Arashi has officially announced that they will end activities
Throughout my teenage years, I was told that J-pop was a phase. That my adoration for Arashi (and a few others like KAT-TUN...) would be fleeting. But Arashi, they helped me, they saved me, they are part of the safe haven groups that allowed me to have moments of joy during a complicated period.
Yes, the way I express my love for them has changed because I was a teenager and now I'm almost 30. But I still listen to them every day.
It wasn't a phase!
It's been at least 15 years since I discovered Arashi. They were my first dramas, my first drama OSTs, one of my first J-pop groups, my first Japanese actors, and so many other things. Even though the music industry (especially Johnny's) is a little better than before, they deserve to continue their own lives after all these years of loyal service.
Thank you, Arashi, for all these years, you'll continue to be my soul ❤️
Arashi has officially announced that they will end activities
Throughout my teenage years, I was told that J-pop was a phase. That my adoration for Arashi (and a few others like KAT-TUN...) would be fleeting. But Arashi, they helped me, they saved me, they are part of the safe haven groups that allowed me to have moments of joy during a complicated period.
Yes, the way I express my love for them has changed because I was a teenager and now I'm almost 30. But I still listen to them every day.
It wasn't a phase!
It's been at least 15 years since I discovered Arashi. They were my first dramas, my first drama OSTs, one of my first J-pop groups, my first Japanese actors, and so many other things. Even though the music industry (especially Johnny's) is a little better than before, they deserve to continue their own lives after all these years of loyal service.
Thank you, Arashi, for all these years, you'll continue to be my soul ❤️
Just finished watching the live stream of Arashi's final concert ever. It started at 5 am my time and lasted 3 & 1/2 hours.
((cried so much))
I'm so glad I bought a ticket. Living in the USA I've never been to an Arashi concert, & while I still wasn't actually there it was surreal knowing I was watching it in real time & not just a concert DVD recording.
I already said goodbye to them at the end of 2020 when they went on hiatus and hurt a lot. But it somehow hurts even more saying goodbye again even though they only returned for such a short time. I guess it's because this time we know it's for good.
I discovered Arashi in May 2006. Exactly 20 years ago. They brought me so much joy over the years and brought me through so many hard times and this is why saying goodbye is so sad. I'm going to miss them dearly but I know they've already been thriving doing their own thing and they will continue to live their best lives. Thank you so much for everything, Arashi. <3
pairing 𝜗𝜚 off the wall!michael jackson x fem!black!reader
synopsis 𝜗𝜚 when your boyfriend buys you your dream purse, you can’t think of any other way of showing your gratitude.
warnings 𝜗𝜚 dry humping, hints of sugar daddy!michael, shy!michael but not shy!michael at the same time
authors note 𝜗𝜚 first time writing rpf & anything inherently sexual so let’s be nice ! #bringbackdryhumping
word count 𝜗𝜚 1.8k
1980, encino, california
“𝓽he chanel jersey classic bag is to die for.”
michael momentarily stops looking through his vinyl collection on one of his shelves. it wasn’t long enough for you to find it weird, but it was long enough to be noticeable.
“you like it, baby?” he asks.
“i’m obsessed with it,” you exaggerated, shifting to sit up from your lying position on his bed.
“you like it that much?” he hums, and you find it within your self-restraint to not comment on how good his voice sounded whenever he spoke in that low, sultry tone.
you fail to respond to him, only able to look at him from your sitting position on the edge of his bed. instead of maintaining eye contact, he looks away and continues to sift through his vinyls like he’s been doing for the past twenty minutes.
“you’re weird,” you mutter.
“what?”
“you won’t look at me,” he can’t see you, but he already knows there’s a look of mild irritation adorning your face.
“‘cause you’re too pretty, baby,” he coos.
you roll your eyes at his words, although you can’t deny the feeling of warmth that traverses through your body. michael was shy, yet he had a way with words that always seemed to render you speechless.
before you let yourself get too lost in his sweet talking, you remember what the topic was conversation originally was. “the chanel bag is to die for.”
