Eight Icons & Two Headers 

The Last of Us Headcannons

Summary: Headcannons about TLOU2 characters 

A/N: I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a bit, I’ve ben stressed so I thought I’d write for my comfort characters lmao 

Warnings: Slight NSFW mentions, TLOU2 spoilers 

Word count: 2.4K

Keep reading

how to keep people in character: a guide

I have gotten some requests for advice on how to write specific characters, but the underlying principles to keeping characterizations canon-compliant can apply to writing anyone in any series. Better yet, this advice may help you come up with character interpretations that feel both canonical yet original (and distinct from mine!).

You can reduce characterization to three basic principles:

1) Habits and speech patterns

Habits and speech patterns serve as “shortcuts” that immediately connect the character to the canon. The audience recognizes these cues and will associate them to the actual character.

Speech patterns are particularly important to keeping a character recognizable. As soon as the speech pattern of a person deviates from canon with no explanation, the suspension of disbelief will break for an audience. A common issue I see in shipping fics is that people will make a character give the love interest a pet name that just would never leave their mouth in canon-compliant situations.

Habits can be verbal tics (e.g. they say “babe” a lot), bodily motions (e.g. touching their hair or pushing up their glasses), behavioural trends (e.g. eating a lot), or even phrases that come up often. The latter I find is underused but very effective. Here’s the thing about people in real life: they will repeat phrases and stories, sometimes even verbatim, to different people! If you lift a line out of the show or book and re-contextualize it, it’ll immediately feel like the canon.

Habits come with two caveats:

Do not overuse the tics. It can be annoying and intrusive, especially when used more frequently than in canon! 

Do not rely too much on these habits for characterization. Your character may come off as a shallow imitation of canon without “substance” if so. 

The next two tips will help give your characterization substance and originality.

2) Drivers in decision-making and thought patterns

People in real life often have patterns in the decisions they make or the thoughts they have because of some kind of underlying motivation, whether or not they are cognizant of it. The same will apply to well-written characters in fiction. Try to think about any significant decisions the character makes in canon and why they might exist. (Hot tip: If these motivations are not explicitly stated in the canon material, this is where you can come up with some extremely juicy headcanons!)

Understanding the fundamental drivers behind the character’s actions will allow you to extrapolate and write what they’d do in the situations in your fanfic. These non-canon situations can include relationships! It’s a common issue for romantic relationships in fanfic to feel OOC because the characters act inconsistently with their canon decision-making and thought patterns solely for their love interest.

Examples of common drivers in fiction:

Abstract values such as freedom, revenge, survival, self-preservation. (If you’re writing anything political, try to figure out how they value conservatism vs liberalism, anarchy vs authoritarianism, etc).

Baggage and trauma relating to familial issues or past relationships, which can often result in maladaptive trends in behaviour or hard-lined moral codes and ideals.

Significant relationships that affect their needs, goals, etc. Pay attention to platonic, familial, or romantic bonds that are strongly featured in the canon.

All these examples are interrelated. Often our abstract values will arise from baggage, which then influence relationships, which in turn influence our values. Try to think about how each of these types of drivers may relate to one another for your characters.

Stories tend to have the most layered characterizations when the author has identified two drivers that are in conflict with one another, or one that leads to opposing behaviours. This can also be the starting point for character growth, whether it’s a hero’s journey or descent into a villain role.

3) Cultural context

Cultural context is a subcategory of drivers that I often find is overlooked. 

The culture in which someone was raised will often influence their decision-making habits, whether they conform to it or outright reject it. Recognizing the cultural context for a character can be very useful for figuring out cool little headcanons or extrapolating behaviour/opinions in the absence of canon material.

Some examples of how culture contributes to behaviour:

The kind of art and hobbies they enjoy, or at least are on their radar. 

Knowledge they would have about certain topics—even mundane things like musical instruments, certain skill sets, etc.

Their judgments on themselves and other characters, as well as the values they’d project onto their relationships.

The actions they would take when trying to conform to social norms of the time period—or even the set of actions that might occur to them!

It’s a pet peeve of mine when characters behave in a way that ignores their cultural context, simply because it won’t feel realistic! Since I’ve been relating this to shipping, I will make this point: what time period and country (or coded culture) is this character in? What are courtship norms like? And, if we’re going to go the nsfw route, what “interests” (haha) would exist?

