#to help with their ocs and such
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
swings a pocket watch in front of you. oohhh you want to learn about afflatus. you want to understand the ecological cycle between them explained in the early stages of the game and the themes they represent. mineral and plant referring to community and groups vs beast and star referring to isolation and the individual. ohhhh you want to look into them. you want to understand the differences between how mineral refers to the solid systems and traditions and unmovable concepts that rule this world, manmade or not vs how plant refers to the everchanging adapting systems found in nature that inherently belong in this world
ohhhh yes you want to understand that the beast afflatus refers to the underdog's fight against an environment that doesnt allow space for them vs the star afflatus isolation of being singled out due to a trait or talent that sets you apart from your environment. hence why beast is weak against mineral (its an individual at disadvantage vs an entire system that works against them) and why mineral is weak against star (its the established rules and traditions vs the trailblazing genius that can topple societies. and why star is weak against plant (its the revolutionary against the rules of nature that states everything must change, you are not special for causing change) and why plant is weak against beast (its the harmony of a community being destroyed from inside by an individual seeking something for themselves)
ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh you want to study in-game details and analyze them to see the full picture of a character you want to understand that dikke is not a cruel judge because her incantations are attack and heal and they both have flavor text that differentiates between justice for those who need it and the abuse of power. because shes not heartless nor strictly cold, shes attempting to make a difference from inside a corrupt system.
ohhhhh you want to understand that pavia is not a broken person who is touchstarved for community because he has made himself his own community as seen with his incantations and gamemode that highlights he's much happier doing whatever the fuck he wants on his own without restraint. ohhhhhhh you want to understand the reason 37 and regulus butt heads so much is because they're two sides of the star afflatus experience, but both of them are equally as smart and equally as valid as geniuses in their own righ
o hhhhhhhhh you want to understand that afflatus refers to the experiences someone goes through and explains why they are like this as people, hence why life changing explanations can change your afflatus and this is why kakania was INTELLECT in 1.7 but she became PLANT in 1.9 in the main story oooooooooooooooooo
edit: hi if you got this far and you think this is interesting consider checking the beginning of my afflatus analysis here on my writing blog!
#reverse 1999#sorry i love analysis so much ive done nothing but like#discuss afflatus and mediums and incantations and shit like that with friends#to help with their ocs and such#for the past few days#so im very enriched
242 notes
·
View notes
Text
When a Character Is Grieving Someone They Never Got to Say Goodbye To
✧ They talk about the person in past tense… then correct themselves. Then stop talking entirely.
✧ They touch things that belonged to the person like they’re fragile, sacred, about to disappear.
✧ They hoard the last voicemail, last message, last anything. Play it. Don’t play it. Just knowing it exists hurts enough.
✧ They leave something untouched, an empty seat, a half-packed bag, a coffee order that isn’t theirs.
✧ They get irrationally angry when someone else seems to be “moving on.” As if forgetting is betrayal.
✧ They don’t let themselves cry all at once. It comes in pieces. Like they’re afraid too much grief will drown them.
✧ They over-apologize. For being quiet. For being distant. For not being okay.
✧ They become hyper-aware of time, dates, anniversaries, time zones, the exact moment everything ended.
✧ They get superstitious. Ritualistic. As if doing things "right" might reverse something.
✧ They smile when they talk about the person. But it’s brittle. And it never quite touches their eyes.
#writing#writerscommunity#writer on tumblr#writing tips#writing advice#character development#writer tumblr#writblr#writing help#oc character#am writing#writeblr#writebrl#writer community#writer stuff#writer things#writers of tumblr#writing community
16K notes
·
View notes
Text
blehhh...
i made an aa/lawyersona of @snapscube :3 we all know and love the lawyer+silly girl duos of ace attorney but it's about time the silly girl became the lawyer
#that animation kicked my ass#SUPER fun though. i love ace attorney sprite work#i want to make my own aa ocs now...#but n e wayz hi olivia if youre seeing this i hope u have SO much fun with the rest of the games :]#i Will be keeping up with the aa liveblogging it helps keep me insane about ace attorney#bug art#snapcube#ace attorney#bug animated
16K notes
·
View notes
Text
Sylus would be an amazing weighted blanket let's be real.