“mhm, i hear you. you want it?” he questions you.
you laugh, automatically assuming he was joking. your smile falters as he turns around to face you and you notice the solemn look on his face. he was serious about this.
“mikey, that’s too much damn money. don’t joke like that,” you chided.
now, michael was the one rolling his eyes. “‘m not joking. y’know i’ll get you whatever you want, baby.”
“the purse is gorgeous but no, i don’t want it. well, i do want it. but i don’t want you spending that much money on me,” you complained.
“we both know i can do more than afford it. let me spoil you,” his luscious voice combined with the endearing look in his eyes was nearly enough to convince you. but, you were determined not to let your boyfriend spend what you saw as ludicrous amounts of money on you.
“jus’ because you can afford doesn’t mean you have to buy it. but i love you for the offer.”
“i love you too, baby. the offer still stands if you ever wanna let me buy it for you,” he teases.
two days later, michael had invited you to hang out at his house like you usually did. the only thing different about this time was that nobody was home.
for the first time in ages, there was no joseph, katherine, jermaine, or anybody. it would just be you in michael alone in his encino mansion. you couldn’t help the lurid thoughts that filled your mind at the thought of you being home alone with your boyfriend for the first time.
arriving at his house, you let yourself in with the key that katherine gave you months ago. she claimed that you were “a part of the family” and you could bear to turn down her offer.
absolute silence was the first, and only thing you noticed when you walked into the house. there was no arguing, no joseph screaming, not even any music playing from a random room in the house.
“hello?” you call out.
nothing. no response from your boyfriend. “mikey?” you call out again. yet you still didn’t hear anything.
without saying anything else, you walk up the stairs to his bedroom. the closer you get to his room, the more you still fail to hear the faintest of noises.
you slowly push his bedroom door half open and you don’t see him. instead, you’re greeted with the exact black chanel jersey classic purse you spoke about mere days ago.
with its quilted exterior, black and gold chain, and gold-plated hardware, it might’ve just been the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. seeing your dream purse in the flesh was enough to render you speechless and leave you frozen.
amidst your admiration for the bag, you failed to notice michael appearing from behind the bedroom door. he had a somewhat smug look on his face like he was more than proud of himself for securing the thing you spoke so highly of.
“you like it, baby?”
“mikey!” you shout, throwing your arms around his neck to engulf him in a hug. “i love it so much, oh my gosh!”
he stumbles back for a moment due to the force with which you threw your body against his. after regaining his composure, he wraps his arms around your lower waist. his hands were splayed dangerously close to your ass, but you couldn’t find yourself to care in the moment.
“michael!” you shout once again. “it’s so fuckin’ cute,” you gushed.
his arms tighten around their place on your waist. then, he walks both of you back to his bed before he takes a seat on the edge of it. he drags you so you’re standing between his legs and his hands rest on your waist.
“you really like it, baby?” he asks.
“mikey,” you place both your hands on his shoulders, “i could kiss you so bad right now. that’s how much i like it.”
“you can’t jus’ say things like that,” he turns his head away from you.
“i mean it. i was jus’ talkin’ about how much i liked this bag a few days ago and you jus’ went and bought it! even though i told you not to,” you mutter the last part.
“i wanted to make you happy,” he turns his head back to you, gaze meeting yours.
you could’ve died where you were standing purely because of the look in his eyes. it was a mix of gratification and altruism. it was like he knew you liked the gift, yet he needed to hear you say it.
“i’m more than happy, mikey. much more,” you finish your sentence with a kiss on his cheek.
he scrunches his nose as your lips come into contact with his face. that only fuels you to continue your tirade on his face. you kiss his cheek, forehead, chin, and eventually his lips.
in the meantime, michael isn’t doing anything but laughing and tightening his grip on your waist. eventually, he flops back onto his mattress and takes you with him.
the two of you are a mix of laughter and the sounds of kisses being placed on michael’s face, purse long forgotten on the bed. you can’t remember the last time you’ve been this content with your life.
