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#You're a pathetic trash raccoon
pseudowho · 3 months
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"Why the fuck...does this vacuum cleaner smell like cheese?"
Kento was yet to arrive home, and you saw this as only a blessing for him. Staring down the barrel of the hoover, the house finally hushed from the sounds of rowdy children, you wore your finest holey tank top, and pyjama shorts which covered asscheek, pussy and belly (but only ever two at a time, at any given time).
Your antiperspirant didn't have the same stamina as you. You swore as you trod barefoot on Lego, staggering and cussing like a mad old witch.
Bra-less, and without the time to scout the laundry pile for underwear, you hoovered crumbs and war-detritus like a skrunkly raccoon; hungry, cross, and in need of a shower. Your mind was lost, running between the alleyways of your chore-list, when the door clicked open, and closed.
You vacuumed, and vacuumed, not even looking up as you heard the rhythmic tack, tack, tack of his brown Oxfords approaching.
"There she is."
As if you were the Venus de Milo.
You grunted, lifting the rug and picking up an abandoned, squashed peach with an ugh! and cursed your sleeping offspring. You stood up with a huff, blowing sweaty hairs off your face, your breasts swinging independently of you.
"How's my darling wife?"
Pristine as ever, crisp and ironed and with the faintest tang of sweat and cologne, you wondered if Kento would ever arrive home looking like he'd been intimately acquainted with a trash can. The day had not yet come. Whiskey-deep eyes drank you in, parched.
Your heart ached with how handsome he looked, and how pathetically mismatched you were against him.
"Kento. You're home."
"Mmmm."
Either in confirmation, or having seen something delicious; you weren't sure. You suspected the latter. You scoffed as his hands reached out to slip round your raggedy waist, and you scoffed, and he shushed you, and you berated him, and he mumbled sweet nothings into your neck until you were finally folded into him, his missing ingredient.
And how he looked at you, as if you'd hung the stars and orchestrated the seasons.
You breathed him in, lax against the brick-wall solidity of him. You could have cried.
You still had sloppy peach remnants in your hand as Kento kissed you, soft and mellow and longing. You huffed against his lips.
"Kento, I am a fucking mess--"
"You're lovely--"
"--I absolutely am not--"
"--ravishing--"
"--you're ridiculous--"
"--gorgeous--"
"You're an idiot."
"I've missed you."
"God, I've missed you too. So much. You don't even know."
"I'm sure I do."
You sighed, nuzzling your face into the hard planes of Kento's collarbones, growling away a day of frustration. His chuckles rumbled up, tickling your nose. You rested your cheek against Kento's chest, your weariness bone-deep, having had no agency over your body or your time since dawn.
You surveyed the carnage together in silence; toys strewn as if the bodies of soldiers, abandoned laundry with stains of suspect aetiology, congealed meals, lovingly prepared and never eaten. You felt the weight of the day threaten to overwhelm you, feeling the panic and anxiety climbing, tidal waves on your waterline--
"Sit down. I'll make you a cup of tea."
The floodgates almost opened. "I can't do that-- you've had a long day-- so much to do--"
"And, I'll do it."
"No you won't, I--"
"Sit down. And I'll make you a cup of tea."
A single, slow kiss to your sweaty forehead. You sniffled, no strength left for another battle. You offered paltry smiling complaints as Kento nuzzled your hair, gripping you closer, growling into your neck as you squeaked and laughed.
You felt the familiar heavy press and twitch of his cock against you, and he groaned as you squirmed in his grasp, giggling. You caught his eye, as he twinkled down at you, pressing one slow kiss to your lips, possessive and full of promise.
"...I'm not apologising for anything. You look incredible."
"Ridiculous man, Nanami Kento."
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sashaforthewin · 2 years
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Stranger Things, Steddie, Rated M for sexual talk.
This is really just a silly way to torture Eddie who probably has the poor kid tendency to collect crap and never throw anything away.
--
As the handcuffs clicked into place around his wrists, Eddie settled back and closed his eyes. Steve hadn't blindfolded him, but he wanted to relish in the anticipation for as long as he could. This was a very rare treat so he was going to milk it for all it was worth. Steve was really taking his time, it had been at least five minutes and Steve hadn't even touched him yet. Eddie was loving the suspense.
After what felt like ten minutes, he heard a snap of rubber from near the foot of the bed and it made him squirm to know he was entirely at Steve's mercy. He could do whatever he wanted right now and Eddie was powerless and thrilled. 
That is, until he heard a second rubber snap. 
He opened his eyes and glanced down to where Steve was standing.
"Motherfucker! No! Absolutely not, no! Sarcophagus, sarcophagus!"
"You can't safeword out of this, Eddie. It's for your own good."
Steve was standing at the foot of the bed, fully dressed, wearing a pair of rubber kitchen gloves and holding a box of trash bags. 
"Stevie, baby, don't do this!" Eddie pleaded.
"I have to. I try throwing things away and you dig them out of the trash. I'm gonna start with the bathroom, okay? I know this is stressful for you but it's for your own good," Steve explained gently as he went into their en suite bathroom, leaving the door wide open so Eddie could still see him. 
