#that's the only thing that irks me tbh
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yonemurishiroku · 2 years ago
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OK I don't know much about pop culture but like. I thought Lil Nas X's works are R16 or something? Like. I remembered the first time I watched one of his MVs - the one with Satan - and I backed down because of how... uhm, adult it was?
I mean it's not quite much compared to straight-up NSFW but like. Is it okay to mention him in a kids' book or the US is functioning in a different wavelength from mine?
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chaoticlandworlder · 6 months ago
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Legit so disgusting how so many ppl are jumping at the chance to criticise Max. In the past few days, I've seen so many social media comments calling him names like 'brat', 'manchild', 'immature' etc. + belittling his racing skills.
So many ppl are also completely spinning their own narrative, acting as if Max is the only driver to ever be heated up during a high-adrenaline race. According to them, Schumi, Senna, Lewis etc. have never lost their cool and always take the blame for every single incident. (Note: this is NOT a hate post ok- any driver examples I use is just to show the hypocrisy of these ppl. I mentioned these drivers cuz it's based off genuine comments I saw.)
First of all, Max had every reason to be upset during the race. The major Hungary updates RBR had been hinting at for weeks underwhelmed (don't give me the 'it's still fast anyway'- this is F1. Every driver and team expects their car to be the fastest, not just fast. If you don't understand that, you don't get the point of F1- an engineering competition. Also RBR has been struggling with the same kerbs issue since 2022.), with Max struggling with various issues during the race.
Additionally, the strategy was not great; Max gave the 1st pitstop decision a pass, but then they repeated it for the 2nd pitstop. RBR was hoping that the tyre delta would salvage the race but c'mon, Christian Horner admitted after the race that they got the data wrong and miscalculated how fast they needed to gap the others cars per lap to overtake. From Max's pov, RBR repeated the mistake of the 1st pitstop, allowing him to be undercut again, by both Lewis and Charles, dropping him back to 5th when he started 3rd, on a track known to be hard to overtake. Furthermore, this race was more a race of undercutting than actual on-track overtakes; one prominent example that showed the power of the undercut in this race was Lando, who was stuck behind Oscar for the vast majority of the race. Yet once they undercut Oscar, Lando ended up 3s+ ahead of Oscar, with the gap increasing to ~5s+ as the laps went on, with Oscar unable to catch up. To make matters worse, Max had told the team that undercutting was impt BEFORE the race. Finally, I love GP (Max's race engineer) but honestly they were just antagonising each other during the race. The most obvious example was the sarcastic remark of 'some gentle introduction' after Max did a fast outlap so that he could catch Charles and Lewis, which just made Max even more frustrated. After which, there was literally radio silence for 15 mins, no communication of modes, gaps etc. Max himself mentioned after the race that it did not help that instead of being a calming presence, they (presumably RBR, including GP) did not listen to him and even argued with him. So this mixture of the team not listening to him, repeating the same mistake twice, underwhelming upgrades and poor communication on the radio contributed to Max frustrations in the car. (Oh but according to crofty (sky sports) it's cuz Max did not get his beauty sleep despite Max having followed his standard sleep schedule. Because sleep outranks good strategy and the best car in F1. 🤡 Kids these days and their simracing.)
Could Max have been more polite? Ideally, ig. But GP too was confrontational when he should have been trying to resolve the issues with Max. Was Max wrong in terms of calling out the strat? No. Also, it's so easy for ppl to judge, lazing on their couch. This is a high adrenaline sport for goodness sake, with millions of dollars on the line and millions of people watching their every move. Randos get pissed off at a slow moving vehicle on a normal road; imagine how it would be to be a racing driver going at ~200mph, with the expectations of the team, fans etc. weighing down on you.
Some are arguing that Red Bull generally does well so Max has no right to be upset. Lol. Idk how ppl don't get it into their heads that this is a SPORT. In every sport, any top performing athelete and team knows that every single match/race/point etc matters. You're not there to say "Oh we've won in the past so let's just throw away some games". You're always there to deliver your best. With this kinda logic, Lewis should also have no right to be upset/disappointed with Mercedes cuz didn't they deliver him a championship winning car for years? Idk lmao this particular line of logic is so weird.
I've also seen so many people saying things along the lines of "Max always complains", "Max can't win without the car"- a really weird one considering one only has to look at the recent races to debunk that, "Max blames everything on the team" etc. Be so fr literally every driver 'complains'. A notable case was Austria 2023, where Toto had to come on the race to tell Lewis to 'just drive the car' because he kept going on about it in multiple races last year. Most of the time they're just giving feedback. When they're genuinely 'complaining', it's often cuz they've been screwed over by their own team. See some cases just in this race alone: Alex on the indecisive tyre choice by Williams, Daniel on the screwed up strat by by VCARB. Max wasn't even wrong about the strat. The comment that 'Max blames everything on the team/ When everything goes well it's him, when it doesn't it's the team' is so laughable because if there is one driver on the grid that is consistent in thanking his team and rarely himself, it's Max. You literally just have to see the previous race, Silverstone 2024 where he could've easily said him making all the right calls to pit was essential to getting P2 in the end. Instead, he gave the credit to the team. He's also quick to apologise when he's in the wrong. See Spa quali 2023 after his outburst in Q2. Or when he bought ice cream for GP a few years back to apologise. Also idk where ppl get the idea Max treats his team like shit? Time and time again, people who worked with him have mentioned how they love working with him. For this particular weekend, he literally treated the team to dinner the night before the race but these ppl will never talk about that. What's said on the radio is in the heat of the moment, which ALL the drivers have done. And Max wasn't wrong either; maybe ideally he would have conveyed it nicer, but again, they're all pumped up on adrenaline.
As for the incident, it wasn't even that bad? It looked bad cuz the wheels touched, making Max's car fly up + cuz it was btwn Max and Lewis, certain 'fans' immediately jumped into their hate frenzy. Idk I find it so weird that people keep harping on about it when Lewis said immediately after the race that it was a racing incident. (Those clowns trying to liken Max to Alonso in Austria 2024 need to rewatch the collisions instead of looking at static pictures is all I can say lol cuz Alonso's was straight up a T-bone while Max-Lewis was a wheel bang.) And anyway, ALL drivers get into incidents no matter their accomplishments (Lewis in Monza 2023, Charles hitting Lando in fp this year, Carlos-Oscar in Miami 2024 etc.). The narrative that Max gets into incidents more than the other drivers is just untrue. In fact, this brings me to my next point. The moment Max is half of any incident, regardless of whether he is at fault, so many scumbags immediately completely trash him like a bunch of rabid dogs. For example, Max-George last year at Las Vegas 2023, where Max was not at fault at ALL; George even admitted he wasn't looking in his mirrors. Or Lap 1 Turn 1 of that same race, where ppl to this day are shitting on Max for 'pushing' Charles off-track- when there was literally an oil spill on his grid spot before the race, making that side slippery despite efforts to clean it up, with others like Alonso and Carlos spinning at the same point Max 'pushed' Charles. His onboard then even showed he tried to steer in but the car didn't budge. Besides, he got a penalty that slowed him down a lot (when Lap 1 Turn 1 incidents don't usually get a penalty- idk how ppl can think the FIA favours him lmfao- and no matter what the haters who prob didn't even watch the race said; serving the penalty in the pitstop dropped Max much further back than just swapping positions would have) AND he apologised to Charles right after the race (but noooo he never takes the blame).
The hate ppl have for Max (and tbh, some other drivers) is honestly quite alarming and weird. Like, these grownass ppl are hating on a 26 year old at the top of his game lol. It doesn't help that the media (especially the British media) feeds, if not started, this hatred frenzy. Just see Austria this year, where the media and 'fans' completely blew the incident between Max and Lando out of the water, only for multiple current and ex F1 drivers to call them out on their bs lmao. Again, for Austria 2024, Lando and Max spoke after the race too. But it doesn't fit their narrative so these ppl will never bother to mention this.
Slight tangent but for ppl who try to justify it by saying 'oh it's how it is cuz Max is dominating'- I understand where yall are coming from (see Seb 2013 lol), but the hatred for Max is particulary overwhelming because there are much more fans now, mainly due to DTS and consequently, F1 becoming popular/more popular on social media platforms like TikTok, Twitter etc. As such, Max is arguably facing higher levels of vitrol, since DTS didn't exactly favour him (understatement of the year lol) and many fans who 'watch' F1 through social media just jump on the hate bandwagon without actually watching races/fact-checking. This is worsened by how the media (mainly the Brit media) jumps at every opportunity to put Max down. Sky Sports in particular, being the main broadcast for most fans, often feeds this hate (esp if David Croft or Ted Kravitz is speaking). Finally, all this is only worsened by how social media allows this hate to circulate much more quickly and widely.
lol sry for the rant but gosh it gets tiring seeing the toxicity of so many F1 'fans'.
