#diy divination tools

[aesethewitch]

Starting Yet Another creative project to put together my own oracle deck since the one I have is... I mean, it's alright. But I don't really vibe with the art or the card meanings as well as I'd like to. So obviously,,,, I gotta make my own huh.

Details under the cut for length because I'm rambling to myself as I flesh this idea out

I'm using this pad of smallish scrapbooking paper to make the cards since it's a thicker cardstock (and it has nice colors). I figure I'll sketch out my designs and then paint over them since this paper can handle paint without being destroyed. Perhaps a junk journal theme using my large collection of stickers.............

Undecided if I want to cut the papers own in size at all, since one of my main problems is that the oracle deck I have now is hard to shuffle due to card size. Which is... also my problem with most oracle decks, tbh. Scraps would be used for other projects and things. Smaller pages would also be easier to fill, using less materials and encouraging overlapping things for a fuller look.

The other issue with oracle decks is that they just don't vibe. The imagery is usually nice and all, but the cards themselves don't depict things that actually matter to me and my practice. Even if the theme matters or I like the art, there's always That One Card I just don't care for.

Oracle decks, to me, are meant to provide guidance rather than answers. Advice for next steps, inner strengths to draw on, or energetic focuses to improve or deal with a situation. They add color, context, and flavor to readings done with other cards. This deck will be no different. My goal is to create an oracle deck that specializes in general guidance and actionable advice in a broad sense.

As for theme... I mean, it makes sense to center it around The Lady, right? The ideals and imagery I associate with Her would be a good starting place, at least. Maybe a combination of symbols I look for in nature (transitory signals between seasons and parts of seasons) and the Lady's direct symbols.

A list of meanings......

The Lady - Fate as a force, the larger whole, direct message coming through

Yarn - Connections, weaving

Knots - Tying, making connections, fixed moments

Crossroads - Choices, split paths

Death - Change, endings

Mushrooms - Decay, afterlife, resilience

Bread - Creation, rising, hearth

Pen - Writing, creativity, keeping records

Book - History, learning, stories

Paint - Art, inspiration

Key - Opening doors, opportunity, answers

Lock - Secrets, blocked path, challenge, questions

Door - Passage, transition

Sea - Depth, tides, deep knowledge, mystery, movement (eternal)

River - Movement (fast), travel, change

Butterfly - Transformation, transition, trust, day

Moth - Transformation, transition, faith, night

Stars - Dreams, hope, wishes, stories

Void - Space, nothingness, in-between

Moon - Phases, visions, seeing in the dark

Clover - Luck, good fortune

Broken mirror - Bad luck, poor chances, mistakes

Dice - Chance, gambling, games

Playing cards (poker?) - Games, deception, skill

Spider/webs - Trap, sticky, pattern, weaving

Tarot - Divination, the future, advice

Seeds - Potential, sowing

Flowers - Growth, beauty, production, fleeting

Grave/headstone - Death, grief, memory

Candle - Ritual, altar

Lighthouse - Beacon, signs, lookout

Eyes - Knowing, seeing

Ghosts - Afterlife, spirits

Bees - Industry, teamwork

Sunrise/sunset - Beginnings, endings (the only reversible card?)

Leaves (different colors) - Changing seasons, time passing

......and probably more as I start putting these dang things together. Once they're finished, these cards will replace the ones I currently use for add-ons in paid readings. I'm looking forward to making these!!

[brightwitchbrews]

Why I LOVE my printable oracle decks 🥰

✨ Get them instantly! Decks are immediately downloadable with no shipping costs or delays. ✨ Stronger connection with my cards! A hand-crafted deck of cards encourages a deeper connection with the deck and card messages.

✨ Super easy to interpret! Card messages are printed directly on the cards for quick, easy to interpret personal insights. No need to memorise a complex system of card meanings, or break focus to consult a guidebook.

✨ Budget-friendly! Printable decks are cheaper than physical ones.

✨ Giftable! I can print unlimited copies for the price of one deck, making for a cheap papercraft gift with hand-made charm. ✨ Cheap and easy to replace! Damaged or worn cards can be easily reprinted. ✨ Eco-Friendly! No packing or materials waste with a shipped or plastic-wrapped product! Plus I can choose which deck elements to print, how much ink to use, and which type of paper to use. ~~~

Pictured is my oracle, Darkwood Dreaming, crafted specifically for shadow work and deep personal insight.

Cards feature absolutely gorgeous original digital artwork by Zack Castro @paintcapsule

🌙 SHOP: Shop printable oracle decks!

[mssalo]

dirty work

You just bought a new house that needed a lot of work. Luckily, your grumpy old neighbor was more than happy to fix everything—not because he was generous, but because it gave him an excuse to be close. To look. To stare. And you? Love the attention.

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, hotgirl!reader, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), nipple play (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, filthy dirty talk, desperate!Joel, pervy!Joel, pathetic!Joel, age gap, Joel being down bad, obsessive staring, possessiveness, mild power play, teasing, so much cum (like he literally can’t stop), Joel not having sex in decades and it shows, Hot girl reader knowing she's hot, Joel being completely ruined by your pussy, and you loving every second of it

11k. Enjoy!

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

The house needed work. And probably a priest.

It wasn’t falling apart, but it also wasn’t move-in ready.

The kitchen faucet screamed whenever you turned it on, wailing like it had unfinished business in this world. The porch stairs were one strong gust away from sending someone straight to the ER- or the grave. 

The back gate swung open on its own, which was either a poltergeist or just bad hinges, but either way, it sent an unsettling creak through the yard at odd hours of the night.

The lights flickered sometimes. The water pressure was unpredictable. The floors creaked loud enough to make you think twice before sneaking around in the dark.

But it was cheap. And it had potential.

And you?

You weren’t a DIY girlie, but you could figure shit out. Probably…. Maybe. 

You did have a certain level of misplaced confidence that made you think you could tackle anything with enough trial and error.

The problem was—so far, it had been mostly errors.

Your first attempt at fixing the faucet resulted in a flood that had you sprinting to turn the water off before your kitchen turned into a slip-and-slide.

Trying to replace a light fixture nearly ended with you electrocuting yourself into another dimension. 

And the less said about the unfortunate caulking incident of last Thursday, the better.

Still, you were determined. A little clueless? Sure. But determined.

You wiped sweat from your brow, standing in front of your latest challenge: the front door. It didn’t latch properly. It wasn’t quite crooked, but something was off. The hinges, maybe? You had no idea. 

You just knew that a strong wind could blow the damn thing off, which wasn’t ideal for your safety or your sanity.

So there you were, kneeling on the porch, staring at a pile of tools you weren’t entirely sure how to use, the manual open beside you like it was about to offer some divine intervention.

You twisted the screwdriver in your hand, frowning at the misaligned screws. “Alright, bitch,” you muttered to the door, rolling your shoulders. “Let’s do this.”

And that was when a shadow fell over you.

A heavy presence.

You turned, blinking up at the broad figure standing at the foot of your porch.

Joel Miller.

Your neighbor. Big, built, silent as the grave. Old as fuck.

You’d seen him around—on his porch, smoking, reading the newspaper, doing old people things and watching. Always watching.

Never introduced himself. Never waved. Never made an effort. Just sat there, arms crossed over his chest, eyes unreadable, watching the world pass him by.

Watching you.

At first, you thought it was your imagination. A trick of the heat, the way his dark eyes always seemed to linger just a little too long before darting away. But then, as the weeks passed, you realized it wasn’t just some coincidence.

Joel Miller was looking. A lot.

From behind the safety of his porch, through his truck window when he pulled into the driveway, stealing glances while pretending to tinker with something outside—he was always looking.

He wasn’t the type to catcall or whistle or let his jaw drop like some dumb, desperate idiot. No, but he did openly watch, with that brooding, set-jaw expression, like a man standing at the edge of a cliff, fighting the urge to jump.

A man seeing something he wanted—something he knew he couldn’t have.

And, honestly? It was kinda hot.

You love a pathetic man.

Pathetic in the way only a man like him could be- big and strong and old enough to know better, yet still sitting on his porch like some clueless teenager, hopelessly caught in your orbit.

Joel had spent his entire life working.

Calloused hands. Aching back. A routine as grey and dull as the pavement he walked on. He wasn’t a talk-to-women kind of guy. He was a build-shit-and-keep-his-mouth-shut kind of guy.

He had probably spent years without even thinking about sex. Not because he didn’t want it—fuck, of course, he did—but because who the hell would even let him?

The man was a relic.

Pushing sixty. Grumpy. Built like a man who had done nothing but work his whole life—because that’s exactly what he had done.

No wife. No girlfriend. Nothing.

He didn’t flirt. Didn’t go out. Didn’t fucking bother.

Just work, fix, sleep. Get off when he needed to—always alone, always quick, no one to fucking hear him.

That was life.

And then you moved in next door.

And Joel broke.

Because Jesus Christ.

You.

Soft and sweet and fucking perfect—so young, so pretty, so effortlessly sexy.

You weren’t just beautiful. You were something else entirely.

Something cruel.

With your tiny little skirts and tight little tops, walking around like it wasn’t a goddamn crime to be that fucking perfect.

Joel shouldn’t have been looking.

Knew he shouldn’t memorize the way your tits bounced when you jogged past his house.

Shouldn’t have let himself watch the way you stretched on the porch, or walked in those obscene little shorts, or sunbathed out back with your top straps pulled down—looking so fucking soft, like you were made to be touched.

Made to be ruined.

It was sick.

And he didn’t care.

Because at night, when his house was quiet and the only thing in his bed was his own hand, Joel let himself imagine what it would be like to pull you onto his lap or spread you open, bury his face between your thighs and never fucking leave.

To get his mouth on you.

God, he was so hungry for it.

And the worst part?

He was pretty sure you knew.

It was pathetic.

And he fucking knew it.

But he couldn’t stop.

And right now, his gaze was locked on you.

Or, more accurately—your thighs.

You were still kneeling, skin glistening in the summer heat, your tiny skirt barely covering anything. Joel looked like a man who had just seen God.

His throat bobbed.

His fingers flexed.

Then, abruptly—his eyes snapped up.

“Need a hand?” His voice was rough, all gravel and rust.

You tilted your head, dragging your gaze over him.

You smirked.

“I got it,” you said simply.

Joel didn’t move.

Didn’t even blink.

“…No, you don’t.”

And before you could argue, he was stepping forward.

Taking the screwdriver right out of your hand.

And just fucking fixing it.

Like it was nothing.

Like you weren’t even there.

· · ──𖥸

From that day on, Joel… kinda never left.

Not literally. Not in a way that you could call him out on.

But he was always there.

At first, it was little things. Fixing what you couldn’t. Offering a hand when you were clearly struggling. Showing up at the exact right time, tools in hand, that furrow between his brows like you’d personally offended him by even attempting to fix something yourself.

Then, it escalated.

Because you didn’t even have to ask anymore.

He was just there.

On your porch. In your yard. Pretending to check something in his truck but really just looking at you while you stretched in the morning, your tight little tank clinging to every inch of you.

The excuses started getting thinner, too.

At first, it was, “Saw the porch light flickerin’. Just figured I’d fix it before it got worse.”

Then, it became, “Just keepin’ busy.”

Then, no excuse at all.

Just Joel, lingering around your property, finding any reason to be near you, any reason to work himself into a sweat just for the chance to look at you up close.

Because that was his payment.

His reward.

Every little smile, every little laugh. The way your tits moved when you pointed at something needed fixing. The way you stretched just right, your little skirts and shorts riding up, flashing soft, smooth skin that made Joel’s head spin.

He didn’t even need you to talk to him.

Didn’t need you to flirt.

Just existing was enough.

So he worked.

For free.

Because what the fuck else was he supposed to do?

You made him feel like some pathetic old pervert.

Standing around like a useless extra in the movie that was your perfect fucking life.

A washed-up, near-sixty-year-old loser with a bad back, a lonely house, and a dick that hadn’t worked properly in years.

And now?

Now, he nearly was hard all the time.

No blue pills. No coaxing. No thinking about some old porn magazine he had tucked away for emergencies.

Just your voice, your body, the way you smelled, the way you looked at him when you handed him a lemonade like he was doing something special—when all he was doing was fixing your fucking sink.

And the worst part?

He was leaking.

Like a damn teenager.

Hadn’t been this sensitive in decades.

And yet, here he was—barely keeping it together, feeling the way his cock throbbed and ached, fucking dripped inside his jeans while you leaned in, smiling, teasing—

“Thank you, Joel!”

Fuck.

That voice.

All sweet and grateful and warm, and it was fucking nothing. Just three little words.

And yet, his whole body reacted like you had just whispered something filthy in his ear.

Like you had just gotten on your knees, licked your lips, and told him

Sit back, Joel. Let me take care of you.

God, he was fucked.

So he mowed your lawn.

Fixed your AC unit.

Made sure the fence was latched, the gate was locked, the pipes weren’t leakin’.

And when he wasn’t fixing shit inside?

He was finding things to do outside.

Hammering shit that didn’t need hammering.

Cleaning tools that weren’t even his.

Anything. Anything.

Just to be there.

· · ──𖥸

Joel looked wrecked.

Sweat darkened the collar of his shirt, his broad shoulders sagging as he finally took a seat at the kitchen table he had just fixed for you.

His hands were rough and calloused, veins prominent, fingers flexing against the cool surface as he exhaled, deep and slow. He looked exhausted, the kind of exhaustion that clung to a man who had spent the whole day pushing his body to the limit.