Here are some quick examples of this analysis applied to two different characters: Hakuryuu Ren (Magi), Daryl Dixon (TWD). These are characters I’ve gotten requests for—let me know if anyone is interested in others!

Keep reading

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

I don’t believe you, it’s 1899…

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist

Word count: 7,774

A/N: Howdy! So I wanted to say that the start of this is a little cliche because I literally couldn’t think of how I wanted to do it so I settled with the whole, this random man is in your house sort of thing. ANNND I’m skipping thanksgiving in this because i’m from the UK and I have no idea what you do with it.

Also can we appreciate how good looking my Arthur is in that gif. I screen recorded it myself just for this fic. 

Also Merry fuckin’ Christmas y’all! and if you don’t celebrate Christmas, I hope you’re having a wonderful holidays! 

Keep reading

i beg for more peepaw or Thomas spice 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

┊ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭.

┊ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒) ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐭 ( 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 ) 𝐱 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.

┊ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓/𝟏𝟖+! 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡, 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭.

┊ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝟑,𝟐𝟖𝟕.

┊ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 @wanderbreadsworld 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚! 𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞. 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜 𝐧𝐠𝐥. 💀 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐲. 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲’𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲! ❤️

The expanse of empty space next to you was devoid of warmth, marked only by a faint indent of where Thomas slept. Cicadas and crickets sang just outside in the middle of the night, but that wasn’t really why you woke up. With Thomas’s hectic schedule, you hadn’t gotten to see him as much, he wasn’t home as often. You missed him, missed his massive form slumbering next to you, missed his face, missed his presence.

Sometimes you wondered if you thought about him too much, and not all of it was exactly wholesome. Your mind produced debauched fantasies of what you wanted him to do to you, especially after getting intimate several days prior. You shivered, folding one arm beneath your head as you rolled over to face the vast amount of space next to you.

Admittedly, you were practically craving his touch, craving his grasp. Everytime you really dwelled upon his size and his capability of splitting you in half, it got you so hot and bothered, tangled up within some feverish lust that you couldn’t shake. Your stomach was reduced to mush, sloshing with a very pressing anticipation.

You shut your eyes, thighs squeezing together to fight the wave of arousal that washed over you. That empty space next to you was singing to you, coaxing you to go and look for Thomas. You didn’t really want to bother him, but at this point, it was nearly unbearable — you couldn’t help yourself.

Flinging forward from the thin sheets, you tugged your nightgown back into place, skittering off of the bed and to the creaking wooden floorboards. You made sure to pull on your slippers — the house wasn’t exactly in the most stellar of shapes, and you wanted to avoid getting splinters as you crept down the stairs, arms loosely wound across your torso.

It was eerily quiet throughout the Hewitt household, which was something of an abnormality, not that you minded. The closer you got to the hefty basement door, the more you could hear the scuffling of tools and belongings, which promptly ceased when you slipped past the gap, shuffling onto the top of the stairs that descended into a dimly-lit darkness.

Your knees wobbled the whole way down, nearly knocking together as you clutched onto the rickety railing, holding yourself as upright as you could. You hated being so needy like this, afraid that you might suffocate Thomas with your clinginess, but you figured he would make it known if you were hounding him — he hadn’t yet, thankfully.

A hulking shape came into view at the bottom of the stairs, shadow eclipsing any sliver of light that fell across your trembling form. There was a flicker of happiness that danced within his eyes, which were devoid of the usual stoic melancholy. Thomas grunted, his stare falling upon your shivering form, assuming that you were cold.

As soon as you hit the step closest to him, thick arms were tangling themselves around your form, practically squeezing you against his chest, and he was absolutely warm, like his own radiator. Thomas swept you right off of your feet. He held you like a doll, one leg collecting underneath the backs of your thighs as the other settled against your ribcage.

“Oh,” It wasn’t a proper distraction from the heat pooling between your legs, only furthering the sensation as Thomas moved toward the large chair next to his workbench, sitting down with you right in his lap. Those big, calloused hands were smoothing over your goosebumps in an attempt to keep you warm, and that only made you whimper. “Thomas.” You didn’t really want him to stop, but you weren’t shaking because of the cold.

