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ghostwriter (their grandma would tell them she'd lose half her soul)
#or smth smth. having a lot of Thoughts. anyways here's the piece i've been working on and sometimes u have to just say Done#there's a lot of thinks but i am maybe a bit tired and so tmr i'll come in and add all the Tags that i'd personally want to get from myself#maybe i'll reblog the extras tmr too. this is an incredibly self indulgent piece + it probably deserves a tag ramble essay or smth#ig for now we see how it stands for itself + in the meantime:#adamandi#beatrix valeria campbell#hello!! i'm back with belated tags yippee!! alright so for funsies i'm going to make it sound like i'm going bonkers over this :3#the eye shine... the glowy eye... it's like phaethon shine but also smth about eyes to windows to the soul and like#there's two beatrixes here! half the soul. lost part doing things specific to the phaethon and here it's portrayed as tearing off her name#because that's really; truly; when it all starts!! also notable for the ghostly beatrix is i did it more painterly and cloaked in shadow and#fading into the bg. i think i was super duper specificish about where the glow comes from! front lighting back lighting beloved!!! like help#let's put it this way- beatrix face always glowy. important parts of paper also glowy. it's just that different elements are turned away#from the viewer by each beatrix!! also also. let's talk about the very gently implied blood and red etcetera#like the red string is canonical and i love personally the whole red strings of fate thing even though it's not Here Applicable exactly but#that definitely was an influence! and also the blood in the bg... i'm starting to think this is a recurring trend. but anyway shadowy bea#the other strings hang while the red string loops!! so like that one string feels almost alive. it's a sort of whimsical i put on the same#as metaphorical glowy eye!! also also the eye is lowkey influenced by the whole idea of Eyes and Spotlights within the show and also glow#as in power as in heyyy you ever think about writing as a visual medium huh#speaking of writing!! there is no beatrix thingy complete in my head without text sorrry but the black text overlays are always so >>> to me#and in the sense of art styles and overlays shoutout to all the black crosshatching outline thingys because For Some Reason in my mind#of all the characters beatrix feels like the bnw ink printed illustrations you get in books idk#fun fact! i spent so long rendering this and that was fine i liked it! but then trying to figure out text to go on the papers was a Thing#i tried to do. but then gave up on! sometimes i have to pick my battles and graphic design is indubitably Not my passion bc Fonts#fun facts about this is i Actually did start with a quick sketch in mind and there's been so many changed elements. in the og the front#paper for instance had 'ardess murders' written on it and the back one said phaethon interviews.. i like the nominee list better it feels#more narrative-esque and less passive than her just holding her writing.! other elements that got discontinued were that#front beatrix was supposed to blur into the other ghostly beatrix but i couldn't do it without sacrificing clarity so... no... no blurry#oh and the red string morphing at the ends to smth more abstract was always there from the start!! og had more floating papers#and also a silhouette of vincent and a scalpel bc 'one who pulls the strings' but that (pun intended)! got cut (hahahahahahaha) (sorry)#used also to be a lot of print room clutter but that got cut to bc compositionally i made beatrix larger (learned lesson from last art)
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even though i feel like i can confidently tell when a piece of art is generative A/I, i really don't feel inclined or really even justified calling someone out for it due to the precedent it sets - especially when artists who DO make their own pieces get caught in the crossfire for being inexperienced or making the choice to be more free-form when it comes to character design / consistency...
