#and then the rest of the kids also join in

[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 🫠

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 😔

[sweetteainthesummerx]

packing it up!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

nhl masterlist !

series masterlist!

pairings: popstar!reader x quinn hughes

warnings: fluff, suggestive content, i also changed one word in the lyrics to fit the fic better

summary: summer at the lake house, and quinn realizes how completely in love with you he is.

song: packing it up by gracie abrams

word count: 2.1 k

notes: ideas from this ask!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

quinn glances at you from the rented car, your hair blowing angelically around your face. he thinks you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, even as you grimace and unstick your locks from your lipgloss.

his hand is heavy and warm on your thigh, your much smaller hand tucked over it.

he's both nervous and excited: you're the first girl he's ever brought to the lake house, the only one he's ever loved like this.

when quinn and you finally pull up to the lake house, luke and jack run out to greet you guys.

they offer hugs and brotherly kisses on the cheek to you, jack's girlfriend following close behind, the two of you reuniting with a squeal, chattering about some reality tv show.

his parents are at the door, hugging their oldest and his mom pulls you into a tight embrace too. jim tucks you under his arm, wanting to show you his new grill.

ellen and jim, who along with the rest of his brothers, met you at the hughes bowl game. technically, his mom had met you over facetime a week after you'd made it official.

at first, he could tell that she'd been a little wary of your public status and insane amount of fame but after getting to know you and seeing how much you cared for her son, she'd accepted you into the family with open arms. his dad liked you from the beginning, because you made chocolate chip cookies and looked at quinn like he hung the moon.

that night is busy and full of chatter, months worth of catching up finally done. you head up to shower and bed first, and jim slaps quinn's back as he gets up from where he was playing video games with his brothers for a drink of water.

"she's good for you son. don't let her get away," he grins, and quinn laughs, shaking his head.

"i don't plan to, dad. don't worry."

nearly an hour later when he drags his heavy feet up to his room and opens his door, he sees you and is suddenly wide awake.

you're on his bed, wearing a set of pink cotton pajamas, the thin and sparse material almost as soft as your skin under the warm over head light. you glow, you're prescence temptingly familiar.

he leans on the frame of the door just to watch you in your element.

your pretty, smooth legs are crossed, propping up your guitar as you softly pick at the strings with quick-practiced fingers and hum under your breath.

the first ever time he'd listened to you sing he'd realized that you were probably a genius. he'd never really been into music all that much as a kid, but he vaguely remembered you on the television at his friend's house and seeing posters of you everywhere.

at such a young age, you'd been famous, making millions of dollars and working with huge brands; yet here you are, hair still a little damp and looking like one of his teenage wet-dreams.

oh, if only 16-year-old quinn hughes could see this. actually, he'd probably be yelling at himself to join you on the bed.

"hey, baby." he murmurs, and you look up, smiling with tired eyes.

you let him set your guitar carefully into it's case, and he offers you soft kisses that make you giggle and squirm before he goes to the bathroom to wash up.

you're under the covers when he returns, and he crowds into you, shoving his face into your neck and breathing the familiar smell you your skin and bodywash.

he pushes his head into your chin as you laugh, soft voice saying something about acting like a dog, but he doesn't care.

he wants to merge into one with you, as weird as it sounds. being close to you physically is almost not enough. he feels like he can't breathe and that you're fresh air all at the same time, affection for you clogging thick in his throat.

you rub his scalp and his temples and his bones melt, his weight flattening you to the mattress.

he knows he's too heavy, but he can't bear the thought of moving even an inch from you, so his hands finds the curve of your waist, lifting you easily so you're chest to chest, your body like a weighted blanket on him.

