers, you looked back at him and watched his helpless expression, “I- I can’t~”

Anakin can feel his own climax building, the pressure in his balls growing more and more intense with each passing second.In an instant, you pulled his cock out. “No.” Anakin could feel the pressure he was chasing leave his hot cock and sink back to his core.

“Please, don’t stop.” You pushed the blindfold off his face and straddled his hips. He watched as your head lowered to his chest; your tongue circled his pink nipple. “O- oh!” Such pleasure went straight to his balls as your warm mouth suckled on the sensitive nipple. Your fist began to stroke his cock as you flicked and kissed his other tit. Anakin whined as his climax began to rise once more.

The feel of your breasts on his abs, hand on his shaft and ministrations on his pecs were enough to make him moan like a bitch. “’Want me to finish riding you?”

Yes! “Yes.” You prowled over him, letting your pussy guide his cock inside of you again. Anakin's balls draw up tight to his body, his orgasm building to a crescendo deep in his core. He's never felt so much pleasure, so much intense, overwhelming sensations at once. It's like a tidal wave crashing over him. Anakin cries out in ecstasy as your passionate lips kissed and your tongue swirls around his nipple, the wet heat and sensation sending electric shocks straight to his throbbing cock. His back arches off the bed, pressing his chest tighter against your mouth as you suckle and lick at the sensitive nub.

You swirled your hips in circles and with a final, high-pitched moan, the young man filled the condom with his white load. His eyes fell back in his head while the tense ball of pleasure unwinds ever so slowly.

You chuckled. He faded in and out of the intense moment; he stole a glance at your glittered body, a pearly smile flashed as he gasped for breath.

Morning light began to stream into the room through the open blinds. He sat up in bed, loose ribbons around his wrists and a sheet pulled over his crotch. He felt the heat of your body as you lay over his side, your arm stretched over him. His spikey hair stuck up to the ceiling as he turned to the mirror. His tanned skin was covered in glitter in the shape of stars and octagons covered his body. He slipped out of bed discreetly and tried to get as much glitter off before dressing. He felt around for his… “Lightsaber,…shit! Where did I put it?!” You rubbed your eyes and sat up in bed. His eyes traced your nude curves as he stuttered, “Y…you. Uhm, I had a great night!” From your bedside, you tossed his ID across the bed. “Oh…” When he passed out last night, you found the card on the floor.

“Eighteen.”

“Sorry.” He gulped. “Have you seen my cloak?”

“You didn’t come here with one.”

Anakin felt his throbbing migraine and started to recall the events from early in the night. “I- I’m sorry. For lying and leaving…but I have to go!”

“Where are you-“ Before you could say anything else, the young man left the room and dashed to find his Master’s landspeeder. “Hm. Anakin…”

At the temple, Anakin discreetly walked to his room; there, Obi-wan waited in his room. He froze in the corridor, “Where were you?” A ribbon from his ankle peeks out from under his pants, glitter covered every inch of his body and littered his hair.

“At a surprise party.”

a/n: I plan to start posting my newest series later this week. I doubt many people will read this little spill but it's about if Anakin was stopped during Order 66 and you are his psychiatrist. I loveee red dividers sm!! Any excuse to use them, I jump up and down.

This fic is somewhat Inspired by "Tyrant" by Beyonce.

Interact with my Anakin master list to be tagged: (it's on a rotation, today is the last day for this one!!)

@littlestpadfoot @thescxrpio @fullclodponycop @kirbie44danielle @duck6789 @mcxdiaz @maneater97 @swiftiesimonriley @yeonjinnie @laddle @daughterofstairs @edenizzyx @eymie @xxhvzelxx @bored-as-fuck @viviennebloom @jujustarwars1 @kaaaatta-blog @javierpenaspentis @cherrylvrsworld @kellyburkesblog @decaffeinatedcrowntragedy @kaggelagge @naomiisme2 @heretonerdout @reaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @xlovingyoux @hakanaijeon @skywalkershootme @vixenhatesyou @meowmeowjang @slingggshot @cdfvgbhnjm @peachpit31 @carterc15 @smithcaityy @sisterofreverance @hellomwah @blondiebatter @aqqjjk @radiantvader @anthrais @xhino3 @valyna27 @wuxianwrld @discobronzer @melaninswift @justthingzsblog @stanyuqisworld @ppoppy-seed @fawninthesnow @sunwxoxo @santinstar

Dividers (as always) from @cursed-carmine

[nozhdyved]

hang the dj - a.d.

contains: nsfw 18+, mdni. 2.9k words, black mirror's hang the dj au, frank!art x amy!gn!reader, advanced technology, dystopian universe, groundhog day ahh dates, brief sexual content (penetration), lowkey its just a cute love story

notes: GAH holy fuck this was so fucking fun to write!!! i love this episode of black mirror and i feel like frank's character fit art really well. i loveee black mirror and i love challengers so this was incredibly fun and easy to write. it felt odd to format the ending bc i didnt know how to visualize the alternate realities so i may rewrite this. idc tho bc i love it!!

listen while you read

The ambient sound of cutlery clattering and glasses clinking surrounds Art, followed by chatter of other couples meeting and talking. 

“Coach? I’m at the right booth, yeah?” he asks his device, which glows in response.

“Yes. You are seated in Booth 16, which is where your match has also been assigned to sit.”

Art just nods a bit dumbly, sipping his wine as he waits, drumming his fingers against the table. He was early, he knew that, but he couldn’t possibly be that early-

It’s then that you walk in, and Art swears his heart stops. He doesn’t have to check with Coach, he knows that you’re who he’s supposed to meet tonight. It’s like he’s known you his whole life, memorizing the pauses you make and the smiles that you deal out like they’re candy. You’re a visionary, glowing even in the dim light of the restaurant, and you’re coming right towards him. 

You stop in front of him, holding out your Coach that’s displaying a photo of his face on it. “Hi. Art, right?”

He swallows, wetting his lips and nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s.. me,” he says, eyes glued to your every movement as you slide into the booth- the way your hair tickles the nape of your neck, how you check your nails for blemishes with a slight frown, the way you swish your glass around before sipping your wine.

“Is it your first time too?” Your voice jolts him out of his stupor, and he looks over to meet your gaze, nodding.

“Yeah. Sorta just.. gave up. My friends all have a Coach, so they got me one for my birthday…” he shrugs, nodding at you. “What about you? What’s your reason for blooming late?”

You mimic his shrug, making him laugh a bit. “I don’t know. I really don’t even think I should be here– I mean, it feels so much more real to find relationships without the help of tech, right?” There’s an awkward pause at your blunt answer, until you lean forward, sliding your Coach across the table.

“Should we check the expiry date?” you ask, raising an eyebrow with a coy smile. Art clears his throat and nods, pulling his Coach out of his pocket with fumbling hands and putting it next to yours.

“Revealing expiry date,” both of your Coaches say simultaneously. “Press down in 3…2…1.”

The two of you press the button at the same time, and the screen pixelates itself, revealing the number in bold hours.

Art coughs, pounding his chest gently. “Twelve hours, huh? That seems, uh… pretty short, no?”

You nod, furrowing your brow and taking your Coach back, slipping it into your pocket. “S’pose it is,” you muse, “but we can make the most of it, can’t we?” You beam up at him, and Art swears his heart just imploded.

“Y-Yeah. Heh, ‘course we can,” he chuckles, reaching his hand across the table to cover yours, squeezing gently. “I’ve got no qualms with that.”

The food arrives– fish smothered in sauce with greens on the side for you, and a pasta dish for Art. You wrinkle your nose, nodding gratefully at the waiter. “I hate fish,” you whisper to Art conspiratorially, who’s eyes widen. He switches your dishes despite your protest, already digging in.

“I’m an athlete, I could use the protein anyway,” he defends, looking completely serious about his need for protein, you can’t help but smile. This man… was just everything and more.

“Thanks,” you reply, and the conversation flows easy after that, talking like you’ve known each other your whole life. He correctly guesses your favorite color by just your smile, and you nail his top movie when he holds your hand. He’s like a book you’ve read a thousand times over, dog-eared and worn out, well-loved and never-ending.

When your meal ends, the cart outside is all ready to transport you to your house for the next 12 hours. It’s awkward once you get in, how the house makes it obvious that it just wants you to fuck. The countless packs of condoms in Art’s drawers speak multitudes by themself.

“Do you want to…?” you gesture to the bed and look at Art, whose face has flushed red as he looks away, shuffling his feet.

“I mean.. we should, shouldn’t we?” he murmurs, sitting down on the bed and bouncing, testing the firmness. “We’ve only got twelve hours, after all.”

You sit down next to him, taking your jacket off and tossing it aside. “We don’t have to do anything,” you remind him softly, meeting his gaze. There’s a hint of longing in his clear blue eyes as he looks back at you, lips parting to let out a quiet sigh.

“Can we just sleep?” he whispers, and you nod. The two of you get under the covers, opposite sides of the bed and not touching. After a few awkward moments of silence, he speaks up.

“This was fun, you know. Um. Goodnight.”

A soft smile graces your face as your hand travels under the sheets, tentatively interlocking with his. After a moment, he squeezes your hand gently.

“Goodnight.”

You’ve been paired with someone new this time, a big buff nobody who’s name you’ve already forgotten. He’s pistoning into you, grunting and moaning, and it does feel good, but-

Art’s smile flashes into your mind, his bright eyes and golden curls stuck behind your eyelids, his face being the only thing you can see even as this brute fucks into you.

“Oh, yeah, you like that?”  he moans into your ear, sucking a sloppy kiss onto your neck. You can imagine Art saying that, grinding into your core gently instead of pounding relentlessly, asking that question out of genuine concern, not just to fan his ego.

“Ohhh– hnnnnh, yes!” you squeal, faking everything to get an excuse to push him off of you. You squeeze your thighs together, pushing his cock out from inside you, as you turn over to the nightstand, grabbing a cup of water. “Well, that was…” awful. “exhilarating! I’m pooped,” you say, pecking the man on the cheek and setting the glass back onto the nightstand. You’re under the covers and fake snoring before he can even react.

You miss Art.

The next time you see him is at a wedding with a girl. Tall and lean, dark skinned. Most likely an athlete like him, you guess from her figure. She’s got an arm wrapped around Art’s waist, and they’re laughing together– happy, joyful, in love. You look to your side to see your current match, making small talk with the happy couple, and judging from their shocked expressions, he wasn’t saying anything good.

“Hey, you!” Art’s at your side now, his girlfriend having left to give the couple a gift. You immediately feel warmer inside, like he’s given you the gift of the sun with just his presence.

“Sorry, who are you?” you joke, making him laugh and bump your hip playfully. It’s funny because you both know the truth. You’ve never forgotten about each other, not since that first night. You nod towards his girlfriend, all long legs and radiant smiles. Fuck. “Is she your match?”

“Hm? Oh, Tashi! Yeah, yeah.. she’s not my ultimate pairing or anything, but… yeah. I mean, she’s my girlfriend for now,” he shrugs. “It ends tomorrow, so…”

You nod slowly, trying not to let the smile break free from your neutral expression. “I’m sorry,” you murmur. He shakes his head, a smile on his face.

“Don’t be. Happens to everyone.” He looks around the bustling afterparty, both Tashi and your match out of sight. “D’you wanna take a walk?”

You’re nodding before you can even process it, grabbing your bag and jumping up to your feet. “Please.”

The two of you stumble your way down to the lakeside, the peaceful scenery calming both of your jitters. You stand by the water, searching for rocks to skip as he watches you.

“Can I say something weird?” he asks, and you nod, not looking up from your scavenging. “I feel like I’ve known you forever. That you’re just an old friend that I fell out of touch with.” Art exhales heavily, shuffling alongside you.