"Hey, what are you doing? No, no, no, don't pour out perfectly good shampoo!"
Steve didn't even look up, just kept pouring Eddie's shampoo down the drain with the tap running as he replied, "this shampoo gives you dandruff and it's really cheap and harsh. This is why your hair is all frizzy and tangled. I got us nice shampoo and conditioner, so use it!"
"But why would I use pricey stuff when the dollar store kind is fine? Don't just pour it down the drain!"
Steve just shook his head and didn't respond. Once the bottle was empty, he threw it into the trash bag he had opened. Next, he threw a disposable razor caked in soap scum and stubble, followed by a bar of cheap soap.
"Hey, not my soap! Throw away your own soap, leave mine alone!"
"Eddie, I'm pretty sure you're allergic to this soap, you are itchy when you use it and it gives you rashes in your inner elbows."
"You don't know that, I'm just an itchy person, I'm always itchy, always have been!" Eddie reasoned.
"Except when I wash you using the oatmeal soap that I bought both of us to use. You've always itched because you buy cheap shitty soap. I'm trying to help you feel better."
"Fuck you, Harrington!"
Steve continued to clean out their bathroom. Eddie was particularly insulting when Steve got rid of his threadbare towel that was about the texture of a brillo pad, but Steve kept going, ignoring the verbal assault and knowing Eddie didn't mean it. 
Eddie fought against his restraints when Steve moved back into their bedroom and opened up the top drawer of their dresser. 
"Stevie-bear, please!" Eddie weedled, trying to sound babyish and pathetic. Steve knew what he was doing but it didn't make his pleas any less heart-wrenching.
"I know, baby. I'm sorry, but I have to do this."
"Untie me and I'll do it, I swear!"
"You won't. I have asked you to, I've tried to do it with you here loose, I've tried to do it while you were out. Every single time you go root through the trash like a raccoon. You are the most stubborn idiot and I love you very much, but we have money now and you need to stop saving everything you think might be useful."
The underwear was methodically weeded. Anything with holes or stains or a lack of elasticity was trashed. Same for the socks. 
"Oh, I see how it is, you're only leaving me the things you bought me! You think you're so great because you have money, you think your stuff is better than mine?"
"Yeah, it is better, but only because the ones I bought aren't left over from middle school, dude. Seriously, Eddie, this drawer is a biohazard. Pretty sure some of your socks are old enough to vote."
"That's only because they were Wayne's."
"He'll forgive me if we don't give them back. I'm gonna leave your t-shirts alone but I've bought you all new socks and underwear and I'm personally driving this bag out to the dump tonight before you can dig this crap back out."
Their underwear and socks drawer was significantly emptier after Steve got done, but since they did laundry every other weekend, they still had plenty. Gone were the days of Eddie's massive dirty clothes pile and his need for a month's worth of undies. 
"No no no, not the closet! I hate you so much!"
"No you don't."
"I really do. I hate you."
"Then why have you had a massive erection this whole time?" Steve asked, looking over at Eddie, fondly bemused.
"I can't help if my body finds you outwitting me hot. Also, how am I supposed to not have an erection when you tie me up? You never do this!"
"Yeah, because you know I don't like it," Steve pointed out. 
"I know but it's unfair that you don't want to be tied up but you also don't want to tie me up! You should only dislike one of those! I know, I know, I'm just thinking with my horny brain right now, you know I love you and don't want to do anything you don't want to do. I just always feel so much more creative and inspired after you tie me up, you are my muse, baby."
"Eddie. Baby, sweetness, angelface, assbrain. You don't feel like that because of bondage sex, you feel good after because I clean while you're tied up. It's not my fault your horny brain keeps falling for the same trick. This is the third time, babe, but this time it's our shared apartment and I refuse to just sit around and watch you wallow in filth with a creative block when all you need is a clean environment. Also, I live here, too, and I don't want to live with a closet full of boxes of junk and barely any room for my actual clothes! I know you hate me right now but I promise you this is for your own good."
Eddie sighed, knowing Steve was right, but he promptly forgot Steve was right the second Eddie saw him removing the piles of boxes from the closet. 
"Leave those alone, those are my project boxes!"
"Eddie, you have not touched these boxes since we moved in two years ago! You don't even know what is in them, you don't need it, baby."
"Those are all works in progress!"
"Okay, what's in this one? If you know what is in the box you can keep it." Steve held up a light blue shoe box.
"Uh… broken guitar strings and scrap metal?" Eddie guessed, trying to sound confident. 
"Nope it's… is this just leaves? Eddie, why do you have a box full of leaves?" Steve asked, staring down into the box.
Eddie shifted in his restraints a bit, trying to look like the type of guy you'd want to free because he was so well-behaved. 
"I was maybe gonna use them as stamps or something, I hadn't decided. They were really pretty fall leaves."
"Well, now they're just dead, so…" He dumped the box into the trash bag.
"At least save the box!"
Steve looked at Eddie, exasperated. "Why?"
"It's a good box," Eddie shrugged.
