#i will queue other music posts i just. i have to share this one with you guys immediately | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

melpomene-writes · 10 months

Text

my celebrity crush

minatozaki sana x fem!reader // fluff, smut

you are so gay.

as if there has ever been any doubt about that.

the photo on the screen of your phone is just further unnecessary proof of that fact. you try telling yourself that you’re just appreciative of an expensive matching lingerie set but the truth is that you’re halfway in love with the gorgeous model and the voluptuous curves that the lace frames.

besides, you might as well appreciate the latest photograph that underwear model minatozaki sana has posted to her instagram account — it’s been shared to be looked at, though perhaps not with the kind of meticulous attention that you use to admire every pixel of the frame.

there’s no question about it, minatozaki sana is gorgeous. anybody with a working pair of eyes can see that. that she was placed upon this earth specifically to model underwear, you have no doubt. but sometimes you wonder whether sana’s existence has a secondary purpose — to torture you with those pretty brown eyes and her smiling lips and each flash of delicious skin.

“you’re so gay.”

tzuyu’s comment, while undeniably true, is the unwelcome gravity that sends your thoughts plummeting back to reality.

“she’s so pretty,” you whine, staring mournfully at the picture for a few seconds, before you continue scrolling down your instagram feed.

“yeah, because you were definitely admiring her face,” tzuyu comments drily, giving you a knowing stare. she nudges you with her elbow, then gestures at the drinking game that you’ve been ignoring in favor of drooling over an unattainable model. “come on, it’s your turn.”

you reach into the center of the circle and flip over a playing card, before pointing across at dahyun and gesturing for her to take a drink.

“trust you to fall for a girl who’s famous,” tzuyu says, when the game has moved onto your other side.

“i haven’t fallen for her,” you pout. “i’m just appreciative of her work.”

“you get a notification whenever she posts a new photo,” tzuyu reminds you. “i don’t even do that for the people that i’m dating. you’ve got it bad.”

you scroll back up to look at sana’s picture once more, and your heart twists painfully in your chest at the smoldering gaze that sana gives the camera. finally deciding to stop torturing yourself with daydreams about what will never be, you lock your phone and slide it into your pocket, then gesture to the half-empty bottle of vodka on the floor between yourself and tzuyu.

“i need a stronger drink.”

///

you’ve got a nice o’clock class in the morning, yet you still allow tzuyu to ply you with a generous amount of vodka, still allow yourself to be drawn in by the increasingly raucous drinking games, still allow yourself to be dragged out into town to continue your night at a club when you promised yourself earlier that you would only have two drinks and then be in bed by eleven.

it’s a dangerous game to play, but once you become aware that you’re way drunker than you planned to be, you decide to embrace it and order the next round of shots — tequila this time —much to the delight of your friends.

your mind’s fuzzy as you stumble away from the dance floor and down a dark hallway with unpleasantly sticky floors towards the women’s bathroom. there’s a queue lining up outside, a string of drunk girls complimenting each other’s dresses and catching loudly over the thump of music as they wait for one of the stalls to free up and you join the back of it, fishing your phone out of the pocket of your pants to pass the time.

when you unlock your screen, it’s still open on the instagram post from earlier, and your eyes pop out of your head once more as they’re greeted by the sight of minatozaki sana’s lace-clad body. the sight knocks the air out of your lungs, and you feel giddy. (it might be the alcohol, but you’re pretty sure that this photo really isn't helping the matter.) you feel as though you could stare at this photo all week, that sana’s sultry brown eyes and the expanse of creamy skin on display could keep you sustained better than the food and oxygen that science says your body needs to survive.

tzuyu’s words from earlier ring in your mind. trust you to fall for a girl who’s famous. end despite your earlier denial, you know now that it’s true. you’ve never been this addicted to a girl in real life, never felt like your life would be incomplete without somebody. and its fucking ridiculous because minatozaki sana’s a famous model, and you’re just an insignificant speck in sana’s extensive follower list. you might dream of an alternate universe in which a chance encounter with the model leads to a fulfilling relationship and a fairytale happy ending, but the reality means that this will never actually happen.

which is why what you do next is so easy.

it’s almost certainly the alcohol that pushes you to start typing out a comment on sana’s photo, fueling the resentful part of your mind that’s reminding you that sana’s not the only incontestably gorgeous, but that as a famous model she would never even glance twice at somebody like you, pushing your thumbs to tap away at the keyboard on the screen of your phone before your brain has the chance to catch up.

“nice underwear, bet it would look better on my bedroom floor...”

the line moves forward just as you tap send, and you slip your phone back into your pocket and forget about the comment entirely.

///

when you’re finished in the bathroom, you return to the dancefloor with a clear conscience and a renewed enthusiasm for having a good time. you dance with tzuyu, shimmying your hips and waving your arms around above your head in ways that would bring you great shame if you weren’t impaired by the buzz of too many units of alcohol. as it is, you dance like you don’t give a fuck — and you don't.

that is, until your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you take it out while continuing a half-dance kind of thing, startling yourself with the bright glare of the screen as you unlock it in the darkened nightclub. you turn down the brightness, then look for the cause of the vibration — an instagram notification telling you that somebody has sent you a private message — and read the words on the screen.

“nice face, bet it would look better between my legs...”

you read the sender’s name once, twice, three times before it registers that it reads minatozaki sana — your celebrity crush minatozaki sana — and it is only after that the contents of message itself hits you.

and you nearly drop your phone.

no way.

no fucking way.

you read it all again, read your own shame-inducing comment that you barely remember typing earlier in the night and then read sana's private response. and it just doesn't make any sense. sana’s making fun of you, she has to be. you’ve made an unwanted and inappropriate sexual comment on a stranger's photo and sana’s calling you out for it.

you have to believe that’s true because the alternative is that sana’s message is genuine, and that is far too much for your alcohol-fogged brain to handle.

there is no way that sana would be interested in somebody like you.

you’re a firm believer that the multiverse theory is entirely plausible, but you cannot comprehend that there could be a single universe in which you get hit on by somebody as completely out of your league as minatozaki sana.

especially not in this universe.

especially not after the awful comment that you sent.

you wish that you could rewind time. it's stupid, to be completely honest, because you've spent months dreaming up impossible scenarios in which sana notices you amongst the thousands of fans, but now that the day has finally arrived, you don't think you've ever been this mortified in your life.

you need to be sober. you also need to rectify this situation as soon as possible, and because sobriety seems to be several hours and a few pints of cold water away, you settle for working on the latter.

"i'm so sorry! i've been drinking and i don't know what i was thinking when i wrote that! i promise i'm not a creep!"

it's word vomit in written form, but you aren't capable of typing out anything more articulate in your current state and you're at least grateful that the message contains no spelling errors. you hit send and push the phone back into your pocket, as if putting the whole thing out of sight will wipe it from your mind.

if only the world worked in that way.

“what’s wrong?” tzuyu bellows into your ear from just a few inches away, and despite the proximity, her words are still almost drowned out by the thump of the bass.

you try to act normal, realizing quickly that ‘normal’ behavior is a lot harder to pull off when you’re thinking about it, and just shrug, before answering, “just not feeling it anymore. i’ve drunk too much.”

“we can go if you like,” tzuyu replies. “i’m pretty much done for the night too.”

your phone goes off again in your pocket, and you try not to be too eager in taking it out, just in case tzuyu notices your strange behavior and probes further.

“why don’t you enjoy the rest of your night, and we’ll see if you’re still interested when you’re sober tomorrow?”

you frown down at the screen, because the words don't entirely make sense and you don't know if that's your fault or sana's fault or the alcohol's or some fiendish combination of all three.

“interested in what?”

you press send and sana’s next message comes back almost immediately, and you can’t help but picture sana somewhere with her phone in her hand, waiting for your message so that she can reply straight away. (sana’s scantily clad in this scenario, and draped across a bed, because apparently your mind enjoys straying to inappropriate places after too many shots, and oh boy, if your mouth wasn’t dry before then it certainly is now.)

“in seeing my underwear on your bedroom floor.”

you lock the screen of your phone in panic, lest anybody around you happen to see the conversation with sana and put it away as you lean towards tzuyu and say, “yeah, let’s get of here.”

///

when you wake up, the only thing to hit you before the hangover is the shame.

you remember everything. well, there are clear gaps in your memory — you don’t remember the journey to the nightclub, nor getting food on the way back home even though there’s an open pizza box with two and a half uneaten slices lying in plain sight on your bedroom floor, nor the exact set of circumstances that led you going out on a night that you’d promise yourself you would stay in. but you remember everything about minatozaki sana, about the obscene comment you posted on sana’s photo, about the inexplicably propositional message that you received in response.

and you’re mortified.

you unlock your phone with the greatest reluctance, because you're hoping that there’s a tiny chance you drank so much last night that the entire thing was merely a dreamed-up product of your own alcohol-addled mind but nope, the messages from sana are most definitely glaring up at you, which means that you did the unspeakable and pretty much sexually-assaulted a stranger via an instragram comment.

the third thing that hits you, once you’ve confirmed that last night’s events really did happen, is the realization that you should’ve been in class twenty minutes ago.

you drag yourself out of bed, grateful that you at least had enough sense to change into pajamas when you got home in the early hours of the morning, rather than passing out fully nude, as you’ve done before, and take your phone with you out of your bedroom and into the kitchen where tzuyu sits at the table, chewing on a slice of toast.

“tzuyu, we have a big problem,” you announce.

tzuyu glances up from her plate, an expression of mild surprise on her face before she swallows her mouthful of food and replies, “for the last time, y/n, skipping class because you’re hungover is not the end of the world.”

you feel a bang of sadness for the loss of your unblemished attendance record this year, but then shake yourself out if it when you remember that there are far worse things that you’ve done in the last twenty-four hours than forgetting to set an alarm.

“no, something happened last night,” you explain. when panic flashes across tzuyu’s face, you hold out your phone, which is open on the comment you made on sana's photo last night, and quickly say, “no, nothing like that. look at this.”

tzuyu squints at the screen, mouthing the words of your comment silently as she reads it, before her mouth drops open and she stares up at you with shock in her eyes.

“jesus christ, y/n. that’s not like you at all.”

“i know!” you whine, taking back your phone so that you can open up the message conversation that follows on from your comment. “i’m mortified.”

“i mean,” tzuyu says, taking another bite from her toast and continuing in a muffled voice, “that photo has hundreds of comments. i’m sure she hasn’t seen it.”

“hold on,” you tell her. “i’m not finished.”

you show tzuyu your phone once more, this time open on the surreal conversation with sana, the one that you wouldn’t believe actually happened if you didn’t have the hard physical evidence of it in front of you.

tzuyu’s reaction is predictably astounded.

“what the actual fuck?”

“so, you see it too?” you ask, just to confirm, as tzuyu takes the phone from you to look at the conversation in more detail. “i haven’t just fantasized the entire thing?”

tzuyu frowns down at the screen with an expression of disbelief that matches how you feel, and then answers, “it would appear not.”

the phone in tzuyu’s hands vibrates with a new message, and you lunge forward to snatch it from your best friend, only for tzuyu to use her height advantage against you to keep you the phone to yourself.

“it’s from her!” tzuyu announces gleefully, before she reads out, “‘morning cutie!’ — oh my god, i’m going to be sick already — ‘hope you aren’t too hungover. the offer still stands. i’m in dc for a shoot next week if you’d like to go for a drink?’ holy shit, y/n. she’s serious.”

you finally triumph in taking your phone back, reading over sana’s newest message to find that tzuyu didn't make a word of it up. minatozaki sana, a famous model so gorgeous that you’re certain she could date anybody she wanted, has actually asked you out.

“it’s a joke,” you say aloud, for your own benefit more than for tzuyu. “it has to be. retaliation for the gross comment that i left her. she has to be making fun of me, trying to see if she can trick me into saying yes, before she jumps out and tells me that of course somebody like her would never be interested in somebody like me.”

“okay y/n, this may be news to you — and don’t you dare repeat this conversation to anybody because you know i hate it when people think i can be sincere — but you’re actually kind of hot." when you open your mouth to protest, tzuyu shuts you up with a dismissive wave of your hand and continue, “and i know that girls could be flinging their panties at you and you’d still come up with a completely illogical explanation for why they might still not be interested in you, but it’s not completely unreasonable that minatozaki sana has checked out your instagram account, decided that you’re a hot piece of ass and wants to screw you.”

you chew on your lower lip, because that’s an unlikely story, even though the messages that stare up at you from the screen of your phone seem to support a similar idea.

“look,” tzuyu says, reaching out to rest one hand on your arm, “if you don’t want to then you don’t have to. but just remember that most people would give anything to be asked out by their celebrity crush.”

it hits you then. this is your celebrity crush, the woman that only ever appears in your fantasies. an opportunity like this would never present itself again.

“okay,” you finally concede. “but if i turn up to meet her and find that she’s there with a half dozen police officers waiting to arrest me for sexually harassing her online, then you are paying for my legal fees.”

///

you’re terrified. you’ve been a jittery ball of nerves all afternoon, and now that the minutes until you meet sana are down to the single digits, the pounding of your heart is deafening.

