#me giving the reasons on the addition of my post for liking or not liking certain ships was that serious huh 😭

[alexafaie-asd]

Ok, so I'm kind of exhausted because I couldn't sleep at all last night (couldn't stop thinking how to word this all clearer than I tried to in the comments), but I am going to try to actually talk on this more in full.

Putting it all below a read more because this got very long and most people probably don't actually give a damn about learning about how disabilities can affect people so way easier to let people expand it if they want to read it rather than scroll through just to yell "not reading all of that".

The reason I responded as I did is because if you read the above post, it is saying one thing, but its very obviously pointing at something else. What are they trying to say about a person who does not listen to rap? Well it is probably the big classic gotcha of "if you don't listen to this one singular genre of black music then you are most likely a racist". That's the unspoken part.

But in truth that is a very very narrowminded outlook on why someone might not choose to engage with a genre of music.

I thought that I would give just one reason why someone might not choose to listen to rap which is NOT to do with racism - my own experience with how my auditory processing disorder affects me.

Below is a screen shot of what I wrote:

I unfortunately can not share screen shots of what was written in response as the person has either deleted their comment or decided to block me.

But the gist of it was to ignore most of what I wrote. To insist that I should just try harder. They ignored the examples I gave of genres of black music I absolutely adore (motown and soul being the genres I included but there are others my tired brain couldn't retrieve at the time). They ignored me expressing sadness that I can not process what I am hearing, they ignored that it sounds the same as auctioneer speaking.

So I tried again to explain a bit clearer what I meant by how my auditory processing disorder affects me:

I've tried to listen to different artists and have the same issue each time. To try and explain it clearer, with a lot of rap music (at least what I have been exposed to) there is usually a strong drum line, strong bassline and relatively little melody/instrumentals outside of that. The vocals are within the same kind of frequency range as the bass and drum parts. In addition, the music often makes use of distortion and in the production phase it is often quite heavily compressed.

This means that the vast majority of the sounds in the music are within a very narrow band which can make telling the vocals (mostly spoken not sung) apart from the drum and bass parts actually quite hard for me. It blurs into noise. By noise I mean the acoustical definition of "one that interferes with other sounds that are being listened to".

The suggestion of reading the lyrics would be useful if I could tell where the words are spoken enough to follow along. Or in cases where you might think you're mishearing a word - for example eggs and ex can sound pretty close to one another but would vastly change the meaning of the song so you might look the lyrics up to see what is being said.

But if you can't pick out the vocals properly at all? At that point I would just be reading a poem if I read the lyrics. Nothing wrong with poems, but reading a poem is NOT the same kind of experience as listening to music. I usually listen to music whilst I am doing something else, for example working on my cross stitch. I can't be reading lyrics whilst also following a pattern and sewing. And if I am reading something then I don't have music on in the background because I can not focus on both at the same time. (I also have sensory processing disorder so not only issues with processing sounds, but also other forms of sensory input, particular if they are concurrent). I can't do subtitles when watching something on TV for example.

Back to what I said last night though:

That was me trying to explain more that I'm not *wanting* to have this issue! I tried to discuss how I appreciate that a lot of time and effort and skill goes into creating the music. That I would love to be able to experience it how other people experience it.

I got more responses that ignored that, still treated me like I'm choosing to hate on it for no reason when I am not even hating on it. I am saying I respect the genre! I just can't process it into anything intelligible.

And yet again, someone choosing not to actually read what I said, but act like I'm doing something wrong by not listening to a genre of music that my brain can not process.

Rap is just one of the multitude of facets of what makes up black music. Its just one genre. I can understand having a "maybe this person is racist against black people if they refuse to engage with *any* music created by black people". I would agree. But rap is only the one genre. There is so much more to black music than that. Why is it the one genre than gets people all up in arms crying racist? I don't see people saying it about Motown, or Soul, or Gospel, or Blues, or Funk, or Jazz, or Disco... I don't see people saying it about Work Songs, or Ragtime, or Barbershop, or the OG Rhythm & Blues, or early Rock & Roll. All genres that I have listened to at various points throughout my life. Less so gospel if I am being fully honest, but that's simply because I'm uncomfortable with religious music in general (I'm not a religious person at all), but I would say its the best religious music I have heard.

Ultimately, for me to be able to process what I am hearing, I need the words to be clearly sung, not spoken. I don't do well with processing guttural sounds. Those blend in with drums too much. I don't have much luck being able to process spoken word or poems when read out loud. I also struggle to process audio books so don't listen to those either. And there are white bands whose music I avoid for a similar reason - like Muse for example. I know they are skilled musicians, but all the lyrics sound like "nurrr nuurrr nuurr nurr muurrr drrr brrr nnnrrr nrrr" to me. I can't process what they are saying. I also struggle with Coldplay. Loads of people love them so I'm sure they're doing something right. Can't tell what the fuck they're saying though.

Rap just happens to use multiple things that are hard for me to process. I know they make use of the voice more as rhythm than melody - and that is hard for me to process. And this is all before we talk about the kinds of words used. If it is a word I am familiar with then I am more likely to be able to pick out what is being said. However this isn't always the case. There are plenty of times where my partner has spoken to me and I've had to say "I'm sorry, I heard that you were speaking to me, I saw your lips moving, but I did not process a single word you just said, can you please try and say it in a different way?".

I did get one person trying to actually understand & offer suggestions that I might be able to try:

I can certainly give those a go to see if I can understand them enough to enjoy them.

I've already kind of touched on the "broaden your horizons a bit" thing further up in talking about genres, just of typically black music which I have listened to and enjoyed. And so continue to listen to and enjoy. There's also a wide array of genres I listen to within metal (one of my current faves being Ad Infinitum, Melissa Bonny has such a beautiful voice!) and folk music from around the world. I frequently listen to music in other languages, and generally when the words are sung in a melodic way, I'm able to pick out enough that I can just look at lyrics to figure out the few words I'm struggling with. But there are genres of metal that I avoid entirely for the exact same reason I don't listen to rap. I can't tell what is being said. This even goes for Metallica. I have their S&M album which is so well recorded and produced. I can manage to process a lot more of the words sung in the versions included in this album than the original album versions of the song. Even with the lyrics up I struggle with a lot of their original songs - there's a lot of distortion going on, quite a bit of guitar feedback creating noise, the recordings were done in a very cheap studio and are low quality, making the words not very clear as the vocal range is in a similar frequency band as the music. In comparison, the S&M versions which featured the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra in addition to the band's usual line up (for the time) and that additional melody, plus it being very well recorded (different mics for each instrument) meant that it is much easier for me to pick out what is being sung. I still struggle with some of it, but its enough that I can look up what I am missing. But even knowing the words now, I still don't process them properly if I listen to the original versions of the songs. So I don't listen to the original versions. I listen to the versions I CAN process. Plus the extra melody just makes the songs better even without the lyrics.

I still don't think I have really fully done this justice. It sounded way clearer in my head, but I do struggle with putting the words down as I think them.

But I will try the suggestions @eurekq recommended as they at least have been able to come at it from a place of trying to understand (does help that they have auditory processing disorder too). I can't guarantee I will like any of it of course. I suppose it depends on how strong the melody is. Because I really need a strong melody to enjoy the music.

rap has probably been the most consistently popular and influential genre of music for the past 40+ years but your average person on tumblr is less willing to listen to it than a random white teenage boy in the suburbs or a 4channer who lurks on /mu/ every once in a while

[rabbits-of-negative-euphoria]

that Arab Christian post reminded me:

my dad is living a year in Saudi Arabia for work and we’re requesting prayer that he’ll be able to get in touch with our denomination’s missionaries over there (whose locations/identities are secret for obvious reasons)

[lilypixels]

The audacity of some on here never ceases to amaze me, why do I even try giving benefit of doubt anymore 🤠

Anyway, I’ve been working on all my 100% free, no gimmicks involved, simblreen treats and a bonus gift by end of the month for your spooky babies 👀 and that’s part of why this blogs been pretty quiet

[izzy-b-hands]

My doctor messaging me at 12:30 in the morning to tell me she wants to do a telehealth visit abt the side effects I'm having with my new Lamotrigine dose (including worse insomnia than my usual insomnia, as u may have guessed lmao) is. something.

[papervalentines]

not to be dramatic but I literally feel like I’m going insane lol

[demieddie]

Hi! Your tags on the post about Buck going sober are very relatable! I'm also someone who just doesn't drink without a previous reason making my decision. It would be really cool & refreshing to see that. I think nowerdays it seems to be a lot more "socially acceptable" (ugh that thats a thought for personal choice!) To not drink just because or without having to explain or be pushed about it, which is really great! Anyways, long story short its interesting & basically a "same!" to your tags 😅

hi anon, thank you!!!!! and yeah re: the socially acceptable comment, i think it goes hand in hand with the standard-but-incorrect assumption of “a sober person is sober because they or a family member is an addict”. so it was more taboo to mention sobriety because it would imply this history. we’re getting to a point now, at least where i am, that this immediate connection is slowly dissipating so it’s more of a “no thanks i don’t drink/i don’t want to drink now” vs “here’s a very personal part of my backstory”.

i haven’t looked into this myself (and i imagine covid kinda skews these values a little bc parties weren’t a thing for a few years) but gen z is shaping up to be the most sober generation. i don’t know if this is a chicken-egg situation—are we more sober bc there’s less stigma or is there less stigma bc we’re more sober—but either way i think seeing that choice made intentionally in media would be really good to see. hell, in my tags i said i was sober (there’s more nuance to it but it works for this instance) but i don’t say that in real life. instead, i just get non alcoholic drinks when asked. this is mostly still because saying you don’t drink still feels a bit like a big reveal and i think seeing a similar situation on a large scale show might help normalize it a little more.