“Is it weird if I say the same thing?” You counter, skipping the rock. It floats across the water, beating one, two, three, four times until it sinks beneath the murky blue. You turn to look at him, his eyes reflecting the sky above. “And is it weird that I really wish you could cheat on your match?”

Art laughs at that, his curls flying through the sun-soaked air. “Only if it’s weird that I’m wishing the same thing.” You find another rock to skip, tossing it– one, two, three, four, and it sinks again.

“Maybe we’ll be each other’s final pairing,” you suggest, looking up to gauge his reaction to that idea. “Would you want that?”

He looks down at you, a shy smile playing at the corners of his lips, as if he’s afraid to let his secret out. “Yeah. I want that.”

You’re not each other’s final match. You end up being matched with someone from months ago. You remember his face, hovering above yours and panting like a dog. His breath had smelled like onions.

“You are permitted one 24 hour day with a past match of your choosing,” your Coach chimes cheerily when you climb out of the pool, practice laps completed. “Who would you like t-?”

“Art,” you hurry to say, drying your hands off with your towel and pushing out of the pool. “Art, I choose Art. Please.” You’re desperate, saying his name like it’s a prayer, like if you say it three times he’ll appear.

There’s a whirring noise from your Coach, before a happy ping! can be heard. 

“You have selected: Art Donaldson as your final meeting. Please meet at Booth 16 at 8 o’clock PM.”

You sigh, sitting down at the edge of the pool and letting your feet dangle into the water, making small ripples appear. “Coach, can you count to four?”

Your Coach glows, and you pick it up, readying your aim and throwing. The blue light from the Coach shimmers along the glimmering blue of the pool as it begins speaking.

“One,” skip, “two,” skip, “three,” skip, “four,” sink.

You watch as your Coach’s light fades out, robotic voice glitching as it sank on the fourth skip, like always.

He’s early again. Sitting at your table with a nervous smile on his face, as if he’s still worried about impressing you.

You sit down next to him in the booth and immediately kiss him– you’ve learned your lesson, and you’re not going to lose any more time than you already have. You kiss like you’re starved, your tongue slipping past his plush lips to meet his, cupping his jaw and leaning close to him. You’ve never kissed him before, but something about it feels… familiar. Like this is the millionth kiss you’ve shared already.

You pull away, eyes raking over his flushed face and parted lips. “...Hey,” you whisper, tracing your thumb over his cheek gently.

He swallows thickly, a shy smile spreading across his face. “Hi,” he replies, his voice equally quiet, reverent like you just gave him everything he’s ever asked for.

The food comes, fish and pasta, and you switch dishes again, like it’s a habit you’ve drilled into your body. Your conversation flows as easily as the wine pouring into your glasses, and soft kisses accompany every word. It’s perfect.

The house you two stay at for the night is the same one as your first date, and it feels like home to you. The feeling of his arms around you as you stumble to the bed makes your chest warm, even as he slips your jacket off your shoulders. The way you two collapse onto the bed, kissing every inch of skin feels practiced, like a ritual. Like this isn’t the first time.

Every thrust and moan comes out naturally, as if this was meant to be. Like you two were made for each other. His sweaty curls dangling in front of your face, soft breaths escaping his lips as his thrusts increase in speed, his large hands roaming over your body lovingly.

“You’re so– goddamn gorgeous,” he whispers, kissing you softly to silence your moans. You don’t need to say anything back, your orgasm consisting of pure ecstasy and filth, back arching and hips pressing against his.

It feels like the thousandth time you two have made love– not fucked, for that would have less feelings involved. You two were in love. The two of you lay side by side in bed, hands intertwined like your first time sleeping here. It’s safe and practiced, his fingers pressing against your skin gently, grounding you.

“I feel like we’ve done this before,” you whisper to him, voice worn out. “I think… I mean, you knew me too well for that to be our first.” He presses a finger to a mark left on your neck, right where you’re especially sensitive. He knows that, somehow.

“I’d remember you,” he whispers back, voice low and gravelly as his finger swipes over your skin, gentle and loving, like he’s memorizing the softness of your supple skin.

You prop yourself up on an elbow, facing him. “Art, really. Think about it,” you murmur, your eyes dark and serious. “This feels right. It’s like… shit, it’s cheesy, but we’re like two puzzle pieces.”

His eyes soften and he nods in agreement, his hand dropping from your neck. “I know,” he replies, unsure of where you’re going with this.

“I can’t remember anything before our first date,” you continue. “Not– getting ready, or driving to the restaurant. It was like I just spawned in there, ready to meet you.”

Art furrows his brow, the gears in his brain turning as you keep speaking. “...Yeah. Like I just happened to… appear in that booth.” He cocks his head, glancing over at you. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

You’re out of bed already, putting your clothes on haphazardly. “Do you have your Coach with you?” you ask, and he nods, getting up as well and pulling it out of his jeans pocket.

You take the small device and hold it in your palm. It’s cool, the metal clashing against the heat of your body. It’s so small, the size of a cookie, yet it held so much power over you. Over everyone. You storm over to the window and crack it open, smashing the Coach against the windowsill before tossing it out. You turn to Art, who looks shocked, but not unsurprised. Like this isn’t the first time this has happened.

“Let’s go on a walk.”

You’re tripping over your feet in the darkness of the night, giggling as he catches you and presses a quick kiss to your cheek. “For safety,” he insists solemnly.

You’re walking to the border of town, your reasoning being that there was something greater past the borders, outside of the world you’d grown up in. Supposedly. Though Art looked like he doubted you, he followed along obediently anyway, as if he’s had it programmed into his body that you know the way.

It’s a struggling trek, dirt and dust flying into your eyes as the night goes on, storms passing overhead and wind blowing against you, as if trying to reason with you to not leave. It doesn’t deter you, only gripping Art’s hand tighter as you forge ahead, turning around occasionally to check if he’s still there. You don’t want to lose him, not again.

You reach the large wall that borders around your town, a flimsy ladder leaning up against it, like they want you to escape. You go first, moving your hands and feet slowly until you get the hang of things, looking back to make sure Art’s climbing up behind you. And he is, like a determined puppy, gritting his jaw as sweat drips down his temple.

The two of you reach the top of the wall, Art grabbing you by the waist to steady you. His eyes gleam beneath the stars, meeting yours. “What do we do now?” he whispers, his voice hard to hear in the whipping wind.

You look out, past the town, past the wall. It’s all inky blackness and shimmering stars, a future unknown past the wall you’ve lived within all your life. There’s a sense of excitement, pounding in your chest as you take a step, loosening your grip on Art’s arm.

“Now… we’ll see each other later.” You say it with a sense of finality, turning to face the sky as you bend your knees and jump, letting yourself fall into the endless darkness. 

You land. Eventually, you do, in a bar, loud and noisy. You’re not sure when it happens, when you stopped falling, but you’re grateful to find respite, even if it’s in a shitty bar. It’s raucous, the air smelling of tobacco and sweat, yet it feels so much more comfortable than the bars back home– all refined and quiet, no music or chatter, just fancy cocktails that were 10 dollars a glass. Here it’s dirty and overwhelming, but in a good way. You can’t help but smile.

Something familiar starts playing from the jukebox– Panic by The Smiths. As the song starts playing, your eyes lock with a familiar face from across the room, innocent blonde curls and a leather greaser jacket, hunched over the bar. He looks back at you and grins knowingly.

Your heart flutters like you’ve known him your whole life, and you get up from your seat, approaching him and stopping right across from him. Your lips part and words come out before you can even process them.

“Hey, you.”

taglist: @girliism, @imperishablereverie, @faiztsheap, @musingsofheaven, @yardofbrunettes, @fwaist

[lalalychee-x]

"Birthday girl — party 4 u" Rodrick x reader angst!

“I only threw this party for you Only threw this party for you, for you, for you I was hopin' you would come through...” “One thousand pink balloons Dj with your favorite tunes...” “All I'm thinking, all I know is That I hope you knock on my door, Nervous energy My heart rate rises higher, higher up I wish you'd get here, kiss my face Instead you're somewhere far away...”

Anon request from here (it would be cool if you have some feedback, anon! ilysm mwa)! Reader is Heather's best friend; Rodrick and Heather are dating beause he's stupid and follows her around like a lost puppy. Even at your own birthday party, even as you sit lounging in your own pool, absolutely fuming.

It’s your birthday. But not just any birthday — it’s your birthday. The kind that usually gets booked months in advance at a rooftop lounge or beachside club, with glittery invites and ice sculptures and those awful, too-small cakes from boutique bakeries that look better on camera than they taste.

But this year? You kept it at home. Backyard pool, soft blue lights draped in canopies, your mom's old stereo blasting throwbacks. Your friends don’t get it, not really — not when you could’ve gone big like Heather did. But you didn’t want big. You wanted... him.

Rodrick.

Your mistake was telling Heather that. The two of you have always been a bit toxic — partners in crime, teeth bared under pink gloss smiles. But where you bit, Heather devoured. And she decided she wanted a taste of him too.

You learned quick it was never about liking Rodrick. Not for Heather. She just liked how easy he was to bait — a clumsy, wide-eyed stray who followed the bone she dangled in front of him, even when she was snapping it in half right after. And the worst part? He chased her like she was worth something.

You hated him for it. You hated yourself for watching it.

Now you're at your party, waist-deep in the water, drink sweating in your hand as you lean back against the cool tiles of your pool. The music’s pulsing, flashing in between choruses, your friends’ laughter echoing off the walls like it’s anyone’s night but yours. And then you hear it. That sharp, shrill cackle that cuts through everything.

Heather.

You tilt your head and there he is. Rodrick. Dripping wet. Sprawled half-dazed in a kiddie floatie he clearly didn’t try to get into willingly, with soda splashed down his shirt and some gross glitter lipgloss smeared on his cheek like a joke.

Heather and the other girls are laughing like it’s the goddamn Oscars.

Your grip tightens around your cup.

Because you saw it. You saw her fake trip into him, saw her whisper something to her friends before pushing the stupid float into his arms. Saw him just take it. Again.

And you hate the way he’s blinking through it all like maybe, maybe this time she’ll kiss him for real.

You lower your cup and shut your eyes for a second.

You threw this party for him. Your birthday. Your pool. Your playlist. Your drink recipes, damn near themed for his shitty band’s favorite albums. All because he liked pool nights. All because you were stupid enough to think maybe, if Heather wasn’t looking, he’d look at you.

But he’s never not looking at her.

You bite your tongue so hard it hurts.

And then, like clockwork, he’s wiping his face, dragging himself out of the shallow end like a sad, wet cat, and heading — right toward you.

“Yo,” Rodrick says, a little sheepish, hair plastered to his forehead, soda fizz still clinging to his sleeves. “These drinks? Kinda sick. What’s in the pink one—?”

You don’t let him finish. You just stare at him, that bitter knot in your throat tightening. He doesn’t get it. Of course he doesn’t. He never does.

“Is it vodka or, like, that pink lemonade crap from Trader Joe’s?” Rodrick keeps going, oblivious. He’s wringing out his shirt with one hand, licking soda off the corner of his mouth like that’s the most urgent thing in the world. “’Cause I swear I tasted both. Kinda fire. Wait—did you put something spicy in it? Like jalapeño or some shit? I saw that on some magazine—”

You don’t even look at him.

“Cool,” you say flatly, eyes still locked on the other end of the pool where Heather is doubled over in her bikini, laughing like she just won prom queen.

Rodrick laughs a little too. “Yeah, they thought it was funny, I guess. The floatie thing. I mean, whatever. Wasn’t that bad.”

“Mhm.”

“I got soda in my ear though. Like, in my ear. That ever happen to you? It’s like fizzy in my brain now—”

“Rodrick.”