"goodnight, quinny," you press a kiss into the little space in between his clavicles, the little dip pale under the stream of moonlight through the crack of the curtains.

he returns the favour to your guitar-calloused fingertips, and the two of you breathe in tandem as sleep finds you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

the next afternoon, after a big breakfast and a lazy morning, all of you usher out to the boat, eager to catch any droplet of that good, good michigan sunshine. ellen sends you all off with a cooler of drinks and sandwiches.

after quinn sets down the cooler and the other boys are figuring out the logistics of the boat, he tucks his big hands under your armpits and lifts you onto the wobbling vessel easily.

you kiss his cheek in thanks, and once everyone is settled down, jack's girlfriend whips out a humongous bottle of sunscreen and begins to slather her boyfriend down.

quinn sighs as you fill your hands with the sun cream, and turns grudgingly, back muscles shifting under pale skin.

he hisses as the cold liquid, his fingers coming to smack at the side of your thigh playfully when you laugh.

he helps you apply it too; you push at his head when his hands wander and you flush a sunburnt pink.

through out the day, as jack, luke and quinn take turns driving and wakeboarding, you tanned with jack's girl, planting yourself on your boyfriend's lap whilst he drove and tucked yourself on the seat with your book.

as the sun was setting and the boys were still insisting on wakeboarding, the music from the speakers was blasting music (once in a while, one of your songs would come on, and the whole boat would cheer, much to your embarrassment) as you nestled into your seat between quinn's legs, your back pressed up to his bare chest.

it was chilly on the water, quinn's hoodie and body heat around you your only source of warmth.

luke complains about all of the pda as the four of you laugh at his whining, and quinn rubs your goosebump-littered thighs.

you sigh happily, utterly exhausted but so, so content.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

quinn watches from his seat on the couch as you and his mother, the two most important women in his life, laugh together while cooking dinner.

ellen tells you something, and you giggle, glancing at him. he realizes he's grinning unconciously.

honestly, his mom is probably roasting him or telling an embarrassing story, but he doesn't mind. it's oddly domestic seeing you with his family, and he's delighted how well you fit in.

later that night, as the you settle in for bed, he asks what you were talking about with his mom.

your eyes glitter with adoration as you cup his jaw. he leans into your touch, his own hand resting over yours.

"you," you tell him so earnestly, and his heart fills with so much love.

three words rest on his tongue, but you yawn sleepily, tucking yourself into his side.

he lays awake for a few moments, the words heavy like a treasure box full of gold, ready to burst at any moment.

he is so, so in love with you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

three months later, when the air in vancouver is bordering on brisk, and when he finds you wearing his sweaters more often than not, you sit him down after dinner, passing him your laptop.

"i have something for you," you tell him nervously. he doesn't like seeing you unsettled, so he sweeps his thumb over your cheek until you relax.

he presses play on the video, and an acoustic guitar starts playing.

your angelic voice joins in, and he automatically bites back a smile.

i hope that you get everything you could ask for the cold side of your pillow, a real break for once good peppermint tea with cool wind on the drive home with no traffic for miles, for spring to come

the video fades into what he thinks are snippets of your first few months together immortalized on your camcorder: him ordering your coffee, walking in stanley park in the early march, him tying your skates on your third date, him driving, relaxed with the windows down on the way to the lake house.

i swear that i wasn't looking for much but that's just when you happened that's right when you happened got so damn close to packing it up but that's just when you happened and then you happened then you happened

it hits him at the chorus: this song is about him. you wrote a love song about him. he looks at you, and you're a little pink, still fidgeting. he hopes that his awe-struck expression is enough for now, because he has no words.

now i'm red in the face, and shy all of a sudden you move, i move, it's something, you fit perfectly and replace every game, you push none of my buttons and hold me through the morning, kinda new for me

the next clip streams seamlessly onto the screen. it's taken shakily through a screen door, the two of your figures swaying in a slow dance on the porch, the sun rising on the docks in the distance.

he relishes in how good the two of you look together, how right.

as the chorus plays, you tell him, "i think your mom took that,"

and he laughs voice broken with emotion, because of course his mom could tell how absolutely devoted he was to you.

i hope that you get my dark sense of humor sunsets in the summer with your family don't stop talking to me, maybe stay here forever we could die here together, I'd do it happily

around the campfire, the grainy-filtered camera pans to each member of his family, everyone laughing and chattering as they roasted marshmallows. the sun was a pretty orange against the purple-pink backdrop of the sky.

i'll hold you, i'll know you i'll never leave out the back door and i'd love to complete you hope you get all you could ask for

he watches with teary eyes a video of the two of you on the boat, in your own world. you're wrapped up in his hoodie and his arms as he rests his cheek on your head. he says something to you, and you throw your head back laughing, leaning back onto his shoulder.