Mephisto is clearly not amused with being the third wheel 24/7 atp
#love and deepspace#lads#lnds#sylus#lads sylus#恋与深空#qin che#love and deepspace sylus#l&ds sylus#sylus love and deepspace#oc#original character#oc x canon#fanart#realised I never shared this silly meme redraw on here HELP
8K notes
·
View notes
Text
Drawing bases & pose references pt 92!
3 extra drawings for patrons!
#art reference#art ideas#art help#art resources#art tips#draw#draw your ocs#draw your comfort characters#drawing poses#drawing base#drawing reference#free base#free to use#pose reference#poses#anatomy poses#pose practice#artists on tumblr#draw your ship#albanenechi
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
This is a friendly reminder to give your OC a firm and unmistakable L every now and then.
This is a necessary action to keep your OC healthy for the long term.
#oc#oc writing#oc wip#writing advice#writing process#creative writing#writers on tumblr#writing#writers#writers on ao3#ao3#writeblr#writing community#writing help
28K notes
·
View notes
Text


my lesbian werewolf oc >>>>>
#oc tag#maru#werewolf#lesbian#queer#blood tw#tw blood#original character#my art#mine#the story line here is that chand (the human) was going to be messed with and maru (the wolf)#was on the brink of tranforming bc of the full moon and happened upon chand and freaked out and mauled the guy#but is still trying not to fully turn#and chand is like wtf just happened but also maru just helped me so im not going to run away#this scene has just been rattling in my brain and this took me like forever to complete bc of all the details#but shes finally finished
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
‼️There are no “houses” left in Gaza - only loss, hunger and will to live
Homes are gone. Entire neighborhoods erased from the map. Families torn apart, and memories buried beneath shattered walls.


There's no food on the table. No clean water. No safe place to sleep. The basics of life - things the world takes for granted - are dreams for Gaza now.
People aren't living here.
They re surviving. Barely.


With empty stomachs, sleepless nights, and hearts full of fear
believe that you want us to live our life normally but it's not in our hands
We depend on you, on your generosity that you are never gonna leave us alone
We are waiting for your support and donations here
#gaza#save gaza#gaza gfm#gaza fundraiser#gaza gofundme#help gaza#gazaunderattack#gaza genocide#free gaza#gaza strip#free verse#free palestine#palestine news#palestinian genocide#all eyes on palestine#i stand with palestine#palestine fundraiser#save palestine#art donaldson#my art#artwork#original art#artists on tumblr#art#ai art#furry art#traditional art#oc art#digital art#nail art
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
joel miller • be quiet, or i’ll make you



“Tightest pussy I ever had. Goddamn. You wanna feel good, huh? I’ll make you feel good. Just lemme’ have it nice n��� deep, and I’ll get you back later. Let you sit on my face for hours. Make you cum till’ you’re cryin.”
WARNINGS - smut smut smut mdni, porn with some plot, forced proximity, feral!joel, risky/secret sex, brutal sex, size!kink, dubcon if you squint but mostly a mutual want situation, reader and joel have an unspoken relationship, copious amounts of dirty talk, piv, creampie, daddy dom joel.
The world ended in disaster.
You’ve lived with that knowledge for years now, and you think you’ve finally come to terms with the kind of things you’ll get from it. Pain. Loss. Destruction. The same chaos, day in day out, just in different forms.
You know that at this point you’ll be lucky if you survive until tomorrow; so you take it in stride.
And it’s with that thought that you find yourself following Joel into the city, your steps just as reluctant as he was to agree to this. You don’t particularly want to be out here — and neither does he — but you’ve been wanting to look for more medical supplies for a while now and Joel wasn’t about to let you go alone. Despite how much bitchin’ he did beforehand.
You can’t tell which is more depressing; the streets covered in broken glass and littered with remnants of a life long gone, or the buildings that are nearly crumbling to the ground. Neither are very pleasant to look at, but not many things are these days, so you keep moving. You have a job to do, and you don’t have too much time to do it — the sun won’t be up much longer, and you want to get the fuck out of here before the real dangerous kinds of people come out lookin’ for their next meal.