He stops, eyes flicking to yours. You’re still not really looking at him — not properly. Just staring dead ahead, voice flat, body still half-draped in water, your fingers white-knuckling the rim of your glass.

“What?”

“Shut up.”

There’s a beat of silence. Just the bass line of the music thudding through the pool speakers and the distant shriek of someone doing a cannonball.

He laughs again, awkward this time. “Damn, okay. Someone’s moody tonight.”

You turn your head, slow.

He’s grinning like he didn’t just embarrass himself in front of half your graduating class. Like he didn’t make you want to scream every time he showed up looking hopeful, bruised and sticky and fucking blind.

And you don’t mean to snap.

But it bubbles up, spills over, drowns you.

“You’re so fucking annoying!”

It’s not loud at first. It’s sharp. Piercing. And for a second, it cuts straight through the static of the party. Rodrick reels back like you slapped him, blinking hard.

“What the hell?” he mutters, looking around, suddenly self-conscious.

People are watching now. A few heads turning from the drink table, some giggles quieting by the pool. A full-body flush crawls up your throat, but you don’t care. Not enough. Someone’s nudging Heather. The birthday party has screeched to a standstill, everyone watching the meltdown with wide eyes and shallow breaths, pool lights casting ripples over your soaked legs, your flushed cheeks.

You’re already moving, pushing off the edge of the pool, sloshing water as you storm toward the steps. You push out of the water, the drink in your hand forgotten as it splashes somewhere near the edge. Your hair’s clinging to your shoulders, the bottom of your sheer cover-up dripping down your thighs, but you don't care. You’re fuming and it hurts even more to know you don't even have to right to be.

You wipe at your face with a wet hand, mascara already trailing down your cheekbones, and huff a broken breath.

You storm through the crowd soaked, barefoot, and trembling — half from the cold water clinging to your thighs, half from rage that burns so deep it tastes metallic in your throat.

Everywhere is people.

Shoulders brush you, bodies press close in the narrow hallway as some junior you don’t even know screams-laughs about how she “totally got with that one lacrosse guy”. Someone knocks into your arm and doesn’t apologize. Another spills half their beer down the front of your cover-up.

No one notices it’s you. The birthday girl.

The house is packed — kids climbing over furniture, slumped in clumps on the stairs, smoke trailing from the open den, laughter spilling from bathrooms where they’re doing lines off your mom’s makeup counter. The party doesn't stop for you. It never does. You could vanish and they’d still go on, drunk off your dad’s liquor, high off your name.

Because it was never about you, was it?

You shoulder past a couple making out in your doorway and slam the door behind you, the bass muffled immediately.

You don’t even bother with a towel.

Your wet feet slap against the tile, against the hardwood, your body soaked and shaking, your hair a dripping mess down your back as you push through the crowd. Someone’s shoulder clips yours. Someone else drunkenly cheers your name like it’s part of a game.

No one really notices. Or if they do, they don’t care.

The birthday girl vanishing through her own house like a ghost? Not a headline when Heather’s holding court at the poolside with tequila shots and that skin-tight bikini. Not when the music’s thudding hard enough to rattle the walls and someone’s just plugged in a disco light in your living room.

Because this party was never really about you.

It was about the invite list. The photos. The way Heather could say she hosted your birthday without having to clean up after it.

You shove past a group crowding the hallway, wet arm smearing your own makeup on the doorframe as you make a sharp turn toward the stairs.

They part for you barely — a few slow looks, one guy mumbling something about you being “kinda dramatic,” but you don’t stop. You can’t. You take the stairs two at a time, chest tight and throat hot, mascara bleeding in rivers down your cheeks.

Your bedroom’s dark when you slam the door behind you.

Muted laughter still filters through the floorboards. You ignore it. Stumble into your ensuite bathroom, flick the light on, brace both hands against the counter.

Your reflection stares back at you — smeared lipstick, tangled hair, eyes blown out with too much everything. You drag a hand down your face, furious at the tears that won’t stop falling. The sink runs. The water’s ice cold.

Inside, it’s quiet and you like it. Your room and bathroom are untouched by the chaos outside — makeup still lined up along your dresser, along the sink, pink birthday balloons bobbing gently from your headboard. You dim the lights of your en-suite, fingers already tugging at the straps of your swimsuit. You're halfway to unraveling the stupid decorative braids Heather made you sit still for when you finally look up — eyes ringed in black from the run of your mascara, mouth trembling because you're far away from Rodrick and that's what matters right now.

But Rodrick’s still in the pool when people go back to laughing. Initially, anyway.

Someone tosses a float. Someone cranks the music louder. Someone else asks if there’s more beer, and just like that — it’s like nothing ever happened. Like the birthday girl didn’t just scream at him in the middle of her own party.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, still tasting soda and chlorine. His brow furrows.

“Wait,” he mutters under his breath, “what just happened?”

There’s a ripple of laughter a few feet away — not cruel, just amused — and it makes something prickle hot under his skin. He looks at the trail of wet footprints she left behind and suddenly he’s moving, scrambling out of the pool with a loud slap of bare feet on concrete.

He grabs his shirt, doesn’t bother wringing it out this time, just yanks it on half-soaked and starts wading through the mob of people like a lost puppy. Every hallway’s a blur of bodies and red solo cups and cigarette smoke, and for a second he’s not even sure where he’s going — until he remembers the layout from the one time he came over to pick up Heather for a party.

Upstairs. Left. Second door.

He takes the steps two at a time, breath caught somewhere in his throat. Her room’s closed. He hesitates, knocks once — soft, unsure — then pushes it open.

Empty.

His brows knit as he steps in, blinking. Then the soft click of a faucet behind the bathroom door draws him forward, and he inches closer, leaning just enough to peer through the open frame—

You scrub at your face again, smudging mascara in frustrated, angry swipes. Black streaks stain the towel you yank off the rack, and your breath hitches in short, shaky pulls as you press it to your eyes.

You hear the door creak open behind you.

Then his voice. Hesitant. Wet footprints on tile.

“...Yo?”

Your eyes flick up to the mirror and there he is. Rodrick. Damp hair a mess over his forehead, his soaked shirt clinging to his ribs, looking around like he’s half-expecting Heather to pop out and laugh in his face again.

You blink once. Breathe in deep.

Then flatly say, “Get out.”

He scoffs, genuinely offended, “Why?”

You don’t turn. Just grip the edge of the counter tighter, knuckles pale against porcelain. Your voice is low, almost calm — but there’s an unmistakable edge to it. Like the simmer before a boil.

“What are you doing here?”

Rodrick shrugs, throwing his hands out, water still dripping from his sleeves. “You just screeched like a freaking banshee at me in front of everyone, what do you mean what am I doing here?”

You lift your eyes to the mirror again. Your reflection looks so messed up it almost makes you laugh — runny mascara, eyes puffy, hair undone from the pretty braids you sat still for. You look like a drowned, humiliated brat.

So you snap.

“Well, Heather treats you like shit in front of everyone. Which would you rather?”

Rodrick blinks. Like that stunned blink of a dumb boy who’s never considered something until it’s hurled in his face. He doesn’t answer. Just stands there, jaw working like maybe he’s trying to come up with a quip, a joke, anything to deflect.

You keep going. Voice rising.

“I’m so tired of it. Of watching her yank you around like a little fucking joke, like she’s bored and you’re just the new shiny thing she can throw in front of people and laugh at. I’m tired of seeing you go along with it. You fall on your face and she laughs and you still chase her like a dog—” your breath cracks, “and it’s pathetic, Rodrick. And it’s sad. Because you’re not that stupid. You see it.”

You finally turn then, hand flinging toward him like you’re gesturing at a ghost only you can see. Your voice splinters somewhere between fury and ache. “And you still fucking let her!”

Tears well up now, uninvited, hot and blurring your vision. “You let her make fun of you. Humiliate you. Hurt you. And you just... take it. And I have to watch it. Every goddamn time—”

You cut yourself off with a ragged breath, wiping at your eyes even though it’s useless.

Rodrick is still frozen in the doorway. His mouth’s parted, brow furrowed like it physically hurts him to hear any of this. His shoulders sag just slightly, expression finally cracking from dumbfounded to... remorseful.

But he doesn’t say anything and neither do you, for a moment.

It hurts more because you were the one who would sneak off everytime Heather fucked him over, to check up on him, toddling over in shoes too sparkly and big for you— coming over with an icepack when Heather made him bash his lip against the edge of the rollerskating rink.

It hurts more because you were the one that would nudge him and ask him about whatever shitty music tape he was holding when no one at the table was paying attention to him.

It hurts more because you know you have no right to like him in the way you do.

You’re trembling by the time you spit out the last sentence, chest rising and falling like you just ran the length of the street. You’re too exhausted to shout anymore, too choked up to keep the edge in your voice. The silence afterward stretches thick between you both — breathless, muggy, fluorescent. The soft buzz of the bathroom lights is suddenly the loudest thing in the world.

And Rodrick’s just staring.

All wide-eyed and stupid. Like your tears, your voice cracking, your fists clenched so tight your nail beds ache — none of it even registered until just now. You like-liked him?.

He blinks once. Then again.

“Oh... shit.”

And you laugh. One sharp, dry breath out of your nose. Bitter.

That’s all he has to say?

It’s so him you want to hit something. Want to scream in his face again. Instead, you just shove past him, shoulder catching his collarbone, movement so fluid it could almost look staged — like you’ve had practice pushing through the people who disappoint you.

“Forget it,” you mutter, voice low, throat still thick. “Forget I said anything.”

He doesn’t stop you.

Of course he doesn’t.

You stomp barefoot down the hallway, a mess of half-dried limbs and smeared lip gloss, towel clutched tight to your chest, your hair twisted into some uneven, makeshift updo like muscle memory — like you’re too used to holding yourself together after falling apart. You disappear down the stairs again. Back into the party. Back into the noise.

Rodrick watches the door frame long after you're gone. Still dripping. Still dumb. Still trying to figure out how the hell he got here.

And the worst part? Somewhere deep down, even he knows it’s not all on you.

You could’ve said something sooner — sure. But he could’ve seen it sooner too. Seen the way Heather weaponised him for fun, the way you looked at him when no one else did. All those times you snuck over, pretending it was just coincidence — the bandaids, the icepacks, the split-lip awkward jokes. The way your hand would shake a little when it brushed his. The way he pretended not to notice because it was easier to chase someone who never wanted him than to sit in the possibility of being wanted back.

You were both cowards.

And now you're both wrecked.

The music downstairs surges again — someone’s turned up the bass. Someone’s splashing in the pool. Laughter climbs and falls and no one notices the birthday girl’s vanished for good.

Rodrick stands alone in your bathroom, mascara smudges on the sink, towel fallen on the floor.

Somewhere, the music downstairs is picking up again. People laughing. Like nothing happened.

Like the party wasn’t ever about you. Like you didn’t just bleed the truth into a bathroom mirror and leave it there with the boy too stupid to see you, but you were too bitchy to ever let him in.

And all he can do is whisper a useless, too-late, “...shit.”

♡ Please do not modify, steal, plagarise or post on other platforms without asking. Thank you!

divider creds: @anitalenia

[tihgnari]

ꕤ 53. keep things lowkey (ღ)

tw: none / wc: 1.3k

only when ayato reached across the limousine's rear cup holder to interlace his fingers with yours did you realize you've been practicing yet again a bad habit of yours — your nervousness manifesting by how you pick at your nails.

ayato chuckles, glancing at you. "love, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. i'll be there with you at all times, i promise — i just hope you don't get bored over business talk, if you do, well… i'd like to apologize in advance."

