#howEver if that's what it takes to make my brain run on a single track I do not Want it ('twas excruciating)

[chiropteracupola]

I feel like 'Cried So Hard It Briefly Rewrote My Personality' is not the right description for what happened last night, but it was weird to be so mentally worn out that I no longer had any desire to draw or work on any creative-writing projects and so this morning I sat down and did assignments with perfect peace and focus. is this how people Normally feel as they go through life.

[kissitbttr]

mafia!toji first time meeting stripper!reader

a/n: reader is fem. and since i’ve been hit with biggest writers block known to a man, this one is inspired by one of my old work called gold. enjoy!

-

toji zenin is a ruthless man. that, you can definitely count on.

he’s known to be the one who shows little to no mercy. who’s soul isn’t as clean due to the countless of lives he had taken.

as crazy as it sounds, toji craves for the sound of piercing cries from someone who begs to spare them compassion. he likes to taunt them. mock them. pretending that he would eventually let them go just to see that little flicker of hope lighting upon their gaze.

a sinister smile would play coyly upon his lips before he decides the latter. pulling the trigger and watches the victim face planting the dark tile as their brains scatter all over the walls and floor.

it’s one way to teach people a lesson to not fuck with him. to not fuck with his business. because toji zenin is crazy like that.

he has no time for patience nor pity.

toji fixes the collar of his black sheer shirt, checking himself out in the mirror to make sure he looks good tonight. who are we kidding though? he’s toji fucking zenin,

tonight was supposed to be his day off. he had plans. before a motherfucker who runs a strip club decides to mess with him about the package deal and had almost lost him half of the money he’s supposed to own,

he could’ve let his right hand man to handle it. but this is bigger than anything he had ever done. is this goes to south, then one person’s death wouldn’t be the only thing on his agenda,

he’ll track down every single one of the bastards and kill them with his own hands,

however, tonight needs to be as clean as possible.he’s aware of the reputation he has put on himself to the world, so no point of hiding or camouflage. yet, he still doesn’t want to cause too much of a scene,

stepping away from the full length mirror, he swiftly picks his black velvet coat off the hanger before shrugging it on,

“talk to me, satoru” his heavy voice echoes the hallway as he steps out of the room to walk downstairs, watching a few of his men pocketing their weapons,

gojo satoru. his right hand man, nods,

“he’s there. word from bianco. he appears isn’t expecting you to stop by” he informs, showing toji the message on his phone. “it’s going to be crowded. but bianco is taking care of that right now. he’s got nowhere to run”

toji scoffs, snatching a glass of whiskey off the table before downing the remaining drink. “good. i need him to see me when he less expects it. owes me more than some fucking money” he mutters, tucking the G21 down his holster.

gojo raises an eyebrow. “G21? you’re going soft tonight eh, boss?”

toji shoots him a hard glare, one where the white haired man only chuckle at. “the car’s ready?”

another nod, gojo leads toji down towards the basement. “as requested. Lamborghini Murcielago. your personal favorite. packed with 640 PS and 471 Kw—i think you know what that means— rules around 213 mph if you consider on going hit and run. i packed a standard aeropack wing if you wanna go slow. windows? bulletproof. in case anyone tries to kill you” toji knows for a fact that gojo is only joking about the last part.

no one dares to try to take him down before he does it. it’s a pattern everyone knows by now,

toji lets out a low whistle, head softly shaking at the machine beauty before him. fingers tracing along the hood of the car,

“shit—you know i need to lay low, man? got anything less attractive?”

“i don’t do less. you know that, boss” he winks playfully, laughing to himself when he watches toji rolls his eyes. “besides. this thing right here will for sure earns you a bird. take her out on a stroll, bring her home. women love fast cars” he comments,

humming as a response, toji walks towards the driver’s seat. “i don’t date. were you born yesterday or something?” he speaks in a firm tone before catching the keys that gojo throws at him,

“no I wasn’t. but isn’t ‘she who shall not be named’ is like what? two years ago? and you got to stop with the one night stands. go get a girl tonight” he suggests, watching the dark haired man sliding himself into the car,

toji gives him a half hearted smile. “noted”

“i’ll be right behind you, boss. slow down, yeah?”