[straykats]

/meds talk, mental health as well ig, uhhhhhh

[arolesbianism]

Alright boys pack it up no more rain world posting new oni dlc is coming out in less than a week

[today-i-am-thinking-about]

salamanders

[kurohe]

Things you can do to actively participate in the revolution

Here's the list !

I know some of those will look really silly, i promise they are not. And obviously, this is not a checklist, you don't have to do everything. But they're steps that you can absolutely take if you wish to, and they WILL help.

(i am continually correcting things when people point out mistakes. Thanks everyone for your help)

(under the cut !)

1) Let's start off with a very easy one you can do right now: stop using Chrome. It's a google owned browser, and it sents all of your data towards it. Mozilla is a very good replacement, but almost anything will do, really. Also, resign your amazon prime subscription. We revolting against capitalism as a whole, and this is a good first step to not freely give em your data and money

2) Start stealing things from supermarkets and malls. I am not kidding. Little things, that aren't really monitored: a can of food, a lighter, a pair of socks. Condiments are particularly easy to hide in bags or pockets. Steal hygiene products, steal food.

Remember that you should have access to those for free, and you don't because a few rich guys don't want you to.

Additional tip: train station stores are very easy to steal from, because they're so busy. But don't put yourself in danger. Check beforehand if they check bags at checkout, look out for employees that might notice what you're doing. Don't be reckless.

(edit: imma say this, you should read up on what the risks of stealing are, for you and others. Stealing from big stores is IMO always morally right, but it is risky for many reasons. Be careful)

3) In the same line, if you see someone stealing anything from a big store, no you didn't.

4) I know a lot of people are scared of disrespecting rules. By fear of being caught, or by guilt. My advice is: start disrespecting stupid, meaningless rules. I don't have specific exemples, but you'll encounter them and wonder why you're doing that. Stop doing it. This will train you to be able to disobey autority way easier.

5) Put stickers everywhere. If you already have them, go ham. Especially on public property (lamposts are amazing). If you don't, buy them from artists or independant stores, not big brands. If you cannot afford them, remember that you can simply write stuff on an A4 paper and plaster it to walls. Or even post its !

6) Carry a sharpie with you at all time, the big black ones. If you see propaganda, scribble it out. Keep a look out for terfs stickers, maga posters, etc. Also good for getting rid of transphobic and sexist stuff written on public restroom stalls !

7) Buy locally. This means going to the market or small stores, and thrifting your clothes. If you can't for money or accessibility reasons, try trading with your friends, family and neighbours. Get communication going in your circles, and you'll realise there are a lot of things that you can simply trade with or buy from people around you. Like a jar of jam against some eggs, or a pair of socks for a t-shirt you don't wear anymore !

8) Learn how to sew. I know, that sounds dumb ! But i promise you, not only will it be amazing to trade with other people ("i'll sew back ur shirt and in exchange, you give me a can of peaches !"), corporations also haaaate when you know how to fix your clothes. Because they want you to buy more. You'll spend a lot less money if you know how to fix em

9) If you have the space and the money, grow your own food, and share it or sell it around you. Be careful, some assholes will call the FDA on you. Do that with people you trust.

Additional tip: growing vegetables and fruits can be a real nightmare. You can absolutely start by just growing some basil or mint :)

10) Organise. Join leftist groups online, even if it's just to see what's being said, you don't even need to interact. Follow creators, repost and share their content. By doing that, you'll stay informed on group movements like strikes, protests and boycotts, which you can then participate in. It's very important you're connected to other ppl and the movements that are started !

11) Unionize. I'm very sorry I don't know the exact way unions work in the US, but if you can, join one. They will help you in times of needs, especially if you're a student or a worker. If you're not sure how to do that, absolutely ask around to people you know are very active politically, around you or online. People will help.

12) Stay. Informed. Follow independant papers and news outlet. If you can afford it, give them a dollar or two. They are fighting everyday for access to unbiased information for all, and sadly, their independance means that they rely almost entirely on donations and people simply engaging with what they put out.

If you can't access those: do not get your news from TV. Ever. Or anywhere else that has been bought by the far right. Sadly, the majority of TV channels are just the worst.

And, most importantly: fact check. All of the time.

13) Share that information. Talk to those you trust and who are ready to listen to you, and tell them about what's happening. Get angry with them. Revolution stems from people coming together and realising that they're being used and profited off of. Share videos and posts relating to politics, especially informative videos.

14) Go to protests ! If you've never been, i know it can be scary. But you can stay in the middle (don't go all the way to the front, that's where stuff can get heated) and scream and walk with everyone else. You'll meet people who, like you, want things to change. Capitalism wants you to stay as unconnected to others as possible, and that's a great way to fight that.

Sometimes, there are sites that have a planning for all protests happening in a city. Look up if one exists for yours

15) Create and strenghten community. I know i really struggled with this one, because it's so vague. But here's a few places you can start:

-Go and introduce yourself to your neighbours, if you deem it safe. Give them a little gift if you can afford it, like a pack of pasta.

-Make new friends, even if they aren't deep friendships. You need connections. Online or irl, both are fine- don't stay isolated.

-If you already have community, go check on them right now. Ask your friends how they're doing, and if they need anything- ask how they're being impacted by what's happening right now politically.

16) Look for ways to fuck over the institutions in easy ways. One example that went around tumblr a lot is letting dandelions grow in your backyard, because landlords fucking hate it. If you work in retail or fast food, cheat. Accidentally forget to scan the diapers. Put in 7 nuggets instead of 6.

(edit: been told that it's very risky for walmart workers to not scan things, so beware.)

17) Engage in art. MAKE art. Music, shitty paint drawings, craft, anything as long as you're being creative. Share it. If you feel like you can't do that, then support artists. Make a point to look up cool illustrations, and new music. Go to the cinema.

If you're an artist currently in an underpaid office job, please, by the love of god, be creative during office hours. You're underpaid, they do not deserve your full time and attention. Take 30 minutes to write that snippet you've been thinking about.

(and actually, if you're underpaid at all: do the minimum required. So that you can't be fired, but that's it. Any more effort is not worth it. Companies will never be thankful for what you do.)

18) Look up books that your state banned, and go read them. You can get them secondhand, or as pdfs online. (if anyone needs ressources, i will glady look for and share them.)

And, actually, read books in general if you can. Yes, fanfics count !

19) Seek education. There's a lot of youtube channels out there talking about educational subjects in a fun way. Some things the rich assholes who run the country specifically don't want you to learn more about are: biology, history and archeology, social and economic sciences. GO LEARN ABOUT THOSE.

The people in power don't want you to be educated. It's why they eviscerated the education system.

20) PIRATE. I cannot stress this enough, anything you can pirate (that isn't from small, indie creators, except if you absolutely can't afford it) do it. Download music illegally, torrent movies and games. If you want access to academical studies and papers, some writers will give them to you for free if you email them about it. There are also ways to go around paywalls.

21) Don't fall for the traps of "progressive brands". Lately, i've seen a lot of praise for Ben and Jerry's for openly supporting lgbtq rights and being globally anti-trump. They are still a brand. Avoid buying from any big names when you can. That being said, if you have to, check beforehand which ones and what their history is. Some are more evil than others.

Additional tip: a lot of brands you see in stores are actually owned by bigger brands. One prime example of this is Nestle, who are fucking evil, but they own a shitload of other big names. Be careful what you buy.

22) I hate to say this, but be prepared to defend yourself. Revolutions are never peaceful. You will get in danger. If you can, get in ok physical shape. If you can't, buy a gun. (Remember Alabama has a 99% acceptation rate, you can get one in 10 minutes.) I hate firearms, but the enemy will have them too. Arm yourself.

If none of those are available options to you, please, make sure you have someone around you that will be able to protect you, or a place where you can be safe. Whether you are disabled, a minor, or anything else. Don't put yourself in more danger than is necessary.

23) Last but not least, be kind. When someone cuts off a woman speaking, interrupt and give her the floor back. Shame those who think it's right to say bigoted shit in public. Listen to those around you. If you can't act, then remember to always have empathy for the homeless, for drug users, for immigrants. Understand they are people just like you. You are not immune to propaganda and prejudice, no matter who you are. Always question yourself and your biases.

(if you've read this far, please repost. We need this to reach as many people as possible)

I want to remind you that you're not alone. I know things seem hopeless, but the simple fact that you're reading this is proof it's not. I don't live in the US, but i'm supporting you as best i can from where i am, and sending you strenght.

