pascalispretty

[pascalispretty]

[pascalispretty]

not to be insensitive but some of the salem witch trials were so funny bitches like “i saw her at the devils sacrament!!!” girl... what were YOU doing at the devils sacrament 👀

[pascalispretty]

Curses of the Heart

— by xis.lanyx

[pascalispretty]

[pascalispretty]

Never mind a cold shower, I think I need to go stand under Niagra Falls for a bit after this

Ruined!

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.

Warnings: 18+. Peepaw brainrot + a dash of anorgasmia. Unprotected p-in-v, cockwarming, age gap, daddy kink.

Note: Finals are whooping my ass left & right. This is a quickie.

Word count: 1.2k | Part of the Waiting Game ‘verse

Surely he was hurting you now.

Joel Miller had a kink for many, many fun activities, but splitting a sweet young thing like you over his cock to the point you were almost in tears was just not one of them.

At the same time your poor, surely-bruised walls pulsed around his hardened length, he felt a pang of guilt. His balls were pressed against your ass like two lead weights, soaked with the remains of your third release, and his mind was at war with itself—keep fucking you like this? Pull out and offer his sincerest apologies for not being able to cum? A boy your age would’ve never had you waiting around like that, aching around his cock, much less begging for something as simple as a cumshot.

He decided to go straight to the source. Leaning over your prone body on the bed before him, he was careful not to rut his hips or jostle his dick around too much.

Joel pressed a hot, stubbled kiss to your cheek, then:

“‘S’it too much, baby? She need a break, maybe?”

Joel thumbed at that space where your body ended and his began and nearly lost his mind to the pearly-white slick that had accumulated with time. Two hours time, he had to remind himself while you moaned and writhed and bucked your ass back. Your cunt was choking him.

Crying, too.

Your eyes flew open the moment his words reached you.

“You kiddin’ me, Miller?! I could do this shit all day.”

Sometimes Joel forgot you were only in your twenties. Really, the thought only occasionally crossed his mind in moments like these—or when your father, his best friend, happened to bring you up—but when it did, it hit him hard. You were young. Lively. Surely far too spry and full of life to be messing around with a man as old as him.

Joel’s guilt ran almost commensurate with his pleasure when he felt you anchor your feet on the bed and start to fuck yourself back and forth over his still-throbbing dick.

Almost.

He planted a hand beside your head and grinned. He let you fuck him. Felt you pull off, crawl up the bed a little, then beckon him back to your body, where your ass was now pointing up and your back was arched in invitation.

Almost.

“You know I can’t sleep without your cum inside me.”

And you made a point to spread your knees and look behind you with a smile as sweet as Milo’s tea, fingers drumming a beat against the bedspread in anticipation.

“You do wanna fill me up, don’t you, daddy?” you teased.

Yeah, no. The guilt was gone. Joel could worry about being a depraved old man when he was done cumming.

Then he was back inside you, driving his hips until every last inch of him was wrapped snug within your wet and velvety embrace, and he sighed. A real protracted one, like the kind he was liable to exhale after climbing two flights of stairs, or else just hoisting himself off the sofa. Or lifting you in his arms and fucking you hard against the hood of his Bronco. Any time. Any place. You were kind enough to oblige him with the best cardio of his life, so the least Joel could do now was make you cum again.

He snatched your hands up in one of his own and placed your wrists at the base of your spine. With his other, free set of fingers he took to rubbing your clit gently.

“SON OF A—”

“—good girl.”

You let out a bloodcurdling scream into your pillow and secretly hoped this man’s dick would never deflate again. Not with the way he was sawing his thing back and forth and dragging you to the edge, circling your clit like you were the single most precious thing in the world to him.

“Oh, sweet pea, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Like he could feel the tears staining the cushion himself.

“Mmrooonme,” you cried into it, voice garbled by cotton.

“What’s’at, honey? Can’t hear ya.”

Joel then bent at the waist, pretending to be leaning in to hear you better, when really he knew he’d be digging in your guts with that big, bulbous head of his and making you squeal again. Hands still held captive behind you, you inched your chin back on the pillow so your moans could be heard even louder while Joel sped up.