-

it takes about thirty minutes prior to arrival. toji blames it all on the traffic and the slow pedestrians crossing the road. cursing to himself every five seconds, each time he stops at red lights.

he parks his car close to the entrance before exiting from the vehicle, tossing his keys at one of the valet but not before roughly grabbing his collar and threaten to kill him if one scratch is prominent on his car.

clearing his throat, he walks into the bar. ignoring the stares and whispers at the sight of a notorious ruthless man who decides to pay the club a visit.

one thing he first to notice, the club is indeed packed. gojo wasn’t lying. as if God knew what is about to happen later on and isn’t going to let him get away with witnesses. he needs to play it safe tonight.

as he strides through the darkened room to find the table he had been reserved for, a few half naked girls walk right pass him. delicate fingers stroking his chest and brushing against his shoulders, making him smirk. he can’t lie, most of them are gorgeous and he’s tempted enough to touch their skin, but he has to hold it. not that he isn’t interested, because his mind changed. he is definitely taking someone back to his place tonight.

fucking gojo. he has to be right every time.

speak of the devil, the white haired man appears by his side in minutes. nodding his head towards the area where the business should be conducted. toji follows him close towards the end of the room,

he gently pulls back a chair for him to sit, as gojo and the two of his other men stands behind to watch over. toji specifically asks for the furthest table, with a glass of whiskey has been prepared for him.

toji feels irritated. he hates doing all of this dirty work just because some fucking bastard isn’t able to keep up with the deal. he should’ve known not to trust alec to do business, yet when the pathetic excuse of a man begged on his knees with a gun knocked against his head, toji thought why not? if he didn’t get to fulfill his demands, he gets to kill him either way.

“alright, alright—fuck! easy man!” alec’s frantic voice causes toji’s eyes to avert from the scene of the crowd. his eyebrows knitted, threatening gaze bores upon the man whose pushed forcefully by his men to sit, “mr. zenin! it’s always a pleasure to see you!”

mind that alec owes him more than fifty grand, and this fucker had the nerve to walk in and act like nothing happened,

he is definitely going to kill him,

“you don’t fucking talk to me that way, alec. i’m not your friend. you owe me something” toji warns, his finger pointing at him as he watches the trembling man gulp. “you remember?”

alec couldn’t feel more terrified as he casts a glance of toji’s gun on the table, facing towards him. “i—i know, man—sir” he corrects himself. “i didn’t forget. it’s just that the money is tight right now. the girls aren’t earning amount of money they—“

toji could only scoff, head thrown back. “i didn’t fucking hire your girls. i hired you. stop being a pussy and own up to that. you should know that me and patience never get along. i have one body bag left in my car and it would give me the tremendous pleasure writing your name on it” he grits his teeth, looking at alec with a dark look in his eyes as he balls his fist,

“i just need more time—“

“one month isn’t enough?!” toji barks, making alec jumps at the booming voice

“i need more. i promise. give me one more month. and i will do whatever you ask me to, sir zenin.” alec begs with hopeful eyes,

toji finds it disgusting and repulsive to see someone like him begging for mercy. or anyone at all. that gesture is weak and vulnerable. “i don’t give out second chances”

alec hears a gun clicks from behind. he doesn’t need to ask, he knows that one of the two men behind him is ready to blow his brains out. “sir zenin, please! just one more chance! please”

once again, toji isn’t a very patient man. he knows enough to understand that it’s a mistake. but he would love to see how this one goes, playing along with this little game of his.

toji isn’t a fool. never was.

he looks over at gojo, as if to ask what he thinks. the answer that gojo could give is ‘your choice, boss’

toji sighs, head shaking. “fine. you give me your best girl of the night, and i’ll give you one more month” he offers, taking a sip of his drink, leaning himself back to relax. “no more than that”

alec nods. though he feels like shitting himself because one month isn’t close enough for collecting the amount of money he owes toji to. still, he thinks this is better than nothing.

“take your pick, mr. zenin. or i could bring one or two here? we have twins in the back and they sure are on high demand, everyone has been begging me to—“

toji could only hum in response, not listening to a word he’s saying. his green eyes scanning over at the scene. the girls are putting on a show, showing off their skills, some are pulling a lap dance on a few customers. he cringes when one suddenly takes her bra off like she costs nothing. seems like none of these girls are his type. gorgeous? yes. but they don’t seem to do enough to make his cock twitch,

he’s about to take back the offer until his eyes fall on her. eyes widening in amusement and toji finds himself freezing on the spot.

a slight curvier woman has her leg hooked around the pole. long dark haired brushing against the marble floor as she arches her back slightly. toji observes the way her body moves so sensually yet gracefully, almost like a feather. the way she bites onto her pink glossed lips and how her eyes manage to flirt with the crowd with one simple look. she has them lured into her presence. himself included.

her body—fuck, he doesn’t even know where to begin. delicious curves cladded in navy blue bodysuit, full breasts supported by the cup of her outfit that bounces each time she moves. soft thick thighs wrapped by a white fishnet stockings and legs decorated in white fuzzy pumps. overall it’s quite revealing, but it still presents the modesty she has on her. he’s not quite sure if it’s the outfit or it’s just her,

but only a fool would assume that it isn’t the latter.

toji feels his pants growing tight when his gaze lowers to how her hips moving in circles. in painfully slow motion too. almost like she knows how to tease and she’s doing it so perfectly. if only he had spotted her from before, he would’ve move closer.

a damn fucking beauty she is.

