#wpw

[thewordypeach]

Milk

Milk (Cream)

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader word count: 3.3k warnings: 18+, NSFW!!!!, smut! smut! smut!, no use of y/n, unprotected p in v = creampie, fingering, slight orgasm count, oral fixation??, titty sucking (lactation kink), fingering, implied breeding kink?!? summary: Joel doesn’t have to worry about getting you pregnant because the damage is already done. author's note: i should be studying for my finals next week but joel miller sucking titties is obviously more important, and i just couldn't help myself! i just had to write it!!! the result? it's hot. maybe too hot - can you handle it? i know i couldn't. xoxo the wordy peach <3

“Only nine weeks left!” Ellie says excitedly, peering at your protruding stomach with wide eyes of wonderment. She can’t wait to meet her little sister or brother, and each week since announcing your pregnancy, Ellie crosses off a week in her little calendar. 

Fondly, you smile at her. She’s been your saving grace during this pregnancy - distracting you with every question possible. She even managed to get it out of you when you and Joel convinced the damn thing (“It was that night at the stables, wasn’t it?”)

“Nine weeks,” She repeats with a confident nod; she glances at you, a single eyebrow raised, “Have you looked at the list of names I gave you?”

You let out a chuckle, nodding, “Yes, Ellie - I look at it every night,”

Her eyes widen, “Every night?”

“Every damn night,” Joel grumbles as he walks into the room. He’s exhausted from the extra shifts he’s been putting in because he wants time off for the baby. With tired, bleary eyes, Joel looks at Ellie, “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

She glares at him, points directly at your belly, and speaks with conviction, “Well, technically, I am in health class, and if I have to learn about procreation, Joel, I want her to teach me,"

Exasperated, Joel sighs. He shakes his head with frustration, and briefly, you can see the hint of annoyance on his tired face. He looks at Ellie with his eyebrows knitted together - she knows better than to argue with him. She purses her lips into a thin line and begins gathering school supplies. Ellie ignores Joel and starts idly chatting about her day and her plans.

She’s looking forward to the new reading assignment and asking if you’ll help her later with something. You rub your belly and nod, “Of course, Ellie - you know where I’ll be,”

A flicker of concern mixed with panic crosses her face. She glances at you; you know she’s asking if you’ll really be here when she returns. Ellie confirms, a slight wavering in her voice, “You’ll be here, right?” 

You feel a pang of empathy for her. The world you live in is uncertain - even here, in Jackson, there’s no guarantee of safety. You understand her fear, and reassuringly, you tell her, “Yes, Ellie - I’ll be home all day,”

She nods, and her shoulder’s visibly relax at your confirmation. But before leaving, Ellie just has to turn to Joel and says, “She isn’t feeling good today, so don’t be a dick - or else I will know, and you’ll have to deal with me,” 

As Joel sips his water, Ellie shoots him a stern look. Despite what your partner likes to think, you both know Ellie is in charge. Her gaze holds a silent warning, and you stifle a chuckle, watching as she finally leaves the house. Once the door is closed, silence falls between you and Joel. It’s tense; his eyes penetrate you, noting your skin's paleness and its sickly sheen of sweat. Usually you’re glowing -

“What’s wrong?” Joel asks in that demanding tone of his. 

You sigh, shaking your head, “It’s nothing,”

“Babe,” Joel warns, and you hear him shuffling over before the chair next to you pulls out, and he’s sitting there. He places a hand on your thigh and repeats his question more gently this time. 

“I’m…” You think about the right words, carefully selecting them, “Uncomfortable,”

Confessing this to your partner is almost embarrassing. Maybe it’s his rough exterior that makes you feel like this. Joel, who is waiting patiently, peers at you. His eyes soften, and he looks at you with such tenderness. You’ve been missing these moments because he’s never home anymore. 

He presses, “C’mon, darlin'… tell me what’s wrong,”

Your cheeks flush pink, and after a minute or two, you admit: “My boobs hurt,”

Joel gives you an incredulous look, and his cheeks blush too. His gaze turns to your breasts - even he can’t deny how much they’ve grown in the past few weeks. Joel knows they’re swollen with milk for the incoming baby, but he doesn’t understand how uncomfortable you are. He probably never will because, biologically, he’s a man.

He watches as you reach up, adjusting your tits, groaning out a slew of complaints: “My nipples are so fucking sensitive and hard all the goddamn time! I feel like I’m in that stupid Austin Power movie with the fembots and their machine gun titties,” Joel knows the movie you are referring to, and he can’t help but chuckle and hearing this makes your eyes narrow at him. 

“Are you seriously fucking laughing at me, Joel?” Your voice is emotional, and you attempt to stand, but it’s useless. Your stupid round belly makes it impossible to do anything, and sadness floods your hormonal body. You whine, “I am so fat -”

Joel shakes his head, watching as your face goes through several emotions simultaneously. There’s not much he can do, but he does reassure you that you are not fat - “You are pregnant,”

“Yeah, and whose fault is that?” You grumble, arms crossing over your chest. You wince because you’re nipples feel like they’re on fire, and you feel like they’re about to burst at any second. You wiggle uncomfortably and pout at Joel. He’s thinking of ways to help and can only think of a single thing that might help but is hesitant about bringing it up. 

“What if…” He trails off, swallowing the dry lump growing in his throat, “What if I help… relieve some of that pressure?” 

Your eyebrows furrow together, confused. “How?” 

“Umm,” He glances around. He knows it’s just the two of you, but he wants to make sure because he’s about to suggest something crazy. His voice drops an octave, suggesting, “I can milk you,”

Your jaw slacks, and you hiss, “Like a cow?”

“N-no!” Joel sputters, hands waving aimlessly around, but it dawns on him it’s exactly like that, and sheepishly, he says: “Okay, yeah… it might be similar to that,” 

“Joel,” Your voice wavers, hot tears swell in your eyes. You feel stupid! And your emotions won’t stop. You know he’s just trying to help, but dammit! Joel just called you a cow - “I can’t believe you think I’m a cow,” 

Joel gives you an apologetic look. He’s sympathetic to your situation; he knows you don’t mean to be this hormonal, and he knows it’s his child doing this to you. He places a hand on your belly and gently rubs the fabric of his stretched-out shirt (the only one that fits!). He leans over, “Darlin’… you’re not a cow. You’re growing a baby. And I think, from what I read, that your milk ducts need to be expressed,”

“What does that mean? Expressed? Are you going to suck the milk out, Joel?” 

