#/also legend saying hes dead

[song-linked-from-nine-verses]

First Big Gig, pt (unknown)

Wild doesn't realize that his breathing stops being even, as the crowd engulfs any tiny sound that his body is making. Even then, he tries to keep his body together, and twists his face, keeping it neutral. His stomach seems to churn uncontrollably, like one of those kneading machines he uses for making bread. But Wild was so sure he did not eat anything strange today. Maybe he did. He can't remember.

He thinks his heart is pounding way faster than it should, but the pounding of the massive speakers is making him question whether or not his brain made it up.

His brain is partly in protest, but luckily, for some reason Wild keeps walking forward. The room is so crowded and warm that Wild is sweating profusely. His knuckles turn white as he grips the trolley, but the AC makes his hand so cold that he's slowly losing his grip. A part of Wild wants to go back.

"Nervous?" Warriors asks both of them, though it's super hard to parse what he says. 

Wild couldn't even move enough to nod. He can only think, and his thoughts only have "stop, no, go back". His vocal chords, on the other hand, seem to have been stuck, but he didn't have to answer, as Warriors can't even hear what Four said through the massive echoes of the sea of people. 

"Let's show the other idiots what we're made of!" Warriors proudly says, and Wild tries his hardest to crack the widest smile.

Next thing he knows, the blinding lights are shining on him. He can't see anything but blobs, but that's okay, his hands are still playing. He can't ruin their first big gig like this. He just can't. Warriors have been waiting for this day since he met them.

He normally looks over to Four and Warriors, to wink at them to signal an improv, or do a little funny on the side, but if he looks anywhere but his guitar the world seems to just ever so slightly tilt. His hands start to slide off the strings, surely no one heard that he accidentally missed a few notes?

His stomach, on the other hand, is actively betraying him. It hurts so bad, a nagging, throbbing pain. But, that's okay, he just needs to focus on playing. He just needs to focus. He can't see anything but flashing colors. His head feels so light. He needs to focus. Focus. Focus. That is a lie. He can't focus.

— —-

"Missed?" Wind suddenly says.

"Hmm?"

"Their guitarist. He missed a beat." 

"No shit Sherlock, they play math rock. Of course it's going to 'miss a beat'. But yes, I notice the guy is playing worse and worse." Legend says. 

"I know yall guys don't like this type of music so...If you want to leave we can-"

"No! It's not that" Wind cuts Twilight off. "I mean, even for their music, their guitarist misses a beat. Multiple times!"

"There's a sudden… shakiness, that I can't put a finger on." Legend adds.

Now that he mentions it, Twilight notices that their guitarist isn't standing straight. "What do you make of it? Should we be worried?"

"Could be stress or stage fright? Who knows, it's their first time in front of such a large crowd. I was exactly the same."

Wind throws his hand. "So you DID lie that day!" 

Legend pretends he didn't say anything. "All I'm saying is, unless their guitarist collapses, it's nothing to worry about."

And just as he finished that sentence, a loud, distorted sound played and a massive THUD on the ground followed. 

Their guitarist actually collapses.

— — 

It took a while, but the moment Wild starts stirring on the equipment box, Warriors immediately rushes to him.

"Wild?" Warriors asks, and pulls his hair out to check his temperature again. At least he doesn't have a fever.

The guy tries to turn but Warriors holds him back before he falls off. "uummmmm….wh..where…"

"Don't worry, we're backstage. How are you feeling?" 

One of the staff backstage walks over and hands Warriors a bottle of water.  "Is he doing well?"

Warriors shrugged. "But, thank you for your concern… erm.."

"Impa."

"Oh, I also know an Impa. Thank you, Miss Impa. I will look for you if anything comes up."

As Impa walks away, Wild jolts upright. "The Concert!," he says, but quickly flinches then curls into a ball. "owwwww… no, no, no it's all my fault… Did they make us leave? Where is Four?"