'cause i swear that i wasn't looking for much but that's just when you happened that's right when you happened got so damn close to packing it up but that's right when you happened mm, then you happened

the last clip is of him, wearing a thin shirt and shorts, back to the camera. he's standing on the docks, hand reaching behind him to you.

your hand, he recognizes, slips into his perfectly and he turns, a devastatingly smitten look on his face as he looks to you.

when the music ends, he's pouting a little to keep from crying.

normally he doesn't get emotional easily, but you make it so easy for him to be vulnerable.

you smile, a little wobbly but gorgeous as ever as he tugs you onto his lap, burying his face into your neck.

he's sure you can feel his teary eyes and warm cheeks, but he doesn't mind.

"thank you, thank you," he mutters into your skin, clearing his throat when his voice cracks, "no one has ever done...anything like that for me before."

"you like it?" you ask, delighted.

"i love it, sweetheart," he tells you, kissing every inch of you he can.

those three words are back on his tongue, and if he's honest, they never left.

"i love you." he tells you steadily, his voice gravelly from the sheer force of his feelings.

you gasp a little, and he shakes his head: how could you ever doubt that he loves you with his entire being?

between tear-wet kisses and sweet, feather-soft caresses, you tell him you love him too.

he's never been too good with words, at expressing how he feels, but for you?

he'd tell you he loves you every single day.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

[wonderjanga]

Can I Please be Your Friend?

Billy doesn’t have friends. Between being Marvel and working odd jobs, he hasn’t really had the time some. So when he got invited to join the newly formed Justice League. He was ecstatic! Sure, these people were at least a very minimum of 20 years older than him and sure they would probably talk about taxes and stuff, but superhero friends! Meanwhile, the Justice League is like, “wow this guy is so social. I like it!”

Marvel: “You have a lighthouse…?” *sounds so amazed*

Aquaman: “Yeah. My dad was a lighthouse keeper so I got it when he passed.”

Marvel: “That’s so awesome! Can I come over?”

Aquaman: “Oh, okay? Sure?” *a little surprised he asked but eh whatever*

That was how Arthur spent the day showing Cap around the lighthouse. The man was a really good listener and was surprisingly very interested in listening to Arthur talk about how to use the light. You couldn’t even ask Arthur how they both ended up jumping off the railings of the lighthouse of dive into the water. You also couldn’t ask him how they ended up having a water fight, with the Atlantean calling for some sea creatures as back up. You also also couldn’t ask him how shocked a hotdog vendor was when he saw Captain Marvel and Aquaman, both of which who are supposed to be revered heroes, soaked, looking like wet dogs, asking for a couple of hotdogs after they nearly caused a tidal wave.

They got scolded by Batman a little while later for acting like children and almost causing the previously mentioned tidal wave. It was a little funny to see Batman scolding a man a solid two feet taller than him.

Soon after that whole incident, Marvel went to befriend Martian Manhunter next.

Marvel: *staring at J’onn while holding a box of cookies*

MM: *can hear him thinking about how to approach him and looks over to Marvel*

Marvel: *thinks a little too loudly and J’onn hears a nearly deafening “FRIEND”*

MM: *flinches and clutches his head* “Captain. Is something the matter.”

Marvel: “Oh uh…” *walks over and looks between the cookies and J’onn* “I was uh- wondering if you wanted to eat these with me.”

And that’s how J’onn spent the rest of the afternoon eating cookies with Marvel. J’onn had at first thought Marvel was quiet because he was something humans called awkward. But no, every now and then, when J’onn forgot that humans preferred to keep their thoughts private, he’d hear how happy Marvel was that he accepted. He’d also heard a couple other voices which was slightly concerning. He didn’t know if that was normal for humans or not.