Joel's cheeks redden, and the sultry tone in your voice surprises him. He thinks he has imagined it, but then, Joel sees how your eyes darken into a lustful frequency. He reads your message loud and clear. 

Without hesitation, Joel captures your jaw between his rough fingers and kisses you. It’s sweet. Gentle. Exactly what you need to forget your frustration with him. But of course, you want more. You deepen the kiss, swiping your tongue across Joel’s lower lip and dipping your tongue into his mouth. Ever so slightly, he groans. He loves it when your forward. 

You’re leaning over, as far as you can with your belly, and place your hands onto Joel’s jean-clad thighs. You must hold onto something for balance because your stupid belly messes with your center of gravity. You have yet to get used to it. You’re trying to climb into Joel’s lap, but it’s useless. You’re struggling to lift your body into his, and you pull back, huffing in frustration. 

“This stupid belly!” You mutter while rubbing it. Joel finds your annoyance cute, and despite his best effort, Joel’s cock is already stirring inside his pants. It’s been a while since you two had sex, and today is the day that he’s going to fuck you after weeks of hiatus. 

“Babe, it’s not stupid,” Joel coos and helps you stand. Your belly knocks into his, and it makes him smile. His teeth flash, and the skin by his eyes crinkles with delight. He can’t believe he’s going to be a father again. He can’t wait to meet his little one. But, for now, Joel must give you some relief because it is his fault that you’re in this position. He’s the one who kept pumping his seed into your womb. 

Joel knew the consequences of not using a condom, and here he is - reaping what he sowed. He begins leading you to the bedroom, insisting, “Let me take care of you,” 

“We shouldn’t - I have to meet Maria in an hour, and it’ll take me at least 45 minutes to waddle there,” 

Joel ignores you, pulling your body into the room and shutting the door swiftly behind you. He doesn’t need prying eyes on what he’s about to do. Joel starts by showering your jaw and neck with kisses, his fingers playing with the bottom hem of his shirt before tugging it off. He nearly gasps from seeing your breasts, practically spilling out of the tiny bra that once fit your tits so perfectly. 

You feel Joel devouring your body, noting how his hungry eyes stare at your chest. You mutter, “They’re massive, aren’t they?” 

“They’re perfect, babe,” Joel nods and wraps an arm around your body. With a single finger, he unlatches your bra, and your tits spring free as the garment falls to the ground. A groan of surprise escapes Joel’s throat, and his hard cock strains against his zipper. He marvels at your milky skin, strewn with veins and stretch marks. He reaches and cups them, his fingers ghosting over your nipples, which are a deeper colour than before. Even in these short weeks, your body has made changes he wasn’t even aware of. 

You hiss, “Joel,” but your eyes close because the relief of him holding your breasts has taken the strain off your back. He blows a soft gust at your left side and watches as your face twists into discomfort. 

“Shit, darlin’… are they really that sensitive?” 

You whimper, “Yeah - they’re that sensitive,” 

“If it hurts, tell me to stop,” Joel instructs before he lowers his mouth to your breast. He kisses the skin, and you melt beneath the attention. When Joel swipes his tongue across the rock-hard nipple, you bite back the yelp that threatens to come out and instead focus on how Joel gingerly kneads the pillowy flesh that drapes from your chest. He’s listening to you, waiting for you to tell him to stop. But you don’t. You’re bearing the torment he's putting you through because you know it will feel good at some point. And eventually, it does. 

It’s undeniable: Joel’s hands on your breasts feel amazing, and his warm mouth working on your right nipple is starting to create wetness between your thighs. As his fingers continue, you notice a new sensation in your breast that makes you squirm. At that moment, you feel a release as something emerges from your nipple and shoots into Joel’s mouth. You gasp and watch as he finally yields, pulling away from your body. You see the slightest evidence of white dew on his lower lip, and when you look down at your nipple, it's leaking with the same substance. You are shocked, unsure of what to do. 

“Does that feel better, darlin’?” Joel hums. Hastily, you nod and swallow dryly. It does feel better, but you need more relief. 

You gaze at Joel, eyelids cutely fluttering at him. You sheepishly ask, “What about the other side?” 

Joel just smiles and helps you onto the bed. He places two extra pillows behind your back, ensuring you’re comfy before he settles down. He raises his head again, latching his mouth onto your other breast. Once more, the feeling is overwhelming. Almost too much to bear. You grit through the discomfort, relenting to the sensation of Joel’s mouth and hand as he works. Soon enough, another squirt of hidden cream comes forth. 

It has you moaning this time, and you bask in the momentary relief. And instead of leaving your breast unattended, your hands thread through Joel’s dishevelled hair, and you keep him there. Breathlessly, you demand, “Don’t stop,” He listens and continues to work your breasts until your moans are frantic and your thighs continuously flex. Your arousal has grown to great heights, and an aching desire radiates in your core for the first time in a long time. 

You reach down, fingers dipping into your sweatpants - again, it’s the only thing that fits - and notice how soaked your panties are. Of course, these days, it's a common occurrence. Pregnancy has your body changing in ways you didn’t even consider. Some of them are shocking, and some of them are annoying. Since the first trimester, the idea of sex repulses you. And it made you feel guilty because you live to please Joel. But your lovely partner doesn’t mind; he’s just been taking longer showers, which has been pissing Ellie off because there’s often no hot water left for her - 

Joel notices your hand sliding into your pants and wants some of that action too. He takes one hand and places it on top of yours. Sharply, you inhale. You love how Joel is guiding your hand to his will. With his skillful touch, it doesn’t take long to reach the peak, turning you into a groaning mess as waves of pleasure swell and roll across your body. You notice how your belly quivers with delight too.

As you descend from the peak, you let Joel go. He lifts his head and wipes his milk-laced mouth before kissing you on the lips. You taste yourself. It’s sweet and creamy, reminding you of something you can’t quite place. As Joel’s tongue explores your mouth, you relish the feeling because it’s been too long. You missed his passion, and you missed him ravishing your body. 

“Joel, I need you,” You whine through kisses as your hands wander up and down his back, attempting to undress him. He moves, and his shirt and pants are on the ground within seconds. With no underwear in sight, your eyes lock onto his dick, hanging freely. The presence of it never fails to make you drool. 

Despite his quick movements to undress, Joel takes a slower approach with you and leisurely removes your sweatpants. His hands work with delicate precision, especially when he’s around your stomach. It’s incredibly frustrating for you, and you’re huffing in annoyance. It’s never been like this before. He’s always so rough, taking on a lusty savageness, and Joel would be inside by now. However, he’s still working off your panties. 