#i can't even really put into words how I can Tell#other than like... random blurry details in areas that would not logically have those details blurred - for styles imitating digital art#what i mean by this is: you can kind of tell when and where a type of tool has been used when it comes to digital pieces#if it looks like an artist grabbed the smudge tool and used it in a small area surrounded by crisper details ... it seems like an arbitrary#- and thoughtless decision#especially when it comes to character design pieces#this blurriness is also present in a type of style that wouldn't see much reason to use the smudge tool at all .. such as a cell shaded -#- toon style with thick outlines#i think what bothers me about this whole debacle is how we're setting up an environment where people feel inclined to lie about using-#-generative tools... part of the problem is the foundation of a/i art to be using people's work without . permission. im sure a good amount#-of artists wouldnt have minded MAKING pieces to be used solely for these type of tools#since generative art has been used as an excuse to replace artists in an attempt to render their work unnecessary or obsolete ... it's -#- become politicized and viewed as anti-artist. which. fair enough. it was pitched and sold that way#but even if like... these initial problems were addressed i feel like there'd still be a lot of stigma associated with generative art#since a lot of people's beef with it is the fact that it feels soulless. and i feel like that has to do with how the generated works are -#- being passed off as completed full pieces and not have any transformative work done upon them#i always joke about like 'they should invent art that's easier to make' ... but i don't want the hard work on my end replaced#just some help really. or guidance on completing my own work. A/I could have -possibly- been used as another form of reference#(if it were more competent. i think it's sloppy as hell in its current state)#but before it was uh... hugely controversial and right when generative A/I got more competent? i actually saw it as a toy.#i wanted to play with it and see what would come out... im honestly just more-so frustrated that it's viewed as on-par or better than-#-work done by human beings. what makes something art to me is if it's been transformed by human intention and connection#and i don't get how it's snobby to dislike A/I art for that reason. why do y'all think artists love when people dissect and examine their-#-work ? art is about human connection. we have ancient monuments and abandoned cave paintings we know nothing about-#- but are captivated by because we want to know WHY they're there. WHO made them. and for what reason#and i think a/i art is a painful reminder for a lot of artists that to a lot of people art is only valued through aesthetic merit#no acknowledgement for an artist's hard work .. their life .. all the personal intention behind their work#it's the commodification being thrown back in our faces tenfold#another tag essay by me. shiloh
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reblogs off bc i dont want to start Conversations based on other peoples posts but re the whole "who is in control you or the character" question, i find it SO interesting because it's by letting myself discovery write that I (for me personally disclaimer) found the perfect balance between intuition and intention. which to preface "intution" is the easiest way to describe how the inside of my writers brain feels bc often i just get vivid characters/stories/images/scenes with little control at first and i have to figure out what they mean. anyway discovery writing is what works for my brain to make intentional decisions because i need to be amidst a draft to get the Story Cogs working, whenever i try to outline before a draft it's always been just throwing things at a wall bc it feels too far away, but because im also using the discovery element to do that it's like. that's where i think the whole i feel like my characters reveal themselves to me comes from. because im always discovering small bits about them even if i've written them for years just but because discovery writing is also what prompts me to be intentional about writing as i write something it's like both are happening at the same time. so the whole "who's in control" it's like...i don't think control is the right word for me at all because its not Me or the Character it's me trying to understand the character to understand + then write my intentions. like neither me or the character are in the drivers seat because there's no car we are in the middle of the story forest and at first i won't know what it means at all except that it is a Story. and my character will start going one way and sometimes i'll follow and pay attention to where they're taking me to figure out if this is the right path/where to go next. and sometimes i'll figure out how to read the compass first and realise i need to drag their ass in another direction
#anyway i just thought this was interesting because i used to think i needed to outline to be intentional/in control of my story#but outlines are too distant for me to feel like im in control so thats why theyre more organisational than creative for me#whilst we're infodumping on process i also dont like the whole are characters Like Real People or just Story Tools#like yes my characters are tools for the story just like how the story is a tool for demonstrating my characters#like again i dont think its one or the other for me#but i treat them as very 'real' (which this can be another tangent in itself) and intuitive is the best way to describe how i process them#but that doesnt mean there isnt intention and control you know#like the reason i describe my characters and stories as 'real' to me is simply bc they are very vivid in my brain#and that vividness often expands the bounds of the story#i want to go on the 'real' tangent the weight of that word one day#i think this makes sense if u know that for me i rarely get 'ideas' i get images#and characters/relationships#and i have to figure out what that means as a story#also no i dont think you need 'intuition' bc thats just the word i use for myself but i do think you need to understand#how intention works w your writing process and what it means for you to be intentional and what helps you be intentional#and sometimes that will be not considering any form of 'intuition' at all#beloved writeblrs i think i need to launch the dallonwrites substack i cant be doing these tag essays anymore!! i need to expand!!! someone#give me a podcast