Then, the next was Batman. Bruce honestly didn’t even know how they had started talking about this. All he knows is that they were talking about the team’s performance in the field, then that somehow transitioned into talking about superheroes in general, which then somehow led to fictional superheroes, which led to now:

Marvel: “Oh, you like Gray Ghost?”

Batman: “I was… a fan of him when I was a child.” *doesn’t know why he’s telling Marvel this*

Marvel: “Cool! Did you see the movies?”

From there on was a forty minute yapping session about Gray Ghost, his lore, the movies, the comics, the action figures, and so on.

Marvel: “I even had his comics as a kid too.”

Batman: “Really? Reprints or originals?”

Marvel: “I wanna say originals? What do you mean by reprints though?”

Batman: “Reprinting is when they take a comic, and remake it to look a little better, such as brighter colors or slightly tweaked dialogue, so they can sell it again.”

Marvel: “Oh. Then I’d say I probably have originals then.”

Batman: “Interesting. Those are collectors items now. They go for thousands.”

Marvel; “Really?!” *eyes nearly bug out of his skull* “Huh. I had no idea. Which ones did you have?”

Batman: “Mostly reprints. But I do have a couple originals on display.”

So yeah. The two were geeking out and stuff. Bruce honestly has literally no one to talk about this with so he’ll admit he was a little (a lot) happy.

We can’t forget the other JL heroes though.

Flash: “Like, he is so nice, and for what?”

GL: “I know right he let me ramble for like 45 minutes about planes! He was asking questions too!”

Supes: “And he’s always willing to help with anything. I didn’t even get to finish asking if he could cover my monitor shifts before he said yes.” *sounds slightly guiltily (he still feels bad for asking)*

In conclusion, Billy really wants to be friends with these guys, and his methods are definitely working.

[spicychickencows]

The television series is called ‘Tall Pines.’ It started last week.

In the first episode a small town police force are taken by surprise when they uncover a murdered child at the edge of the woods. They are taken all the more by surprise when a second, identical child is found, also dead, the next day. And another the next.

What begins as a standard police drama about a poor murdered child spins, all too quickly, into something else. Something larger and much more dangerous.

The lead actor is called Dean James. He’s traditionally handsome, though a little younger than normal for this kind of drama, he has his hair slicked back and maintains a charming affability throughout. He plays the role of an FBI agent, with a mysterious past, who enters the town of Tall Pines for the sole purpose of getting to the bottom of this mystery.

He is joined by Charity Dodgson as the proprietor of the inn in which he stays for the duration of the show. By Alexander Lovett as the local police chief. By Grant Snyder as a local businessman. By Robbie Doyle as a fellow patron of the inn. By Jane Coyle, Rose Bridges, David Wayne, and Tom Carter as teenagers caught up in all this mess. And by Lucy Capullo as the voice in his head.

Jennifer Lane was hooked from the first few minutes. She loved the theme music that eery slow guitar that played over the images of the town before anything had even happened.

Then it was time for the camp to open up again.

The autumn season. Less popular than summer, far fewer kids around, but work nonetheless. Jennifer barely managed to convince her co-counselor, Vickie Black, to put the show on. Vickie wanted to watch that live sketch show. The same live sketch show Jennifer’s parents will be watching about now. She doesn’t want to think about her parents.

To convince Vickie to put Tall Pines on Jennifer promised to clean the showers in the morning; work that was supposed to be Vickie’s responsibility. A promise she intends to back out of. She also talked a lot about how attractive David Wayne and Tom Carter are; she hopes she sounded convincing because she doesn’t find them attractive at all. Her sister made a comment during the twenty seconds she was actually in the same room as the rest of the family. That’s the only way Jennifer knows that the two boys could be considered attractive by girls her age.

The music starts.

‘Is this it?’

‘Shh!’ Jennifer lays on her front right in front of the TV, it only has a small screen after all, she pats the rug next to her, ‘come one.’

The police are in a room together. They are talking about the case. It all shot reverse shot pretty simple stuff. But something isn’t right. The camera isn’t pointing to the right place. The characters aren’t centred in the frame. What is centred in the frame? On the wall, something on the wall. It’s a fly.