“Joel,” You whimper. Your body vibrates with anticipation, and you don’t know how much more you can take. You need his cock, and you don’t care if something goes wrong. Months of built-up horniness are making you reckless. You beg, “Please just fuck me already,” 

His eyes snap to yours. They’re dark with desire. As he places his body between your thighs, he murmurs, “I don’t want to hurt you or the baby,” Joel anticipates your reply - stupid belly - and hushes you before it can come out: “It’s not stupid - it’s love,”

“Love?” You whisper, confused. It’s not common, and Joel has only used it once. Morning sickness took over, and you were throwing up for weeks. Ellie and Joel thought you were dying. And, of course, for a little while, you believed them. It wasn’t until Maria asked when your last period did you clue in. And when you relayed that message to Joel, his grumpy face went unusually slack before joy took over. He swept you into his arms, kissed you, and said: 

“I love you,” He repeats while wrapping a hand around his cock, lowering it to your glistening, swollen exterior. Expertly, he glides the crown of his cock up and down, watching as your juices coat it. You moan because your pussy is so unbelievably sensitive that another climax is blooming in your core. Joel finds himself commenting: “Goddamn… Your cunt is soaking wet,”

You squirm, hips wiggling as you spread your thighs further apart. You hate begging for it, but your cunt yearns for fulfillment. “Please!”

Joel presses his big, round tip against your tight entrance. You bite your lower lip, eyes gazing down at the penetration point, but your belly is in the way. You can’t see what’s happening but don’t have to because you suddenly feel his cock pushing through. At first, your velvet channel is resistant, but that doesn’t deter Joel.

As your walls grip his cock, coating it in a creamy warmth, Joel tosses his head back and sighs with satisfaction. It’s been so long. His hand has nothing on your pussy. Joel delves his cock as deep as possible, and you can feel it practically bulging inside your stomach. And when Joel places his hands on either side of your protruding belly, your impending orgasm rips through.

“Mmm, cumming already,” Your pussy convulses and clenches as a powerful wave of immeasurable pleasure crashes. White, hot flashes across your vision, sweeping you into a moment of intensity. Joel admires as your body undulates beneath him, studying as your belly ripples. He knows the pregnancy is the reason for your quick orgasms, and he wonders how many he can get out before he cums. 

With a mission in mind, Joel lets you come back down before he starts to rock his hips back and forth. It doesn’t take long until you’re trembling with a third orgasm. You cry out, hands gripping the sheets below. You barely have time to catch your breath before Joel ups his pace, and he excitedly speers your pussy with youthful energy. 

Hypnotically, Joel watches as your tits bounce with each thrust, and soon enough, his fingers are back on them. He squeezes and kneads until the milk sprays out with a such force that it sprinkles across your chest and coats his hands. A feral growl escapes from your mouth, “Joel,” 

Your vision swirls, and your body shivers with ecstasy as a fourth orgasm rolls through. You gasp, sucking in as much air as you can. You look at Joel, marveling at his skin's sheer layer of sweat. He has a look of concentration on his face, and you know he must be close. You encourage him to cum, repeatedly. 

But before he can, a fifth and final climax hits your body. It has you swearing and calling Joel names, “You fucking bastard,” as your pussy floods and swells around his cock. By this point, there’s a growing puddle beneath your ass, and Joel’s cock is exploring your molten wetness with ease. His flesh claps against yours and echos across the room. His groans are uncontrollable now, and he screws his eyes shut, trying to hold back. 

The effort is futile, and he slams into your body, forgetting about being gentle. A stern look of arousal etches upon his face, and a deep, low guttural grunt spills from his lips. He doesn’t have a chance to warn you because his cock surges with a thick, plentiful rope of his cum, and floods your cunt with a warm stickiness. His hands are back and resting against your belly. Joel juts his hips forward, pushing a second load of cum deep into your cunt. He doesn’t have to worry about getting you pregnant because the damage is already done.

[hipstersoulgushers]

yea

[hipstersoulgushers-art]

how did we get here

[nathsketch]

I'm four days late for World Princess Week, but still, I wanted to share some of my favorite ladies (and not all necessarily princesses 😅), as they don't often receive the appreciation they deserve ♥️

Kida, Merida, and Meg, my beloveds! 💎🏹🏺

Special mention to poor Milo 😂

Happy Thursday! 👑

Find me here: Instagram | Website & Portfolio

[gloria-viva-la-gloria]

he's so fucking pretty

[inartchive]

[wordsfromthedying]

“I have questions”

On the edge of slumber, a voice came to me. “I have questions” it boomed. And with its words, it took the room in which I lay transported to lay alone; outside the windows of my room now expanded the vast stars. The endlessness outside. As I got up, hinging at the waist, and pulling my legs up to my reside close to my chest. Sitting at my bed’s end was a large figure, one who had to duck their head slightly to fit in the room, which now felt so small. Their features, hard to make out, either encased in shadow or un-viewable by my eye. Hair seeming to be dreaded with an assortment of charmed additions. Form muscular, certainly larger than the human form would permit. I smiled as the depictions of the ghost of Christmas present came to mind—a comparison the figure in front of me surely wouldn’t care for. 

“Sure,” I responded simply. My dreams often weren't this real; they always felt like I was at a distance from being an active participant, worlds away, but the fear of any reality of the situation didn’t concern me. I was interested. A godly figure had questions. And though it may be some egotistical amalgamation of mine, it was better work than I’d seen my mind capable of before.

The shadowed figure seemed surprised at my willingness. We sat for a moment. I kept my eyes looking up at them, worrying about their neck in that position.

“I’ll be just fine, but thank you for your concern. And you are not the first to make the comparison.” The voice broke through my thoughts.

My eyes became alight. How fun.

“As much as I enjoy, I’d prefer we keep the conversation out here.” Clearing my mind of any thoughts in an attempt to force a thought underived from my own. We stayed blinking, the air somehow beautifully crisp in these walls. 