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girl help not the consequences of my actions
#i have a meeting with a prof tomorrow morning about an essay im supposed to show progress on#which i have not started. nor have i figured out an exact topic for#im supposed to have an outline and all my sources and at least 2 pages 😭 rip me#i think im just going to tell him Listen homie. i am super behind on this essay. please help me figure out what i want to talk about#in all fairness i could have made much progress by now. but ive been procrastinating ❤️#anyway im giving up and going to bed. good night#text
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so much of my blogging whenever I have classes is complaining about them but erm. in my defense they're stressful and overwhelming
#So ermm to vent a little bit#i dont know how to do anything on my own so the expectance for me to be able to for these classes is a lot#Like for this thing i need to write an essay outline based on an introduction paragraph only. which i think? means i have to find sources#for the details on my own. which i dont know how to do#i do know /technically/ but i dont know whats good information and trustworthy sources and also there's so much stuff to sort through#i was never taught how to do it and now when i try its just. confusing and frustrating and exhausting and makes me too upset to even keep#trying to work#and im not even sure what all of these points in the outline means because where it probably wouldve been explained was the lecture which#was canceled and the powerpoint for this week doesnt cover it#and there's the textbook but textbooks are nothing to me i cant process and retain information from them#which hey sucks for my online classes that are wholey based around teaching yourself from the textbooks#(but i cant do in person classes due to transportation reasons + mental health reasons)#but augh#im such a guy who cant do anything by myself and getting the amount of help i need isnt an option idek how to ask for any amount of help#like yeah email my professors but tell them what? i dont know how to do the class i signed up for?#that i dont know how to do basics 101 school shit? like im confused about some of the work and by some i pretty much mean all#and eaugh its not a frustration i can push through because trying to push through it just makes it worse it tips past#''oh idk how to do this. fuck''#into ''oh god i dont know anything about how to function im literally worthless''#which. i think i said earlier? makes it so i cant. work on anything anymore.#but also its not an option for me not to work bc i cant fail bc ill be expelled or whatever and charged money and what then#joyousposting#negative //#anyway sorry for getting suicide ideation over school back to regularly scheduled blorboposting or whatever
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Oh also so many random opportunities are opening up for me. I don't talk about this here much but I'm in uni atm and I'm a huge insect lover, I'm friends with the head of the (tiny) entomology department at my uni, I'm taking entomology in the fall, etc, and the prof said he thinks I could possibly get some experience working in insect collections 👀 a lot of the class is collecting and pinning (and photographing ofc).. I'm super excited even though it is a 5 hour class at an inconvenient time of day lol
#broadly though my schedule in the fall IS inconvenient#unfortunately it probably means i have to quit my job. again#ugh#im so poor i really cant afford to be quitting my job a semester before i graduate but theres not much i can do#im in class all day every day EXCEPT for the days my workplace is conveniently (lol) closed#i dont know what im going to do#ideally i could do commissions to help me get through those months but i havent made any money from them so far so#i dont have high hopes#i have to keep on that grindset though lmfao i do want to be an illustrator#and i have started outlining my first article/video essay so keep an eye out for that?#im probably gonna try and get that done over the summer (with what time 🙄 idk)#anyway. sorry for rambling again#just putting my thoughts in order at 2200#i took my afternoon nap too late
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In hindsight, using the same notebook for my essay notes and my fanfic stuff was a mistake
I can't find ANYTHING
#im having to flip thru ten pages of fic to get to my outline notes#needless to say its very distracting#how am i supposed to focus on the essay??#(yes ik im on tumblr and thats not helping)#lnl
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I have started using voice to text to write my essays and let me tell you this is a fucking g a m e changer.
#i have like a 900 word outline rn and it actually makes sense#like this is so helpful for me you have no idea#writing#essays#academic#memes
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Realizing that I have free will is the most detrimental thing to me rn
#realizing that I can literally just convince myself that hw is just an option and not what I have to do is destroying me (academically)#I have an essay outline due today and I really just don’t wanna do it#like at all#I’m so tired like genuinely#I don’t care abt the difference between Halle cells and other air cells#I really don’t#idk why I took a class I dont care to learn abt#maybe I should just drop it and never let my mom find out…#hourvbrrhbrrhhrhrhrhr#help….#moo.txt
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spent all day beset by a headache that made it too hard to read. this is bad. i need to write another 5000 word essay in the next 8 days or so and i haven't started on research yet
#now the headache is gone but it's 12 am#so i have to go to sleep#at least i managed to write my outline#which should help with cutting down research time by making it more focused on specific facts and stuff#in contrast to my last essay where i had done the research but didn't really know how to say something that my teacher wanted to hear#i know what i want to say with this one i just need some sources to back me up#uni
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/fd72a3529b2d0fbb98a3c804ac572d80/c43c5dbd9f815c7c-86/s540x810/0a903f672243c97b5a5df2baea6644a7b928653b.jpg)
Perfect Essay Structure Made Easy with Free Essay Writer AI! Use Now: https://www.freeessaywriter.ai/ai-essay-outliner Our AI digs up essential points based on your topic, crafting a well-structured outline tailored just for you.