“her. i want her” toji speaks in a firmer tone, almost territorial. he just can’t take his eyes off the woman. watching every single move and a wink being thrown.

he chuckles when she swats a couple of old hands who seems desperate to try and cope a feel with a dirty look on her face. he couldn’t make out what she’s saying but he knows for sure that she’s telling them off,

‘gorgeous and a fighter’ he thinks to himself

“angel? you want her?” alec asks after he realizes who he’s pointing at,

“that’s her real name?”

“no. she doesn’t let anyone know her real name. she goes by that ever since she starts working here” alec informs, watching toji nods,

so she’s new?

“some calls her birthday cake”

that makes toji’s brows scrunched. he is about to ask why the name until the answer is immediately given to him when she decides to do a side split, making her plump ass bounce against the floor.

oh that’s why

“gorgeous” toji breathes, cocking his head to the side. “not taken is she? not that i care anyway. what a fucking dime she is. you’re going to give her to me, correct?” his voice is threatening enough, dark eyes moving to look at alec who nods.

“yes! of course, sir! if that’s what you want”

“fuck yes i do. bring her to me” he demands before gulping down his drink, watching how alec immediately scrambles off the chair and hurries towards where angel is performing,

toji keeps his eyes set on the mysterious lady. refusing to move. he doesn’t want to miss a single thing. especially when she’s on her hands and knees, ass up in the air for the crowd to see and eyes looking over her shoulder earning cheer, applause and money flown just for her.

gojo lets out a wolf whistle. “good choice, zenin”

he hums, the girl now up on her feet. lifting herself up after she hooks her arm around the pole and give them a twirl. “tell me gojo. have you seen anyone as beautiful as she is?”

“definitely not. you just might hit the jackpot”

indeed he did. toji may have made a lot of mistakes but he’s never wrong when it comes to choosing partners . he’s always careful with it.

there is something so different about her and he’s very sure about it too. from how she’s not afraid to tell the men in the audience off, putting that smart mouth to use. unlike the girls he has seen around where they just take the humiliation. but her?

she fights back. just how he likes his women.

“fuck off alec, i mean it! my shift is almost over. i’m not interested being passed around to your friends or co-workers!”

he hears her protest. toji doesn’t even realize that she’s walking closer towards his table with alec’s grip around her elbow,

“who said anything about passing you around? i just need to introduce you to one of the most important men here!” alec defends,

“weird way of saying you want me to suck their cocks” she comments

a foul mouth indeed toji thinks

alec throws her a hard glare, in which she only scoffs and roll her eyes. “mr. toji zenin, I would like to introduce you to angel. she’s been here for almost a year now.”

toji grins at that, standing up from his chair and looks over at the beauty with a disinterested look on her face. seemingly look like she doesn’t want to be here. yet she smiles at him anyway, and he swears he has never seen something so pretty,

“nice to meet you, beautiful ” toji extends his hand for her to take, giving a soft kiss on it. his eyes aren’t looking away from hers. “hell. you’re even gorgeous up close”

she won’t deny it. this man is absolutely handsome. and she doesn’t see a lot of them working here. most are old and married, which something that she finds disgusting. but this man, toji? he is far from ugly.

first thing she noticed was how broad he’s built. the way he towers over her and he’s not even standing that close to her small figure. even the dark room fails to hide the definition of his muscles through the black shirt he’s wearing. and the thin scar over his pulled lips, showcasing a smirk.

is this man even a man?

as handsome as he is, angel raises an eyebrow, not feeling entirely influenced by the gesture. “so have you been observing me this whole time? that’s creepy”

“angel” alec hisses, gripping her elbow a bit tighter making her flinch a bit and her body to cowers a little.

“sorry” she mutters in irritation, gaze falling down to the floor

the interaction somehow irks toji to the bone. he eyes how alec treats her in front him, it would probably even worse behind closed doors.

he doesn’t even want to know.