“i love you, baby.”
“you know i love you more,” you gush.
you sit up from where you were lying on your boyfriend's chest, and now, you’re straddling him. the atmosphere in the room shifted from what was once playful to something you couldn’t quite place. something much more tense.
“you mean it, baby?” he asks, hands tightening around your waist once again.
you run your hands under his shirt, manicured nails skimming the expanse of his toned stomach. he sucks in a breath at the feeling of your nails on his abdomen.
“of course i mean it.”
“you wanna show me how much you mean it?”
you don’t offer him a verbal response. instead, you rock your hips against his. michael groans at the contact, and it’s a low provocative sound that immediately goes to your core.
you continue your pace, and michael guides you whenever you begin to falter in the slightest. a mess of fluids is beginning to manifest where your hips meet and the room is beginning to get increasingly hot, but at this point, you’re physically unable to stop.
“baby,” he murmurs, “‘m not gonna—“
you rock your hips in a particularly salacious way that leaves him speechless. he’s unable to let out anything but a string of moans and whispers of your name. you’re no better, only being able to whine and whimper “michael!” here and there.
“i’m so close, mikey,” you keen.
“me too, baby. ‘m not gonna last long if you keep moving like that.”
you’re on fire and a wet, sticky mix of both you and your boyfriends' fluids. you’ve given up on your set pace and now, you’re just desperate to move as fast as you can. you’re chasing the friction and satisfaction that you get whenever your core makes contact with his bulge.
michael is a mess of moans and heavy breaths with a grip on your waist that would’ve been painful under any other circumstances. he’s frequently bucking his hips up into you, seemingly chasing the same friction as you.
“you’re so pretty, my baby,” he compliments.
“thank you, mikey. you make me feel so good,” you whimper.
he hums in response, and a distinctly rough thrust into your clothed core is enough to send you both over the edge. your orgasm shakes your entire body and it takes you a few moments to come to your senses.
when you do, michael is still underneath you, chest heaving with each heavy breath he takes. it’s a sticky and slightly uncomfortable spot where both of your hips meet. you’re hot and you know you’re probably sweating as much as he is, yet the only thing that’s on your mind right now is him.
you lean down to where he’s lying and connect your lips to his. the kiss is messy and you can’t feel anything but his tongue against yours and his hands on your waist traveling down to your ass.
you pull away from him in order to catch your breath and he’s already looking at you. wide-eyed and glossed over with swollen lips. you could actually fuck him right now.
“you’re so handsome, mikey,” you swoon.
“thank you, pretty girl. i love you so much.”
“i love you too. ‘n i need you so bad right now,” your hands trail down to the waistband of his sweatpants whilst you speak.
his breathing picks up and for a moment, he says nothing in response to you. “that wasn’t enough?” he asks you.
you almost laughed because no, dry humping wasn’t nearly enough. you needed to have him inside you or you were sure you’d go insane.
“‘s never enough. i need you nowwww,” you drag out the word.
“then take what you need, baby. i’ll buy you every chanel purse in existence if it means i get you like this.”
you smile, but you say nothing as you hook your nails on his waistband and begin to pull them down. he doesn’t need to buy you anything for you to jump his bones, but god, does it help.
Michael, you have God-given talent. And if a person is to make a difference in the world, he must preserve that talent, develop it, and use it for the good of others. Because of your musical talent, you have stirred generations of people all across the world. And for that, history has reserved a page for you in its annals. And then, for your humanitarian acts—for caring about what happens to people, caring enough to do your very best—I assure you that immortality will cradle you gently in its arms, and you will be forever known.
MICHAEL JACKSON honored with the Frederick D. Patterson Award by the UNCF
the concept of cumming in your boxers from your stepbrother choking you out and keeping you locked in his arms until you both fall asleep in his bed…. WOOOOWWWW….
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