"Hey, I told you not to worry!" Warriors pats Wild's back. The kid is soaked in sweat, and he is shaking. There's a slight hiccup, as if he's holding back a sob. He pulls down his scarf, making sure that Wild is seeing him smile. "No one is at fault, you hear me?"

"...you said you'd be so mad if anything goes wrong…"

Warriors' eyes widen. "Oh no, if I accidentally made you feel bad, I am so sorry."

A long sniff and tears start streaming from Wild's face. Warriors is not good with crying faces, so he just awkwardly opens the water bottle and hands it to Wild. He accepts, and starts inhaling it like a thirsty elephant.

"Eyes, Wars. So many. And I tried to ignore them, but then everything turned into blinding, staring lights, and-"

"Hey, if anything, I'd be more mad if something wrong happens to my friends. Besides, they haven't kicked us out, and Four is still out there.". 

The room echoes and next thing you know it, Four starts jamming the worst infamous grooves known to man. 

Man he is brave.

Wild lets out a chuckle. As the crowd boos, and Four keeps playing, the chuckle turns into a loud cackle.

The cackle quickly turns into a grimace as Wild suddenly pulls himself into a ball, gripping his abdomen. "I don't know what's worse, the pain or whatever Four is doing outside."

Warriors pats Wild's back. "I'll ask the staff if they have anything." Warriors says, but before he can stand, someone throws him a faux-fur bag.

"Oh, he's dead! " The Vet says once he has a good look at Wild, muffled by his face covering. 

"There's advil in there. And ibuprofen." Rancher gestures at the bag.

"And, I never asked you guys to be here." Warriors pulls up his scarf to cover his face, and throws the bag back at the Veteran. "Why are you guys here? If you want to mock us, I hope we can go outside so I can punch you properly."

"Wouldn't want to make a scene, too crowded out there." Their drummer says, as he stuffs the bag back into Warriors' hands. "If I wanted to mock, I would wait until you guys start playing."

"Alright, partner, not too far." Rancher says, as he pats the Vet's back. 

Warriors rolls his eyes, but makes no effort to return the bag. He sits back down next to Wild. 

"If it's a stomachache, and he really has no idea why, then it could just be stress. In which case he'll be fine in a few minutes." The Vet says, shooting a look at Wild. "Or hours. Depends on whether your guitarist wants to get back out on stage."

Sailor also jumps on the equipment box, putting himself right next to Wild. "It's okay to feel frightened, you know. And if you're not ready, it's okay to say so."

Man, these guys are way too wholesome than what I give them credit for, Warriors mumbles.

Wild stares at the Vet, then he turns his gaze back at Warriors. It's a "I don't want to do this, but what about you" kind of look.

"I still want to go back out there…" Warriors says, so Wild straightens himself, and starts to stand up. Warriors holds him back down. "But-"

"I can fill the empty spot if you want? Do you have the sheets?" The Vet asks.

"Why not the little guy over there? Also, I thought you hated our music? Can you even play guitar?" Warriors raises a brow, but the Vet just shrugs in response.

"I can play Never Meant." Legend shrugs. "Or that song by Tricot that you guys play. Just need the sheets. And don't do anything too weird."

"Well, then, Wi- I mean, Champ, can he borrow the sheets? Or, do you still want to play? Either option is fine."

— — 

"I should have used our guitar instead, this one is so greasy." The Vet says, then he seems to be throwing a friendly insult towards Wars and Four, but it was too far that Wild can't really make out what he said.

"Ready?"

"Woo!"

The moment he starts playing, Wild's eyes widen. 

"But for someone who has never listened to these songs…" Wild accidentally said his thoughts out loud.

"Impressive, right?" Rancher says as he walks up to Wild. He never stood so close to any of the band members, and Wild notices that his mask has hand sewn words in the Twili language. "We call him the Vet for a reason."

"To be fair, he actually hate-listens to you guys." Sailor chimes in. "Wait, don't tell anyone about that."

Wild spits a laugh. "Why does he hate-listen to our band?"