Thomas appeared perceptive, slowing his hand, attention fixated upon you. You made the same noise from when he’d eaten you out, keen enough to start to connect the dots in regards to your current state. With a resonant grunt, he watched you quiver, planting your hand on top of his, which he promptly held, massive fingers enveloping your dainty hand.

“I’m not cold.” You whisper, mouth going dry, tongue pressing against the inside of your cheek. You wondered if he would even pick up on your vulgar implications, and you sat there atop his lap, burning so hot with need that it likely seeped into him.

So that was what you wanted.

In the spirit of transparency, Thomas was feeling the same way lately, wistful about you, yearning so much that it made his heart ache. Your frenzied need for him was mildly amusing, maybe even bewildering to him, but this was what he loved about you — you were very unpredictable, in a good way. Thomas never expected you to want more, but here you were, practically shaking in his lap.

He rocked his leg against you a time or two, silently teasing you about the state of your neediness. Thomas pushed his lips against the side of your face, watching you scramble to try and press your core into the muscles of his thigh, but he locked you into place, watching you let out some hapless mewel. Thomas wasn’t exactly the teasing sort, but he had to this time, just to spur on your incendiary desire.

It would be the first time for both of you, and that was a thought that had Thomas foaming at the mouth. The momentary lightheartedness seemed to die out completely, replaced with a seriousness and something amatory. Thomas wanted to make sure it was good, but even then, he wasn’t sure what was defined as ‘good’ when it came to losing one’s virginity.

“I need you, Thomas.” You nearly moaned, listening to the hitch in his breath, his hooded glower as you guided his hand to the apex of your thighs, heart hammering within your chest. Thomas looked absolutely enthralled, watching where you took his hand, right to your soaked cunt, letting him feel just how much he wound you up, made you unbelievably needy. “Need you so bad.” You whispered.

Thomas’s satisfactory rumble was akin to the growling of a truck engine, sending shivers up your spine as he felt against your cunt, all wet just because of him — just the thought of him made you like this. With furrowed brows, he let you move his hand to exactly where you needed him most, slipping past the thin fabric of your panties, right to your throbbing slit.

His mouth crashed into yours, bruising and devouring you whole with a sloppy, uncouth passion. Thomas was still trying to really figure out the whole kissing thing, but you didn’t mind whatsoever, feeling the bite of leather against your cheeks as you reciprocated his fiery kiss. He kept his hand poised against your cunt through the kiss, ghosting over your clit.

It was dizzying, intoxicating — your head was spinning in circles, drunk on both desire and a festering need for your hulking lover. Thomas was perfect to you, extraordinary even if he didn’t see himself that way. A breathy moan elicited from you as his index finger languidly circled around your clit, sending you spiraling even as you kissed him.

“Please,” Your whine was breathy, high-pitched, and your whimpers were absolutely captivating. Thomas’s jaw tightened, cock twitching and hard within his pants as it began to strain against your thigh, highlighting his own amount of lust. It all seemed to be mutual, really. “Please, Tommy, please.” With a moan, you felt him pick you up right off of his lap, hauling you against the workbench instead.

Some depraved part of you didn’t want something soft and sweet — you wanted him to obliterate you, turn you into a pile of mush, make you scream and sob until your throat ran hoarse.

The plane of his broad, bulky chest was snug against your back, towering over you to the extreme, as if he were filling in the entirety of his height, making himself as large as possible. Those thick, calloused hands grabbed at your hips, fingers molding you as if you were made for him, ragged breath being drawn out from his leathery muzzle.

Hot, possessive kisses would be placed all along your neck and bare shoulders, consuming and tinged with something desperate. It paled in comparison to your pathetic, pitiful state of need, but it was enough to make you rock back into him, listening to his thunderous grunt. His hand slithered between your legs again, shoving past your panties, like a heat-seeking missile as thick fingers rubbed at your cunt.

An inhuman sound burst from the back of your throat, as if you choked upon a moan, but it produced something different. Thomas was so massive, colossal compared to you, and that only furthered arousal from both parties. One hand clapped into the supple flesh of your haunch, tugging your leg apart, letting out another rumble as he stroked at your clit, wet enough to cover his fingers in some thin sheen.

“T—Thom—“ The words coagulated in the back of your throat, hips attempting to grind themselves into his hand. Your cunt clenched around absolutely nothing, vision swimming with a blurry haze as he touched and pleasured your poor clit. You didn’t think it could get any better until you felt his erection straining against the curve of your rump.