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bisaster-energy · 1 year ago
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people who hc cas as this just. guy that helps dean with his issues and trauma. why are you living that "no one cares that you're broken cas" life. why are you not caring about him.
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kuzunoha-xiv · 8 months ago
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i was gonna make a joke about society being perfect if ratchet had stayed a woman instead of getting changed because 80s hasbro sucked, but then i remembered what fandoms were like with any woman character who dared to be a little grumpy or mean (or just exist) and i realized something
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these two would've been 2010s fandom's biggest nightmare if that had happened
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poisonedpowder · 13 days ago
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They should've had Vi and J/nx at least try to register where Ekk/o was at in all that mess.
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cherriko-art · 1 month ago
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It's always a bit heartbreaking when you find that your authentic, unmasked self isn't as palatable to others compared to your masked persona, especially when it's friends and loved ones that assured you that they enjoy and love you as you are.
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babacontainsmultitudes · 10 months ago
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[just venting a bit into the void you understand you understand 😌] Lately I've been feeling very caught between "I have a lot of thoughts on Sparrow and Normal and all that with the ending and teen talk and feel like I need to get them out and voice them for my own piece of mind and resolution" and "I am lacking the strength and energy to actually sit down and write it all out and kind of really just want to fully move on to other things (AUs, fics, anything else)" but my brain can't seem to commit to either and that's quite frustrating cause it's just left me very restless. *Sigh*. Idk! Just needed to complain about that a bit ig, it's silly but this is what has been ailing me as of late.
#Then there's also a part of me that's like “does anyone even care at this point? haven't I already talked about them too much?”#but I have seen many a take that irk me...#and perhaps at the center of it all nagging at me is that persistent conflation of love and pride#Less about that in Normal's mind so much as in Will's and the fandom's 🤔#Also that reoccurring issue of the fandom going ''Normal thinks this therefore it is The Truth'' though I believe I've discussed this befor#And... Hooks Will could have grabbed onto but didn't... Quite a few of those...#And the double standard/negativity bias in fandom of ignoring that Sparrow says both that he loves and likes Normal while doodlerized#But not treating those with the same legitimacy we do the pride thing. And ignoring Sparrow's demonstrations of love and change...#And what the love wolf scene actually implies about Sparrow (as I see it) with his own explanation of the pride thing in mind#But also!!! Also on Norm's epilogue and how despite everything taken at face value (i.e. no teen talk influence) I don't actually hate it#and I think it's plenty salvageable#And gah also that like *regardless* of how things turn out with Normal and his dad-#Well I haven't listened to much of the teen talk just the directly Sparrow-relevant clips#so I don't know quite how cynical Will is or isn't about Normal's future#But like. UGH. What I'm trying to say is even if things didn't find resolution vis-a-vis his dad#(which tbh I could go either way on- it's the meta misinterpretations of Sparrow that Bother me not so much Normal's)#(Well that's complicated. Again it comes back to the love vs. pride thing gosh this is so vague of me lol)#With all the positive influences in his life (and just the fact that life is long? and therapy is a thing?) I just don't see Normal-#being Miserable for the rest of his life. Like. I mean I won't elaborate here really but damn it no he can absolutely turn out alright stil#blugh#BUT YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN THAT'S A LOT OF STUFF AND THAT'S ONLY VAGUE RAMBLINGS ABOUT *SOME* OF IT#Like I'm proud of a lot of my essay posts (which I'm hoping to eventually compile in a masterpost eventually actually) but they take a whil#And if my heart wants to do other things... Ah idk...#ANYWAYS a vent to vent a vent to vent
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furryprovocateur · 2 years ago
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spent like 2 hours doing balrog's 4th trial last night and ended up getting stupidly mad over not being able to do it.
spent 15 minutes on it today and got it and now think it's one of the easiest 4th trials for any character
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ganondoodle · 2 years ago
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ok im sorry, i usually try to be respectful of other people theories and such and mind my own business, but this just irks me on a personal level
if you HAVE to connect the darn timelines its
-> 'old timeline with all the old zelda games' -> enough time for everyone to forget and outlive anything of the old timeline -> totk (past) -> 10 000 years ago calamity (the hell is that time frame anyway) -> botw -> totk (present)
any other argument doesnt make a lick of sense and i never thought it would have to think about it; totk (past) map and the present one are literall 1:1 copies, the only thing that changed was surface level built structures, hell, no zoras nor ritos NOT EVEN GERUDO existed in sksw, but you know who didnt change even a little bit in over 10 000 years? zoras and ritos and gerudos from past and present totk! there would have been multiple ganondorfs and ganons (and DEMISE) in the meantime if you cram totk (past) into the old timeline fuckery (which also isnt possible bc we know urbosa said there hasnt been a male gerudo in any recorded history despite it being said there should be one, bc gans been sealed by rauru so no new one can be born), hyrules beens changed and destroyed, newly founded multiple times again in between that and yet it looks like a literal copy of botw?? what??
rauru and sonia founding THIS hyrule makes them the FIRST king and queen of THIS hyrule, who knows how longs its been before that happened, all other history that might have happened in the past (old timeline) has long since been forgotten, they probably dont even know theres been other hyrules before and came up with that name on their own even, and while its fun to theorize around with all the extra amiibo stuff in totk its very clearly just all neat things to find with no deeper meaning attached to it the totk past being called the imprisoning war isnt something unique either, just bc its called that doesnt mean its meant to be the one they mentioned somewhere before, you could call the war with demise and hylia imprisoning war, you also do the same to the one from twilight princess if you wanna same principle as 'hyrule' being a NAME before a place, if you are warring to imprison some evil entity ... why wouldnt you call it imprisoning (or sealing as its in german) war?? we know the zelda franchise operates on completely different timeframes so of course theres stuff thats gonne get lost to history, how would you know there was an imprisoning war before? you got one now so you call it that now
all similarites to skyward sword should be treated as such as well imo, its the 'new' beginning of this 'new' timeline long long after the others (if connected at all), bc why wouldnt you reuse themes or neat ideas of the old games; the forgotten temple and the springs too, they got stuff in botw/totk from all games bc they wanted to reconnect it all so this whole kuddelmuddel is finally not something they have to argue with over and over
whatever they are messing up now is an entirely new mess and whatever references are in this new mess should either be treated as purely references for nostalgias sake, theme reuse, or as a "hey we wanted to realign it all so the timelines merged, a long ass time has passed since then and no one remembers any of it, not does it matter, this is a 'new start' without erasing the past and while some remnats might exist here and there they are there more for your enjoyment than any timeline placement (please leave us alone) have fun with this new game"
if you have to cut off all the lil knobs on a puzzle piece to forcefully fit it into and already finished puzzle chances are it shouldnt be there
wait does the thing that some people think totk (or the stuff in the past) takes place before all other zelda games really just come from rauru and sonia founding hyrule??
hyrules been newly founded and switched places multiple times tho, plus this is an entirely new ""timeline"" anyway
botw + totk are their own thing with lots of references to other games bc funney referenceeee really, i doubt there was supposed to be any kind of deeper connection
(lets ignore the fact that they made botw to be a sort of soft reset and connect it all back together and then made its sequel do time fuckery AGAIN messing it all up again considering the continuity problems with them both .... and causing people to think they have to cram totks past parts into the old timeline somehow)
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motherlvr · 2 years ago
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hi:D can you do miles!42 with a reader who doesn't really like getting told "watch who ur talking to" or smth bc most fics abt miles!42 is like that and nooo i won't ever let a man say that to me😭 and they like, know how to defend themself so they're pretty independent if thats alr ofc!
ngl i loved writing this, tysm for the req!
wc: 2.1k
pairing: E-42 Miles Morales x Strong, Independent! f! reader
warnings: enemies to lovers, kind of rivalry tbh, cursing, Miles is mean in this one, but gets character development, reader knows how to fight, baddie ong, reader doesn't take miles' bs
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"You gotta be shitting me." Mumbling under your breath, your eye involuntarily twitched. You glared at Miles like it was his fault for putting you in this situation.