"He likes how your cymbals sound."

"Oh, thank you. Our drummer made them himself." Wild proudly says.

"Woah, cool!" Sailor exclaims, then he starts cackling. "OHHH! Smith! Cymbalsmith!"

"Mhm! Well then, if he ever needs any-" Wild was about to pull out his phone, but then remembers that he gave it to the Vet for music sheets. "Okay, I'll read out a number, and tell him if he needs cymbals just give us a call. If he wants, he can have some for free as well."

"I doubt he'd use cymbals made from the enemy band, however." Rancher says. 

"His grandpa runs it, so if we're talking technicality, it's not from 'the enemy band'."

"Thank you." 

"No, thank you. The meds help a lot."

[malewifesband]

kabru would like cheap erotica novels. he'd like to pretend (to himself at least) that its about his psych hobby since there's a lot you can glean about a cultural zeitgeist and of course what kind of things people are finding sexy lately from the porn being made and getting popular, and im sure talking in excited whispers with older women about the bodice rippers they like is a plus, but ultimately i think he'd just genuinely find them hot. hes absolutely the type to do erotic roleplays and get way too in-character

[jellydragons]

tetra is having a Day

[ethanharmonia]

The Hisui Trio in my AU!! :D

(they dont know how to dress up 😔)

I wanted to make reference sheets for the three, even though i took a ton of inspo from many things but its for investment i promise i promise

Those three are friends in this AU, they are all in the present world and they are like a family to each other tbh, they might get into a few arguments but they talk it out later on.

To be fair i think those three would give each other kisses, not in a romantic way though, its just more of a platonic thing i guess??

The three of them own dragon type pokemon, from gen 4, 6 and 8 (me like even numbers dont mind me), i kinda felt like these pokemon fit them best by personality (im not exactly sure for 100%)

Dropping the lore here :

The only way Adaman and Irida could go back and out of Hisui was by Volo taking them with him by going through portals with Giratina, of course the two of them got frightened at the sight of Giratina showing up right in front of their eyes for the first time but they got used to it later on.

As a gift of gratitude from Volo for still being accepted by Adaman and Irida even after everything he's done in the past, he made and gave a clone of Origin Dialga and Origin Palkia to them so that they could also travel through the portals or around the world without his help (he's getting tired from babysitting them pls let him live).

Adaman and Irida just live with Lucas, Dawn and Barry in Twinleaf Town, sometimes Volo comes by to visit them and hang out with them. Lucas and Dawn dont have memories of Rei and Akari, so they have no idea of what Volo used to be back then, if they would then oh boy they would try to kill him.

{With Dialga} Adaman possesses Steel type powers (or Metal Bending as they say), he uses it a lot for combat but also for reaching high places if he cant go up there or reach it by climbing, he bends the metal into a form of a long rope in order to get up there.

{With Palkia} Irida has Water type powers (or Water Bending), she is not really the type of a person to fight but she rather heals others, it also works on pokemon too, though sometimes she can kick ass once in a while if anyone drives her mad.

{With Giratina and Arceus} Volo has all the elements, including Dark type powers but he never uses those as he only sees the bad in them and never wishes to use them, reminding him a lot of Cyrus {bro hates him more than anything}, with Volo being an Archon, he can summon pretty much every pokemon, including the legendaries and mythical ones, and the ultra beasts, even though the legendaries are gods too and are feared by many, Volo however just sees them as misunderstood creatures/beings, as he has a better bond with them than with his own people.

Volo despises humans, he only sees the bad in them as he has only seen the bad things that humans did, and with Volo being isolated in Arceus's realm and being there for about 280 years (met Arceus at 20), he cant really change his opinion about it, even if he has friends that are different than the rest of the humans, Volo still has doubts that humans are good, unless proven to him. Sure, Volo is the archon and savior of this world and he is trying his best to make the world a better with no wars or catastrophies, he hates humans, but he just wants peace, but he is aware that even if this happens one day then the peace wont last forever, the world cant remain peaceful for eternity, theres always going to be something happening all the time and he will have to deal with it on his own.