If you have any questions, do ask away. I'll end on this image that's very dear to me:

[pomefioredove]

need overblot boys with epel, and floyd with a reader that randomly lore drops as if they're an old dad like "yeah lol my old school had a shooting once....anyways *SNOREE*" and when asked they just agree and walk away and never elaborate whatsoever💀 if you feel uncomfortable feel free to delete or ignore‼️love ya pookie💥

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ a reader with a backstory

I got u 🫡🫡

summary: wacky reader lore type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, floyd, jamil, vil, epel, idia, malleus additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

you find new ways to raise Riddle's blood pressure every day

little guy is worried enough as it is

you've already got your school work, taking care of Ramshackle, taking care of Grim, taking care of all the other freshmen, taking care of-

well... you get it

the last thing he needs is to hear another one of your stories

"oh, yeah, that's like the time I got stabbed"

"????? WHAT??"

what's entertaining to you and ADeuce is mortifying to Riddle

if you're not careful you'll end up sleeping on the floor in his room

where he can keep a close eye on you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you're like Leona's little court jester

and he takes you with him everywhere

it's not easy to get a genuine laugh out of him, after all

besides, what's so bad about a little dark humor? it's not like you died or anything

he knows you're a resilient little thing

and you seem to love telling him about "that time you crawled into a drainage pipe", anyway

you make him laugh; he likes you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul indulges you

his white noise machine stopped working last month and you make for excellent background ambience

so, he lets you talk yourself in circles about your school work, your friends, Grim, Grim again

and then you drop the most HEINOUS bombshells in the middle

"blah blah blah Grim, blah blah Crowley, blah blah, that one time I got lost in the woods for a day, blah blah-"

he loses his train of thought every time

now, Floyd is the complete opposite

he will hyperfocus on the most mundane details

and ignore the bombshells

will give you an, "oh, that's cool" to your ghost story but will find you the pair of socks you mentioned liking three months ago

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jamil is just fascinated by you

you as a person, of course

but also the fact that you're still alive

one night, he's explaining the reason he makes all of Kalim's food and you're like

"oh, yeah, I get it. I got mold poisoning once and hallucinated for a week"

?????

then you go right back to asking him about the recipe

sitting on the counter, as happy as could be

"HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE!!!"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil is used to this

he knows that look on your face

he will shush you with a finger to your lips before you even start

"don't tell me, I'm stressed enough as it is"

he's going to break out if you keep at it

he finds you quite... macabre

which is entertaining until he sees you going down a flight of stairs without holding onto the railing and remembers all those stories you'd told him

he's just... concerned for you, that's all

and he does NOT appreciate Epel for encouraging it

"tell us more about the time you fell down that hill into that pile of rocks, Prefect!"

:D

like a kid in a candy store

learning new Lore is like the highlight of his week

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"talk about having a high luck stat..."

Idia is more entertained than anything

he thought these kinds of things only happened in anime, but...

...there you are

it sounds like you experience more in a single month than he has in his whole life

and you know what?

GOOD

you can keep your freaky real-world experiences!

he'll just live vicariously through you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

poor Malleus

he's been putting so much effort into learning and blending with human culture, and now here you are with your terrifying stories

you tell him in such earnest, too

you seem so... unbothered by it

perhaps humans are less fragile than he thought?

of course, he shouldn't have underestimated you in the first place :)!

then you come over for dinner one night

"hahah, yeah, last time I was at someone's house their grandma threw a lamp at my head and I got a concussion"

Silver and Sebek both go >_>

Lilia goes <_<

and then Malleus is there like, "ah, another fascinating tale :)"

[sinsofnivan]

INTOXICATION .ᐟ — RE Men x YOU.

SUMMARY: just horny resident evil blurbs where they're all pussydrunk. <3

PAIRINGS: LEON S. KENNEDY/Reader, LUIS SERRA/Reader, CHRIS REDFIELD/Reader, ALBERT WESKER/Reader, JACK KRAUSER/Reader, CARLOS OLIVEIRA/Reader

WARNINGS: female reader, nsfw themes, PROBABLY inaccurate anatomy, unprotected sex ( wrap it before u tap it folks. ), begging, breeding && Daddy kink, cunnilingus, angry makeup sex, size kink/difference, cervix fucking,

author's note: this is my first post. :) sorry if it's not that flourished . . .

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ NSFW UNDER THE CUT. ┈┈┈┈

LEON S KENNEDY .ᐟ

leon has seen — and will see more — monsters and cruelty beyond human recognition. both you and him think it's a pretty valid reason to not have children yet.

he knows contraceptives and birth control isn't a hundred percent effective, so he always played it safe: cumming on your face, giving you a good throatpie, covering your back and/or tummy with his warm cum . . .

so one could imagine the look of surprise on his face when you wrapped your pretty legs around him.

⟡

"baby, fuck! what're you- what're you doing?"

leon snaps from his fucked out haze, eyes suddenly wide and open as he watched you in your familiar fervour. "leon, please, please, Daddy. breed me. want your cum," you begged for it like you needed it; the shiny gloss of your tears only made you look so much prettier, he thinks . . . how could he resist such an angel like you?

"baby, we- we . . " he physically cannot muster that he can't. because can, and he will. the rough snapping of his hips never faltered, mind and body fueled with the need to breed you, to stuff you full until you leaked. "don't pull out—♡.ᐟ "

your begging alone was irresistible, and with the additional hypnotizing vice you had around his girth — the word no didn't even exist in his head. "yeah? y , y'want it that bad?" nod, nod.

you whined when he pulls out, partly from disappointment and feeling empty without him. you thought you'd be triumphant. just as you were about to call for him, however, your knees are pressed against your chest, and the familiar grip on your hips were now on the back of your knees.

it's not the stretch that makes your eyes wide, but the feeling of his tip pressed directly against your cervix. a premature orgasm rips through you and turning your brain into mush. completely, this time; leon was there to witness this, brows furrowed together and resisting the urge to let his eyes roll back so he can see your beautiful face.

his pounding resumes, skin sinfully slapping against skin, cock grazing your most sensitive spots with each needy rut. "i'll fucking breed you, angel. how do you like that?" your legs are high, higher up, now that he's leaning forward to have a closer look on your pretty face.

"Y/N," he chants like a prayer. he needs you like he hasn't needed before, forever and always. "leoooooon, love you — i love you," you sobbed, nails marking crescents on his shoulders, biceps. you feel so fucking full, you can't even think. just him and how good it'd feel to have his semen leaking out of your folds.

"fuuuuck, baby. you're drivin' me crazy. i love you too,"

his hips are aching, but that doesn't stop him from ramming himself completely deep into you. it won't stop him, because all he can think of is to fuck you stupid, fuck you full.

there's nothing coherent that follows, just pure, absolute filth. you're drooling, and leon's tongue is cleaning up your mess, like he's not drooling with you. his orgasm's nearing, thrusts getting noticeably sloppy and unrhythmic, but still forceful; compensating for the lack of speed.

"'m gonna cum, darling. ah—! beg for it. beg for it like a good girl,"

your pleading resonates in the room. if you could emphasize it with a wrap of your legs, you would have done so already. but your legs feel numb. y'can't move, not with his body weight forcing them up.

"pleeeeease, pleasepleasepleaseplease. need it! need'a be bred, please,"

leon would have come up with a witty remark, but all that comes from him is a groan whilst he buried himself balls deep into you. he's not pent up or anything, not even close, but he knows he's cumming lots. because despite being fully sheathed inside you, it's leaking everywhere. he rides out his high with slow, shallow thrusts, cum spilling with every push of his cock.

he's regaining awareness, taking in deep breaths. his eyes glaze over your figure, pretty much in the same state of post-sex euphoria as you. "Y/N," he mutters, letting your legs down slowly. the wince on your face tells him you're awake, and he cups your face.

"Y/N, baby,"

a thumb caresses your cheek. "—talk to me," leon sighs in relief when you grinned at him. "hi, baby," you croaked groggily. leon began to massage your thighs, kissing your neck. "i'm sorry i got carried away," and the night is spent with you cradled by his strong arms and comforted with his usual sweetness.

now, he's left with an addiction for giving you endless creampies.

LUIS SERRA .ᐟ

GIF by entreri

your pleasure comes first before everything. 

before he's buried deep and you're stretched out from his cock, your cunt's all soaked and prepped from the amount of foreplay he gives you. it's more than just wanting to prepare you. to luis, it's a requirement. having the taste of your pussy and cum on his lips was mandatory. he can't neglect his prinsesa like this.

why would he deprive you of his tongue? his fingers? he likes taking his sweet, sweet time in watching you crumble into nothing for him, only for him.