“Why are you not concerned?” the voice asked, as it weaved through the crisp morning-like air between us. “Concerned about what?” I respond, the words far less elegantly reaching their ear. “Death, my dear, how are you so unconcerned by your eventual fate?” With clarity, I understood, and pondered. The figure in front of me seemed to need a response, as if I were not the only one they asked. As if I were only a stop on this journey of a question. A powerful being, one that a human like me may turn to for questions that burden their souls, asks humans instead. I looked out at the window beside me, and the endless dotted lights and colors in the space around me as I pondered the question. Before concluding, I looked up at the figure above. “Can we?”, I asked while gesturing out the window. A nod was offered. With that, I opened the window beside me, and as my frame made its way out the window, I began to float, leaving the weighted pressure of the room in exchange for the crisp space all around. Once out, the roof of my room floated off as the figure in full form rose, and came to glide beside me, as I was mesmerized by what was around. As we ventured through the great unknown, past beauties unimaginable, I pondered. This didn’t seem to be a routine check-in; the figure beside me wanted answers. Needed them.

“I suppose when I was young, not existing didn’t sound so bad; returning to this seemed a better fate for the atoms of me than me.” Their disappointment in my response was apparent. A disappointment I hoped to break. “But, even now as life has become more precious, I accept my fate,” I spoke as we continued seemingly indiscernibly fast amongst the vast beyond, the bright, certainly eye-singeing stars, and the clouds of color and shape, but no resistance or air to blow our hair behind us. We simply floated as if underwater. The space open to be explored. “I have no claim over death, but even if I did I don’t feel I’d enjoy it much. Death is something so many are certain they want power over, but I expect there is a line. A point at which that endless time turns to a sorrowful fate. I’d prefer to miss over growing board.”

“Apathy sullies all souls, given time” Their voice reverberated within me.

I simply nodded in agreement. “Are you sullied?”, I inquired, turning to look at the very humanoid figure beside me, the one who no longer seemed so grand. They simply looked at me, their eyes distancing, before nodding and looking away. I had many questions for this being, which I began to feel sorrowful for. But I wanted to be cautious, my curiosity not outwaying their potential discomfort. “You may ask” it spoke, continuing to look ahead. Away from my eye. In turn, I nodded looking at them before looking ahead. 

“I have questions”

[hebblog]

Having some big names from WWE/TNA make up most of the matches at a little local show in my city was/is rad as fuck!

[indirectcomedian]

silly time denied

[g0ttal0ve101]

Lucky

Note: coming back with another caria post haha 😻 it’s not sad at all haha 😻 tw: suicide, self-harm.

████████████████████

Carl hated himself. While this might seem to be somewhat of an over-exaggeration to outsiders, it isn’t. Carl truly and utterly hated every aspect of his character. He hated the way his face reflected in the mirror, he hated the way his hair was such a bright shade of red, he hated the way his voice sounded when he spoke and laughed, he hated the way his ribs stuck out, he hated the way his bony knees were always covered in scrapes, but most of all — He hated the way he hated himself. No matter how hard he tried to act confident, no matter how much he tried to boost his ego, the drug never lasted.

That’s why whenever he got drunk, he would put a blade to his wrists and pray that he’d have the guts to do it. That’s why he’d cry whenever he woke up and realized how severe his hangover was, but also that he was still breathing in a world where he surely didn’t belong. Oh, Carl hated himself. But he did love one major piece of his life. (Perhaps it was the reason he woke up in the morning?)

Mia Jacobs. Golden hair that brushed against her back, adoring eyes that lingered on his face for a few moments more than expected, a tender voice to keep his self-hatred from controlling him, and a wonderful, wonderful smile. Whenever Carl thought about her, his heart raced. It was almost childish how anxious he grew when she was around. And it was surely childish that he had made her the sun, moon, and stars of her life. Without her, there would be nothing. Carl liked it that way.

So once he got drunk that night and put a blade against his frail skin, he thought about her. It wouldn’t be hard to end it right then and there. Sure, it’d hurt like hell and he might even be too cowardly to finish it off, but his skin was thin enough that he could slice it clean. Why didn’t he then? Why couldn’t he move? Well, it was simple — He couldn’t bear to let her go.

The knife clattered to the floor and for a moment, he grew frightened that it might have been a bit too loud for his older brother’s liking. Nevertheless, he was too drunk to linger on the thought for too long, grabbing his phone and seeing stars spiraling on the screen.

Mia’s number was always on the top of his list. He clicked it without hesitation and curled up on his bed, listening to the sound of the device ringing over and over. It felt like hours before he finally heard a signal being picked up.

“What’s up, baby?” Her voice finally peaked through the fuzziness of the static, bringing a bright smile to his face instantaneously.

“Hiiii.”

“Haha, hi? How drunk are you?”

“I’m gonna kill myself, Mia.”

There was silence for a moment. Then suddenly, the pleasant tone in her voice dropped into a very solemn one. “…Don’t fuck around like that.”

Too intoxicated to realize how horribly awful this was to do to his girlfriend, Carl could only laugh. “I’m nottt. I have the knife right here and I’m gonna slit my wrists and fucking die, hahah! I’m gonna fucking do it! But, but, buttttt, I wanna tell you that I love you and that you’re the best girlfriend everrr!”

And that was enough to make Mia grab her keys and head for the door. Without bringing much thought to the fact that he heard her car engine start running, Carl continued with ramblings as if nothing was wrong at all.

“Miaaa? Miaaa…”

“What is it, baby?”

“Mffmh…I love you, Mia. More than anything ever, hmgh…existed. You’re a good person, no matter what you say. If you wasn’t, erm, you wouldn’t be dating someone like meee…y’know? And if you wasn’t a good girl, you…ugh…you wouldn’t be so nice to me. I can’t even know what it feels like to date me, y’know, and it scares me when I don’t know that when you…mmh, yeah.” Carl bubbled out without reconsidering even a single word he sang. It was funny to him at first but whenever he received radio silence as an answer, he grew increasingly more sentimental. “Mia. Mia, I…I really do love you, Mia.”

Without another second to waste, Mia’s voice broke through his whimpers. “Carl, please promise me that you’re gonna be okay when I get there.”

Tears rolled down his face. If she was on her way there, she’d surely see how much he cut himself and simply become disappointed. Her eyes would bleed with disapproval and disgust as she helped him clean up, almost as if she hated his very being for acting this way. She’d think he was seeking attention, she’d think he was weak — All of these scenarios piled inside of Carl’s head until he couldn’t take it anymore.

Practically stumbling off the bed, he began searching through his drawers to start the ‘layering process.’ One shirt after another piling and securing the wounds underneath would hide them away from his loving girlfriend. He wouldn’t have to hear her disappointed voice. He wouldn’t have to look weak.

“Carl?”

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I’m not mad. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

“…Miaaa, I’m so fucking dumb…!” His sobs lingered for a while longer before he curled up in a ball.