And yet, even now, after hours of working himself to the bone, he was still staring.

Not at the food you’d set down in front of him, not at the cold glass of iced tea dripping condensation onto the table, not even at his own aching hands that had spent all damn day making sure every little thing in your house was perfect.

He was staring at your tits.

You noticed it immediately, of course. How could you not? Joel wasn’t exactly subtle.

His dark, hungry gaze stayed fixed on your chest, drinking in the way your tank top clung to you, damp with heat, the fabric just a little too thin, a little too low. His hands twitched every so often, like he had to physically stop himself from reaching out.

He barely responded when you spoke, offering little more than a grunt here and there, a slow nod, an occasional hum of acknowledgment. Not because he wasn’t listening, but because he was completely fucking gone.

And you?

You smirked.

Because this wasn’t new.

Joel Miller had been looking at you like this for weeks now, like a starving man watching a meal just out of reach, a man standing in the desert watching water slip through his fingers.

And he thought he was hiding it.

He wasn’t.

You leaned forward slightly, trailing a finger through the condensation on your glass, watching his Adam’s apple bob when his eyes immediately flicked down again, drawn like a magnet.

You waited. Let it stew. Let the tension stretch thick and heavy between you until you could practically hear the way he was grinding his teeth together, working his jaw, trying to think of something—anything—other than the way your tits were right there.

Then, casually, you spoke.

“You’re not exactly subtle, you know.”

Joel didn’t move at first.

Didn’t even seem to register your words right away.

Just blinked, slow and dazed, before finally dragging his gaze back up to your face, blinking again, like he had just been pulled out of something deep.

“…Huh?”

His voice was thick, rough like gravel, his fingers flexing again before clenching into loose fists.

You tilted your head slightly, letting your gaze flick down to your own chest, then back up to him, pointedly.

“You like ’em?”

For a moment, Joel just sat there.

Silent.

Completely fucking still.

Then, finally, he exhaled. A slow, measured breath, dragging a hand down his face like he was collecting himself, trying to piece together a response that didn’t immediately give him away.

And then, voice lower, rougher, wrecked—

“…What’s there not to like?”

Oh?

That shouldn’t have affected you the way it did.

But it did.

The way he said it, low and warm and dripping with something dark, something dangerous. The way he looked at you when he said it, like he was memorizing every inch of you, like he needed to burn the sight into his brain.

A slow heat unfurled low in your belly, sinking between your thighs, pooling thick and molten as you shifted in your seat, pressing your legs together, suddenly very aware of how wet you were getting.

And Joel knew it.

Because his eyes flicked down for a split second, watching the way you shifted, the way your breath caught ever so slightly, and his fingers clenched tighter against the table.

And then, voice slow, teasing, stretching out the moment—

“Hmmm.”

You tapped a finger against your chin, watching the way his dark eyes tracked your movements, like he couldn’t help it, like he had no control over the way his body responded to you.

And then, soft and syrupy—

“You know, Joel… I feel kinda bad.”

Joel didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t breathe.

Just stared.

You watched the slow, deliberate way he swallowed, the way his whole body seemed to tense under the weight of those words, the muscles in his arms flexing as his fingers curled against the table.

“…Bad?”

His voice was barely above a whisper.

“For letting you do all this work without paying you back.”

There was a beat of silence.

Joel’s fingers flexed. His breath stuttered, sharp and uneven. You could see the battle happening in his head—his morals, his age, the voice in his head screaming this is wrong, you’re too old, don’t do this��

And yet.

When he spoke, it was wrecked.

“…Can I just—”

Joel swallowed hard.

His voice dropped lower, raspier, barely even a sound.

“Can I just see you? Look at you?”

The words sent a jolt of something electric through you, made your skin heat, your pulse quicken, made that molten heat in your belly throb.

You smiled. Slow. Sweet.

Cruel.

"You wanna see me, Joel?"

His breath hitched.

His fingers twitched.

He nodded, almost absently, his mouth falling open, chest rising and falling in deep, uneven breaths.

You dragged your nails lightly up your stomach, over your ribs, the movement subtle, slow, making him watch.

Your hands went to the hem of your tank top, your fingers curling around the fabric, slowly dragging it up.

Joel’s pupils blew wide.

His lips parted.

His breath hitched.

And when you pulled it over your head, letting it drop to the floor, you saw it.

The way his fingers clenched so hard around the edge of the table that his knuckles went white, like he needed to physically hold himself back.

You sat there in just your bra, running your hands up your stomach, over your ribs, tilting your head slightly as you murmured—

“Like this?”

Joel made a noise that was almost a groan, almost a curse, a low, strangled thing that caught in his throat as his eyes devoured you.

He swallowed again, hard, blinking like he was trying to process what was happening.

Then—rough, hoarse, desperate—

“…Please. Everything.”

So you did.

You reached behind you, undoing the clasp of your bra with a slow, deliberate flick of your fingers, letting the straps slip down your arms before shrugging it off completely.

And Joel lost the last shred of restraint he had.

His breath hitched—a sharp, audible inhale, like he had just been punched in the gut.

His eyes dropped from your eyes instantly, dragged down like they had no choice, like the second your tits were bare, he was physically incapable of looking anywhere else.

And fuck.

The sound that tore from his throat was something low, deep, filthy— not even a real word, just a groan, guttural and needy, his lips parting, his tongue darting out, his whole fucking body reacting like he was a man who had been starving his whole goddamn life, and now?

Now he was looking at the best fucking meal he’d ever seen.

Because Jesus Christ.

Your tits?

They were perfect.

So fucking full and soft, high and round, plump little handfuls of heaven that he’d been imagining for weeks, and now? Now they were right there.

And your nipples—fuck.

They were already hard, tight little peaks sitting pretty, puckered and aching, begging for something—a touch, a mouth, something wet and warm.

They looked so fucking sweet, like they’d feel so soft, like they’d taste so good on his tongue.

Joel groaned.

A rough, heavy sound, his jaw clenching so fucking hard it was a miracle his teeth didn’t crack, his entire body tensing like it physically hurt him to just sit there and look and not touch.

And then, voice wrecked, strained, barely even a whisper—

“Best goddamn tits I’ve ever seen.”

You smirked, slow and teasing, shifting slightly, making them bounce just a little, the movement so subtle, but his whole body jerked.

“Yeah?”

Joel grunted, a deep, broken noise, his breath stuttering, his fingers flexing.

“Yeah.”

His lips parted slightly, his chest rising and falling with heavy, uneven breaths.

His hips shifted.

And you noticed.

The way his jeans were tight.

The way a wet patch darkened the denim.

The way his entire body looked like it was straining under the weight of his own need.

And then, voice breaking, groaning—

“Thank you, Sweetheart.”

Your breath caught.

Because that?

That sounded filthy.

Low, wrecked, grateful.

Like just seeing you was some kind of mercy.

His thighs tensed. His hands twitched. His eyes stayed locked on you, burning, devouring, drowning.

You dragged your hands up your own stomach, slow and lazy, brushing your fingers over the soft curves of your breasts, rolling your thumbs over your hardened nipples, smirking when you heard his breath hitch.

“You wanna touch ‘em, Joel?” you murmured, soft and syrupy, voice dipped in honey.

Joel groaned, deep and guttural, like the question alone was enough to wreck him.

“Fuck yeah.”

He didn’t wait for permission.

Didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t fucking think.

His hands were on you before the words even fully left his mouth—grabbing, groping, squeezing like he was starving for it, like he’d been fantasizing about this for so long that the second he finally had them in his palms, he lost every ounce of restraint.

And Jesus fuck, his hands were big.

Rough.

Strong.

Decades of hard labor carved into every thick callus, every flex of his fingers, every hungry, greedy, desperate grab.

“Fuck, babygirl,” he muttered, voice wrecked, almost dazed as he kneaded your tits, rolling them in his palms, squeezing like he needed to memorize the way they felt—like he’d never get this chance again.

He groaned, deep and filthy, fingers digging in, rough fingertips brushing over your stiff nipples, making you suck in a sharp breath as heat licked through your veins.

“So fuckin’ soft,” he rasped, thumbing over the tight little peaks, watching the way your body reacted to him, your back arching, breath hitching.

Joel felt that.

“Feel good, baby?” he rasped, voice a low, guttural thing, dragging his calloused fingers over your nipples again, rubbing slow, deliberate circles, watching your reaction like a starving man watching a meal.

You swallowed hard, a shiver running through you, your thighs pressing together. Fuck.

Your nipples were so sensitive, tingling with every swipe, every flick, every dirty little touch of his rough fingers.

“Yeah,” you breathed, biting your lip, arching into his touch, letting him take what he wanted.

Joel groaned again, deep and needy, gripping your tits harder, pushing them together, squeezing, kneading, fucking obsessed.

His thumbs twisted your nipples, slow and deliberate, watching the way they hardened even further, standing up all soft and pink, looking so fucking suckable.

“Jesus,” he muttered again, voice dropping lower, rougher. “Look at these pretty tits.”

His fingers pinched, tugged, twisted just right—just enough to make you gasp, a soft little sound that sent a lightning bolt of pure fucking need straight to his cock.

He grinned.

A dark, hungry thing.

And then, voice gritted, thick with lust—

“Bet they taste even better.”

“Can I-”

Before he could even finish asking, you were already shushing him, already threading your fingers into his graying hair and pulling his face down, guiding him straight to where he belonged.

Joel went willingly.

Mouth first.

No hesitation. No second-guessing.

Joel yanked you into his lap, gripping you like you might disappear, like this was a dream he’d wake up from if he let go for even a second.

His knees ached against the floor, his back twinged in warning, but he didn’t give a fuck. Not when you were straddling him, warm and soft, tits in his face like some fucking gift from God.

His mouth sealed over your nipple, pulling at it with an obscene, wet suckle, tongue flattening before flicking, rolling, teasing the sensitive bud until it was aching, stiff, raw.

Just a wrecked, filthy groan, muffled against your soft, warm skin as he was sucking deep, sucking hard, sucking wet.

“Fuck yes,” he moaned into your skin, voice ragged, his breath hot and heavy against your breast.

He was loud.

Not in words—because words didn’t matter anymore.

But in the way he suckled, the way his lips sealed tight, how he groaned and slurped and moaned, every single sound of his mouth on you wet and obscene, filling the space around you.

His tongue swiped up, then down, then circled—slow at first, then faster, flicking against the stiff bud before pulling it into his mouth again, sealing his lips tight, sucking deep.

He couldn’t stop.

Didn’t even try.

His hands moved next, big, calloused fingers gripping your waist, dragging you closer, then sliding up to cup both tits in his palms, rough and desperate. 

“Oh—fuck, Joel—” your breath hitched, the sharp pull of his mouth sending a jolt straight between your thighs.

He groaned—deep, guttural, filthy.

“Goddamn, baby—”

Then, harder.

His fingers squeezed tighter, thumbs brushing over your nipples, pinching the one he wasn’t sucking on, rolling it between his fingertips, tugging just enough to make you gasp.

You felt his breath stutter—like he was about to lose it completely—before he pulled off with a wet, sucking pop, spit connecting his lips to your nipple, slick and shining.

He stared.

Breathing ragged. Eyes dark, starving.

And then he dived right back in.

Latching onto the other like a man possessed, groaning into it like he was trying to drink from you, ruin you, consume you.

His hands never stopped.

He hugged you closer, pulling you right into him, pressing your tits together, mashing them up against his face, smothering himself in them.

“So fuckin’ soft, baby—” he rasped, licking, suckling, tongue dragging slow circles around your nipple before he sealed his lips and sucked deep again.

“So fuckin’ sweet—”

He switched between them like he couldn’t pick a favorite, couldn’t decide, couldn’t stop.

His tongue flicked, his lips sucked, his teeth grazed, sending shocks of pleasure straight between your legs.

Your breath hitched.

Your back arched.

Because he wasn’t just playing around.

This wasn’t just teasing.

This wasn’t some guy mouthing at your tits before moving on.

No.

Joel was staying here.

Lingering.

Drowning in it.

Like he could suckle your tits for hours.

And then, voice low, gravelly, wrecked—

“Baby…”

You hummed, already smirking.

He swallowed thickly, his fingers tracing absent circles against your ribs, his voice barely above a whisper—

“Lemme see you.”

Your smirk widened.

“See what, Joel?”

He groaned, head dropping against your shoulder for half a second like he physically needed to collect himself. His nose brushed along your jaw, leaving small kisses, hot breath fanning against your skin, and then—

“Sweetheart, please,” he rasped. “Lemme see that pretty little pussy.”

Your stomach tightened, heat flaring low, but you didn’t let it show. Not yet.

Instead, you stretched, slow and indulgent, arching just slightly, your tits pushing up against his chest. “Hmmm,” you mused, tapping a manicured nail against your lip like you were actually considering it. “You worked so hard for me, didn't you, Joel?”

His jaw flexed. His hands slid down, gripping your thighs, squeezing.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he rasped. “Don’t tease me like this.”

You tilted your head, tapping your chin, dragging it out just a little longer—watching the way his fingers twitched, watching the way his pupils were blown black with hunger, watching the way his hips barely resisted the urge to rut up against you like he needed something, anything.

Then, finally, you sighed.

“Alright, old man,” you murmured, shifting in his lap, the movement making him groan. “Take me to the couch.”