⟡

"luis!"

how many times have you creamed and gushed all over your lover's face? you can't recall. you don't even know how long he's been lapping at your cunt, but luis continues to coax out orgasm after orgasm from you.

he basks in your reactions each and every time, peering up at you just to watch you writhe from his tongue, how your body arches when you've reached your sinful crescendo, how your eyes roll back to the pits of your skull while you scream his name . . .

every man has his needs, and it's hard to create balance when the need to taste your pussy and your cum is equally as strong as the need to give his cock some sweet relief; after it's been painfully hard for an hour now. it twitches every now and then, aching for you. your touch. your lips, hands . . . "dios mio, chica," he pulls away to spit on your pretty, glistening cunt. "por favor, bebé. te necesito." he's desperate to relieve this ache, to feel that sweet release, but he just can't stop. too addicted. too drunk.  

he compromises, your bliss coming first before his. his tongue laps up at your clit — the sensitive bud all puffy and twitchy from how much he's made you gush for the past hour. you feel so breathless. so lightheaded. still, it didn't stop you from begging your handsome lover. "luiiiis, pleeeease, want your cock." 

his response? delving his tongue into your folds; tongue tracing your creamy slit and cleaning up the mess you've made. "shhhhh, prinsesa." luis says with a mouthful of cunt, nose brushing against your clit everytime he tried to clean up every drop of your slick. your wails only grow louder, weakness taking over as your legs close in on him. luis feels his breath hitch in his throat. 

not just from the prolonged use of his skilled mouth. but because your thighs crushed him. effectively.

can't breathe, can't breathe, can't breathe, can't breathe . . .  

his hands have a mind of its own at this point, because a mere minute had passed, and he had already undone his pants to pull his cock out. his moan reverberates against your cunt, and it only makes you cry out, pulling on greying tresses. you can't think straight anymore. all you can think of is luis . . . .

he's determined to make you cum again, lips latching on to your clit. he's determined to make you fall apart for him again. his stubble rubs against your soft skin, a harsh contrast from his gentleness, but the burn only makes it all the more enjoyable. "cum, bebé," he says, hollowing his cheeks. your legs only tighten involuntarily, too responsive to his stimulation. luis kept his eyes on you, grunting against your pussy as he fucked his fist. he can't help it anymore, mami.

"oh, bebé,"

if only you could see how he desperately fucked his fist. he was such a good lover for you. it can't compare to your cunt, never — but beggars can't be choosers. you were so lost in your own euphoria, you swore you're seeing stars.He just growls against your folds, eager to make you cream on his face again.

"pleease, mami. cum for me. squirt on my face," 

"oh, luis! fuck! 'm cumming! cummingcummingcummingggg! hnhggh—♡!"

neither of you made sense to each other, engulfed with overwhelming bliss that washes over you — and, well, luis's face. it didn't matter, however, as you two knew your bodies and loved each other beyond words. you didn't need to tell him how good he made you feel, when your shaking legs already spoke on your behalf. 

as soon as luis feels your juices soak his chin, cheeks, hell, everywhere—he can't help but spill his cum into his hand, high-pitched cries buzzing against your pulsating cunt. he rides out your climax with gentle kisses on your spasming clit, each kiss helping you ride out your high. he found it cute how your body spasmed with every brush of his lips and stubble.

he rises to meet you, lips leaving trails of wet kisses along your body. "bonita," he whispered against your stomach, gently nibbling on the soft flesh. everything is blurry for you, with luis being the only clear picture in your eyes. you bite your lip. he goes higher, 'till ivory meets your hardened bud; fingertips toying with the other. "luiiiis, gimme - gimme kiss," you whined, holding his face. "'m here, prinsesa. i'm here," finally, fucking finally, you and luis are face to face. 

"i love youu. love you, baby. i love you so so much," 

"i love you too, mi amor." 

you can't help but grin when you feel his cock—still hard and leaking pre—rest against your cunt.

CHRIS REDFIELD .ᐟ

despite how he hulked over pretty much you and . . well, everyone, chris was a gentle giant. or tried his best to be one. it didn't help that he was naturally strong and bigger than you. his whole figure pretty much eclipsed over your frame, with his hand engulfing the entirety of your own, shoulders enough to keep you out of sight from wandering eyes . . . if he didn't keep in mind to handle you gently, he could practically crush you. 

mind? 

what mind? 

"c , chris!" 

you pathetically drooled all over his bicep as he pounded you from behind. his whole body weight was on top of you in a caging pronebone, with a headlock to completely lock you in place. "Y , Y/N, my baby girl," he whispered, nipping the shell of your ear. "your cunt feels good. i love you. i love you . .  love fucking you," he mutters dumbly as he kept shoving his cock deep into you. you knew he was still—at the very least—still keeping in mind to not crush you, because the bicep arm around your neck barely took your breath away. 

his thrusts did.

every push in knocked out the breath out of your lungs, cunt nicely wrapping around his girth. no matter how much prep he gives, you always ended up squirming because the stretch was like no other. it reached places no toy or finger ever could—the tip threatening to bully its way past your cervix. 

his head is placed between the nook of your shoulder, breathing heavily against your neck as his stubble grazed over your skin. your skin is littered with bites, especially the shoulder that was within his teeth and tongue''s reach; the outline of his teeth covered in a thin layer of his spit. 

you weakly held on to his forearms, feeling yourself creaming around it. but you just can't help it—the drag of his cock against your walls was so fucking heavenly, you could have sworn you saw white for a brief moment. 

"p , pretty cunt's all messy, baby," 

chris stammers, shamelessly moaning into your ear and immediately latching on to your earlobe, can't keep his mouth unoccupied for more than a minute. especially if it's you. he can't stop kissing you. can't stop tasting you. 

can't stop fucking you.

you were helplessly pinned beneath his body—and you didn't possess half the strength to push him off. it made your cunt twitch thinking about being trapped under him, forced to take the pleasure, forced to take the stretch of your cunt . . . 

"f , fuck! don't—don't do that. 'm gonna cum, b , baby,"

"h , huh?"

before you could question him any further, his hips began to pick up the pace, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin intensified. "pleeaaaasepleaseplease, Y/N," he's acting like you were stopping him from whatever he wanted to do. "please. just let me cum in you. let me breed you. fuck, fuuuck. 'm gonna make you a mama," 

there's no thought behind every word he's spewing, and his body's moving purely on feral instict. "you'd. hnnngh. oh my god—make s , such a good housewife." chris is whimpering, fucking yearning to breed you as he envisions you as his wife. mrs. redfield. you can't speak a word in his filthy rambling, but it wasn't like you had the coherence to butt in. your eyes are rolled to the back of your head and your mouth would be wide open if his arm and bicep didn't mush your cheeks together.

"oh . . oh fuck. fuck. i l , loveee you. love you . . " 

he's lost count from how many times he's confessed how much he wants to marry you, how much he loves you, and who actually keeps count, anyway. all it mattered was your pleasure and his as he pounded you into the mattress. "love you too, chris! hnnnng—♡.ᐟ" 

there's something with the way you said it, or maybe he's just that in love with you. he can't help it, his arm tightening around your neck as he buried himself deep with a loud whimper of your name. you gasped for air, feeling even more full. 

but you didn't get to cum. he doesn't feel the familiar flutter of your walls, or the feeling of you soaking his cock for the nth time. who was he, if he couldn't fuffill your needs?

even in the midst of his overstimulation, he's trying his best to keep thrusting into you. "b , baby. please, need you to cum for me," he breathed out between gasps. "gotta be a good husband. gotta make you cum," like you hadn't been squirting for him since before he had you pinned under him. 

"y, you don't have t—!"

your words are knocked out from you as he began to ram into you harder. 'till your ass was red. 'till he's finally breaking the protective barrier of your cervix. 'till you're

"cumming—♡.ᐟ "

your eyes are wide open, mouth agape and dripping with spit. your cunt's helplessly gushing for him, clenching down on him ridiculously tight. "that's it. that's it, baby. such a good baby. you're so fucking m , messy, jesus chriiist," 

your mind's gone, and so is your remaining strength, body completely enervated as your head rests on his arm. nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck, Chris began to place kisses on his jaw. The sensation of his rough stubble confirms you're awake, albeit feeling very lightheaded and almost dizzy. 

you don't know how long you two laid there. It was probably just minutes, but felt like hours, up until chris had pulled away from you. you feel his cum ooze out of your cunt, and you whine. 

"shh. shh. 'm here, baby. i'm here," 

chris helps flip you over to your back, and you groggily wrapped your arms around him. "are you alright?" chris caresses your cheek, before bestowing a kiss on your forehead. "i'm here. i'm here. do you want water?" 

you shook your head, only pulling him to you. he settles you under his arm, securing you with another muscular arm wrapped atop your body. "did you mean it?" you murmured weakly against his chest. chris only rubbed your back. "i wanted to be a husband?" you can feel the rumble of chris's chuckle. you nod. "of course, baby." chris tilts your chin up, tucking your locks behind your ear. 

"i love you so much. i'd love to spend the rest of eternity with you,"

you hid your face, embarrassed. "chriiiis," your boyfriend laughs at your cute reaction. "you're so cheesy," "whaaat, it's true!" you puff your cheeks out. "i'd love to spend the rest of my life with you too . . . "

good. because the ring was just resting nicely in the back of your nightstand's drawer.

ALBERT WESKER .ᐟ

wesker is strict. firm. what he says goes, beyond shadow of doubt. so when he tells you to not run your shoe up his leg, don't do it. There's a disappointed click of his tongue when your disobedience persists, your stilettos rubbing against his shin. "this is a professional dinner, Y/N." you can't see it, but you can feel his eyes piercing daggers into you. "hm?" you blink up at him so deceivingly sweet and innocent. "i know. the food tastes great, no?" you can't help but grin when you see him clench his jaw. 

wesker is strict. firm. 

but that's because there's nothing he enjoys more than breaking his brat into a drooling, mindless mess.

smack! 