Or, whatever Joel had said earlier. Mostly just in attempt to scare you.
Minutes feel like hours as you keep your gaze pointed forward, and when you pass a shattered window belonging to some old broken down building, you don’t dare look inside.
You’d rather not know what lingers inside death eaten walls.
But it’s while you’re doing that, keeping your gaze ahead, that you miss the fact that Joel has stopped walking. When it finally registers that the world around you has gotten quieter - and when you finally do turn around - you’re surprised for two reasons.
The first being that he even stopped at all, and the second being the fucking look on his face.
“You alright?” You ask as you edge closer, glancing at the abandoned building that’s in front of him. It doesn’t look like anything remarkable, but there’s definitely something in the way he stares at it. “Joel, you still with me?”
He isn’t saying anything, his expression is rather blank — but you know him well enough to know that he’s not just seeing what’s right in front of him. He’s seeing something else entirely. He snaps back to attention faster than you would have expected at the sound of your voice, and when his eyes land down on yours - there’s something inside them that makes your heart sink.
“Somethin’s wrong.” Is all he says before he’s grabbing your wrist, and yanking you inside.
Your heart starts pounding faster, but you try your best to stay calm. He isn’t the kind of man who would panic without cause, so you know he must have seen something - or heard something - and you’re doing your best not to let that scare you.
“Joel—shit—what the hell—“ you stumble over rubble and pieces of broken furniture. “What’re you—“
He’s pulling you deeper into the building, not giving you a chance to stand still long enough to say more. When you get to a staircase he yanks you down a few steps, waiting for the sound of the door shutting behind you before shoving your shoulders back against the wall.
“You listen to me—“ he’s panting, words spat through grit teeth. “You’re gonna’ shut up, and you’re gonna’ stay quiet. Can you do that for me?”
The tone of his voice alone forces you to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from talking. It’s been a long, long time since you’ve seen him this serious. You’d almost forgotten that he was capable of producing this kind of tension - the kind that’s so palpable it could be cut with a knife.
So, you just nod, lips pressed into a thin line, and you hope that it’s enough.
“Alright.” He doesn’t seem certain of your answer, but he nods anyway, reaching for your wrist again and dragging you down the remaining stairs.
When you get to the bottom, he opens the door slowly, eyes darting around until they land on a nearby closet - and it’s only after the first step you take towards it that you hear noises on the floor above you.
Footsteps.
And way too fucking many for you to be comfortable.
The kind of heavy, laden-boot marching you’d dread to hear on good days - nevermind while you’re out in dangerous territory, trying your damnest to flee unseen. It’s only seconds before the steps grow louder, and you can feel your heart rate speeding up again - while Joel is staring at the ceiling with such intensity you think that he might just be able to will it to break if he so much as blinked at it.
Then, in a flash, he snaps out of it - dragging you toward the closet and shoving you inside before you can even think about protesting.
And god, is it fucking cramped.
The closet is small. Small enough that you have to force yourself closer to the wall so that he has space to squeeze inside behind you. And it’s within the first second that he shuts the door, and the darkness swallows you both whole - in which you realize you have a new problem altogether.
“Joel—“ you choke out as a heavy palm snakes around your waist, pressing tight against your belly. He’s a solid wall behind you, his front flush against your back, and all you can fucking feel is his hot breath against your ear - his stubble tickling your cheek. “What’s—“
“No talking.” And then he brings his free hand up to cover your mouth, and you have to stifle a noise that threatens to explode in your chest. “Not a fuckin’ word.”
You take solace in the fact that he can’t see how flushed your face becomes, but your stupid brain is working overtime - overanalyzing the feeling of his calloused palm against your lips, the heat of his mouth way too fucking close to your ear, his free hand that seems to be sliding lower down your abdomen—
“Stop squirming.” He whispers, all heat as his fingers press a little harder against your lower stomach.
You long to bark at him. I can’t control it.