“you can fucking let go now alec, you’re hurting her” toji demands, throwing him a sharp stare. alec’s pupils are wide open at that, causing him to release his grip almost immediately and for angel to nurse her reddening skin.

one thing that toji wouldn’t accept, is violence against women.

toji’s gaze beginning to soften yet again when he watches the pretty girl before him. how her long hair cascading down her back, exposing the sharp of her collarbones and valleys of her breasts,

if only her look of fear is replaced with a look of comfort,

“you can leave us be. thanks” toji coldly orders at alec, not wanting to be near his presence anymore. he’s had enough seeing that bastard,

he nods, avoiding his stare but not before muttering a ‘don’t fuck this up’ to angel before one toji’s men escorts him out,

“don’t worry about him doll. he’s gone, yeah?” he comforts her almost immediately, not wanting her to be scared anymore,

“oh—yeah, uhm thanks” she shoots him a smile. a genuine one this time, taking his hand in hers when he offers it. "so how do you want this--''

“if you don’t mind” he puts a hand behind her back immediately to guide her to the couch behind, earning a quizzical look on her face. “i want to get to know you first”

“mr. zenin. with all due respect, this is not a date. i’m working”

he chuckles at her forward response, still she lets him lead to the velvet couch. angel sits first, eyes glancing up for a moment and see a handsome white haired man with his arms crossed. he quickly removes himself from the presence and walk out. his other men following him from behind.

and now there’s just two.

“i just want to take my time with you. is that okay?” toji sits back down, watching her crossed her legs as she keeps the distance between them,

she smiles with a shrug, toying with the strap of her bra, “you could do that while i’m giving you a dance—if you want?”

toji makes a mental note on how her eyes glow under the violet lights when she stares at him. almost like it’s so easy for him to see what goes beyond that. they’re so so pretty. prettiest he’s ever seen indeed. despite the flirty tone lacing under her response, she still has the look of innocence that makes him smile back.

she’s no better too. the way he’s looking directly into her eyes should be a crime. his gaze speaks something. something… lustful and dangerous.

he nods, letting out a breathe of relief as he leans himself back before spreading his thighs as an invitation.

“show me what you got then gorgeous”

angel swears she can hear the beat of her heart getting louder the moment she sits herself down on his lap. still, without him having to suspect anything, she keeps her flirty persona for a show.

“my, my—you really are a fucking dime” he lowly whistles, eyes falling to the curve of her breasts. “i can see why people were loving you back there. hopefully they don’t get jealous when i stole you away”

she giggles, a small blush creeping on her cheeks. “aren’t you a flirt. you do this to every girl?”

toji places his hands on her plump ass, resting it there. he knows that there are rules where it’s forbidden you touch the dancers. but he doesn’t give a shit. and it’s not like anyone had the balls to tell him off anyway.

“only to those who i find interesting, baby” he says, eyes not looking away from the beauty as be squeezes her flesh making himself groan. “fuck me. that’s an ass? right here?”

his comment makes her laugh as she throws her head back. loving how genuine he actually sounds when he said that.

“so—mr. zenin” she begins, giving him a naughty smile as her hands finds their way to his shoulders, feeling how tense they are under his grip. “what brings you to this awful depth of town, hm?”

he clears his throat, wetting down the bottom of his mouth while keeping his hands steady on her hips. finding no desire to move them. “business. your bastard of a boss owes me something. I didn’t think i would actually be here right now, accompanied by a gorgeous woman like yourself”

damn. he sure is charming and cheeky. definitely a player. “you sure are a sweet talker, mr. zenin” she tells him before slowly beginning to grind against his bulge causing him to exhale another deep groan. “are you sure—you don’t make bitches wet talking like that?”

he mutters a low ‘christ’ when he feels himself growing hard under her sultry move, yet she isn’t stopping. and she only had just started. “believe me doll, i’ve had my fair shares with many—but damn, they sure don’t make me hard like you do—cross my heart”

her hips the move in tiny circles, keeping a painfully slow pace but enough to keep him satisfied. “i don’t trust you but okay—anyway, what did you and alec talked about anyway?”

“nosy, huh?”

she rolls her eyes. “i have the right to ask since he practically sold me to you for tonight—my shift was supposed to be over, mr. zeni—“

“toji” he cuts her off, thumb softly stroking against her hip bone

“what was that?”