"f , four!" 

you're settled on wesker's lap, legs parted as per his request ( demand, actually. ). 

you held on to your lover's arm for dear life, glancing over at your reddening cunt that Wesker's been leaving harsh spanks on. "are you gonna be good, pet?" you nodded vigorously, trying to hide the fact that your eyes were tearing up from his mean treatment. 

"really? I don't believe you."

SMACK! 

"i , i promise I won't do it again, sir!" you cried out. shutting your eyes, you braced yourself for the next slap that was to come. But you feel him slide two fingers into you instead. "you're fucking wet." Wesker spat, curling his fingers up. it squelches lewdly, your cream smearing all over his palm. "see?" It's obvious where Wesker was looking, because his other hand ensnares your jaw once he realizes your eyes had rolled back to your skull. 

"see?"

you swallowed nervously, nodding. "look at your messy fucking cunt." without any further warnings, he began to ram his fingers knuckle-deep into you. not slow or merciful, no, none of that. hard and forceful, as if to burn a lesson into that mischievous head of yours. 

"are you gonna keep acting like a brat?" Wesker growled, squishing your cheeks together with his hand. "no, sir! 'm s , sorry!" Wesker laughed at your pathetic apology, purposefully grazing his palm against your puffy clit. "I could almost feel bad for you." he cooed mockingly. "but this is your fault. the consequences of your actions." 

he continued to thrust his fingers—quite inhumanely, one might add—the room filled with the filthy harmony of your whimpers and the squelching of your pretty pussy. you're trying your very best to keep your eyes open, but the best you could do was look down at your soaking folds with a lidded gaze. it didn't help that you could feel your climax quickly building up.  "what do you say, slut?" he forces you to stay conscious, tapping your cheek with his four fingers. his thumb instinctively traced your spit-soaked lips. you're no better, parting them as soon as you feel the phalange. 

"i'm shooorry! w , won't do it again! i'll — ohmygod — be good!" 

your body shakes, a garbled squeal escaping your pretty lips as his fingertips curl up to your most sensitive spots. his gaze is to you, his pretty girl, how gorgeous you looked falling apart on him. Of course, he doesn't miss how you roll your eyes back uncontrollably. Wesker lets this slide, because he adores how fucked out you look. 

"look at me. Are you gonna cum, pet?" Wesker tantalizingly grazed the pad of his thumb against your clit. you look so pretty looking up at him with wide eyes as he urges you closer to your climax. "y , yes sir!" you whimpered. "yeah? gonna make a mess on my fingers, pretty?" you nodded, and oh my days, the way you held on to his forearm and nuzzled your face into him was so fucking adorable, wesker can't help but feel the warmth spread on his cheeks. 

too bad he's still gotta discipline you. 

just as you were about to reach that delicious release, you squealed as he harshly pulled his fingers out. It leaves your cunt empty and aching. "bad girls don't get to cum on sir's fingers." 

instead, he smacks your cunt again. you clench around nothing, eyes watering as desperation ran through your veins. "pleasepleaseplease," the spanks you once dread, you were now looking for; the infliction on your clit enough to prolong your incoming orgasm. 

"wanna cum. please sir, wanna cum. pleasepleaseplease," you tugged on his arm, and wesker lets out a shaky exhale, not realizing he had been holding his breath this whole time. raising his hand, he strikes your cunt again, and you yelped. "you . . you like this, pet?" he won't lie, you're making his facade break."yes! please, please, i just wanna cum," you sobbed, salty tears completing your fucked out look. wesker spanks your cunt again, and again, and agai—

you screamed, with a sinful bliss trickling down your back as you arch. you're gushing everywhere, all from his mere spanking. his head dips to claim your lips, tongue first; and it doesn't surprise you when you feel him slowly stuff your mouth as his tongue elongates.

you suck on it, no matter how messy it made you: chin dribbling with sloppy drool, lipstick smearing everywhere . . . your cheeks hollow, and you groaned when his fingers began to rub figure eights on your clit again. "mffh—!" still overstimulated and aching from your ruined orgasm, your hand encircles his wrist. but you didn't possess half the strength to pry his hand away. 

he slides his creamy fingers again back into you again, back to mercilessly fingerfucking you. his tongue only muffles your cries of pleasure, and wesker can't stop literally fucking shoving his tongue down your throat. 'specially when he feels your pussy tighten up as he fills your mouth. it's so filthy, wesker knows he's fucking fantasizing about this for days on end. his cock aches, leaking pre just for you. 

only for you. 

much to your displeasure, he's emptying your mouth; monstrous tongue retracting and at the very least, allowing you to breathe. "you're gonna cum for me again, pet." he purred, licking the sweat dripping on your cheek.

"i forgive you, pretty. only if you do one thing for me." he nipped at the apple of your cheek, a grin gracing his face. you whined when he pauses, but it was to probably give you time for your mind to function. 

"who owns you?" 

you feel that flutter in your tummy, and you mutter a soft: "you do . . . "

"sorry, can't hear you. speak up, pet." 

and as if to further tease you, his fingers begin its harsh thrusting again. "y , you do!" you said in one breath, in between wails and gasping. "i do, what?" he smirked smugly, chuckling against your cheek. "you— nghggh! you—!" "i . . i what, pet?" "you own me! you own my body!" 

and of course, your body knows; cunt quivering for the second time and squirting all over his digits again. "there we go, pretty. oh, your pussy's so messy." his thumb caressed your clit, trying to draw out your orgasm. you've been so good for him, he thinks you deserve it.

"there we go. i know, i know. s'too much, isn't it?" his comforting voice is so misleading, like there wasn't a lot of sadistic, unholy thoughts running through his head right now. "shh, shh. you did so well." he kindly helps you ride out your high with gentle strokes of his fingers. 

you're exhausted, mass completely resting on his frame as you tried to catch your breath. you huffed when you slowly feel him sliding his fingers out of you, the simplest movements still too much for your poor, overstimulated cunt. 

"you did so well,"

you're lucid, for the most part; feeling him turn you around so you would be facing him. He rubbed your curves, tracing the dimple on your lower back. 

"sleep, my love. i'll be here." 

JACK KRAUSER .ᐟ

you can fight with krauser with just about anything. krauser, with his hot-headedness, and you, with a similar temper and a venomous tongue. your arguments, especially the big ones, always ended up ugly. no matter how many times he held you, kissed your tears away, and apologized and vice versa, it never failed to send you crying or him walking out. 

and you don't even know why you both keep coming back to each other. giving each other chances like tomorrow will be any different. 

"i fucking hate you. i fucking hate this!" 

this was new. krauser's brows narrow together in a scowl. despite the hurl of insults you've thrown at each other, you never . . .  you never said that to him.

did you really mean that? did he really lose you this time?

you jabbed a finger on his muscular chest. "i'm fucking tired of you. i'm sick of you being so fucking angry all the time and so fucking possessive and so—!" you only just realized what you said when you saw the hurt look on krauser's face. why did he look so . . . sad? it made your heart sink in your stomach. "say that again," you begin to take a few steps back as krauser's hulking frame loomed over you like an impending doom. 

" j , jack, i—,"

your back hits the cold wall, and a pair of muscular arms cage you in place. you couldn't mutter another word when he suddenly threw your body over his shoulder. "hey!" you groaned. 

a hand slapped your clothed rear, before the both of your figures disappeared into the darkness of your bedroom. 

⟡

"say it again, i fucking dare you!"

you pretty much drooled all over the bed as krauser's big, strong hand held your head down. it made breathing more difficult, movement more restricted, but he was successful in shutting you up—which was probably krauser's goal. each slam of his cock was harder than the last, and your poor body can't keep up with krauser's rough treatment.

"you're jus' a big fuckin' brat." he growled, emphasizing each word with a harsh thrust, pinning your wrists behind you. his grip was bruising. crushing, even. and very, very angry.  "need'a—oh . . . —fuck some manners into you, clearly." your moans are muffled, and you hear an amused chuckle from behind you; and without warning, he yanks your hair and forced your body to a difficult arch. . you were so beautiful in krauser's eyes.

"y'got somethin' to say, bitch?" the timbre of his hoarse voice is enough to send shivers down your spine; and of course, his pace was more merciless, more . . . . inhumane. how you were still able to form sentences—if you could call it that—you didn't know. "h, haateyouuu!" you grunt out in one breath. "no you don't, baby." both your scalp and body finds relief as he released you. if he hadn't held your hips in place, you would have collapsed on the bed. 

there's a lot of shifting behind you that you don't see, up until he forces you to flip and lay on your back. once again, you're met with that stupid shit-eating grin on his handsome, scarred face. before you can even utter an insult, you feel him deep in your fucking guts. 

he's amused at your stupefied expression—wide, gorgeous eyes with tears beading at the ends of each strand of lash. your face alone could have sent him into an orgasm, but the fun can’t end so quickly, especially when he wasn't done proving his point.  “fuck, baby. you’re so—hnngg—wet,” with that, his rough pounding resumes; the bed creaking with every reckless thrusts he gives you. 