“How many times did you cut yourself, Carl?”

That question alone spoke volumes to him. She was already disappointed with him. There was no saving it. Dropping the shirt he was pulling over his head, Carl decided to remain bare-chested until she showed up. There was no point in hiding anyway.

Having a feeling he wouldn’t answer any time soon, Mia sprung into action. “Okay, okay, just listen to me. Are you listening?”

“Yeah…”

“Go to the bathroom and put your arms underwater. I’m gonna be there in a minute, just go make sure you’re in there, okay?”

As he usually did, Carl obeyed her every word. He held his bleeding forearm tightly, stumbling out of his room while holding the phone to his ear clumsily. All he could hear was the sound of a car moving. It was sort of funny when he thought about how fast she must be going for a stupid thing like this. Because that’s what this all was — Stupid. Carl should’ve just got it over with and left Mia alone instead of worrying her so much.

Blood sprayed everywhere whenever he put his arm under the facet. The liquid began having a red hue whenever it hit the bottom of the sink, building up into a gross mess of his own mistakes. The call was still ongoing, however, neither of them spoke. That was until Carl started whining and freaking Mia out again.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m pulling in the driveway now, alright? Is the key still under your front doormat?”

Carl hummed and wiped the tears from his face, trying his hardest not to break down again. “Yes…yes, please d-don’t be mad…”

There was no time for anger. Entering the Mason family household and immediately rushing into the upstairs bathroom, Mia could honestly care less about being caught. Not that she would anyway - She’d snuck in many times before this and got away with it. She noticed the bathroom door was cracked open a bit when approaching it, pushing the wooden structure open to reveal Carl practically on the verge of passing out while trying to keep his wound under the water. Mia instantly hoisted him up by his armpits and steadied his balance.

For some odd reason, Carl was confused as to what was going on. “Miaaa…why’re you…?”

Brushing his hair back from his soaking face, Mia rested her free fingers on the open wound. Her boyfriend hissed in pain. “Shit, that’s deep.” She muttered under her breath, pulling him away from the sink to get the medical kit in the cabinet below.

“Don’t be maaad…! Mia, please…I’m sorry…” Carl hiccuped as he stumbled backward, nearly falling into the tub.

“I’m not mad at all. Just stay still and let me wrap you up.”

And that’s exactly what she did. Taking the cloth bandages and wrapping them around his forearm loosely, she ended up being able to keep the blood from seeping out. Carl simply watched her expressions as she went, his hair glued to his drenched face while trying to maintain a calm demeanor. It hurt whenever she touched it. Carl sort of liked the feeling.

Unable to filter his words due to the amount of alcohol he consumed, Carl leaned back on the toilet with a ring of raspy laughter. “How deep is it, hahaaa…? I really tried to do it this time, hehehe. Everything’s spinning and shaking.”

Mia huffed playfully to ensure he wouldn’t get the impression she was genuinely angered. “You’re drunk outta your mind, dumbass. That’s why you feel lightheaded…hopefully. I don’t think you bled out that much.”

Carl leaned into her embrace — At least he thought he did. In reality, his face plummeted into her chest harshly, and started rambling the same old script. “I love you, baby. I loooooove you. I’m sorry I was…mfgh…calling you.”

With a decrease in intensity, she gave him a sturdy pat on the back. His skinny figure still shook up like a bell. He giggled from the sensation of her rough hands against his smooth skin.

“Mmh…you wanna fuck meee?”

“Uh, no? You’re so wasted right now I don’t even think you can hear what I’m saying.” Mia snapped her fingers in his face, only to prove her point further when he stared back bewildered. “How are you even in the mood?”

Again, his filter was completely discarded from the words spewing from his mouth. “‘Cause I’m sorry…and ‘causeee…it’s all I’m good at.”

“What did you just say?” Mia asked sternly. Her tone sent waves of fear through his body, although he wasn’t sure what it was that scared him. The glint in her eyes made him want to hide away in shame; And yet, they made him feel good at the same time because they were locked on him. “Say it again. C’mon, I couldn’t hear you.”

Carl blushed heavily. Whenever she spoke to him like that he couldn’t help but get flustered. Even though he was drunk out of his damn mind, he knew better than to say it again. Instead, he sheepishly turned away. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Yeah, I thought so. You need to stop talking like that before I…” Her voice died when she realized how it sounded. She had to be gentle with him. Especially whenever he was in a state of mind like this. “Just stop it, okay? I wouldn’t let anyone talk to you like that, so why would I wanna hear it coming from your own mouth?”

Those words stung like a bitch. There was nothing he could say that would justify himself or his behavior because she was right. No one else in the world could say anything bad about him without facing the wrath of Mia, so why should he get away with it? He might as well get the shit beat out of him just like she did to the other ones for speaking down on him.

Lowering his head, he looked like a sick puppy out in the rain. “…You’re right. I’m sorry.”

There was silence for a moment. Mia grabbed his hands and turned them over, gazing at the bandages that she tied around his forearms. It only embarrassed him more. He pulled away and tried to stand up on his own, only to topple over into the bathtub with a harsh blow.

“Holy shit! Are you okay?!”

Laughter exploded from his throat. And for a second, she had totally forgotten how much depth his depression had impacted him. He looked like an ordinary boy, drunk, carefree, and having fun during his youth. No one would be able to see just how much he hated himself, just how much he wanted to die, and just how much he hurt himself to ease the pain of existing. In that sense, his laughter brought her bittersweet joy.

“C’mon, babe. Get outta there.” She pulled him out of the tub and into her arms as if he were a sack of potatoes. She didn’t even break a sweat. It was almost embarrassing for him — Almost. He thought it was more hot than embarrassing.

“Mmm…Mia…”

“What?”

Smiling like an idiot, he buried his face into the crook of her neck. With a muffled voice, he began listing off the reasons he loved her so dearly. “You make me laughhh, you make me smileee, you don’t make me…mmffh…saaaad, you have a nice vooooice, aaaand…” Lifting his face inches away from hers, a genuine smile rested on his lips. “You take care of me.”

Blush erupted on her face. She didn’t like to display herself whenever she was flustered, but she knew he would be too drunk to remember any of this anyway. So, plopping him onto his mattress where he belonged on a Friday night, she combed the hair out of her face and sighed softly.

“I take care of you all right.” Mia grabbed his head and shook it around as she always did. She was more gentle knowing how intoxicated he was. “It’s only fair since you take care of me, y’know?”