“just call me toji” he repeats with a small grin. “and okay that’s fair—he has something very important of mine. was supposed to pay a month ago, but that piece of shit isn’t known to be the one who keeps his promises”

she hums in response, leaning herself back slowly and rests her palms upon his knees to keep her body steady. her hips are now moving back and forth.

toji shamelessly let his eyes wander down from her breasts to her thick thighs. “i was going to blow his brains out tonight. right here. on this one spot. but he begged like a bitch and i wanted to see how far he goes” he laughs almost darkly,

it scares her a little by how calm he’s being about murdering someone. with the way his eyes staring at her aren’t really helping too. like a predator eyeing his prey. almost like he knows how to make her weak on the knees.

“looks like he’s in big big trouble, then” she giggles cutely. “not surprised anyway. he owes alot of money to the girls too. mine included”

he cocks an eyebrow, feeling himself tensing. “does he now? how long?”

“can’t count. i had to pull bunch of shitty excuses to the landlord just so he won’t kick me out of the apartment. half of our earnings each night, goes to him. saying that he’ll pay me back but I know he never will” she spills casually, then her movement comes into a halt. “oh fuck, don’t tell him i said that”

with a chuckle, his head shakes. “i won’t. but i could kill him for you, if you want me to. just say the word” he speaks lowly, continuing to admire her body. “mind if i ask how long have you been working here?”

it takes her a while to answer. “almost a year. I quit college for this. not because i love it entirely, but i couldn’t pay for it anymore.” she sighs,

“i’m sorry to hear that. what were you studying?”

“bio-engineering” she smiles, “people tend to be surprised when i told them that”

“count me in as well, sweetheart, damn. not only she’s hot as fuck but she’s smart too?” he shakes his head in disbelief. “you even real, right now?”

she laughs, flipping her hair. “thank you, toji—can i ask you something?”

he hums, callouses hands move towards her back, holding her steady,

“what happened there” she points at the scar, struggling to find the urge not to trace her fingers across it,

he shrugs, “was from a fight years ago. nothing major”

“can i—touch it?” she softly asks him, looking so innocent yet teasingly,

toji smirks, head nodding. “go ahead, baby” he speaks in a low baritone. voice so deep and flirty that it almost makes her squirm,

she ignores the butterflies in her stomach when he calls her that. and without being told twice, she leans closer and her fingers reach out to pad the scar gently. feeling how soft his lips against her skin, paying attention to every single detail of it. wondering how on earth could a scar fit someone so perfectly.

there is no doubt on her mind, that he is the sexiest man she has ever come across to. she can feel the weight of his palm lowering itself down to her plump cheek, squeezing it. usually, she would tell anyone off for touching her like that. but this time, she doesn’t say anything. not because she’s afraid of him but she feels strangely turned on.

“fuck” he breathes out, feeling her ass one more time. hearing him like that just makes her giggle as she gradually picks up the pace grinding on him, catching toji off guard.

“such a naughty little girl—bet you wouldn’t mind having that ass spanked now would you?” he whispers against her ear, biting his lower lip hard.

though she would admit that she wouldn’t, she won’t allow him to win this game. she slowly shakes her head with a smirk, removing herself off his lap causing him to whine. angel spins around, not without swaying her ass side to side, sneaking a glance to make sure he’s watching,

her hand immediately circles around the pole in front of them. “dinner is mandatory if you want to go down to that path, mr. zenin”

toji watches carefully with lust and admiration as she now securing her arm around the golden pole, lifting herself off easily and give her body a gentle spin. eyes screwed shut and head thrown back. coming back down slowly, she re-enacts the movement from where she performed for the audience. legs spread apart, landing in a perfect split. long brown hair covering the side of her beautiful features, tongue licking her upper lip.

he follows the curve of her ass, eager to get his hands on them but he knows that he has to wait. there, he spots a small heart tattoo inked on her ass cheek,

angel is a little teaser. that’s for sure. enjoying herself too much in making a man hard yet refuses to be under the spell of a man’s touch. he likes that actually. likes that a lot. it may be painful to have his cock hard at the moment while she’s not doing anything about it but she’s worth it.

so, so worth it.

“you are so. fucking. sexy.” his voice switches into something darker, a seductive grin slowly forming as he thirsts over her. “must have made a lot of men mad out there”

“so i have been told” she declares with confidence, innocent smile pulling upon her lips as she begins to gently crawl towards him, eyes never leaving his.

she halts in between his open legs, settling on her knees. being the little minx she is, her hands find a place on top of his thighs. “i sense you carry danger everywhere you go, mr. zenin—am i wrong?”

she’s not dumb. she spotted his gun strapped against his holster an hour before she was even being introduced to the man.

he delicately caresses her soft cheek, almost came in his pants when she leans against his palm. “why? that scares you?” he moves a few strands of hair that are blocking his view of her pretty face,

she shakes her head, a smile doesn’t leave her face. in fact, he hears a soft giggle escapes her.

his eyes move from the curve of her breasts and up to her mouth. eyeing the way that pink gloss compliments her pretty skin.