His straining, pulsating cock was practically begging to be inside of you, threatening to burst if he didn’t find some semblance of relief soon. Thomas wanted to treat you gently, be the best lover to you for your first time, but his concept might’ve been skewed. Many of the animals he saw were brutal, and it was callous, without feeling.

Thomas loved you dearly — and he needed to show you just how much.

You almost expected him to spin you around, but something explosive erupted within your gut as Thomas bent you over the bench at the hip, leathery hand tracing up the smooth plane of your back, tangled within your nightgown. He was decisively swift about bunching the fabric up, letting it pool around your hips as he yanked at your panties.

Prying the thin bundle of fabric away from your cunt, he burrowed himself against you, aching cock throbbing and grinding into your backside, enough to where you could feel the heat bleed through. Thomas was getting a little too excited, especially with your newfound position. It didn’t exactly seem correct — he almost thought about letting you be on top of him.

However, you weren’t vocalizing any sort of disapproval. You careened back into his groin, pushing your hips against him, moaning and sighing his name, absolutely desperate for him to pound you into oblivion, no matter the amount of force. You knew how big he was, and that any roughness would threaten to split you into two, but you didn’t care.

Thomas’s pupils became blown out, like black saucers as you rocked yourself into his clothed cock. The possessive growl that ripped from his throat made you tremble, and he was beginning to throw all inhibitions to the wind, hastily wrestling with his belt and fly of his trousers. He eased his cock out, slathered with precum and enough to really break you in.

Your knuckles were white as you gripped the edge of the bench, feeling his cock split past your folds, thick and fully erect. You weren’t sure if you’d be walking tomorrow, but at least it would be from this, from the overwhelming amount of pleasure you were about to experience.

Thomas began to push forward, somewhat nervous because it was his first time and yours. Maybe he should’ve been doing something different, but he pressed on anyway, his massive cock beginning to bury its way into your tight slit, feeling your cunt clench around him. He grunted, nearly letting out some husky groan at how good you felt.

“Please,” Another wanton moan left you as you hung your head down, feeling his big hands splay out on either side of your hips, squeezing into pliant flesh. “Please, Tommy.” You panted, wanting him to move and move quickly. His sluggishness was likely experimental, and the more you begged, the more his desire grew.

He was torn between going slow and taking it easy, and going absolutely ballistic — as soon as you pushed your hips backward, cunt taking more of his cock, he snapped. With that ironclad grasp he maintained upon your hips, Thomas began to go full steam ahead, hips rutting forward with an impressive speed. He was like a bull out of the pen, already beginning to fuck you.

It was ecstasy.

It was rough, unyielding, messy and sporadic as Thomas fucked you within an inch of your life, groin clashing against your rump, flesh to flesh as he drove his cock in and out of you. He set a brutal pace almost immediately, listening to your myriad of breathy whimpers and blissful cries, back arching and hands digging into the splintering wood of his workbench.

Thomas sounded like the crackling of thunder, his grunts purely animalistic and feral as he pounded into you, cock battering your cunt with nearly all of the force that he could muster. Being bent over like this might’ve sounded a little callous at first, but you were enamored, nearly sobbing from pleasure and the snugness — you felt so full, stretched around his hefty cock. You didn’t really care about the discomfort as he took your virginity, you were too far gone to notice.

“Thomas!” You couldn’t smother your volume, and if you woke the entire Hewitt household up, so be it. Thomas was rutting into you as if you were some bitch in heat, pounding into you so hard that you were rocking forward, the workbench creaking and groaning in protest. You were absolutely soaked, insides battered by the heft of his cock.

Thomas was getting a little too voracious, and he was afraid that he was going to hurt you. His hips stuttered and he began to slow down, hunching over you as he saw the faint glitter of tears stinging your eyes. He knew that he needed to slow down or stop completely, brows drawn together in a look of concern. You were moaning even still, desperately pushing your hips back into him.

“No, no, don’t …” You huffed, shaking your head back and forth. “Please don’t stop Thomas, please.” You begged and pleaded, your body a trembling mess as he let out a softer grunt. “Keep going, Tommy, please!” Tendrils of precum and intermingled arousal oozed from your cunt, and you kept squirming around, desperate for more.