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So Is it Your Place Or Mine?
bfd!joel miller x younger!reader
summary: summer is over, but your affair with joel isn't (or, you grind on joel's belt buckle while sarah is at soccer practice)
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., exhibition kink (sarah is again a victim of this), brat taming (this two are soo into it), degradation kink, praise kink, lwk breeding kink, daddy kink (wow! it's a whole library of alexandria of kinks in here), fingering, dad bod!joel (best joel you mean), angst (oh guys look oh no it's alr starting), dirty talk!!!!! (they're so dirty ew i want it too wait who said that)
word count: 3,701 words
side note: and it became officially a series. hope u all are into this as much as i am because it's my first series ever !!!!! ALSO angst finally makes it way in this mess LET'S GO (i'mcrying i really looked up big texas belt to come up with a mental image in the middle of class, i'm so sorry to whoever sat behind me but idc abt me writing smut while at uni; we die like real men)
part: prev | masterlist | next
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/60f8ddd04422ae10d2fb27fc46805846/e88417f1d0516867-0e/s540x810/e59f36c5d4cadc429c877aa119701cc1e946a4bb.jpg)
"What do you mean you're not coming?"
It's been an unspoken rule that, even if you hate sports and the ball stays ten meters away from you, you always come to Sarah's soccer practice, cheering for her from your usual spot at the benches.
Except today, you aren't there. And now Sarah is calling you when she shouldn't, but that she doesn't know.
"I can't. I have stuff to work on stuff"
Bullshit.
Your laptop and the half-written essay sit untouched at the coffee table. The thing being touched in question, is something entirely different.
"Need help?"
His hands grip any free spot of your glistening skin, sucking on the rosy pink until it turns maroon red.
"I'm at my dorm, sorry"
Double bullshit.
Sarah doesn't even know your car is parked next to her dad's truck. She has about four hours to find out.
"I can drop by later then" she suggests.
His hot breath tingles against your neck as his nose caresses the spot. Bad girl, he mouths, like he wasn't the one who told you to pick up, despite his daughter's name on the caller's ID. You try to reach for a kiss, but his digits press on your hair, pulling you back with violence to forbid your lips from touching his. Bad girl, and your arousal drips with more intensity at the remark. Bad girl.
"No!" the answer comes quick, your voice strained, and Sarah jokes that you should take it easy with your classes, instead of suspecting anything else.
"Fine! I won't go if you don't want me to, but if you show up dead by stress, I'll be free of guilt"
He kisses the outline of your jaw with sloppy movements, like he just wants to busy himself while Sarah blabbers about the practice, and you keep trying to make her stop, but she tells you not to worry, that she's on a break right now, and the task to avoid whimpering at his rough kisses across your neck becomes increasingly difficult. A gasp escapes your lips when his teeth sink into your flesh. Mine, not to be said but to be felt. Seen by the rest. A pretty red that tastes like the blood he craves, the hunger akin to violence. Bad girl, and he's biting your lip to stop any other filthy noises from escaping. What if she hears?
"Are you okay?" concern laced on Sarah's tone. Guilt creeps through the cracks of the worn-out paint of his bedroom, one your friend had practically begged him to restore; the joke of it all was that was about his job yet he couldn't fix his own goddamn house. "Y/n, did you hurt yourself?"
I'm treating you well, ain't I, doll? and then he'd grin against the crook of your neck before looking at you, his dark blown-wide pupils gazing at you with a hunger you didn't think it was possible. They'd burn, and the fire didn't scare you: it was the warm your cold body needed. Tell Sarah her daddy ain't hurting her slut of a friend.
"I-I'm fine" you manage to choke out. Good girl.
Joel's lids feel heavy as a crown. But you like 'em rough, don't 'cha, baby?
"Should I worry?"