“would love to have a taste—right here” toji whispers, his thumb grace her lower lip. his breath immediately hitches, and a groan rumbles deep in his chest the moment she opens her mouth.

“fuck—what a good girl” he moans lowly when she lets his thumb rest upon her warm wet tongue. the angelic look in her eyes disappears and is replaced with a look of lust. “s-shit” it takes him by surprise when she decides to suckle it, head bobbing her head up and down painfully slow,

“jesus—i wish it was my cock you’re sucking right now, baby” nonetheless, the amount of pleasure she’s giving him is enough to keep him satisfied,

“holy fuck, wow” she pops her lips off his thumb. wiping the saliva from the corner of her mouth before giggling again. the sound makes toji smile. genuinely.

“you’re trouble” he comments with a tsk, chuckling at the way she shrugs innocently as if she has no idea what he’s talking about. “alright. up you get, baby”

she gives him a questionable look, following his movement and rise to her feet. “mr. zenin, we still have thirty minutes left. alec gave me at least an hour and he would be upset if i—“

“if he touches you, you tell me and i’ll kill him. understand?” toji sternly orders, brows furrowing at the thought of that lowlife bastard putting his hands on her,

she’s baffles at that. how could he know what goes behind closed doors? still she nods anyway. “yes, sir”

“toji, baby. toji” he corrects with a smile. “besides, if i stayed for another ten minutes, i’ll l cream in my pants and that would be embarrassing” he shamelessly points out. she blushes at that and it makes toji’s heart skips a bit,

“this doesn’t mean it’s a one and done. i would love to see you again, sweetheart. can’t let you go too far now can i?” he pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and hands her thick amount of hundreds. “here you go, angel”

she gasps softly as her eyes go big, shocked by the bundle of cash in his hand. if she counts it right that’s gotta be at least close to one grand.

“toji this is—fuck this is too much, I—i can’t take these. twenty or fifteen is enough for me”

he frowns. who in the right mind think it’s okay for men to tip a gorgeous woman with a rocking body some loose change? fucking assholes.

“baby, you do realize who you’re talking to? i don’t give out twenty or less” he quirks an eyebrow, watching her adorable expression. “money isn’t a problem to me. a grand isn’t a problem to me. come on, you deserve it”

she stares down at his hand and hesitantly takes the money. flashing him a wide smile. “mr—i mean, toji, oh my god thank you so much. thank you, thank you!” without any second thoughts, she jumps out and wrap her arms around his neck,

“you don’t know how much this means to me. i needed this”

toji stumbles a bit, the sudden movement surprises him but he appreciates it. the way she keeps thanking him, muttering couple of blessings has somehow gives his heart a little kick,

a good one.

“no need to thank me, baby” toji grins, holding her by the waist to keep her secured for a moment before pulling away. “you take care of yourself yeah? don’t be wandering too far. would love to take you out on a stroll” he leans down to peck her cheek,

“I’ll be sure to stop by and see you again, gorgeous” with one last devilish smile, he walks out of the room. leaving her still in complete shock,

he is no ordinary man, alright. it kinda makes her feel a bit weird by all the butterflies that are erupting her stomach by how he acted earlier. has it been.. what? two or three years since she had been engaged in any sort of relationships with a man. and there has been no real man crawling around this city. only rats. she fucking hates rats.

but toji zenin? there’s definitely something about him that makes his whole aura and appearance a lot more sexier. again, she’s not stupid. she has seen the gun. observed his interaction with her boss. and the men he had protecting him suits?

that’s no 9-5 man. it’s dirty work.

and it should’ve scared her. it should’ve been a warning made for her to run and avoid him because he’s a man that carries danger everywhere he goes. toji zenin is a man that would not hesitate to paint the whole town in blood of his victims if one ever crosses his territory.

yet as she glances down at the bills being handed at her and promise from him that he would see her again, it makes her smile. heart thumping at the thought of the beautiful man coming back only for her.

angel clutches the money against her chest, squealing as she does little bounces in her heels with a giggle. overjoyed with the amount of cash that would help her,

she’s definitely making toji her new favorite client

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

HELLO I moved last week and I have no WiFi or service in my flat (posting from a coffee shop) so I apologise for the lack of posting.

However, this was meant to be for today's wolfstarmicrofic prompt Basilisk, but it's officially much too long because I've missed writing to post lmao, so it's not a microfic.