He let out a ragged, husky rumble, watching you cry and whine, your pleas dissipating into needy whimpers that drove him crazy with lust. Thomas hadn’t had anyone beg for him like this, beg for him to demolish them in the way that he was with you. You were the very first, and you would be the very last. He couldn’t get enough of you.

You couldn’t take him not moving, his cock still swollen and full inside of you, lacking any semblance of friction or ounce of movement. You needed him so bad that it was almost paralyzing. “Please.” You whined, the breath nearly ripped from your lungs when he roughly jutted his hips forward, cock beginning to reassume his previous pace.

Listening to you begging for him to pound your cunt again was horribly enrapturing, and Thomas felt obligated to do so now, flying into that brutal pace, quick and needy, almost as needy as you. He wasn’t dragging anything out, he wasn’t fucking you with slow, deliberate thrusts — everything was fast-paced and hasty, cock obliterating your cunt with all the force of a battering ram.

He couldn’t stop.

Thomas was fucking you senseless, almost to the point where he was using you, a notion that irked him. His grunts and your moans filled the space, consuming the feverish atmosphere as he clashed into your rump with his groin, cock pushing into you as far as it could go. He was quick, only pulling back a mere inch or two before clapping back into you, tugging your hips back against him with a powerful command.

You were actually drooling, feeling a hot salivation pool around the corners of your mouth until it dribbled onto the workbench. Your face was nearly pressed into the wood as you were unable to keep holding yourself up at this rate. Your noises were drowned out by the feral, darker sounds of his growls and grunts, cock pulsating with shockwaves of heat that made you shudder around him.

He could see your legs shaking like the leaves on a tree, but Thomas was keen on chasing after his orgasm, wanting to cum inside you, make you feel every palpitation. You moaned his name as if it were the only word you knew, occasionally rocking back against him, only to be rewarded with another sharp thrust of his hips.

The speed of his desperate rutting didn’t slow down even when you came around his cock, flying into your orgasm as if you’d been thrown into it. You were nearly crying, tears of pleasure stinging your eyes as Thomas continued to rail you, hunching in over you, head hung, eyes all glazed-over with a salacious, lustrous shimmer.

“Thomas.” You panted, chest rising and falling, mouth slack and coated in your own drool. It might’ve been embarrassing in any other situation, but you felt so good that you were literally blinded by pleasure. You were dizzy, feeling his cock bury itself into your needy cunt a few times over before the dam broke.

Shamelessly spilling his seed inside of you, Thomas grunted, bringing you back up against his chest as he pumped you full of cum, that breeding urge always prevalent whenever he came. Any excess happened to slather the insides of your thighs, warm and sticky, and you collapsed back against the workbench, legs feeling like jelly, like they lacked any structure whatsoever.

You had to catch your breath, but you would’ve been lying if you said you didn’t want him to do it all over again, right here and right now. Your eyes were blurry, and you hastily blinked the tears of ecstasy out, using the collar of your nightgown to wipe your mouth clean of drool, skin covered in a thin layer of perspiration.

Thomas let out a softer rumble, but he was terrified that he’d gone too far, that he hurt you. You weren’t hurt in the slightest, but your quivering legs and disheveled state said otherwise to Thomas, who pulled out of you with some lewd pop, collecting you into his burly arms.

The concern was obvious within his eyes, but it steadily ebbed away when you hit him with some nonchalant, dazed smile. He stroked your cheek, letting you lean against as he held you close, pressing a kiss against your forehead. You were certainly wanting more — you were hungry for it.

“I want you to do that again,” You mumbled, fiddling with his tie, giving him the biggest pair of bedroom eyes that you could muster. “You won’t hurt me, Tommy. Promise.” Your voice was much too saccharine to properly ignore, and you could hear the grunt forming in Thomas’s chest.

Thomas wasn’t about to deny you anything, but one thing was for certain — you weren’t going to be able to walk tomorrow. After a moment of contemplation, he set you onto solid ground again, watching you grapple onto the workbench for support.

Before you had time to say anything else, he was bending you over again.

Babes, art the clown would definitely be the type to tickle tf out of his lover and I need a few headcanons on it 😂

A.T.C. — 'TIL YOU PISS YOURSELF !!