“You— ruined me,” you repeated. Now clear as ever.

Joel tried to hide his smile and glanced down between your body and his. Then, while his ring finger joined the other two to make their tight, light circles, he returned,

“Ruined? Pussy feels just fine t’me.”

You’d kill him if he wasn’t so good at this. You turned your head more to meet his eyes from the corner of yours.

“No. Ruined me. For anyone else.”

Probably forever.

“Good.”

You knew he liked it that way.

You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The hefty, broad, and greying Joel Miller had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.

First, his arms came to rest on either side of your body.

“Shit,” you whimpered.

Next, his lips went trailing down to your ear.

“Just a little more, sugar—that’s it,” he murmured while his hips sank in, and you felt that big, delicious stretch.

Then he released your hands so they were free to squeeze the sheets, and when they did, his moved over them—lacing his fingers through your own—and his lips pressed a kiss to your jaw. He held you in a tender grasp. His breath was hot on your neck, and the whole of his body was blanketing yours. Joel knew you liked it like that, which is why he made sure not to leave an inch of space in between. He was grunting, rutting, holding you close while his cock drilled a maddening pace inside you.

“You ruined me too, y’know,” he mumbled into your skin.

His nose was flush with the side of your cheek, nudging inward. Begging you to turn your head just a little more so he could kiss you. Weak as you were, you obliged.

And you moaned against that grey, stubbled chin of his when the thrusts above you had your cunt grinding the bed, rubbing that soft and helpless nub on the sheets.

“C’mon— let daddy have it,” he growled, “Let daddy have it and make it his, huh? That okay by you, baby?”

It was.

More than okay, as confirmed by the orgasm that tore through your body moments later while your teeth sank into the flesh of Joel’s lower lip and your cunt clenched and soaked over him whole. Joel wedged his tongue in your mouth and fucked you through it. His broad and callused hands were like iron around your own, holding you tight and keeping you still amidst a maelstrom of pleasure that combed over your every last nerve.

He licked into your mouth. Licked over it. Took the sick and distinct pleasure of knowing no one but him got to see you like this, with your jaw hanging slack and your eyes rolling back and your whines repeating quietly, ‘Daddydaddypleasedaddyfuckohfuckdontstop.’

Maybe ruined wasn’t such a bad thing to be at all.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader

[pascalispretty]

Want to join the Pedro Scouts of Tumblr? Earn badges? Make friends? Engage in shenanigans?

Get your sashes ready: sign-ups start soon! 🎉

#so intrigued #signal boost!

[pascalispretty]

they are Cancelling me for dealing with my grief as best i can . also for the vicious war Crimes

[pascalispretty]

When you only want to write certain parts of your story, but in order for those parts to make sense and have any impact you need to write other parts connecting them and you just don’t… wanna…

[pascalispretty]

I think there’s something so deeply and intimately and morbidly true about The Last of Us’s primary thesis which is that humanity’s fatal flaw, in that very Shakespearian way, is that we are destined to care too much about one another so much so that we discard the collective entirely. like we have such a capacity to love the human race and humanity as a whole, to grow our communities and govern cities how we know best and foster such connection with the masses which we are part of, but it’s overtaken by our capacity to love even just a single other person. like one human can come into your life that creates such an intrinsic and passionate love in you— or maybe two people or a family’s worth or any small number— and you suddenly would burn entire villages down just to keep them safe.

joel doesn’t blink twice murdering to find ellie. he doesn’t look back when he decides to do what he does at the hospital later on. he has no remorse about any of it it, because this one girl has grown to mean more to him than any possible greater good could ever mean. and it’s reciprocal. ellie would— and does— do anything she can to help him, save him, protect him, and, eventually, to avenge him. because that’s what you do when you love someone. not when you love people. when you love someone.

and it’s selfish, in a way??? because we love these people and would do so much for them because they mean more to us than other strangers do. it’s exactly like an iteration of the trolley problem, actually. one track has your daughter on it and one track has fifty people. don’t even try telling me you wouldn’t go onto track B if it meant saving your daughter and her puppy dog eyes from the whimpering and pain and fear. The Last of Us says yes, you would. I would. we all would. and like yeah that is our greatest weakness, that we have such a unique ability to love a handful of people so deeply that our compassion towards community and strangers and the bigger collective starts to slip from view. but goddamn what a fucking great fatal flaw it is to have. we are all going to die and the world will burn because we loved another person too much.