But you can’t. So instead you try to focus on the sounds of the people upstairs. You try to pay more attention to the way your heart is threatening to break free through your sternum. Anything to try and take your mind off of the way he’s touching you - but he makes it so, so hard.
You’re certain you would have a better fighting chance if you were to try and move mountains.
Without even thinking, your hand comes up to wrap around his wrist, and it’s then that his lips curve into a smile against your ear. And when the realization comes crashing down - the realization that he’s fully aware of what’s happening to you - you think you may just collapse.
Oh, god, this is torture.
If it were anyone else, you’d think this was a joke. You’d think that perhaps the way he’s touching you was some kind of attempt at making the terrifying just a little more tolerable, a little more exhilarating for different reasons - but this isn’t just anyone. This is Joel. And you know his mind never works like what. Instead, he simply acts on instinct - in ways that usually leave you reeling and your thoughts in a whirlwind.
You’ve been through this a million times with him.
Unsurprisingly, this time is no different.
And as you try to focus on the footsteps above you - desperately searching for a thought, a train of any kind to follow - his hand moves again, fingertips tracing the waistband of your dirt covered cargos - barely dipping between fabric and skin.
It’s slow, teasing, but it’s enough. And you don’t currently have enough control over yourself to stop your back from arching, pressing directly against the bulge in his jeans that’s growing impatiently despite himself.
And it’s the way he exhales in your ear, the way you hear him inhale right after before his nose brushes the shell of your ear — before his hand dips lower to trace the zipper of your fly — that you find yourself fighting for your life to swallow the moan that threatens to spill because the people on the second floor are now shouting and hollering, and the whole floor seems to quake under the force of their heavy boots.
A second passes. Then two, and then ten — there’s silence. You’re pretty sure the steps are now heading away from where you’re hiding, and you think Joel must agree because he slips his hand from your mouth, sliding it down your jaw.
“Joel—“ you choke out, the last syllables of his name sounding desperate. “I-we—“
And yet again, you aren’t able to finish, because he has a habit of taking the words you think you want to say straight from your chest. You aren’t able to process it until a moment later - when his mouth finds your neck, fingers slipping into your now unzipped cargo pants.
This isn’t what you meant.
You don’t have the chance to tell him that. You don’t have the cognitive ability to push the idea that this isn’t the time. You don’t even have enough room in your head to acknowledge how this could go so badly, so quickly. You’re too drunk on the high of his touch to think straight.
And when his fingers drag the lace of your underwear to the side - all you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and pray to a God you’re sure you’ve never actually believed in that you’ll survive this without the shame over how fucking soaked you are eating you alive first.
His fingers find your clit, making slow, small circles. Just enough to make you keen. Just enough to make you forget who you are, and what you’re doing. You think if he keeps it up for any longer, the sounds trapped behind your teeth are going to jailbreak before you can get a handle on them. He knows it too - because it’s only a split second after that thought enters your mind, that he whispers gravel in your ear again.
“If y’can’t stay quiet, I’ll make you.” And it’s said with enough sternness to let you know that it isn’t a threat, it’s a promise. “Be good f’me.”
You don’t know if you can. You don’t know if you can possibly keep yourself silent. Not when his lips are teasing your burning flesh, not when his fingers are rolling your clit, not when he’s whispering promises of heaven in your ear.
But it’s then, that you hear the floorboards creak, and you know then, that you have no choice.
Either find a way to stay silent, or throw yourself headfirst into danger.
“Mm.” He hums as his fingers slip lower, sliding along your slit until they find your embarrassingly wet heat - to which you find yourself widening your feet despite yourself.
And this time, the noise that slips isn’t audible. Not to him anyway. But you can feel the sound vibrate the back of your throat. You can feel the way it glides over your tongue - and when you have the wherewithal, you bite down on your bottom lip, hard enough that it’s almost painful. He doesn’t seem to notice, and you’re glad because you know he’d only find it funny.
He pushes a finger into you, and holy fuck—
“Oh—“ the sound gets out of your mouth before you can stop it, involuntarily defying his direct order to shut the fuck up.
You hope, foolishly, it was quiet enough for him to not hear.