This would be Volo and his Dragapult (canon)

Imagine praying to god, and this is who you're praying to

[archersgoon]

+

&

also

they literally hated him for being bisexual

[apotelesmaa]

My initial off the top of my head wxs Pokémon partners match up would be

Nene - primarina/rotom/hatterene. Primarina is self explanatory, the rotom was originally rui’s but it possesses robonene so it’s hers now, and hatterene…

Emu - bewear/mr. mime/togekiss. Bewear is funny (& similar to the mascot bodyguard), Mr. Mime is self explanatory, togekiss is self explanatory wrt Pokédex entries.

Rui - porygon z/mimikyu/silvaly. I feel like all of these are pretty self explanatory.

Tsukasa - dragonite/sylveon/rapidash. Dragonite is a wxs world link reference, sylveon just fits, rapidash because there is no Pegasus pokemon.

[followmykpopsideblog]

So I finally defeated the monster horde at Fort Hateno (how many times did I die? Hahaha not relevant...) clearing up the road so I could FINALLY go visit Hateno

First thing I did was check to make sure my house was still there ofc! And.....

Zelda's journal??? 👀👀👀👀👀

Oh my God..... they were roommates...

[toytulini]

i made an oc thats at least nicknamed "Stupid" and im constantly thinking about what a power move that is tbh

[thornshadowwolf]

I don't remember why but I dreamed about looking up the common religions in different regions of Thailand last night

[hauntingblue]

Hiyori is the most effective person to complete their kill so far

[hanzajesthanza]

i loveeee being in a fandom where the work of media in question is complete. it's finished. it's done.

we don't have to wait around for the next book or watch as the series gets dragged out and beaten like a dead horse for a neverending amount of cash flow.

the creator had a vision, he stuck to it, he executed it, and now we have "the work"—an established body of canon which we can talk about and discuss, without having to say "unless this gets changed or modified in future installments." there is a set number of short stories, a set number of books. asides from the comments of the author himself said in interviews and opinions remarked upon in essays and other works, there is nothing more we have to be prepared to risk everything on. the story is complete. it has been told. everything we know has already been written down.

i know some, or more likely, most people cannot stand it when there are no new or upcoming additions to the work of a fandom, nothing to "look forward to." but i love it. please don't give me any more, this was more than enough to deal with, i'm still working on this, honestly. rather, what i'm "looking forward to" are interpretations, analysis, and other work from fans from which we can generate—ourselves—ongoing discussions and arguments which will last us forever.

i don't want hype. i want love.

[waywardsalt]

When Tetra was petrified, she remained somewhat concious and could vaguely hear her surroundings, but, obviously, couldn't communicate back. Now, being a descendant of the royal bloodline and/or having a Triforce-induced superpowers, she'd usually be able to contact Link telepathically, but, after being turned to stone, Tetra's call is too quiet, and Link can't hear it, because he has his own innate and pretty potent wind magic, drowning any weak external signals, not to mention Ciela and her siblings adding their magic into the mix.

There is someone else who can hear her in that state, though, and that's Linebeck. He doesn't wield any magic (or nothing significant, at least), so he doesn't drown her out. Whenever Link and Ciela/other spirits leave his ship to go dungeon-crawling or stuff, if the engine's turned off, only then can Linebeck hear Tetra calling out. At first, he's naturally freaked out and thinks Link brougt a ghost from the Ghost Ship, but later they figure everything out and manage to communicate with Tetra and relay what she had to say to Link.

(Also, for a first couple of days Linebeck referred to Tetra as a "figuredeck", until realizing that the subject is too sensitive for Link).

That's a cool idea! Giving Tetra a sort of role, a new role for Linebeck, and some new group dynamic stuff, that's a neat concept.