"Okay, listen, this closet is full of boxes and I don't like seeing you in distress, it's really upsetting, so how about I give you a blowjob and you can have a nice post-orgasm nap while I clear the rest of this and then you'll wake up not even knowing what's missing? I'm not going to throw out anything important."
Eddie's erection, which hadn't flagged through all of the cleaning, gave a twitch of excitement, but Eddie's pride couldn't just give in without a fight.
"As if I'll even be able to sleep!"
"Eddie. Baby. I love you so much, you's such a wonderful and giving lover, but there is a reason we have the rule that I come first."
"That's because you're greedy."
"No, babe, that's because if I don't come before you I have to do it myself because you'll already be asleep. Trust me, if I blow you right now you'll be out like a light and you'll wake up to a nice clean home."
"You didn't blow me last time!"
"Because last time was just the bathroom at the trailer. You were upset but you weren't distressed like you are now. Not my fault you've fallen for this trick three times now. You know I don't like bondage."
"Ah, but hope springs eternal."
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ryo-maybe · 2 years
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Ho postato 40.162 volte nel 2022
Sono 9.327 post in più del 2021!
1.698 post creati (4%)
38.464 post rebloggati (96%)
Blog che ho rebloggato di più:
@coolyo294
@yukariyakumofficial
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Ho taggato 2.779 dei miei post nel 2022
#rinnequest - 160 post
#ryo of the rebellion - 42 post
#holy shit - 27 post
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#yukariyakumofficial - 11 post
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Longest Tag: 140 characters
#which is actually an inflatable animal that i want to see poked until all the empty air has gone out and left behind a delicious nugget of h
I miei post migliori nel 2022:
#5
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1.444 note - Postate 19 agosto 2022
#4
I love Ryouichi Ikegami’s style a whole damn lot because you could pick any panel of his and it’d make for a perfect reaction picture because he draws characters like this:
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1.554 note - Postate 25 ottobre 2022
#3
I think it's neat when characters, regardless of gender, age or anything else, are pathetic but less in a "spineless harem isekai self-insert" and more in a "couple (literal or metaphorical) years away from a middle age crisis, dark circles around the eyes that contribute to making them look like a raccoon too tired to sift through the trash, which they can't even afford anyway" kind of way, you feel me
1.606 note - Postate 5 giugno 2022
#2
can u explain why AI art is bad without fearmongering, moralizing or bootlicking lol
I'm going to answer in good faith, even though the tone you're using sounds like you're harboring anything but. The issue with AI art isn't specifically inherent to the tools used to produce it, because, ultimately, a tool is merely that: something devoid of will which, in the hands of a human, can produce a specific outcome. It's the human element that taints what we could otherwise enjoy for the unquestioningly fascinating topic that is AI art and, by extension, AI software as a whole.
Now, the problem isn't people, period, but the kind of people that are responsible for giving AI the bad rep it's been getting, along with the intent that goes into both the development of AI tools and the things produced by dint of said tools. I'm talking about the tech bros happily rubbing their hands, waiting to provide business moguls with a brand new means to commodify and mass-produce what artists stake their entire livelihoods upon, because when you have enough zeroes lined up in your bank account, your eyes are utterly blinded to the soul and personality that human beings put into their handiwork, and which a machine won't ever be able to reproduce no matter how much stolen art you feed it. Oh yeah, by the way, that's how AI art tools have been making the rounds: by chewing on thousands upon thousands of stolen pictures made by actual people so that they may learn how to ape someone's style and spit out absolutely soulless derivatives, while the original authors don't see a lick of recognition or monetary retribution for any of it. Do I need to tell you why stealing and parading someone else's art as your own is a terrible, vile thing to do?
But sure, you did ask me to refrain from "fearmongering, moralizing or bootlicking", which I guess I've already done. So since you'd rather I skipped straight to the point in a concise manner, lemme offer some quick examples of why the culture surrounding AI art has already developed into one of the most abysmally disappointing displays of how greed and an utter lack of human decency can ruin something objectively brimming with possibilities:
Less than a week after the sudden death of Korean artist Kim Jung-gi, someone trained an AI model to mimic his artstyle, having the audacity of asking for credits if anyone wished to use it. I sincerely hope I don't have to explain to you why this is a ghoulish example of the kind of tone-deafness sported by tech bros who buy wholesale into the AI art craze.
A piece of AI art was submitted to an art contest and won. The "artist"'s work amounted to little more than picking a series of prompts and letting the machine do the work. It's as much art as googling a smattering of terms and making a collage of pictures taken from Pinterest (and even then, you would have put more work into it than this person did). That they won at all says a whole damn lot about how abysmal the respect given to artists - real artists - nowadays is.
There are a multitude of people out there already selling prints of AI-generated art. I could link some of them here, but honestly, type "ai art prints" on a search engine and you'll get inundated by them. I've seen and personally know artists who have had to undersell their works because commissions were the only thin, frayed string they could hang on in hopes of making it through the week without fucking starving themselves, but here we are: any random asshole can now yell "MASSIVE BREASTS, THIN WAIST, COCKTAIL DRESS, HUGE BADONGAS" at a computer, let it mash together a trillion of other people's hard work, and print it for easy bucks that the actual authors of the basic ingredients of their insipid soup will never, ever see a dime of.