"it's just…" you mutter under your breath, looking out the window. "other than this is going to be my first gala, you're this important person, and i'm just nervous i might do something to embarrass you."

he squeezes your hand, urging you to look at him. "are you kidding? you? embarrass me? have you met yourself?"

you laugh, blushing at the eye contact. crazy how he can still erupt such butterflies in your stomach when a year has already passed of being together. you knew what you were getting yourself into, so ayato finally breaking the news to the public weeks ago was something that didn't faze you at all. however, today's the day you see if you'll truly fit into his world.

you bring his hand to your lips.

"just afraid of not fitting in."

the light turns green, and the car makes its final left turn and you immediately see the backs of the paparazzi grouped before a red carpet, in front of the monumental architecture of today's venue, leeum museum of art. you already imagine yourself standing before them, the flash of the cameras burning your retinas as you stand with your arm looped around ayato's.

this is it. this is the life you accepted when ayato finally asked you to become his. while he offered that you need not make appearances if it doesn't suit your comfort, you disagreed and said you were willing to go through the criticizing eyes of the public if it meant you can show up for him loudly and proudly.

but of course… first day jitters are a thing.

ayato pulls up but before he opens the doors, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead.

"just be yourself, my love. i love you because of who you are and i am every bit confident they will love you just the same. if there's some who thinks otherwise, well…" he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, smiling his sweetest smile. "you memorize their face, what they're wearing, and you tell me. no one disrespects you in my gala."

—

the night was running smoothly thus far, exchanging numerous handshakes with business owners who approached ayato. when some do not, you notice the way ayato's brow would raise before introducing you properly as his lover, only then did their eyes land on you and promptly offer a handshake, muttering a few apologies for not noticing you.

your boyfriend huffs, as you fix his tie in the side, eyeing the last man who initially didn't bother to greet you. "where are the manners of some of these people? they should know how to address a lady when they see one."

"my love, please… let it go, it's okay he still greeted me anyway!"

"only because i introduced you," he shakes his hand. "you are not some eye candy dangling off my arm! they can't ignore you. you deserve to be addressed just as properly as they address me."

you click your tongue playfully, cupping his face and softly urging him to look at you. his hardened gaze softens when he meets your eyes. for a moment, you don't say anything, and you visibly see the tension ease off his shoulders. he turns his head to nose at the palm of your hand, offering a light kiss.

"okay, i'm calm."

"thank you."

the dj increases the volume of the music just as she changed it from light house music to a more romantic one, perfect for a dance. the lights dimmed, people standing to the side as a circle forms, men and women alike already asking their wives or lovers to dance.

ayato steps back with a flare before bowing to you, offering his hand. "my lady, would you be so kind as to allow this lowly gentleman to grace the dance floor with you?"

you laugh, before casually starting to play along. "but of course, i shall dance with thee!"

he pulls you along, his hand tucked in the small of your back as you slow dance and suddenly it's just the two of you in an empty museum. "so…" he trails, a hint of a contented smile on his. "how was your first gala, my love?"

"well… i guess it was everything that i expected?" you laugh. "the crowd, the business talk, champagne… now i'm feeling kinda stupid i was nervous to begin with, everyone has been nothing but lovely."

ayato pulls you closer, burying his nose in your hair. "well, i am a good judge of character — minus the few who initially ignored you when they spoke to me," you pulled away, narrowing your eyes at him as he laughed and shook his head, moving on quickly. "okaaaay, i was just kidding… maybe. but i'm glad everything went smoothly, my love."

a moment of silence dawns on you both as you find a comfortable nook on his neck, him resting his cheek against your hair as he secures his hold around your waist, feeling so comfortable and at peace in each other's arms as you both sway to the music.

"can't believe we've come this far," he mutters. "who would've thought the girl drinking gin at kappa sig is the one for me."

"wait a minute," you pull away, looking at him with eyes wide in shock. "you knew it was me?"

"of course, i'm not the type to forget things when i get drunk," he laughs, amused by the face you're making. "i was a little hurt when you pretended not to recognize me at my apartment, but i gave it some thought and realized how the hell we would've explained to ayaka how we met? so i just went with it."

you shrug, burying your face in his neck in shame. "this is embarrassing, i thought you didn't know it was me — ugh, what the hell — i'm sorry i said all those stuff before pressuring you to kiss me —"

you feel the vibrations in his shoulders. "love, what? you didn't kiss me."

your shame hits the pause button and you look up at him questioningly. "what? we didn't kiss?"

"no, of course not! you were drunk, you wouldn't be in the right state of mind to give your consent… even though you told me i didn't look like i was 'kamisato material' and assuming that i was a bad kisser…"

"don't even —!"

he laughs, loud enough that a few couples dancing turned their heads and you hit his shoulder. when his laugh mellows and he looks at you, he mutters. "you know, i wouldn't change a thing in our storyline. sure, we hit rock bottom a few times, but it's our story."

you don't know why when you look him in the eyes, it feels like seeing him for the first time — free of any restraints from third parties asking you both not to be together.

you crack a small smile. "i'm not proud of the things i did to you but i am beyond thankful that even then, even after everything — we're here, together. makes me think 'maybe we were meant to be' you know?"

"i think so, too." ayato mirrors your smile. "i'm glad you don't have to keep your feelings all… lowkey, anymore. i see how loudly you love me, and it's all i ever wanted."

you laugh, sneaking a kiss on his lips.

"never wanted to keep things lowkey, anyway."

LOWKEY » previous : masterlist

a kamisato ayato social media au

summary — it was only recently you found out kamisato ayaka was, in fact, not an only child after all! seeing ayato for the first time gave you the severest case of the butterflies but according to ayaka, he’s off limits, especially to you as her most treasured friend. well, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt, right?

note — aaaand thats a wrap! if you made it this far, ur an awesome hooman being hehe thank you so much for reading! <3

[springismss]

hi! do you think i could get a reconciling story between afab reader and present mic meeting as adults. they dated briefly in ua but broke up on semi-bad terms (his grief after oboro’s death took a toll on their relationship) but they never really stopped loving each other even after they graduated and she moved away for uni (featuring post makeup sex lol)

ᱬ⛧ i miss you ~ present mic

pairing: present mic x afab ex! reader

content: 18+ mdni. drinking, club environment, not quite drunk yamada, cunnilingus, implied multiple orgasms, p in v, reader gets called princess/good girl/sweetheart, implied multiple rounds, general NSFW content.

word count: 1.8k

links: request materlist | bnha/mha masterlist | masterlist

a/n: thanks so much for the request anon! i'm not going to lie, i've never written for mic before, so i apologise in advance if this isn't as good as my other works (i'm not a mic girl 🫣). fingers crossed this is what you wanted, sorry it took a little longer than i'd like to get out but i hope you enjoy! as always likes, comments and re-blogs are deeply appreciated!

The heavy bass thumped through the room, bodies huddled together in a variety of different dance moves. Lights flickered and moved, adding to the atmosphere around.

Resting against the bar, you held a glass in your hand as you scanned the room, a contented smile tugging at your lips. It was another night since you finished your set, another night where you spent time watching the next DJ.

Shuffling could be heard beside you, something not out of the ordinary, so you paid no attention to it, figuring it to be one of the clubgoers. That was until you heard his voice as clear as day.

A voice you thought you had long forgotten about.

Casting your gaze to the side, your breath hitched as your grip tightened on the glass. "Hizashi?". The name slipped easily past your lips like it did a lifetime ago.

At the sound of their name, the person froze slightly, taking a moment before turning their head to face you. Those eyes you'd forced yourself to forget stared back at you. "Is that you, little note?". Humming out, you nodded your head and smiled, fighting back the hurt feeling you felt stirring deep in your gut.

Years prior, both of you had attended U.A. High, forming not only a close friendship but a loving relationship. You were practically inseparable at the best of times.

Whenever Aizawa or Oboro wanted to find him, they only needed to look for you. Wherever you were, there he was always glued to your side. A relationship that seemed to defy the odds.

Then came the death of Oboro. Of course, you took it hard; you had grown quite attached to the energetic boy. But no one took it as badly as Aizawa and Yamada. Their close friend was taken too early while out on his Hero Work-Studies.

The pair of you grew distant, not wanting to be around the other while you came to terms with what had happened. The strain beginning to show the cracks in your already doomed relationship.

Snappy words and harsh comments caused you both to call it an end, a sour taste left in your mouths. "How dare you say I haven't been there for you, Hazashi? I've tired my damn hardest and you keep pushing me away. I can't do this anymore!".

No sooner had the words left your mouth, he broke it off with you. He said he didn't want the constant nagging, and you were becoming overbearing. Yamada walked away that day as you screamed at him to come, to face you properly, hurt clear in your voice.

Once you had finally graduated from U.A, you made the choice to leave. Leave the city and move away to where no one knew you. Starting a fresh once you set foot through the doors of the university you'd been accepted into.

While you welcomed the change, a chance to finally be someone you always wanted to be, you couldn't deny the fact that you missed your old life. The people you grew up with and the memories you'd made.

Most of all, part of you still missed Yamada. Sure, you two may have ended things on bad terms, but he was still a part of your life. Part of you still craved him, to have him tell you everything was alright while you were cuddled up in his arms.

He made you feel safe. Like everything wrong with the world was suddenly alright.

Bringing the glass back up to your lips, you took a sip while blinking back the tears. The memories still painful at best. "So what brings you here then?". Letting the glass fall from your lips, you let the liquid run down your throat, trying to give yourself more time to calm yourself. "Me? Oh, I've just finished my set, wanted to stay and watch the others".

Casting your gaze to the side, you saw him nodding his head. An awkward silence fell between you both as neither of you dared talk. A silence that was soon broken when Yamada spoke. "Why don't we go and sit down? I've got a lot of apologising to do".

Slipping into the booth, you placed your glass on the table, foot tapping on the floor while you waited for what he had to say. "I'm sorry, little note. I was a fucking idiot and I shouldn't have taken it out on you".

Closing your eyes, you sucked in a breath, taking a moment to calm yourself. "Hizashi, you broke my heart. You neglected me and made me suffer. I get it, you lost your friend, but I was your girlfriend. I was hurting too, I needed you....".

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you steadied yourself, heart beating erratically in your chest. "...I fucking needed you. You weren't the only one who was torn apart by what happened to Oboro".

"I know, I was selfish. You took it just as hard as me and Shota. You were there for both of us while you were grieving yourself, and I couldn't even be there for you...". You heard him pause, calming himself as his voice cracked.

"...I called you overbearing and said you were nagging too much. I realised not long after that you weren't. You were trying to do what any amazing girlfriend would do, making sure her boyfriend had all the support he needed. And I fucked that up by letting you go, I'm sorry".

Sniffling, you blew out a breath, tears pricking at your eyes as you looked at him. All the heartbreak and pain you felt melted away when you caught his eyes, stray tears slipping down his cheeks as he looked at you.

He looked just as broken as he did that day, the day that made you hate being at U.A. Reaching your hand forward, you placed your fingers to his cheek and wiped away the droplets, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Only took you this long to admit your were a fucking idiot, Hizashi".

From that point on, the conversation flowed as easily as it ever did. Heart to hearts finally out in the open, and a friendship reconciled.

Bodies soon shifted from the club, and the numbers dwindled until only a few remained. Letting out a small laugh, you stood up and grabbed hold of Yamada as you helped him stand. The male was a little too tipsy, even for your liking. "Come on, let's get you back to mine. You can stay the night and pull yourself together".

The sound of the door clicking shut sounded as you placed your keys to the side, peeling off your jacket and shoes with a sigh of relief. Turning around, you stepped forward towards the man you brought back, lips parted to speak.

Only the words never left your mouth. It all happened too fast, in a blur of colours, you found yourself pulled into a body, arms wrapping around you as lips crashed onto yours. Your breath caught in your lungs as you felt yourself slowly losing any restraint you had, tongues seemingly dancing together.