#the last of us #TLOU

[pascalispretty]

He’s beauty, he’s grace, he’ll punch you in the face 😊

#joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us

[pascalispretty]

This sounds incredible. That neck is just begging to be nibbled on tbh.

could you tell us any more about your new wip for javi p? :3

sure bby thank you for asking <3

(see below to watch me ramble about javi p x vampire!reader and read a snippet)

right now i’m kind of just letting the vibes guide me. i had this vision of a stressed out season two javier visiting his vampire lady in the same way he would seek out sex, basically like a vice. but i always headcanon that javi is so good to the girls he sleeps with, even if he’s paying them or just using them for information. he’s always focused on their pleasure because i think it makes him feel good for something.

i imagine this vampire girlie would see that and sort of single him out as someone who’d be happy to let her feed from him. and he totally is lol. then it kind of becomes about stress release but i think it’s also about him feeling like he’s accomplishing something, which he so rarely gets to feel, especially when it comes to his work.

also i really want to bite him.

so anyway. here’s a little snippet if it interests you.

[pascalispretty]

I am dead serious when I say that you guys need to start giving writers feedback more often. I have a fic here that has a total of 4015 notes and only 218 aren't likes. So, let me break this down for you a bit.

Of 4015 notes, 186 are reblogs and 32 are comments. Two reblogs, as well as comments, are mine so I'll subtract them from the equation making the total number of notes 4011 (184 rbs, 30 comments, 3,797 likes).

Of the 184 reblogs, 16 are private, meaning they're absolutely useless in spreading and sharing the piece. The remaining 168 consists of 136 reblogs falling under "other reblogs" while only 32 fall under "comments and tags." And of the 32 under "comments and tags," only 9 have something besides a copy of the tags that I included in my initial post.

The 184 reblogs make up 4.6% of the total notes, the reblogs under "comments and tags" make up 0.8% of the total notes, and the reblogs under "comments and tags" with anything besides tags copied from the initial post make up 0.2% of the total notes.

At one point, I reblogged the post, asking if anyone wanted a part two. That's when I got my first comments. The first 6 comments were in response to that, and of the 30 total comments (excluding my own), only two were unrelated to a part two. Which means I can guarantee that I wouldn't have had that many comments had I not posed the question of a sequel fic.

And if I add those 2 comments to the 9 reblogs, I get 0.3% of the total notes on my post that make up the portion of notes that aren't likes, empty reblogs, or comments about a part two. And that's me being generous because two of the reblogs actually do mention a part two.

I also posted a poll asking what people wanted in part two, and that poll got 238 votes. That is 54 people more who voted for what they wanted in a part two that didn't reblog or help push part one.

Don't get me wrong, I love seeing people in my notifs liking my posts, but sometimes it's just not enough. It is utterly exhausting waking up to multiple hundreds of notifications and not seeing a single person compliment your work. You guys will like stuff, follow, and then head straight to the inbox asking for more. I know it's been said a hundred times before, but we are not machines; we do this for free in our spare time.

The post in question was written when I was tired out of my mind, and I ended up not liking it, so I let it sit in my drafts. I briefly mentioned it on my blog and was met with one of my followers showing interest in the idea, which prompted me to revise, edit, and post it. It was a gift, as are all fics and pieces of art by writers and artists on this site, and yet it was treated like a commodity.

When people say it's unmotivating they're not kidding. When I had 100+ asks in my inbox, all of them being requests, I felt like I had the worst case of writers block known to man. I would open my inbox and immediately close it because the idea of posting anything knowing the only response would be more requests, was awful.