It isn’t, and as a result the hand that had been sitting lazily around your jaw slips firm over your mouth again, yanking your head back against his shoulder. You feel his fingers tighten as if to let you know that it’ll only get harder as his finger pushes deeper, and then retreats, pumping into you slow and steady.
“F-fuck—“ your whine is smothered against his palm, and you somehow have half the mind to realize the footsteps have stopped. Vanished. “J-joel.”
You’re expecting some type of response, some biting be quiet — but instead, all you get is a deep grunt in your ear and a roll of his hips against your ass as he slides another finger into your cunt, thumb brushing your clit.
And there’s almost no fight in you left to resist this - to resist the pleasure he’s pouring into your veins. You’d curse him if you could, if you could put more than four coherent words together to do it - but all there seems to be left in your mind is his name, which he’s using against you like he always does.
“Good girl.” He praises between slow, steady thrusts and you have to wonder what kind of game he’s playing to get you like this - to get you so undone you don’t even remember your own goddamn name.
Then again, you know better than to think there’s a game, at all. There are no games with Joel. He does what he wants and you’re either the benefit of it, or you’re the object of his ire.
But when a third finger slips into you, stretching and stuffing your cunt wider than you were mentally prepared for - you forget about any of that as you bite down on his hand as hard as you dare because it’s just too fucking much.
“J-joel—“ you try again, shaking your head. The footsteps haven’t returned. You have to believe they’re gone. You know Joel knows it too. “P-please—“
And like someone struck a match in a room full of gasoline, he seems to have decided that you’ve waited long enough. In the blink of an eye, you feel his palm leave your mouth, and move to the limited space between you. He’s unbuckling his belt.
“What’s the matter, huh?” He all but growls in your ear, still pumping his fingers deep. “Three too much for you? How d’ya think you’re gonna’ take my cock if you can’t even take my fuckin’ fingers.”
God. His voice is deep, dripping like sin. It goes straight to the center of your chest and you feel like the walls of your rib cage are cracking open. You have no idea how you’re going to be able to take him like this - especially when he’s so far gone it’s like he’s forgotten himself.
“I-I don’t know—“ and it’s the truth. You have no concept of how you’ll take a single drop of him in this state. But he’s already shifted himself free, pulling his fingers out to yank your pants down and slide his throbbing shaft into the slick space between your thighs. “F-fuck. You’re crazy.”
“Worse.” And you already know what he’s going to tell you just by the way the word drips into your ear. “M’insane.”
Truer words.
You never imagined that you’d ever find the thought of Joel Miller going insane so enticing. You imagine all kinds of ways you would have pictured it if someone had told you back when you first met - but somehow, this was never one of the things that came to mind.
“What does that make me?” You hiss as his fingers find your clit again, as he kicks your legs a little wider to slide his leaking tip against your slit.
“A goddamned fool.” He answers as he sinks into you, and there’s never been a more divine connection in the world. He groans into your ear, and you have to bite your lip again until you’re sure you might draw blood. “But you already knew that.”
And somehow, even still - you do.
Yeah. You do. He isn’t the type of man someone can ever know fully. He’s got walls and barriers built high - a fortress, impenetrable and vast - but somehow, you still manage to squeeze your way through it. It isn’t lost on you that you’re the only one who has.
“J-joel—go fuckin’ easy, please—“ you’re grabbing at the wall infront of you as he splits you open without so much as giving you a chance for breath. “It’s—been a while—“
And that stops him for a beat - but not for long, and not long enough. He still doesn’t go easy, still thrusts right to the hilt with the kind of power you’d associate with a man half his age - a man who (if the world hadn’t gone to hell) would be so close to retiring that he could taste the future on the back of his tongue - but you wouldn’t want him to anyway.
“I know, babygirl. I know. Just take it nice n’ deep, f’me. Just take it.”
And then he grabs a handful of your hair, pulling you back so he can get even deeper, your spine arching just enough.
Fucking hell.
The sound that’s almost impossible not to make threatens to rip from the pit of your chest, but you bite down in time and it turns into something between a strangled cry and an elongated whimper. You know you’re going to be walking funny tomorrow - but right now, there’s no such thing as being able to imagine tomorrow.