Vickie yawns. ‘This better be good.’

‘Shh!’

Vickie rolls her eyes.

The camera follows close behind the police as they walk from the conference room down to the holding cells.

‘Found him this morning.’

‘Another one?’

‘An alive one.’

‘Who are these people?’ Vickie whispers.

‘Detective Brooks,’ Jennifer points, ‘and Agent Moore. The others don’t have names.’

Detective Brooks opens the door to the holding cell. The boy inside is identical to bodies from the first episode. Only he is alive. Jennifer says this as quick as she can. Detective Brooks ushers Agent Moore into the room. The two stand, with the door open behind them.

Agent Moore kneels to talk to the boy.

‘Do you know where you are?’

No answer.

‘You’re in Tall Pines, a little ways outside…’

The TV goes static.

‘Shit,’ Jennifer rushes up to hit the side of the TV with the flat of her hand. ‘No.’ She moves the aerial, slowly, until the signal comes back. ‘Stupid. Shit. What did we miss?’

Vickie shrugs.

‘Do you have a name?’

No answer.

‘Is there anyone you’d like to call. Anyone you’d like us to call for you?’

The boy looks up for the first time.

‘You swore?’

‘What?’ Jennifer is trying to pay attention.

‘You did. You said shit. Twice.’

‘So?’

‘Thought you were a good little church girl.’

‘Shut up.’

We cut away to a different scene. Three teenagers, each played by actors in the range of 22 to 27, two boys one girl, are stood behind the school. They are in uniforms. One of the boys is smoking.

‘Eve, Mark, James,’ Jennifer points to each.

James offers his cigarette to Eve, she refuses.

‘They’re bad for you.’

‘No they’re not.’ James takes another puff. ‘You’re such a prude.’

Mark laughs. ‘You guy want to go back to the roadhouse tonight.’

Eve rolls her eyes and groans. ‘My parents found my ID.’

‘Roadhouse never checks.’ James puts out his cigarette. ‘I think the owner wants to get in your pants.’

‘Gross.’ Eve shoves James. ‘He’s like fifty.’

‘Yeah. Probably hasn’t got any in years.’

There’s a voice from behind them. ‘Uhhm, excuse me.’

Vickie turns first. ‘Yeah?’ It’s one of the kids. Vickie thinks his name is Alfie but she is wrong. ‘What is it?’

‘I need to go to the toilet.’

‘Ricky can take you.’

‘Ricky’s asleep.’

‘Uggh.’

‘I’m not going anywhere tonight,’ Leah has entered the scene, ‘not with whatever is out there.’

‘Listen to her.’ James speaks with an arrogance only afforded teenage boys, his 24 year old actor doesn’t quite pull it off, ‘thinks there’s monsters in the woods. ‘Don’t worry Little Red Riding Hood I’ll be your woodsman.’ He gropes at her and Jennifer isn’t quite sure if it’s Leah flinching away from James or Jane Coyle flinching away from David Wayne.

‘C’mon.’

‘What?’ Jennifer is pulled back into the real world. Away from Tall Pines and back to the dingy camp cabin floor on which she is lying.

‘You know the rules,’ says Vickie, ‘two at a time.’

The toilet is a smaller wooden building a few yards away from the cabin. It is almost exactly equal distance between two cabins. In the summer season it serves both. In the autumn season only about half the cabins are in use anyway.

Vickie passes the boy, who’s name the wrongly believes to be Alfie, a roll of toilet roll ‘make sure you use it,’ and shuts the door. She keeps her flash light pointed at the gap in the door. She rocks on her feet as she waits.

‘Are you cold?’ says a shivering Jennifer.

‘Oh yeah.’

‘I’m missing the show.’

‘You’ll live.’

‘What if something important happens?’

‘Do you really think those boys are hot?’

‘What?’

‘I’ve never heard you talk about boys before. Ricky was all over you at initiation last year and you didn’t even say anything.’ Vickie shrugs. ‘I always thought you were a dyke.’

‘I’m not…’

‘Sorry,’ Vickie laughs a little, ‘church girl.’

‘I…’

‘I’m done.’