Joel nearly fucking growled.

His arms came around you instantly, strong, needy, hands gripping your thighs as he lifted you. Not struggling, not even hesitating—because fuck if you thought he was too old for this, fuck if you thought he wouldn’t show you exactly what he could do.

He laid you down like you were something delicate, something precious, his hands sliding over your body, down your sides, gripping your thighs, spreading you open just enough.

And then—his fingers curled into the fabric of your skirt.

Not pulling it down.

Just flipping it up.

Joel wasn’t breathing.

At least, it felt that way.

He couldn’t. Not with the way you were spread out in front of him, thighs parted, panties soaked, looking like the filthiest, prettiest fucking thing he’d ever seen in his goddamn life.

And the worst part?

You knew exactly what you were doing to him.

The way you stretched lazily, arching just a little, making your tits push forward. The way your lips curled in that slow, knowing smirk when you caught him staring, like you were indulging him, letting him look, letting him take in every fucking inch of you.

And Joel—Joel was gone.

His hands slid up your thighs, slow, reverent, rough fingertips dragging against soft skin, feeling the heat radiating off you.

“Jesus fuck,” he muttered, his voice low, dark, almost reverent.

Joel dragged his tongue over his bottom lip, gaze locked on the damp spot between your legs, so fucking dark, so fucking pretty.

His thumbs traced along the edges of your panties, brushing just barely over the damp patch at the center, groaning when he felt the way it stuck to you.

“So goddamn wet,” he murmured, almost to himself, shaking his head, his fingers flexing against your skin. “Been like this all night, little girl?”

You moaned, shifting slightly, watching the way his jaw clenched at the movement.

“Maybe,” you teased. “Not my fault you’ve been looking at me like that all day.”

Joel exhaled sharply, a low, ragged sound, his grip tightening.

Poor old man.

He was completely fucking gone.

“See something you like?” you teased, voice sweet, syrupy, making his jaw clench.

Joel exhaled through his nose, hands tightening where they rested on your thighs, fingers pressing in deep, like he needed to hold onto something, ground himself before he completely lost control.

“Baby,” he muttered, shaking his head, voice low and rough, thick with something desperate. “You’re fuckin’ evil.”

You laughed, slow and taunting, your nails dragging up the couch, watching the way his entire body tensed, like he was on the verge of snapping, like he was barely holding himself together.

“Am I?” you mused, tilting your head, watching him watch you.

Joel groaned, deep and guttural, his grip bruising now, his breath shuddering, his hips twitching like just the words alone were enough to ruin him.

And then—

He leaned in.

Pressed his face against your covered cunt, breathing deep, dragging his nose over the soaked fabric, his entire body shuddering, shaking, gripping you like you might disappear if he let go.

And fuck.

He moaned.

You smirked. Moaned.

Because you knew.

Knew exactly what kind of power you had over him. Knew that Joel Miller—this gruff, brooding old man who barely spoke to anyone, who’d spent his life working, fixing, existing—was utterly wrecked over you.

And right now, he was on his knees, rubbing his face against your soaked panties, inhaling like the scent of your cunt was the only thing keeping him alive.

You loved it.

“Mm, you really like it down there, huh?” You moaned dragging your nails through his hair, watching the way his whole body twitched, the way he groaned against you, his nose pressing harder into the damp fabric covering your pussy.

Joel barely lifted his head, just enough to look at you, eyes so dark they were nearly black, lips slick with his own spit. His fingers flexed against your thighs like he was fighting himself—like he wanted to tear those panties off and bury himself in you, but he was holding back.

Barely.

“Like?” he rasped, voice wrecked. His tongue darted out, swiping over his bottom lip, like he was tasting the scent of you in the air.

He groaned.

“Pretty girl, I’m fuckin’ obsessed.”

You moaned. Tilting your hips just slightly, pressing up into his face, watching the way his eyes fluttered, the way his breath stuttered like just feeling your heat against his lips was too much.

“Oh yeah?” Your fingers tightened in his hair, tugging. “Then show me.”

Joel didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t think.

Didn’t breathe.

He just acted.

His hands shot up, gripping the waistband of your panties, and for a second, you thought he was going to rip them off you. But no—Joel was feeling something nastier.

Instead, he grabbed the soaked fabric, pulled it tight against your cunt, wedging it between your slick folds, pressing the thin material right into your aching clit.

You gasped.

“Ohhh, fuck—”

Joel groaned, a deep, filthy sound from the pit of his chest as he rubbed the fabric against you, slow at first, then harder, pressing it between your lips, letting the damp, sticky material drag over your throbbing clit.

His nose dragged over the outline of your swollen pussy, mouth parted, tongue slipping out to taste the wet spot directly over your entrance, groaning like it was the best thing he’d ever fucking put in his mouth.

“Jesus fuck,” he growled. “S’soaked, girl. Look at this fuckin’ mess. You see this?” He rubbed the fabric in deeper, groaning at the way it stuck to your folds, the way your slick smeared against it, making it wetter, stickier.

You moaned, hips rolling, pushing against his mouth, chasing the friction.

“Joel—”

He growled again, gripping your thighs tight, keeping you spread as he bit down gently on the covered part of your clit, tugging with his teeth, rolling it between them through the fabric.

You gasped.

Your back arched, hands flying to the couch, gripping the cushions for some kind of grounding because—holy fuck.

Joel chuckled. Chuckled. A deep, perverse sound.

“Ohh, you like that, hm?”

He pressed his tongue flat against your clit through your panties, sucking at the damp fabric, like he was trying to drink you through it, humming like he could taste you, even with the barrier in the way.

Then—

His teeth latched onto the thin cotton, gripping the wet spot over your entrance, and he pulled.

A sharp, precise tug.

Dragging the panties against your cunt, making them slide against your soaked folds, pressing them deeper, wedging them between your swollen lips, rubbing everything.

You fucking whimpered.

Joel moaned against you, rutting his hips against the couch, pressing his nose right against your slit, inhaling, sucking, rubbing his face all over your cunt like a man starved.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, nuzzling you, his voice dripping with filth. “Pussy’s so fuckin’ warm, baby. So fuckin’ messy. Leakin’ all over these little panties—bet they’re ruined, huh?”

Your thighs shook. Your breath stuttered.

Your fingers curled tight in his hair, tugging, and he moaned again, loud, tongue slipping out to drag slow, wet strokes over the damp fabric, gathering everything before pressing it back against your cunt, making you feel how fucking messy you were.

His hands—those big, rough, work-worn hands—slid up your thighs, spreading you wider, holding you open, thumbs pressing into your soft skin as he finally, finally hooked his fingers into your panties and peeled them off.

He groaned when they stuck.

When your slick clung to the fabric.

When he had to drag them down your legs because they were soaked.

And then—

You were bare.

Wet.

Dripping.

All for him.

Joel sat back on his heels, staring.

His fingers flexed, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, shaking his head, voice deep and wrecked.

Then, dark eyes flicking up to yours, a slow, filthy grin stretching across his face—

“Oh, baby…” He groaned.

“I’m gonna ruin you.”

His voice was a wreck, almost a whisper, full of awe, full of filth, full of something desperate and hungry.

Because you were fucking perfect.

Your pussy was obscene.

Pink and swollen and glistening, folds spread, sticky and slick, so wet you were practically dripping onto the couch. 

Your clit—puffy, throbbing—begging for attention, twitching every time Joel’s hot breath ghosted over you. 

The dim light caught on the shine of your arousal, making everything look impossibly wet, messy, fucking ruined.

And Joel?

Joel was losing his goddamn mind.

His breath hitched, a low, wrecked groan ripping from his chest, his fingers flexing hard against your thighs, like he was physically restraining himself from lunging forward and devouring you whole.

“Fuck me.” His voice came out rough, strangled, barely even a whisper. “Look at that messy little pussy. S’so fuckin’ wet for me, baby.”

You hummed, stretching out against the couch like you had all the time in the world, arching just slightly making your tits look so good, making yourself even softer, even easier, even more of a temptation.

“Yeah?” Your voice was all gasped, all teasing, your hips rolling up just a little, just enough to make the slick between your thighs glisten in the low light. “You like her, Joel?”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, jaw clenching, nostrils flaring, eyes blown dark and wide, locked on your cunt like it was hypnotizing him, pulling him under.

He let out a rough, humorless laugh, shaking his head, squeezing your thighs just a little tighter. “Baby, I’ll never let go of her.”

That smirk stretched slow across your lips, your thighs parting just a little more, an open invitation, a silent dare.

Joel groaned—deep, guttural, painful.

And then he snapped.

His big, rough hands grabbed you, dragging you down the couch with no warning, tugging you toward him until your ass was hanging off the edge, his broad shoulders wedged between your thighs, his face—his mouth—right where he wanted it.

And then—

A long, wet, messy lick.

Tongue flat, broad, dragging over your slit, catching every drop of slick, lapping it up, his nose bumping against your mound, his groan muffled as he tasted you.

And Jesus fuck—he growled.

“Goddamn, baby… this sloppy little pussy.” His voice was hot against your skin, his tongue flicking out to catch another drop of arousal, swallowing it down, his thumbs spreading you open even wider. “Fuckin’ drippin’ all over my face.”

You whined, hips bucking, but Joel’s grip slammed you back down.

“Uh-uh,” he rasped, dragging his tongue up again, circling your clit, teasing, groaning loud like he was tasting something sinful, something addictive, something he was never gonna get enough of.

His lips wrapped around the swollen bud, pulling it into his mouth, sucking, his tongue flicking, his nose buried against your mound, his face pressed so deep in your pussy he was fucking drowning.

And he loved it.

You were soaked.

Dripping.

And Joel wanted it.

Wanted every drop.

His tongue licked into you, fucking inside, groaning loud when he felt your walls clench, sucking your juices from his own tongue like he was drinking you, like you were feeding him.

And fuck—

His hips rutted against the couch, grinding, his cock straining against his jeans, so fucking wet, his pre-cum soaking through, his whole body wound tight like he could come just like this, just from eating you, from tasting you, from hearing the little broken whimpers spilling from your lips.

His fingers dug in deeper, pressing into the softness of your thighs, spreading you wider, pulling you closer, burying his tongue so deep inside you it made your eyes roll back.

And then—

A rough, growled, wrecked—

“Goddamn, baby. Gonna fuckin’ stay down here.”

Joel was gone.

Buried between your thighs, tongue fucking into you like a starving man, like this was what he was made to do.

And fuck, maybe he was.

Because he was too good at it.

You moaned, dragging a hand through his hair, pulling, loving the way he groaned, the way his hips rutted harder against the couch, the way he needed this.

“Fuck, Joel,” you panted, voice thick with pleasure.

Joel growled.

He actually fucking growled, pulling you closer, spreading you wider, licking into you deeper, his tongue flicking, curling, sucking, his whole body shaking with the effort of holding himself back from humping the fucking couch like some desperate, pathetic thing.

And then—

Joel spat on it.

A wet, messy, lewd spit, right over your swollen clit.

And then?

He rubbed his face into it.

Like some depraved old pervert, moaning as he smothered himself with your slick, nuzzling into it, smearing his own spit and your arousal all over his lips, his chin, his nose .. damn nearly up to his forehead. 

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, breath hot, words slurred against your swollen folds. “Smell so fuckin’ good, baby. Taste even fuckin’ better.”

His tongue swiped over your clit, broad and firm, lapping at it like he was fucking thirsty, groaning when he felt you pulse, when he felt your thighs tremble.

He spat on it again.

And smeared it in.

Dragged his tongue through the mess, licking his own spit off your cunt like he was cleaning you up.

And fuck.

It sent a shock of pleasure straight through your body, a sharp, hot jolt that made your back arch, your mouth dropping open in a broken moan.

“Fuck, Joel,” you gasped, fingers tightening in his hair. “I—I’m gonna—”

Joel knew.

Knew you were close, knew he had you teetering, knew you were about to fucking snap.

So he latched onto your clit, sucking, moaning, filthy and loud, his fingers bruising into your thighs, holding you open, keeping you still, forcing you to take it.

And when you came—

Oh, fuck, when you came.

Your body jerked, legs trembling, the orgasm hitting you so hard it stole the breath from your lungs, your vision going white, your whole body clenching around the pleasure, drowning in it.

And Joel?

Joel groaned.

Like he felt it.

Like your orgasm belonged to him.

Like he had just come from tasting you, from making you come, from hearing you cry out his name.

And he didn’t stop.

Didn’t fucking stop.

Kept licking. Kept sucking. Kept fucking devouring, his tongue flicking over your oversensitive clit, dragging out every last aftershock, keeping you on the edge, keeping you throbbing.

And you—

You were shaking.

Body weak, legs useless, cunt aching for something more.

“Joel,” you gasped, breathless, still trembling. “I—I want your cock.”

And Joel?

He didn’t hear you.

Didn’t process it.

Because he was lost.

Lost in your pussy, lost in the taste, lost in the way you fucking shook for him.

His tongue dragged through the mess, lapping up every drop, swallowing you down like you were something precious, something he couldn’t afford to waste.

So you tried again.

“Joel,” you panted, tugging at his hair, trying to get his attention. “I want your—”

And he still didn’t listen.

Just kept licking. Kept sucking. Kept moaning against your cunt like he was starved.

So you had to rip his face away.

Fisting your hands in his hair, pulling him back, making him look up at you—

And fuck.

His face.