“You—fuck.” It’s a whisper so pained someone might think you’re actually being impaled. In some ways you are. “Oh, god, Joel. Ohmygod you’re deep—“
“There she is.” He all but growls into your ear. “There’s the tough woman I know.” If he wasn’t holding you so tightly you might’d fall at the way he suddenly slams into you. “Tightest pussy I ever had. Goddamn. You wanna feel good, huh? I’ll make you feel good. Just lemme’ have it nice n’ deep, and I’ll get you back later. Let you sit on my face for hours. Make you cum till’ you’re cryin.”
You almost bite your tongue in half at the very thought of him doing that. Your mind is a wasteland of icoherent thought - and it’s then that you know with all the certainty in the world that you’d been done for the moment he came into your life. He always had a rough edge to him - but back then, when you first met, you thought it was just the product of a shitty life. But now, you know better - now, you know he’s just a good-natured person with an innate drive to protect - and you’d go to your grave knowing that you’d go there loving him for it.
Even though, right now, it feels a lot more like he’s trying to kill you rather than protect you.
“Ohhh, fuck—“ you hiss through grit teeth as he pulls out, dragging slow at tight, wet walls. “M’close to cryin’ now.”
“Mmm.” He all but purrs. “That’ll mean I’m doin’ my job right.” There’s heat in the way he speaks that you swear would burn even the toughest person. But then again, that’s always been something you’d only ever been able to say about Joel. “M’not gonna’ be gentle. You know you ain’t deserving of it right now.”
Another time, you’d tell him he was wrong. Another time, you would have argued that you hadn’t done a single thing wrong - but right now, your thoughts are just as lost as your voice.
Still, you try your best. “W-why? Because I—mmf—dragged you outta’ bed?”
“Wrong.” You can’t see it, but you’re sure there’s a smirk on his face. “You really wanna get into it? Wanna’ make a list?”
You don’t, but you have the horrible feeling that this is going to happen either way.
“Do I have a choice?” You ask with what little breath you can find.
“No.” The word sounds so simple - but in that moment, it might as well have been a dagger. “You don’t.”
He pulls out just so he can drive back into you harder, hand sliding from your hair and back over your mouth.
“First, you dragged me outta’ bed. That right there? Shoulda been spanked for it. Next, you got yourself pinned in a goddamn closet with me after raiders chased us down. Almost got us killed.” Another painfully slow draw out, followed by a hard drive back in - smacking your cervix. “An’ for what? Cause’ you don’t wanna’ listen when I say it’s too dangerous to be out here.”
There are a million retorts you could have - most of them have something to do with you being able to take care of yourself - but none of them even find the beginning of your tongue.
He’ll take that win. Just like he takes everything else.
“Not t’mention you’ve kept this perfect ass from me for far too long.” He’s fucking you hard now, head kissing your cervix with each long thrust and you’re crying out under his palm but the sound doesn’t escape. He makes sure of it. “Mmm, yeah. Far. Too. Long.”
You want to tell him to shut up - that he’s being an ass - but you’re two broken breaths from wailing at the sting on your cervix and the pressure he’s now swirling on your clit. The only thing that’s left for you to do is the only thing you can do.
Take it.
You roll your hips, shoving back against him with every thrust just to have him hit that much deeper - and if he has something to say about it, he doesn’t say it. But he seems satisfied with just that, and suddenly, you think he’s just as close as you are.
“That’s it.” His voice is tight. “Good girl. Just like that.”
His hips snap against your ass so hard you think you might end up bruised tomorrow, but the thought only adds to the haze in your mind.
“Ffffffuck—Joel—“ you mewl, pathetic desperate and needy as a whore, against his palm. His fingers speed up against your clit. “Oh!”
“Take it, baby. Make me fuckin’ proud.” He hisses in your ear, a groan slipping out between it. “So good. Pussy feels so good.”
“Gonna’ make me cum.” You try to speak - maybe another time you’d be embarrassed by how desperate you sound, but this isn’t that time and it’s not the time to be anything other than truthful. “Mmm—gonna cum J-joel—“
“Yeah you are.” He grunts, the rhythm of his thrusts stuttering just a little. “Squeezing my cock so goddamn tight. Fuckin’ cum on it, babygirl. Wanna’ feel you.”