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Day 16, waist, leg, and upper arm done. Next is the arm wrap, Elazul's hand, and all of Princess Pearl, then we're done!

[gutsby]

Bigger in Texas

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel won’t fit.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Size kink (seriously, don’t read if you hate big dicks / disgusting descriptions) Penis and pussy pronouns. Virginity loss. Age gap. Praise kink. Daddy kink. Joel ‘hung like a fucking horse’ Miller is a soft dom and also a good teacher. Competence kink (?)

Note: Somebody made a fic challenge to use penis pronouns, and I can’t for the life of me remember who it was. If y’all find them please show them this and tell them I love their brain 🫠

Update: @sp00kymulderr you’re a legend for this. Dick pronouns are engrained in my brain, and I’m forever grateful.

Word count: 2.3k

This wasn’t the life Joel Miller had pictured for himself.

The dead coming back to roam the world and eradicate most of its population, for one. The cold. Finding his baby brother way out here in Wyoming with a wife and a child on the way. The looks he was getting these days. It’s not like he’d asked to get mixed up with a girl your age. It just happened. And since damn near every-fucking-thing that had “happened” to him since outbreak day fifteen years back had been bottom of the barrel, full-blown nightmare territory, the second he saw a good thing fumble across his path, he’d seized it—you.

You, who were young enough to be his daughter.

You, who’d never seen a man fully before meeting him.

You, who hadn’t squeezed so much as a finger in herself.

But much like his past, Joel Miller was a sordid and sick kind of man, and he had the cock to prove it: presently weeping precum at the site of your softest, tightest hole, smearing the pearly-white slick through your folds with a sound so sweet it was nauseating. Begging for entrance.

“Oughta have a boy your age pop your cherry, kid.”

It was simple.

“Ain’t right havin’ a man my age all in your guts.”

And true.

The head of his cock made another wet, sickening noise through your folds, and as though instigated by the sound, your eyes flitted to the source. You smiled.

“Probably. But I want you,” you answered. Soft.

Joel got harder, and he hadn’t thought that was possible. His gaze joined yours, and the sight nearly finished him.

Beneath him, your legs had spread wider, showcasing that perfectly glistening seam alongside the head of his cock. He looked huge. Or you looked small. Or perhaps it was both, and he was old, and he really shouldn’t be doing this at all, but then his hips stuttered a bit and his length pushed in. Joel hissed and seized the headboard.

It wouldn’t even go in. The tip just stretched the rim.

“Baby, fuck—” Joel whimpered.

“He’s so big.”

Three little words from your lips, and it almost did him in.

Again.

You wriggled your hips and flashed another happy grin.

“He wants in, daddy. I can feel him pulsin’ like I am.”

You volleyed a look up to Joel as if to say, ‘So that means we’re ready, right? Will you let me have him?’

And, strangled by guilt as he was, Joel couldn’t resist.

He let his big, bulbous, leaking head sink in the tiniest bit, and he let out a groan. Your walls were so tight. This was him, too—his tip was oversized, just like the rest of him—and when it notched in an inch, Joel could see the pain flash quick in your eyes. His hips moved to retreat.

But then your heels were lifting and digging in his ass, and though strained, your voice made it out, weakly:

“Don’t, daddy. I want him.”

Joel couldn’t dream of refusing.

And his vision blurred more at that word, him.

“I-I know. He wants you too, baby—”

Another quarter-inch.

“—so, so bad.”

“Daddy!”

Joel had to blink to try and wake from his daze. His tip was so warm, hugged so perfect and snug and wet, that he didn’t even realize that was all that fit. He was stuck.

You whimpered again.

“‘S’too big, daddy. Just make him go in.”

Your eyes rolled with indignation and overwhelming pleasure alike, and your hips squirmed again. This time, you tried to nudge him in deeper, but your body simply wouldn’t budge; you’d reached the widest part of him.

“Honey, it’s—”

“Hurtin’! I need you inside me.” you cried, impatient.