"oh, fuck!" you cried out, instinctively reaching out to wrap your arms around him—except, it ends up having both of your wrists pinned above your head. it's quick, and you don't even register it until you realize you had nothing to scratch on. "l , let me g- oh—♡! y, you fucking prick!" "stop fucking talking, you fucking brat!" spiteful is he, his pounding picking up pace and force. it made you dizzy. made your brain mush. made you moan for him louder; and as soon as he sees that pretty tongue lull out, krauser naturally has to spit into it. and you, well, naturally swallow it. 

the way you whimpered for him, how your body was so vulnerable for him, and only for him, and so submissive under his mercy . . . it triggers something animalistic in krauser. something primal. 

he feels the cold trail of drool drip from the side of his lip, and just as you thought he couldn't fuck into you harder, he was. his tip's literally pressing into your cervix. "you're g , gonna break me—♡!" krauser keeps rutting into you like a starved beast, the pleasure so fucking addicting. 

"gonna—," his words are interrupted by low growls and heavy breathing. "gonna fucking ruin you. you're mine," your pussy shouldn't reflexively clamp down on him, but it fucking does, and he loves it. "take it back."

you blink.

. . . huh?

"i didn't —god, fucking stutter. take it back!" "i don't — ahnnn— hate you!" krauser shakes his head. "no, no. t , that's not enough," you squealed when his thumb rolls over your clit. "say you love me," the added sensation makes you scream. "say you fucking love me, please," krauser whined, and you didn't know you liked that until . . now. 

"quit fucking around, Y/N!" he impatiently snarled, grabbing your thighs and pushing it to its limit; 'till your ankles were beside your ears. "w , wait—oh fuuuuck—♡!" stars fill your vision as soon as his cock slams back into you. "say you love me, c'moooon, don't be fucking stubborn," 

how could you say it, when each slam of his hips drew out nothing but fucked out whimpers from you? "i love you," yet, he fucked you like he hated you. and you despised the way it made your cunt flutter as it promises both you and him an orgasm. 

"yeah? you like that? i love you," as if your folded position wasn't difficult enough, him leaning down to capture your lips just makes you even more breathless. but you kiss him back. your lips yearn for him like air, and the best you could reciprocate it was a mere glide of your wet muscle; to which krauser didn't really mind. 

"i love you—! fucking love you, love f , fucking you." he says, thrusts frantic and relentless. "love , , l , love—," you pant, nails sinking into his forearms. "i love . .  fuck, fuuuuuck— i love you too—," you've never heard krauser whine that loud, but he does, sloppily thrusting into you as his orgasm takes over; cumming the hardest he's ever been.

"come on, baby. cum for me," he whimpered, face contorting in overstimulated bliss as he continued his thrusts. seeing him this needy and desperate to make you feel good made your stomach flutter.  "i love you," he whispered, placing kisses on your temple, on your forehead, anywhere his lips could reach.

"s , soooo fucking much,"

the way the tip grazes again and again and fucking again on your most sensitive. deepest parts makes you squeal, makes you wail. only he could reduce you to this whimpering mess. "'m close, baby. right there. don't stop—♡!" 

ragged breaths and feral grunts turn into high-pitched whining, krauser's cock aching from pleasure. too much pleasure. but his hips won't stop moving, can't stop driving himself deeper into you. "love you—love youuu," you babbled mindlessly, completely forgetting whatever grievance you held for him, and vice versa. his cock aches. throbs. the sensitivity should be too much, but his hips keep slamming into you.

and judging how he doesn't look any less tired . . . you were in for a long, long night.

CARLOS OLIVEIRA .ᐟ

carlos pretty much worships the ground you walk on. he thinks you're the best thing that has happened to him, and my god, this man will spoil you rotten. the moment his eyes laid upon your gorgeous face, he knew he didn't want to live in cold, cruel, Y/N-less world. after your second date, he's made up his mind. he will marry you, in due time. 

for now, he can settle with the domestic life of living together, doing your groceries together, cleaning the house to your favourite songs and slow dancing mid-vacuum.

"hey babe?"

"yeah?"

he switches the vacuum off, the shiny foil atop your night table catching carlos's eye. if he's not mistaken, this was your birth control. upon a closer look, it seemed . . . untouched. was this an old batch? did you forget? he looks over at you, putting away your clothes in the closet. 

"babe, it's your birth control pills!" he exclaimed, brows narrowing with concern. "have you been taking them?" it was only when you've finished up your chore did you turn to your boyfriend, looking at your pills, and then at his face. "those are my contraceptives, yes . . and no, why?" the lack of worry in your voice calms carlos a bit, blinking at your nonchalance. "but, babe—," "wait, i haven't told you yet?" your laughter mixes with your words. "told me what?"

you took it upon yourself to close the remaining distance between the both of you, cradling his face with your warm hands. "carlos,"—you reached over for your medication and put them aside. "i've stopped taking birth control, baby. since like, two weeks ago. i thought i told you, but i must've forgotten . . . " 

there's so many thoughts running in his head. thinkin' how gorgeous you'd be during your wedding day. when you're finally pregnant and bearing his child. how he'd be calling you his wife and not his girlfriend anymore. how he'd be a husband to you, and a father . . 

"—earth to carlos. hellooo?" 

"what?"

he blinked, realizing you were waving a hand in front of his face. "you said something about wanting to start a family some day . . it doesn't have to be now, but if it happens, then . . " you shrugged. 

what do you mean it doesn't have to be now?

it has to be now. 

⟡

he has to plunge his cock balls deep in you now. even if his previous creampies were already leaking out from your pretty hole. he needed to breed you over and over again now. he reveled in the sight of you; with your hair sticking to your skin from how much you were sweating, how your tits bounced with every thrust forward with his hips, how your lips were hanging agape from pure bliss . . you are so, so pretty in his eyes. prettier when you're thoroughly fucked and bred.

carlos could only groan, feeling your cunt twitch around his cock. he kept watching you writhe, kept watching you squirm beneath him because he just fucked you so good—but the squelch reverberating from beneath you catches his attention. hazel eyes begin to trail down your body, down to your pretty cunt where you were the messiest. slick smeared to wherever it could, and your poor clit was puffy from how many times he's ran a thumb over it . . .  but that didn't seem to stop him from doing so for the nth time. just to see your legs quiver, to see your eyes roll back to the pits of your skull.

"carlooos—♡," you whined, hips bucking against the sensation. "'m here, mama. jus' let it out," he mumbled in his pussydrunk stupor. seeing how you couldn't even mutter his name properly did things to carlos—fueling his lust was one of them; his grip on the back of your knees become tighter—and the slamming of his hips was more brutal, trying to fuck his cum back in you like he wasn't already doing that for the past hour. 

"ah! ahn—you're so rough!" you whimpered, and carlos only lets out a dry chuckle. "h-haah . . i-i have to be. or else you—," his words are abruptly interrupted by a loud groan as he forces his cock as deep as he could, just for emphasis. "you . . won't be knocked up," he whined, balls twitching as it ached to cum into your womb again. "c'mon, mama. get pregnant. fuuuuck, jesus christ—," 

he could feel himself drooling as he ruts into you desperately. "c'mere, cariño," you went from having your knees pressed to your chest to being completely folded in half. his face is buried in your neck, and his hands—no—his arms have moved to cradle your head, his chest taking over for him as your legs rest nicely on his shoulders. his tongue is all over your flesh, lazily lapping up your neck and sweat. the new position has him fucking deeper—literally. feels like his tip was gonna force itself up in your poor cervix. it was suffocating, but. but you craved it. you yearned for it. 

you needed it.

his hips were clearly hurting and fatigued, because every brutal slam down into you would result to him grunting and whining. his tongue's cold against your neck, spanish words whispered against it while he busied himself pounding away at your pretty, creamy pussy. nothing was stopping him from breeding you, from stuffing you full, not even the pain that pooled both in his hips and your thighs.  

"your pussy’s so goooood, fuck . . love you, i love you. dios .  . dios mio, no puedo dejar de follarte. quiero d , dejarte embarazada, mi amor." you couldn't understand his mindless spanish babbling—not with the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass echoing in the room. "wh , what . . ?" "shh, baby." —it's followed by more spanish muttering that you can't follow. not that there was anythin' going on in that pretty head of yours. 

[ god . .  oh my god . . i can't stop fucking you. i want to get you pregnant, my love. ]

there was nothing going on in his head, either. just the thoughts of you knocked up—everyone would know you belonged to him, that he fucked you, that you made him a father—it only fueled the never ending lust that he had no strength to resist. "oh my fucking god, baby, fuuuck!" his face scrunches up as he speeds up, and you didn't even know that was fucking possible. your eyes widened, the knot in your stomach tightening and tightening 'til it snapped; your orgasm spraying all over yourself and him as you screamed. "so messy, h-haah, f, fuck!" "carlos, m, my cunt—!" you could no longer find the words to say to him, stars filling your vision. you swore you were going to pass out. 

your cunt was sensitive, obviously, but carlos was beyond overstimulated—it hurts—his cock hurts after cumming and cumming and cumming in you, but the way your creamy walls hugged his cock was enough compensation. he won't stop. can't bring himself to stop. because everytime his cock slid back into you, your pathetic cunt only squirts in small fountains, dragging out your orgasm and only allowing him to slide in and out of you easily.  "gonna cum. 'm cumming," his whines grew sharper, getting higher and higher as his orgasm neared. his hold around your head tightened, and you could only bite and lick at the skin of his chest as his frame practically eclipsed over your frame.