It really bothers me that you mentioned "no bootlicking". Whose fucking boots is this side of the debate supposedly tasting? That of the artists who post every day about how angry, sad and terrified they are by the prospects of what the development of AI art will entail for their livelihood and passion? What kind of gall did your mother birth you with that you have the spiteful spunk to type that word, when you've got shit like an artist who had their sketch stolen while they were drawing it on stream, then fed to an AI and posted by someone passing it off as their own art? How does that not ignite your indignation? "Bootlicking". Like anyone's tongues have been tasting leather but those of the same tech bro chodes who kept trying oh so hard to convince us NFTs were the future while ruining the environment to make the absolute stupidest point ever made in the history of humanity.
7.769 note - Postate 17 ottobre 2022
Il mio post numero 1 del 2022
Since Tumblr wants to be a bitch, here’s a timestamped link to the jugglers doing working their magic in front of the Pope while Megalovania plays in the background. No this wasn’t edited. It’s a livestream
14.532 note - Postate 5 gennaio 2022
Guarda ora l'Analisi del tuo anno 2022 di Tumblr →
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thepandalion · 9 months
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I love how much pandas accidentally became part of my personality
Like. Originally "midnight panda" was about raccoons, because it was back when using "trash" on yourself was a real word to use when you're being pathetic about something and I wasn't at a point in time where I could refer to myself as a trash panda. So I was looking for a way around and decided "they're like pandas, but dark, so midnight"
I can't even stay up until midnight, by the way. Sleep disorder stuff, I go to sleep at 11 at the latest.
Point is, I started getting my friends to call me "panda" as a nickname. And then it kinda... stuck around. And I finally came up with "pandalion" (which, fun fact, is actually a pun on dandelions. Which I don't even particularly like-)
And I started looking for things that are panda themed; started with two plushies and a cool hoodie and a pair of slippers... and then my family strated picking up on that.
My mum just showed me the chocolats she got me for school- emergency chocolate to put in my locker, in case I want something sweet and don't have the time to buy something in the cafeteria before my next class. The chocolats have panda themed wrappings.
My mum asked if that counts as cannibalism.
I. Don't think my mum even knows what a furry is.
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Love in a Hopeless World
A/N: Hello, my 🍓Little Strawberries🍓! I’m back with another fic for you! This was one of the options given to me.
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Pairing: Chris Redfield x Male reader
Requested: @evansphnx12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: NSFW, smut, bottom male reader, sir kink, degradation, creampie, size kink, Choking kink, breeding kink, masturbation, and all characters are above the age of 18+
Word Count: 2355
Summary: Its turns out there weren't that many supplies in the old abandoned campus. So, you and Chris have to go deeper into the city to find more but during the little scavenge, Chris began to dirty thoughts...
I hope you enjoy it! Sorry if it’s bad! And sorry for any errors that are found!
If you like what I write, how about check out my masterlist?
Keys:
M/n: Male name.
«••••••••••••••»
[1]
[2] YOU ARE HERE
DISCLAIMER!: I never played or watched any gameplay of the resident evil series. And this doesn’t follow any of the resident evil timelines, it’s on its own.
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MINORS DNI. FEMALE READERS… I’LL ALLOW YOU TO READ MY FICS BUT DO NOT FETISHIZE ANY OF MY STORIES
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Previously...
Then y'all had another round of hot steamy sex. And the others at the base had a hard time sleeping that night.
«••••••••••••••»
Your eyes twitch at the unpleasant light hitting it directly. 'It's morning already?' you moved around only to feel wet sheets. 'What happened last night?'
Then you felt a body move and a muscular arm grab you, pulling you closer. You could feel the warmth, and muscular chest pushed against your back.
'Oh! That's right!' now you remembered why you were all sticky and sleeping against Chris. 'I had sex with my superior! But he felt the same.'
Then you felt Chris move around and waking up. "Hey, baby boy," Chris said with a raspy and deep voice. "Morning." you pressed your lips against his.
"If you continue, we may have to repeat what we did last night, baby," Chris growled as pulled back, gripping your waist. You smirked before getting up.
"Come one, we have to get ready. We have important business," you said. "Ugh, can't we just sleep in and have some... Fun?" Chris complained.
"I know you haven't had sex in 5 years but we need to go get those people. We'll have fun at the end of the day," you said stressing your muscles and popping your back.
The bed creaked meaning he finally got off his ass to get ready. "We need to go get those survivors. And scavenge for more supplies," you said putting your armor on and fixing it up.
After you both got your gear and weapons, you both walked into the main area with all the others.