(Ravenclaw Remus AU.)

"Lupin, you're patrolling with..." Moody flicks quickly through his notes, "Black."

"Oh, er... Alright," he says with a shrug, trying to pass himself off as calm.

Internally? Every single alarm is going off in his head.

Remus never exactly... spoke to Sirius Black, or his friends. Ravenclaws and Gryffindors aren't really destined to interact, and Remus would have chosen death over joining the Quidditch team. That didn't stop him from being one of far too many people in the school that had a major minor crush on Sirius.

Sure, he knew that Sirius had grown up rich and pampered. He always held himself in this way that made him seem ten times more important than everyone else. That wasn't exactly helped by the fact that he was a Gryffindor. Lily, Mary and Marlene were the only Gryffindors Remus has ever really tolerated. The rest are all pretentious as fuck. Everyone knows that.

Still, for some reason, his brain would short circuit whenever he was so much in the same room as Sirius. He still lays awake at night, humiliated about the time he accidentally caught Sirius' eyes and tripped over the bench in the Great Hall.

Joining the Order wasn't even a question for him. Anything to help them win the war. He hadn't exactly expected Sirius to do the same, but it just makes him feel like he's back in school. Frustratingly enough for him, Sirius has only gotten more attractive in the year since they've left school. It hasn't really mattered until now, though. He's been pretty successful in avoiding him. It's probably helped by the fact that he isn't even on Sirius' radar, but this? He's going to set the strangest first impression on the planet.

There's nothing he can do about it, though.

That's how Remus finds himself waiting outside the Order house, fidgeting with an unlit cigarette.

"Hey, Remus!"

There he is.

Remus looks up, shoving the cigarette back into the carton. Sirius has stopped in front of him, running a hand through his hair and grinning at Remus.

Leather jackets look weird on literally everyone other than him.

Remus has to jostle his brain into functioning. He blinks once, before finally mustering a polite smile.

"Hi. Should we get going?"

"Yeah. Yeah, let's go."

They walk in silence for a while, moving from spot to spot and taking the odd note.

Until Sirius decides he's done with all of that.

"Y'know, I was hoping you'd join the Order."

"Sorry?" Remus practically stops in his tracks, turning to Sirius with wide eyes. Shock ripples through him.

Hoping?

"I mean, I had a feeling you would. I'm just... glad you did, I guess."

"I didn't even know you knew I existed," Remus confesses quickly.

Sirius actually does stop moving, grabbing Remus' forearm and stopping him too.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, really. You existed on this... separate plane. I mean, you were you. Everyone knew about you. Why would I be on your radar?"

"Remus," Sirius says slowly, eyes boring into Remus'. It sends a shiver down Remus' spine. "All I did was think about you."

"What?" Remus sputters, a strange mixture of confusion and shock overwhelming him.

"Oh, I had such a crush on you." He shrugs like it's nothing; like what he just said hasn't turned Remus' entire world on its axis. "I thought that was obvious, I mean... you're bloody brilliant. Ravenclaw prefect, running a study group-"

"I can't believe you've even given me a second thought," Remus says, a little breathless.

"Merlin, I did. I remember telling James that I'd fight a Basilisk for you." Sirius chuckles to himself, but Remus is losing control over his own responses scarily quickly. "I know you couldn't stand me, but-"

"Who said that?"

"Nobody had to." Sirius watches Remus, a little puzzled. "You're not the biggest fan of Gryffindors, right?"

Well, he's not wrong.

"Besides, you couldn't stay in the same room as me. You literally fell over yourself trying to get away from me before."

"Oh, God," Remus mutters under his breath, his face heating up uncomfortably. His one comfort has been that Sirius didn't notice him embarrassing himself every time he walked into the room.

"Sorry," Sirius says suddenly, releasing Remus' hand. "I didn't mean to- Christ, I've made things even more awkward, haven't I?"

Huh.

He's not as confident as Remus thought.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean- let's just forget I said that. Finish patrolling."

No.

Remus doesn't want to forget. He needs to do something, before Sirius never speaks to him again.

Hurriedly, he grabs Sirius' hand, pulling him into an alley nearby.

Well, he's committed to it now. No turning back.

"Remus, what-"

He pulls Sirius in by his stupidly perfect jacket and connects their lips before he has a chance to second guess himself.

Thankfully, Sirius wastes no time in falling into the kiss. His lips are soft against Remus', parting just enough for their tongues to meet.