"Y/N—god. 'm cumming. gonna breed you. gonna—g, gonna get you pregnant! dios mio, Tu coño se siente genial—," stuffing your fucking cunt to the fullest, he cried out your name as he came; this was the hardest he's cummed, experiencing heaven as he sloppily rode out his orgasm with shallow, sloppy thrusts. he greedily wanted more, but god, he's sure he can't cum anymore after this. he's not even sure if he can lift his hips to pull out his veiny, girthy cock out of your dripping pussy. 

you're barely conscious—so close to passing out when you feel a hand on your cheek, fingers worriedly tapping you awake. "baby?" his voice echoed in your ears, and you opened your heavy lids, vision adjusting to the sight of him. "come back to me," he whispered, peppering your face with sweet kisses. "carlos." you chuckled weakly. you only just realized that you did pass out, because you don't remember carlos putting down your legs or covering you both with your comforter. "i got worried." carlos lays beside you, pulling you beside him. "slept good?" he teases, and you only grumbled. you feel his stubble graze your brow as he placed a kiss on your forehead. "did i get too carried away?" "you don't say," you both chuckled. "'m sleepy," you mutter, wrapping an arm around him. and the only response you got from him? a light snore. you can't help but laugh to yourself. 

end.

A/N: such a wild prompt TT but i hope you enjoyed! thank you to my beta reader, @lafox-chan for proofreading and helping me!

and here's a blooper while we were working on it!

[elodieunderglass]

On the topic of the monarchist animals I'm just really curious. What makes the winnie pooh real animals bourgeois? It's not like they own much more than the others. Do they just have bourgeois energy?

(In reference to my addition on this post; https://www.tumblr.com/elodieunderglass/748488762087047168/hold-on-lets-do-this-properly-paddington)

In the post I state that none of the stuffed/toy animals in the Winnie the Pooh series are monarchists, but that the real animals are bourgeoisie. Obviously this is tongue in cheek, but it’s still politically interesting to me because nobody ever reads Winnie the Pooh as an actual book. They just draw depressed Disney Eeyore and think they’ve done something.

Owl and Rabbit are real wild animals that live in the Hundred Acre Wood. The other characters in the story are Christopher Robin’s stuffed animals.

The “real” animals (reasonably) consider themselves to be separate from the stuffed ones, but where it becomes unreasonable is how they assume superiority and how they use this to exert authority.

(A charming response about how the stuffed animals view this: Piglet points out that Rabbit is both clever and Has Brain, and Pooh replies that this is why Rabbit “doesn’t understand anything.”)

Owl is characterised by being a bit of a fraud. The stuffed animals respect him for his presumed education and literacy, but even a preschooler understands that Owl can’t actually read. he actively deceives the other characters in order to maintain a higher social status over them. (Actually, Rabbit’s the most literate character in the Wood.) Owl gains relatively little advantage from this status, apart from his belief that he is superior and the pleasure in everyone deferring to him. A notable theme throughout the written series involves characters approaching Owl for advice, based on his self-made reputation of being wise and thoughtful, and him giving explicitly bad advice, rather than admit that he has no idea how to help. Also, they forcibly give him someone else’s house, in such a way that the actual possessor of the house (Piglet) feels he can’t speak up. Pooh immediately offers to Piglet that he move in with him, which even as a kid felt like an incredibly unsatisfactory solution to having the shyest character’s actual house given away to the character who casually lies about everything just to feel superior.

Rabbit is a grown-ass adult real wild animal. He is the social leader of a massively large family and an extended group of hangers-on (he has fifteen or seventeen close relatives, and the extended Friends-and-Relations are a sort of army); he is the only actually literate person in the narrative, so it is understandable that he feels this (although he also believes Owl can read.) literacy and Brain are considered very important in the Wood.

Rabbit believes in his own superiority and believes himself to serve as a sort of cadet to Christopher Robin. In the series Christopher Robin is the ultimate judge, and a kindly ruler; Rabbit positions himself constantly at Christopher Robin’s right hand and wants to be his enforcer. Christopher Robin, who is five and a fairly distracted God, does not really enforce anything. This does not stop Rabbit from trying to organise the entire Wood. It’s frequently mentioned that Rabbit wants to feel important, he wants to be the Boss. A beautiful, beautiful commentary on his character is when he wakes up feeling “important, as if everything depending on him… it was a Captainish sort of day, when everybody said “Yes Rabbit” and “No Rabbit” and waited until he had told them.” Fantastic!

However, we can see where this leads him. In the first book Rabbit is shown being hostile and actively anti-foreign in his approach to other people. When kanga and roo arrive in the forest - sanctioned by Christopher Robin who has received new toys - Rabbit instantly says they have to get rid of them. Like there is NO friendship in Rabbit’s heart here. There is no “god has placed a new friend in the wood so we have to get on with it.”

Rabbit’s anti-immigration stances are funny, and in-character, and shown by the narrative to be wrong and unfair. But they’re pretty unleashed.

His plan is to kidnap the baby and hold it hostage until the mother agrees to “leave the forest forever and never return.”

This is not a normal response to a new character. It is in fact fucking unhinged. Coming from the most normal-adult real animal in the story, it comes out of nowhere. “We have to eliminate them instantly. Take the baby hostage, blackmail the parent and deport them” Rabbit these are war crimes.

Anyway it’s all very heartwarming as Rabbit learns that he likes Baby Roo. (Their relationship grows warmer as Baby Roo says “yes rabbit” and “no rabbit” better than anyone else.) We never really learn why Rabbit is so violently anti-immigration that he instantly jumps to doing crimes, but it’s possible that he doesn’t like the threat to the status quo. Baby Roo, by deferring politely, thus turns out to be a valuable social inferior for Rabbit’s power base.

But in the next book we also get another new character introduction: Tigger. rabbit does not like tigger. In fact, he stops visiting Roo because Tigger lives with them. Rabbit, frustrated by Tigger’s bounciness, also decides to deliberately trick and bully Tigger in order to make him “small and sorry.” The fact that this comically backfires on Rabbit is part of the Pooh-lore storytelling style, of course, but it’s still something obvious even to the preschool audience - that isn’t how you treat your friends.

In conclusion, due to their hoarding of (social) capital and behaviors that prop up an unjustly unequal social system, I think the real animals in Winnie the Pooh are a bit bougie.

[esperderek]

I have to have a chuckle at the Screenrant article posted recently about the Galactic Starcruiser, which totally wasn't about Jenny Nicholson's video honest.

In part, because early in Nicholson's video, she talks about how unnatural it is to have your influencers speak in adcopy and copyright rather than the more colloquial nicknames, and how it makes the people speaking about the product seem very insincere and, well, paid off. Because normal humans don't speak that way, but advertising does.

What's the first two lines in this article?

"As a life-long fan of Star Wars, there was nothing quite as exciting as finding out that I would be working on the immersive Star Wars: Galactic Starcruiser experience. Located at the Walt Disney World Resort, the Galactic Starcruiser opened on March 1, 2022, and welcomed passengers to board a two-day, two-night cruise through the stars, during which they could live out their own Star Wars adventure."

No one talks like this naturally. No one writes like this naturally.

This is supposed to be your passioned defense of the place you worked at, the people you worked with, and the memories you made along the way. C'mon! Why don't you open with a story, perhaps an anecdote about the best moment you had working there, or the devastation of the day you lost your dream job. We need to feel your humanity! But there's nothing of that here, to the point where you can just hear the TM behind Galactic Starcruiser.

The first half of this article continues in this vein, reading like a press release Disney marketing put out, just with past tense rather than present or future tense:

"Essentially, the Starcruiser experience was a 48-hour movie that passengers were actually a part of. It was all facilitated through the "datapad," which was accessed through the Play Disney Parks app."

"To facilitate the overarching immersive experience and storytelling, the Starcruiser built a jam-packed itinerary for each and every guest that would consist of a variety of important activities: the captain's toast at muster, a bridge training exercise, lightsaber training, and more. These types of events were essential to understanding what was happening, as they would give passengers the chance to interact with characters and build their story. This is why the Starcruiser could never be just a hotel; every part of it was designed for enthusiastic interaction."

Like, c'mon. I used to work in television. I've seen and used adcopy in my former job, and this is some serious adcopy. It honestly wouldn't shock me if the author dredged up some old adcopy they had lying around about the topic and just transferred it over, changing the tense. You're not here to sell us this product, because there is no product to sell. It's gone, it's been gone for a year, you don't have to sell us on IT. Speak about your experiences.

The next part is yet another topic that Jenny Nicholson pointed out, the bad faith excuses that influencers and advertisers made for the extreme price point:

"What many people don't know, however, is that the price included much more than just a room. The passengers' food, park tickets, recreation activities on board, non-alcoholic drinks, and more were all included - with merchandise being one of the few additional costs on board."