Your glare was reciprocated as he said, "I ain't happy about it either, princesa." You hated when he called you that. It rolled off his tongue with such distaste. "Yeah? Glad we got that in common then." You snipped, irritated.
Miles Gonzalo Morales was a dick. To put it kindly.
He was a stuck-up, close-minded dick. It's like his sole purpose in life was to irk you. The two of you have never been on good terms. He tested your patience every waking moment.
But unfortunately for both of you, your Spanish teacher paired you up as partners for a major project. It would count for a good portion of your grade, so not doing it wasn't an option for you. You had less than two weeks to finish the project, and you weren't going to waste it.
You'd much prefer to do the project alone. One thing you've learned is: if you want something done correctly, do it yourself. And to never put it solely in the hands of a man. But the project was a requirement for the class, so you had no place to argue about it.
Thankfully, today was just a planning day. So it wouldn't be as painful, you hoped.
You showed him a plan you had thought about within only a few minutes and asked, "Thoughts?" He took a short glance at it and told you, "That's trash." A vein almost popped out of your head. You snapped, "You got any better ideas then?"
"Yea, anythin' other than that." He told you mindlessly. You had half a mind to make his braided head become real familiar with the cold surface of his desk. Around ten minutes later, he had finally come up with something. It wasn't that great, but at least he was semi-cooperative. You took one look at his plan and decided to turn the tables on him. You said, "You couldn't have come up with anything better? Shit's worse than my idea."
You could see him grip his pencil just a bit tighter, no doubt irritated by now. "Nah, watch your mouth." He told you, and you were unsure of how serious he was being. "Watch my mouth? You needa watch how when you turn around, one of your precious braids will be gone." You said as you made a snipping motion with your fingers. He protectively grabbed onto his braids, "Yo chill, ma."
As Spanish class progressed, everything only went downhill from there. He always seemed to hate every idea you had or had something to say. He groaned, "Woman, I swear. Your ideas are shit." Your former hopes of a peaceful partnership were long gone.
His choice of words alone irked you as you replied, "See, that's what you're not gonna call me. And if we're gonna be partners, you need to act decent for once. Get it together, Morales." You set clear boundaries as you pointed a finger at him. Surprisingly, he obliged. He looked like he made a revelation as he shook his head. "Nah, you right. That was outta line." The moment was oddly tranquil until he opened his mouth again. "I meant: I swear, your ideas are fucking terrible."
From that point further, the hopes of having a normal, mature, conversation were fleeting. The majority of the class was spent bickering rather than working on the task at hand.
You were one of the very few people that tested him. You gave him a challenge, while most people wouldn't utter a single complaint.
Eventually, at the end of the class, the two of you finally landed on an idea to carry out. A true miracle.
The next week in Spanish class passed and the days were cutting it closer and closer to the deadline. But there was still much work to be done. So, begrudgingly, you both had to work on it out of school. After Spanish, you were packing up your things when you asked him, "My place or yours?" His response was immediate. "My place. I'll give you my address. Come over after school, 'ight?" He said, writing down his address and handing it to you.
You accepted it and said, "Alright. Are your parents good with me coming over?" You questioned if he even had the decency to check first. Although you couldn't stand him most of the time, you didn't want to intrude on his family. He shrugged it off, "Yeah my ma's good with it. Already told her."
He wasn't about to tell you that his mother demanded the project was done at his house so she could keep a keen eye on the both of you.
You were dreading the final bell of the day. Spending more time than legally required with Miles wasn't your ideal image of fun. As the school day ended, you walked over to Miles' house.
Knocking on the door, it was soon opened by no one other than Miles' mother. She was expecting you, as a smile adorned her face. You greeted her, "¡Hola, Señora Morales! Gracias por invitarme a tu casa." (Hi, Mrs. Morales! Thank you for inviting me to your house.)
She widened her eyes at you, "¡Claro! ¿Cómo estás?" (of course, how are you?) She asked you with a sweet smile. You replied and reciprocated a smile, "Bien, ¿usted?" (good, you?) To which she responded, "Muy bien, gracias." (very good, thank you) As you put down your things, you noticed Miles was standing only a few feet away. His mother pulled Miles to the side and whispered, "She speaks Spanish, I like her." Not wanting to give away that she was a loud whisperer, you concealed a small laugh. It's a wonder how Miles turned out like that. His mother's wonderful. You knew she raised him better.
After his mother was done speaking to him, Miles led you to his room. His mother called out, "¡Deja la puerta abierta!" (leave the door open!) "Si, mami." He said back in an unusually nice tone.
You previously believed Miles Morales was a universal dick. But you soon realized you were somewhat wrong. He was a dick. To everyone except his mother, it seemed.
As you both settled down to start working on the project, you grinned at him like you had just found out a Federal-level secret. "You're such a momma's boy." You said.
His head whipped to you like you knew something you shouldn't. "No one would believe you." He said. You teased, "Oh, everyone would. Trust."
This was the most civil conversation the both of you have ever held within your whole history of knowing Miles. The afternoon was sprinkled with light-hearted jokes here and there, and it wasn't as painful as you initially believed. Needless to say, being forcibly confined in a space with Miles went much smoother than you could've ever anticipated. The project was progressing for once. And so was your relationship with Miles.
A few days later, you were in a better mood than regular. Within the past few days, Miles has been more tolerable. Maybe even likable. Apparently, you were in too good of a mood. You must've appeared too approachable today.
As you were walking in the hallways of school to your next class, a guy you didn't recognize slung an arm around your shoulders and said, "Hey, what's good jit?" You immediately pushed his arm off. He reeked of an excessive usage of cologne. You winced at his stench. "Don't call me that." You assertively said. But he only took it as a challenge. He said with a wink, "You tryna play hard to get? Alright, I'll play along."
"I'm not 'playing hard to get'," You mocked with air quotations. Dumbing it down, you continued, "I don't want you." Could a girl make it any more obvious?
Your words went straight over his oversized head. He said with a disgusting smirk, "I can change your mind." Your face visibly grimaced at his desperate attempt, "Not even baby Jesus could change my mind."
He was starting to get agitated at this point, "Nah, why you trippin', girl?" he said. You immediately retorted, "Why can't you take a damn hint?"
"C'mon, I know you want me. Gimme a chance." He said. You were sick and tired of this interaction, so you just decided to walk away. Turning your back, you tried to escape this conversation. But he grabbed your hand to prevent you from leaving. "Aye, where you goin'?"
You tried to be patient. And where did patience get you? Nowhere. In your mind, this guy was way too testosterone-deficient to be talking tough to you. There was nothing worse than a teenage boy. More importantly, a boy that didn't know what 'no' means.
And in an instant, the sound of a slap resounded throughout the hallway.
He looked like he was about to start crying. Holding his cheek in pain, he sneered, "Fuck you, bitch. You ain't shit anyway. I ain't even want you." But as you tried to walk away once again, he placed a tight grip on your shoulder to prevent you from escaping.
Miles was skipping class and wandering in the hallways when he saw you. From your body language, he could tell you were uncomfortable. His eyes glanced toward the guy's grip on your shoulder, and Miles suddenly understood the situation. He could see where this was heading. Or at least, he believed he did. Miles was about to intervene when within the blink of an eye, you had flipped the guy on his back and onto the floor.
You told the boy on the floor, "Don't try that shit again. With me or any other woman, got it?" Groaning in agony, the guy whimpered in response, and you took it as a 'yes'.
The guy was no André the Giant, but it impressed the hell out of Miles nonetheless. Since when could you do that? He questioned himself. Miles had to prevent his jaw from dropping. He was suddenly glad he never pushed you that far. You walked away unbothered as if nothing had happened. He gained a newfound respect for you. But that would have to stay unspoken.
Once Spanish class rolled around, you realized it was the second to last day you had to finish the project, so you were working extra diligently in Spanish class. You told Miles, "Alright, I finished decorating it. What do you think?" showing him the project. Not that you cared what he thought, but it would make this whole process much easier if he wouldn't shit on your every move. You've had your daily dose of asshole for the day. Almost an overdose, really.
A few moments passed by where he stared at the project, and then back to you. Fully expecting Miles to be his usual asshole self, you said, "Spit it out. What is it?" You waved your hand in front of his face. He swatted your hand away and replied, "I ain't gonna hold you, it's a pretty solid project so far."
You raised a brow at him, and suspiciously asked, "Really?" This was the first time he didn't have any retort to say. "Yeah, I think you're great, ma." He said. You cheekily grinned at him as he tried to correct himself, "I meant, great at the project. Yeah. The project." He almost stumbled on his words. He never did that. He was always collected. What was up with him? It was definitely a sudden change, but you weren't complaining.