Everybody looked at you both and immediately looked at way. There was awkwardness in the room. 'They must have heard me last night!' Hell! maybe the whole city heard it is quiet
"Uh,- sir... We have a situation." one of the soldiers said. "shot." Chris said. "Well... it turns out there weren't that many supplies found on the campus. We need more supplies if weren't gonna go get those survivors." the soldier said
You heard listening but your mind began to wonder. You still couldn't let go of the past, you remembered one of your siblings was accepted into MIT. This was 3 months after the Raccoon City Incident.
You would see on the news- Raccoon City survivors being discriminated against by the American people. "Hey, what do I keep saying?" Chris said next to you. His conversation was done.
"Stop thinking about the past, it's long gone," you replied, mimicking his voice. Chris laughed, "Okay, baby. But we need to go get those people."
You nodded but kind of chuckled at the fact that he didn't want to do anything today but now wants to do business.
"Come on, M/n! We have to get going. EVERYONE, protect the base at all cost." Chris commanded. "YES SIR!" they all said at the same time.
You, Chris, and a few others left the confines of the base. Even though it was morning, the sky still had a grey color to it. You open the door to the back seat and closed it.
"We should be there in 20 minutes or less." the driver said starting the engine up. "Alright, let's go." the armored car pulled out before driving down the messy road.
It wasn't long before you reached the waterfront. You could see the skyline perfectly, most buildings were on the verge of collapsing. Others were burnt to where the wall showed the skeleton.
Up ahead, you saw a bridge leading into Cambridge was destroyed. 'Longfellow Bridge.' You have been to Boston before and got to explore everything before the world went hell.
The ride continued for a while. There was nothing or anyone in sight. You could see the freeway ahead but like all other ways leading into Cambridge was destroyed.
"We're closing in on Bunker Hill. They said they are taking refuge by the monument." one of them said.
And wouldn't you know it? In the distance, you could see the tall granite obelisk peaking out. It kind of looked like the one down in D.C. but this one is still standing.
What you meant by "This one is still standing" is because the capital was hit by a nuclear warhead, along with other cities across the US.
The President and other government officials were evacuated and the countries important documents were evacuated as well. So, the legacy of the US would still live.
That means the President is still alive and is in some remote area devoid of zombie life.
"I see some people! They appear to be walking around." one of the soldiers said. And the people seem to notice us because they were waving at us.
"Stop the car," Chris said, the car stopped. He and others got out. Two of the survivors looked familiar? Like you have seen them before. They both were tall and had beards.
They walked up to y'all. "Please, are you here to rescue us?" one of them pleaded. "Yes, we're here to take you to our temporary base," Chris said.
They all smiled and some hugged each other. Chris ordered the soldiers to help some things and you approached the two survivors. "Why do you two look familiar?"
One of them laughed and smiled. "Well...- are you fan of Captain America and Thor?"
Your jaw dropped and your eyes widen. "No. Way. You're Chris Evans and Hemsworth!" you were lost at speech. "I thought y'all was dead! I- how-"
"Well, we survived! I'm not too sure about the others though..." Chris H said with that thick Australian accent. You both were just talking, unknown to Chris R was glaring holes into your head.
After y'all returned to MIT Dorms, you still talked with Chris E and H. You didn't even acknowledge Chris R's glares.
He was getting more and more jealous. 'I hate those two!' Chris yelled in his mind. They were taking your attention from him.
"We have to go M/n! We need to find supplies." Chris yelled at you. 'What's wrong with him?' you thought to yourself. "Bye guys!" You waved at the two Chris.
"He was fun to talk to." Chris H said and Chris E agreed.
«••••••••••••••»
TIMESKIP (To Supermarket)
«••••••••••••••»
You and Chris arrived at the market. There were some abandoned cars in the parking lot. "Come on." You both walked to the doors and opened them.
The place was absolutely trashed. Lights flickering, aisles tipped over, some cans on the floor - also money, which was useless-, and the roof caved in on the left side.
"Look for non-perishables. Canned food would be good and find any water- if there is any that is." you nodded your head before going down one of the aisles.
There were some canned foods but no water. The smell of a rotting corpse filled the air, you could hear flies buzzing. "Ugh." you covered your nose and looked at the rotting corpse. "Poor bastard..."
Meanwhile, Chris was looking for the same stuff, but he was still bitter about you talking to those guys. And completely ignoring him. He could already imagine your punishment.
He could imagine you begging for more, feeling the tightness of your ass wrapped around his cock. 'Shit.' Chris was getting hard. His cock was feeling restricted by the tight pants.
"Hurry up, M/n!" Chris yelled from the other side of the store. "Okay!" you finished gathering anything you could find. 'Why are we leaving early? We have few more places to loot/raid.'
You left the aisles and made your way to the front doors. "Come on, we have to go." you both we made went to the vehicle and drove back to base.
You had found some supplies. 15 canned foods, and some water as well. It wasn't much, but it's something.
«••••••••••••••»
TIMESKIP (Arrival at the base.)
«••••••••••••••»
You and Chris arrived at MIT. You were gonna go talk with Chris E and H, but Chris R wasn't having it.
"Hey-" Chris grabbed your hand and began to rush to the room. Everyone knew what was gonna happen. 'Ah, shit- there gonna go at it again.'