Carl grabbed her hand when hearing this, examining the scrapes and cuts she received on her knuckles from the constant fights she found herself in. Placing his lips on them, he murmured out what he was thinking. “…‘Cause I love you.”

“Yeah. ‘Cause you love me.” Mia repeated, unable to contain the heat from coursing through her body. She was never the lovey-dovey type — Couples like that pissed her off. But considering how drunk he was and the fact he wouldn’t remember any of it anyway, she continued to console his worries. “And I love you too.”

On the brink of passing out, Carl’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment or two before they glimmered up into hers. “Mfmm…you wanna be my girlfriend?”

“I am your girlfriend, dumbass.”

“Ohh, yeaaah! Wow. I’m so luckyyy…”

Mia scoffed. It wasn’t his fault that he was so blind to the truth. She hadn’t told him what occurs when he’s not around — How many skulls she bashed in, how many screams rang through her ears, how much blood stained her clothes; He had absolutely no clue of that reality. She only showed him what he wanted to see, a girl who would cater to him and love him for the weak soul that he was. That’s all that really matters; What’s on the outside.

Batting her eyelashes and pulling his head onto her thighs, she continued to caress his curls gently. “Yeah? You think so?”

With that, the mood lightened up greatly and allowed Carl to ramble onward. “Maaaan, I’m sooo stoked…you’re my girlfrienddd…! I must have a big dickkk…”

Blunt was the best way to be. Choking on her own laughter, Mia couldn’t help but put a hand up to her mouth and try to contain it. Carl, on the other hand, was so serious he appeared to be petrified. It was way past his bedtime, that’s for sure.

“Last time I checked, you wanted it to be three inches longer.”

“Mhm. Three inches to reach twelve.”

“Carl…you do not have a nine-inch dick.”

“Yeah-huh. Check it.”

“I have many times.”

Carl peered into his boxers as if he were a kid on Christmas morning, trying to measure his length with an eye examination. Telling by the fact his vision was blurry and swaying, he could hardly see the contents. Scratching his head and pondering the question, he bit his lip a little. Mia thought it was adorable whenever he made faces like that.

With a groan, he held his head. Then, in the most solemn and dramatic tone ever laced in his voice, he briefly explained the misconception. “Someone stole it.”

His girlfriend was on the verge of tears by the time he threw a pillow at her to make her stop laughing so profusely. “Okay, okay, that’s my bad. I’ll give it back to you in the morning, okay?”

“You took my dick?!” Carl cried, flopping on the bed as if he fainted on the spot. “Aaah, I’m scaaared! What if I gotta go pee during the night?! What thennn?” Suddenly accepting it without another second of doubt, his voice softened. “Mfmm…it’s okay. You can have it.”

Curling his knees into his chest, Carl finally closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep with his head still planted in her lap and her fingers still in his hair. She sighed softly at the sight. Even though he thought of himself as lucky, she knew all too well it was her who had the four-leaf clover in her hands.

[thewordypeach]

Cream

Cream (Milk)

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader word count: 2.9k warnings: 18+, NSFW!!!!, smut! smut! smut!, no use of y/n, unprotected p in v = creampie, oral, titty sucking and titty fucking, (lactation kink), implied breeding kink, squirting, etc. summary: Joel needs his thirst quenched, and only one thing in this world can do it - author's note: ummm … so this sequel had me questioning my life choices. like i do not know what possessed me to take it this far lol so you better blow it up like you did with ‘Milk’ 🤭 anyways, i hope you like it <3 xoxo the wordy peach

It begins with: “You’ll never guess what they’re playing at movie night,” 

You look at Joel, a single eyebrow raised. Joel wolfishly grins, his brown eyes sparkling, “Austin Powers and the Spy Who Shagged Me,” 

He watches as your eyebrows knit together in confusion. Joel can’t believe you don’t remember the conversation from last week, the one that had you confessing to him that you felt like one of those fembots from the aforementioned movie. He steps closer, head dipping to your ear, whispering: “Machine gun titties,” 

That’s all it takes for you to remember. And it has your cheeks flushing pink. Sheepishly, you smile at him. But, of course, the cock block herself pipes up: “The spy who what?”

Ellie, you spunky little shithead. You love her to death. You never want her to grow up. But lately, she’s been ruining your alone time with Joel. You know she just wants to be a part of the family, and she is. It never even crossed your mind to think otherwise. She’s the daughter you never had. Sometimes you wish she’d just go and make friends that aren’t you or Joel. 

You look at Joel, waiting for him to answer. But Joel is expectantly gazing at you. A playful smirk ghosts across his lips. He thinks it’s your duty to explain the birds, the bees, and everything between them to Ellie. Of course, she knows most of it. But she questions absolutely everything. Just yesterday, you had the unfortunate experience of explaining anal to her; Joel walked out of the house when she asked and didn’t return until later. 

You poke a finger into Joel’s chest, hissing at him, “It’s your turn,” 

His face goes slack before he gives you a sullen look. He pouts those luscious lips of his, “But darlin'….” 

“Don't darlin' me, mister. You owe me for yesterday,” 

Joel continues to pout but eventually relents. He turns to Ellie with a face void of any emotion: “It’s a classic movie from the 2000s,” 

“Yeah, but what does shagged mean?” Ellie asks. Her eyes look between you and Joel, waiting for an answer. Joel grows uncomfortable. He’s never been one to talk about this kind of stuff. 

“Yeah, Joel. What does shagged mean?” You ask. 

“It- it… it means…” Joel stutters and stumbles over the words. His face is turning pink. He looks flustered as he searches for the right thing to say. You’re enjoying him floundering around. In one great, big breath, Joel spills out: “It’s a British slang term for intercourse,” 

Ellie blinks at him several times as she repeats what Joel just said to her. She starts chuckling, “Shagged means sex?!” Ellie turns into a mess of laughter. She’s clutching her sides. It’s not that funny. But you like watching her have fun. It brings back the innocence and reminds you of childhood. You were young when the movie came out, and the world was ravaged by fungus a few years after. So you cherish this moment of hilarity. You rub your tummy and smile at how much fun you will have raising this new baby with Joel and Ellie -

You don’t make it to movie night because you’re busy with the nursery, and the thought of walking all the way to town hall makes you cringe. You don’t like going anywhere unless it is essential. You make Joel and Ellie do everything for you. There are still some things you do yourself.