There was only a small portion of the project left to do by the end of the class, so Miles suggested finishing it at his house.
This time after school, the both of you walked together to his house. As you worked on the project in his room, you noticed he wasn't getting much done. It seemed like he was in his head, whatever goes on in there. As you glanced up, he locked eyes with you. You hadn't a clue what he was thinking.
You originally would've preferred to do the project yourself, but if you had to have a partner, you believed the work should be divided equally. You weren't going to carry the whole project on your back.
"Why're you slacking, Miles? Our time is limited, y'know." "Ion know. Mind's elsewhere." He shrugged. It was subtle, but you noticed his glance travel to your lips. You grinned and took the opportunity to tease, "What, you want a kiss or somethin'?" You said it mainly as a joke. Sure, maybe you liked the way he gave you a challenge everyday. You wouldn't blatantly admit it, but it was refreshing to be with someone that actually cared about their work. But much to your surprise, he ran his hand over the back of his braids and said. "Shi, maybe it would motivate me. You feel me?"
Not expecting him to agree, you said, "I mean, alright. If you get off your ass, maybe I'll give you one." You tried to say as casually as you could. But you couldn't deny the fact that you were growing fond of him. You were internally conflicted as you wanted to hate him, but couldn't. In reality, it was far from hate.
Miles couldn't exactly pinpoint the moment his detest for you faded away and was replaced with something different. An emotion he rarely felt. Seeing you singlehandedly take on a guy was only fueling it for him. He quickly started working harder on his part. You mentally praised yourself. After a few silent moments, he spoke up, "Yo, I'm basically finished."
He was bullshitting, and you knew it. As you looked at his part of the project, he still had a good chunk to finish. But you caved and moved closer to him. Holding a hand to his face, you peppered a light kiss to the corner of his mouth, just barely avoiding his mouth.
As usual, he had something to say, "Don't play, mami." He resisted the urge to press his lips to yours until they were numb. You simply smiled at him and replied, "Yeah? Keep workin' and you'll earn a real one."
Immediately, Miles got right back to working on his part of the project without another complaint. You've never seen him work so studiously.
Pleased to say, with your motivation, Miles was more productive that day than all the other days combined.
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taglist! please lmk if u want to be added 🫶
@l5byrinth @iamspooderman
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musette22 · 2 months ago
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You know what annoys me when people say that Steve had no one in the modern world who remembered him from before except for Peggy is that it puts Peggy on a level of knowing Steve Rogers pre serum. And she didn't. She only knew him once he had been chosen by Dr. Erskine and even then only really paid attention once he became big.
She didn't even know him on the field in the way that the Howlies would have because she wasn't there, she wasn't a field soldier.
The people who really truly knew Steve would have been his and Bucky's friends in Brooklyn and Bucky's sisters. And something about giving that kind of importance to Peggy just annoys me. I understand what they're trying to say...that she was the only one from the past who was still around. But it just irks me, the way they frame it
Oh yeah, I completely agree. That rubs me the wrong way too, but then so do a lot of things about how a lot of fic/meta frames Steve’s relationship with Peggy. Her significance to Steve and Steve's story gets overstated aaaall the time imo. It was never that deep, honestly, and I'm not sure why so many people would act like it was, but hey.
But yeah, this particular thing irks me too. You're absolutely right that the way she knew him never ever came close to the way Bucky knew him, and I agree that even Bucky's sisters and the Howlies would have probably known Steve better than Peggy ever did. So wording it like that, saying she remembered him from before and thereby implying she knew Steve the way someone who's known him all his life would know him, makes no sense to me either tbh 🤷🏻‍♀️
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rjk1ve · 1 year ago
Text
AGORA HILLS
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────────── BASED OFF OF THIS EDIT.
summary: you and jimin are in a fwbs relationship until things take a turn and feelings get involved.
pairing: global pop star m!reader x model!jimin
warnings: fully self indulgent (sorry not sorry), cheating, frottage, lots of kissing, oppa kink, pet names (princess, baby etc), oral (jm & reader receiving), feminisation (reader calls jm’s hole a pussy like one time), fwbs turned… well it’s complicated, reader is a literal ass to his fiancée lmao, manipulative reader, some teasing, confessions, unintentional subspace, jm is so smitten, so is reader tbh, ass eating fr, bareback (pls use protection ppl), breeding kink
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Your phone vibrates in a continuous loop—an indicator of a call that remains silent within the four walls of your sumptuous bedroom, currently accompanied by the body of your sleeping fiancée next to you.
The clock in the top left hand corner of your screen reads 01:37am. It’s not late, but it isn’t exactly early either, and honestly, if it were any other person on the line except for him, you may have just popped a vessel or two, thumb lifting up to caress your brow line as you get up and head somewhere downstairs.
Jimin knows you very well, probably better than your own oblivious fiancée and even your friends, and for that reason, he also knows he gets to get away with this every time.
“Hm.” You grunt once you pick up—your way of letting him know you’re listening and that you’re there when you’re not in the mood to talk. Jimin sighs heavily on the other side.
“Are you still mad at me?” He asks, a pout clearly evident in the tone of his voice. When he receives nothing but silence from your end, he continues, “Baby,” and his voice is sweet—honey sweet with drops of dark chocolate, a rich, breathy note that sings its way into your veins. It’s a tone he only ever uses with you, but even that had become meaningless in the face of greedy fingers pulling another man close to him tonight.
There’s some shuffling on his end of the line before he speaks again. “Are you not planning to talk to me at all? I called because I missed you, wanna hear your voice.” he says, and you hear more shuffling, a light vibration crackle through the line. Your eyes fall onto the glittering moon as it reflects against the still waters of the pool, your body leant by the pillar holding up the entrance to your backyard.
“If you’re gonna call me to apologise, at least have the decency to try and hide your horniness,” You comment, voice low, but the corner of your lip twitches upwards, until it doesn’t, because Jimin mewls, inhaling small breaths of air, and the sudden rush of arousal goes straight to your dick.
“Are you playing with yourself right now?” You ask, fingers resting on your chest to scratch through the cotton fabric lazily. Jimin doesn’t answer, instead you receive a sharp exhale from him before he whimpers. “Answer me, kitten.” You demand, voice firm, and he whimpers again at the use of the pet name.
“I have to,” He gasps out, “Since all these men around me have gotten so useless lately.” and he says this as a jab to you—not in the sense that you’re not good in bed, because fuck, Jimin doesn’t think he’s even seen a cock half as impressive as yours, stamina eye widening. He says this because he misses you, wants you, needs you, wishing to irk you into action, but your stubbornness always overpowers his pleas, even now.
“Mm, have fun with your little toy then.” You tell him, and Jimin picks up on the finality of your tone, knowing you were soon going to end the call and so he has no choice, pulling out his last resort.
A sniffle filters through to your ear within seconds, and your eyebrows knit together, understanding exactly where this is going. “Are you serious?” You growl lowly, voice rough and cracking through your meticulously crafted facade. This is a regular Thursday for him, an act of vulnerability that shouldn’t affect you so much after its tireless misuse, but this is Park Jimin. And you’re you.
“It didn’t mean anything,” his voice trickles with something you’re unfamiliar with—it sounds honest, almost regretful. “She was clinging to you all night. Y-you wouldn’t even look at me. I couldn’t think of anything else. I just… I wanted your attention.”
Your fingers cascade through your hair, your resolve breaking with a sigh. It wasn’t exactly a lie; Jimin was right. Your fiancée was being clingier than usual at Jung Hoseok’s album launch party tonight, and she was never the clingy type. Perhaps the threat of endless socialites was too grand, or maybe she simply wished to show off her man in an unfamiliar crowd, wanting to feel like she actually belonged. Either way, Jimin noticed and was clearly affected by it.
“She’s my fiancée, sweetheart.” You didn’t know what else to say. It’s not as if the arrangement between you and Jimin meant anything. You were just fuck buddies—someone the other could use for stress relief and to maybe complain about your actual relationships from time to time. That’s all you are, or were supposed to be, because Jimin doesn’t like your reply.
“Come see me.” He demands instead, blunt with a layer of desperation seeping in. It’s been nearly a week since he saw the last of you, soothing the itch of separation that burns beneath his skin through gentle and excited reminders of your long awaited encounter at Hoseok’s party.