“y/n?”

you’re so nervous that you startle when you hear a voice saying your name, and you jump to your feet when you see sana standing in front of you.

sana is… she’s shorter than you imagined her to be. she’s only fractionally shorter than you, but it still surprises you that this figure you’ve built up in your head to be such a monumental idol in your life doesn’t actually tower over you in reality.

sana seems completely normal too, as if she’s just a regular person, rather than a famous model with hundreds of thousands of online followers. and yeah, of course you knew sana wasn’t going to show up in just a fancy set of lingerie, or wearing a glamorous ball gown, or anything like that, but there’s something about seeing sana wearing a pair of turned up jeans with rips in both knees, a leather jacket, a plaid scarf bundled around her neck, that just grounds the entire situation.

she’s still gorgeous though. you think that sana could have turned up in a pair of sweatpants and with unwashed hair and you would still momentarily forget how to breathe in her presence.

sana’s eyes are browner in real life, and her smile even prettier, and if you weren’t at least fifty percent in love with the model before this moment, then you definitely are now.

“sana?” you choke past the dryness in your throat to finally stop gaping like an idiot and say something. “hi! um, can i get you a drink?”

“sure!” sana answers, unraveling her scarf from around your neck and taking off your jacket, folding both over one arm as you lean on the bar and flag down a bartender. “i’ll have a white wine, please.”

“a white wine and a vodka lime soda, please,” you tell the server behind the bar, reaching into your purse for some change to pay for the drinks.

“you look great, by the way,” sana says, nudging herself into your side as she leans on the bar beside you.

“so, do you,” you say. “i mean, wow.”

you turn to look at sana with the intention of physically acknowledging how good sana looks but find brown eyes much closer than you expect. you falter, intimidated by sana's proximity, and have to look away for your own sanity.

“don’t be ridiculous,” sana dismisses your comment with a wave of the hand, as if she hasn’t just dazzled you with a simple gaze. “i came straight from a shoot so i didn’t even have time to properly get ready.”

the bartender places your drinks on the bar, and you take the opportunity to distract yourself from the heat rising to your cheeks in sana’s presence by reaching out for your purse and counting out the correct change to pay for your drinks. passing the glass of wine over to sana, you pick up your own drink and lead the way over to a small table for two not far from the bar.

“i want to apologize for the comment that i left on your picture,” you say, almost as soon as you both have each taken a seat, desperate to get your apology in early so that you have a chance to redeem yourself and prove to sana that you can be so much more than just a creep from the internet. “i was drunk, and i know that doesn’t excuse anything...”

“don’t worry about it,” sana says, taking a sip from her wine and then placing the glass on the table. “it’s not the first time i’ve seen a comment like that. admittedly, they’re usually from gross teenage boys or pervy old men...”

“i’m incredibly sorry,” you repeat, mortified at being placed in such a category.

“look, i can tell that it’s out of character for you,” sana reassures you. a sly smile quirks her lips, and she adds in a lower voice, “besides, i like a girl who isn’t afraid to say that she wants.”

your mouth goes incredibly dry from the combination of sana’s words and the look that sana gives you in that moment, like she wants to launch herself across the table and do unspeakable things to you regardless of the bar’s other patrons, and you have to reach for your drink to cool yourself down.

“do you do this often?” you dare to ask, almost scared to hear of all the other people sana must’ve invited out for drinks, just like this.

“do what?” sana frowns.

“go out for drinks with fans.”

sana shakes her heads and answers, “actually, this is the first time.”

you almost choke on your drink. you had been expecting sana to say that she does this all the time — she must do this all the time if she's doing it with you — but the reality is a complete surprise.

"then... why me?"

it doesn’t make sense. sana has over ten million followers on instagram, and out of them all, she has chosen you.

“i don’t know,” sana shrugs. “something about you intrigued me. when i saw your comment, i was curious because it came from a woman. and then i looked at your photos and i liked what i saw.”

you feel your cheeks flush when sana confessed to browsing your own instagram account. you use it to post pictures of sunsets and hand-picked flowers and the cat that followed you home from the library last week. nothing that would make a lingerie model swoon.

and yet sana’s still there, sitting in front of you with a drink in her hand that you bought for her.

“what about now?” you dare to ask. “do you still like what you see?”

sana’s gaze slowly lowers, staring at your eyes and then dropping to your lips, where she lingers before her stare slides down the rest of your body, as if she’s checking you out through the table that sits between you both. when sana’s eyes flicker upwards once more to meet yours, she doesn’t answer your question verbally. instead, the way she raises her eyebrows at you, along with the renewed hunger in her eyes, is more than enough of an indication of her thoughts.

“so,” sana eventually drawls, “it took you a great deal of alcohol for you to post that comment, right?” when you nod an affirmative, sana continues, “and how many drinks before you’ll let me take you back to my hotel?”

you glance across at your drink, already half empty from the way that you’ve been sipping at it regularly as a distraction from the mounting arousal that has you clenching your thighs together. your decision is instant, and you reach for the glass, knocking back your head to pour the remainder down your throat.

wincing at the taste of the vodka, slightly stronger at the bottom of the glass than it had been at the top, you put the glass down with a thud and reply, “one’s more than enough.”

sana’s eyes light up in delight and she finishes her own drink in one gulp, before collecting her purse and jacket as she pushes back her chair.

“then let’s get out of here.”

///

if somebody were to ask you at a later date to recount the journey back to sana’s hotel, you would only be able to do it in the vaguest terms. it’s a blur of sana’s hand in yours, and sana’s hand on your waist, and sana’s hands drifting lower so that it's not quite grazing the curve of your denim-clad butt when you both have the privacy of the elevator up to sana’s room.

the two of you talk about... about something. the two of you must do, because the journey isn’t an awkward one, not entirely anyway. you think that you both talk about sana’s current shoot, and your college classes, and other such idle chitchat that happens entirely on autopilot. none of it really registers in your brain, because you’re still completely overwhelmed by the fact that you’ve met your celebrity crush, let alone the fact that said celebrity crush has invited you back to her hotel room for what promises to be the most mind-blowing evening of your entire life to date.

you’re still half-convinced that this whole thing is just a hoax, that sana’s hand seeking out whichever part of your body it can find to hold as you both make your way up to sana’s room is only there to stop you from running, that you both’ll step inside sana’s room to find a television crew armed with cameras and a half dozen confetti cannons ready to jump out and tell you that you’ve been pranked.

because there’s no way that sana actually wants to have sex with you.

but the two of you make it up to the hotel room, and when sana unlocks the door with her key card and ushers you inside, there’s nothing waiting for the two of you except a king size bed that’s equal parts inviting and intimidating.

“can i get you another drink?” sana asks, dropping her purse and jacket onto the floor beside the dresser and opening the door to the mini-fridge in the corner of the room to inspect its contents.

“no,” you answer, deciding that although a little liquid courage would be more than welcome right now, you want to be sound of mind to experience this for whatever it turns out to be. “i...”

“oh,” sana says, shutting the fridge door again and crossing the room to you, her hands seeking out your waist and slowly guiding you back against the wall next to the door. “is there something else you'd rather be doing?”

“i...” you stammer, your throat almost painfully dry, “i have a couple of ideas.”

“yeah?”

you hesitate before you act, searching sana’s face for any possible sign that she doesn’t want you to kiss her, but when you find none, and when sana’s hands tighten on your waist in encouragement, you lift one of your hands to cup sana’s cheek and pull her in for a hot kiss.

despite waiting for you to initiate the kiss, sana takes control as soon as your mouth meets hers. she keep you anchored against the wall with her hands, while her mouth opens and her tongue swipes against the crease of your lips, requesting access that you’re only too happy to give. and you’re grateful that sana’s taking the lead. the entire situation still drips with surrealism, and your brain can’t keep up with the fast pace of the evening's developments.

you’re kissing minatozaki sana. you’re in sana’s hotel room, with sana’s hands low on your hips, and sana’s tongue sweeping into your mouth, and there’s no fucking way that this isn’t just a hyper-realistic dream. except that you’re too aware of each tiny detail for this to be a dream, too aware of the thudding in your ears with each pump of the blood through your veins, too aware of the way that sana’s hands burn through the material of your top, too aware of the ache between your legs as you subconsciously push your hips forward into sana’s as if seeking contact where you so desperately need it.

it has to be real.

almost as if she senses that you need a respite to let your brain catch up with your body, sana pulls back from the kiss, far enough for you to see that sana’s brown irises have almost shrunk entirely behind the black of her blown pupils, before sana’s parted lips descend on your neck, tracing dangerous paths over tendons and fluttering pulses.

it’s still very distracting, the way that sana’s teeth and tongue work at the skin of your neck with no real predictability in their movements, but without the intoxication of sana’s lips on your own, you do manage to remember that there are things you planned to say to sana before things could get to this stage and with your mouth free to speak, you choose now to attempt to vocalize them, if only to give you something else to try and focus on instead of succumbing entirely to your desire.

“i just want to say,” you manage to husk out, impressed with your own ability to string words together in the face of sana’s valiant efforts at making you lose your mind entirely, “i think you’re… you’re a great rolemodel to young girls, a real icon. the campaigning you do for body positivity… and, uh...” you let out a little grunt as sana’s teeth close around a sensitive spot on your neck, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut to regain the composure needed to finish your sentence, “and the lgbt community. you know, bisexual represen—”

“y/n,” sana says, lifting her mouth from your neck and cutting your words off with a disarming arch of her eyebrow, “i would love to hear all this later, but right now i can think of much better things that your mouth could be doing.”

you let out a noise somewhere between a whimper and a groan at the implication of sana’s words, but you get a sudden surge of confidence, sliding your hands under the hem of sana’s top and bunching the fabric upwards.

“can i take this off?”

sana smiles as she detaches her own hands from your hips, allowing just enough space between your bodies for you to lift sana’s top up and over her head.

you don’t know how to cope now that sana isn’t wearing a shirt. it seems silly, because you've seen this sight before — sana’s breasts covered in satin or lace — but before it’s always been part of a carefully constructed photoshoot intended to be shared with millions of other people. this is completely different because it’s a private showing. nobody else but you get to see this view, and knowing that sana wants it to be you and only you seeing her body tonight, is more of a turn on than anything that you’ve ever encountered in your life before.

“shit,” you groan, closing your eyes as arousal throb in your veins.

“your turn,” sana husks. “i want to see you too.”

sana’s hands tug at the hem of your top and you raise your arms above your head, allowing sana to pull the garment up and off, before she drops it on the floor beside her own.

you almost want to fold your arms across your chest, feeling incredibly self-conscious about standing there in your bra in front of a woman who gets paid to be photographed wearing the same amount of clothing on her upper half. you decided earlier today to put on your nicest bra, just in case things escalated this far, but you’re still just a poor college student, and your nicest bra cost about thirty-five dollars, compared to be obviously far more expensive that sana wears.

“fuck, you’re beautiful,” sana exhales appreciatively, stroking the fingers of one hand across your cheek, then down the column of your neck and over your collarbone before her palm comes to rest over your lace-covered breast. “i can’t wait to get you naked.”

you surge forward, pressing your lips against sana’s, and the force of the movement causes sana to stumble backwards, one hand anchoring itself on your waist while the other palms your breast generously.

“bed,” you mumble, between hot kisses full of tongue that swipe messily at each other and teeth that nip at swollen lips, as you attempt to steer sana backwards towards the bed in the middle of the room, something that only becomes more difficult as sana’s thumb and forefinger pinch at an already puckered nipple through the fabric of your bra.

the two of you make it to the bed, somehow, by which time your jeans are caught around your knees and your fumbling hands have propped open the button on the front of sana’s. you kick your jeans off, tossing them on the floor somewhere behind you as you climb on top of sana, disconnecting your lips long enough to help sana tug denim down her own legs.

“come here, gorgeous,” sana says, smirking at you as she lies back on the bed, propped up on her elbows.

you follow sana’s request, crawling up sana’s body with your legs on either side of sana’s hips, your aching center hovering just inches above sana’s lacy panties as you lean down for another kiss. your long hair tumbles over your face, and you have to take a moment to flick it all over one shoulder, before you connect your lips once more and let your hand slide up the smooth skin of sana’s side until it’s resting on the other curve of sana’s lace-clad breast.

“can i?” you mumble against sana’s lips.