‘Wash your hands.’ Vickie idly points the flashlight over at the tap sticking out of the ground.

Agent Moore sits down in an armchair. ‘Mr Clark,’ he says, can I talk to your daughter alone for a moment?’

‘Of course. Of course.’ Mr Clark leaves the room.

‘Miss Clark.’

‘Leah.’

‘Leah.’ Agent Moore leans forward. ‘You know you can talk to us. If you need to. If you know anything you can talk to us. You can tell us.’

‘I don’t. I don’t know anything.’

‘What do you think we missed?’ Jennifer takes a blanket that Vickie is offering her, ‘thank you. DO you think she does know something?’

‘Why do you like this show?’

‘I don’t know. Please. I… If I have anything to say I’ll say it.’ The camera is focusing on a fly again. A fly on the wall.

Jennifer realises there is a slight buzzing in the under layers of the background music. ‘It’s doing something different. Something… I don’t know.’

Another scene. We are back at the inn. Charity Dodgson, as Norma Reed, is at the check in desk. She is cleaning. Doing an inventory of the keys. There is a fly on the wall. Norma finds a spare key to Agent Moore’s room she examines it for a while and notices what looks like a speck of blood on the end.

Commercial break.

‘Seriously,’ Vickie groans goes to change the channel, ‘we could be watching, like, anything else.’

‘No. No, I like this.’

‘Fine. But, seriously what is even happening in this show.’

‘I don’t know.’ She watches Vickie roll her eyes again. ‘Okay, okay, I get it, but, I like it, I want to know what’s happening.’

‘Why do they keep showing that fly so much?’

‘I don’t know yet. I want to find out.’ Jennifer stands, ‘please just, let me have this. You can choose what we watch every other night. Just. Please. Just this.’

‘Fine.’

The room has a checker board floor. It is, on all sides, surrounded by unbroken black curtains. There is TV in the middle of the room. A woman is styled as Pierrot and standing next to the TV. She is holding a red balloon.

Agent Moore is standing facing Pierrot.

‘Hello,’ says Pierrot.

‘Hello.’

‘You need to wake up.’ Pierrot lets go of the balloon but it stays in place. ‘You need to remember three things.’ Pierrot puts up three fingers on her now empty hand. ‘Do not trust the woodcutter.’ James’ face flashes on screen so quick it is blinding. ‘The ring must return to the lake.’ Leah takes a bottle of drink from the fridge, she is wearing a silver ring with an inlaid sapphire. ‘There is no Fly.’ The screen goes entirely black.

Norma ascends the stairs of the inn until she finds the room in which Agent Moore has been staying. She reacts to a smell. The sound of buzzing increases on the soundtrack. Norma opens the door and screams.

She keeps screaming as the camera moves slowly through the room. It is a mess, as though a fight has happened here. There is blood on the carpet. A gurgling sound can be heard just below the sound of Norma’s scream.

As the camera reaches the bed, it raises, and turns. On the bed is the body of Agent Moore. He is smiling a big toothy smile from ear to ear. His belly has been cut open. His guts are spilled over the bed.

The credits roll.

Visual Writing Prompt #396

[haveihitanerve]

Okay but hear me out- the batkids as actual Vampires. Not bruce, just the kids, and bruce providing for them. Because he just has the tastiest blood.

Little Dick toddling over to Bruce, tears in his eyes because he ate his bloody dinner too fast and hes still hungry and Bruce just sighing and sticking out his hand and Dick lights up and they watch a movie while dick is happily gnawing on Bruce’s thumb and sucking his blood. Big Dick complains very loudly about how hungry he is and Bruce will glower at him before finally giving in and throwing an arm around his eldests shoulders and Dick pecks his cheek with a sweet “thank you dad.” before sinking his teeth into Bruce’s arm. 

Little Jason would very politely come over and tug on his hand and Bruce would pick him up and let him bite his hand and drink, but Big Jason just pounces on Bruce from behind and sinks his teeth into Bruces shoulder/neck for blood. 