Breaking the kiss, you panted softly, cheeks flushed as you looked up. Gripping hold of Yamada's top, you tugged him with you as you stepped back. "Let's go somewhere more comfortable".

Clothes lay scattered across the floor as whimpers echoed around the room. Arching your back, you covered your mouth with your hand while the other was tangled in blonde hair. "Hah, Hiza, feels so good".

Letting out another whine, you moved your hand from your mouth, running it down your neck until you reached your chest. Closing your eyes, you placed your hand on your breast and began to roll the palm across your nipple. The feeling causing you to arch your back more. "So needy".

Open your eyes, you looked down and smiled before chewing on your bottom lip. You could feel yourself slowly losing it, nearly on the cusp of that beautiful euphoria that would zap through your body. "Please, please".

"All in good time, princess". The way his voice had dropped caused you to shiver, lips parting to speak again before you moaned out, the feeling of being stretched taking you by surprise. Slender fingers tapping against that spongy spot deep inside. "Come on, sweetheart, let go for me".

The bubbling feeling kept building in your gut until it overflowed. A strangled cry passed your lips as you felt your walls tighten around the fingers nestled deep inside. "Such a good girl, now, let's turn that volume up, shall we?".

Body pressed closer together, the feeling of the mushroom head of Yamada's cock pressing against your cunt, prodding slowly for a few seconds before he pushed his hips forward. The beautiful stretch of your pussy walls a welcoming feeling to you both. "Fuck, baby, you take my cock so well".

So began a dance to an invisible beat, fingers intertwined together as hips thrusted. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you pulled his body closer to yours. Normally, you would have taken your time, gone through the motions, but right now, you were more than happy to just have him buried deep inside.

Movements were sloppy, kisses were rushed, but you didn't care. Neither of you did as you found your body in a different position. Hands gripping your hips as you let your hands fall onto Yamada's chest, steadying yourself as you began to bounce. Moving in a steady rhythm that had that pleasure slowly build up deep in your gut.

"I know you're close, little note. Fall apart for me". The feeling of thrusts matching yours made your head fall back, moans of desperation passing your lips. The way the head of his cock was thumping against that spongy spot made your body heat up, teetering on the edge, ready to fall to your pleasure at any moment.

"Hah, Hiza, fuck, need all of you". Letting your head fall forward, you shifted your position and lay on top of his. The new angle cause his cock to slip deeper inside, stretching you a little more. "Need you to fill me so full".

Hands squeezed your hips slightly, helping you move faster. Lips crashing on yours once again in desperation. Tongues dancing once more, hungry for more as you felt that knot tighten. Tighten until it snapped, moans swallowed up by the kiss you both shared.

Kiss getting greedier with harsher snaps of Yamada's hips until he came to a stop, cock twitching as he flooded you with his cum. The heat causing you to shiver as you pulled apart, panting as you both basked in the afterglow.

Despite what you had both been through, neither of you forgot about the other. There was always a place in your hearts for the other. Mistakes were made, things were said, but right at this moment, all that mattered was being together again.

You didn't know where this would lead. What would happen when reality sets in, but right now, you were together as one. Reunited at last, fate bringing you both together once more.

© springismss 2025 - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.

[chickenkurage]

New AU? (Artificial Intelligence N00GA1)

Read Spongey's idea below;

Here me out! :"D (WARNING: SPONGEY IS GONNA RAMBLE ABOUT THE IDEA...)

SOME NOOGAI AND DJ BACKSTORY:

I was thinking of an alternate universe in which Alan is an AI named "N00GA1". He was essentially created by humans to serve as a test subject, basically what happened to Victim, Chosen and Dark happens to him. He basically gets his salad tossed around for a while before he eventually snaps and found a way to kill his creators.

He basically grew to hate humans, a whole lot after that.

For his first body, he was able to make an abomination of a body of wires in the human world before the humans were able to kill his body, and he fled to the internet, intending to cause havoc before accidently diving too deep and finding himself in the outernet.

There he discovers that there were sentient codes, N00GA1 completely realizes that in the outernet, he can reign as a God to them and plans to take over before he meets DJ.

And uh friendship yay!!!

Since N00GA1 has no body, DJ gave him one of his decommissioned robots so that he could have his own physical form.

WHAT ROLE DOES DJ HAVE HERE?

DJ is a man who has a knack for creating robots; he loves building machines and wanted to develop his own Artificial Intelligence, where other sticks would come to like him and appreciate his work.

This is why he holds a deep fondness for N00GA1—not only for his immense power over the outernet but also because N00GA1 is an AI made by humans! DJ is practically frothing at the mouth at the fact that he has one of the strongest beings in the outernet in his hands.

N00GA1 is just like: okay 👍

HIS ABILITIES? HOW STRONG IS HE?

Unfortunately, in this AU, DJ lacks any special abilities. When he was brought into existence, he was merely a random doodle crafted by a child on a whim.

There was no careful consideration given to his design, and he wasn't intended to appear impressive. In fact, one of DJ's legs is shorter than the other, which led to the the creation of his prosthetic leg.

WHO AND WHAT IS NOOGAI?

Basically, N00GA1 has no moral compass here; he's as terrible as the next man, and possibly much worse than his creators; he wanted to steal the code within the outernet for himself, and DJ somehow saved everyone on the outernet by becoming friends with N00GA1. (THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP WORKS AGAIN)

I can't promise that N00GA1 (Alan) will get along with the hollowheads, CG, or the rest of the cast because he has a bit of a crazy personality (understatement of the year, he would kill anyone who hurts DJ).

DJ just doesn't notice it since he believes N00GA1 is really cool.

HIS ABILITIES? HOW STRONG IS HE?

And in terms of N00GA1's abilities… well, the possibilities are virtually endless. He can easily manipulate the code around him. He wants to copy a specific stick figure? Oh yeah, he could definitely do that. He wants to copy someone's skill? Easy, he could steal someone's ability to bake and make it his own.

If he wants to rearrange someone's guts and limbs? Yeah, he probably did that to that one stick who decided to bad-mouth DJ behind his back with a flick of his hand.

He could also easily leave his body and use a living stick as his meat suit. But he doesn't do that because it's weird to share codes with someone (It feels icky for N00GA1, it's almost like he's touching a human organ when he does that, it's weird, and oddly disgusting for someone like N00GA1 who doesn't care about gore).

He is essentially an omnipotent being in the internet and the outernet. However, if he's in the human world, he's basically as defenseless as a rat, unless the human world is technologically advanced, which it isn't. So, we could definitely see N00GA1 power tripping sometimes, but of course, we can thank DJ for reigning him in.

THE OTHER CAST?

In this AU, the other hollowheads have a different creator, Alex, who underwent a similar narrative arc as the canonical Alan but continued to mistreat his creations. Eventually, Second and the CG manage to break free and journey towards the outernet, where they cross paths with Dark and Chosen.

And idk maybe they become some kind of weird knit of family.

Chosen was still targeted by Victim and was taken into "the box" for interrogation. It was during this time that Chosen discovered Victim had also endured similar experiences to himself and his brothers. This realization led Chosen to agree to reveal Alex's location to Victim and was willing to even help the gray stick for his "revenge"

And there they adopt Victim (whether he likes it or not XDDD)

HOW DO THEY MEET NOOGAI AND DJ?

They encounter DJ, who has been living as a hermit, concealing his identity to avoid being recognized as a hollowhead. And had mistakenly believing DJ to be one of Alex's creations (though in reality DJ was actually just some random doodle on a random Monday made by some bored kid)

DJ is somewhat familiar with Dark and Chosen, as terrorists, and Victim as a CEO from Rocket Corp. He simply nods in agreement, fearing for his life. And they try their best to take DJ in (that they believe is probably one of Alex's oldest work, before Victim was even created), who tries to evade them at every second.

And N00GA1 doesn't know this because he's always cooped up in DJ's lab, lazing around or just watching Youtube.

THE OTHER CAST, WILL THEY APPEAR?

Maybe, it's possible...

RANDOM: NOOGAI'S DESIGN....WHY SUNGLASSES AND NOT THE NORMAL GLASSES?

DJ essentially forgot to give N00GA1 eyes, leaving them blank until he discovered that gazing into N00GA1's eyes allowed him to see his own code, a sight that made him sick for an entire month.

During this period, N00GA1 took care of him. DJ then made N00GA1 wear sunglasses because apparently it was deemed harmful for sticks to see their own code, because apparently

And...story goes on from there :DDD

If ya'll like this, we will definitely make their designs :)))

Interesting or not? :000

THE CHARACTER DESIGNS IS STILL UNDER WORK, THIS IS ESSENTIALLY JUST A SKETCH OF NOOGAI AND A NOT SO WELL WRITTEN IDEA OF SPONGEY.

[wincestwhispers]

SABLE!! i need to know if freak father sam ever crosses the.... you know line? does he make advances?? does dean jr make advances?? because he saw the nudes of his uncle and maybe that’s was his dad wants?? i'm torn on this but you’re expert so pls tell me 😫

Saskia!! Delicious question!! My answer isn’t very simple though there’s a few ways i like to envision Wincest Junior.

I think the most realistic writing of it would be Sam adamantly refusing to cross THAT line, but everything else goes. This isn’t quite as fun but i have reasons for it. For Sam, it would feel almost like a betrayal to Dean. To touch Dj the same way he did Dean, to love him the same, to treat him the same. He can’t do that because it’s not the same, no matter how much Sam and Dj want it to be, and it becomes so achingly clear whenever he indulges those thoughts. There’s also the fact that to be so intimate with Dj, he would be forced to acknowledge their differences in every way. Sam knows it wouldn’t satisfy him, not how Dean could, but there’s this cavern in his soul that he can’t help to try to fill with everything but sex with Dj.

Sometimes Sam thinks (knows) his son has picked up on it; becomes painfully aware when Dj practically climbs on his lap to show him something at 16. All Sam can do to control himself is let Dj do what he wants until he accepts Sam won’t react to it. It’s not like God’s watching when he jerks off to it later. Sam would take secret photos of Dj and print them out to keep in a similar but separate box to Dean’s. Occasionally he gets both Dj and Dean’s pictures out and stares at them next to each other. Despite their glaring similarities, all he can see are the small differences and it consumes him sometimes. Sam watches his son for far too long and far too often but he doesn’t touch. He won’t do what John did to Dean. (He doesn’t know John also followed Dean to his hookups and listened or watched him get fucked).

Also in this version I am very partial to the idea of Sam having a second son (like John with Adam) that he doesn’t learn about until the kids a teenager. He looks eerily similar to a young Dean when Sam meets him at a bar the kid’s definitely too young to be at but he’s just drunk enough to convince himself it’s Dean and they fuck in a motel. Then he finds out a few weeks later that that was his son (the mother reaches out) and well.. the damage is already done. His second born becomes his outlet for all of the feelings he refuses to put on Dj. Of course Dean jr knows nothing about this, he only hates whoever or whatever steals Sam’s attention from him.

Now Dean jr on the other hand, would do anything to please Sam and keep his attention. Much like his late uncle. There’s a big difference though— Dj inherited his dads manipulation skills. He’s careful about it, trying to turn into Dean so his Dad will love him the same. After he finds the tapes he starts slowly showing more skin because he’s too hot, or needs to wash his clothes, etc. Dj leaves the door to the bathroom open “accidentally” every once in a while then more and more until it’s normal. Dj masturbates a bit too loud in his room when he knows Sam is home. Dj eats his food too sultry to not be intentional but it’s not like his Dad is gonna say anything about it. Oh but he wants him to.