Joel pulls harder, your scalp burning at the harsh tug. Answer when I ask. You breathe in heavily, and Sarah keeps on asking you if you're okay, threatening to burst through a dorm door she'll find empty.
"N-no" you meekly answer, and he laughs at your demeanor. Under his weight, pinned down on the mattress, there's nowhere to run to.
"Is it okay if I-"
"Sarah I need to hang, okay? My head hurts. Bye" it all comes down in a rush, the words a vomit of excuses. You make sure the call has ended, and so does Joel, that in an act of mercy, has stopped. You both look the screen until the lockscreen is back up again, a picture of you and Sarah. Despite used to having his weight on top of you, your throat feels constricted.
"Do you want to traumatize your daughter, Mr. Miller?"
He's back at his task of kissing, making you moan and writhe at the sensitivity of your kissed and bit skin during the last hour. You hate how he takes his time―edging you; unbearable.
"What I want is you"
The lie comes out effortlessly from his teeth. He wants you, needs you, but does he really want you? His daughter's best friend, the college girl he was going to lecture just last summer―to live life and forget about him, yet couldn't. He lies to himself, saying he didn't because you felt asleep, but feeling a warm body next to him, being your beautiful frame of all people, made it hard.
The way he makes a moaning mess out of you, how he knows every spot of your body no one had been able to please before, how your cunt stretches perfectly around his cock, how you call his name like no one else had done. It belongs to you now, and this is a vice.
It's like he's got a wound, and you're the only balm that can soothe the pain. But the effect is temporary, and after you leave, he always finds himself wanting more.
The doubt on his eyes has your heart beating out of fear.
"Then have me, Mr. Miller" you dare.
When Joel smiles, barely noticeable, something flutters in your stomach.
"Al'ight, impatient one. We have sum hours until Sarah's back. Spread" his hand nudges your thighs apart, and you oblige, making Joel chuckle at your obedience. "Good girl, baby. S'good f'r me"
You let out a gentle moan at the praise, and he smirks at your reaction.
"Feelin' desperate, are we?" he taunts, seeing your pretty lips parted and face flushed, a whine escaping them.
"Shut the fuck up and just kiss me already" you beg, pussy throbbing painfully.
"Damn brat" he hisses, "ain't you such'a needy greedy slut?" his finger hooks on your panties, tugging you closer into him, your body rising to clash against his softer frame that has nothing to do with his rough demeanor. You can feel the bulge that has formed through his pants, making you moan in delight.
"Sorry, daddy. I'll be a good girl" you squirm under his weight, pouting lips and batting eyelashes. "Please, kiss me. Pretty please, daddy"
"Jus' cus you asked well" but he knows it's an excuse to capture your sweet lips until he's tasted all of you. You once heard old men kiss like they want to devour every inch of your mouth, to make space for their tongue like it's going to live in there, and they were right.
He pulls away from the kiss to pull out his shirt, revealing his soft body. Your hands itch, immediatly reaching for it with wandering fingers. He chuckles at the eagerness, but then he catches the subtle adoration in your eyes, and his breath hitches, heart stopping.
"What's wrong?" you look up, and it's gone. Maybe he imagined it.
Joel doesn't know why he feels dissapointed by it.
He tries to push the thoughts back, head diving down between your breasts, leaving sloppy kisses and messy trails of saliva with his tongue on each one. He gives a special lick to your hardened nipples, making you squirm.
"Gonna bend y'r fuckin' sexy little body on this sheets. Gonna make you cum all'over, until y'r scent is'mpregnated on 'em"
You groan at his words, fingers pulling down the pajama shorts you brought over, revealing your pretty black laced lingerine.
"Fuck, baby. You wore 'em for me?" he's asking, and you'd be crazy if you think the tone reveals devotion. Is Joel even capable of warmth?
He leaves a new trail of kisses, this time, running from your neck to your stomach.
"Gonna make you scream my name 'til that's the only thin' you know how to say" his hot breath tingles over your abdomen. He buries his face in there, the mustache and scruffy graying hair tickling the skin. "Gon' give you such'a load, this flat stomach of yours will be bustin' with my seed"
You whine at his filthy words, mouth agape slightly. He looks at your soaked panties, arousal on clear display now. Joel's cock twitches in the confines of his jeans.