Little Tim slipping five dollar bills into Bruce’s hand just before chomping his thigh and Big Tim very casually stabbing a needle into Bruce’s leg, extracting blood and then putting it into his coffee and walking away. Sometimes, if he’s feeling nostalgic, he will curl up with his head on bruce’s lap and actually bite him for blood, for pure blood, but he likes his coffee bruce blood blend better

Little Cass never once asked bruce for blood because she was scared, but Bruce would just scoop her into his arms and offer her his already cut open shoulder until she was comfortable enough scaling him like a tree and drinking from his shoulder. Big Cass still doesn't ask for blood, she just lands on his shoulders and bites his bicep. 

Little Steph was a little vampire gremlin and any time she saw Bruce without clothes (since his children feed off of him Bruce wears very little, just a tank top and shorts and makes sure to shave as much as possible to provide ample biting space, but as Batman he still wears his full suit just easy to slip off certain parts so his kids can feed easily) she would suction onto him like a little affectionate leech and dig her little teeth into his back. Big Steph also likes his back and has much the same habits as little steph did. 

Little Babs wasn't too keen on blood, but sometimes Bruce would offer her his forearm while she was working and she would work and eat. Big Babs has no qualms about taking his blood, but has few chances, so he stops by her Oracle hideout sometimes and just holds out his arm for her to drink

Little Damian thought drinking blood from a human was beneath him. Until he saw Cass doing it and wanted to follow her footsteps, but he cant climb bruce as well as her, so he just sank his teeth into Bruce’s calf. Big Damian will wait until Bruce sits or lays down and props his feet up and will then enjoy his calf blood. 

Bruce Wayne who is covered, littered in bite scars of varying sizes, who was once knocked over by his three eldest sons because they had been on a mission away from him for a week and were hungry and before they even said hello just sank their teeth into his neck, hand and thigh. Bruce Wayne who’s majority of scars come from his children, not villains and who willingly offers up his neck to any one of his children if they seem hungry. 

Bruce Wayne who, as Batman, will peel his protective bat suit arm off because Dick was hungry on a stake out. 

Bruce Wayne who is not a vampire but his children all are and he’ll be damned if he deprives them their nutrients. 

(selina kyle who is also a vampire and also gets her blood from bruce but from his-)

[violent138]

I love the idea that Bruce takes the Batfam on hikes outside of Gotham, and puts up with the arguing over who goes in what car, packs everyone's favourite snacks, will race with the other car if enough passengers in his egg him on. Bruce generally stays ridicuously quiet while the kids jabber enough to alert everything living in the woods near them but will weigh in once the kids debate who's strong enough to wrestle a bear, chime in on unsolved hiker cases, build fires, and carry anyone that gets tired, all while sneaking awful pictures of them.

[megamindsupremacy]

love the idea that stan, pre-realisation, would just put any “my brother-“ thoughts that popped up into the ‘shermie’ category into his head

my brother… the genius … always won the spelling bee… we were so close… i learnt to fight because i was uh. protecting my…. (much??) older brother? damn was he a wimp or something

stan, calling shermie up post everything: do you happen to remember like. a flying dinosaur from our childhood or is this another ‘wrong brother’ situation

shermie, who was very much not there: what.

aksdjfhsd yeah!! also I imagine there being a ton of angst potential because Stan remembers ("remembers" my ass, he doesn't remember shit) himself and Shermie as being fairly close as kids, because everything involving "my brother" is conflated with Shermie, until the Mystery Incident got him kicked out. But Shermie wasn't super close with either of his brothers because of the age difference, and also because I hc him as not being home very often and getting the hell outta dodge as soon as he was old enough. So poor Stan has an imagined closer brotherly dynamic with Shermie, who isn't maintaining this dynamic into adulthood because to him Stan is his younger brother who dropped off the face of the earth (sad) at age 17, popped up a few times in newspapers to get arrested and/or scam people, and then dropped off the face of the earth again at 27.

[ima-ghost-art]

Valzhang Week! day 3: Traveling the world/ middle aged

Leo and Frank take their daughters out flying together (they are so girl dads lol)

the girls are Sophina 13 (flying with leo on festus) and Ellie (flying with frank) they come from this post i made ages ago lol thought it would be fun to add them!