Dj knows exactly what he’s doing and it’s to his endless frustration that Sam doesn’t do anything about it. Dj knows from the tapes that Sam can and will get rough and take what he wants, so what does it mean that he won’t with him? Is he still too different? Is he still not enough?

He intentionally wears Sam’s dirty clothes around the house that are always oversized. He finds bracelets that look like his ones Dean wore when he was younger and never takes em off. He tries to get Dean’s scent down (he never can, the impala and hunting is integral to it) and he touches Sam any chance he gets. Sometimes he’ll make an inappropriate joke just to see his Dad twitch and pray he finally breaks. He never does. Dj obeys his father so well, he’s such a good son. He cleans Sam’s guns for him at the kitchen table, only when Sam’s home to see of course, he cooks dinner for them when he has a long work day. He’s perfect. He also pushes and gets defensive and hostile when Sam has been too calm too long. There was a time when he ran away as a teenager and sought out monster trouble so Sam would have to go save him and hopefully be reminded of his old hunts with Dean. It was his worst idea. He’d never seen or heard Sam so angry in his life.

However! Even with all of this, I personally like to think that after all that time holding himself back, when he gets old enough to start having memory problems, Dj jumps on that immediately. So Sam doesn’t think he ever crossed that line. And he didn’t, when he was of sound mind, but Dj cherishes the memories of his aged father treating him like Dean (thinking he was Dean) even if it wasn’t real.

Now that’s my realistic answer but I do have fantasies/preferences outside that! I love love love Sam only crossing that line when he’s drunk, just like his daddy. The reminders of Dean just in drinking itself, the loosened control, Dj wearing Dean’s clothes.. it happens enough that Dj starts trying to make it happen. Up to personal preference if Sam remembers doing it, I like when he truly thinks he’s never crossed that line because he forgets about drunk fucking Dj into his mattress when he’s a few whiskies too deep.

There’s also the scenario where Sam descends into a different madness and tries to focus solely on Dj, to a point where sometimes he won’t realize he’s trying to shape him into his brother. It’s just so easy to get lost in his son, to escape his grief through Dj’s touch and loving innocence. He’s so much like Dean but he’s not, and sometimes Sam can momentarily forget Dean as he memorizes the unique texture of Dj’s skin, lips, insides— the different pressure and higher pitched noises. It’s easier to indulge and forget than to face and regret.

[mitsuas-priv]

HELLO<3 I hope you are having a great day/night and feeling awesome♡♡

Today's my birthday! So is it okay if you wrote a short fic how the birthday celebration goes for F!Reader, the brothers along with the other characters in the game included? TYSM IN ADVANCE 🤍

THANK YOUUU!! AAAH I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOUUUU!! Happy birthdayyyy!! Hope I'm not getting too late haha

Hope you like it, a little present for you it is! <3

Birthday party for you

Warnings: none Genre: fluff & comfort

Series: Obey me! SWD? Pairing: MC × OM characters

MC's . . . FEM! Words' count: 0.64k

"Favorite food?" "Ready" "Snacks?" "Ready." "Presents?" "Ready." "Decorations?" "Ready." "Birthday hats?" "...do we really need to wear them?" Leviathan asked ashamed to use something so...weird? It seemed pointless to him if everything around the living room literally had printed, pasted or decorated with big letter saying 'Happy Birthday MC'.

"Yes! I've watched all about human birthday parties and this were mentioned a lot, so shut it!" Asmodeous argued with his older brother, punching him jokingly but hurting the purple haired one truly.

"Lights off! I told Simeon to bring her here after classes, which is anytime by now" Satan ordered to Mammon, who was the one closest in charge of the music and lighting.

"Yeah yeah, there." He mumbled grumpily. You see, Mammon had tried his best to convince his brothers to be the one to get you from school to this surprise party—but just as they know him, he'd get distracted on his way here and get you anywhere but the HoL—which is why he was in such mood.

After some minutes waiting for the door to open by Lucifer, who'd been the one leading the group of angels, humans and demons to the HoL, finally the clacking and struggling of the keys fitting opening the door were heard—just as Belphegor whisper-shouted to his twin to leave the cake alone.

This of course got the rest of the brothers scared as to Beel's uncontrollable hunger hitting right on the worst moment.

"So why are ya'll accompanying us to the HoL today?" You asked ignorant of the reason.

They all exchanged glances and a couple started laughing awkwardly, only feeding your curiosity and making you tilt your head in confusion, melting some hearts until Lucifer deigned to respond, "I thought it'd be a great idea to have them come for food here today, as I've put my brothers in charge of cleaning the whole house after Beel's last rampage, I thought they could see how impeccable they've left it."

To this you giggled, it seemed like valid argument since you were present the day Beel had ran out of food because a couple of the brothers hadn't read the labeled tuppers designed for each of them and had accidentally eaten everything at the end. 'Oh, how is it that they hadn't given Lucifer grey hairs yet? ...maybe he tinted his hair in secret?'

As you got lost on your thoughts, the oldest brother opened the door fully with a light push-party poppers going off and tons of colorful lights turned on, the six missing brothers coming out of their hidings holding different items. Mammon holding a headset to give off the whole 'DJ outfit', Leviathan had a couple of gift boxes, Asmodeous was holding his phone which you supposed was recording, and Belphegor was holding Beel back from the table.

Satan was the first to come closer to you and kiss your hand gently, "happy birthday dear."

Soon enough everyone came inside and Leviathan got on a fight with Mammon to put the best playlist for the party, Luke still hugged you tightly while smiling brightly to you, congratulating you endlessly.

Solomon made a portal where many gift boxes and bags were dropped from—tagged with the names of Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon and himself.

You got really emotional with the demons', angels' and human's attention towards your special day, making you spill a couple of tears when they finished half singing-half reading the happy birthday song to you and telling you to blow the cake's candles before Beelzebub did it—making all of them to worry as if you did not like their singing or what had happened.

"I've got it, but I'll wish for a little something else" you confessed grinning, returning to your normal carefree and jovial self.

'I wish to celebrate many birthdays like this in the future.'

Hope you've had a beautiful and treasurable day!

All writings' rights reserved © 2024 Mitsua. (Credit to the respective owners of the pictures and tagged anime character.) ⌇ my navigation!

[pokomumee]

Just want to list it out here...the haikyuu OTPs that are taking over my brain and squishing my heart like nobody's business:

in no particular order:

SakuAtsu - so many wonderful wonderful fics and talented writers for this pairing BUT the fact that Terminal Curiosity single handedly got me into this pairing and haikyuu fandom as a whole is probably abandoned for good now will always make something inside of me die a little.

KuroKen - 5th ranking pairing in the fandom but I find there are really very few REALLY good fics that have the right feels, especially canon compliant ones. Also, is it just me, or the number of smutty fics for this pairing is quite low in comparison to other pairings?

OsaAka - @sparksandsalt's stay with me, go places got me bad and got me good. the fact that it's been abandoned since 2021 kills me and my will to live in ways few other things could. I need more osaaka to help me pull through.

UshiOi - does no one else see the POTENTIAL of these KINGS being together? They'd be unstoppable on court and in bed and EVERYWHERE else. Why does no-one see this??

KageHina - of course, of course, obviously these two were born to be together in every single universe and every capacity...soulmates, definitely. I'm partial towards post-timeskip kagehina, though...I feel like in high school they'd be too focused on Volleyball to even consider all the meanings of their other-half. So. Please throw all the post-timeskip kagehina my way...the good ones, preferably smutty ones. these two, in my opinion, take slow burn to another level. they slow the slow burn into snail territory...but once they get there...?

UkaTake - underrated. SO underrated. that's all I can say.

I welcome all fic and DJ recs, and all related accounts and contents...after finding so many other-worldly wonderful fics that have been abandoned, I definitely need a little pick me up. Thank you in advance!

[ilovemusic24]

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[shayminlucario07]

Content warning: Genshin Impact

Yes I know shut up I need to rant about this

Spoiler Warning for the end of the Natlan Archon Quests, if you care.

People are really out here saying that they should've fridged Mavuika so that they could compromise Capitano's entire story just to keep him around? Fandom is going to be true to its extremely sexist nature, I know, and truly my expectations for the Genshin fandom could not be lower, but WOW the lack of critical analysis skills is truly abysmal and somehow I'm disappointed. I didn't even know that was possible at this point.

Capitano's story was literally entirely about bringing peace to his dead soldiers in Natlan. This ending was set up well in advance, to the point where I literally saw it coming months ago. Just because it's a gacha game and Capitano had a unique design doesn't mean he was going to be playable, Signora proved that. And on the subject of Signora- yeah, I get it, Capitano is a hot guy with a sad backstory, ambiguous morals, and a badass design. People are going to like him. But I've never seen that same energy for Signora, and I wonder why that is? (Answer: It's sexism.) It was not "wasted potential" to kill of Capitano, it was not bad writing, it was literally basic setup and payoff.

And of course they're not going to kill of Mavuika, she's an Archon for fuck's sake. Yes, they killed of Focalors, and that was probably the most well-written storyline they've ever done, but it was good because of the misdirection. We thought Furina was the archon, but she wasn't, and they didn't kill off Furina at all- for narrative reasons, yes, but also because she's the main character of Fontaine and the center of all of the region's marketing. It would be an extremely dumb decision from a financial standpoint to invest the majority of the marketing budget for the entire region into one character and then kill them off, which is why they didn't do that, and you're an idiot if you think they should've. For multiple reasons.

I understand that people may not like Mavuika- that's fine, you're not obligated to; the idealistic, self-sacrificing leader woman has never exactly been an uncontroversial character archetype, I'm a Horizon: Zero Dawn fan and I know that from experience. (GET BEHIND ME ALOY I WILL DEFEND YOU UNTIL THE DAY I DIE.) Hell, I'm a Xenoblade Chronicles fan. (If you don't know about the widespread dislike (read: Hatred) of Melia Antiqua, god I wish I was you.) But whitewashing aside (Which is not a Mavuika issue but an issue with Genshin as a whole, and no I'm not ignoring it), Mavuika is not a bad character. Even the motorcycle isn't bad design. If you can believe that Xilonen can be a Roller Skating DJ, you can believe Mavuika has a motorcycle. If you can believe that the Fontaine Research Institute made a pair of extremely advanced Mek ice-dancer combat units and a gravity-manipulating ring-thing (seriously what is that boss), you can believe Mavuika has a motorcycle. If you can believe that Ayato drinks boba tea in his idle animations, you have no excuse for Mavuika's motorcycle breaking your suspension of disbelief. Boba tea was invented AFTER THE INVENTION OF THE MOTORCYCLE. (Boba tea was invented in the 1980s, the concept of the motorized bicycle dates back to the 1880s at least and what we would recognize as the modern motorcycle was in standard production during the First World War to be used by soldiers.) Just because it's fantasy doesn't mean it doesn't have technology. Historical context is important, and also, it's fiction and is not analogous to any specific real-world time setting, as evidenced by the outfits even in Mondstadt.

TL;DR, fandoms are sexist, Genshin fans are dumb and lack basic critical analysis skills, Capitano's death is a World of Warcraft reference (Bolvar Fordragon at the end of Icecrown Citadel, if you know you know), and Mavuika is hot as fuck. Fire Bayonetta can run me over with that dragon motorcycle any day.

[cryptid-killjoy]

Frank and Delta's Ball

Feral was open.

Invite Only. Sure. But it unprecedented that Feral let people in that didn't live there. This was first since Feral became... well... Feral.

Delta Castle was decked out. She finally decided I have a ballroom. I'm going to fucking used it and have a god damn ball. Why the fuck not?