Which is absolute bad faith reasoning, especially when there are plenty of other vacation options that are ALSO all-inclusive, but are MUCH cheaper and offer MORE amenities than the Galactic Starcruiser did! Including Disney Cruises, owned by the same company! Seriously, you can go on a halfway decent sounding cruise or all-inclusive resort somewhere warm for, like, a week or two and spend far less than GSC cost.

Then the last part is essentially: "All the workers liked working there and the bad reviews afterwards make the workers who worked on it feel sad. :("

Which, like, companies have been hiding behind that reasoning for ages. Curiously, the author never offers....any reasons or stories. WHY did working on it impact you so much? What set it apart, what were the people like, what did you like about working there, why are you so passionate about it even a year later? There's nothing, just a generic sort of "We worked hard." and "We're sad it's gone." Why? How? What happened? The video you're obviously writing this in response to is filled with personal anecdotes and stories, it's the backbone of the video! Again, you need to give us something to show your humanity!

Especially when you consider that Nicholson repeatedly points out that the only highlight about her experience, the only thing that kept the damn thing going was the workers.

She had nothing but praise for them, and nothing but contempt for the higher ups who wasted and abused that enthusiasm, to the point where one of her last points was "Hey, Disney is basically exploiting labor."

Much like Jenny, I'm also not condemning anyone who had a good time working there. Good! If you were having a good time at work, that's great. If you have good memories about the people, awesome. But I'll note two things:

a) That doesn't meant you weren't being exploited, and

b) That doesn't mean you have to be a useful idiot for the corporation you worked for afterwards.

I'm not conspiracy brained enough to go "Oh, Disney TOTALLY forced this article into being.", because a cursory examination of the author's prior works and such suggests a lifelong passion for Star Wars, she did work at the hotel, and she's a Star Wars Editor (whatever THAT means in this day and age) for Screen Rant. Apparently one of the heads of Screen Rant says that Disney had no hand in it either.

Though, I can see why people would think that way. It READS like a press release, not something a normal human being would write about an experience they feel passionate about.

[fumiscripts]

✦ DEDICATED TO YOU

✦ one shot ,, rin itoshi x gn!reader

content:: you're a famous idol. and you're dating a professional player. of course you'll be making headlines when your relationship was made public.

for @yui2aku ,, fluff ,, 822 words

additional:: swearing, they're both whipped for eachother, might be ooc

Itoshi Rin is a rising star in the football industry. And you were in the peak of your idol career.

Obviously, the media would freak if they find out that the two of you were dating.

So you kept the relationship a secret, doing your best to not give out any hints. From making sure not to mention each other too much in interviews, to carefully crafting social media posts to ensure that fans won't be able to tell that you were going to a place together. Both of you and your management carefully concealed it from the public view.

But, of course, not everything goes to plan.

PROFESSIONAL ATHLETE ITOSHI RIN AND SOLO IDOL [L/N] [NAME] SEEN HOLDING HANDS AT HANEDA AIRPORT.

This was the headline of one of the many, many articles that flooded all across the internet. Your heart stopped, then slammed back at full force. You stood up straighter, brows furrowing together. The first time you opened your phone for the day, and you find posts about this everywhere.

Oh fuck. You fucked up, didn't you?

“Shit. What the hell,” you curse under your breath, reading more into the article.

Meanwhile, Rin looks up from your lap, opening an eye, disturbed from resting on your thighs when you suddenly stopped running your hands through his black locks. Your eyes flicked towards his,and he gave you a look, as if to ask what suddenly bothered you to halt playing with his hair.

You blink at him, before sheepishly turning your phone around, showing him what's been blowing up all over the media. “So… maybe we weren't discreet enough with the clothes I wore to greet you.”

His face instantly dropped, turning into something more serious as his teal eyes skimmed through the overview of the post. Rin sighed, grumbling something under his breath before burying his face onto your stomach. “...I told you to just stay at home and wait for me,” he murmured after a while, draping his arms around your waist.

“C’mon… you know I had to greet you right away. It was after a big overseas game I couldn't come to— it was the same time I had a concert,” you scoffed, reasoning with him. “The least I could do was pick you up at the airport.”

Rin didn't look up. He was touched by your little gesture to try and make up for not attending a vital match, so he didn't use that argument further. “Tch. Should've at least covered up more of your features,” he lightheartedly remarked. Though he really liked the uniqueness you had with the way you dressed up, so he can't hate on that. “Well, what do we do now?” he asked, moving the topic along from the problem to finding a solution.

You stared down your phone, anxiousness coming back to loom over you. “I should contact my manager,” you remark, watching as he finally lets go of you and sits up properly. “We could schedule a meeting with our PR teams?”

He nodded. “Right. So go do that,” he replied, though he already had a vague idea what they might propose for you two to do. It was a guess.

That guess was right.

The day after those rumors about the two of you having a secret blew up, you hard launched your relationship to the public.

They decided that coming out clean about this would be the most logical way to proceed— way better than the media speculating that the two of you were just a fling and start tarnishing both of you’s reputation. A proper relationship sounded way better than a one-night stand to the public.

After confirming on each official account, the masses began to be a little more welcoming to it. Hell, the ship tag between you and Rin seemed to blow up with positive posts, even. So that fix was successful.

Once the news calmed down through weeks, everything was back to normal. Well, as normal as it could be with being an idol with a soccer player for a boyfriend. Majority of fans seemed to love the two of you, often making fan media dedicated to your relationship. And in all honesty, it was cute. Plus, you had more material to tease Rin with.

Now, you couldn't help it. You personally asked for your next album to be something special, convincing management it's for the sake of the publication of your relationship. Though, it was dedication for someone special.

An album dedicated to him.

Rin knew those songs were dedicated to him. If those vibrant eyes of yours while you performed on stage— looking straight at him who sat by the vip seats— said anything, it was all about how much you loved him.

Oh, and with the way he looked at you with pure adoration, it was obvious he loved you, too.

Rin was utterly, hopelessly dedicated to you.

(a/n):: Grrrhsjua not my proudest work since I barely write nonchalant asf characters

taglist:: @shrii-kk, @tired-xyra-urstruly, @fishii28, @yui2aku

@lakeside-paradise

© fumiscripts 2024. don't steal, repost, translate or modify my works without my permission.

[patchwork-artists]

Hey you! Have you seen this post by @pigswithwings? Do you like it? Do you like animation? Well do I have the news for you! With the author's permission and consultance, I am running a 5 minute animation short film on it, called "Angel back at home"!

Now, here's the most exciting news: We are looking for storyboarders, background designers, and 3 voice actors of all genders! Even better, you don't need to be a professional on any of those things whatsoever, only have some knowledge on them (and be of minimum age 16) to try and apply for the role!

Unfortunately, it is not paid, as for legal reasons we can not make profit out of it. Why should you join then, you ask? In this project we guarantee three things:

Portifolio building: Everything you will be producing, you can be using to add to your personal art portifolio, if this is a career you'd like to follow!

Resume: The short-film will be hosted on several film festivals, so you'll be able to put a big list of festivals your work was featured in, if you'd like to follow any art career. If not, the entire experience can be written in several bullet points on a resume ("experience with working in group", "experience of working within a deadline", etc) for any general job.

Advice and art growth: Every art that gets made on this project will be seen by me, the producer, and will be given advice for improvement. This is especially good if you've been on an art block, is self-taught, or overall would like a different perspective on your art. Don't worry, I'm not harsh!

Additional points is that it allows me to know new artists and new talents! From the last project I had run in this format, I had taken notice of 5 to 6 different artists that I hadn't known were so talented for their specific skills, which made me keep their names for the next project I'd produce. I am someone who dreams of opening an animation studio for new underrated talents and non-professionals that are studying to be professionals, so i'm looking forward to finding the artists on this project that will catch my eye and I'll bring over to the next project.

The timing is flexible since it is a volunteer ran project, if I can't pay I can't demand work hours of a job, so the deadline won't be too tight. For 5 minutes of film, the boards, voice acting, and single music will all in total take about 3 months, with the deadline starting in ferbuary and ending in the end of April. The following months will be given towards animation, sound editing and mixing, and video editing.

Requirements for storyboarders: Know how to draw, understand rule of thirds, enjoy drawing expressiveness through body language. You can be using any drawing device, whether that's computer, cellphone, or traditional, as long as you use the storyboard template in question and stay faithful to references.

Application link for storyboarders

Requirement for voice actors: have a somewhat good microphone(doesn't need to be professional and expensive, just good enough so we don't want to give the audio editors too much work), have interest in acting (preferably have had at least one theather class).

Application link for V/A

Lines for V/A

Requirement for background designer: Know how to draw or how to put together a 3d model of free assests, you don't need to be super experienced and specialized with drawing backgrounds but it'll be good to have a basic idea of it. You will be given specific references for the backgrounds, and you won't draw every single background, it'll be split work

Application link for background designer

Applications end by ferbuary 8th, but may be pushed forward if the applications are low. Everyone that passed will be noticed two days after.

Best of luck to everyone!