At the room, Chris pinned you against the wall and latched his lips onto yours. The kiss rough, his much larger body pushed against yours shows the difference in size.
His tongue pushed against your teeth telling you to open them. You slowly pushed your mouth, Chris immediately pushed his tongue and invaded your mouth.
"Mmm-" you moaned into the kiss as Chris began to grip your ass. "Up." He growled into your ear. You wrapped your legs around his waist and continued to make out.
He lifted you and carried you to the bed. He slammed you onto your back before pulling away and attacking your neck. "A-ah!" Chris found your sweet spot.
"You belong to me, M/n! I claimed you that night we had sex last night!" Chris growled. "Strip." he quickly removed his clothes, leaving him in his boxers.
You could see the outline thick meaty cock. "You got hard from just kissing me?" you laughed. "You don't talk me like that! You're the slut here." Chris growled as he gripped and slapped your thighs.
You whimpered under the touch. "Look at you, whimpering under me. And your pathetic cock got hard from me hitting you. But let's see what this ass has to say." Chris said as he put your legs on his shoulders
You then felt his thick slicked fingers at your entrance. One finger slips in, your muscles immediately clenched at the invader. "M-mm." you gripped the sheets as his finger pushed deeper.
Then a second finger went in. You clench even more as it did a scissor motion. "Aagh!" you felt his fingers touch the bundle of pleasure. "You're ready."
Chris pulled his fingers out to see your hole doing a grabbing motion. 'Fuck... that's hot.' Chris threw his head back while jerking his cock. "Can't wait to pound this slutty boipussy."
You felt his fat tip push past your tight ring. "Mmm... C-Chris!-"
Smack
"YOU DON'T CALL ME THAT! You didn't learn from last time? You. Call. Me. Sir. You got that?" Chris growled/yelled. "Y-yes, Sir... It's just that... You're so big..." You whimpered.
Then with one Thrust, Chris pushed his entire cock inside. "See? You're taking all 12 inches of me! Fuck, so tight..." Chris groaned. His cock was touching your prostate.
His thick meaty cock filled your insides perfectly. Like you were made for each other. "Y-you're... splitting m-me... in two!" you moaned as you felt it throb and twitch.
"P-please... fuck me... make me your slut." you begged. Chris smirked before snapping his hips.
He began pounding into you. His big cum-filled balls smacked against your ass as he thrusts harder. "S-sir! Y-you feel... s-so good!" You moaned as you threw your head back and gripped the sheets tighter.
"You think those guys can fuck you like I do?! Only I can give you this pleasure, only me!" Chris growled as he thrust harder, hitting your prostate repeatedly.
You used the last of your strength to get up and wrapped your arms around Chris's neck. You clawed his back as he thrust more, you were sure those were gonna leave marks.
"Maybe those guys can give me more pleasure," you smirked at your fake statement. You heard a deep growl as Chris dropped you on the bed and flipped you onto your stomach.
"You fucking slut! Only I can give you this much pleasure! Those guys don't deserve you. Bet their cocks aren't as big as mines." Chris growled as he gripped your hips.
Sounds of skin-slapping and balls slapping against your ass filled the room and the others in the building had to hear it. The walls weren't soundproof.
Your cock was twitching, ready to release a load. "You're about to cum without me touching you! Well, I'm -FUCK- about to cum too." Chris groaned as you tighten around him.
"P-please... give me... y-your load!" You moaned as you arched your back to give Chris more access. "Want me to fill this slutty ass with my cum? Gonna... cum... soon!"
After 5 more thrusts, Chris reached his breaking point, and so did you.
"FUCK! I'M CUMMING! CUM WITH ME!" Chris groaned, he wrapped his hand around cock stroking it before you released it all over his hand. That was enough for him.
"FUCK!" you felt his cock twitch before pumping his hot load inside, filling you up to the brim.
*Breathing intensifies*
Chris collapses onto the bed right next to you with his cock still inside. You felt him pull out with his cum leaking out. "I'll never leave you for those two. My heart only beats for you," you said sincerely turning over to face him.
"I'll never leave you too. We'll be together until our time runs out." Chris said pulling you into a kiss filled with passion and love.
'There is still Love in a Hopeless World.'
THE END.
«••••••••••••••»
A/N: Finally this is done! I hoped you enjoy this, by 🍓Little Strawberries🍓!
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builder051 · 6 years
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Hi there! I love your work! Would you perhaps be willing to write a drunk, nauseated Peter Quill aboard the Milano? With some inebriated angst, maybe? No pressure if this doesn't interest you; and I'm sorry for the vagueness. I hope you're having a great weekend!
This is a good one!  Thanks.  This got unexpectedly deep, and for a few days now I’ve had this desire to write someone puking into a cardboard box.  So.  Yeah.
_____
It’s a week after they buried Yondu.  In the figurative sense.  They buried Ego more literally, but that loss doesn’t have the same grief attached to it.  That one’s rooted in anger.  