He lets out a low growl. "Look at you, such'a slut for me. Drippin' wet like a fuckin' whore and desperate, when I ain't even touch you"
To prove so, Joel teasingly runs his fingers along your inner thigh, dangerously close to your soaking core.
He pulls your underwear down, taking them off.
"M'gonna fuck you real good, baby" his fingers dig on your thighs for support, the burning sensation of his calloused digits on your soft skin delicious. "Gon' take care of what's mine"
Mine.
The words ring loud and clear. The only other noise to be heard is his lips leaving wet sounds against your thighs. Does Joel even realize what he said? Or was it in the heat of the moment?
No, wait. Stop. Why do you care?
He begins to rub circles in your clit, coating his fingers in your dripping arousal, prodding the tense needy hole, making you moan in desperation.
"Please, daddy" your lips cry as you beg for him to do anything to remove the pain in between your legs.
"Please, what?" Joel teases, voice raspy. He keeps prodding your center, his digits in and out in a gentle manner, contrasting his hard hold on your thigh. You squirm and whine at the sensation, but maybe it's the dark on his eyes that's really responsable for making you shrink under his gaze. "Think 'm doin' this for ya'? To please ya'? No, baby" he tuts, "you were a bad girl. Almost got caught"
"If you didn't make me answer" you seethe, a moan almost escaping your lips when his fingers hit that sweet spot of yours. "Maybe if you didn't, she wouldn't-"
Joel removed his fingers from you, and you reduce to a moaning mess, begging for the release you were chasing and now it's lost.
"But you wanted'er to know, didn't ya'?" he unbuckles his belt and fumbles with his worn-out jeans, revealing a barely concealed neediness on his side. "Wanted'er to know where 'er slut of a friend was: at daddy's house, beggin' for his dick like a cockhungry slut"
"I-I want it. Want you dick" you barely choke out, lips parted at the sight of his pulsating dick's silhouette under his brief.
"Then take it, hungry one"
His tip buries deeply into your cunt before you even speak again, sliding inside in one swift motion. You gasp, as he fills you up completely, because despite the way your cunt stretches for him, or the way you have had his dick and need it, his girth never fails to amaze you.
"D-daddy" you moan, walls stretching to accommodate his size. Your sweet arousal drips down your thighs, coating Joel's balls. Fuck, doesn't he love to see you squirming under him. He's never had a woman like you before, wrapped around his finger. You may be a girl, but God, you feel so much better around his dick than anyone else: your cunt tenses around his cock deliciously, his dick twitching when he takes a look at your legs shaking and fucked out state.
"That's it, pretty girl. Beg for'it"
His words go straight to your core as you moan. "Please. Let me take all of you, Joel, please"
You said his name. Fuck. He shouldn't be this aroused, but the way you say it like that's the only thing you know, like it means something more, it makes his dick throb and heart sting. That he, Joel Miller, old bitter man, single dad, could mean more to a young pretty girl like you.
"Fuck" he grunts, grabbing a handful of your hair as he begins to pull out slowly, plunging inside of you with harsh movements. The sound of skin clapping is obscene as he begins to fuck you mercilessly. "Ain't you a noisy lil' thing, huh? You like that, baby? You like it rough?"
Your voice comes out shaky. "Y-yes, daddy. F-fuck, just like that. I like it a l-lot"
"Good girl" he grins satisfied with your respone, his thrusts getting rougher and messier. "Lookin' s'pretty with my dick's inside of you"
Joel changes angles without telling you, brushing your g-spot. A noise so loud and vulgar comes out of your parted lips, and you feel ashamed.
But then he's brushing a strand of hair from your face, with a delicacy you've seen reserved for his daughter only. It feels weird, and you try that it doesn't distract you from your looming orgasm.
"Joel..." you breath out his name.
"Yes?" with everything coming out of his mouth: possesiveness, neediness, pleasure. Like he'd give you the world if you just ask, despite telling himself he wouldn't.
"K-keep going"
Your gaze bores into his eyes with an intensity that almost makes him stop. Because the words are simple, but Joel's been alive enough on this Earth to know it doesn't mean just that.
Keep going. Don't stop. Don't end this. Don't let me go.
"Whatever m'princess asks if she asks 'em nice"
You scream in pleasure as his thrusts become deeper, his balls slapping against your cunt, as your slick begins to run down your thighs. Joel thinks he's going crazy at the way your folds take him, how tight you feel, and the loud noises you make, begging him to fuck you harder, to use you. Every thrust pushes you closer to the edge, writhing under his touch as you begin to see stars.