“Just takes a little time to get there, darlin’—”

“Well, get to it, then. A tip ain’t enough.”

Joel’s face flushed. He might’ve been forced to bite back a laugh under any other circumstances, but this was your virginity. His bed. Your naked bodies, together, tonight.

He wasn’t about to rush it now and fuck everything up.

“This tip’s about to paint your pretty insides white and make you wait til next week to try again if you keep it up.”

That made you go still.

You shook your head while Joel released the headboard from his grip and took your hip in it instead. He grunted.

“Sweet pea, you gotta see—” he resumed, voice low, “—it won’t feel good for you or me if I just…push right in.”

You sighed, feeling his hold tighten.

“Tongue and fingers only do so much. You gotta learn.”

You whined, digging your feet in deeper when his tip drew back to your entrance. Looking a bit squeamish.

“Be brave…and patient for me.”

From the look in your eyes, Joel could tell you probably hated him right now. That was just fine. He adjusted his hips to a more comfortable place, and then he pinched your hip bone. He nudged you back, and he let you wait.

Then, right when you opened your mouth, he sank in.

Joel thrusted with only his tip, the size of a small lime, and he fucked your hole gently. Back and forth. Shallow.

It did enough. You squeezed both his forearms.

“Oh, daddy.” Your bottom lip trembled as you said it.

With his free hand, Joel smoothed your hair back.

“Yeah, what is it, baby?” he murmured, dulcet as ever, “Thought you said the tip ain’t enough for you, sugar.”

His words came slow. His strokes were delivered quick, though tenderly. Your brain appeared to be in a fog, or a trance, as your chin dipped down toward your chest, and you watched him breach the first inch of you repeatedly.

“Curious little thing.” Joel couldn’t fight the chuckle now.

“He’s so…” you trailed off.

You squeezed his arms, and he squeezed your hip back. He let you watch him fuck you with only his tip, and when your head began to tilt back from the strain, he reached up with his other hand and held the back of your neck. He felt you clench at that, and you both groaned.

“So…big,” you finished, eyes glazed.

“I know.”

This went on for the longest time: Joel stretching the first precious inch of your pussy with the head of himself, you watching and breathing deeply, whimpering occasionally, and him holding at the nape of your neck like a softer touch might lose you to him forever. Was this teaching? When you clenched again, he reckoned it was.

“That’s it, honey. Watch her swallow me.”

“Stretches real pretty for the tip, doesn’t she?”

“Bet she can’t even fit another inch of this cock.”

Suddenly, your head was jerking up under his hold.

Eyes flaring with a hot, juvenile kind of anger: “I can!”

Joel clicked his tongue against the backs of his teeth and pretended not to hear. He also had to feign indifference when your walls tightened and all but choked his head and a wave of new pleasure surged up through his body.

“She can, Joel, I’m serious!”

Another two seconds of this and Joel sensed he might see tears. Though his gaze had trailed up to yours, and the look in his appeared stern, deep down, he was just as quick to want to cave. He just hid it better than you did.

“You think so, sweet pea?”

“I know so. I need it.”

“Need him?”

“Y-Yes.”

How sweet you seemed. How naive you must be.

Joel might’ve been mean, but he wasn’t cruel. He also liked teaching lessons as much as he enjoyed showing you the way, so in the next second, he obliged. He took the last shallow thrust of his tip and sank into your cunt.

As he filled you, you whined. It only took an inch or two.

“Da-a-ddy. Please.”

You must’ve been begging for lenience. Joel retreated.

Then, much to the man’s surprise, you kicked your feet. Not in relief but in protest, shaking your head up at him:

“Put him back. Please. D-Deeper.”

It was as though Joel’s brain had exited through the back of his head and all rational thought escaped him, for the moment. The only voice he heard was yours. It was pleading. And in between your legs, you were soaked.