“take it off,” sana says, arching her back off the bed so that you can reach your hand underneath sana and unsnap the clasp. “i want your mouth on my breasts.”

you’re only too happy to oblige, undoing the bra with a shaky hand before throwing it to the floor. you don't allow yourself time to think — or time to realize that sana’s now lying topless before you, because that would almost certainly be too much for you to handle — before you descend on sana’s breast, wrapping your lips around a rosy nipple while you send one of your hands up to give sana’s other breast a generous squeeze. you swipe your tongue over the nipple as it puckers and sana’s hand finds the back of your head, tangling into brunette curls to keep your mouth against her breast.

you’re not satisfied with just this though. now that you have a taste of sana’s skin, you want more, you want to put your mouth on every tantalizing inch of sana’s body. you replace your mouth with your other hand, giving attention to the hardened bud with your fingers, while your tongue traces a path down the valley between sana’s breasts and down sana’s stomach.

sana’s body is even more perfect in person than in her pictures, and you get more and more proof of that with each second that you spend worshipping it. sana’s belly has a slight curve to it, unlike the stereotypical stick-thin model, and you make sure to lavish the soft skin with attention. you trace mindless patterns over sana’s stomach with your lips, stopping every so often to place kisses or draw pictures with your tongue. you seek out sensitive spots, reveling each time sana lets out a gasp or arches away when your lips brush over a ticklish area, making sure to return to these places until sana’s a writhing mess beneath you.

the hand on the back of your head grips tighter, then try to push your mouth down further. you smirk against the warm skin of sana’s stomach, knowing exactly where she wants your next destination to be.

but you won’t give in that easily. you lift your mouth from sana’s stomach and settle on your knees between sana’s legs. sana lets out a groan of frustration, but it’s one that dies in her throat when she realizes that your hands have gone to her hips, seeking out the elastic of her underwear to pull the lace down her legs and discard it on the floor.

you’ve been in this situation with girls before, but you don't think you’ve ever wanted it this much. and it’s not just because sana’s famous, or somebody that you’ve been harboring an unrequited crush on for way longer than the other girl has even known of your existence. there’s just something about sana, about the way that her kisses taste like perfection, about the way that you seem to know exactly what to do to elicit each gasp of pleasure from sana despite being a thrumming ball of nerves, that gives you the inexplicable sensation that your life was always supposed to end up in the moment, whether you like it or not.

you definitely like it. there isn’t a question about that. and, judging by the smear of sana’s arousal that coats your stomach when you settle back between sana’s legs, sana likes it too.

minatozaki sana is into you. which is just way too strange for you get your mind around. sana’s so beautiful, both in looks and personality, that she might as well be from another universe, while you’re just... well, you’re just you. you’re nothing special. completely ordinary.

“i need your mouth,” sana begs.

you’re only too happy to oblige. you trail another path down sana’s body, similar to before but with more purpose now. without the scrap of lace covering sana’s center, your destination is in sight, and you waste very little time getting there, only stopping briefly over sana’s breasts and her navel and that sensitive spot just above sana’s left hipbone that you discovered during your earlier exploration, in attempts to drive sana wild.

everything about this situation is incredibly surreal, but you decide the moment that trumps it all is the one when you slide your tongue through sana’s wetness for the first time. you can’t believe you’re here in sana’s hotel room, let alone going down on the woman you admire, but the heady taste of sana’s arousal on your tongue is eerily familiar, yet also different to anything you’ve ever tasted before.

instinct kicks in. no longer is this you and your celebrity crush, this is you and a girl who wants you, a girl who needs you, if the way that sana’s hips cant up into your mouth is anything to go by. sana sends a hand down and tangles it into the hair on the back of your head, keeping your mouth against her while she bucks her hips and gyrates against your mouth.

it’s really fucking hot, is the first thing that crosses your mind. and there’s no second thing, because you lose yourself in it all. sana’s enthusiasm is smearing her arousal all over your chin but you fucking love it, love the way that sana just can’t seem to get enough of your mouth.

“yes, baby,” sana mounts out encouragements between whimpers. “yes!”

you’ve never been called baby before, but you decide that you like it coming from sana’s lips. you double your efforts in response, wrapping your lips around sana’s aching slit and lashing your tongue against it. sana bucks her hips again when you do that, lets out a few more murmured encouragements and a gasped ‘fuck’, and you hum against sana’s center in approval.

you realize that sana’s going to come really fucking soon if you keep this up, and while the thought is an encouraging one, you aren’t quite ready to be done yet. you slow down the ministrations of your tongue, moving away from sana’s sensitive clit to drag lazy paths up and down sana’s folds, while bringing up a hand to spread sana open for you.

“do you want...?” you ask, lifting your mouth from sana’s center as you dip the tip of an exploratory finger into sana’s opening.

“god, yes,” sana groans, lifting her hips off the bed in an attempt to get your mouth back on her. “do what you want, y/n. fuck me. i need... yeah, just like that.”

you go straight in with two fingers, knowing that sana's more than ready for both, and you let out another hum of delight at the sensation of sana clenching deliciously around your digits. you curl your fingers against sana’s front wall, seeking out the erogenous area that you know will drive sana crazy, and you know you're successful when sana’s back arches off the bed and a husky groan erupts from her throat.

“fuck. y/n, just like that.”

you speed up your motions, thrusting two fingers in and out, and lean down against to put your mouth against sana’s center. there’s no pretense anymore, no need for further delay. you need to see sana come for you and you need to see it soon. you swipe your tongue against sana’s folds once, twice, then dive right in, giving sana’s clit the unwavering attention of your lips and tongue while your fingers slowly work sana higher and higher.

“shit, baby. i’m gonna…”

no amount of warning could prepare you for sana’s orgasm. you know it’s been building but it still takes you by surprise, from the way sana’s hips lift off the bed, to the shout of pleasure that escapes her lips. you use your free hand and splay it over sana’s hips, keeping them anchored to the bed, while you use your fingers of the other, still buried in velvety warmth, to coax yet more sounds from sana’s mouth.

sana’s body stutters through the climax, trembling beneath you with unpredictable jerks, and even when you think you’ve drawn the last of sana’s pleasure from her, sana’s body still twitches once more, before she collapses onto the bed with a contended sigh.

you withdraw your fingers and wipe them on your thigh, not minding the sticky mess they leave behind, then crawl up sana’s body.

“did i do okay?” you ask, because even though sana obviously just came for you, you need to know if it was good enough, need to know if you’ve done enough for sana to stick around long enough to return the favor.

sana’s hands pull your head down for a kiss. there’s almost too much tongue, but when you realize that sana is merely tasting herself on your lips, you decide that there can be no such thing as too much tongue, and you let sana’s filthy kiss take control.

“you’re so cute,” sana mumbles against your lips, her mouth turning up into a smile. “way more than okay.”

in a sudden move that takes you by surprise, sana flips you both over and hovers above your body with a predatory smile on her face. she lowers her mouth to your neck, closing her teeth over your pulse point and sucking what is going to turn into a dark mark into the pale skin there, before moving even lower.

“what was it you were saying earlier?” she asks, between kisses that draw a path over the swell of your breasts and down towards your navel. “i believe you used the words ‘feminist icon’. why don’t you tell me a bit more about that while i eat you out?”

your head falls back against the pillow and your hand finds the back of sana’s head. the moan that spills from your throat when sana’s lips close around your clit can probably be heard from the hotel lobby many floors below.

///

six months later

you hum a jaunty tune under your breath as you slot your key into the front door of your apartment. you smell like an airplane, and you haven’t eaten all day but none of that matters when you’re still riding the high of a weekend spent in your girlfriend’s bed.

you’ve been dating sana for six months now, and it still feels a little bit like a dream that you’re praying you’ll never wake up from. that night in sana’s hotel room was one of the best of your life, and once the two of you were done exploring each other’s bodies over and over again, the two of you both stayed up talking into the early hours of the morning until you both were too tired to stay awake any longer.

as you push open the front door and drag your small suitcase inside the apartment. you smile to yourself at the memory of that night and the morning that followed. if sana asking you out for a drink was surreal, if sana taking you back to her hotel room and fucking you until you couldn’t remember your own name was surreal, then nothing could have prepared you for sana inviting you along to the second day of her photoshoot the following day, nor the way that sana took you twice in her dressing room during her lunch break, nor the relationship that blossomed from there.

it’s been a really great six months.

“tzuyu?” you call out into the apartment, leaving your suitcase by the door and walking toward your roommate’s bedroom. “you in?”

“yeah!” comes tzuyu’s reply.

you push open the door to tzuyu’s room and find your friend sitting up against the headboard of her bed, her laptop on her thighs, which she moves to the side when she sees you standing in the doorway.

“so, how was your weekend away?” tzuyu asks.

“it was good,” you grin.

‘good’ doesn’t even begin to cover your weekend spent with her, but then none of the other words in the dictionary do either. you don’t think you’re going to be able to stop grinning for days.

“have you been on instagram lately?” tzuyu asks.

“no, why?” you frown, fumbling for your phone in your jacket pocket and opening up the app.

“take a look at your girlfriend’s latest post,” tzuyu tells you, her voice full of glee and eyes lit up with delight.

you scroll down your feed until you find the photo in question and read the caption.

there’s nothing quite like letting your girl take it off you at the end of a long shoot…

your eyes flit up to the picture, a photo of a pair of lacy underwear lying discarded on the floor, and heat rises to your cheeks as you realize that sana must’ve taken the photo while you weren’t paying attention.

the thing is you recognize the underwear. in fact, you remember picking the set out at the mall specifically to wear on this trip to visit sana, and you remember the nerves you felt while putting them on and wondering whether sana would like what she sees, and you remember the satisfaction of sana popping open the clasp of the bra and drawing the lacy panties down your legs with only her teeth.

“shit,” you groan, letting your head fall against tzuyu’s doorframe with a soft thud.

“what?”

“that’s not even a picture of sana’s underwear.”

tzuyu’s shriek of glee is a sound that isn’t going to leave you in a long while.

probably the most requested one...

#kpop x reader #kpop imagines #twice x reader #twice imagines #twice sana x reader #twice sana imagines #minatoazki sana x reader #minatozaki sana imagines #sana x reader #sana imagines #girl group imagines #gxg imagines #kpop #twice #twice sana #minatozaki sana #sana #girl group #gxg

660 notes · View notes

deadgirlwalking91 · 2 months

Text

new update - 'Thank You for the Venom', chapter 2 🎸 🗡️

Chapter One

Chapter 2 Summary

Lute addresses the Exorcists with changes to the program.

...or at least, attempts to.

Can I just say a huuuuuuuuge thank you to those who read the first chapter of this silly little story? And another thank you to those who liked, reblogged and commented? You're all legends!!!

ao3 queue update - I'm number 24,363 in the queue, so more than halfway from where I started to an invite!

***

Chapter 2

The Common Room, Exorcist Training Centre, Heaven

There were precisely three times in Lute’s life that she could recall being so anxious she wanted to vomit.

The first time was minutes prior to her maiden voyage down into Hell. Her nerves had taken over to the point where, during Adam’s address before they descended through the portal to the realm below, she’d made sure to hide at the back of the crowd behind her sisters-in-arms. She’d hoped that the gateway to Hell would close before she had the chance to fly through, and she could stay behind in Heaven where she knew it was safe. Where she didn’t have to stress about being a disappointment if her performance wasn’t up to scratch.

As it turned out, Lute had no reason to worry. She had a natural talent for slaughter, and when she was armed with a sword, she was downright lethal. Once she stepped foot on the brimstone-covered streets of Hell, it was like a kill-switch had automatically been triggered somewhere deep inside her brain. No less than one hundred and sixty-seven Sinners were exterminated at her hands that year, earning her the highest individual amount for a rookie Exorcist ever recorded. She’d even been congratulated personally by Sera at the informal post-Extermination party that year, who didn’t usually attend such frivolous events, but she made a point of deliberately stopping past to seek out Lute and offer her praise.

“I’m going to keep my eye on you,” Sera had promised, her serene voice the only sound Lute could focus on despite the blaring music and drunken chanting vibrating through her ears. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see one of her fellow soldiers chugging expertly from a beer bong, golden ale dripping down her chin as other Exorcists and Adam egged her on. “Continue the hard work, and you’ll do great things, soldier. I know it.”

The second time was a considerably less serious situation, yet an experience Lute found nothing short of mortifying: Vaggie had accidentally stumbled across her secret collection of romance novels one night when she was over visiting.

Romance wasn’t something that Lute had the patience for in her day-to-day life – in fact, she could think of nothing worse than having to share her time, her thoughts, her bed with somebody else. That would mean dropping her callous, tough-bitch façade and exposing the fact that she had feelings.

No. She had a reputation to uphold and as such, it was far easier to be alone and dedicate her focus to her work.

That didn’t mean that she couldn’t switch off at night and escape reality for an hour or two. Most nights, after meticulously cleaning her apartment and ensuring any outstanding work was completed, she’d curl up on her two-seater sofa under a blanket, hot chocolate in one hand and novel in another. She found an inexplicable comfort between the pages of those books, allowing them to stir emotions inside her that she would only allow to be felt when she was off-duty and alone. Some pages made her pulse quicken and pale cheeks flush as golden as the sun itself if they were particularly steamy. The more tender stories, however, stirred her softer side, making her stomach flutter and heart skip a beat.

She’d even shed a tear once at a particularly moving epilogue, though she’d rather tear her own arm off than ever admit it out load.

So, when Vaggie had opened Lute’s wardrobe that chilly evening to borrow a hoodie and noticed the box of poorly-hidden books – most of the covers depicting couples in various stages of undress, locked in compromising positions – Lute wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow her whole. It was the one guilty pleasure that she had for herself, and she couldn’t bear the thought of what would happen if her secret was exposed to her sisters. Her whole ‘tough bitch’ persona would be shattered, and then what?

“I swear to God, if you breathe a fucking word of this to anybody, Vaggie I will beat the living shit out of you.”

“Relax,” Vaggie had laughed, studying the cover of one book through tears of mirth. “I won’t tell the girls that deep down, their Lieutenant is secretly a sucker for happily-ever-afters with a side of throbbing co-”

Lute seized her opportunity to tackle Vaggie to the ground and wrestle the tattered paperback from her friend’s hands, taking good measure to ‘accidentally’ whack her with it once or twice. Though she never stopped teasing Lute about her guilty pleasure, Vaggie stayed true to her word: she never told a soul about Lute’s dirty little secret, to which she was incredibly thankful for.