(pls ignore i posted this a day late the colouring was a bitch and my week has been hectic xD day 4 should come later today!)

[imminent-danger-came]

something about mk brutally smashing his head against azures sword till it shattered. something about mei modeling her sword after azures (im insane)

I went ahead and gifed both scenes (which proves that I'm very clearly normal)

So, Mei shatters her family sword defending MK. She then models her sword after Azure's. MK later brutally smashes his head against Azure's sword, cracking it (and Azure) apart. Azure then uses that sword to stitch the universe together, losing his life in the process.

The first thing that comes to mind is the Curse's words, "Such pitiful creatures: cowardly, reckless, monstrosities; all doomed to play a roll in tearing this world apart! To cause nothing but chaos and destruction.", with 4x13 being titled "Rip and Tear" and Azure quite literally tearing the world apart. You trying to do what you think is right but that still leading to bad outcomes—to shattering and breaking and destruction.

Other bonus parallels/contrasts include:

Mei breaking her sword to defend MK, while Azure breaks his sword attacking MK

"But how am I supposed to protect everyone if I don't have my sword!" and then Azure uses his sword to save the entire world aka everyone.

Mei: "If you're not giving everything you have to protect the people you care about you are nothing!" Azure: "I would have done anything in my power to bring them back—but it wasn't in my power, it was in yours." (Using power for the people you care about) (Interesting to note however, Azure is fine with his friends as collateral ((love you 4x10 roar)) where as Mei will put a lot at risk for her friends ((she doesn't object when MK suggests going into the scroll even if it'll risk the curse being released)))

Mei: "What's the point of having power if you won't use it! [...] Inaction is careless! [...] Then maybe you don't deserve power!" Azure: "I did not sacrifice everything simply to be an idle deity! I will do what my predecessor did not!" (Aka those who deserve power are those who will use it)

Both were totally willing to sacrifice Wukong for their goals (Mei in 3x12 and Azure throughout s4, but especially in the special)

Mei: "Wukong knew the risks—that's the hard part of being a hero!" Azure: "Nothing is won without sacrifice!"

Jade Emperor Azure and Samadhi Fire Mei as containers for uncontrollable power (I talk about this one a lot)

Do we think "How could you lead us into this fight without a real plan!" applies to the Brotherhood's attack against heaven

They really did not need to have Mei model her sword after Azure's, so I wonder if this is building to an eventual "Mei V MK" fight (where Mei is most likely fighting MK to save MK) and Mei uses her sword to protect herself from one of the people she cares about.

I feel like there's more to the sword situation, but I can't put my finger on it.

[quietwingsinthesky]

combining little amelia pond in the tardis with the tardis family au and trying to figure out which members would be pro and against child endangerment.

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

RiAAU Sasha's complicated relationship with her adoptive parents, Percy and Braddock, stems from an awkward mixture of unconditional love, resentment over their inability to protect her from Grime in her childhood, and their fear of what she's become.

[head---ache]

Dude I actually have SO many discarded fankid designs like Emmie has gone by three different friend groups and even for the current lineup there have been some forgotten kiddos you guys actually have no idea how many fankids I've designed NSKXBSKXBKX

[fireandspiceland]

not to be hetavision posting but congrats to aph finland for getting to rail the living hell out of sweden all night. you know he will be extra submissive after his husband was robbed the win tonight, apologising over and over while finland takes him from behind and pulls his hair until it hurts.

[ltcommanderkathrynjaneway]

Happy early birthday! I hope you’ll have a great few days and get to celebrate with something fun 💕

Thank you! My local movie theater is doing a Studio Ghibli weekend, so I’m going to go see at least Howl’s Moving Castle. Other than that, I’m mostly going to be cleaning my apartment because my whole family is descending in two weeks for my retirement ceremony.

[dirt-str1der]

Yaoi has poisoned all of your fucking brains !!

[nanamimizz]

if i start thinking about the directional intent behind bluey episodes and how absolutely stellar they are i will never shut up and thats the problem