You insist Joel and Ellie go. Ellie doesn’t fight it (she’s so excited to watch a piece of history), but Joel grumbles about it. He wants to stay and help. By helping, Joel means he wants to milk you. He can’t stop helping you, and it’s the only thing on his mind - Joel swears he even dreams about it now. However, there hasn’t been a single moment for him to help you. Tommy has Joel doing everything and anything, and between his brother and Ellie, Joel hasn’t had time for his new hobby. 

So, after he drops Ellie off at the movie (making sure that she is settled and making sure that Tommy will bring her home after), Joel leaves and makes his way back to you. He wants to spend every free minute with you, but more importantly, this is the perfect opportunity to do what he’s been dreaming of without any interruptions. Joel needs his thirst quenched, and only one thing in this world can do it -

You hear him before you see him, and then you feel him. His arms wrap around your body, and he presses his chest into your back. You sink into the warmth, eyes closing and throat humming. His hands briefly touch your stomach before they find their rightful place. Joel cups your tits, placing each of them into his hands, and marvels at the heaviness. So full of his special cream. 

“They’ve gotten bigger, haven’t they?” Joel murmurs. His cock is already hard and straining inside his pants. Hell, on the walk home, the prospect of milking you had him almost cumming right then and there. 

“They’re definitely heavier,” Joel adds as he squeezes them. He notices you aren’t wearing a bra, and with one simple motion, he has his shirt on the floor (the only one that fits you). You’re facing him now, chest and belly exposed. The sight of you has him losing it. Joel feels happy and excited, and everything in between that. Joel can’t believe that you're his, and he’s yours. Nor can he believe his eyes because your tits are definitely bigger, and your nipples are already dewy with that milky nectar he loves so much. 

Joel groans, latches his mouth onto your right side, and starts suckling like a starved man. Your nipple is already stiff and responsive, and you feel the sensation of milk rushing through to meet your partner’s greedy tongue. His hand expertly kneads the pillowy flesh, expressing even more of the sweet cream that has him hard as a rock. Joel starts to breathe deeper and sucks harder, causing you to moan. 

Your fingers comb through Joel’s hair, and you hold him there because the pleasure of having Joel drain your tits is undeniable; in fact, the more Joel sucks and licks your nipple, the more your arousal grows. You have to remind him, “Joel…. We have less than ninety minutes -”

He grunts in response and moves his mouth to the other side he’s been neglecting. The feeling is indescribable, and you relish it. The relief Joel is giving you is insurmountable. But it also has you growing impatient with him. Your core is aching for his cock, and your hands travel over his body. You feel his muscles, thick and robust, beneath the plaid shirt. You need him now. 

“Joel,” Your hand drops to the bulge in his jeans, and you gently rub it with purpose. The friction makes Joel groan, finally lifting his head from your tits. His eyes are filled with a dazy lustiness that makes you fumble with your words. Still, it doesn’t matter because Joel is suddenly pressing his lips against yours and kissing you with an ardour that makes you forget everything you are about to say. 

You taste the substance that has Joel acting ravenous. It reminds you of cereal milk because it’s so sweet. You part from his lips, whispering, “Can I taste you now?” 

He doesn’t have time to answer because you’re already lowering yourself to your knees, planting them on the ground in front of Joel. With one hand, you pop open the buttons of his jeans and pull down the zipper. Roughly, you tug at the opening and watch as his thick, luscious cock springs free from its confines. At the sight of it, you lick your lips. Your fingers wrap around his length and slide over his stiffness. The movement makes Joel shiver, and when your lips finally touch his cock, a groan escapes from his throat.

Joel has been so concerned about making you feel good that he forgot to consider himself. Suddenly, you thrust him inside your mouth while twisting your hand down his cock. He quickly fills your mouth, and his hand grasps your hair in hopes of controlling you. However, he’s fine with letting you have your way right now. It’s been a while since you had the opportunity to please him; Joel loves how the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, and you’re so adept at sucking him off that his length doesn’t make you gag anymore  - 

Expertly, you glide your mouth from the hilt to the tip of Joel’s cock, coating it in your saliva. Joel’s eyes nearly roll into his head because it feels so fucking good. It’s the only thing he can tell you because he’s almost lost his mind from the bliss of your mouth sheathing his cock. You don’t stop until Joel gasps for air and asks you to stop. 

“Babe, babe, babe,” His voice is husky, and he roughly pulls on your hair. You gasp and gaze up at him with a thick string of spit connecting your lips to his cock. Joel quivers at the sight and has to remember what he will say. You wait patiently. Obediently. 

Breathlessly, he asks, “Do you want me to fuck you here? Or…”

Without skipping a beat, you reply, “Here,” 

Joel doesn’t need to be told twice and is quick to shed his jeans before he starts to help you. You lean forward onto the palm of your hands and watch as Joel goes behind and begins to slide off the sweatpants you’re always wearing. Not that Joel minds. He knows it’s the only thing that fits you because you remind him every damn day. Once the sweatpants are off, he tosses them to the side and stares lovingly at your ass. It’s so round and perky and panty-less. He’s genuinely surprised, and it makes him smile. 

He caresses your fleshy cheeks, asking, “Is this for me?”

Joel can’t see your face but can tell you are blushing. Sheepishly, you admit, “As soon as you left, I took them off - for easy access,”

“Oh, darlin’,” He swoons, “You’re so sweet to think of me,”

Joel pries your sweet cheeks apart and buries his face, his tongue immediately swirling around your puckered asshole. Mewls spill forth from your mouth, and you wiggle your hips, trying to splay them apart because your body needs more. Joel’s tongue slithers down, lapping the juice practically pouring out of your needy, swollen cunt. He licks and sucks with wild abandon, groaning at your deliciousness. He doesn’t stop until you are begging him, “Joel, fuck me. Fuck me with your big cock, please. Oh god, fuck me, already!”

He removes his mouth from your exterior and replaces it with his cock. He rubs and rubs his bulbous crown between your molten wetness, gliding it back and forth until it’s coated with your slickness. When he thinks it’s enough, he pushes into your tight cunt. At first, your channel is resistant. But slowly, your velvety walls happily start devouring Joel’s cock until his entire length basks in the warmth. 