Those scenarios though, as nerve-wrecking and embarrassing as they were, paled in comparison to how Lute felt in this present moment: standing in front of her hundreds of peers, feeling the Commander’s eyes boring into her back, basically burning two holes directly through her shoulder blades. She knew he was daring her to fuck up, and there was no chance she was going to give him that satisfaction.

“Exorcists. Recently, there have been some concerns raised regarding the future of Extermination Day.”

Light murmurs started to ripple through the crowd of women, which didn’t help the bubbling feeling threatening to rise Lute’s abdomen. She flexed and clenched her left wrist in a feeble attempt to distract herself from her own nerves.

She was used to this. Whispering was fine. Nothing to worry about, totally normal, in fact. Besides, this happened all the time during Adam’s speeches – though usually, her sisters-in-arms were laughing at one of his inane jokes.

Reel them back in, Lieutenant.

“Be quiet.” Lute commanded sternly, and to her relief, the whispers died down almost instantly. “After extensive analysis, we have concluded that – ”

“We? Ladies, just so you’re aware, I’ve had absolutely nothing to do with the bomb your lieutenant is about to drop on you.” Adam strode over next to where Lute was standing and bent down to mockingly rest his elbow on her right shoulder, his mask twisted into a smug grin. “If you think she’s a bitch now – and, you’re totally right, she absolutely is - you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Lute exhaled sharply, trying not to let her frustration take over, and shrugged Adam’s arm off her shoulder with slightly more force than needed. Adam knew he had her cornered – if she reacted to his taunts, she’d be just as childish as he was. If she ignored him, she wouldn’t give him the rise that he was hoping to get out of her, but consequently she’d probably give off the impression that she was tolerating his attitude. Neither of those options were preferable – unfortunately, the lesser of two evils was to push through.

“Thanks, Commander, for your input, but I’d like to get back to the matter at hand if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing, babe.” Adam waved a hand carelessly, indicating his boredom. “This is your gig, I’m just the supporting act, right?”

Lute ignored the jab as she felt the heat rising in her cheeks. The whispering had started again, and she knew she had to act quickly to get her sisters attention back to the matter at hand otherwise she’d lose their interest completely. She locked eyes with Vaggie at the front of the crowd, who gave her a quick thumbs up, the subtlest of reassuring smiles plastered across her otherwise expressionless mask. At least somebody was in her corner this morning. She wiped her now-sweating hands on the skirt of her training uniform and continued with the speech she’d rehearsed at least a hundred time over the past few days.

“Our Extermination Day kill count has been in steady decline over the past decade. As a result, Hell’s population continues to rise – we estimate growth of about twenty percent over the last three years alone. At this rate-”

Adam coughed loudly and pointedly. “Nerd.”

The whispers grew louder as they echoed off the walls of the room; the Exorcists now not bothering to hide the fact that they were talking amongst themselves. Their voices rang in Lute’s ears, drowning out her will to persevere with her speech. She tried to focus on her breathing to calm her stomach, but the thickness of the air around her only made her increasingly aware of just how damn suffocating her helmet was.

“What is going on with them?”

“I hope she punches him in the face!”

“That’s only because you’re mad he didn’t call you after-”

“ENOUGH!”

The chatter amongst the Exorcists stopped immediately at the unexpected sound of Lute’s raised voice, the identical eyes on their masks all widening in shock. Lute wasn’t known for losing her temper at her fellow Exorcists. Sure, on the battlefield she took no prisoners, and within the training compound she was strict, but she always known to uphold a professional demeanour in front of her peers.

Well, except for the time she threw a mug at her boss’ head. That was different, though. He deserved it.

“I don’t want another fucking interruption again this morning.” Lute growled, not bothering to disguise the anger in her tone. Professionalism be damned, she was going to get through this. “From anybody.” She looked pointedly at Adam, who held his hands up as if to say, ‘what did I do?’.

“We need to turn this decline around fast if we have any chance of improving our stats by next Extermination Day, or we risk further overpopulation in Hell. As of this morning, we’re taking a different approach with our training. We’re going back to basics. None of you are wielding a single weapon or touching the simulator until we get the foundations right. Physical conditioning. Mental resilience. Hand-to-hand combat. When – and only when – I see significant improvement in those areas, you’ll pick up a weapon again.”

Great recovery, Lieutenant.

Lute pulled her helmet off her head, inhaling sharply and savouring those first few unrestricted breaths. Feeling the coolness of the air on her face refreshed her flustered state, grounding her once again. She set it down on a chair behind her and began to remove her gloves and boots.

“Going back to basics also means we’re not wearing these helmets during training for the time being. Or our boots, or gloves, or neck armour – you’ll never learn properly if you’re physically restricted. Moving forward, you’ll come to training in leggings, crop tops and trainers. We’ll reintroduce personal equipment once we build our skills back up. Get your helmets and armour off.”

The sound of metal clinking and armour hitting the floor echoed throughout the common room as her sisters removed their helmets and protective gear. Sensing she had a moment to herself, Lute ran her hands through her hair, separating the silvery strands that had been compressed together under the weight of her helmet. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back and massaged her scalp where the top of the helmet had irritated it, the sensation from the pressure eliciting a low ‘mmm’ from the back of her throat.

“Is that all it takes to make you moan? You’d be such a freak in the sheets, Lieutenant.” A low voice murmured in Lute’s ear, sending tiny shock waves that pulsated throughout her entire body, causing her eyes to flutter open.

He was so unexpectedly close to her; she could practically feel the smug satisfaction emanating off his body like a radiant heat. He’d deliberately sidled up next to her as he whispered so softy that only she could hear his voice, the silk of his robes just grazing the sensitive feathers of her right wing. Goosebumps spread up the back of Lute’s neck, the uneasy feeling that had been lying dormant in her stomach for several minutes now back with an unrelenting vengeance.

“Can you fucking not?” She snapped, ruffling her feathers in a futile attempt to create a barrier between them, trying to erase the closeness between them that she was now all too aware of. Not budging, he began to laugh – not just a small chuckle either, but a proper belly-laugh, his hands clutching at the front of his robes.

“Sorry babe, but that’s not usually a sound someone makes when they scratch their head. Coming from somebody as uptight as you though, it was basically pornographic.” He turned away from Lute towards the back of the room, reaching under his mask to wipe a tear away from the corner of his eye. “Look, you even made me cry. Funny shit.”

“Hilarious. Respectfully, Sir, go deep throat a cactus. How’s that for pornographic?”

The last word of Lute’s sentence rang throughout the room as she slowly came to the realisation that the Exorcists had finished removing their gear some time ago and had been watching the back-and-forth between her and Adam for God knows how long.

Long enough for them to confirm what they were already suspicious of: that there was some kind of unspoken, private war raging between their Lieutenant and Commander.

“Right!” Lute barked, stepping away from Adam to create as much distance between them as possible. In her peripheral vision, his shoulders continued to shake with silent laughter.

“We’re moving into Hall One, ladies. Today’s the day I start whipping you bitches into shape. If I hear any complaints, you get burpees. If I see any slacking off or fucking around, you get burpees. Clear?”

“Yes, Lieutenant!” the crowd chimed in unison, before filing out of the room, their chatter filling the awkward silence that had hung in the air moments ago. Without a second glance back at Adam, she collected her discarded uniform and strode after her peers.

As Lute made her way into the training hall, she couldn’t help but notice the feeling in her stomach had shifted. The anxiety from just under her chest had finally dissipated, leaving behind an unfamiliar, burning feeling deep in her abdomen that she couldn’t quite place.

Shaking her head, she chalked it down to relief at finally getting through the morning address and shifted her focus to the task at hand.

It was time to start training her girls.

***

Stay tuned for the next chapter! I'm not naming the chapters for this story, but if I could name the next one.. it would be 'Dangertits'.

#adam x lute #guardrock #guitarspear #guitarspear fic #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin lute

40 notes · View notes

imoanurparentsnames · 6 months

Text

hello selfproshippers! it's that time of year again for drabblecember!

drabblecember is a month-long selfship event, in the same vein as f/ovember & safeshiptember with a focus on 'winter' themes and creating short or non-taxing selfship art pieces.

rules:

- all selfproshippers are invited to participate.

- f/os can be familial, romantic, platonic, sexual, or other

- your art does not have to be writing! it can be a sketch, a doodle, a render, a playlist, anything you want! it may be called drabblecember, but the important part is that it is a non-commital, easy way to participate in a month-long event.

- you can put your art on queue! there is nothing wrong with that at all

- you can create your own prompt lists!

this event will start on december 1st! there is a prompt list for this event special. please don't feel pressure to do all of them, or all prompts in the same order, they are just prompts!

alt text:

1 - cold weather

2 - baking together

3 - decorating

4 - learning traditions

5 - sharing stories

6 - wrapping gifts

7 - snowed in/stuck inside

8 - sharing snacks

9 - a walk outside

10 - sleeping in

11 - building a snowman

12 - snowball fight

13 - movie marathon

14- one of them stealing the other's sweater

15 - being sick

16 - scrapbooking

17 - laundry fresh from the dryer

18 - winter date

19 - hot coffee/tea/chocolate

20 - listening to holiday music

21 - walk down memory lane

22 - trying to stay up late

23 - stealing sweaters (the victim of the last stealing gets their revenge!)

24 - big get together

25 - swapping gifts

26 - after a party

27 - making dinner together

28 - doing chores together

29 - shopping trip

30 - morning routine

31 - happy new year

end of alt text.

if you are interested in participating, please reblog this post with a tag or comment (i have notifications off for reblogs with no tags/comments). i will be following #proshipdrabblecember closely to try and boost as many creations during the event as i can. and remember to have fun!

#proship #proshipper #stolen from an anti #antis dni #selfship #antiship dni #proship selfship #antiproship dni #selfproship #proshipdrabblecember #imoanurparentsnames

68 notes · View notes

red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 5 months

Text

✨The MHA Boys Go To The Eras Tour With You✨

Lol I just had to do this, please bear with me! I just watched The Eras Tour film and my MHA brain rot kicked in. Here's a few headcannons of how the MHA guys would react to being taken to the Eras Tour as your boyfriend. Spoilers: They're all weirdly into it. And some of them even plan out couples costumes! Gasp!

⚡️⚡️Denki Kamanari⚡️⚡️

Ok there is no doubt in my mind here - Denki is absolutely a Swiftie. He read all of the blog posts detailing hacks and tips to get tickets for the show, and he preregistered for a sale code the minute he was able to. He has half of Class 1A sign up for presale codes so that he can have the most amount of chances possible to enter for a spot at the show.

He's absolutely over the moon when he scores you both tickets to the upcoming concert. He asks you to help him make a Pinterest board so that you can come up with the perfect Eras outfits (he wants to do Lover). Guess what? You go as Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince. He's decked out in a glittering blazer with a bejewled plastic crown and he's thrilled. He picks out a matching flashy dress for you to wear, and keeps complimenting how absolutely gorgeous you look in it the whole night.

He's all about taking photos of your 'fits in front of the stadium and blushes every time he gets a compliment from a fellow swiftie. When Taylor takes the stage, he nearly faints. As she starts playing Lover he holds you close and tells you that he's so glad you both get to share the special night together.

🖤🖤Hanta Sero🖤🖤

Sero really doesn't get what all the hype about Taylor Swift is about, but of course he's willing to go to the concert with you. The man loves live shows - but you need to tell him to leave his vape pen behind for fear that you won't get let into the stadium if he's caught with it ("But babe, getting high at a concert is part of the experience!).

You get him a plain black t-shirt with a small snake icon on it. He doesn't get it, but he shrugs and promises to wear it. When you get to the stadium, he's really overwhelmed and intrigued by all of the glittery, feathery costumes. He spends a lot of time trying to figure out how his snake shirt fits into the mix since all he sees is hot pink and red regalia. He smiles and waves gamely at the other swiftie boyfriends in attendance and makes more than a few bro friends while in line for a beer.

When the show starts, he is immediately impressed by the production value of the whole thing. When Taylor steps out onto the stage in her glittering bodysuit, his jaw drops and he turns to you accusatorially "BABE! I never realized that she's hot!?" You both laugh as she sings her way through the Eras.

When Love Story comes on, he wraps his arms around you and says "I remember this one from when we were kids! Makes me think of you." He plants a kiss on your cheek and you grin.

Finally, the intro music for Reputation queues up and an animated snake curves it's way across the stage below you. Sero grabs your arm excitedly as he realizes the snake on his shirt matches the stage. When Taylor comes out and kills the choreography for "Are You Ready For It?" Sero turns to you with stars in his eyes and says "This is the coolest concert I've ever been to. Thank you so much for bringing me!" By the time Karma comes around, he is fully dancing in the aisles alongside the rest of the swifties, completely wrapped up in the moment as confetti rains down on the crowd. When you get home, he buys you matching Reputation era sweatshirts on Etsy to commemorate the night.

"Babe - maybe you can get one of those sparkly bodysuits like Taylor wore?"

"Sero - I have absolutely no place to wear something like that."

"I can think of somewhere you can wear it." He waggles his eyebrows suggestively as he pictures a bejeweled bodysuit tightly hugging your frame.

💚💚Izuku Midoriya💚💚

Izuku has no idea who Taylor Swift is. Why would he? She's not a Pro Hero.

Once you excitedly show him your hard-won tickets stored in your Ticketmaster app, he realizes how important the concert is to you. We all know Izuku is great at hyper-focusing on a topic until he masters it - so for a month straight Taylor Swift is his obsession.