╰┈➤ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 : art the clown &&. ticklish female reader

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚(𝘀) : MINORS AND BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT , art is a perv and an annoying piece of shit

𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥'𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘 : i love this request so much, oh my god ! he'd definitely do this ! i wouldn't be able to handle that myself, i developed such a fear of being tickled from when i was little thanks to a family member who constantly did it until i was suffocating on my own laughter 😭

• once art discovers that you get into that familiar, giggling fit from each half-gloved digit violently strumming against your skin—you’re doomed. quite literally, as he most definitely isn’t the type to respect boundaries or stop his advances.

• the first time he had done it, it was unintentional. he was merely being affectionate, snuggling you in front of the television, his hand slyly trailing up your side in order to get a good grope at your breast, but once you let out a squeak and involuntary chuckle, swatting his hand away, that evil grin slowly crept and seemed to almost split his face in two, and you knew that look could only equal one, sinful thing. your secret was tarnished. ‘ohh, so you’re ticklish, huh?’ his playful eyes appeared to say.

• ever since, he’d find every moment you'd least expect for it to occur, to tickle you mercilessly. he was a clown after all, and making people laugh was part of his devilish charm. whether you're in the shower, while you’re asleep or to wake you up, when you walk past a supposedly empty room and he pops out of it to flutter his fingertips all over you, you’re definitely in for all kinds of surprises.

• besides squeezing that wretched airhorn into your face whenever he sensed that you weren't emotionally feeling the best, his other go-to method was, of course, tickling you. it always worked, too, silently bragging that he got you to crack a smile whilst grumpy. he loves your smile, though he also thinks that yours is no competition in comparison to his and his self-proclaimed "pearly whites."

dating tommy miller would include

general

- family is obviously a very important factor to tommy. he has his brother, ellie and you. nothing is gonna come between that. he will protect you and his family until his dying breath.

- with tommy’s protective nature, if you’re gonna go on patrols, he would feel more comfortable if you were paired with him and joel rather than someone else. mainly, it’s because he can control the area if something happens verses if you are with someone else. but he won’t push for you to be with him. if you want to do patrol with someone else, he’s fine. but that person will get a stern talking to before you head out.

- tommy is very open. he’ll tell you about his family, joel and sarah. how he struggled to survive, his nightmares, everything. he wants to make sure you are on the same page as him. but he won’t push for you to do the same. he’s the type of person that will talk about it to get it off his chest and he knows not everyone is like that. so if you need time before talking about something, he’s a patient man.

little things

- tommy likes to impress. he knows who to woo you and in turn, apologize/bribe his way back into your good graces. but rarely does he have to do that. you mean the world to him so he tries to go out of his way to show it. whether picking up something you had stated you missed from old world or if he just happened across something that he knows would bring a smile to your face, he’s grabbing it. 

- tommy, like his brother, wanted to be a singer. so you might catch him singing to himself when he’s bored or when he thinks no one is listening. he has a beautiful voice and will sing for you if you ask him enough times. he blushes with embarrassment if you catch him and will deny that he was singing all together.

- as seen, tommy is a crack shot with his scoped hunting rifle. and he will take any chance to show off his abilities if you happen to be out on patrol with him and joel. he will let you take a shot at some targets, giving some pointers and giving high praise of you’re able to shoot a couple of infected.

affection

- nickname, tommy is 100% a user of sweetheart, darlin, and angel. he thinks their fitting for you and loves seeing you smile whenever he calls you by one of those nicknames. more often, he uses them over your actual name. sometimes even using said nicknames to refer to you, before he blushes realizing his mistake and calls you by your name.

- hugs, loves them. he will take any chance he can to wrap his arms around you. whether it’s from behind as he gently kisses your temple or just simply coming up to hold you against him, he will take it. he just loves having you close by, and if he feels that hugs would be inappropriate, his hand will be on you somewhere. sitting down? thigh. standing? on the small of your back.

- kisses, much like hugs, tommy will do the same with kisses. he usually will kiss your lips regardless of present company. it’s short and sweet, nothing too heated. those are saved for more private time. other places he’ll kiss are your forehead/hairline.

- holding hands, many of the residents of jackson can always find you tethered to tommy in some way. usually through hand holding. the two of you will walk up and down the street with your hands clasped together, regardless of the weather.