Wet. Slick. Lips swollen, chin shining, pupils blown.

And his mouth—

His mouth was fucking open, his tongue still flicking like he was trying to find you, like he was looking for your pussy, like he was about to dive right back in.

He was panting, breath heavy, wrecked, like he had just fucked you, like he was the one who had just come.

And then—

A low, desperate, ruined—

“Baby, please.”

Like he needed it.

Like he needed to go back.

Like he wasn’t done yet.

The smell of you. The taste of you. The way you squirmed and moaned, your fingers sinking into his hair, giving the softest little tugs that made his cock throb.

You hummed, dragging your nails lightly against his scalp. “You gonna stay down there all night, handsome?”

Joel groaned against your thigh, his fingers tightening where they gripped your hips.

“Would if you’d let me,” he muttered, voice rough and muffled.

You laughed, breathy and teasing. “Well…” You tugged gently at his hair, tilting his head back slightly, forcing him to look up at you. “Maybe I want something else tonight.”

Joel’s head spun.

His stomach clenched, heat coiling low, thick and heavy in his gut.

Because you couldn’t possibly mean—

“Maybe,” you mused, trailing your fingers down his face, smirking. “You should fuck me instead.”

Joel went completely fucking still.

A full-body freeze.

Because, holy shit.

He hadn’t even considered it.

He hadn’t dared to.

Had been so caught up in this—this ritual, this worship, this sick fucking devotion of getting to lose himself between your thighs, mouth greedy and desperate, tongue messy and unrelenting—he hadn’t let himself imagine it going further.

Hadn’t even let himself hope for it.

But now?

Now, you were looking at him with those big, bright eyes, your lips curled in something teasing and wicked, your fingers trailing down his chest, and fuck.

It hit him.

Like a fucking freight train.

He was gonna fuck you.

Joel groaned, his head falling forward against your stomach, breath heavy, body shaking as his hands gripped your thighs, squeezing so tight it bordered on bruising.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, more to himself than you. “Fuck. Baby.”

You grinned, delighted. “Yeah?”

Joel swallowed, lifting his head, his gaze burning as he looked up at you.

“Yeah.”

His voice was rough, wrecked.

“Then get up here, old man,” you purred, tugging at his shoulders. “Come fuck me.”

And, fuck, he was gonna.

Somehow, he managed to kneel between your legs, looming over you, broad and heavy and burning with something filthy and desperate.

Somehow, he managed to unbuckle his belt, yank his zipper down, pull himself free—

You hadn’t expected this.

Hadn’t expected him to be this thick.

Because, fuck me.

Joel Miller was fucking big.

The way his cock twitched the second the cool air hit it, sending a slow, heavy bead of precome dripping down—hot and sticky, landing right on your stomach.

God.

Your breath hitched, your thighs twitching where they were still spread open for him, aching.

And Joel?

He was just watching.

Watching that glistening drop smear against your skin, dragging his fist slow along his length, squeezing at the base, like he was trying to calm himself down.

Not that it was working.

Because he was dripping.

Leaking all over you, precum slick and thick, dribbling down the fat head of his cock, smearing over the tip as he worked himself, his jaw clenched tight, breathing heavy.

His cock was—fuck.

Thick. So fucking thick.

Broad, heavy in his palm, his shaft veined and throbbing, dark with need, his swollen head gleaming wet under the dim light.

A thick trail of silver and black hair led down from his stomach, curling around the base—graying just like the rest of him, salt-and-pepper in a way that made your stomach tighten.

And his balls.

Heavy and full, hanging low, tight and aching with neglect, pulled up just slightly, like his body was already fighting to hold off the inevitable.

And Joel—Joel was losing his fucking mind.

Because fuck.

Your soft, pretty body sprawled out beneath him, tits still sticky from his mouth, your stomach slick with the mess he was dripping all over you, your thighs spread open, that sweet, soaked pussy waiting for him—his cock.

He groaned, low and ruined, watching another thick bead of precum slip from the head, drooling down his shaft, slicking up his fingers.

He couldn’t stop leaking.

Couldn’t stop fucking twitching, pulsing in his own grip, so hard it was almost painful.

His body was betraying him.

Decades of needing, decades of nothing, and now?

Now he was about to lose it over just this.

Just you, looking up at him like that.

Smiling sweetly like you fucking knew.

Like you knew exactly what you were doing to him.

Joel groaned, watching your expression shift, watching your eyes flick down to where he was gripping himself, your lips parting just slightly, breath hitching.

And fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest fucking thing he’d ever seen.

He smirked. Just a little.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Ain’t gettin’ shy on me now, are ya?”

You dragged your gaze back up to his, grinning lazily, voice smooth and teasing. “Nah, just thinking.”

Joel raised a brow, cocking his head. “Yeah? ’Bout what?”

Your lips curled.

“How the hell this thing’s gonna fit inside me.”

Joel growled.

A deep, guttural, feral fucking sound, his grip tightening around his cock, his other hand gripping your thigh, yanking you closer.

You giggled, delighted, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down, his body pressing heavy against yours, his cock resting hot and thick against your belly, pulsing.

He was panting.

You could feel it, the heat of his breath against your cheek, the slight tremble in his arms, the pure need radiating off him.

“You’ll take it,” he murmured, voice rough and low, dangerous in a way that made your stomach clench. “You’ll take all of it, baby. Ain’t no way I’m not givin’ you every goddamn inch.”

Fuck.

You whimpered.

And Joel—he fucking felt it.

Felt the way you clenched around nothing, the way your thighs trembled, the way your nails dug into his shoulders.

Felt the way your body was begging for it.

“Joel…” Your voice was thinner now, breathless.

He smirked.

“What, baby?” He pressed against your entrance, just barely, the thick head of his cock stretching you the tiniest bit before he pulled away again, teasing, watching the way your body tensed, the way your breath hitched. “You were talkin’ so much before. What happened?”

You whined.

Louder this time.

And Joel groaned, dropping his forehead against yours, shaking his head.

“Jesus,” he murmured. “You’re so fuckin’ spoiled, baby.”

Then—

Joel pressed forward.

Slow.

Heavy.

Thick.

The swollen head of his cock pushed against your slick entrance, parting your folds, stretching you open inch by agonizing inch. Your body clenched around him instinctively, the burn sweet and deep, making you gasp, your fingers digging harder into his shoulders.

“Fuck—” Joel groaned, long and drawn out, his forehead dropping against yours as he fought to hold himself back, his hands gripping your waist so tightly you knew there’d be bruises come morning. “Goddamn, baby… s’fuckin’ tight—”

You moaned at the stretch, the way your cunt swallowed him up, the way he felt inside you—thick and throbbing, pulsing against your walls, filling you more than you ever thought possible.

And fuck, he wasn’t even all the way in yet.

Joel was shaking.

Every muscle in his body drawn tight, his cock twitching as he struggled to keep himself together, to not just slam in all at once and lose himself in the hot, wet grip of you.

He was too old for this shit.

Too fucking old to be trembling like some desperate goddamn virgin, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt, his breath coming in ragged pants as he forced himself to go slow.

But Jesus Christ—

You were so small.

So fucking tiny compared to him, your cunt squeezing around his cock like it was trying to keep him out, like you weren’t built to take something this fucking big.

But you would.

You had to.

Joel wasn’t stopping.

“Take it,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, voice wrecked, low and strained. “You’ll fuckin’ take all of it, little girl. Gonna stretch you out real nice, make you mine.”

You whimpered, legs trembling as you tried to relax, tried to take him deeper.

“Good job, sweet girl,” Joel groaned, voice rough, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs, spreading them wider, pressing his weight against you. “That’s it. That’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

You clenched around him at that, and Joel felt it—felt the way your body squeezed him, the way your breath hitched, the way your back arched just slightly, like your body was instinctively trying to get more.

And fuck, that just about broke him.

His hips twitched, and suddenly, he was sinking deeper, forcing more of his cock inside your tight little cunt, and you gasped, nails raking down his arms as he stretched you even further, the feeling almost too much, too full—

But fuck, it felt so good.

“Joel—”

He groaned at the sound of his name falling from your lips, dark eyes snapping up to meet yours, pupils blown wide, his lips parted as he panted against your mouth.

“Yeah, baby?” he rasped, voice dripping with heat.

You couldn’t even form words. Couldn’t think past the way he felt inside you, past the way he was holding you open, filling you up, stretching you out in a way you’d never felt before.

“More,” you whispered, breath hitching, thighs trembling. “Please.”

Joel growled.

Deep and low, something primal and wrecked, and before you could process it—

He thrust forward.

Burying himself to the fucking hilt.

You choked on a gasp, your whole body jerking at the sheer force of it, the sudden fullness, the way he bottomed out inside you, his cock nestled so deep it felt like he was fucking splitting you in half.

Joel snapped.

The last thread of his restraint fucking gone.

“Fuck—” He groaned, hips jerking, grinding himself deeper, reveling in the way you squirmed, the way you moaned, the way your body clenched around him like you never wanted to let go.

“Goddamn, sweetheart—” His voice was all rough edges, his head dropping to your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. “You feel that? How deep I am?”

You could barely think, barely breathe, barely function beyond the overwhelming stretch of him inside you, the way he filled every inch of you, every nerve ending fucking screaming in pleasure.

Joel didn’t wait for an answer.

Didn’t need one.

Because he knew.

Knew you felt it.

Knew you loved it.

“Look at you,” he groaned, his lips dragging over your throat, his fingers digging into your thighs. “Takin’ me so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. Made for this. Made to take my cock, weren’t you? You were askin' for this, huh? Teasin' me all these weeks?”

You moaned.

Loud and wrecked, your head tilting back, exposing more of your throat, and Joel fucking ate it up.

“Fuck, baby, you’re squeezin’ me so goddamn tight,” he rasped, voice strained, his hips pulling back just slightly before pressing forward again, grinding against that soft, spongy spot inside you. “Like this little pussy don’t wanna let me go.”

You whimpered.

Because it didn’t.

Didn’t want him to go.

Didn’t want anything except more—more of him, more of this, more of the way he was stretching you open, fucking ruining you for anyone else.

And Joel knew it.

Could feel it.

Could see it in the way your body arched, in the way your nails dug into his skin, in the way you moaned his name like a prayer.

And fuck—

That did something to him.

Something dark.

Something needy.

Something possessive.

His hips snapped forward, harder this time, and you cried out, hands flying up to grip his shoulders, and fuck, he loved that sound.

“Oh, god—i - you feel so good,” you cry, eyes fluttering shut, pleasure rolling over you in hot, heavy waves.

“Yeah, baby?” he rasped, voice full of filthy heat. “That what you want? Want me to fuck this sweet little pussy with my cock? Want me to ruin you?”

You gasped, back arching, nails dragging down his back.

“Yes—”

And that was all he needed.

All he needed to let go, to give in, to let the raw, aching need consume him.

Joel’s grip on your hips tightened, and then—Joel growled.

A deep, wrecked, guttural thing that ripped through his chest, and suddenly—he was moving.

Thrusting.

Fucking you.

“Oh—oh god—” Your back arched, breath hitching, body jolting with each sharp thrust, each desperate snap of his hips.

Joel fucking grinned.

“That what it takes, huh?” he rasped, voice dripping with filthy satisfaction. “A big cock to shut you up, baby? Hm?”

You moaned, head lolling back against the cushions, unable to form words, pleasure slamming into you so hard your mind went blank.

And Joel? He ate it up.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he gritted out, gripping your hips tighter, dragging you down onto him, forcing you to take every inch. “Too busy takin’ my cock to be a smug little brat now, huh?”

You whimpered.

And Joel groaned, eyes rolling back slightly as his pace faltered, his cock twitching inside you.

Fuck—he wasn’t gonna last.

Not with this.

Not with the way you were tightening around him, squeezing him like you wanted him to cum, like you wanted him to break apart inside you, wanted to milk every drop from his aching cock.

His breath turned ragged, hips stuttering, muscles tensing, and—

“Oh, baby—shit, I—I won’t—”

His voice broke.

He gritted his teeth, fighting it, holding on as long as he could, but you were so fucking tight, so fucking wet, so fucking perfect—

And then—

You clenched around him again, dragging him deeper, pressing your lips to his ear, voice all soft and sweet—

“Cum for me, Joel.”

And that was it.

Joel snapped.

His body locked up, cock throbbing as a strangled groan tore from his throat, his hips pressing flush against you as he spilled deep inside you, pumping you full, burying himself as deep as he could while pleasure crashed over him in heavy, burning waves.

His breath stuttered, his whole body trembling, nails digging into your skin.

Your body was still trembling, sweat slicking your skin, the heat between your legs thick and wet with the mess Joel had already left inside you. Your mind was still spinning, your breath uneven, but Joel wasn’t done.

Not even close.

He held you close, his big body still caging you in, his thick arms wrapped around you like he needed to keep you there, to pin you down, to claim you.

His lips moved against your damp skin, pressing soft, wet kisses against your shoulder, up your throat, nuzzling against the sensitive skin behind your ear as he let out a deep, satisfied groan.

But then—

Another pulse.

Another deep, warm spurt of cum filling you up, coating your walls even though you swore he had already given you everything he had.

Your breath hitched, your body twitching slightly as you felt it—felt him still throbbing, still leaking, still making sure every single drop stayed buried inside you.

“Joel,” you gasped, tilting your head back against the couch, your fingers curling weakly into his sweaty back. “You’re still cumming?”