"You close, aren't ya'?" he laughs, but it's devoid of mockery. A subtle softness hides behind them. Ask nicely, and I shall give. "Gon' cream 'round my dick like a good girl, right?"
His digits dig in the flesh of your hips, guiding himself to fuck you harder, for you to take him better, caging your body under the sheets, pushing you even closer to your orgasm. You mewl loudly, tears in the corner of your eyes at the delicious burn.
If you told yourself a year ago you'd be crying over Joel Miller's dick, of all people, you'd probably laugh. But no college boys had been able to please you, less bring you to tears as you reach your orgasm. This is heaven, and you aren't ready to say goodbye to the paradise you found in summer just yet.
Your core tenses around him, body so close to finishing, hair a mess, eyes brimming with tears, and lips spilling the filthiest sounds ever heard to humankind. It's heaven, and Joel isn't ready to give it up just yet. Your pussy throbs, and as your juices mix as one, you roll your eyes and head back, your high approaching, knot in your stomach tightening faster. Before you can register, your mind goes blank and you're seeing stars.
You come around his cock, coating it in your arousal as Joel admires how you cream his member, tight walls almost pushing him out of you. He groans at your simmering cries, some tears coming out of your eyes.
"What'e fuckin' slut, baby. You sure are somethin' else" he chuckles, his thrusts messier by his own high approaching. "Wait for me, yeah, baby?"
You humm, as he buries deep into you, filling you up completely, as his hips stop their harsh movements when he feels the tension in his abdomen release.
"Fuckin' sweet" he uses a finger to clean some of the slick that's run down your leg. "Good girl"
He licks them off in an obscene display, making sure to never break contact.
"If you keep doing that, I'm gonna become a real bad girl" you taunt.
Then he pulls out of you carefully, doing his best not to spill too much of his load from your cunt. He grabs one of the corners of his sheets, cleaning some of his seed from your thighs. Joel should be careful, but all his foggy mind can muster is you being his in every way he can. Making you his. Mine. Mine. Mine. You plead him not to do that, but he argues laundry day is soon and he likes it better when it smells like you anyway. You confess with a cute light blush in your cheeks that you do the same when he comes over to fuck you in your dorm, sleeping better when the covers smell like him. He shouldn't feel like this: like it could be. But he allows himself to, even for an instant.
"Oh, yeah?" he pants, "what you gon' do?"
Your eyes travel to his jeans and untied buckle he hadn't wasted time taking off, rather just pulling them down.
"I have something in mind..." you wander off, remembering filthy thoughts of your first night together, how you briefly thought about it. "I-" you cut off, blushing furiously.
"Yes?" he holds your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him as his rough fingers press on the skin. "Remember what I told ya', baby? To ask nicely? 'Cause you said you'd be a good girl, so be one and tell daddy what'd ya' want"
You gulp, trying to hold his gaze. You never back down. You never back down. But the intensity of the shinning copper makes that insufferable character of yours to be tamed, boiling against the surface but just scratching, all screams lost. Is like he knows this power over you, acting on it with a benevolence so sick, it has you thinking loving Joel Miller isn't impossible.
You never back down, but being with Joel feels like walking over stones, always thinking about the next step and the ones that were, ghosts of the lingering doubts and afterthoughts behind every step you take. It's like there's a river below them, washing away regret.
But you're still here: water up your knees then and now over your head.
You're barely floating. You'd be willing to drown anyway.
"I want to ride your belt buckle"
There's silence in the other side, until its met with a light chuckle.
"Yeah?" Joel keeps on laughing, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. "S'that what that filthy head of yours be thinkin' on?"
"Stop it" you groan, covering your hot face with your palms. You wish you could erase that ugly smirk off his face. "I'm never telling you anything again, ever"
"Now c'mon, baby. I was jus' messin' 'round" his tone adquires a soft edge to it, tender warm hands removing yours from your face. "Don't cover your face, baby. You're too goddam pretty" you blush, and Joel better resist the urge to kiss you just for the sake of kissing you. "I didn't mean to make fun of ya'. You know y'can tell me anythin' that's goin' inside that head of yours"
"Then you'll let me?" your pretty eyes look up to him, shinning like the stars of the summer night sky months ago.