He starts an Eras Tour specific notebook and spends lunch breaks interviewing everyone at Lunch Rush about their favorite Taylor Swift songs and eras. He spends time online gathering data and drawing up little charts, guessing at what songs might make the set list. He's disappointed when he can't find any interviews online that feature her choosing the best Pro Hero, so he decides that her favorite is likely All Might (the only valid choice).

He listens to each album in full, starting with Debut and ending with Midnights. He's thorough, and learns the lyrics to the chart toppers off of each album. He's so excited to impress you with all of his Taylor Swift knowledge and fun facts at the show, that he forgets he needs to dress up for it. When you both arrive at the stadium, he whisks you off to one of the merch lines so that he can grab an official Eras Tour t-shirt. He needs to be appropriately dressed for this occasion in order to prove his dedication to you and, by extension, to Taylor. You tell him that it doesn't matter what he wears, you just want him to enjoy the show with you.

When the show starts, he is bouncing off the walls. From time to time, he'll bend down to whisper an obscure fact or data point about Taylor's meteoric rise to the top of the music charts. A few eras into the show, he stops sharing fun facts - that's how you know he's legitimately enjoying the show.

He tries his best to dance along, but even with the moves he's picked up from Mina he's a truly terrible dancer. He doesn't seem to care, though, as he throws back his head to belt out the bridge to "You Belong With Me" while shaking his hips. You smile at how much he's enjoying the concert - you haven't seen him let loose like this in a long time.

Finally, when the performance for Vigilante Shit starts to kickoff, you notice a deep blush settle across Izuku's cute freckled face. Without taking his eyes off the stage, he leans down to whisper in your ear: "I didn't realize that this song was so...sexy?" You crack up and he grins sheepishly, watching Taylor straddle a chair. He then boldly says: "Maybe you can do some of these moves when we get home?" Your loud cackle of a laugh is drowned out by thousands of swifties singing along around you. You tilt your head up to kiss your boyfriend hard on the lips. He threads his fingers into your hair and deepens the kiss.

You pull away, craning your neck to take in more of the killer choreography before turning back to face him. "I like concert Izuku. I'd like to see more of him." You say, and he blushes even more furiously.

💥💥Katsuki Bakugo💥💥

Katsuki loves concerts. You know this because he's dragged you to countless shows across the past 6 months of dating. He loves all genres of music - pop, rock, sad boy emo, heavy metal. You name it - he's heard it. Even so, you're a little apprehensive to ask him to go to the Eras Tour with you. It just doesn't seem like his scene - glittery, screaming fans making heart eyes and painting "13s" on their hands just seems like something he would not enjoy.

"Hey dumbass! Why didn't you tell me you got Taylor Swift tickets!?" Katsuki angrily bursts into your dorm room one Friday night, looking pissed as usual.

"What? Who told you?" You look up from your laptop, surprised.

"Mina! She said you've had them for weeks! Why wouldn't you tell me?" He sounds more hurt than angry now.

"Kats...I didn't think you'd be interested to be honest!" You get up and cross the room, taking his face in one of your hands. "Do you want to go?"

"Not if I'm your second choice!" He's defensive, but his face has softened at the physical contact.

"Babe - you're always my first choice. I just didn't think you'd enjoy her music style and all of the girly vibes." You pull him into your room and shut the door to keep nosy dorm-mates at bay. You motion for him to sit down in your desk chair and you hop onto your bed.

"That's pretty sexist of you!" He has you there.

"Kats - do you want to go or not?"

It turns out Katsuki has been trying to get Eras Tour tickets for months but to no avail. He is dying to go to this show since it's being lauded as "the biggest stadium tour since The Beatles played Shea Stadium!" As a music lover, it would be a crime to miss such a spectacle.

A week leading up to the concert, you can tell he's getting pretty excited. He's made you read through the setlist with him at least twice. He's trying to guess what the surprise song might be - hoping you get to hear something exclusive so that he can brag about it online. You laugh at this - even with concerts he's so damn competitive.

You're most surprised when he shows up at your door one day with a big cardboard package from Etsy. "I got us some shirts for the concert." he says gruffly, pushing his way into your room. He pulls out two dark purple tees - one that says "Karma is My Boyfriend" and the other stating "I'm the Boyfriend" in bold font. He smiles sheepishly up at you, a rare moment of vulnerability as he waits for your approval. "Katsuki...these are so cute! Literally this is perfect." His mouth quirks up into a smile at the praise, he's clearly pleased with himself.

Before you know it, you're taking a couples pic in front of the stadium in your matching purple Karma shirts and jeans. You snap a few pictures and press your lips to the side of his jaw, leaving a ruby red lipstick stain. "Ugh - come on!" he groans, wiping the lipstick off his face with the back of his hand. He makes a show of being annoyed, but you know he secretly loves being doted on like this.

He goes crazy during the show - he's extra appreciative of the pyrotechnic display during Bad Blood. He gets especially quiet during the Folklore era, and you can see how much he loves watching the grace of the dancers as they swirl across the stage during The Last Great American Dynasty.

You notice that he loves watching you dance and belt out the lyrics to every. single. song. He has this adoring look on his face as he looks at you. You knew he loved going to concerts - but you quickly realize that he loves going to concerts to spend time with you.

At the end of the night, he pulls you into an Uber and plants a soft kiss on your mouth in an unexpected show of public affection (Katsuki is not huge on PDA, he prefers private moments of intimacy with you). "Thanks so much for bringing me, babe. I can't even describe how much I enjoyed that show. Did you see the flamethrowers during that one song!? Insane!" Katsuki has glitter in his hair, and a smile stuck on his face.

You spend the rest of the ride home recounting favorite moments from the show and grinning at each other.

52 notes · View notes

jariten · 10 months

Text

May-July 2023 roundup

Okay little by little preparing for regular posting on this blog to resume and thought I'd start with catching up on the roundups!

Midori no Uta by Taiwanese Yan Gao, who first garnered attention for illustrating the original Japanese edition of Haruki Murakami's Abandoning a Cat: Memories of my Father, tells the story of college student Lü after she moves to Taipei for university. There she spends less time on academic pursuits and more on music live shows. She then meets Nanjun, an amateur musician who shares his love of music with her. This leads her on a trip to Japan to look for the band Happy End's album Kazemachi Roman, which leads her to an instant love for Harumi Hosono and his music, and her first infatuation as she grows closer to Nanjun. This is maybe the first Taiwanese comic I've ever read and I loved every second of it. The Japanese translation was really great. Beautiful naturalistic cityscapes and I really adored how Lü's emotions were depicted. Everything Yan Gao was referencing was very interesting too. I love a college coming of age too. I really really hope someone takes the initiative to license it and that she gets another tankobon out soon.

Mermaid Scales and the Town of Sand by Yoko Komori was also a lovely little coming of age, although at an elementary school level. I really want even more understated but impactful stories like this on the english market and I'm really happy this one got licensed despite its age (it first came out in 2013). And speaking of more understated stories, Frieren by Kanehito Yamada and Tsukasa Abe is soooooo good. Def a worthy comparison to a series like Delicious in Dungeon with how it is an earnest fantasy that decides to approach the staples of the genre from a novel perspective, altho I love how the atmosphere and tempo is completely different, really recommend for anyone who likes more low energy or relaxing stories. And PLEASE anime fans please watch the adaption when it premieres this fall!!!

I also in this period really enjoyed reading Ai ga Areba Ii no da by Ikuemi Ryou. This year I've read so much text heavy manga so reading one with a lot of silent panels and textless sequences was so refreshing, and really moved Ikuemi up on my priority list, I'm really looking forward to reading more.

Yoko to Tora by Fuyuko Kurosaki was another fun surprise in the sense that honestly when I pick up 4-koma on a whim I don't expect too much (Making Azumanga Daioh my first kinda set the expectations too high), and its no Azumanga but I still found myself wanting to recommend it. Imagine if you will a world where cats are plushie shaped and have the general intelligence of a child meaning they can understand and make themselves understood to humans without speaking, they go to school, and have friends they like to hang out with. This is the world of Yoko and Tora and all of their friends. Much like Chiikawa its the little world building details that elevate it from just another cutesy comedy. But don't get me wrong it is a cutesy comedy.

On a whole other track, Keimusho no Naka by Kazuichi Hanawa (licensed as Doing Time back in 2004), was a really fascinating depiction of life in prison as told by a man who had to do time over illegal weapon possession charges. The vivid details of the interior of the prison and the oppressive routines they had to endure from the people who run it was very enlightening. Not to mention Hanawa's artistic talent is like, crazy to me.

I'm still not making promises but posting on here is something that I want to do, so I'd like to ask if there's a preference to consistent posting (queue running consistently over the span of weeks) or if occasional sporadic bursts (queue runs inconsistently or just for a couple of days at a time) is fine too

#recommendation corner #my scans #frieren cover i had to download bc i borrowed it from the library #long post

83 notes · View notes

writingseaslugs · 1 year

Note

Crowley | SFW | Drabbles - Slow dancing on the kitchen tiles, Reader isnt/hasnt been a student at NRC but maybe Staff like the Nurse?

Oh no, I made him soft! Also totally almost forgot to post this up today whoopsie daisy. Been a super slow day for me just chilling. Will probably get to writing tomorrow but gloomy, kinda snowy days just make me so lazy.

Disclaimer: This is an AU of Twisted Wonderland where all characters (minus Ortho) are 18+. If you’d like more information about the AU, please refer to the links below!

Request Information | AU Information | Masterlist

Dire Crowley: Slow Cooker

“I thought you wanted to eat something for dinner.” You said, feeling Crowley’s hand on your lower back, the other coming over to clutch onto your hand. The gentle piano music filtered through your shared kitchen as he slowly danced with you, guiding you easily on the kitchen floor. You weren’t glamorous at the moment, in fact you were still wearing an apron, yet somehow you felt like you were at a ball.

“I do, but it’ll take a while for it to cook.” He said, going to dip you. You chuckled as you were brought back up, his hand squeezing your own as he smiled, “Aren’t I so generous to help entertain you while you wait for the food to finish?” He asked next and you let out a small huff of amusement.

“Oh so generous. Whatever would I have done without you here?” You said a bit sarcastically, making the overgrown raven pout, “I’m just kidding, Dire, I’m enjoying myself right now…it was just unexpected is all.”

“What is life if not unexpected?” He said and another amused huff escaped you. You two stopped dancing as the song came to a close and he began letting go of you, but you decided to wrap your arm around his neck.

“If you’re feeling generous enough…could I get a kiss tonight as well?” You asked, batting your eyelashes and Crowley smiled. He leaned down to kiss you, but you stopped him, “Without the mask please, I don’t want my eyes getting poked out.” You scolded.

“Fine.” he said, taking off the mask and revealing his handsome face. Why he always covered it was beyond you, but you didn’t mind. You were the only one who ever got to see him like this, so it always felt special. His lips found your own in a quick but sweet kiss that you melted into instantly. As soon as your lips met though, you heard the chime of the oven going off.

“Ah, that’s my queue…thanks for the distraction, Dire.” You said, giving him another soft kiss, “Go set the table and I’ll bring out the food.”

#Twisted Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST #TWST x Reader #TWST Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland Disney #TWST Disney #Dire Crowley #Dire Crowley t x Reader #Crowley x Reader #TWST Riddle #Twisted Wonderland Dire Crowley #TWST Dire Crowley #Twisted Wonderland Crowley

97 notes · View notes

thediktatortot · 3 months

Text

Putting out feelers for a Harringrove, Steddie or some Harringroveson friendship The Last Of Us Au Rp. I’ve been trying to get myself back into writing after this winters bout of depression so I need something I can chip away at with someone. I have a NSFW Rp going on with someone else atm, so I’m looking for someone very Gen for this one (though I still want there to be like…romantic tension and all that good stuff.)

Looking for something either medium or long story idea wise. Low pressure to respond, I can sometimes need a few days reprieve from writing, so no pressure for having to wait between posts. I can also get into the groove, so if you get into a groove no shame lol. EST hours.

I wrote up an opening already because I was inspired, so just hit me up if you are interested. I’m primarily asking Mutuals.

I had a partially thought of story idea for a TLOU crossover where Steve and Billy end up meeting up in the open world, probably a smaller city where Steve was separated from the kids and the other adults at some point in time but he learned about where they were taken, somewhere up northern to another GQ zone that's much bigger and is run by more official government so it's assumed to be 'safer' though it's not necessarily, but it's still pretty heavily guarded. Billy is ALSO trying to get there, but for very different reasons (I imagine he's apart of the fireflies in this only because he doesn't agree with Fredra's ways and he is a survivalist). He got seperated from his partner Eddie who was taken by raiders and he's trying to track him down since he had the information they needed to bring down that particular section of Fedra.

Billy has been unfortunately wounded and is holed up in a house/building somewhere to heal, rationing his food before Steve comes along and finds him. They get into a fight obviously, or Billy traps him or catches him off guard but they eventually figure out they aren't going to kill each other.

Steve is open, too open and just happy to see people and tells Billy all about the kids and his adult friends and how he's desperate to find them and be reunited with them. Billy of course, at first, takes advantage of his naivety bc he doesn't know this guy from adam and he needs help to get what he needs. So he tells Steve he'll guide him to the GQ if only they go after to save his partner.

Queue adventure.