He did not wait a week for you to ignore him. He did not wait a week to watch you guide your pretty little fiancée out of Hoseok’s lavish venue just because she couldn’t handle her alcohol too well.
“Jimin-” You start, but he cuts you off quickly, already aware of the words of rejection sitting on the tip of your tongue. But you should also know, he isn’t one to give up so easily, and he knows exactly what gets you going.
“Please, oppa.” He begs, a pitched whine that you can envision on his pouty lips that immediately shuts you up, erasing any previous plans of denying Jimin his demands. “Need you to stretch me out on your cock, need to let everyone know they’ll never be able to accommodate me like you do. I need it.”
See, usually when your brain’s in charge, moments like this… those days where Jimin is extra needy and sultry with his words, they don’t affect you. But tonight, after all of the shit with your fiancée practically ruining your time out with your friends, your dick is starting to take hold of the reins, twitching and leaving behind a feeling of tightness in your loose joggers.
“Fine. I’ll see you in ten.”
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“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please.” Jimin cries, pressed up against the wall to his bedroom, desperately wishing to grind back into you who licks a long stripe up his neck. You nibble on his earlobe, lips ghosting the shell of his ear.
“God, yes,” Jimin moans as your hands roam over his body, pulling his back flat against your chest. He can feel your cock pressing against his ass, seeking more friction as you grind against him. “Please, stop teasing.”
You chuckle softly before spinning him around, slamming him against the door with enough force that it rattles in its frame. Your mouth is hot and wet against his as you kiss him deeply, exploring every inch of his lips and tongue, tasting him, owning him.
His eyes flutter shut, mouth falling open in a soundless, vulnerable offer, submitting himself to you as you continue to tease him, fingers digging into his hips, nails scratching lightly against his skin.
The intensity between you both is undeniable, electric sparks crackling in the air as desire consumes you whole. Jimin's mind goes blank as your lips move to trail down his neck, his fingers digging into your shoulders in order to hold himself upright. Each touch from you ignites new flames within him, threatening to engulf him utterly.
You retract, lips glistening with spit and saliva as you grip his chin, breath heavy on his lips. “Look at me.” You demand, and he looks up at you with wide eyed innocence, mind hazy, hands desperate to hold you tightly against him. “What do you want, baby? Do you want oppa’s cock?”
He’s like putty in your hands, melting under your every touch as he nods desperately. “Yes,” He breathes out, voice husky with need. “I want everything oppa has to offer.”
You smirk, wickedness dancing in your gaze as you grasp onto his waist, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. His legs wrap around your hips as you carry him towards his bed, every step sending shivers through his entire being. He’s missed you so much. He tells you exactly this.
“I missed you too, baby,” You reply and it’s honest.
As soon as you lay him down, he spreads his thighs eagerly, inviting you closer. With hunger in your eyes, you crawl between them, tracing circles along the insides of his knees before slowly dragging yourself upwards, placing a lusty kiss upon his lips as his fingers entangle themselves in your hair, tugging harshly at the roots.
Jimin gasps as you break away from his lips, trailing kisses across his jawline and down his chest. Everywhere your mouth touches sends jolts of pleasure throughout his body, leaving him panting for breath. As your teeth graze the sensitive skin beneath his collarbone, he arches his back, begging for more.
Your hand wanders lower, skimming over the fabric of his pants before dipping inside. The rough texture of your palm strokes against his hardened cock, making him groan loudly. Your other hand reaches up to pinch and twist his nipples, drawing sharp intakes of breath from him.
Jimin grips onto the sheets, trying to steady himself as waves of sensation crash over him. “Oppa,” he whines, clutching onto your arm. “Don't stop.”
You coo, using your free hand to quickly pull out your own leaking cock from your joggers, pressing its larger size against Jimin’s own smaller one. He whimpers as he looks down, and you guide both of his hands to wrap around your cocks. “You can take over for me for a little bit, can’t you?”
It’s not even a question that needs answering as Jimin sits up, reaching over to his nightstand to grab some lube, tearing it open and immediately lathering both of your cocks. His thighs rest comfortably over yours, toes curling as he begins jerking. You hum, watching his small hands struggle to hold you in place as you strip yourself of your shirt and discard it onto the floor. Jimin’s breath catches.
“Have you upped your workout regime? You look even bigger than last time.” He says, practically drooling at the way your biceps stretch and flex with every move. His eyes trail along every part of you; from your broadened shoulders to your heavily developed pecs, you could simply consume him whole.
“If I don’t work out, who’s gonna protect you?” You ask, and he perks up at that, hands stuttering their ministrations for a second before speeding up. Clearly, he likes that you seem to think about him outside of your little get togethers, cheeks colouring pink. Your hand wraps around his wrist then, before you flip him around onto his stomach, fingers digging into his hips as you hold his ass up in front of you.
“And if I don’t protect you, then perhaps any old bastard’d get access to this, no?” You continue, voice low and dripping with a hint of venom. Jimin’s hole puckers at the recollection of your jealousy; a little apologetic but satisfied with the effect he now knows he has on you.
“Oh, you like that?” You spit on his hole, thumb rubbing gentle circles around the rim, stretching it just a little bit so you can get a better view inside. Jimin whines, head turning to look back at you.
“No teasing, oppa.” He pleads once more, already pretty sensitive from his earlier play session. You ignore him however, spitting onto his hole again before you shove your tongue inside to get a taste. Jimin’s fingers curl around silk sheets, bunching up the fabric as he pushes his ass back, trying to meet you halfway. “Yes, yes, yes. Like that. Just like that, please!”
Your hands move to spread Jimin’s ass cheeks apart, squeezing and kneading the flesh as you shove your tongue in deeper. The slide is easy, his hole gaping and ready to be used but you want to prolong the foreplay, want to spend every extra second in his welcoming embrace. “What a desperate little bitch in heat. It’s like you can’t function at all without a cock in you, huh?” You mock, slapping his ass. He squeaks at the impact, head lolling onto the mattress.
“Not just any cock. Your cock. Can’t live without oppa’s cock, want it all to myself.” He says, and his voice slips into shy territory, attempting to bury his reddened cheeks with the silk sheets. You pause, catching the change of tone, and what would usually be harmless dirty talk seems to take a different connotation for Jimin.
“All to yourself?” You move away from Jimin’s ass, climbing over to press yourself firmly on top of him, holding most of your weight up with your arms so as to not crush the younger. Jimin can barely make eye contact, continuing to hide his face within the sheets.
Your head settles within the crook of Jimin’s neck, your hand reaching down to rub your cock between his ass cheeks in a steady rhythm as you nibble on his tan skin. “What’s wrong? You can’t look oppa in the eye when you make confessions now? Look at me, baby.” And your hand wraps around his throat, tilting his head up to make eye contact, foreheads pressed together.
“I want you to myself. I want you to stay the night.” He confesses, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. It’s not something you’re used to; his shyness, his insistence on your time, but you’re already in a state of mounting bliss, cock now positioned against his hole. You insert it in without much warning, earning a surprised scream from Jimin, but before his head can pull away, your hand reaches up to keep it in place, pressing a firm kiss to his lips.
“I’m all yours, princess. Oppa will stay the night if it makes you happy.”
And that moment there—that is probably the start of when boundaries really began to blur.
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“I just don’t like the way he clings to you. I think you should set some boundaries, don’t you think?” She asks, chopping up some carrots. It’s a casual slip in, her obviously thinking she was acting quite nonchalant about it as to not create a scene. You hum, scratching your ear as you read through the setlist your manager had sent to you. “I mean, I know he’s your friend, but last time when we went to Jieun’s party everyone was commenting about how close you two seemed. Some of them even thought you were dating! I mean, isn’t that crazy?”
You settle back in your seat on the couch, switching channels on the TV as you reply to Hoseok’s message about covering a dance challenge later and then Namjoon’s invitation for his first night out as a newly single man. Your fiancée continues rambling in the background.
“It’s just… strange. When was it that you got to know him? He acts like he’s known you for a lifetime. Every now and again is fine, but-” She finally looks over at you, pausing when she realises you’ve been paying her no mind, “Oppa!”
Rolling your eyes, you finally turn to look at her. “What?” You grumble, switching your phone off. She huffs like a little child and you simply raise your brow. “Well? What?”
“Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying at all this entire time?”
You shrug, gaze turning to the TV upon hearing Jimin’s name on the presenter’s lips. The man’s discussing the upcoming Paris Fashion Week and Korea’s anticipation for Jimin’s appearance. Your diverted attention simply irks your fiancée even more as she storms over to you in order to grab the remote before switching the TV off altogether.