So drenched to allow him another inch. Then another. Then another. Joel fucked in gently and felt a seismic wave of pleasure seize his limbs—and likely yours, as well. It was as though in two blinks, you’d forgotten the pain altogether. You were suffused with need instead, eyes wincing and lips curling and sounds leaving your throat like an animal in heat. Want him deeper, please.

Joel sawed back and forth with just those five or so inches and made you writhe underneath him. Felt you clamp down on his thick, slippery cock and heard the remnants of your shared arousal making sounds as your body accepted him. Stretching wider. Getting wetter. Bringing him closer to the edge with every breath.

“She’s doin’…so good f’me,” Joel told you, brainless.

His thumb drifted to your clit. He rubbed it gently. No sooner had he finished the first circle around that nub when your hips were stirring again—this time incensed.

“Daddy.”

“I know, baby. I know.”

Joel kissed the top of your head, thumb insistent. When his eyes met yours, he was surprised to find them wet this time. Tears pooling and streaking down to your temples while your body bounced gently beneath his thrusts. A whimper trembled out, and Joel slowed.

He could tell from that look you didn’t want him to stop, though. It just felt so good. So, instead of dropping his pace too much, Joel cupped your chin in one hand, and with the other, he kept thumbing at your clit. Humming.

“Poor thing’s never had something this big in ‘er, huh?”

You shook your head. Cried a little more.

Joel kissed the tears on one side, lips smiling as he did.

“I can tell, baby. But she’s taking it so well.”

“Y-Yeah?”

His hips sped up a little. The thrusts were still shallower than they normally would be, given your state, but they seemed to be working well enough. You winced again.

Joel kissed the other side of your face to take more tears.

“Uh-huh,” he answered, “Openin’ up real nice for daddy.”

It was like his words worked as well as his thumb on your clit. You whimpered again, lips parting a little wider now, and the sound that came out was as desperate and feverish and fuck-drunk as Joel had ever heard it.

“S-Say it again,” you pleaded.

“Say what?”

“That he’s…stretchin’ me open. Makin’ me his.”

The soft, slick resonance between your body and his seemed to amplify even more—you were getting wetter, and Joel’s thrusts all but shook the bed with their force.

His eyes darkened when he felt you tighten again.

“Yeah? You like hearin’ all the filthy fuckin’ things your daddy’s doing? The way he’s breakin’ you in for him?”

You nodded. Your throat constricted with a moan.

And, just when a fresh set of tears seemed to be close on the horizon, Joel lowered himself to you. He held you to his chest, hips working relentlessly, and he watched your face screw up in pleasure. A trace of pain surfaced again, but it was soothed with a kiss. Joel grinned against you.

Between your thighs, his cock was throbbing with a feeling just as big. He knew he couldn’t keep this up much longer. Hurting and aching and needing as you were, he had to make sure that you would cum first.

When his cock grazed a fleshy, sensitive patch inside your walls, he knew it wouldn’t take much. He went on:

“C’mon, sugar. Daddy’s split you open on his cock so nice, least you can do is cum for him. Can you do that?”

His nose brushed yours. His thrusts sped up. You nodded, quickly, and when he shifted in the bed with his thumb still on your clit and his lips and his stubble grazing your mouth with every push of himself, he felt it.

It was a small pulse, at first.

Joel thought you might be adjusting—clenching—again, when the lips that were trembling against his own parted more. Your arms wound around his neck, and suddenly the throb of your walls around his member got tighter and tighter and tighter. One more second and your cunt might’ve squeezed the hot, sticky seed right out of his body and flooded your insides with it, but then came release. The ‘o’ of your mouth let out a shriek, at last, and your body went soft around him, beneath him, whining in turn, ‘Daddy, daddy, please’ while the muscles once taut and unflinching gave him reprieve. Fluttering repeatedly.

Joel fucked you through it. He talked you through it.

He stroked your hair, and he held you tight. Called you his sweetheart, pretty thing, perfect girl, you’re doin’ so good f’me. Keep going. That’s right, cum all over daddy. He told you to take what you needed, and without another word, he felt just that. Your cunt spasmed around him, and you consumed every inch he gave and drank every drop of spend shooting out in thick spurts.