When people leave little messages in the tags, full-blown commentary, or kind messages in my inbox referencing posts, I feel more motivated than ever. Those responses are what drives me to write more. But when I, and other writers, are being treated like we're here to cook up whatever fantasisies you have in mind, I can't help but side-eye a little.

We wouldn't write if we didn't enjoy it, but the moment it feels like a job, it becomes that much less enjoyable, and then everybody loses. Just send a kind message to your favorite writers every once in a while. I promise it'll make their day.

I would also like to say that as I've written this, I've seen more people like that post. So, there's that.

[pascalispretty]

Blorbo from my cancelled single season show from over a decade ago, that I am in retrospect glad the creator didn't get a chance to ruin like he ruined his bigger show, his marriage and his reputation

[pascalispretty]

i love you, authors in my phone :]

[pascalispretty]

DIRTY DANCING: HAVANA NIGHTS (2004) dir. Guy Ferland ↳ DIEGO LUNA as Javier Suarez & ROMOLA GARAI as Katey Miller

#dirty dancing: havana nights #diego luna

[pascalispretty]

@frannyzooey the way this screamed ITD!Ezra to me. Shopping for Cee's birthday or something.

PEDRO PASCAL spotted out and about in New York City

#pedro pascal #god i love him

[pascalispretty]

🌷 Who's up for a creative challenge? 🌷

If it's not apparent already, I love flowers and I love the Pedro Boys! So, what could be more fun than combining the Pedro Boys and flowers in a creative challenge? 🌷🪻🌻

Perhaps Marcus brings you flowers on date night, Dave's scattered sumptuous petals leading you up to bed, you and Ezra get stranded on a planet with alien-esque florals, or you're showering sweet Javi G with his favourite blooms for his birthday... 🌷🪻🌻

Running during the month of May, I challenge you to write and share a fic - or fics - featuring any of the Pedro Boys and flowers. 🪻

You can also make mood boards or art if you're not a writer - or don't want to write - but still want to participate! 🌷

🌻 See below for the full challenge details! 👇🏻

The challenge deets:

Must feature at least one Pedro Boy - can be any character Pedro has played, no matter how popular. You can feature more than one Pedro Boy too, if you like.

Must contain flowers or plants in some capacity. 🌷🪻🌻 Can be the main feature of your story, or a background aesthetic. Florals, plants, succulents - you name it, you can feature any of them!

Can be as smutty or fluffy as you want! Hot, soft, gentle, fun, quirky - you've got freedom on whether you wanna write smut or not.

No word limit - you write as many words as you see fit.

Any Reader type! You can write in X Reader, original character or just the Pedro Boys engaging with one another. Any gender/race/size or physical ability of Reader is absolutely welcome too! 🌈 This is an inclusive house! 🙌🏻

Mood boards, video edits and original artwork is also welcome - but must feature a Pedro Boy and flowers, and must be your own creation.

No limit to the number of submissions - you can write more than one fic, or submit more than one artwork, but the Pedro Boys must be different for each submission.

Tag me in your work and use the #jettsflora&faunachallenge so I can add it to a Masterlist.

This challenge will run from 1st May - 31st May 2024 and I'll add works as they're posted.

☝🏻 Don't worry too much if you miss the deadline, life happens, and you'll still be able to submit your fic/art after the deadline. Just let me know. 🌷🪻🌻

🪻🌷🌻 And as a flowery bonus...

I will pick one piece of work submitted at complete random, when all the works are posted, and will send that person a bunch of flowers!* 💐

I hope you'll participate and have fun & I can't wait to see what you'll come up with! Would really appreciate a signal boost too - thankies 🖤

A-Z of Flowers Database Look up your flowers 🌷🪻🌻

*I can send flowers worldwide. In order to send them, I'll need a name & a delivery address. I appreciate it if you don't feel comfortable sharing that info with a stranger, however please rest assured those details will stay with me and only me. The recipient will be picked at random using a generator. If you have floral allergies, I can send a substitute little floral themed gift instead. 🖤

#this is such a lovely idea! #signal boost #pedro pascal fanfiction