- cuddling, tommy is just overall a soft man, hard man. he’s a sucker for his lover and any chance he can get to be near them is a check in his book. cuddling is for when patrols were rough, or when he’s just so dog tired he can barely get his boots off before he falls into the bed. along with the hugs, he will wrap his arms around you and hold you close.

had a vision (more in reblog) (← that's a link btw you can click on it)

New Face - Daryl Dixon x reader

Summary: Daryl and the group take in a new member and Daryl seems to take a liking to them.

Word Count: 1715

Warnings: Swearing, age gap

A/N: This is my first AU so it’s probably not the best, but I will be trying my best as this is for practice anyways! Also for the age gap: the reader is over 18 of course!

------------------

Rick, Daryl, Michonne and Glenn were out on a supply run to get more medical supplies for Hershel and baby food for Judith, not expecting to bring home any new company. That was until they made it to a store that was basically ransacked, little to no supplies, and a few walkers they ended up killing.. 

“Michonne, have you found any yet? Even a little bit?” Rick called out quietly as to not attract the attention of any lingering walkers nearby if there were any, continuing his search in his aisle. “No. This place has been swept clean of all the things we need…” She sighed defeated, “I guess we have to find somewhere else.” Meanwhile Daryl and Glenn were near the back, searching through the pharmacy for anything they needed and anything that seemed useful; stuffing their bags with pills and rubbing alcohol. When Daryl turned the corner, he didn’t expect to see this figure that looked quite beaten up and wearing tattered clothes, cowering in the corner. He immediately could tell they were scared, “Hey I’m not gonna hurt you. It’s okay, you’re safe.” You looked up at this strange man, watching him put his crossbow down and hold his hand out, seeing this other man come walking over to check what was happening out. 

“What happened to you? Why are you alone? Do you have anyone?” You shook your head and took the older man’s hand who helped you get up onto your shaking legs, looking down as you were alone. You lost your camp, your family, your friends. Everything and you had to keep running to survive on your own, running out of food and water. You were tired and weak, wishing you would get some luck in this building only to be surrounded by the walkers which forced you to hide into the pharmacy. “N-No, I don’t h-have anyone anymore. I thought I would finally find some food here, but there’s nothing…” That’s when you got dizzy, letting out a small whimper as they caught you. “Alright, you’re really weak, aren’t you? C’mon.” 

They brought you out to the front of the store to these two others who looked at you strangely, listening to the two men who found you explain to them. “They seem very weak and in need of some food. We can’t just leave them here to starve and die.” Everything was getting fuzzy, trying to look around to keep yourself grounded and awake; only to fail as you felt your eyes failing you and getting heavier each passing second - before everything went black. 

You had no recollection of how you ended up in what looked like a jail cell, hearing people talking right outside which made you look up to see the man with the vest sitting at a table not far from you, fiddling around with his crossbow. “W-Where am I?” Your voice was quite raspy, begging for water which made the man look at you. “You’re safe at the prison with us. Sorry you can’t come into the cells with us, we just don’t really trust you. But we’ll get you some food and water, alright?” He was speaking so softly to you, which surprised you as he didn’t seem the type to be that chill. But then again; you can’t judge a book by it’s cover. You just nodded and leaned your head back, not trying to sit up as you knew you’d just get light headed. 

“What’s yer name?” You heard him set his crossbow onto the table with a slight clunk to the metal, “Y/N. Y-Yours?” You took in a sharp breath, waiting for his voice to fill the silent air. “Daryl. You’ve got... a nice name.” His voice had a bit of a nervous tone in it, making you just lightly chuckle which hurt your empty, aching, stomach. “Sound nervous there. Shouldn’t that be me?” The man you now know as Daryl let out a small quiet snicker, watching him softly nod from the corner of your eye. 

You both looked over as you heard the loud metal bar down unlock and open, seeing a man dressed as a sheriff come walking in with a small ration of food, carefully bringing it over to you. “Thank you.” You forced yourself to sit up, taking a moment to regain your balance before taking the food and eating it slowly, enjoying the taste of food hit against your tongue for the first time in what seemed to be forever. “Oh, I missed the taste of food.” The sheriff - or what you assumed to be the sheriff - sat down next to Daryl, beginning to ask you a bunch of questions to which you answered truthfully. Telling him what happened with your last group, your name, all the little important basic stuff. While you were talking, you couldn’t help but feel Daryl’s eyes on you, watching you closely, examining you. When you looked over, you noticed how quick he was to look away before he got up and left, making you question if you did something wrong. 