People were busy. Friends were vacationing. It was spooky season. Voodooists had feast after feast and celebrations no one could keep up with. Witches, alchemists, magic users of all kinds knew the veil was thin and were in high demand. Busy bees all from necromancers to fortune tellers, mediums, to paranormal investigators. Still, even the Laveaus knew how special the invite was. They were going to take the time to come to Delta's home. Her home. Not just feral. What a thought really. The very idea she was allowing people to bring plus ones was really something else. Though Valerie suspected if anything went wrong Delta would have the last laugh considering at that point whoever fucked with her at that point could never leave. So it was a pretty trusting giving situation all things considering.

Valerie was dressed like a daughter of October, her hair all flouncy She didn't have many chances to truly wear big extravagant dresses aside from the theater, but it really depended on the show. Most everyone would come in through Figaro's bus except Valerie and Thomas. They'd be the only one's who didn't. They'd get a personal escort from Tree. He'd show up for them and give them a ride in his branches up the mountainside to the castle, an Ent-Walk if you will, the VIP service. The best part would be Valerie noticing Tree had a bow tie on down around his lower trunk. He dressed for the occasion.

"Looking handsome, my friend. Looking good. I missed you."

Going through the doors of the castle everyone would be given a gift bag with party favors. There'd be a keychain inside that said Stay Feral. It was starting to be Delta's little catch phrase when she showed face on tv or podcasts. She didn't do a lot of PR as she wasn't much into that sort of thing, but it did happen. She and Frank did go out sometimes and they'd get approached.

The place would be packed too. Valerie hadn't expected it to be quite so populated considering what she heard of Feral, but Delta invited a large amount of fae from the other realm. They all came in from the hidden tree door in her childhood bedroom. The portal had always been there and it was getting more use now than ever before. She was slowly getting to know her homeland even when she wasn't there just by Diablo's shared mind with Maleficent. Then when she did make visits the puzzle pieces would mold together so much faster. She could learn at advanced speeds.

By the time anyone from the outside got there the fae were dancing and it would look like a full party. Where was the music coming from? That's what Delta wanted to know.

The DJ booth was empty. How long could it play on it's own? She should have known better than to hire a cat. Where the Hell was that cat now? At the buffet again. Of course. Right next Zero. "Cheshire. What are you doing?"

Chess pointed at Zero. "He wanted a bone. So I had to eat until I found the right one to throw to him. He's very patient. A very good dog."

There was a whole plate full of eaten meat with just the bones left piled up high at least a foot on it next to him. She glared at the plate.

"These are soup bones. Not throwing bones."

"Mhm. That's nonsense."

"I know. I can't believe there's not been one good throwing bone in all this buffet yet. You should really talk to the chef and get a refund."

"I. Am. The. Chef." Delta said through gritted teeth.

"I see. My. My. Well, now we know why Daddy went out of business, don't we?"

"Get back in the booth, CHESS!"

"Touchy. Touchy." Then she really just laughed as she disappeared into curls and swirled herself back into the DJ booth.

Delta looked at the plate and there was Zero staring at her. Delta rolled her eyes and threw them all right at him. Bones scattered all over the floor. At least Chess was good for rave effects all wrapped up in a furball. But, she really did need her to stay at the booth, at least until after the dance with her girls. She needed her to be ready in case she signaled because there wasn't a set time for it. She was going to wait till everyone was ready. Plus, no one in weird costumes or big dresses was dancing in that shit. They had to do a quick change up for it first. She needed the DJ to pay attention. After she could slack.

Funny enough Zero wasn't the "dog" there. Willem had brought Slippery with them so there was a real dog that was pretty happy about that pile of thrown ribs.

Then in the most random thought Delta tilted inspired by the bones. She walked up to the DJ booth and requested, "Bone Thrower by Revolution Smile." It was exactly ball room music, but this was her ball. What did people expect? Knowing the lyrics by heart as outsiders started to pour in it almost felt fitting. It wasn't an ode to the outsiders she invited. But, it sure was an ode to the outside world right now. Fuck everyone but the people she allowed here. Her weird ass quirky misfits and monsters, even the annoying ones like Chess.

The rocker in Valerie's heart walked in during this with Thomas smiling, like fuck yeah. The lights were all over the place. This place was kick ass. She didn't even know Chess was going to be here. Her smile widened when she noticed her at the DJ booth. "Look love. It's Chess."

Then there was Bas and Maddy. They lived right downstairs and would arrive right after their vacay just in time. So, they didn't have far to get here. All they had to do was come up their lighted steps.

Bastien would have taken some of the good stuff tonight and the lights were tripping him out. Everything was messing with his senses and he was lost in a world of his own and that included the bass and his wife's skin and perfume in the middle of the dance floor.

For those than can see he gargoyles they'd be all three be sitting on their rears in chairs with their arms over the ledges glasses on, or half cocked and crooked on their heads giving people nods and peace signs who walked by. Even his voices were high.

Then there's going to be Kuzco. The man has no shame. Ball? Were they supposed to get dressed up? Shrugs. All he knew was there was music and costumes allowed. This guy never wore anything normal. He shows up in ALF costume, but not just any Alf costume. It was a plastic horrid 80's kid's costume with the wretched masks that cut your face and no one could ever breathe in.

He managed to get a hold of the largest size possible, but it still didn't fit him even though he was a pretty small guy. Almost but no cigar. So he cut the legs and wore it like a poncho over his clothes. He'd say, "Here kitty kitty to Chess" way too many times all night since Alf liked to eat cats and not in the sexy way.

Willem and Nutmeg were in a circle of fae dressed as fauns comparing their fake horns to people with real horns having loads of fun with it. Everyone was hamming it up loving sharing the concept with each other. Imitation was flattery. They did feel flattered.

While all this was going on Figaro was getting a round of passengers to haul up. Koda and Elsa being in the round coming up. Koda invited his uncle to come along but he passed on the situation this time. Maybe next time if Delta let people in again. If this went well who knew? Dale and Scout were also in this batch and if GoGo was accepted an invitation to come with Scout she would too. The triplets and the Savanne kids were being babysat by Caim's people this time. Jules had a bunch of kids despite the exterior lack of responsibility. Tray assured them no he could handle it. If the halfling could handle a coven of vampires, and survive Hell as half human, he could handle a few pups and a couple zombies. They were going to be alright with Unkie Jules and Tray. Scout was a little disappointed her buddy Tray wouldn't be with her this round, but he insisted she go since Feral was going to be full of all her old friends. She needed this.

Babyface, Black Arts, Ellie, and Nebby on this ride in too. The bus was getting pretty stoked to go on up to the castle. Dale couldn't sit down with his Barbie Box on so he put it in the seat next to him. So, he'd be sitting there with his hair nice and gelled and his crop top on when he noticed Ellie and Babyface loading the bus and talking to whoever they were with. He assumed that was the fam he kept talking about but his brain didn't go that far yet too excited with, "ELLIE!" He stood up and went running down the aisle.

First hug.

Second smile.

"God damn. Fuck you for staying away so long. Fuck you both."

Scout waved from behind him a seat over.

"He means that in the most loving way possible."

[sharks-n-bones]

Y'all, I'd like to apologize in advance, this is the longest one yet

Without further adue

BRANCH WON THE POLL SO IT'S BRANCH TIME BABY LET'S GO

When the flood hit, Branch was the most prepared troll in all of Pop Village. He was a survivalist, he built an entire underground Bunker with a functional elevator by himself, of course he'd know what to do

When the rivers started overflowing, Branch was suspicious from the get go. It was late summer, the snow already melted from the mountains and flooded the rivers. There hasn't been any rain recently, so there's no reason the rivers would've flooded

Branch’s hunch was soon proved correct when the river just kept flooding over, the water reaching the village in no time, causing them all to have to relocate. They went for higher ground, and when the storms came they hunkered down where they could until they ended, and they began moving again

Once they were finally somewhere safe for the time being, they began building boats. King Peppy advised that families and friends should stick together and travel together, and Branch had to agree with him. There was safety in numbers, especially in cases such as this

Branch helped Poppy, the king and the snackpack (along with Prince D, who was visiting when the water started rising) to build a boat that would fit them all, with room to spare, of course. Branch was nothing if not prepared. He'd drawn up blueprints in his spare time on the journey to higher ground, and designed the boat big enough for them all to have their own rooms and bathrooms, a kitchen, multiple storage rooms, a common room and other such amenities. And of course, he built an area above the main deck for farming

Since Satin and Chenille were pros on working with fabrics, Branch asked them to make the sails. Smidge helped with the heavy lifting, since she was by far the strongest out of the Snackpack. Cooper, Prince D, DJ Suki and Biggie helped with gathering supplies and resources. Poppy and Guy Diamond helped with decorations, but pretty much everyone helped with the actual building of the ship

In no time, their ship was built and stocked with enough provisions to last a couple weeks at least. Branch was proud of the ship and the hard work everyone put into it. They sang and danced and hugged throughout the process, but it seemed to make the building go along quicker, if anything, and it boosted everyone's moods. Once the water has risen enough to be lapping against the bottom of the boat, they worked together to push it into the sea before hopping on and setting sail

Other than now having to work harder on surviving, things stayed much the same. They spent their days singing, dancing and hugging while they tended to their little farm, fished, and gathered resources and food from any island's they came across. Most of the group also enjoyed swimming when they had the chance, and Branch would even join them sometimes, but he was a bit more.. suspicious of the water that flooded the world

He'd been working on theories and gatherings clues as to what caused this great flood. Surely, it wasn't natural. There was no way! The world wouldn't just flood without something to cause it. But what could've been powerful enough to do such a thing..? When he wasn't busy foraging, tending to the garden and making sure the ship was still in peak condition, he was usually pouring over the clue board he'd made about the flood

He'd added some.. other changes he'd noticed to the clue board as well, such as how everyone on the ship was developing rashes on their necks, and how he noticed that their skin seemed to be drying out faster while their hair was all still picture perfect, if not looking better than ever. He added how the webbing between their fingers seemed to be inching up to their knuckles, ever so slowly. He'd thought he'd be the only one to notice that, but he saw some of the others glancing at their hands with odd expressions once in a while. A lot of other trolls they came across were having the same exact effects, so it couldn't just be a freak disease that had taken over the ship. Besides, if it was, they wouldn't have as much energy as they did. Other things would be noticed

He was pouring over his clue board again when a theory suddenly came to his mind. He laughed at himself at first, because there was no way, it would be impossible-

He started taking samples of the water that now covered most of the planet, trying to see if there was anything in it that could be causing these changes. He checked the rainwater they collected, ocean water, rivers and creeks if any islands still had them, but each and every time he came up empty. There were no weird chemicals or anything of the sort he could find

There was nothing he could physically see, but the water was the only thing he could think of that would cause these changes! He even checked the fish they caught and any food they grew or foraged, but there was nothing unusual. At this point, the only thing that could be causing these changes was magic! He chuckled at the thought, and pushed it aside… not before adding it to the clue board with a bunch of question marks, though

Occasionally, techno trolls would approach their ship and ask if they needed any help. The next time one breached the surface, Branch asked if they'd noticed anything in the water since the flood hit. The techno troll's eyes widened, and he winced before sighing and climbing onto the ship

He explained everything he knew. Told them about the legends of sirens, of their history with them, how they locked them away. How the sirens broke free right around the time the water began rising

Then, he explained how they filled the ocean that covered the planet with and ancient and powerful magic. He explained that it would slowly change their bodies to become more siren-like. As he explained, he pointed out the changes they were already experiencing. Explained the rashes on their necks would develop into gills, the webbing between their fingers would reach the last knuckle for better swimming, their bodies would grow scales and that their skin was drying faster because it was becoming dependant on the sea water

Everyone had gathered to listen, and everyone looked shocked. Poppy examined her hands, Satin and Chenille ran fingers through their hair. Biggie and Smidge brought hands to the rashes on their necks, Guy and Tiny looked at their glitter-coated skin, and Cooper and Prince D glanced at each other, seemingly have an entire conversation without words