The sound that pushes past his palm at just the last moment doesn’t sound like you - but you know it is. It's the sound of the kind of pleasure that you’ve never experienced before that makes your entire body feel like a rubber band that’s too tight, and you have the vaguest sense of your walls squeezing the life out of him but there’s nothing you can do to stop it from happening at all - becuase your climax hits you like a goddamn freight train and its run you over hard.
You think he’s saying something - you know he is - but you can’t hear anything aside from the blood racing in your ears. Even still, you know exactly what happens next, because you’ve experienced it so many times. The way he loses himself, like he forgets every bit of control he prides himself for having and the need to empty himself inside you takes over.
He spills into you hard - and you love every second of it for the simplicity of the comedown.
It’s the kind of feeling that washes you in warmth. It’s the kind of feeling that tells you that the world is going to be okay, so long as you’ve got him and he’s got you. He groans and his hands come out to brace against the wall infront of you to hold himself up as he shoots hot jets of cum deep inside your cunt - and you can’t remember the last time you’d heard him breathe this hard. Though, truth be told, you can’t remember the last time you heard yourself breathe this hard, either.
Your mouth feels dry, your mind feels hazy, and your legs feel weak - and as he leans over you, he can surely tell all three - but he doesn’t say anything.
Instead, he drags his mouth over your ear with an inhale.
“Mmhmm.” He grumbles as he presses a kiss to your jaw. “Look what you made me to do ya.” Your cheek gets the same treatment, and a breath later as he turns your head slightly, your lips do too. “Gonna’ have my cum leakin’ out of ya all the way back to camp.”
The sound you make doesn’t even seem human, but it’s muffled before it even comes - because he’s kissing you. And it isn’t a hard kiss like you’d expect - it’s slow and steady, and you know he’s doing it in a way to say sorry, as if he realizes he might’ve gone a little too far.
You smile into it, and he does too.
“You really are insane.” You whisper as he pulls back slightly. “My cervix gonna’ need a week vacation after that.”
“M’not a good man, darlin'. If I was, I’d say sorry for that.” He whispers with a small kiss against your lips. “But I ain’t. So, I’ll just tell you I’ll take care of you later as much as you like. That good enough for now?”
There’s only one answer for you. Only one that’s ever been the answer with him.
“Always.” There is a beat of silence, and you smile in the dark. “I love you.”
He pulls out of you, finally, leaving the part of himself behind that tells you how much he loves you too without verbalizing it. Soon as he fixes his jeans, he helps you fix yours.
“And I love you.” He whispers, calloused palm finding your own. “Let’s get outta’ here. The sooner we’re back, the better.”
And that, you can’t agree more with.
#empty’s fics#help i’m chewing drywall#i don’t care. joel is hung like a#joelmillersmut#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joelmiller#joel tlou#joel x reader#joel the last of us#joel miller#joel#miller#the last of us#tlou#joel smut#joel x you#joel x y/n#joel x oc#joelmiller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller writing#joel miller the last of us#joel miller tlou#joel miller the man that you are#the last of us fanfiction
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
look someone's gotta test the fall damage of this place
#he's fine. they're fine. getting that achievement did make me laugh out loud#thank u again naomi for the helpful reference inspiration#datv#datv rook#veilguard#rook mercar#shadow dragon rook#dragon age#dav#oc art#endras mercar#davrin#bellara lutare
8K notes
·
View notes
Text
(ID in ALT text) ArtTrade with the very sweet @die-auster ! thank you for sparking back my obsession with this blue guy here!
Please check out their amazing works here! 1 . 2 . 3.