Few months later, you happened to join the group, contributing in helping around the prison to make sure everything was in order and safe. Daryl and you happened to become quite close, bonding any moment you could get, with you starting to worry every time he goes out onto a run. You could tell Daryl started acting a bit different around you, looking at you differently than the first few weeks of getting to know him, seeing how he was more open to you than the others which surprised you. You remembered a conversation with Beth on how she thinks Daryl likes you, but you just laughed it off as a joke. I mean - why would he like you? You two had such a big age gap, you were probably not even his type anyways you thought. Those thoughts hurt you as you could feel yourself slowly starting to fall for him. There was just something about him that drew you to him, the way he was just so patient with you as you were to him, sharing stories you would remember of your past. Although he does refuse to say some, but you still knew some he never told anyone before. 

“Hey, Y/N. Wanna go huntin’ with me? We need some more food.” Daryl called out for you who was currently busy helping to clean the guns, making you turn towards the man and give him a look as he knew well you weren’t good with a gun - or any weapon at that except a knife. “Are you sure? You know I’m not good at a gun, or bow, or whatever.” All you got in response was a little hum and a nod towards the door, making you roll your eyes and grab your gun that you never really used and followed him out to one of the trucks. You got into the passenger seat as he was insisting on driving, buckling yourself up just in case before you heard the engine start, and the truck started moving.

When you got out of the truck together, you followed him into the woods where he started to look for any tracks or signs of wildlife he could hunt. “Why do you need me to come with you?” You whispered to him not to attract any walkers, or scare away any nearby animals. “Just cause.” He shrugged before he stopped as he noticed a deer, silently pointing towards it to show you. “You see that deer? You’re going to shoot it.” You looked at him immediately quite confused on why he would make you do it. “Why? Why can’t you? I’m going to miss it and then-” You suddenly felt his arms wrap around you and pull you close before he handed you the crossbow, which you took hesitantly. You could feel your heart racing inside your chest at how close he was, how he was pressing his body up against yours ever so gently. What you couldn’t feel - or hear - was his heart beating against his own, him taking in a deep breath before he spoke once more.

“Hold it like this, and you look down here to aim. Keep your arms steady now- just like that. Whenever you’re ready, pull the trigger.” His tone was soft, yet nervous as he showed you how to hold it. You took in a deep breath as you placed your finger onto the trigger, waiting for the right moment before you pulled it with a small. You watched the arrow fly past the deer, scaring it off which made you huff and a soft “fuck!”. “Hey, it’s okay, it happens. Need some more practice, that’s all.” He grabbed the crossbow and went off to pull the arrow out of the tree, you following up behind him. “I can’t do anything. I can’t shoot a gun, a crossbow- I’m useless to the group-” That’s when you felt his hands gently cup your face, looking up at him to see how he looked at you, looking at you like his heart had just broken.”No, no you’re not useless, Y/N. You help a lot around the camp, you… you help me.” You couldn’t believe what you heard- that you help him? But why would that be? “What?”

He let out a soft sigh as he shook his head, leaning in as his lips connected to yours. You couldn’t believe what he just did. You couldn’t register it until the moment he pulled away - seeing you stare at him in so much confusion. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but you helped me open up to someone like this. Actually make me feel alive, like a human. You make me happy. Now- I understand if you don’t want to be around me anymore, I mean I did just kiss you and I’m just-“ he was interrupted when you just grabbed him by his vest, connecting your lips once more. He was caught by surprise, his hands moving down to your waist as you two enjoyed sharing this amazing moment that you would definitely not forget. “I like you, Y/N.” “I like you too, Daryl.”

Story/Character Arc Writing Resources

How to Write a Compelling Character Arc

Character Development and Finding Nemo

On Simple Story Arcs

9 Steps to Building a Strong Plot

3 Questions to Help Solve Plot Problems ~~~ ~Grand List of Writing Resources~

1/2 next ->

I hate that they cut my comic

A little doodle and fixes I almost forgot to post here hope you like them :"^✨