The anger makes Quill do things.  Yesterday he busted his knuckles when he decided to fight hand-to-hand instead of with his usual weapons.  He still wanted to hit things after all the enemies went down, so he punched a wall too.  Today his hand’s swollen and wrapped in bandages, but that’s ok.  It barely hurts now that he’s halfway through his 12-pack.
Quill doesn’t know what he’s drinking except that it was cheap and the caps are twist-off.  He’s clumsy enough without having a bottle opener to deal with.  He finishes off another and throws the empty bottle toward the trash.  He misses, and it rolls across the floor.
“Good one,” Rocket snipes at him from the pilot’s chair.  “You’re real good at keeping this place clean, you know.”
Quill sighs.  It’s not worth responding, but the words still make his bad attitude flare up again.  He clamps a fresh bottle between his knees while he uncaps it, then takes a long draught.  He quells a burp with his sleeve.
“Yep, real fucking clean,” Rocket repeats.
“Hey.”  Quill’s thin patience evaporates.  “Just…just fucking shut up.”  The raccoon’s frustrating him now, but even if Quill succeeds in making him be quiet, the anger’s still going to be there.  And if he pounds Rocket, he’s going to regret it.  
He regrets not appreciating Yondu more.  Quill takes another sip.  He was a bad kid.  He’s Ego’s kid.  Ego was bad.  Quill hates him.  He hates his mom for falling in love with him.  
Guilt turns the alcohol to sick bubbles in Quill’s stomach.  He misses his mom.  He misses Yondu.  He misses last week, before he had to think about any of this.
Rocket swears again, but this time it’s about asteroids, not beer bottles.  The ship swerves suddenly, and bitter alcohol and bile rush into Quill’s throat.  He doesn’t trust his drunken legs to carry him to the bathroom, so he tips the rest of the bottles out of their cardboard box and retches pathetically into it.  For one second he feels so sick that everything else leaves his mind.  Then Quill’s stomach stops contracting long enough for him to breathe, and he’s hot and mad again.  An angry tear rolls down his cheek.
“What’re they thinking, dumping their fucking space rocks in my goddamn flight path,” Rocket mutters.  Then.  “What, are you crying back there?”
Quill hurriedly wipes his eyes, then clutches the box to his chest as he heaves again.  “No, you idiot,” he chokes.  “I’m puking.”
He looks up long enough to see Rocket turn back around to face the windshield.  “Yeah,” the raccoon whispers.  That’s what I thought.”
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sokokoko · 3 years
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The formatting from Amino required some changes but here is my trash, fellas. Let's dissect it together.
This is me criticising my old work!
Chapter 1: Born like this
Currently in heaven
” Lillith dear, be careful playing in the forest and be nice to every creature you see.“
Mom told me as Dad patted my short blonde hair while I listened to my parents ranting about safety. Safety pffftt! That's so BORING.
” Oh and steer clear of the rogue angels and demons! Stay away from dangerous things like raccons! And badgers!“ Dad added on to the list of things that I shouldn't do.
I'm going to do ALL of them. Besides I was born an angel! I'm basically ALREADY dead! “ OkthanksMomandDad!” I quickly said running off to cause mischief.
“Time to disobey Mom and Dad!”
An eight year old Lillith said before dashing through the portal.
Meanwhile in hell
” Now son. You WILL go to the forest but steer clear of angels. Understood?“ Lucifer The King of Demons, otherwise known as Satan or The Devil said.
” Yes Father, but lots of rogue angels and demons have been randomly appearing in places like the forest if I go I'll probably meet an angel or a demon who wants revenge from you. It's best I stay here.“
An eight and a half pin- I mean SALMON haired demon said to his father.
” THIS IS YOUR PROBLEM!!! YOU'RE A WIMPY, SAD, PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A DEMON!!! YOU COWER AT THE FACE OF DANGER AND WON'T EVEN HARM A FLY! WELL YOU'RE NOT COMING OUT OF THAT FOREST UNTIL YOU'VE AT LEAST KILLED A RABBIT!!! UNDERSTOOD!?“The demon yelled at his whimpering son.
The boy let out an ALMOST inaudible 'yes' as her scurried into the portal. The boy ran and ran and ran with tears in his eyes for what seemed like forever but was only a few minutes.
Lillith's P.O.V.
Ok. It's official. This forest is BOOORRRIIINNGG!!! I saw cute bunnies. Little butterflies and a strong looking deer.
Where were all the raccoons? Maybe I should have tried to fight the deer? No. Mom said to be kind to every creature... Wait. I hear something I think it's CRYING?
Daniel's P.O.V.
” I'm pathetic. I can't believe a RABBIT of all things outsmarted me!“ I said aloud under the assumption that there was no one here.
I reached my hand towards a large crystalline pond. I ran my fingers across a slightly bloody scratch on my face that made a perfect line across my nose. ” Worthless.” I muttered as tears spilled from my eyes.
Just then I heard rustling from the bushes. 'So I'm not alone' I thought as I stood up and dried the tears off my tanned cheeks. I stealthily moved towards the bushes, it was probably just a rabbit or something.
As bravely as I could I said ”WHO'S THERE!?“
Lillith's P.O.V.