——

Steve stepped up to the entrance of what looked like an old dollar store, glancing side to side down the road to make sure there wasn't anyone watching where he was going before he adjusted the backpack against his shoulders and pushed the old glass door open. It creaked on it's hinges causing him to cringe, stopping so there was just enough space for him to squeeze himself through before closing the door once again.

He'd been safe so far, strayed away from populated areas after escaping the Indiana GQ zone, stuck to dense forests and mountains before walking large swaths of flat grasslands that made up the Iowa state. Or at least, he hoped he was in Iowa, seeing as he'd never used a map before his escape from Fedra's walls.

"*fuck*." Steve whispered to himself, staying quiet as he listened for any movement inside the smaller building, eyes raking through the pilfered racks of old junk food and magazines. Nothing was ever easy, nothing was quiet and nothing ever turned out right if he was to believe the people in Fedra, their propaganda on staying in the safe zones they'd made for the people of this world.

Safe was relative in this life, seeing as Fedra had done their own fair share of destruction and killing to rival the infection.

Steve wished he saw what the world before looked like, seen it in magazines some of the other boys in the GQ had found after coming back from illegal trips outside the walls. It was...colorful back then it seemed, lights everywhere, music and noise, no one afraid to step outside their door in fear of getting bitten or raped by the many monsters that existed in this world.

But he'd never get to see that so he pushed on, ruffling his hair of the dust that fell down from the top of the old door and coated him, leaning down to pick up a piece of debris to toss into the back of the store.

Nothing. No movement.

"Fucking finally." Steve sighed, rubbing a dirty hand over his stubbled face as he walked further into the old store. He was exausted and hungry, his rations getting smaller and smaller by the day and he knew he needed the energy to spend a few days resource gathering but he'd only manage to do it if he had a nights rest. Sleeping on top of box trucks and in trees wasn't really a way to get a full eight hours of shut eye.

"Ok...search, secure, sleep." Steve mumbled to himself, having been alone for a while now that it was the only way he got to hear another voice. "Maybe you'll get lucky." He huffed, fingers sliding along the metal shelf as he walked the isle slowly. "Maybe this time you might find some expired boxes of crackers or something- *oh* or maybe-" Steve moved quicker to the back of the store, his eyes lighting as he saw a can on the ground, the top unopened.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #eddie munson #harringrove #steddie #harringroveson #stranger things #role play

11 notes · View notes

writing-for-life · 5 months

Text

Thank you for an amazing 2023!

About metas, fics and sparkly things…

This won’t be short, but you wouldn’t expect that from me, would you? 🤣

I’ve been on Tumblr for just a bit over a year because I needed to get off my family’s back after my three decades long Sandman brain-rot got worse again due to the Netflix series. I hovered around a handful of followers for months until things exploded (I still don’t know why tbh, I think it was one particular meta that kicked things off a bit), and I somehow ended up with hundreds of followers, which might not be much to some, but it’s a lot for me.

So to all of you I’d like to say: Thank you for being here. I don’t always manage to stay on top of things because my notifs are a mess and I lose track, plus I have a rather busy life and can often only write in batches and then queue, but each of you is appreciated, even if I accidentally forget to get back to you or if we aren’t mutuals.

I’ve made such lovely connections over the last year—my interest in The Sandman definitely does not align with the main focus that shan’t be named, and I’m glad that you folks are out there. You probably know who you are.

Now to the obligatory “your posts wrapped” thing—and I’m only doing it because I need to make a point (of course I do 🤣).

News and art

My by far most successful posts have been casting/shooting news and pretty pictures (two examples are linked). And I’m grateful for all the reblogs and likes of those, but apart from curating them, they’re not really me. They’re someone else’s work.

Meta analysis

Then you have my metas, which make up the bulk of the other posts that are doing quite well (you can find all of them in my pinned post).

Even if it wasn’t my most “successful” one (what does that even mean?), this one meant the most to me:

I love writing metas, whether they cover literary concepts, psychology, music or art because I’m a permanently brain-frazzled multi-hyphenate who has to talk about everything that won’t leave her alone.

I also love when you’re sending me asks btw. For the latter, I hope they pick up again in 2024 because they really nosedived since I switched off anonymous asks (which I won’t change, soz) after some people just thought it’s good sport to be an arse about my not being here to pray at the altar of the ship. I guess we have briefly covered the ugly side of Tumblr, too, then.

Writing

But what I'm most proud of when I think of all the things I've done in 2023 is my fiction and poetry. And that's both a happy and slightly sad thing to address.

My 31 Haikus for Sandtober started as a bit of fun, but they’ve developed a life of their own, and people seemingly liked them. The post also contains a bit of my fan-art:

I still intend to turn them into a hardcover at some point, but I won’t be able to create all the artwork myself, so if you’re a fan-artist and want to know what I’m thinking of, please get in touch (I’ll still talk about this in more detail at some point though).

The other thing I’m incredibly proud of is “The Light of Stars”.

I started it as a NaNoWriMo project in 2022 (I always use NaNo to do something that is less stressful than my professional writing projects), wrote it in a bit more than a month—and then did nothing with near 80,000 words until June 2023.

And then I thought “Fuck it,” and published it on Ao3. It’s a canon x OC fic, and this is where it gets a bit sad. Because for most of us writers, these are never the posts that get most engagement (the ratio is really something like 100 : 1 — 500 for a shitpost, 5 for an average writing post).

On Ao3, it gradually picked up because I published chapter after chapter, and I think I can say that it’s done fairly well over there in terms of engagement for an OC fic, and above all how people engage with it. Because it’s a bit deeper despite being romance, it deals with heavy topics like grief, and I’m so glad to have touched a few people’s hearts with it, and that it was meaningful to them. So much so that you all convinced me to write a sequel.

But here’s the thing: The general engagement with writing, especially non-explicit, non-ship, non-readerY/N on Tumblr is very, very low.

Writers who write canon x OC are still struggling to be heard through the noise (it’s not just me, I’ve had many conversations about this, so I’ll just say: I’ll speak for many of us). There are basically hardly any events for us to participate in (most of us only ever do so if we shift to canon one-shots, poetry or metas. If we don’t: Again, no one cares), and fandom often actively chooses to ignore us because “all OCs are self-inserts, ew.” Which is patently not true, and I could go on a long rant now why many canon x canon fics are very obvious self-inserts, which I won’t.

But even if all OCs were self-inserts, even if all characters were—so what? All writing is to a degree based on self-insertion because it comes from our brains—it’s not a bad thing. But apparently, it becomes a bad thing if the character is an OC, heaven knows why.

So if I had one wish (I’m allowed one, right?) for 2024, it would be that people engage more with OC fics and include them more in community events. That fandom, which prides itself in community, includes writers who don’t write for (the main) ship/s a bit more, especially if they don’t write smut (which I personally even do professionally, but I don’t want to have to do it in fanfic just to get engagement). I’m not holding my breath because I know that’s not where fandom’s oft single-minded focus lies, but a girl can dream, right?

And with that, I want to get to my proudest accomplishments of them all:

Being the curator queen of the sparkle realms:

Being one (arguably the main) instigator of the maddest crack ship that has ever graced (?) the face of the earth, spawned the most unhinged discussion (much truth in it though 🤣) and even NSFW fanart. I promise I’ll write that fic about Murphy and his Cool Hat:

Have a lovely 2024!

#2023 wrapped #the sandman #sandman #sandman meta #sandman fanfiction #sandman fanart #sparkle content #sparklecontent #murphy and his cool hat

13 notes · View notes

songsofprotestpeacerevolution · 4 months

Text

Please bear with us...

In the next few days you may encounter "blank spots" in the posts here.

We try to have the queue filled a month in advance. Or at least enough in drafts to make sure everything rolls along nicely.

This tumblr relies heavily on YouTube to keep content brought to you here in order. It helps keep track of what has been played recently and when a theme runs a certain way.

Over a hundred different categories on YouTube. Sorted by subject, artist, title. We've shared links to our lists with other tumblrs - Starting a page on Native Americans, here's the playlist of Indigenous songs. Music about voting, here's that playlist. Doing a piece on Joe Hill, take a look at our labor playlist. LGBTQIA2+ through the years, we've got you covered....

The use of YouTube helped us not repeat the same songs from month to month. Helps us find when a link is broken and to get a working one up. Replace a "album cover" version when a video becomes available.

UNTIL TODAY

Last night around 2 AM our YouTube was working fine. This morning at 8:30 it was gone.

We are not creators. We have used YouTube as a list making holding device. To provide you music/content from their platform, to this one, ultimately driving traffic back to them.

We went to the policy page concerning spam, deceptive practices & scams. Not being creators ourselves, the bulk of it did not pertain to us.

We have appealed.

The reason you gave - "We have reviewed your content & found severe or repeated violations of our spam, deceptive practices & scams policy." I HAVE NOT RECIEVED ANY PREVIOUS NOTIFICATIONS THAT I VIOLATED ANYTHING. If I had I would have corrected it.

I don't make my own content. I have not violated these sections - "Video Spam" Misleading metadata or thumbnails. (I block channels that do.) Scams. (I block channels that do.) Incentivization Spam. (I block channels that do.)

"Comments Spam" I rarely comment. I have NEVER asked for money, promised incentives, claimed to offer full video content, posted links to harmful software or phishing sites, linked to counterfeit stores, invited/asked people to check out my own channel, or post the same comment repeatedly.

"3rd party content" I have never livestreamed anything to another person or platform. I do not use any 3rd party software (not even an adblocker.)

I make lists of music videos for my own private use for a project I am working on.

Got the automated notification that it was recieved.

Now we wait.

Yes we have disagreed vocally about some of YouTube's policies.

The F-bomb banning. Historical photos that can be found all over the web as being "too graphic". Any video that contains scenes from a protest (we don't see them taking down all the news and/or commentary channels for showing the same content.)

We can go on youtube right now & find content that violates youtube policies. Harmful or dangerous content policy Violent or graphic content policies Violent extremist or criminal organizations policy Hate speech policy Misinformation policies Elections misinformation policies Medical misinformation policy

But we get in trouble for violation of a policy that we have never come close to breaking.

From the "Spam, deceptive practices, & scams policies" page. We NEVER recieved any warnings. Just "we have removed your page."

9 notes · View notes

bcntbouquet · 3 months

Note

1. Who has been your favorite muse to play?

2. Do you listen to music while you write? If so, what do you like to listen to?

10. Do you like stylized icons and formatted text or do you prefer to keep things simple?

14. What are five of your favorite ships? (In the rp community or otherwise)

15. What sort of muses do you tend to write?

16. Do you like to queue your replies or just post them when you finish?

17. Do you prefer winging it or plotting everything out?

20. If you could tell your muse something, what would it be?

1. Who has been your favorite muse to play?

I think my first-ever legit rp muse was Herbert West (Re-Animator) and once upon a time, I didn’t really have the urge to write other characters (can’t you even imagine ME writing ONE character now, lmao). The first OC I really got into was my dude Gideon Brady, so he was my favourite for years—Then I found my way to Supernatural and Dean Winchester was the most at-home I’d probably ever felt in ANY muse ever to that point. Probably stayed that way until some time in 2023. I’ve created dozens of ocs and even quite a number of canon muses since then, but late last year I started writing Brian (Brain Damage) and Aylmer (Brain Damage) and I became very attached very quickly; around the same time, I decided to explore my under-used oc Derward (created c. 2022) and I find he’s easiest to write at this particular time in my life. I also enjoy playing Wonka a whole lot—because he’s so positive and optimistic—but it’s been brought to my attention that Derward and I share a lot of similarities—Which, I suppose, explains why he's become my default muse these days.

2. Do you listen to music while you write? If so, what do you like to listen to?

Yes, I listen to music about 50% of the time that I write. A lot of 80s pop, rock, and new wave ngl. But there's other kinds I listen to, of course. The rest of the time I watch movies while writing… I know, you’d think it would distract me from the text, but most of the time films get me in that creative zone with any combination of setting, music, story, cast, etc.

10. Do you like stylized icons and formatted text or do you prefer to keep things simple?

To quote Slugworth— “A good chocolate should be SIMPLE. Un-complicated.” I will admit I have a hard time reading/seeing (highly) formatted text. Bold, italics, colours, and certain fonts; those are all find by me. As for stylized icons… What’s even the point? Frankly, it’s lost on me. A visual should be just that. Any image or gif that takes interpretation in order to figure out what’s being presented doesn’t really belong… as it serves no purpose to enrich either the details of the narrative or the muse being portrayed. Granted, this is only my personal opinion. If stylized iconography somehow makes your creative juices flow, fellow writers... go for it. You do you. The rpc should always be an inclusive place.

14. What are five of your favorite ships? (In the rp community or otherwise)

Call me biased or indecisive af, but I hold all my ships dear. Romantic or platonic. I just love all my ships- as well as my shipping partners. Lil' shout out to @cvpidswings, @everyoneismytoy, @smolcuriouskitten, @rawbutprecious, and @frcsttitan. Everybody else I ship with, love you too.

'nother lil' shout to @cursedvessels and @miidnighters—Shimi and Callisto are one of my favourite duos in the rpc atp and I love reading about their joint antics. A canon ship I love is Zed and Addison from Zombies.

15. What sort of muses do you tend to write?

Difficult to say... I don't find myself defining any of my muses by type. If I had to take a guess, I'd say kindhearted people with emotional trauma? Again, IDK.