“What the fuck are you doing?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed. She crosses her arms over her chest, visibly upset.
“Don’t you understand what I’m trying to say?” She exclaims. “Your friendship with Jimin-ssi has become unhealthy. I don’t want him coming between us. You need to make sure there’s a clear boundary between your personal life and your professional one.”
You scoff at the ridiculousness spewing out of her lips, averting your eyes as you grab yourself a cigarette from the pack on the coffee table. “Personal? Professional? Like you said, he’s my friend. We’re just close like that.” You dismiss, pulling the lighter out of your pocket.
“But your behavior around him is different,” She says firmly. “You’re always making excuses to spend time with him, canceling plans with me or avoiding social events because you don’t want to be away from him for too long.”
“Now you’re just making shit up.” You comment, beginning to stand up. You make your way over to the balcony but she follows you, exasperated.
“I’m making shit up? Are you serious? Everyone can see it! Your friends see it, my friends see it. The media sees it, so why can’t you?”
Lighting your cigarette, you inhale deeply, your eyes drifting down to the ends of the cigarette burning lightly in your hand. Everyone sees it?
“People like to stir up drama. Especially about guys like me, sweetheart. You should know this.” You tell her, bringing the cigarette back up to your lips. She stays silent for a second, and you hope she’s finally settled down until her voice reaches your ears once more, triggering the oncoming symptoms of a headache you’d rather not deal with.
“They’re only stirring up drama because you’re giving it to them on a silver platter. You need to stop spending so much time with Jimin-ssi. Or at least stop letting him cling to you the way he does.”
As you exhale another puff of smoke, you can feel your temper starting to flare up. “What’s wrong with spending time with my friend? And what do you mean by ‘cling’? That’s just his personality.”
Your fiancée throws her hands up in frustration. “You’re not listening to me! I’m saying that it’s too much, that your friendship with him is crossing a line and I don’t feel comfortable with it. Can’t you see how it affects our relationship?”
You let out a sigh, flicking the cigarette butt over the balcony railing. “I understand that you’re uncomfortable with it, yeah? But I’m not cutting him out of my life like that.” You reply calmly, trying to diffuse the situation. “Jimin’s been there for me through a lot of shit, and I’m not going to throw away our friendship because of baseless rumors.”
Your fiancée looks at you, her eyes pleading. “I’m not asking you to throw away your friendship, I’m just asking you to set some boundaries. And maybe spend more time with me instead.”
You nod, but your internal feelings to defend Jimin still bubble in your chest. “I’ll try to find a balance, alright? But you need to trust me. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise our relationship.”
Your fiancée nods, a bit of relief on her face. “Okay,” she says quietly. “I trust you.” You pull her into your arms, holding her gently.
“I love you,” You whisper, kissing her forehead.
But one has to wonder just when did it become so easy for you to lie like this?
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“That’s right, baby. Keep going. Good, good boy.” You hiss lowly, fingers tangled within Jimin’s head of hair as he bobs his head, sucking your cock past his plump lips messily, hollowing his cheeks.
You bite back a groan, hips thrusting up, slow and steady before they pick up pace, fucking Jimin’s throat like it’s your own personal fleshlight. “God, your mouth. I fucking love your mouth.” You growl, and he looks up at you through thick wet lashes, fingers running along your thighs in an encouraging manner.
“Take it all, princess.” You hold his head still, pushing in deeper as his eyes roll back from every extra inch of your cock that invades his throat. His muffled moan vibrates through your cock and you stroke his cheek, getting him to look up at you with pleading eyes.
“So pretty like this. You’re so good, always helping oppa relieve his stress.” You whisper, and he moans again, nodding, always willing to help. His lack of a gag reflex means you can continue to push his head all the way down and he lets you until his nose presses against your pelvis, cock buried fully within his warm walls.
You hold him in place for a hot minute, head settling back against the couch as you shudder, lips parted, swallowing hard as your fingers brush through his hair. Jimin’s hand moves to fondle with your balls, mouth dribbling the longer he holds your cock down before you pull him off and he heaves.
It only takes a moment before he’s back to appeasing you, licking long stripes up your cock, cheek pressed against your thigh. “Oppa,” he babbles, breathless and needy, and you understand fully as you guide him up to sit on your lap. He immediately presses his lips to yours, shoving his tongue down your throat. You can taste the remnants of your come through the kiss, fingers digging into his perked ass cheeks, spreading them apart.
“You want it that bad?” You query teasingly, eyebrow raised with a lazy smile. He presses himself closer to you, wiggling his ass against your cock as he nods desperately, nibbling on your bottom lip for another taste of you. You hum, pulling away with a tsk. “Words, sweetheart. What did I say about using your words?”
“Oppa!” He cries out with a pout, actual tears forming along his lash line, “Please. I’ve been good. Can’t cum without oppa’s cock. Can’t cum without you in me. Can’t do it. Please.” He begs, giving you much more than you’d asked for, and it satisfies your ego immensely, fingers cascading down the front of your shirt that drapes over Jimin’s figure before sneaking underneath it to run them along the smooth expanse of his skin.
“You have been a good boy, haven’t you? Go on then.” You jut your chin out and his being fills with vibrance, hand reaching back to position your cock against his entrance, but choosing to get payback for your little teasing seconds prior by rubbing his already lubed ass against your hardened length, only ever pushing your tip in slightly before pulling out.
You growl, lips curled down slightly. “Baby, are you playing games with me right now?”
He smiles, eyes turning into little crescent moons as he pecks your lips, his free hand coming up to rest on your shoulder for balance before finally he plunges himself down onto your cock, earning synchronised moans from the both of you.
Jimin’s head nestles itself into the crook of your neck, giving you access to skin that you suck on gently, wishing to form generous marks of your time together before he moves away, shaking his head. “No marks, oppa. The makeup noonas get mad.”
You tsk, although you try to compose your disappointment. Jimin still seems to catch onto some sense of it however, because he’s quick to comfort you, hands cupping your cheeks as he gyrates his hips slowly. “Don’t- don’t be mad. You’re the only one that gets to have me like this.”
“I better be.” You grumble, but Jimin’s insides swell with pride when he notices the way your attention catches at this information. It’s news to you, having thought Jimin would be seeing plenty of other guys in his spare time aside from you but he isn’t.
You’re his favourite. His only one.
“Does oppa like the thought of having me to himself~?” He asks, lips grazing gently against the shell of your ear. He nibbles on it, earning a hum from you as your hands rest on his petite waist, squeezing.
“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Guess you’ll never really know, will ya?” You chuckle when you feel him pout, his tight walls clenching around your cock. He wraps his arms around your shoulders.
“I’m not moving until you tell me.” He says stubbornly. You pretend to huff, fingers lifting to guide him to face you as you caress his cheek with softened eyes.
“Baby,” You begin, and Jimin perks up, eyes wide with anticipation as he nods, urging you on. He’s so excited thinking you’re going to admit his impact on you until he blinks and suddenly you’re on top of him, having flipped your positions with ease. “You should know better than to provoke me.”
His arms still hold onto your shoulders loosely, and it takes him a minute to register what had just taken place before he whines like a little child, thrashing beneath your weight. “I hate you.” He huffs after failing to push you away, pout deepening as he turns his head. You thrust in and out of him slowly, watching the way his face contorts immediately and his lips quiver, trying his hardest to hold back even the subtlest hint of pleasure until his back arches once you bottom out, nails digging into your delts.
Your hands rest on either side of Jimin’s head, held up by the arm of the couch as you lean down. “I love you.” You whisper, thrusting in deeper, harder, and Jimin tenses at the sudden confession. His thighs loosen and tighten around your waist all at once, almost as if he’s unsure of reality itself. He’s zoned out for a moment, eyes glazed over and then he starts to cry—fresh hot tears stream down his face as he looks up at you, and the look in your eyes is so pure and unfiltered, so full of vulnerability that it makes him cry harder, pulling you as close to him as humanly possible.
“Again.” He pleads, legs spreading wider now, heels digging into your ass to push your cock further into his depths. You press your lips to his in a hot passionate kiss and he responds enthusiastically, nails scratching roughly along your back. “Please. Please say it again. Tell me you love me.”
“I love you.” You tell him again, obliging to his every whim as your slow and powerful thrusts turn to honest lovemaking. His cock twitches at the admission, pre-come leaking out which accompanies pretty, flushed cheeks.