Joel grunted against your neck, his hips giving a slow, almost involuntary push forward, like he was trying to press himself even deeper, to make sure it stuck. His lips dragged up to your jaw, warm and slightly open, his breath ragged, his voice wrecked when he finally muttered,

“Still got more for you, baby.”

Fuck.

Your stomach tightened, another wave of heat rolling through you at the sheer desperation in his tone, the filth in his words. You felt his mouth on you again, felt the rough scratch of his beard against your sensitive skin, and then—

Joel groaned, his lips finally finding yours, capturing them in a slow, wet kiss. The second you moaned into it—

Another slow pulse inside you.

Another spurt.

Hot, deep, filling you up all over again.

Joel shuddered against you, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, swallowing your soft whimpers as he rocked into you, his cock still buried deep, still throbbing, still giving you everything.

You broke the kiss first, tilting your head back against the couch, a dazed, smug little smile curling on your lips. “You really are an old pervert,” you murmured, voice teasing, breathless.

Joel’s hand came up to cup your jaw, tilting your face back toward his. His dark eyes were hooded, heavy with lust, filled with something possessive and raw as his fingers flexed slightly, keeping you in place.

“And you,” he rasped, his voice low, dangerous, “are a fuckin’ menace.”

His hips rocked again, and you let out a choked little gasp as you felt just how deep he was still buried inside you, still stretching you, still keeping you full. He groaned at the sound, dipping his head to bite softly at your bottom lip before licking over it, tasting you, his tongue sliding against yours in a slow, lazy tease.

You melted into it, humming softly as you curled your fingers into the damp hair at the nape of his neck, pulling slightly.

Joel growled.

His breath was heavy against your lips, warm and ragged, his body shuddering slightly as the last waves of pleasure pulsed through him. He pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your jaw, then another just beneath your ear, his lips soft and warm and so different from the way he’d just fucked you—filthy and desperate and rough.

Now, he was gentle.

Now, he was melting against you.

His weight pressing you down, his hands smoothing over your hips, his fingers curling possessively around the softness of your thighs. Keeping you close. Keeping you his.

You sighed, shifting just slightly, feeling the thick heat of him settle inside you, the stretch easing, leaving behind a deep, satisfied ache. You were so full.

So stuffed with him.

And god, you could feel it—the way he was still throbbing deep inside, the way the sticky warmth of his spend was already beginning to leak out, thick and hot, slicking your thighs where you were still stretched wide around him.

You smirked.

“Hm,” you mused, tilting your head back against the couch, letting your fingers drag lazily down his back. “I really got forty-year-old cum inside me right now, huh?”

Joel groaned, shifting slightly, dragging his lips down the curve of your throat, nipping softly. “Baby, don’t—”

“What?” You grinned, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you rolled your hips slightly, making him hiss. “Just stating facts.”

Joel exhaled sharply, his fingers flexing where they gripped your waist, holding you still. “Not forty,” he muttered, his voice a low, grumbled thing against your skin.

You hummed, tilting your head slightly. “Oh? My bad. Forty-something-year-old cum.”

Joel groaned again, his forehead dropping against your shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

You laughed softly, your fingers threading through his damp hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. “And yet,” you purred, voice sweet and teasing, “you still came so deep inside me.”

His hips flexed, pushing deeper, and you gasped, arching slightly beneath him. Joel lifted his head then, dark eyes meeting yours, something warm and hungry and satisfied settling there.

“Damn right, I did.”

You shivered.

His lips curled slightly, his hand dragging down to rest against your lower belly, pressing there—right over the place where you were still stuffed full of him.

“Know how long I been thinkin’ about that?” he murmured, fingers flexing slightly. “Fillin’ you up like this?”

Your breath hitched, eyes fluttering as he rolled his hips again, slow, lazy, letting you feel every inch of him inside you. “Joel…”

His lips found yours again, slow and deep and lingering, his tongue sliding against yours in a soft, lazy tease. You melted into it, letting him kiss you slow, letting him take his time, letting him savor the taste of you, the feel of you, the warmth of you still wrapped around him.

When he finally pulled back, he looked at you for a long moment, his hand smoothing up your side, curling around your ribs, tracing absentminded circles into your skin.

“You okay, sweet girl?” he murmured, voice softer now, rough around the edges but warm.

You exhaled, stretching slightly, feeling the way his body fit against yours, warm and solid and safe. You felt good.

Better than good.

A slow, satisfied smile curled on your lips. “More than okay.”

Joel grunted, pressing one last kiss to your jaw before finally shifting, pulling out slowly, carefully, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as he felt just how soaked you were.

He sat back, dark eyes dragging over the sight of you—legs spread, pussy messy and glistening, his cum already beginning to leak out onto the couch. His jaw clenched, his fingers twitching like he wanted to reach out and push it back inside.

Your smirk deepened. “Like what you see?”

Joel exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. “You’re gonna be the death of me, girl.”

You stretched your arms over your head, arching slightly, your grin widening. “Well,” you mused, voice lazy and satisfied, “if you die, at least you’ll die a very happy pervert.”

Joel rolled his eyes, reaching for you, tugging you onto his lap effortlessly, his arms wrapping around your waist, holding you close.

You sighed, melting into him, pressing your forehead against his, your fingers dragging up the back of his neck.

Joel exhaled, his breath warm against your lips, his fingers flexing slightly where they gripped your hips.

Then, voice low, murmured against your mouth—

“Yeah, baby. Happiest I’ve ever been.”

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

...Hey y'all im back. Opinions and comments are greatly appreciated please PLEASE (please)

[coven-of-genesis]

Beginner in witchcraft tips? Like where should I start?

Beginner witchcraft tips

Part one : where & how do I start

1. Research and Respect Open Practices

• What Are Open Practices?

Open practices are spiritual or magical systems that do not require initiation, cultural heritage, or permission to engage in. Examples include eclectic witchcraft, kitchen witchcraft, green witchcraft, hedge witchcraft, and secular witchcraft.

• Avoiding Cultural Appropriation:

Practices like smudging (specific to Indigenous cultures), Hoodoo, and Voodoo are closed practices unless you are properly initiated or invited. Instead, use general terms like “smoke cleansing” with herbs like rosemary or lavender.

2. Build a Foundation of Knowledge

• History and Ethics of Witchcraft

Study the historical persecution of witches, modern witchcraft movements like Wicca, and the ethical principles (e.g., Wiccan Rede, the Threefold Law, or personal moral codes).

• Learn the Basics of Magic:

• Correspondences: Study how herbs, crystals, colors, and moon phases align with magical intentions.

• Intentions: Understand that intention is the core of magical practice. Clarity and focus are vital.

3. Start with Simple Tools and Techniques

• Common Tools:

You don’t need expensive or elaborate items to begin. Everyday objects like candles, notebooks, or kitchen herbs work just as well as specialized tools.

• Candles for fire energy (tea lights are excellent for beginners).

• Herbs like rosemary (cleansing and protection), basil (prosperity), and chamomile (calming).

• Salt for purification.

• Crystals like clear quartz (amplification), amethyst (calm), or rose quartz (love).

• DIY Approach:

Craft your own tools or collect items from nature (leaves, stones, feathers) for more personal meaning.

4. Create a Sacred Space

• Physical Space:

Choose a small area for your altar or sacred space. This can be a shelf, a table, or even a portable box. Include items like:

• A candle for focus and light.

• Representations of the elements (e.g., a bowl of water, stones, a feather).

• Personal objects that bring comfort or inspiration.

• Energetic Space:

Use cleansing techniques to clear your space, such as sprinkling salt, using sound (bells or clapping), or wafting incense.

5. Practice Energy Work

• Grounding:

This helps connect you to the earth and stabilize your energy. A simple method:

• Sit or stand barefoot. Imagine roots growing from your feet deep into the ground. Visualize excess energy flowing down these roots into the earth.

• Centering:

Gather scattered energy into your core. Visualize a glowing ball of light in your chest or belly, representing your personal power.

• Shielding:

Protect your energy by visualizing a protective bubble or shield of light around you.

6. Explore Divination

• Tarot or Oracle Cards:

• Start by pulling a single card daily to learn its meaning and connect with your intuition.

• Many decks come with guidebooks to help beginners.

• Pendulums:

Use a pendulum for yes/no questions. Practice by asking simple, clear questions and observing the swing (e.g., clockwise for yes, counterclockwise for no).

• Scrying:

Try gazing into a bowl of water, a mirror, or a candle flame to receive intuitive insights.

7. Learn Magical Timing

• Lunar Phases:

• New Moon: Set intentions and start new projects.

• Waxing Moon: Build energy and take action.

• Full Moon: Amplify power, perform gratitude rituals.

• Waning Moon: Release and banish unwanted energies.

• Days of the Week:

• Example: Thursday is associated with abundance and success.

• Seasons and Sabbats:

Research the Wheel of the Year (e.g., Yule, Beltane) and celebrate the seasons in ways that resonate with you.

8. Work With Nature and the Elements

• Earth: Grow plants, use crystals, or walk barefoot outside.

• Air: Burn incense, write affirmations, or meditate on your breath.

• Fire: Light candles, work with fire-safe herbs, or set intentions during sunsets.

• Water: Take ritual baths, work with moon water, or meditate near a body of water.

9. Keep a Grimoire or Book of Shadows

• Document your spells, rituals, and experiences.

• Include correspondences (e.g., herbs, colors, moon phases), affirmations, and journal entries about your practice.

• This will help you reflect on your progress and refine your methods over time.

10. Develop Your Own Path

• Personalize Your Practice:

Use what resonates with you and leave out what doesn’t. Witchcraft is a flexible and personal journey.

• Be Patient:

Progress takes time. Focus on consistency rather than perfection.

• Stay Open-Minded:

Connect with other practitioners to exchange ideas, but always critically evaluate what you incorporate into your practice.

[psychics4unet]

100 Mind-Blowing Ways to Supercharge Your Spirituality 🚀✨

Start a daily meditation practice 🧘‍♀️

Create a spiritual vision board 🌟

Share your favorite spiritual quotes 📜

Explore different types of meditation 🕉️

Write about your spiritual growth journey 🌱

Engage with spiritual communities 🤝

Practice gratitude daily 🙏

Use crystals for energy healing 💎

Follow and interact with spiritual bloggers ✨

Share your tarot card readings 🔮

Write about your dreams and their meanings 🌙

Read and discuss spiritual books 📚

Explore and practice different forms of divination 🃏

Practice and share mindfulness techniques 🌸

Create and use affirmations ✨

Participate in spiritual challenges or prompts 🏆

Discover tips for finding inner peace ☮️

Explore meditation apps 📱

Experience and reflect on spiritual retreats 🏞️

Learn about and practice different spiritual rituals 🛕

Listen to spiritual podcasts 🎧

Experience and share energy healing 🌈

Set up a sacred space or altar 🕯️

Reflect on the benefits of a spiritual practice 📖

Share how spirituality impacts your life 🌟

Connect with your higher self 🌌

Study and understand spiritual symbolism 🖼️

Learn from various spiritual teachers 🧑‍🏫

Set spiritual goals 🎯

Curate spiritual playlists 🎵

Explore spiritual rituals for different seasons 🌿

Practice self-care 🛁

Connect spirituality with creativity 🎨

Maintain spiritual balance ⚖️

Discover spiritual websites 🌐

Engage in spiritual journaling 📔

Try guided meditations 🎙️

Explore spiritual practices from different cultures 🌏

Develop and trust your intuition 🔮

Understand spirituality's impact on mental health 🧠

Explore chakra healing 🌈

Include prayer in your spiritual practice 🙏

Create spiritual art 🖌️

Embrace spiritual rituals for the seasons 🌿

Experience different types of yoga 🧘‍♂️

Align with your spiritual path 🔗

Stay spiritually motivated 🌟

Use spiritual practices for stress relief 🌿

Cultivate compassion in spirituality ❤️

Discover and explore spiritual blogs 🌐

Recognize the personal growth benefits of spirituality 🌱

Learn about spiritual symbols and their meanings ✨

Build a spiritual routine 📅

Practice forgiveness as part of spirituality 💖

Use spiritual practices to manifest desires 🌠

Embrace rituals for abundance 💰

Connect with nature in your spiritual practice 🌳

Create a spiritual self-care checklist 📝

Explore past-life regression 🌌

Connect with spiritual guides 👼

Maintain spiritual boundaries 🚧

Experience different energy work practices 🌟

Reflect on spiritual quotes and their meanings 🗣️

Understand spirituality's impact on relationships ❤️

Explore spiritual cleansing rituals 🌊

Balance spirituality with daily life ⚖️

Embrace mindfulness 🌿

Try spiritual DIY projects 🎨

Use spiritual practices for healing 🌸

Participate in spiritual ceremonies 🎉

Focus on living in the present moment ⏳

Explore various spiritual healing practices 💫

Build spiritual resilience 💪

Empower yourself through spirituality 🌟

Engage in spiritual challenges 🎯

Join spiritual group activities 🤝

Use and learn about spiritual tools 🛠️

Overcome obstacles through spirituality 🏔️

Seek spiritual mentorship 🧑‍🏫

Integrate spirituality into your routine 📅

Practice self-love in spirituality ❤️

Make a spiritual vision board 🖼️

Use spiritual practices for relaxation 🌸

Express spirituality through art 🎨

Practice gratitude 🙏

Enhance creativity with spiritual practices 🌈

Nurture spiritual connections 🧩

Transform personally through spirituality 🌟

Use journaling prompts for spiritual growth 📓

Experience spiritual awakening 🌅

Boost energy with spiritual practices ⚡

Utilize rituals in your spiritual life 🧙‍♀️

Ground yourself spiritually 🌍

Build a spiritual support network 🤝

Increase spiritual self-awareness 🧠

Improve yourself with a spiritual plan 📋

Make daily decisions with spirituality 🌟

Create spiritual art 🎨

Incorporate meditation into your practice 🧘‍♂️

Practice regular spiritual activities 🌱

[dirtbagwitch]

MAGIC FOR THE CITY DWELLER

CHAPTER ONE: WELCOME TO THE CONCRETE JUNGLE, WHERE MAGIC NEVER SLEEPS

magic isn’t just for the deep woods and moss-covered stones. it’s not limited to candlelit covens or ancient runes etched in a sacred grove. magic is where you are. in the humming neon signs, the flickering streetlamps, the rhythm of bus doors opening and closing, in the energy of walking amongst a crowd on a busy street.

urban magic is about finding the mystical in the mundane, harnessing the city’s restless energy, and using every graffiti tag, liminal space, cracked pavement, and forgotten coin as a tool for enchantment. the city is alive—a churning, breathing, chaotic organism—and if you listen closely, it’s whispering spells in the wind between skyscrapers.

this isn’t some high-brow, ceremonial magic doctrine. here, we work with sigils written on coffee shop napkins, metro card protection spells, and phone screens charged as scrying mirrors. this is magic for the streets, for the punks, for the witches in walk-ups and studio apartments, for the ones who find the divine in the hum of a dive bar at 3 AM.