You are gasping at the sensation of being stretched out. It’s almost too much in this position, and a small rock of Joel’s hips gives way to your first orgasm. Your vision swirls as a wave of ecstasy comes crashing through. Your fingers grip the carpet as your cunt swells and clenches his cock. Your back arches as you cry out, “Fuck, Joel,”

Immediately, he stops, thinking he has hurt you or the baby. Panic-stricken, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“N-n-nothing,” You stutter out, attempting to catch your breath. Your lungs greedily suck in the air, saturated with the smell of sex. You tell him, “You made me cum,”

“Already?” He murmurs and devilishly thinks about the five times he made you cum last week. Joel rocks his hips again, and you whimper at the movement. At a glacial pace, Joel pulls out before sliding back in and burying his cock to the hilt. You’re gripping the carpet and moaning like crazy. He’s sure the neighbours can hear you, which drives Joel forward. He wants them to know how good he is at fucking you. 

Joel grabs your hips, nails sinking into the fleshy bits, and plows in and out of your pussy. He’s pulling all the way out and pushing all the way in, ensuring you feel every inch of his girthy length. Your body is rocking beneath his, tits swaying like udders. You reach between your legs to touch your clit. It’s pulsating and yearning to be touched. You gingerly circle it, knowing a light touch is enough to send you over the edge. And you’re right because, within seconds, your second orgasm is rolling through.

You wail, “Joel, Joel, Joel,” but Joel doesn’t stop this time. He continues to youthfully spear your pussy and watches as your creamy juices coat his cock. Vigorously, you rub your clit because a third orgasm is imminent. Your back arches and your hips are high in the air, and Joel stops, pulling out completely, to watch as your pussy trembles with another orgasm. Your thighs are dripping with your juices, and his name still spills out of your mouth. Repeatedly. 

His hand squeezes your hip, “Mmm, darlin’. That’s your third one - should we slow down? Don’t want to hurt -”

“Need more,” You interrupt him, “Need to cum more, Joel,”

Joel shakes his head, “Darlin’,'' He knows you aren’t thinking straight, driven to recklessness because of the pure ecstasy that has raptured your body. You turn over, laying on your back. You splay your legs apart, and your pussy glistens in the light. It’s so swollen, so puffy. Your hand is back, and your fingers are working your clit. But from this angle, it’s a little more challenging because of your protruding belly. And it’s making you frustrated. Especially because Joel is just watching, not helping. 

“Joel,” You growl, “Fuck me,”

A single eyebrow of his shoots up, and you begrudgingly mutter, “Please,”

Much to your surprise, Joel moves. However, instead, he hovers above your chest and settles his cock in the valley of your tits. His hands squeeze them, and the milk for his unborn child sprays out, sprinkling across your chest and hitting his cock. At first, Joel goes slow, his cock passing between your tits. It’s a different kind of friction and holy hell… it feels good. His cock, slippery with your juices and milk, has him gliding through your breasts with ease. He grips harder and fucks your tits faster, rocking his hips back and forth. 

As he slips in and out, he milks your bountiful breasts in the process. He does it until you are soaked. He’s breathing hard, and his balls are tightening. He’s close, so fucking close. But he doesn’t want to finish like this because he knows you want more orgasms, and who is he to deny his pregnant partner? You have been carrying his baby for months, and it hasn’t been easy. And Joel knows that once the baby is born, you won’t be able to have sex for weeks. Not until you’re healed. So, why not let you live a little? 

He pulls his cock out of your cleavage and moves his face to yours, kissing you passionately. His tongue swirls and mingles with yours before he shifts down. Joel latches his mouth around your nipple and practically inhales a gulp of cream into his mouth. He doesn’t swallow and comes back up, kissing you again. Messily, Joel washes your mouth with your milk. It’s sweet and warm, and it’s fucking kinky as hell. It has you moaning into Joel’s mouth. He moans back, letting you know he loves every moment of it too.

As he continues to kiss you, Joel reaches down and takes his cock, sliding it over your puffy and sensitive lips before pressing it into your velvet channel. Your body welcomes him, and your mouth drops, gasping as you effortlessly fit his entire length . Once more, Joel explores your warm depths with a vigorous youthfulness. His flesh is clapping yours over and over until you are yelling his name over and over. Your hands are gripping his forearms, nails digging into his skin. 

“Mmm, Joel, mmm, Joel, gonna cum, Joel, mmm - fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your eyes roll back, and an unwavering fourth climax raptures your body. A euphoric release rolls across your body, and you undulate beneath Joel. He watches as your belly quivers, and he feels your cunt trying to expel him, and when he does finally pull out, a massive bolt of liquid escapes - he realizes you’re squirting. Something he’s only heard rumours about. He’s astonished by the amount of liquid that is coming out and by how long your orgasm is lasting.

Meanwhile, you are gasping for air, lungs greedily gulping it down. You have no idea what happened; all you know is it’s a big wet mess down there. You’re gazing at Joel, cock-drunk. Orgasm-drunk. Your brain is buzzing with satisfaction. Your fixation on cumming has been satiated. However, your partner is still rock hard. He still needs to cum, and he’s more eager than ever before. He shoves his cock back in, and the molten wetness has his cock quivering as his climax punches through, pushing him over the edge.

He doesn't warn you. He doesn’t have to - the damage is done. You’re reaping what he sowed. Joel shoots his seed as far into you as possible with a single thrust. His hands touch your belly, caressing the soft skin, and he pushes his cock even deeper, where he empties the rest of his balls. When he pulls out, his cum mixed with yours oozes out from your crease and pools onto the carpet beneath you. 

You dare to smile up at him, murmuring: “Thank you, Daddy,”

[hipstersoulgushers]

spooky

[kepsir]

Pilihan Playlist hari ini; Triga Irvanda Fajar a.k.a Sinkink Seorang visual artist dan juga pemusik dari band bernama Lowres yang berasal dari Bandar Lampung. Gitu.

[griffinshoardofpencils]

Recently I went to see Airness at Forward Theater in Madison! I absolutely loved the show, so I went to see it twice! Here's a little doodle of the protags

(Top row, left to right: Golden Thunder, The Nina, and Shreddy Eddie)

(Bottom row: Facebender, Cannibal Queen, and D Vicious)

[virovirokun-has-adhd]

[img desc. white text on a black page that reads "I tell myself that it isn't so, that i will surely set foot on the same carpet floor again, the abyss eternally staring into a clear stream. Our story isn't the same as the wind around us that swayed thousands. Our love is so much more than tha; it thrives in affection poured into a cup, words whispered in its overflow until its tides down the echowing truth of it all, until the bones of the rules break, entangling and morphing into something new. He and I, we live forever, and oh, we love forever, the pain burns us until it can burn us no more and still we will continue to love." end img desc]

Uh

[itswillbc]

I thought I knew what wpw meant but apparently not. I don't want to accidentally say something that gets misunderstood, what does #wpw mean?