'I've been spotted!' I thought as I panicked about the unknown creature coming my way. May as well approach it too.
No one's P.O.V.
Unknowingly at the exact second Lillith stuck her head out of the bush Daniel TRIED ,emphasis on tried, to stick his head into the bush. As a result they both collided foreheads and tumbled onto the dew covered grass behind the bush.
Clutching their heads (At the same time) with their muddy hands they proceeded to shout “OW! OW! OW! OW! OOOWWW!!!!” But when their squeezed shut eyes fluttered open it became a staring contest.
Ruby red eyes that were tinted gold met sapphire blue ones that were tinted silver. The two eight year old's stared for about at LEAST 6 minutes before Daniel's eyes fluttered close to blink.
When he opened them again h-! “ AAAAAAHHH!!! WHAT ARE YOU!?!?” (WOW.Rude. What kind of characters interrupt the author?) They both said at the same time.
“ You've got bat/bird wings! Goat horns on your head!/a floating ring!” They said simultaneously.
“ So Batty Boy why were you crying?” Lillith asked.
“ My name's not Batty Boy it's Daniel! And I wasn't crying!” Said Daniel pouting in the process.
“I told you my name what's yours?” Daniel followed up his statement with. “ I'm Lillith and I saw you crying Batty!” Lillith said seemingly ignoring his first statement.
“ If you're gonna call me that Imma call you Birdie Boo!” Daniel retorted.
“ I only called you Batty Boy 'cause it's cute and it fits you!” Lillith protested.
“ The only cute one here is you Birdie Boo!” Daniel said smugly.
At the end of the day Lillith helped Daniel kill a rabbit for his Dad. They met, they laughed, they played. Every day they met each other in the forest telling stories and hunting the rogues and monsters.
They did this for years becoming closer than before.
But when they turned 13 they stopped meeting. But this only lasted for 2 years. But when they turned 15 they started meeting by the pond again. 16 years old. That's when they started noticing things.
Little things like Daniel's adorable freckles. Or Lillith's beautiful dimples...
To be continued...
And unfortunately I did continue it a bit. Good grammar really butters my bread but I don't know if I wanna talk about grammar here so—
Pacing: well, it's completely non existent. From the constant point of view switches to the time skip at the end it was completely unsatisfactory. POV switching isn't really done like that in proper books or even (well written) fanfics. It's annoying and a little lazy since I should be describing the scene there instead. I think it's best to pick a POV and stick to it but you could risk a gamble at it to see if you have the necessary skill. Just... not as frequent as in here.
I definitely wanted to get onto the meat of the story by ageing them up but it would've been better to start with teens, get a flashback and gradually unveil their secret time spent growing up together. I feel like pacing was the biggest issue other than cringe.
Characterisation: Ngl, Lilith's character is kinda painful for me. It seems like I was going for 'rebellious small child' but lines like:
"Safety? Pfft, that's SO BORING!!"
they really break the deal, y'know? I was definitely trying was too hard. I had a 'ruffian devil-child' personality in mind for her and this just doesn't fit the bill. Daniel on the other hand, well, his segment was very 'in your face' and forceful about him being meek and weak and not at all fit to be a devil. I guess if I wrote his part better he may have actually fit what I wanted him to be but I think Lilith would need a new scene from scratch. She's literally just a bored tomboy and not at all what the summary promised.
Other(?): I'll admit I'm a sucker for nicknames so the Batty Boy and Birdie Boo don't really bother me 'cause they were made for the express purpose of pissing off the other party.
But, wow, I have several questions and I'm the one who wrote this.
But why did I think it was a good idea to break the fourth wall in between narration? Gross.
Edit: coming back to this (20/7/23), I actually didn't know Lilith was a significant figure in demonology when I wrote this so,, that's interesting
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For the ask game: You have a weakness/strong appreciation for pretty-faced long-haired men and buff women (so do I, tbh). All of these people have mastered the fuck-around-or-find-out expression, which I am inclined to believe is probably your default expression. You're also A+ at giving the gays everything they want, which means you're capable of looking at things through another's viewpoint.
Oh, you ;)
I do want to flatter myself and say that yes the art resembles the artist, but that would be lying. I have a round-ish face and my eyebrows are pretty pathetic, plus I mostly just look ... tired? By default my eyes are droopy and I have natural dark circles. Plus I'm extremely unphotogenic, I just look bad through any camera you point at me even if I look fine IRL :')
Basically I draw hot people because I myself look like a trashed raccoon.
As for giving the gays everything they want ... I just think the gays have good taste sometimes. It's less about looking through another's viewpoint and more looking through my own and going "yeah boiiii." Although I will say it's usually something people say about my female characters, and idk if that's because most of my friends/audience are female and thus "gay," or because the men I draw aren't typically what gay men might find attractive. Oh well. I'm my own primary audience.
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halenhusky309 · 1 year
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I do expect some insane take from a certain JC stan, but all I get is the same old yapping points to make JC's actions seem better, only to realize the bar to be the so-called good bro and a decent person is so low. It's getting boring and also making JC look like a bland discounted WWX.
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