WHAT MAKES URBAN MAGIC DIFFERENT?

the biggest shift between traditional and urban magic is the environment. instead of sacred groves, we have community gardens. instead of rivers, we have storm drains. instead of bonfires, we have neon lights and power grids pulsing with raw electricity.

but just because the setting is different doesn’t mean the magic is weaker. city magic is potent as hell, because it’s charged with movement, history, technology, and millions of lives overlapping in real-time.

ELEMENTS IN AN URBAN CONTEXT:

• earth → concrete, bricks, asphalt, parks and park dirt

• air → the wind between high-rises, the whispers of overheard conversations, the endless streams of information moving across the city

• fire → electricity, neon lights, the heat of a crowded bus, a match or lighter

• water → rain pooling in the streets, sewer systems, fountains in public squares, water dripping from rooftops

• spirit → the city itself, the collective energy of its people, the ghosts in old buildings, the echoes of everyone who’s walked these streets before you

this practice isn’t about forcing the old ways into a modern setting. it’s about adapting magic so that it fits your world, your reality, your city.

THEORY & FRAMEWORK: CHAOS MAGIC, QUEER MAGIC, AND CITY SPELLS

urban magic thrives on three key principles:

1. ADAPTATION – use what’s around you. city witches need to be resourceful as hell. your “wand” can be a pen, a drumstick, or a crowbar if that’s what speaks to you (though a crowbar is a little extreme). your “altar” can be a windowsill, a shoebox, or even temporary like the back of a bus seat where you traced a sigil in the condensation.

2. INGENUITY – urban magic is subtle, fast, and often disguised. your ritual circle might be drawn in spilled coffee, your sigils hidden in street art, your glamour spells worked through fashion choices and body language.

3. INTERACTION – the city is alive. talk to it. work with the spirits of your apartment building, the crows and raven and wandering city cats who see a lot, the graffiti messages that seem to answer your questions in cryptic scrawls, street names that feel like answers to questions. trust your gut, keep watch for the synchronicity

MAGICAL SYSTEMS THAT THRIVE IN THE CITY:

1. CHAOS MAGIC: THE DIY APPROACH TO WITCHCRAFT

urban magic truthfully falls under the umbrella of chaos magic.

chaos magic is sort of like punk rock spellwork. no rules except what works. it’s the belief that magic isn’t just about ancient texts and strict traditions—it’s about belief as a tool. hacking reality, using symbols, and experimenting with what actually gets results. if something stops working you chuck it and move on to something new.

• create sigils from street signs, corporate logos, and subway maps.

• use “reality hacking” spells—like placing intent in a QR code or whispering an incantation into a social media post before it goes viral.

• swap out outdated correspondences for modern tools—your phone can be your scrying mirror, your router a beacon for intention-setting.

chaos magic thrives in the city because cities are chaotic. they’re full of random encounters, glitches, synchronicities waiting to be tapped into.

2. QUEER MAGIC: BREAKING RULES, BENDING REALITY

witchcraft has always been the domain of outsiders, rebels, and the marginalized. queer magic embraces fluidity, resistance, and radical self-expression.

• use genderfluid deities, archetypes, and spirits in your workings.

• cast spells at drag shows, pride marches, and underground raves—because those are modern sacred spaces.

• turn self-love into a spell, defying the narratives that say queer people don’t deserve power, joy, or love.

urban queer magic is loud, unapologetic, and built on the bones of those who paved the way before.

TOOLS & MATERIALS: USING THE CITY AS YOUR SPELLBOOK

urban witches don’t need fancy supplies. we use:

• 📱 smart phones – scrying mirrors, digital sigil boards, enchanted playlists

• 🎫 metro cards & transit tickets – protection charms, travel blessings

• 🗝 keys – for unlocking opportunities, closing doors that need to stay shut

• 🖋 pens & sharpies – sigil-making, graffiti spellwork

• 🪙 spare change – prosperity charms, offerings to city spirits

• 🧾 receipts – paper magic, petition spells, glamour workings

if it exists in your daily life, it can be a tool.

EVERYDAY SPELLS & RITUALS

🔮 PROTECTION SPELLS FOR NAVIGATING CITY LIFE

• “doorway ward” – rub salt along your threshold, whispering “no harm may cross this line.”

• “metro shield” – imagine a glowing energy bubble around you before stepping onto public transit.

💰 PROSPERITY & SUCCESS SPELLS

• “lucky coin” – pick up a found coin, say “bring me fortune,” and carry it for a week.

• “resume enchantment” – anoint your job applications with cinnamon for luck before sending.

💡 HACKING REALITY WITH CHAOS MAGIC

• “digital sigils” – set a sigil as your phone wallpaper and charge it every time you unlock your screen.

• “parking spell” – whisper “open the way” as you search for a spot—watch as one appears.

🌀 COMMUNITY SPELLS & URBAN COLLECTIVE MAGIC

• “city-wide sigil work” – drop the same symbol in different places and see what manifests.

• “full moon offerings” – leave a quarter at a crossroads to honor the city’s spirits.

THE CITY IS YOUR ALTAR

this is your grimoire, your spellbook, your guide to turning the city into a magical playground. don’t just live in it—work with it, enchant it, let it enchant you back.

magic is everywhere, babes. you just have to know where to look.

[2024-grimoire-challenge]

December Prep 2

Let's look into a couple of things this week The first is how to properly study, research and gather information and the second is the various kinds of prompts you will see in the challenge throughout the year.

The basic steps in any research process are

Identify and develop your topic (we will have multiple so it will be important to follow the same steps for each topic.)

Preliminary search for information - we will be gathering a list of resources for everyone before the challenge begins including websites, a list of recommended books, and more.

Locate the information/ materials - Gather all your sources into one place! A folder on your pc, or a bookmark bar in your browser can go a long way to helping you keep this organized.

Evaluate and use Discernment on your informational sources.

Take notes! - self explanatory. Using the resources at your disposal, take notes on your selected topic, gather all of those notes, and keep them organized. You don't need to think of this in exact terms of a research paper, but the idea is the same! All of your notes will be helpful in actually filling and creating the pages for your grimoire! But, you also can just keep the notes as they are in your grimoire!

Now lets get on to the types of prompts you will see!

Meditation/ Journal - these will generally be the end of every week and after every practical prompt, so you can look back at what you've done and learned, in order to help you process what you'd done and how you feel and think about it.

Research/ Study - these will include things like herbs, gems, types of magical practices and topics, tools, history

Practical/ Hands on - at least one a week, where you get your hands dirty, so to speak, and really perform some magic or do the work you're studying.

Submissions - I encourage everyone to share their thoughts, ideas, and physical progress within the challenge. You don't have to share pictures, if you're not comfortable, but thoughts and ideas and a short post about what you accomplished!

Holiday/ Seasonal posts - We'll have posts for the typical holidays and some that not so common.

Divination prompts - On occasion we'll have a divination prompt. It won't necessarily require you to perform any divination if you're not comfortable or don't know how, but the option will be there!

Cooking prompt - We've all seen those cool witchy inspired cooking posts on this site. So why not do one? Why not learn to make bread? Or mead? Or cute little pastries? Or anything. This'll be a new prompt, one I encourage everyone to take part in and share!

There may be more of these added as we go, but in general this is all of the types of posts we'll be seeing!

What else is there to do?

Well if you’ve already got notes somewhere (a notebook or files on your computer or what have you) you’re gonna want to actually design a grimoire right? And this is a grimoire challenge right? So let’s look at different design and style options!

If you’ve seen the video I posted of my grimoire pages, they’re very scrapbook/ junk journal styled. Which is a fun and totally customizable option.

Let’s look at some note taking methods, to help us take notes as well as design our grimoire pages, and some scrapbook supplies and ideas for ways to decorate our grimoires.

https://crm.org/news/note-taking-methods#:~:text=There%20are%20many%20different%20methods,and%20Bullet%20Method%2C%20among%20others.

These are just a few links for some ideas.

Your grimoire should suit you, no matter how you choose to design and decorate it. It could be a scrapbook like mine, a bullet note journal, or a leather bound tome with thick ink lettering in a cipher that only you can read. However you want to design it, it should be an expression of you and your practice.

I am excited to be running this challenge again, and to be helping all of your find inspiration for your practices and grimoires!

Good luck and happy crafting!

Mod Hazel

[yewdales]

🏹 Hail and well met! My name is Jordan, and this is my new devotional blog! This post is both a community introduction and pinned bio. ➴

I'm an inclusive animist heathen, meaning that I follow a Norse pagan path centered on the natural world and our more-than-human neighbors. My own queerness aside, it's important to me that my practice is a source of love and welcoming for all walks of life, and I try to decolonize myself and my path.

My patron is Ullr, lord of archery, yews ᛇ, hunting, winter, and skiing. I've been worshiping and working with him for 4 years. I work with no deities other than him, and the rest of my practice is dedicated to non-gods. Ullr is a massively important part of my life, and I consider myself very fortunate for the relationship we have.

I'm especially working on improving my intuition skills and studying divination tools (runes and tarot). I've been practicing these for many, many years, but never with enough dedication to really learn them. That's changed over the past 6 or so months and I think I'm finally starting to get pretty good. I also do some energy work every now and then.

I'm not an expert in anything and consider that a blessing -- learning new information is what keeps me excited about life. I'm fascinated by the history of our beliefs and how we carry them in the modern world. Reading recs as always very appreciated. My personal recommendation is that you read Braiding Sweetgrass.

Feel free to message or otherwise strike up a conversation. Hateful or inciting messages will be deleted and ignored, but I enjoy sharing the love of heathenry with others. Community is an important part of my practice.

❆ This is a sideblog, and I follow from @dia-tribe ❆

Commonly used tags under the readmore.

#my post - Original posts by me.

#photos - Real-life pictures and videos; aesthetics.

#art - Original or credited.

#texts - Screenshots or quotes from credited books, articles, essays, etc.

#basics - Intructory or foundational information for heathenry, animism, spellcraft, etc.

#advice - Mundane tips for safety and sanity.

#resource - Posts linking to or referencing outside sources.

#reference - Informational posts.

#practice - Broad tag for posts that inform my cultus.

#philosophy - Daily spirituality. Habits, reminders, outlook shifters.

#ullr - Posts about my patron god.

#gods - Information on deities and their veneration.

#ancestors - General tag for posts about the humans that came before us.

#wights - General tag for non-human, non-god spirits.

#animism - Regarding the belief that all parts of nature have spirit, and thus have intrinsic rights.

#neighbors - Real-life observations of other-than-human individuals with species identifications.

#hails - Prayers, poems, honors, affirmations. Magical words.

#holidays - Dates and traditions of relevant holidays.

#rituals - Spells, blots, and rites.

#components - Magical associations of plants, stones, etc. Magic items, symbols.

#divination - Information on types of divination and ways to use them.

#shadow work - Topics, questions, starters, tips.

#attestations - Quotes from myth texts.

#history - Relevant historic information.

#ecology - Posts about natural science.

#crafts - Artistic creations with a devotional twist.

#DIY - How-tos for alternatives to purchasing.

#recipes - Practice-adjacent food ideas.

#community - Promo posts, introductions.

#wishlist - Things I'd like to purchase from independent makers and artists.

#memes - Relevant meme/humor posts.

[carriechambers]

Pendulum 101

Post

Hey everyone, so we have a new (and first) post on our website about dowsing pendulums!

In this post you'll learn:

how to use a pendulum (for divination, finding lost items, blockages, using charts and the 4 basic answers it gives)

pendulum care (cleansing, bonding and why not leave it lying around)

materials properties (common crystals used for pendulums and metals and wood)

how to make a pendulum (general tip for alternative pendulum choices)

If you're interested, it's better to visit the web page, as there it is way easier to orientate yourself in. However if you do wanna stay on the site, you can read it further in this post. And if you're looking for spiritual and witchy content, stop by from time to time 💜 On the webpage there is a Library that will soon fill up, and it'll be easier to find things there in form of web pages rather than tumblr posts.