You kiss his tears away one by one, cooing at the way he seems to take on a more docile and dependent role as opposed to his usual bratty one. You’ve even witnessed him on his more desperate days where he’ll do anything just to grab your attention, but not this. This was something different.
“Baby,” You call out to him, hand cupping his cheek. He simply nuzzles further into your touch, mewling at the warmth you provide as you press yourself against him completely, his eyes twinkling as he stares up at you.
“You okay?” You ask, just to be sure. He doesn’t respond with words, but his hands lift to wrap around your wrist, the other settling on top of your palm as he guides your thumb past his lips. He suckles gently, hot tongue circling the pad of your thumb and this is answer enough.
You’ve unintentionally caused him to slip into subspace with your confession, and as you realise this, your heart swells. Those simple words that had come out of your lips had meant so much to Jimin. His ears had practically been yearning to hear them and now that he had, he couldn’t possibly imagine anything more euphoric. He loved you so much.
“Did you like oppa’s confession that much? You liked it so much that you’ve gone dumb, hm?” You chuckle, licking your bottom lip as he nods eagerly, not even denying the accusation. “Good, because oppa’s gonna breed this pretty little pussy until you’re begging me to stop, baby.”
Pulling your thumb out of his mouth, you move your hands back to the arm of the couch where Jimin’s head lays, knuckles tense as your fingers dig into the fabric, thrusting at an angle that has Jimin screaming your name.
“Oppa, oppa…” He’s babbling in your ear, nails scratching along your back subconsciously and you know he’s definitely left some semipermanent marks by now that you’ll have to hide from your fiancée. He’s never been this clumsy, never left any marks on you like this but you can’t say you don’t enjoy it.
“Doing so well for me.” You praise into his ear and he bites down on your shoulder, earning a groan from you as you press a kiss to his temple. His walls clench rhythmically around your cock as if it’s physically attempting to stop you from pulling out at all, loving the thought of being impaled on your girth for eternity. He would be such a good cocksleeve for you, wouldn’t he?
Soon, you turn him on his back where he holds himself up on all fours quite poorly, his cheek smushed against the leather couch as you hold up his ass. Your tongue immediately slips inside to get a taste and he cries, pushing his ass back even further for your pleasure. “Want oppa’s cum… want all of it in me.” He pleads.
Humming, you lift yourself up, pressing light kisses along his back before your chest slots itself perfectly against Jimin’s back. You guide Jimin’s head up, your bicep wrapped around the younger’s throat in order to hold his head upright before your cock shoves past his walls again. “Mm, there we go.” You smirk upon finding your target, hitting his prostate over and over rapidly.
Jimin thrashes a little at the mounting pleasure but you hold him securely, the veins in your arms popping.
As you continue to pound into Jimin's tight whole, sweat drips off your forehead and onto his skin, mingling with the sheen already slick between your two bodies. The sounds of flesh meeting flesh echo through the room and you both moan and grunt with each brutal thrust.
Your grip around Jimin’s neck tightens slightly as you feel his muscles begin to spasm around your cock. “Oh god,” he whimpers, his voice strained and breathless. “Don't stop... please don't stop.”
With a low growl, you drive deeper into him, feeling his inner walls contract around your dick as you hit his sweet spot once more. It takes everything you have not to lose control right then and there, but you force yourself to hold back, wanting to draw out his pleasure as long as possible.
Slowly, you pull almost entirely out, only to plunge back into him again with renewed vigour. Jimin screams your name as you repeat this torturous cycle, the tip of your cock rubbing against his sensitive nerve endings each time you withdraw.
As the intensity builds within Jimin, his body begins to tremble uncontrollably. Sweat glistens on his skin, mixing with tears that stream down his face. “Oppa,” he chokes out, clutching desperately at the couch cushions beneath him.
Ignoring his cries for mercy, you continue to pound into him relentlessly. Every stroke sends waves of ecstasy coursing through his entire being, leaving him gasping for air.
Finally, with one final push, you erupt deep inside him, filling him completely with your seed. Jimin lets out a keening cry as he comes with you, writhing underneath you as you collapse against his back, spent.
For several moments, the only sound that fills the room is the steady beat of your hearts intertwined together. Eventually, you lift yourself up, pulling out of Jimin’s quivering hole. As you do so, he collapses forward onto the couch, exhausted and utterly satisfied.
“Thank you, oppa,” He whispers weakly, closing his eyes, but then he opens them again almost immediately—this time with slight insecurity etched within them, not giving you time to answer before he speaks again. “Did you… did you mean what you said?” He asks, his voice meek and timid. “About, uhm, the confession?”
You pause, considering your words carefully. Now that the rush of pleasure and adrenaline had passed you by, the words exchanged between the both of you become clearer, but you don't regret anything.
“I meant every word.” You tell him honestly, your fingers gripping his chin gently. He brightens at the words, hopeful. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you too.” He replies, pulling you down into a kiss.
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TAGLIST ───── check out this post to see how to be added.
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klausshargreevess · 3 months ago
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Watch it be the same people that sexualized five in the earlier seasons because technically five is mentally old yet looks 15 at most be the same people who ship that god awful ship
“Technically 🤓☝️-” technically what ?
Five, Diego, AND Lila deserved better, if Five needed a love interest they could’ve made one up easily like how FANFIC writers do it’s not that hard trust me. What irks me the most is that Lila and Diego has a whole ass family
It’s not about how good the ship might be if it made sense but to me it’s not MORALLY right in any sense
And yes Lila doesn’t seem like the parent type but I don’t think she would’ve thrown away her FAMILY you know the one that she wanted to be a part of so badly for a cheap thrill. Lila is a wild card but she’s not stupid and neither is Five.
I have a lot more to say about it and as someone who is currently studying psychology and sociology you bet I’m psychoanalyzing this at some point
And the ONLY good point is that they’ve been stuck for 7 years- that’s it. Yes they can most definitely form attachments during that time frame but they also loose their minds and morals during it, the brain is a funny thing that can cause many things to happen, but we have to remember that there needs to be accountability.
It’s not the ship itself it’s the characters they ruin with it, I get why people like it but it’s not the way the characters should’ve ended, it felt like a let down.
And tbh that whole ass family needs a mental health evaluation either way.
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avocado-writing · 11 months ago
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If you’re still open for prompts, can we get Tav to bring Astarion for shopping, claiming she has no fashion sense, but in truth it’s to make him buy something for himself?
I don’t know if you’ve seen the free cam screenshots, but the inside of Astarion’s test is bleak and messy, and in the lower city camp he’s hanging filthy rags to dry above his tent, like he’s so used to only focusing on his outerwear that he forgot he can actually get himself some nice towels and bedding for personal use.
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notes: what a sweet request! i get so many lovely requests for astarion and it's what he deserves tbh.
words: <1k
rating: T
“I’m not sure why you need me to come with you. Apart from because you’re in need of my stellar company, of course,” Astarion sniffs.
“Well, you have the best taste in camp, and I trust you with this sort of thing. Besides, what were you really planning on doing today apart from irritating Gale?”
Astarion makes a show of putting in a bookmark and slamming his novel closed, looking up properly at where you’ve wandered over to him. He pretends to be a bit irked, but he wasn’t really paying attention to the words in front of him anyway - he was too busy sneaking glances up at you as you helped out around the camp. It’s something he’s been doing a lot recently. His eyes are drawn to you. He is drawn to you. Magnetised. 
But that is far too raw-hearted and personal for you to know, so he’s desperately trying to hide his weakness for you beneath a layer of palette-knifed-on apathy. He suspects it isn’t working.
“Come on,” you continue, your pleading too sweet to be ignored, “it won’t take long. I just need to get a couple of bits for my tent, you know, to spruce it up. Please?”
Astarion groans. Secretly, he doesn’t mind. He’d quite enjoy it, actually. But if you know that then you suddenly have power over him, and the idea of letting someone have power over him again, even if it’s you, scares the unlife out of him.
Still, though. When your eyes are buttery-soft and there’s that furrow in your brow which comes with your sincere confusion, he feels his walls being shattered.
“Fine,” he groans, dramatically, “I suppose you do need some help picking out nice things. Let’s head off, then.”
He tries to ignore the way that his heart does a silly little leap when you light up at the idea.