You fell boneless on the bed when all was said and done.

You looked happy, and that made Joel even happier.

He stroked your cheek, and you leaned into it, clearly drained while your gaze held his in a weak sort of look.

It was soft. Loving, even. It could’ve been romantic.

Then Joel’s hand slipped down to the nape of your neck again. Your muscles were limp, like all the rest of you, but somehow, he was able to hold you up. Tilt your chin a bit.

Make you peer down between your shaking legs, where his cock was still sheathed inside you—partly, anyway.

Your eyes widened. Joel grinned.

“You did great, baby. Ready for the other half of him?”

can y’all believe this image is what inspired this fic HA

it’s only Thursday i’m sorry 😔

[interdimensionalhellscapeportal]

Outing myself as the gigantic legends loving dork that I am but look how cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute

This. Is. Gorgeous.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Glass Coffin

Weirder shit has happened in DC universe, but hear me out, Young Justice finds a glass coffin with Danny sleeping inside it. Maybe it's in some ancient tomb and hidden away for centuries, maybe it's in some villain's private collection of artifacts, maybe it's in some museum in plain sight.

And then Kon hears a heartbeat from it.

(I'm going with the version of YJ that is Kon, Tim, Cassie, and Bart here, fyi)

Assuming they didn't come to wherever they found the coffin just for the sake of it, they, as the responsible teenagers they are, finish their business first and take it to Mount Justice later to figure out what the fuck. Meanwhile, Danny is sleeping peacefully like a princess, all up in his King garb, with the Crown of stars, cape of night sky, and whatever else pretty stuff you want him to have. Point is, he looks majestic.

Tim looks up the records for the coffin. The files say it's hundreds of years old, and no one has been able to open it yet. The boy inside is stated to be either a statue or some kind of really well-preserved corpse - no amount of scanning registered any signs of life, so it was treated like a piece of art for the most part.

Yet, Con is absolutely positive he heard a heartbeat inside. What's more, he can still hear it now. It's impossibly slow but still recognizable.

Cassie finds a whole lot of legends about it, most of them speaking of 'only those from the other side can open the casket', and there are no clarifications to what kind of other side they are all talking about.

Of course, they all try. Because this is some kind of Snow White or Sleeping Beauty shit, and besides, none of them even think they would be able to open it anyway. And, sure, as soon as they are done having fun with it, they will report to the JL about their finding. Maybe the magic users will know something about the weird Sleeping Prince. They even go as far as to reason with the casket, loudly proclaiming where they are from, because they all come from very different 'sides'.

Bart goes first, explaining how he is from the future. The casket doesn't budge. Cassie goes next, stating herself as Themyskirian, but to no avail. Kon is next, with his half-Kryptonian heritage, but the glass coffin doesn't accept him as worthy either.

And then it's Tim's turn. And somehow, he flips the glass lid open with no effort at all.

A moment of silence follows, all the YJ members frozen in place, waiting for anything to happen, but the boy inside keeps just laying there, unmoving and with his eyes closed. Then Cassie makes a joke about kissing the princess to wake her up, and all of them start arguing on ethics and stuff because why is Robin the one that has to do the kissing, do you have any idea where that boy has been? Fuck off, you kiss him if you want it, and also, do you really want him to wake up, what if he is some kind of villain or an evil spirit, or-

"Which one of you assholes is dead enough to wake me up from my nap?"

And that's as far as I got with this idea. Maybe Danny was put into some magic sleep, maybe it was Clockwork's time shenanigans, maybe someone locked him inside and he decided to sleep it off, maybe he is there on his own volition, taking a vacation from Kingly duties.

I'm just having this vision of eternally beautiful Danny in a glass (oh, maybe it's not glass, maybe it's ice) coffin, and the YJ arguing over it. There's also Dead Tired potential here, because I love them, yes.