16. Do you like to queue your replies or just post them when you finish?

I'm a slow writer, so I usually post when I've finished a draft. I already keep people waiting a while for a reply due to my inherent speed, so a regular queue would just make things even slower.

17. Do you prefer winging it or plotting everything out?

It just depends on the situation in the rp; during a lot of threads, I do well with a mix of winging it and plotting. 90% of the time, though, it's winging it. My muses are all control freaks in that they're usually more cooperative when I don't involve myself XD

20. If you could tell your muse something, what would it be?

Derward hasn't felt much love in his life, or support. He isn't the type to give up in any situation, but he probably really needs to hear that he's both wanted and needed. I think little compliments would serve him well, too. Maybe tell him that he's cute or that his hair/clothes are nice. He wouldn't always believe me about his clothes, 'cause he tends to wear tattered stuff throughout his various verses, but... If I could give him a big hug, I would. I'd give him a nice smooch on the cheek, too. Maybe wrap a blanket around his shoulders. That said, he should allow himself to put his burdens down from time to time. He's strong, and he knows this. What he doesn't know, however, is that he CAN be weak. He CAN be vulnerable. I would, hopefully, convince himself to free himself of such pressure. Dude needs a good cry five minutes ago.

#ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰᵒᶜᵒˡᵃᵗᵉ

4 notes · View notes

worddevourer · 1 year

Text

AFK

My friend’s been AFK in the discord chat for 10 minutes. He said he’d be back, just a trip to the bathroom. I guess he’s distracted, I could kick him, queue up, but I’ll wait for a few. It’s a shame, if I’m honest, the update’s just out, and the longer we wait, the more likely something turns out unstable, and the game goes offline.

My friend’s been AFK in the discord chat for 2 hours. I gave up after an hour of waiting, and left him deafened and muted alone. I joked about it with my friends that he’s not going to get much socializing alone in chat like that. He’s been marked as idle for a while now, so I can’t help wondering where he’s gone.

My friend’s been AFK in the discord chat for a day. Despite my best efforts, I can’t help being a little bit worried. He’s online probably more than he should be, but now his account icon hasn’t shifted from a little yellow circle saying he’s idle. This is the day of the week where we pull up the watch-together channel and the whole server watches dumbass memes together. We use a different channel tonight.

My friend’s been AFK in the discord chat for two weeks. There are thoughts at the back of my head that I haven’t put in chat, even in the vent channel. I already know I’m not the only one thinking it. We don’t use that voice channel now. Instead, we use the one we named ‘barnacle-brain-refuge’ after needing somewhere to kick someone while he was drunk off his ass. We could kick him from the general channel, but we don’t. Somehow, it feels better to see him there than the alternative.

My friend’s offline. We don’t know why. There were thunderstorms in the area he lives in. It could be that his computer lost power. I want to call check the outage reports in his area, but I only know he’s in Iowa. I don’t have an address, or even a zip code. He never shared his phone number. He never needed to. It’s stupid to worry, of course; he’s just a guy I friended because he could play support like a god, and we needed someone like that to queue with.

My friend’s still offline. It’s been two months now, and a friend who doesn’t post often asked where he went. We had to tell him the truth; we don’t know. We don’t know how to find out. We have a first name, a user id. No other shared servers. No outside connections. I’ve stopped expecting him to come back.

My friend’s offline. It’s been a year, and we never said goodbye. We don’t know what happened. All we know is that he’s gone. He still has his server roles, including the one that’s just an insult. He’s still got permission to tell the music bots what to play, even though the music bot we were using got banned off of discord. Even his avatar is still that dumb edit we made of his favorite character offering the viewer weed. It’s just an offline username in the sidebar, but I can’t bring myself to touch it. When he walked away from the keyboard, what happened? I’ve run the question back and forth through my skull until it’s 2AM and I know I’ll be exhausted at work, but I never get an answer.

I never will.

#So I was thinking about the tenuous nature of knowing someone online #And uh...#I proceeded to make this #short fiction

31 notes · View notes

somberauthor · 3 days

Note

so i was looking at your ‘what i write for’ list and saw helluva boss and nobody has asked you for any(to my knowledge), and i kinda want to change that. Could you maybe do an Octavia one where reader shares music with her? it would be platonic, and maybe you could make it kinda angst-y???(if you’re comfortable with that of course!!).

I'M SO SORRY FOR LIKE... NOT POSTING FOR A WHILE (I do that a lot and it's kinda not good chat...) I'm here now though, and I'm on summer break so I SHOULD be able to like... get through all of my requests now. BUT YEAH PLS ENJOY MY PROJECTION ONTO OCTAVIA!!!

You had been friends with Octavia for a while now. Neither of you could remember how at this point, you just spawned in each others lives one day and you two just couldn't be separated. You two had just met up at your house, talking about non-important things.

You both just stopped talking as you closed the door to your room, the silence quickly becoming unnerving. You cleared your throat as you went to your laptop, listening to Octavia shuffle onto the bed. There was a lot of teenage awkward tension in the air, and no matter how good of friends you two may have been, Teenage awkwardness never leaves until graduation.

''What music do you like listening to?'' you had asked this question many times before but she'd just respond with a shrug and just a simple ''rocks cool, but i dunno.''. This time was different though.

''I like the band Fuck You Dad. It's kinda... Metal-ish? I'm not sure what genre it would fall into other than metal.'' She shrugged, leaning up. The tension was still in the air due to the silence of no one moving, but it was lifting with every sound made.

''You want me to put the band on? I'll show you some of my favorites after if you'd like.'' You spoke, looking for the band's account on your favorite music platform.

''Sure. Put on the song My World Is Burning Down Around Me.'' She fiddled with her sleeve, seeming almost uncharacteristically afraid to say the title. I mean, it certainly was a title. It almost made you worried about her, but you'd rather just listen to the music before making yourself worried over something so little as music. You've thought for so long that you've found the song and your cursor is just... hovering over it. You found it almost a minute ago, and now the computers just getting antsy.

You click on the play button, letting the song begin and rush out of your speakers. She definitely wasn't lying when she said it was metal. You queue up some of your sad songs, so she didn't have to be the only vulnerable one. Once you finished up with the queue, you went and sat down next to her. You two spoke occasionally, the both of you much more focused on the music than simple conversation.

Once the song ended, a different song began, one that you happened to relate deeply to. You looked at her, sudden fear struck you. It was about the issues with your parents, and the fact your mother was a raging asshole. You looked over at Octavia, making sure she didn't seem bored or seem worried or upset. She seemed lost in thought, you just looked around.

''Y'know... I've never heard this song, what is it called?'' She looked over at you, snapping herself out of whatever trance had caught her attention. You jump ever so slightly at her voice. You answer her with a smile, looking over at her.

''Why do you ask?'' You ask, a quizzical expression carved on your face.

''I... I relate to it.'' Your eyes widen slightly, she had the same struggle? Nice. Or uh. Not nice?

''Same. You really need to catch me up on the Octavia Lore.'' You chuckle, earning a snicker from the owl next to you.

''Yeah like I'm the one who's secretive about my mom.'' It's true she complained as things were happening but... She had never told you about her childhood with her mother.

''Well... uh... hush.'' You chuckled once again, all the tension and anxiety melting away all at once with a single smile.

You two were gonna be inseparable for as long as you two knew each other.

#authors #ao3 #fanfic #helluva boss #helluvaboss #helluva octavia #octavia goetia #octavia #helluva boss stella #octavia x reader #octavia goetia x reader #im sorry if she's out of character this is a lot of projection

3 notes · View notes

lune-de-miel-au-paradis · 7 months

Text

Red as crimson, green as jade and gold confetti rain

Summary: Nina just wanted a night out with her best friend , to dance a little and release all her pent up frustraiton of her stressful life. However, she meets a pair of particularly captivating eyes and their owner.

Pairing: Darth Maul x OC Nina Cerasus

Warnings: Mention of dealing with illness, anxiety, trust issues, daddy issues, alcohol use. (Let me know if I left out something.)

AN: This fic means a lot to me and I worked on it a lot. If you have any advice or comments, please share them with me kindly. I'm posting for the first time in years and I don't want nasty comments to discourage me from posting again. If you don't like it, please go to another blog. I did my best to translate it, so pls forgive me, English is not my first language. Moodboard made by me, pictures from Pinterest. Please enjoy reading!

previous chapter

It was late, just the time when night stretched its dark substance across the sky. The three moons in different moon phases illuminated the night above the city of Theed. Despite the night, the streets were not deserted. This is when the streets near the city's university center really started to come alive. The streets were full of cheerful young people and many other species going from one place to another to have fun. For those who liked to relax but in a more peaceful environment, there were art bars and night cafes. Here it was possible to chat cheerfully, take part in a slam poetry evening, and play various games such as dejarik or sabacc. However, the back streets were filled with entertainment places where you could dance and drink. One of the best such places was the Pantheon. With it’s ornate columns and carvings, Naboo paid tribute to the ancient culture. It is both a reminder of the past and a monument to the future.

Inside, however, neon lights flickered and illuminated the dancing bodies on the dance floor. The place had a good reputation not only because the best DJs and bands held concerts here every night and served the most special drinks from faraway places, but it was also notorious for it’s serious security. There was no place for mischief and fights here. The security guards immediately threw out the troublemakers. Jedi were not welcome here, although they were not banned either. But the entertainers did not miss the superior judgment from those "monks”, it was way more exclusive anyway for them.

It was also forbidden to take pictures inside, so all objects suitable for taking photos were confiscated in a safe at the entrance.

After all, descendants of royal families and serious diplomats and bankers also had fun here. If you did not arrive with the right company or your name was not on the list, you could go to another place. Because baby, this is not a place for you.

The music echoed outside and reached her like a distant throb as she walked toward the queue. She doubles her pace because she knows she's a little late, she's been studying for too long. Her high heels clatter on the cobbled street, and her dark hair waves behind her shoulders from the movements of her haste. She hears a familiar voice, slows down with a smile and walks to the front of the line, where her dear friend Polina cheerfully waves to her.

It wasn't hard not to notice the girl. Polina was a little taller than average, her messy bob was pink, and her charisma oozed cheerfully around her like a sweet scented love potion. Her smile was easily contagious to others, she could also be very serious when it came to business, and if she was in a cranky mood the maker would beware of those vampire teeth.

But tonight was about relaxing and having fun.

"Over here! Little miss Always-late-Nina has finally arrived." she stretched out her long arms, hand in hand to help her friend crossing the cordon, shiny colorful thin bangles jingled on her wrists.

"You are not very funny." she rolled her eyes as answer. "I told you I would get here sooner or later. And it really doesn't matter since you put our names on that list."

"You look hot. I'm glad you bought the dress" her pink haired friend made a motion with her arm that spun Nina around.

"Me too"

After receiving the characteristic laurel wreath-patterned gold seal on their wrists, they walked in. With each step, the music became louder, first just a thump, then the beat and finally the rhythm reached them. The sound of the music almost collapsed on them. The whole room shakes with the power of the bass. The reflectors flash in shades of blue, purple, pink and white. Moving landscapes are projected onto the walls, creating the illusion that sinful souls are partying in the dense depths of a grove, a rainforest, the sand dunes and remote tropical beaches.

The crowd writhes, dances, bodies jump to the rhythm, bartenders in elegant clothes pour expensive drinks. The musicians rule the mood of the crowd like gods. The entertainment venue could be divided into three parts, the dance floor, the bar with its counter and the platform where the musicians and DJs were. The plan was simple to get a few drinks and become one with the dancing crowd. Maybe making out with a handsome male.

Nina ordered two drinks. It happened without words, there was no point in trying to shout over the noise. The girl signaled with her hand in a peculiar way, then swiped her card through the payment terminal. There was no possibility of cash here. The bartender mixed the drinks with spectacular movements, using all of his four arms. He could have been a separate spectacle, he was so precise that not a drop of drink was spilled, but thanks to his speed, they barely had to wait a few minutes when he handed them to the girls. Laughing, they lifted it up and drank it. Alcohol warms them like a liquid fire, their stomachs almost seem to be on fire too. On their tongues, they feel the sweet taste of cherries and the drink's special secret twist, the golden spice. It was a milder, refined version of the usual spice, legal in small quantities when mixed into a drink, but it was rather called by it’s name. So if someone wanted a special drink, they had to show the code name with their hand.

Nina asked for two Jupiter’s twist.

"I love this place! One day I'll open one like this too. Cool music, good drinks, secret hand signals. And only special people will come in, full of interesting and sexy people." Polina shouted into Nina's ear.

"If you're just having fun and not studying for the exams, I doubt that you'll have a chance to open a place like this without a good job."

"Hey, this isn't fun! I'd rather call it brainstorming! They don't teach that in marketing school! Where else would I get special ideas and useful tips, if not directly on the ‘field’? This is an internship, exactly as you will soon have to go." Polina is satisfied with the presentation of her own point of view, and after more sips she adds, "look, it's the same. I even pay for the drink in addition to the entrance fee.”