And so, Astarion lets you drag him into Baldur’s Gate. He is once again overwhelmed with how much he missed the city - not during the times with Cazador, of course, but back in his youth, when he was able to stroll about and shop like this under his own free will. When he had a magistrate’s salary and a healthy portion of it could go on things like this, frivolous and fine things. Maybe he is a little bitter at first as you take him store-to-store, but he soon finds himself relaxing into the joy of a spree; when your hand tangles with his he lets you lead him around, quietly revelling in your delight as you leaf through linens and silks.
Your day together becomes a chorus of, “this one or this one?” holding up bedsheets for him to help you decide between, letting him make a lengthy decision as he tests threadcounts against his alabaster fingers. He helps you pick blankets, new soft towels for when you’re able to bathe (a luxury at the moment, but still…) some sweet-scented candles and incense for your tent to cover the smell of dirt caked into you all. 
He suggests lavender. It’s his favourite.
At the end of the day he watches you count out gold onto the final merchant’s counter before taking a heavy woven tote full of your purchases. It feels like a satisfying venture has been had, but he still feels a bit hollow - after all, your hands are full, and his are achingly empty. 
You stop when you clear the doorway back onto the street, and hold the bags to him.
“What? I’m not carrying your things for you. I’m not Karlach!” he says, appalled. You roll your eyes at him.
“I’m not making you my pack mule, Astarion. I doubt you could be - ” he’s about to interject and bite back at that little jab, but you barrel on regardless, “ - they’re a gift. This is all for you.”
He freezes. Blinks. Eyes drop down to the shopping as if it’s a Mimic, waiting for him to let his guard down so that it can eat his arm.
“All for me?”
You nod, and when he doesn’t move to take the handles, you gently open up his fingers like the petals of a flower and deposit them into his palm instead. 
He feels the weight of the new things. Of his new things. He doesn’t know how to respond. His brain feels blank.
“I have money, you know,” he says, partly defending himself against your kindness, and partly against the idea that you might think he’s in need of charity. You sigh and cross your arms, a sure sign of not taking any of his nonsense right now.
“I know, and I am perfectly capable of giving you a gift because I think you deserve one. There is no trick here, Astarion. I just thought you should have a couple of new bits because you barely buy them for yourself. You’re allowed to have nice things, you know.”
Ah. That hurts him a bit, not because you’re being unkind, but because maybe you’re being truthful. His hands became used to a needle and thread by candlelight, to tiny neat stitches done with such precision it was difficult to notice that anything he mended was ever damaged at all. But he does not live that life any more. He can open himself to the possibility of being pampered again.
He likes that idea.
He retracts his arms, clutching the shopping to his body, as if he’s afraid that you’ll change your mind. You smile at him so brightly that he feels as if you are the sun.
“...Thank you,” he manages, eventually.
“Any time,” you say, and he knows you mean that.
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taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget @hopeful-n-sad
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seasurfacefullofclouds1 · 2 months ago
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I’m an OG fan. I ship L/H but how ships are meant to be - your fave pairing, fun, fantasy, fandom activity, not something to discuss publicly much less with the celebs - but I never interacted much in fandom bc I disliked the bizarre obsession with ships being “real”. The “truth” of their sex/love lives is none of our business & was never their value to me. (i’d be much more interested in the truth about their friendships/coworker dynamics but we’ll never get it.) I drifted from the fandom when they went solo bc I saw how Harry was “Timberlake’ing”. No one seemed to see how calculated & ruthlessly ambitious he is, vapid, & fame obsessed. how he only befriends/dates rich, well-connected people. It’s refreshing to learn that blogs like yours exist - that people see him & see what he did to the other guys. Zayn, Louis, Liam - were all at times villainized and scapegoated while he’s treated like a naive princess who can do no wrong. His interviews are so pointless bc he never answers anything honestly. he’d never admit to being a cokehead who purposely deceived & fucked over the others to make sure he could launch his solo career without competition. Zayn tried to outmaneuver him but didn’t have the powerful team behind him & has too much integrity to ever be the kind of “star” Harry is. tbh I enjoy how much it irks harry that Zayn sees through him. It’s wild how sincere the others stayed, how they matured, how they have bigger priorities than money or fame. Harry mimicked Louis’ personality when they were younger, pretending he couldn’t wait to have kids & marry - when really he just wanted to be as rich, promiscuous, and famous as humanly possible. He bootlicks anyone in showbiz, so he has a glowing reputation in the industry - it’s laughable. “TPWK” unless it’s your bandmates who you can’t deign to acknowledge unless it benefits you - hosting SNL or winning an award? ok, mention the band so you get headlines. But like one of their promo posts or even follow them back on IG? heaven forbid, bc that won’t benefit him more than them. It shows his true character that he’s SO successful but still won’t be openly supportive or even seen with them. I don’t think he’s evil but I do think he’s lost to the industry… which is sad, bc there’s once a lot of sweetness there. His eyes have lost their sparkle; he traded it for “success”.
Hi anon,
I was reading this ask and nodding my head right along each sentence. A lot to unpack here, but mostly you’ve said everything I’ve tried to say. I’m not sure if anyone is listening, to be honest! Like you wrote, blogs who don’t worship Harry never become popular. So here I am talking to the air lol. Insanity.
I don’t think Harry is evil either. I think he realizes the trade-offs now, watching his ex-bandmates’ careers slowly build with intentions very different from his, their old ties fading to nothing except when tragedy yokes them back together. He has gazillions in wealth, industry kissing his feet, a lot of women (+ a few men) fantasizing about him, but nothing inside, the lights gone from his eyes years ago. It must feel awkward to stand next to his bandmates again?
Here’s the thing. I’m sure in every circumstance, forever for the foreseeable future, Louis is always going to be the bigger man and speak well of Harry. No matter how many times Louis refutes the idea of Larry, Louis has always said he’s proud of Harry, and I am sure he means it. 100%. No matter what Harry says or does, Louis considers him part of One Direction, his band, and that concept is sacrosanct to him. “We move as one.”
What Louis has in his heart is worth a million Manchester Co-ops. It is priceless. No one can take it away— no Kardashian money, no Rolling Stone cover, no Anna Wintour, no A-list actress or acting role. Nothing. What Louis has is the feeling of loyalty and unity that is the epitome of the song he wrote, Strong. “I don’t care, I’m not scared of love.” It’s not romantic love, at least not anymore, but what Louis describes in Only The Brave— the love that comes from the deepest pain, from uncomfortable truths, alienation, grief— broken beaks and dead birds— the love that requires moral courage. “Because love is only for the brave.” Louis earned it by going through fire, the love that endures because he chose to respect it, intentionally, over all the other things.
Last, Zayn’s intentionality is also transparent for those who open their eyes and see. I’m glad to see that Zayn is touring, and choosing to play the same smaller venues as Louis when he first started his tour. I’m also glad to see Louis communicating via social media. It’s not actual friendship, but a step! It means so much.
Louis and Zayn aren’t perfect people— far from it— but they chose to stay grounded and chose to preserve some part of their humanity. I know they haven’t always been their best selves. But who they are, especially who Louis is, is so endearing, and so inspiring.
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tofupixel · 7 months ago
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adding on, i really do apologize. reading back i can tell i didn't reiterate enough that the actual work still matters more than anything.
im trying to take this from a place of good faith. it just irks me because i have seen so, so many people who believe they are incapable of art, their brain works too scientifically, some kind of disability that prevents them, and they managed to figure it out in their own way. i also can't see items in my head in 3d (i can see a little but not much) and it never stopped me, but i know some of my friends who also cant at all, and it bothers them greatly.
i don't know you or what you're going through but in my experience some people put pressures on themselves to do things a certain way, but when we are different, we have to find our own way forward.
in the end, who are you racing against? you need to go at your own pace, it doesnt matter if someone gets there faster than you. i know it can be hard to see others succeeding where you struggle, but the only way to actually fail is to give up. it doesnt matter how slow you go as long as you are making something and expressing yourself. try not to focus on the result so much.
whether or not that time investment is worth it to you is another discussion for sure.
sorry for snapping at you. after i just spent 6 hours writing that guide, seeing the first response be something negative actually just pissed me the fuck off. it was like why even bother, i just wanted to delete it tbh
edit: and FWIW the reason i had such fast progress is because i had nothing else to do. i lost my job in 2020 and i would just go homeless and die if i didnt make it work. ive done A LOT of pixel art, more than anybody should reasonably be expected to do, and im speaking from experience.
there is such a thing as quality of practise for sure, but i do believe that time beats everything. i'm not saying it to virtue signal like i think you were implying. someone being slightly more naturally gifted than me has no bearing on my life whatsoever.
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