#atla#avatar kuruk#kuruk#ummi#dark water spirit#blue spirit#blue#blue is pretty much the closest i ever came to an oc the last years#but gosh i kinda like his attitude and that he mainly exist to make kuruks life harder then it already is#ummi is no help....#again big thank you to auster for being willing to do this trade with me!#their works were truly so amazing and it absolutely floored me#we agreed on only one drawing and the characters#but i guess the fun got ahead of us!#i am glad for that#jumping in my next dire deadline#also bit cruder drawings sorry about that...#also... uh... i didn'T esagerate the size difference between ummi and kuruk did i???#idk he just seems like a huge guy....#HE IS WEARING A POLARBEAR AS HEAD!!!!#he maybe not kyoshi size but like...still big guy right?!?!?
4K notes
·
View notes
Text

Aika in her natural habitat
Yeah, I’m gonna be that type of fan artist HDGDHDGEJDGD
#idwtbamg fanart#i don't want to be a magical girl#aika idwtbamg#IDWTBAMG#Aika#My Art#Fan Art#funny#meme#please laugh#kianamaiart#not my oc#please stop encouraging me that last fan art is doing numbers HSGSHSGSJDGDJDGSJD HELP#*please do I have more fa in mind*#black artist#black creatives
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
When writing toxic family dynamics
Toxic family stuff isn’t always screaming matches or broken plates. Sometimes it’s quiet control. The expectation to shrink, the pressure to be perfect, the guilt that rides shotgun. It’s complicated. And it’s deeply, deeply personal.
✧ Make the love real, but conditional. One of the most damaging things about toxic family is the illusion of love. It’s not “I love you no matter what.” It’s “I love you when you obey.” Let your character notice that.
✧ Control shows up in micro ways... Who’s allowed to speak. Who’s allowed to feel. Who apologizes first, even when they’re not wrong. Control doesn’t need to be loud. Sometimes it’s a raised eyebrow or a guilt trip.
✧ Let them question reality. Toxic families are great at gaslighting. Your character might constantly wonder, Was it really that bad? Am I being dramatic? Let them doubt their own memories. That internal confusion is real.
✧ The guilt will be crushing. Leaving a toxic family doesn’t feel empowering at first. It feels selfish. It feels wrong. It feels like betrayal, even when it's survival. Show your character grieving the fantasy of the family they wish they had.
✧ Let them try to earn love. Your character might work their ass off trying to “be good,” hoping maybe this time they’ll be enough. Toxic families move the goalposts. Let that break them a little.
✧ Show emotional whiplash... One moment everything is warm and nostalgic. The next, it’s tense and full of landmines. That unpredictability is the dynamic. Use it.
✧ Don’t make the villain cartoonish. Even the abuser might think they’re doing what’s best. They might bake cookies and say “I’m just worried about you.” That’s what makes it so damaging. Write them like people, flawed, manipulative, real.
✧ Let your character unlearn in layers. Even after they leave, they still flinch. Still fold under pressure. Still crave approval. Recovery isn’t clean. But it’s worth it. And when they finally say no, even just once, let it be electric.
#writerscommunity#writing#writer on tumblr#writing tips#writing advice#character development#writer tumblr#writblr#writing help#oc character#write#aspiring writer#female writers#indie writer#on writing#tumblr writing community#writeblr#writer#writer community#writer stuff#writer things#writers#writerslife
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
There is no context. I don't know what to tell you
#art#oc#yourenotsupposedtobehere#ynstbh#blender3d#he looks like he's about to start sonic says#devil says: mercury is 12 times sweeter than sugar and helps treat gastritis /j#actually there is some context. I was inspired by some animations in hylics#there's sth about this movement... i can stare forever..
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
Love Undying
#my art#my oc#dragon age#dragon age the veilguard#emmrich volkarin#tea aldwir#emmrich x rook#honestly yall veilguard is the most wholesome part of their story#I head canon Emmrich gets obsessed w the thought of tea dying earlier than him because she’s a warden#he goes downhill trying to figure out how to cure the blight and she gets more taken by her calling#I do think he eventually figures it out though!#the man helped make a knife comparable to solas’s#so methinks he could absolutely put his mind to modifying if not curing the blight#and eventually I think his obsession with mortality does end up in him figuring out demi lichdom#which probably causes problems with the other mourn watchers and lich lords that he and rook have to face together#with their baby! because tea gets pregnant right after veilguard hehehehe
5K notes
·
View notes