The link: Pendulum

How to Use a Pendulum

This really depends on your beliefs. Some believe pendulum move on its own, or that a certain spirit is moving it. Others on the other hand believe that it is our own intuition that moves it - so that we are moving it through subtle moves of the fingers. Depending on where your beliefs lie, you may choose to either hold the end of the string/chain in between your index finger and thumb with your elbow on a solid surface, or hang it on something to make sure you’re not the one moving it.

If you would like to rather hang it, there are sites that sell stands for it, or some people like to DIY a pendulum jar/bottle - for that you basically grab a transparent jar and glue the pendulum chain to the middle of the lid, so that when you close it, the pendulum hangs freely in the middle of it. This ensures that no wind will tamper with it.

Some tech witches would probably also use some sort of an app or a website which randomly decides what the pendulum answers. Once again, this depends entirely on your beliefs, whether you believe in the accuracy of divination tools in electronics. Unfortunately I haven’t found a good website or an app that would simulate it well, but perhaps you’ll have better luck!

Now, when you first get a pendulum, other than cleansing it, you can also “calibrate” it. Either you can decide on how it should show each answer, or you can ask it to show you each. You can also ask it basic questions that you know the answer to to find out their meanings (and many people do that even after “calibrating” to check if everything fits). There are 4 basic moves of a pendulum:

Yes - usually either from front to back (like nodding your head), or side to side. As I mentioned before, you can also ask it to show you (“show me a yes”) and remember it or write it down somewhere.

No - once again, usually side to side (like shaking your head) or front to back.

Maybe - usually either clockwise or counter-clockwise. This often means that the answer to your question depends on different factors. Kind of like saying “yes if X, no if Y”. Sometimes certain spirits also like to say “maybe” a lot, in my experience it is a common thing amongst tricksters.

Don’t know / Can’t answer / Rephrase - once again, usually clockwise or counter-clockwise. Some pendulums actually merge “maybe” and “don’t know”. This means that either they do not want to tell you, or you asked a non-yes/no-question.

Another thing are charts - you can use a pendulum chart or board for questions that don’t have yes/no answers. And many also use a pendulum board that has the basic 4 motions on it as well! Super useful for forgetful people. There are many you can choose from, and you can also make your own. There are ones with a full on alphabet, so that it can give you custom answers. You can find many for example on Pinterest. It’s better to print them out, but there were many times I’ve simply opened one on my phone and held my pendulum over the screen.

Pendulum’s are also often used in energy works as a way to find some blockages, which areas need the most attention, etc. Basically in these things one person lies down flat on the stomach or back, and the other person holds the pendulum over their body, asking to point towards the areas. I believe that it is quite a common practice when you go to some reiki therapy.

There are also other ways of using your pendulum. It can be used to find a location that meets your specifications / where the object you’re looking for is located. That could be for example when you’ve lost something in your house, or when you want to look for an ingredient.

For finding something local, you usually ask yes/no questions for each of the rooms (if it’s inside a house, this step would be skipped if you already know the room or if you’re in a larger area). Alternatively, you could hold your pendulum over a sketch of the layout of the building to figure out the room. Then, you would ask for the direction and the pendulum will point towards the object. Make sure you’re standing in the doorway, because otherwise you might be going forwards when the pendulum was actually pointing behind you. You do this multiple times, also throwing in some questions like “am I near the object”, etc.

For finding something in a large area (like entire neighbourhood, or tips for trips to other states, finding ingredients, etc.) you can use your pendulum with a map. Then you ask it to point to the area where you will find it / that’s good for your vacation. You can once again do it multiple times, and if you’re going to search for something specific, you can then use the local way of finding things.

One more thing I’d like to talk about before moving on to taking care of a pendulum, is divination itself. When talking about divination, most people probably imagine fortune telling. Now I’m not saying that’s impossible, but the fact is, future is everchanging. The slightest of things can change it - that is why the further we’re reading, the more inaccurate it gets. When you do a reading (and I mean anything, be it pendulum or tarot) for today, it will be likely quite accurate, but the further away you do, it gets less and less accurate. And on top of that, we can often misinterpret things. So just keep this in mind when using your divination tools. I personally rather do readings for advice rather than fortune-telling.

  Pendulum care

When we talk about pendulum care, it’s mostly about cleansing. Why do we cleanse? Because most things collect some amount of negative energy through time. This is especially true for spiritual tools, including divination tools, because by doing spiritual things, we open the area (and ourselves) to the energies of the universe - which includes negative ones. Other than that we also always cleanse tools when we first obtain them, to rid them of any energy they were subjected to up till they got into our hands. This ensures they keep giving accurate answers and we don’t bring even more negative energy into our lives.

Another thing is bonding with your pendulum. Using it by itself of course also is a way of bonding, but there are other ways too. Bonding helps you be more in tune with its energy, makes your readings more accurate. And if you (like some other people) believe that each divination tool has its kind of spirit (I feel like this is really common among card readers, because those cards be acting sassy), you might want to bond for the sake of bonding. Now this is done through for example carrying it around with you and meditating with it. When you first get it, asking test questions (ones you already know the answer to) can be a good way to feel its energy as well. Just make sure it’s alright with test questions, some divination tools really don’t like those in my experience, at least when you’re acting distrustful.

Cleansing your pendulum can be done in multiple ways. If you’d like to use physical cleaning (with water) while focusing on cleansing it spiritually too, please make sure that whatever the material is can be washed. There are many crystals that react with water, and in some cases it can be harmful not only to the crystal, but also to you.

Another way you can cleanse is by sunlight or moonlight. I’ve seen multiple opinions on these - some say that some crystals would be better with sunlight while others with moonlight and that full moon is the best, because the moonlight is strongest. However I have found it more common for new moon to be a cleansing period. The energies of new moon leave behind what should be gotten rid of and starts with a clean slate. Charging crystals would be probably better in full moon though, yes. But crystals currently aren’t our topic. You also need to make sure how certain crystals react with sunlight - because some fade if left too long in it. It doesn’t damage them, but you might be disappointed if your beautiful amethyst pendulum suddenly starts losing its purple colour. 

There is also something called soundcleansing. Usually it’s done with tuning fork or a singing bowl, but that doesn’t always have to be the case. I often combine this with visualisation and clap my hands, hum, things like that. It is mostly believed that the vibrations are what cleanse. So you can also pull up youtube video with some sounds and it should work just fine.

And then there is visualisation and meditation.This one is even more flexible than the other methods. You sit down with your pendulum and meditate, then imagine perhaps the energies exchanging, getting rid of any dark spots (negative energy) and bringing in some positive energy (often either white or yellow). I often combine this with some movement like slamming one hand lightly against the other, like shaking the negative energy out, like a powder.

  Materials

And I’d also like to mention that it is good to put up some protections around the place you wanna keep it in (you can also make a protection for the sachet you keep it in. This keeps it from building up too much negative energy. Many people believe that if a crystal builds up way too much negative energy, they can break. As in, part of them can fully chip off. This is actually what happened to my pendulum unfortunately, as I did not keep it in a protected place. You can continue using it even after that, I still do, but it’s never a good thing nor a good feeling to have that happen.

Other than protecting your pendulum, don’t forget to protect yourself too! Since you’re opening yourself to the universe, it is important to protect yourself from anything harmful that could enter your place through it.

Pendulums can be made from all kinds of things. If you don’t have the budget to get one, you may even use a necklace, or literally any weight hung on a string. But of course, crystals are the most common for pendulums. 

Rose quartz - Other than being the love crystal as everyone knows it, rose quartz is pretty good for getting rid of negative energies. So might be doing exceptionally well in love readings, but is mostly used for it’s protective energy.

Black obsidian - another crystal known mainly for its protective and cleansing energies, maybe more than rose quartz, which is usually focused more on love, self-love. 

Lapis lazuli - its properties have wisdom and truth. It’s not surprising that it is used for pendulums a lot. We do after all ask it for answers.

Aquamarine - quite an interesting stone. The connection with water means it has some cleansing properties. Spiritually however it is also connected with trust and communication. Once again, not surprising why one would want it for a pendulum.

Amethyst - Ah yes, amethyst. It has been considered one of the main spiritual crystals. Not too surprising, it is connected to the third eye energy center. It has the properties of wisdom, intuition and fighting anxiety and depression. In my opinion it is likely one of the most common materials used for pendulums and other spiritual tools.

Of course, crystals aren’t the only material used for pendulums. Another common one is metal. Copper for example is a great energy conductor and is quite widely used. Brass and Bronzestem from copper and therefore have very similar properties and are quite sturdy.

Sometimes also wood is used, as it is more grounding and stable, unaffected by the surrounding energies, only by yours as you hold it.

Some pendulums have beads / small crystals on the string. It can be used to customize the look, but also to add some meanings if you’d like. Quite common are also energy center beads (sold under “chakra” term, as chakras have been greatly appropriated from Hinduism and Buddhism).

  Making a Pendulum

There are multiple ways you can make your own pendulum if you don’t have the funds or don’t find it worth investing money into. You can always grab a necklace that you perhaps own. While most rather own pointy pendulums, they don’t have to have that shape. It is always good for it to be balanced though.

And if you’re into some woodwork, you can also carve out a wooden pendulum, hang it on a string and there you go! It shouldn’t be too heavy though, otherwise it will have a hard time swinging. And being too light might lead to it being swayed by the faintest of breezes.

  Final Note

That’s all for this post. If you have any questions or anything you think I should add to this post, go to Ask Anything. You can also write in that you do not wish to have it published, however, then you need to not write anonymously, otherwise I won’t be able to respond in DMs. For more posts, check out the Library. Have a wonderful day 💜

   Sources

My Experience

trulyexperiences crystal correspondences

opulentcharms pendulum materials

Disclaimer: all pictures are from royalty-free websites

[zebratoys]

I wish to give and serve by strengthening affiliation with Am Yisrael’s tribalhood and to elevate faith, hope and Oneness among our communities. I believe in gatherings that incorporate Judaica hands-on arts & crafts enrichment activities that promote communal bonding and ease uncertainty, fear, confused feelings and loss of meaning. Through engaging actively, participants will find a heavenly solace that whispers to the innermost depths of the Jewish soul.

Art gathering events are a delightful opportunity for community members to immerse in a sense of enduring peace that envelopes the spirit with purity, grace and providence rooted in holiness, symbolism and Biblical prayers scripted in the Torah. Step into a cozy bubble that brings us closer by dissolving distortions through the power of roots & culture, creativity, art and crafts.

I’m devoted to sharing good deeds, goodness and goodwill among our tribe by working with communities to strengthen our legacy and bring forth the light in us. ♡ I want to contribute to our tribal alliance worldwide, restore harmony and ease suffering by shining sparks of a unifying glow of love into our lives and throughout the world. Tap into a flow of divine energy and experience the melody of Am Yisrael’s sacred covenant with likewise joyful giving loving souls. Wishing us all this golden feeling Amen.

I am seeking welcoming Jewish communities where I may serve to inspire ideas for creative educational value-based enrichment tools with activities grounded in the Jewish heritage, providing meaningful themes referencing to Hebrew and Israel and disseminating Jewish values.

Visit www.zebratoys.etsy.com to choose from the HALELUYA Sacred Soul Art collection that includes more than 1000 Judaica art designs and Sacred Geometry Art.

Here are some ideas that you can instantly downloaded:  ► Coloring Pages for Shabbat, Rosh Hashanah, Sukkot, Passover and Hanukkah. ► Amazon Coloring Books of Jewish Art and Sacred Geometry. ► Star of David & Dreidels DIY Papercrafts Decorations for Parties and Home Décor. ► Learning the Hebrew Alphabet Worksheet Art Activities. ► Kabbalah Art Wall Décor Prints and Geometric Patterns Pages. ► Meditative Jewish Mandalas with Biblical Prayers and Holy Symbols. ► Judaica Arts & Crafts Supplies for Judaic, Israel and Hebrew classes.

I would love to hear what possibilities of collaborations this inspires in you. If you have a question or need my advice on your art activities, I’m offering a FREE 30 MINUTE ONLINE VIDEO CALL tailored to meet the needs of your university, school, camp, group, and/or Synagogue. Let me know how may I help your community. To Schedule our online meeting, send me a message at oritgutmacherlevy@gmail.com or WhatsApp at +972 50 4393944

[dreamworldmahou]

∘₊✧ 2 : Becoming a Dreamworld Hero ✧₊∘

Disclaimer ; This is not a product of delusion, roleplay, or anything of the sort! This blog is run by real magical heroes, so please refrain from interacting if you do not believe in these practices. Ciao!

Intro ˖˚₊ ✧

In this post, I'll be explaining how heroes are chosen by fairies, what happens before you become a hero, and what the first transformation is like (as well as how the magical tools work)!! Keep in mind that this is written based on my own personal experiences with being a Dreamworld Hero, and that if you choose to become one yourself, our experiences can differ from one another!