He can't deny you anything, and a small crack of fear wounds his impenetrable heart.
"Get'ere you filthy slut"
You eagerly climb onto his lap as he sits against the beds headboard, your thighs pushing against his belly.
"Now" he tries to put in a more comfortable position, his tired joints creaking. He avoids your gaze, coughing over his blush. "You do all the job, baby. I ain't gonna help you, this greedy pussy took all of my energy"
You giggle, moving until your bare pussy clashes against the cold. A shiver runs down your spine, the dried juices moistening again over the metal piece. His hands move to your hips, hands now soft as they hold you, and he seems unsure of it, both of your breaths coming out ragged.
"You said you weren't gonna help" you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. His face feels closer, and you can see lines time has marked across his features. "But thanks, daddy"
His heart takes a dangerous leap.
"'Course, baby" he smiles. "You know I spoil ya' too damn much"
You begin to roll your hips, sliding your pussy over the cold material, your arousal making a wet slick sound that bounces off the walls, a shiver down your back as you feel your slick already coating the front of it and the top of his jeans.
"Mmm, can't say no to me, can you, baby?" you mock, rocking your hips back and forth. A shaky breath escapes your parted lips, and Joel feels his renovated dick spring hard. You moan, your ass barely touching his now tense member.
"Quit runnin' that mouth of y'rs, baby" his digits dig on your skin, "or I'll bend ya' over again"
"Sorry, daddy" you feel the metal star on the middle digging inside your pussy, the borders of the imprint brushing your leaking cunt in a pleasant way. "I promise to be good"
"Do" he grunts, "you're runnin' out of time, doll"
You close your eyes, movements more quick and erratic, little moans leaving your body as you groan.
"Tell me how this lil' experiment of yours feelin', baby"
"F-feels good, daddy. Fuck" you groan, lifting your hips a bit as you grind yourself down across the material. "So so good, daddy. Thank you, daddy"
"Mmm, that's right. Now be a good girl and come for me. Let me see that pretty face of yours when ya' come over ma' belt"
You let out a shaky breath, juices spilling over his jeans even as you see stars. He chuckles, enamoured at the sight.
"You gonna need help with that?" you point out his boner.
Oh, aren't you a doll? So kind-hearted.
"That's okay" he breathes out, tiredly. He thinks of the next trip to the bathroom, the image of what he'll fuck himself to clear now.
You smile at him, for the first time forgetting this started as a blowing-off-steam-time or transaction.
For a moment, it feels like it could be.
"Jus' seein' you cum all over me so prettily is'nough, baby"
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Me tryna do the math on my assignment I left Waaaaay too late like is it gonna be better to submit the "draft" (a 200ish word list of possible points to hit with a shitty bibliography) or take the automatic 5% off the grade for submitting it after the deadline but have a rushed together mash of an essay that hopefully scrapes the minimum word count and has properly formatted referencing (possible 10% grade loss depending on where they count each "day" after the submission date and the teach has set the deadline to 5pm like he's gunning for employee of the month in hell).
I think late submission is my better play here but it's half one in the morning and I wanna sleep and never wake up. Gonna be a miracle if I get a passing grade on this essay tbh and that ain't ideal since it's worth a quarter of my overall grade in this class...
#chirping wren#uni life#i have not been helping myself at any stage of this cluster fuck#and i can't even pull an all nighter because i have work tomorrow#and by the time i finish work i will only have 3 hours to finish up the essay#but also i don't even have a passable outline yet
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video editing is going well ive got all the clips paced how i want mostly and figured out how to scale them so now itll just be a final sweep for like adding text and checking if things need shuffled around at all
#its looking like the total time will be around the 1 hour 20 minutes mark so good news for hour long video essay fans#although essay would i think be a very strong word for this i made an outline and then rambled at a camera for a While#also im learning i make mouth pops before i start talking like#a Lot#so thosell need taken out too#but for those parts ill have to wait until travis gets home to ask him to show me osnfksnfkdndn#specifically ill need help with a) adding text#b) stretching out still frames? like pausing the action for a bit while i ramble then picking up again once i get back on course?#c) finding out if theres a way to adjust the positioning for a whole row rather than one at a time bc doing em one at a time is annoying
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