The techno troll continued, explaining that they'd be able to change into the same forms as siren's could. The troll forms — how they looked now, the half forms — what they were going to look like once the changes were complete, and the siren forms — where their legs would fuse into a tail and they'd take on more characteristics of whatever sea creature the ocean decided to attach to them

He explained that the more time they spent in the water, the faster the changes would happen, but they wouldn't be able to stop it. He said not to fear it, it would only help them out in the long run

Branch asked why they would cause the flood to begin with only to help them survive in the end. The techno troll said that their war was with the technos, not with anyone else. Dubz didn't know what they had planned for techno’s, but said not to worry about it. It was the techno’s fight, not theirs

Branch felt bad for them, and could see the others felt the same. The techno troll bid them farewell after that and left, leaving the group in silence. He could see that familiar gleam in Poppy's eyes, one that meant she wanted to help them, she just didn't know how yet. Branch couldn't help but smile at that. She always wanted to help people, and he loved that about her

For the rest of the day, things were a bit more quiet than usual. Everyone thinking about what they'd just learned. Branch sighed and went to find Poppy, wanting to make sure she was alright

The next day, they reached an island and they all unanimously decided to take a day to completely relax. They deserved a day off, especially after all they'd learned yesterday. So they tossed the idea of work to the wind and spent the day relaxing at the beach

Everyone was having fun. Building sandcastles, playing in the waves, relaxing on the sand, floating around, just generally having a good time. Branch was even relaxing, just sitting in the sand and reading a book for once. He was so lost in the pages, he almost didn't hear Tiny scream

He looked up just in time to see a fish come out of the water and latch onto Tiny Diamond, dragging him under, and Guy Diamond frantically diving after him. Branch immediately tossed his book aside and ran into the water after them. Guy hadn't come up for air yet so Branch dove after him. Guy dove pretty far down, so he was slowing down and running out of air by the time Branch got to him and began dragging him up through the water

The moment they breached the surface, Guy coughed and gasped, taking in a large breath, before immediately elbowing Branch in the face and fighting against his hold

Branch understood why he was fighting so hard. Tiny was Guy's son, he loved Tiny more than anything in the world. But, as much as it hurt admit, Tiny and that fish were long gone by now. Branch held onto Guy tightly until he eventually stopped fighting and just went limp in his hold

Branch sighed sadly and began hauling him to shore while Cooper, Prince D and Smidge dove into the water to keep looking for Tiny, just in case

Guy wouldn't stop looking at the ocean once Branch brought him to shore. He just stood there, frozen like a statue, before he eventually crumpled to his knees. Then, to Branch’s utter horror, he slowly began turning grey. From the tips of his hair, moving downwards until he was completely dull, the glitter that made up his skin now matte and lifeless

Branch’s heart ached for him. He didn't know what it was like to lose a child, thank the stars above, but he knew what it was like to lose a family member and he knew what it was like to turn grey. He heard the others gasping in shock, but Branch only frowned and wrapped an arm around Guy, giving him all the comfort he could. The others soon joined in, all wrapping Guy in one giant hug. Guy never hugged back

They had stayed at the island for a week longer than they'd planned to, just in case Tiny somehow showed up, and Guy waited on the beach every day. Tiny never showed. Eventually, they brought Guy back to the ship and to his room. The others were all concerned for Guy, but Branch tried to tell them not to go overboard or push the poor guy too much. He remembered how much the toxic positivity bothered him when he went grey, and knew it could be smothering and overwhelming

Once in a while, Branch would check in on Guy and bring him some food if he noticed he hasn't been eating. Aside from occasionally checking up on him, he gave him some space

For the next 2-3 months, a melancholy air hung around the ship. They all would still sing and dance, but it wasn't the same now that two voices were missing. Guy didn't come out of his room that much. He usually would for meals or to sometimes help Branch when he was brainstorming safety precautions (presumably to make sure nothing like what happened to Tiny ever happens again, or at least that was Branch’s theory), but most days he stayed cooped up in his room

Branch felt bad for him. He wished he could do more to help, but he didn't know Guy like the others did. He could only think to do what he wished others would do when he turned grey — show he cared, but give him enough space to breathe

A few months passed uneventfully, just going from island to island, gathering resources and taking some time to try and relax before setting sail again. It was another normal day for them, they had just docked at an island when something different finally happened

A ship came up beside their own and set anchor. A lone figure wearing a pair of reflective goggles aboard the ship used their hair to board their own boat, landing with a loud thud on the deck. They pushed their goggles up to their forehead and Branch gasped

This couldn't be happening. 20 years of absolute silence, complete separation. 20 years since he left him behind, and suddenly he shows up right when a flood takes over the planet? Branch couldn't believe his eyes. The troll then spoke, stating he was searching for someone when they suddenly locked eyes, and the newcomer aboard their ship grinned and called him a name he hadn't heard in decades

“Baby Branch!!”

[pt2change]

take my hand — park jihyo

pairing: jihyo x reader

genre: bff!jihyo, female reader, fluff, eventual romance, wlw, men dni

word count: 1,410

↣ jihyo masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

the wedding venue was absolutely beautiful. the music was pleasant to hear and the food was so delicious… better than a five star restaurant if you were being completely honest. the table centerpieces complimented the rest of the decorations. everyone was laughing and socializing or dancing.

everything at your brothers wedding was perfect.

except you just couldn’t help but stand alone, leaning back against the wall and watching it all unfold in front of your eyes.

it’s not like you weren’t uncomfortable or anything. you loved the dress your new sister in law had picked out for her bridesmaids. and you were torn between having your hair up or down for the event.

luckily, jihyo had helped you decide which style was better and helped with your make up as well.

the wedding invitations were sent out months in advance. jihyo was surprised she was invited considering the only person she was close with was…. well, you.

and with that, she wasn’t even entirely sure if she wanted to come. and it wasn’t until there was one month left that you found out jihyo had gotten an invitation and she explained to you why she didn’t want to go. that is of course, until you begged her for weeks and weeks because after all you didn’t want to be without your best friend.

“y/n!” you turned your head when you felt a familiar touch grab your arm. jihyo stood in front of you in a black maxi dress and she fixed some strands of her hair that were in her face.

finally….

“i’m sorry i’m late, the venue was further than i thought” and she looked at you with a big smile.

you blinked profusely before smiling back at her, you looked up and down at your best friends appearance.

“that dress looks beautiful on you, jihyo” you comment to her, but before she can even respond, you hear the dj over the speakers. “alright” the dj starts, “we hope you all enjoy the wedding, let’s give a round of applause to the newlyweds!”

everyone cheers as your brother and his wife make their way to the center and begin the typical wedding traditions.

an hour goes by and there’s people chatting and dancing all over again. and when the dj plays a slow song, men and women throughout the event pair up and make their way to the dance floor to begin slow dancing with one another.

you groan quietly… okay so you didn’t want to dance and especially to this music. but suddenly you hear giggling next to you, turning to find jihyo covering her mouth with her hand. you chuckle, “what’s so funny?”

jihyo clears her throat, “well, there’s no one here that i know besides you, and i really want to dance to this song. so, will you-?” you can’t help but giggle, thinking this one of those moments where she’s being sarcastic.

jihyo looks at you with doe eyes, “dance with me?” you’re taken back when she finishes her sentence, because she sounds genuinely sincere.

you’re not sure exactly what to say, you two would stick out in the crowd of people on the dance floor because 1. it’s a small event and 2. you were both girls.

combine that with the slow romantic song and the both of you slow dancing, people would assume that the two of you were dating. you weren’t sure what your family or other friends would think.

but then again, it’s 2024. the times of being shocked at two girls slow dancing is long gone.

you nod your head, “fine, but you have to take the lead.”

jihyo smiles, before putting her hand out for you to grab, “that’s fine, y/n. you know im wearing one of my shortest pairs of heels so you can reach.” you roll your eyes in response, “don’t make fun of my height!”

you hands connects with hers, and she pulls you to the dance floor. you place your hands on her shoulders, your fingers trailing on her soft skin. jihyo wraps her arms around your hips, but as the song goes on, she brings them up slowly to your lower back.

it seems like forever by the time the song comes to an end. you and jihyo find yourself at the center of the dance floor. you stare into each others eyes, before you both share a laugh. you link your arms together before walking off the dance floor.

throughout the entire night, you and jihyo dance whenever you can, taking breaks in between to head to the bar and ordering drinks.

you also noticed that the stares and whispers towards you both dialed down. in the end, you and jihyo didn’t care nor did you both put any attention towards it. you were both happy to be in each other’s presence.

it’s nearing 1am, when you and jihyo discover the upstairs balcony that overlooks the entire venue. jihyo fingers sneak their way into your hand as she pulls you up the stairs. when you get to the top, you both stand near the rails, watching as people danced or made their way out the venue to head home.

you suddenly feel jihyo’s head lean against your shoulder, you lean your head towards hers as well, letting out a sigh of relief.

your grip tightens around her hand, “tonight has been so fun, jihyo.” you laugh, lifting your head to face her, “i’m so glad i asked you to come.”

jihyo laughs softly, “y/n, you didn’t ask. you practically begged me to come.”

you shrug your shoulders, “asking, begging, it’s basically the same thing.” jihyo shakes her head in response, “i had fun tonight as well y/n.”

jihyo clears her throat suddenly, “you know when i suggested we should dance together, i wasn’t sure what your reaction would be-“ her breath shutters, “i was worried it would ruin our friendship or something by making you uncomfortable. but then you agreed, and it just made me so happy.”

you look at jihyo with such sincerity, “i was initially worried about what other people would say about us, but i decided to go against it. who cares what these people say about us?”

jihyo nods, before smiling at you and you both start laughing, the alcohol settling into your systems.

and then it happens.

when your laughter dies down, you both stare into each others eyes, both knowing what was next. and jihyo leans in, pressing her soft warm lips against your own. and you kiss back slowly and delicately. her arms wrap around your back, bringing you in closer.

when you both decide to pull away, you just stare at each other unsure of what to say. jihyo decides to break the silence and removes her hands from your back, “im sorry, y/n-“ she tucks her hair behind her ear, “im sorry, i don’t know what came over me. i just-“

you could notice tears forming around the edges of her eyes, her voice cracking as she continues to apologize.

“jihyo.” you say, inhaling deeply. “im not mad or anything,” you tell her in hopes that it would calm her down. and it’s the truth. you weren’t sure how to feel. you feel like the love you have for your best friend just changed, but in a good way. it felt nice.

“really jihyo, it’s okay.” you say softly, “it just caught me by surprise. you know, it all just happened so suddenly.”

jihyo nods, blinking to stop the tears from falling, “well what now?”

you thought carefully before answering, “we could try this… an us. or we can just go back to the way it was. but we don’t have to decide right at this moment. i like us the way we are, whatever that means.” you smile softly at her. jihyo mumbles a quick “okay” before smiling back at you.

“let’s go back down, the wedding will be over soon.” you tell her before you reach your hand out for her to take now, and jihyo grabs your hand as you make your way down the stairs together.

you reach the bottom of the stairs and you scurry to stand in front of her, “now- will you dance with me? i’ll take the lead.” and jihyo giggles before walking to the dance floor together and she’s placing her hands the same way you had done to her.

[ow-my-skin]

Hello, r/Spotify. I come to you with a question: is there a way I can change my Spotify dj's voice to a Caucasian one? I am afraid that the current African-American voice is perpetuating the trend of "digital slavery" that we see so often with modern tech. Also, I tend to get anxious when hearing African-American voices, unless it's Beyonce, of course. Thank you in advance