How You're Chosen ˖˚₊ ✧

There are a few different ways to be chosen by a fairy:

Completely out of nowhere

Because one Hero already told a fairy or two about you

Or because you attempted to contact a fairy yourself

I was chosen out of nowhere, specifically because I was doing a form of energy work in public and Pyxis went "oh yeah, that guy over there". I actually had to learn to strengthen my clairaudience again to communicate with him because I didn't recognize that there was another entity there at first! Make sure that you boost your energetic awareness, especially in public, cause if you find a fairy just hanging out and looking for a hero, the same thing can happen in reverse - you can choose them!

Now, as for the 2nd and 3rd bullet points, things get a little more complicated. Sure a hero can tell a fairy about you, but there could be some issues if the fairy can't find you or communicate with you. Just like when you're trying to get chosen normally, I'd recommend making some sort of rudimentary energetic construct (like a sphere) just so they can pick up on where you are. As for the communication issue, if clairaudience isn't something that you have or feel comfortable with, divination and communication through dreams are the next best thing! But when it comes to contacting a fairy yourself? I'm not too sure about that.. I'm sure there's a way to get to Dreamworld on your own though!

Training Period ˖˚₊ ✧

The "training period" is a period of time after you've been chosen by a fairy. You don't become a hero immediately because you need to learn more about everything, including your familiar! During my training period, I learned how to get to Dreamworld (albeit with an escort), everything I know about nightmares and fairies, how to transform and fight properly, etc. This is where you learn everything you need to know about being a hero, and where you get to truly consider the weight of the decision you're making. Heroes are often chosen by the royals of Dreamworld kingdoms, and the role you're taking up is a knightly one. A promise to defend isn't one to be broken, which is why it's important to think about what you're signing up for!

Transformation ˖˚₊ ✧

Upon ending your training period, you accept your transformation charm! It typically bears the symbol associated with the fairy that gave it to you, as well as your own motifs (like mine having both a crescent moon and a star + wing design)! When you're not using it, it can take the form of any old accessory while you're in Dreamworld (like a hairclip or bracelet), but the kind of weapon it turns into is entirely up to the user! I have a bit of a Cardcaptor Sakura situation going on where my charm turns into a staff after I say a specific incantation, but feel free to get creative!! This is the part where I'd recommend some form of scripting for your charm, outfit, and weapons because well.. I didn't and had to come up with everything on the fly during my first fight since I didn't know the whole thing was a DIY situation.. Good luck!!

[thespiritlady-brown-2]

Hii dii, bas eak choti si advice chahiye thi like I also wanted to do tarot but then kisi ne bola it's bad and its not something god support because tarot is a witchcraft and it's a divination tool which is similar to Ouija board like usne kaha ki isse dur rahe na chaiye cause those invisible beings who answer through tarot are anything but god and angels and we can literally attrect something dangerous towards us so is it true like we have to take some precautions or something

Okay ,

First of all as a sincere person who is not here for entertainment , I would first ask you if you want to use it for a spiritual- humanitarian purpose or for entertainment ? Your approach and mentality will decide your journey and the results will be all dependent upon how you interact with it . Everything comes with a pros and cons yet the person is the one who decided wether to go for it or not simultaneously weighing out decisions based upon all the factors considered as a Necessitate for to that one we want to become or want to do . People have their own choices and opinion so in contrast to this you will have to experience by yourself.

Now , to experiences - negative or positive . It's a journey again and yes I won't deny the fact that you do interact with spirits - good , bad or worse . If you can handle and deal alone you may but if you can't it's up to you. Tarot is both witchcraft and divination tool but how you use it matters.

[boreal-sea]

I know you are confused about the divine feminine, but I think really you posted an excellent example of it just prior.

The tumblr heritage post with Fanny Flambeaux is an exemplar of the divine feminine.

You see, what we have here is a hoax, a sham, and enchantment because the doll wasn’t really purchased, it was made, a diy project. We can say, in some senses, that Fanny’s “fanny” is a neovagina and not a natal vagina because it’s not the same one she was born with. And now she has a super power.

So the divine feminine, you know… it’s like when someone sees a thing and says, “I can make this better with firecrackers or power tools or whip cream (just a few examples)” and then they do just that.

So bigclivedotcom, he’s got it. He’s embodying the divine feminine for us, and we can all do that if only we apply ourselves.

I am not confused about the divine feminine.

The concept of a "divine feminine" has existed throughout cultures throughout the ages. Its definition varies wildly.

However.

There was a very specific context in which I was discussing the divine feminine on the post you are referencing:

Radfems and tradwives, and the overlap between them regarding their similar definitions and usage of the term "divine feminine".

The radfem and tradwife definition of the divine feminine does not and can never include trans women, period, end of discussion.

But to be frank, I disagree with any definition of the "divine feminine" that posits women or females have a connection to nature or spirituality that is in any way different to the ways a man or male can connect to nature.

There just fucking isn't a difference. Having a cock or a cunt does not change how you connect to spirituality or to nature. Identifying as a man or a woman does not change how you connect to nature or spirituality.

Implying or supporting any sort of division that supports such a viewpoint is, in my opinion, sexism and misogyny, because it puts women/females up on a pedestal of purity.

[starsinkpop]

Masterpost

nicky • she/her • INFP-T • ♓️☀️♋️🌙♑️⬆️ • ‘92 • dancing, gaming, reading, artsy/diy stuff, anime • speaks German, English and a bit of French

•••

I’m doing Ateez and sometimes PAC readings for funsies. My readings are for entertainment purposes only and should not be taken seriously. I’ve been doing tarot readings for a few years now but I’m still learning. Tarot should be used as a guidance or when seeking advice, but it’s not a proven science. It’s a divination tool that’s mostly based on intuition and energies. Tarot cannot predict the future. Always keep that in mind.

Masterlist

Rules

[martyrette]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ Alternatives 2 AI Art ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

So, the AI Art discussion has been a huge hot topic for not only the WoW RP community, but the entire internet as we know it. Because we are such a creative community, it’s no wonder people want aesthetically pleasing visuals for their characters. However, not everyone has the finances for a commission or wants to slap down $100+ dollars for a fully rendered full body.

But in turn, AI Art steals artists’ pieces - most often without their knowledge. I’m not here to shame people who’ve used AI Art, but rather come together with others in the WoW RP community in order to bring awareness viable free & paid substitutes for people.

This post will be split into 3 sections: free, paid and DIY, each with an example! Links for each resource will be below.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ Free Visuals ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Below is a collect of 'doll' or 'dress up' sites that offer hundreds of different genres to dress up and create your own unique design with. Artists are constantly uploading new games all the time. Though majorly fem dominated, there are some good masc and andro ones!

Picrew

{Avatar Creator}

https://picrew.me/en

Azalea’s Dolls

{Dress-Up}

https://www.azaleasdolls.com

Doll Divine

{Dress-Up}

https://www.dolldivine.com

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ Paid Visuals ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

OKAY B4 YOU GO OFF (｡Ŏ ᗜ Ŏ ̆ ｡)

You can find some affordable artists to commission on these sites and even pay WoW gold for some. I tried to accommodate for those who are probably like me and a poor ass college student. Just hear me out, homie-

Artists & Clients

{Commissions}

A freelancing site where you can hire from a number of artists. There's checks and balances in place to make sure either or doesn't get scammed. Different artists will have different rules, commissions, expectations, etc. My experience with it has been good so far though and you can find art for most budgets!

https://artistsnclients.com

Fivver

{Commissions}

Another freelance site where artists offer up their services. Fivver is a little hit-or-miss in my opinion and there are people offering AI Art commissions on here as well.

However, you can really find some hidden gems for good prices!

It’s not limited to art either! There's other services you can purchase as well.

https://www.fiverr.com

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ DIY ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

They say if you want something done, do it yourself! Below is my inner Pinterest girl having a love child with my Roleplayer. All of the tools/sites I've added below are free, so you won't have to worry about the cost of it. So get your impractical DIY on. ~(˘▾˘~)

Photo Editing

{Photography}

Not all of your references have to be drawn. You can edit photos to make your character! Hell, all you really need is MSPaint at most.

https://www.gimp.org

https://picsart.com

Moodboards

{Photography}

✨AeStHeTiC✨- Moodboards are like little collages you put together of photos that relate to your character! You can add snips of text, locations important to your OC, outfits, features, you name it! You can find tons of photos here on Tumblr for it, as well as Pinterest and Weheartit, then mush them together in an editing software!

https://www.pinterest.ca

https://weheartit.com/about/app

Face Claims

{Photography}

If you’re apart of the Tumblr crowd, you already know about these. It’s like, picking an actor for your OC in a way! There’s HUNDREDS of Tumblr accounts dedicated to cataloging public figures for face claims - by description too! I’ll put their accounts down below so you can all get some ideas!

Draw

{Art}

It sounds a little silly saying it, but genuinely try picking up art yourself! Draw your own character with your own little gremlin RP hands. Roleplay was a very big driving force for me learning art in my youth. All you need to pencil and paper! There’s also plenty of free drawing programs you can use as well when starting out!

Also check with your local community centres, as many often provide free or cheap art classes!

https://firealpaca.com

https://www.clipstudio.net/en/

https://krita.org/en/

I hope this post has been helpful and given people even more tools to enhance their roleplay experience.

Until my next masterpost (or shitpost). P.S Sorry it took so fuckin' long to make I'm a slow poke. o7

[somediyprojects]

DIY Blue Ombré Chair

Project by Jesse:

I had seen this post on Design*Sponge featuring an ombre chair from Anthropologie, and immediately knew I wanted to try it. I had searched around for tips on painting this way, but didn’t find much. I figured I could just go for it, and make a tutorial of my own if it all worked out. Luckily I had a spindle-back chair waiting to be redone, so I got started right away! I really like it and would love a matching set. I think what was great about this project is that you get really satisfying results fairly quickly, making it a rewarding project, as well. Start to finish, it only took about 4 hours. Spray paint is really fun! You can see also see the original tutorial on my friend’s site, The Divine Minimalist. — Jesse

Materials

wooden dining chair

steel wool (paint-removal grade) or sandpaper

drop cloth

gloves

mask and goggles

spray paint primer

3 colors of spray paint (I chose gloss white, blue and navy blue.)

spray clear coat (gloss)

Optional: sawhorse, electric sander and pads, spray paint trigger

Instructions

1. Wearing gloves, begin sanding your chair with the steel wool. The steel wool may seem soft, but without gloves, after a few minutes you will see little shards of steel poking out of your fingers, so I highly recommend wearing gloves. Since we are painting over this coat, we’re just looking to smooth it out and then rough it up a bit so the paint will stick better. You can also move to an electric sander during this step if you have one; it will go much quicker. The third image below shows what it should like when done.

2. Now start priming in thin, even coats. You can re-coat a few minutes apart. Read the directions on your can of spray paint, as some brands will vary. Be sure to wear a mask and goggles and do this in a well-ventilated area! The image below shows one coat, but you’ll want a couple coats.

3. You can flip your chair over and get in all the nooks and crannies. Be sure to pad your sawhorse if you use one; otherwise it will scratch your seat. An optional tool that is inexpensive and will save your fingers is a trigger handle. It snaps onto any spray paint can and costs around $3.

4. After your primer coat is dry (I waited about 25 minutes, until it wasn’t sticky), you can start on colors. Plan out roughly where you want these to start and stop. I chose to split the chair in thirds. Take your top color, in this case white, and start coating past the limit of your white section. You don’t need to do the whole chair, since we will be painting over that. Remember, thin coats! It’s better to do many thin coats than to do one gloppy-drippy one. I did about four thin coats on the top half of the chair. If you do get drips or strange textures, just take your steel wool and gently smooth it out, and then paint over it again.

5. Once satisfied with the top color, move on to the blue. The goal here was to get the middle third in royal blue. Focus on getting the center of that section solid blue first. You’ll notice that the overspray is already starting to create the fade. Just focus on that center now, back and forth, in very thin coats. Below is a close-up of the seat. Notice that I haven’t gone up or down the spindles yet; I’m just focusing on a solid blue seat.

6. In little spurts, start spraying the spindles, moving quickly upwards and away from the chair. If you want, practice this paint job on cardboard first, though by now you probably have a good feel for the behavior of the paint, since you’ve painted the seat. The only real challenge here is avoiding a clean line and keeping your color heights even.

Try standing back a little and pulling the trigger in very short intervals. Now you can decide how far up and down you want this to go. I started low, because I had to keep adjusting my heights to get them even, which ran the color higher up the back! Do the same moving downward. Remember in the downward direction to spray past the point where you want your navy blue to reach. We want the lower white area to be gone, so spray a good 4–5 inches past where you’d like the blue-to-dark blue fade to happen.

7. I should have flipped my chair before my third color and done the bottoms of my royal blue. So after your blue is dry, I suggest you flip the chair and get that color on there. Or do it before you do the top blue. Either way, just get it done before the third color. This particular chair didn’t need extra protection, but if yours does, cover any areas behind your spray range with cardboard or paper bags.

Once you are satisfied with your middle blue, do the same technique for your third color. I started at the bottom of the chair and worked up. Once the area you want solid is complete, you can use the fade technique from above to spray up and away into the middle color. You’re almost done!

8. I used the sawhorse again to raise my work surface, but this would work as well on a protected floor. While your chair is drying, give it a good inspection (you can see my missing spot on the back leg below). You want to make sure your fades are around the same height.

9. Let it dry for 24 hours or longer if it still feels sticky to the touch. Then clear-coat the chair, again in many thin coats. I chose high gloss for maximum protection. Let that dry another 24 hours or so, and enjoy!