After the drinks, they went straight to the dance floor. They blend into the dancing crowd with ease. Everyone is beautifully dressed, moving in their own way to the beat of the music. There are even people dressed in costumes among them. Polina completely surrenders to the rhythm. Her every move is attention-grabbing. Nina takes two short drinks from a tray and they chug them. She moves her hips with ease and confidence, her arms snake around seductively. She throws her hair back and enjoys the way her dress hugs her body, the light reflecting off the silver dress as if it were a live disco ball. The dress is made up of small hexagon-shaped mirror panels, the mini skirt continues in an x shape, covering her two breasts, and forms a strap behind the neck. Her back is completely uncovered, her tattoo is visible. On her side and belly the intersections of the dress form triangular holes leaving her skin uncovered in those places. A transparent tulle-like material falls from under the skirt. Small hexagon-shaped crystals also sparkle on the edge of the bottom of the dress. It barely covers the strappy shoes she decided to wear tonight.

Her cocktail dress is definitely pretty, but not as flashy as the looks of the nobles here. Still, she feels very pretty and watches amusedly as the light from the dress's mirrored panels spills onto the wall and onto the dancers. She jumps and dances with Polina. The heat begins to bloom between their ribs. They dance until their feet hurt. They are surrounded by tangled limbs and perfumed necks. Glitters and jewels shine everywhere from the colorful canvases on which they are sewn. Even though Nina's skin is forming a thin layer of sweat and the air is getting more stifling, she doesn't stop. She feels free and careless. The problem is that it only lasts for a short time. She feels the anger that has been building up for years inside of her. No matter how much she dances, runs or gets every good grade, the anger doesn't want to leave her chest. It weighs down her heart from the inside like a millstone.

How much she craves a cigarette! Her surroundings were getting annoying. Too many, too narrow and too groping. While dancing, she thinks about how nice it would be to push the dancers away from her to have some space. Or how nice it would be to break the nose of the male who touches her unsolicited in more intimate areas. She didn't even notice that she clenched her fists and closed her eyes. She lets out a deep breath and pushes those thoughts away.

As she looked up, her jade eyes widened and fixed on another pair of eyes. This pair of eyes is dark and foreboding. They watch her from the darker corners of the club. The owner of the special colored irises is a zabrak species. In black from head to toe, if the lights weren't flashing he would almost completely blend into his dark surroundings. Around him, everyone moves as if he were just a ghost that came back to haunt and which no one can see, even Nina herself did not fall out of rhythm, just only her eyes froze on him. But she keeps eye contact, still. Neither of them blink, neither of them wants to break the spell that has taken over them. Nina was completely mesmerized by the pair of eyes. The outside of the iris was crimson red, and the inside, approaching the pupil, was as golden yellow as sunlight. Despite the low light, they almost glowed. He had the so-called "eyeshine" just like the big phantera cat breeds, about which Nina saw an educational film on the holonet, when she was a little girl.

His gaze is mercilessly fierce on her. He devours inches of her skin from a distance. Like an untamed wild animal that is hungry and wants to satisfy it’s need. Nina just shuddered instead of shaking. She had the bad kind of butterflies in her chest, all of them wanted to burst out of her. She liked this intensity, different from the usual bored or foggy looks and it affected her with a sense of novelty. She was the first to break eye contact, this overheated and attractive staring contest. She lost on purpose to raise their little game to a higher level. She surrendered herself to the beat of the music and elegantly suggested it with her every move.

"Come and play with me if you dare. Come and catch me if you can." Although she only started dating a few years ago, she believed there are two ways to manipulate a man: either to let him pursue you or let him pursue you in a way that makes him feel he's the pursuit.

However, she had to be disappointed, she glanced back stealthily and there was no sign of the male. As if he really was just a ghost, or maybe a projection of her own sinful imagination from the depths of her brain. An imaginary creation that embodied the anger and darkness that lived inside her. Add a little booze and maybe the effects of her medication and she has to decide if she has a vision of a desirable male or a trip to the mental hospital.

She stopped dancing and looked around but did not see the male anywhere. Polina jolted her out of her thoughts.

" You okay?" she gaped at Nina "Shall we relax at the bar for a while?"

Nina just nodded. Polina did not delay, she led her by the hand to a calmer place. The music was a few beats quieter and the air wasn't as dense here. Nina ordered a glass of water and drank it in big gulps. If she's really imagined him, she'd better stay a little more sober and not get off the ground. After all, she came to have fun and the destination was not the hospital.

"I'm so glad we came. I love this band! And did you see that togruta I danced with? He's so handsome, I'm about to cry. He was at least a head taller, and those strong arms... I'd love to climb that tree if you know what I mean…Besides, I heard Queen Padme is here too. She came with several look-alikes, but I think I spotted her, dancing not far from us. That's so cool! We don't have an ordinary queen, do we."

Nina didn't answer, just took a few more sips. Polina suddenly looked at her with concern, motherly and a hint of pity.

" Are you okay? You took your meds today, right? Maker! If you die here, I swear I'll pay a Jedi to raise you up and I'll kill you Nina Cerasus myself with my bare hands and teeth!"

Nina hated that look. Of course, she never said it out loud, but when Polina looked at her like that, or anyone from her circle of friends, she would have preferred to send them to hell. And that certain tone! Like she's just a silly little kid who needs to be reminded of her vitamins. Fuck it! She was no longer a minor or a child, she knows her limits and can take care of herself. This is her life, her illness and her mistakes!

"I'm fine, don't worry! The crowd was just a bit big. Let's go back, everything's fine now."

Polina looked at her in disbelief. Nina smiled despite her annoyance.

"Come on, that certain tree is waiting for you to climb. And I remember you mentioned the queen too..."

This time they didn't dance in the middle, but they actually saw Padmé dancing. Nina also found suitors to dance with. She danced with a human in a flashy navy suit and a blue twi'lek.

The strange pair of eyes reappeared just when she had already forgotten about him. Nina danced with her hips against the Twi'lek, letting him wrap his arms around her waist and they moved together. The male was quite a good dancer. The other held her by the waist, and buried his face in her neck. What a heaven to be! Still, Nina's gaze was caught by something more diabolical.

The zabrak moved through the crowd and approached her in a circle rather than straight towards her. Like when a predator surrounds it’s prey. The male's face was unreadable, but the girl still felt the curiosity and desire in him. So even though she danced with her partner, her performance was for only the zabrak. She moved her hips defiantly, tossed her hair, smiled and enjoyed the music. The girl kept eye contact the whole time, but she didn't forget about her dance partner either. She doesn't want to miss out on her handsome dance partners because of a wandering phantom. During the chorus of the song, they spun her around. Because of this movement Nina moved a little away from them, a little closer to the corner between the side walls, closer to him, the owner of the particular pair of eyes.

Nina felt exactly how close he was to her.

"So here you are. You got me." she thought with a smile.

The composition of the air has changed. It was dense but not suffocating, tingling and dark but still exciting. “I wonder what he will do now?”

Black gloved hands caressed her upper arms from behind. The movement was more subtle than she expected. And surprisingly uncertain. A strong chest stretched against her back, she could feel the strength in his body. Underneath his clothes, he can be all muscle, this thought made her wet in more intimate places. Nina slowed down her movements so that they could find their own pace together. But the male barely moves behind her. The hands slide down slowly to her waist and squeeze her tightly. She feels that on the top of her head, a nose digs into her hair and inhales her scent deeply. Encouraged, Nina slowly circles her hips around the male's groin, reaches back with her hands and touches the male's neck. His skin was warm and soft, despite looking quite rough from a distance. It reminds her of the darkness of the velvety night.

Nina closes her eyes, this is completely different, dancing with him. She hasn't seen her partner's face up close yet, but somehow this whole thing feels so intimate. Her movements are rewarded, the male behind her, lets out a rumbling sound, a growl, which Nina has never heard before, but she already knew that it was the sexiest sound a male could make. His presence was intoxicating. He was a mystery, which was interesting. She found him interesting which was the highest praise from her. Nina closed her eyes, enjoying the two of them swaying to the music, even if they weren't following the beat. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth after letting out a moan as she felt her secret partner press himself even closer to her back. The sound of her moans was probably drowned out by the loud music, but the zabrak still heard it. Nina knew because the gloved hands slid from her waist to her hips.

"How responsive" she thought.

However, she could not control her curiosity any longer so she turned and looked up. Her dance partner was exotically beautiful. Yes, that's what Nina thought of him first. The red-crimson glowing eyes, his tall frame, his broad shoulders and the red and black tattoos peeking out from under his black hood. She raised her fingers to touch the patterns, but instead the zabrak just leaned closer avoiding her touch, making her gasp. There was no kiss, not even their foreheads or bodies touched. But Nina felt his heat emanating from him, and the way they shared almost a breath, was far more intimate and sexy than a real kiss. She simply couldn't take her eyes off him. Her heartbeat quickened when she noticed how he was looking down to her lips. Before they could go any further, there was a bang, at the top beat of the music, Nina flinched a little but looked up with a smile. Gold glittering confetti ribbons rained down on the dancers from the ceiling. Everyone cheered and raised their hands towards the confetti ribbons. Nina did the same, laughing and holding out her arms, but when she looked for the mysterious male's reaction, he was nowhere to be found. The smile fell from her face in disappointment. She looked around, in the crowd, but did not find him.

She tried to make her way through the crowd. She had a strange feeling, perhaps she could have defined it as darkness, near the male, which now disappeared, along with him. Nina was never afraid of the dark, so it didn't bother her. She was more bothered by uncertainty. Did she just imagine it all? The dance, the chemistry, everything? She had already danced out the effects of the drink, so she knew she wasn't drunk or at least not that drunk.. Cheerful and a little buzzed, but definitely not drunk. She found Polina at the bar, who helpfully shook some confetti out of Nina's hair.

"What's with that look? You look as if you saw a ghost. Did someone hurt you? Because if so, then I shall use my fangs..."

"It's okay, I'm fine. Maybe I'm just a little tired. Will you be angry if I go home now?"

“I'll come too, it's getting late." Polina offered.

"It's not necessary, stay and continue your 'search', I'll be fine. I'll see you at home."

"Are you sure?"

"Definitely." nodded Nina.

As soon as she stepped out into the streets, she was hit by the fresh night air, which was just cool enough to provide relief after the hot days and stuffy clubs. She didn't have a coat because she knew she would just lose it. Her feet hurt, so she took off and carried her shoes in her hands, her bare feet were quiet on the cobbled road. She sighed in relief as she felt the pain in her feet slowly disappear and the cold paved road cool her down.

A family got out of a car. Presumably they came from a trip or vacation. Nina toyed with the idea of where they could have gone and how lucky the little girl was to be carried in the arms by her father while she was sleeping, and together with her mother they entered the warmth of the family home.

Her stomach clenched and he swallowed back the urge to vomit.

A different kind of pain took its place. One she didn't want to think about. The second storm in her life. At that time she felt that she was being beaten up by the storms. She had no idea that even all these years later, these wounds would still be painful in her soul. She shook her head, not wanting to think about her father. Anger bubbled up inside her, just at the thought of that man. No, he doesn't deserve to even think about it!

She prefers to go to the nearby cafe that is just about to close, she curiously pressed her nose to the shop window.

"Are you taking anything or just cooling your face?" asked the young man who was at the end of his shift.

A few minutes later, Nina was munching on the cookie, which was dry and filled with vanilla cream, but now that would do. She got home in time, got out of her dress, cursing a little because the zipper pinched the tulle material, she left it on the floor as soon as she freed it and took a nice shower. She had almost used up all the hot water, but Polina would prefer a cold shower anyway.

She put on a comfortable t-shirt and fresh underwear. The T-shirt had the logo of the university and she opened the window of her room, through which she could go out onto the roof. Nina didn't go out, just sat on the windowsill, pulled up one knee and hung the other down outside, leaned her back against the window frame and looked up at the sky. Unfortunately, the sky was cloudy. But the faint outlines of the three moons were drawn across the haze of the evening sky. Just like the dry cookies, this one will do just fine for tonight.

"If this were a movie now, there would definitely be some dramatically melancholic music underlining the present." she thought to herself. But Nina wasn't in a melancholic mood, she was just angry and tired and tired of being angry and angry of being tired. She doesn't plan to go out today, but she saw her father on her way home from the library. He spoke his comlink and seemed happy. He must have been on the phone with his new family. Nina didn't go near him, she didn't even want him to notice her. However, she already knowed that she won't be able to study or rest after this. The usual coping mechanism remains, which means partying with Polina and dancing away all this tension, drinking drinks and maybe have a good fuck with a handsome stranger. She immediately remembered her mysterious partner and a tingle ran down her spine as she replayed the images of the evening over and over in her mind. Polina still didn't see him, but she promised to look into the list of names who were partying there today. She took her datapad and looked up the side effects of her usual medications and lit a cigarette. Of course, none of them recommended taking it with a drink, but based on what was described, enough time had passed for her body to process the ingredients of the medicine, so it could not cause hallucinations, at least not so lifelike.

Nina sighed, pale purple smoke left her mouth.

"Was he real or was it all in my head?"

She didn't even notice that a dark figure was watching her from the shadows from the domed roof of the observatory.

next chapter

Taglist: @stardustbee @hellhound5925 @cloneloverrrrr @firstofficerwiggles @the-chains-are-the-easy-part

Let me know if you want to be add to the list💖

#nika's writing #star wars #darth maul #oc nina cerasus #darth maul x oc nina cerasus #2 chapter #maul x nina #original character #my fic #my oc #starcrossed #starcrossed fic #star wars fanfiction #the phantom menace #backstory for original character

6 notes · View notes