The kiss is everything he could have imagined and more. Sirius is somehow both tentative and eager and he tastes like cinnamon and fuck, Remus may as well have died and gone to heaven. His hand involuntarily slides into Sirius' hair, and he's rewarded with a muffled gasp.

Okay, maybe Gryffindors aren't that bad.

[spicyclover]

In a haze

Summary : In the car, there are millions of thoughts that pass one after the other. The brain accumulates and releases at hundredths of a second all the information we need to be good drivers. However, sometimes it happens that the information never comes back and we are lost in this infinite mist.

Request

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

WARNING : mention of crash | lose of consciousness

The humidity is at its peak. Singapore is really one of the most physical races. The overwhelming and stifling heat prevents the brain from accumulating air properly. I already regret leaving the refrigerated hospitality to join the garage. I meet some fans on my way and I stop to take some pictures.

I am quickly escorted out of the crowd. I run to join the others to start the parade. I regroup with the two Ferraris and Max who discuss qualifications. I am P8. I could have had more, but a moment of distraction made me lose seconds in a corner. I smile at Charles and shake Carlos’s hand. I'm sweating in my team gear, it's really the worst. The Ferraris boys are not better, Charles is red as a tomato and Carlos look like he's going faint any second.

In the distance, I see Daniel. He is in a corner, his headphones on his ears. He has his face of concentration. He's cute, makes him look more serious. Since the beginning of the year, he hasn’t smiled as much. He’s not the same as before. He gradually realizes that his days are numbered in this sport and it scares him. I understand that feeling. I am the only woman on the grid and at my first mistake, I have a horde of men wanting to replace me with their macho and sexist criticism. Daniel raises his head and crosses my eyes. A smile expands on my lips and he seems to relax.

With the parade over, I return to the garage for the final preparations. I visualize the race in my head. I review the turns, the areas of acceleration, the areas of deceleration. I calculate the pressure of my tires and I look at the temperature one last time during the race. Filling my brain with all this information helps me not to be overwhelmed by pressure. I relativize and focus on the fact by what can happen.

It’s already time to get in the car. As always, the pressure goes up and I feel like my head is going to explode. I get in the car. I put my helmet on. When the helmet goes on my head, I no longer calculate what’s around me. Everything around me gets foggy and only my car counts. I hear my engineer in my ear and listen to the instructions.

The journalists and the teams leave the track. The crowd is on fire. I allow myself to look around. Oscar is on my right at P7. Lando is P6 ahead of me. Behind me is Daniel P10. The light turns red and the formation round begins. Max starts the pace. I warm up my tires and check my brakes one last time. I barely have time to think that the finish line is in front of me again. I install the single-seater in my starting lines and I prepare myself.

One. My pulse begin to quicken. Two. I'll move faster and faster, the fan roaring beside me. Three. My thoughts begin to wash away in a cloud of wind and dust. Four. The crowd thunders. Five.

My hands release the brake and I press the accelerator. The first corner comes quickly. I find my line among all the cars and I concentrate. The first few cars slow down and I’m right behind. I start turning the wheel. The next few seconds freeze in time. My brain tries to interpret what is happening before my eyes, but I can’t. I feel the back of my car rising in the air. In a straight perpendicular line, all I see is black and white asphalt. I let go of the steering wheel and the barrels start. My body is wandered from left to right in the car and I try to maintain myself. All this happens in seconds before I crash into the security fence.

I hear his laugh. I look up and he is in front of me, his smile bigger than the sun. I chuckle before I tongue him. I get up and start running to the ocean. He rushes after me. I peek behind me and he’s already behind.

"It’s not fair," I said, with a sulky pout. "You’re faster than me." He grabs my face in his gigantic hands and kisses me. I try to resist, but these kisses are magical that I can’t keep acting. I surrender to these lips.

"I am a high performance athlete, athletes speed." I laugh and I push him away a little. He loses balance and leads me to his fall. The fine sand is quickly encountered and my eyes get lost in his. I remove some rebellious streaks from his face. He meddles his fingers between my hair and he passes them behind my ears. "You’re beautiful." I pouffe before I kiss his lips again to silence him.

I’m back in the car. I fainted. Oh no, I lost consciousness. My vision is blurry and my ears are ringing. I try to straighten my head to look around, but I can’t. I feel like my heart is in my brain. It’s pounding and I can barely breathe. I feel a hand on my shoulder, but I can’t react. Gradually my vision darkened again.

"I don’t want us to hide anymore," whispers Daniel.

The night is cool and we’re in our hotel room in Los Angeles. This is the first time that we meet after weeks of meeting at the bend of an evening or a race. We have been living in this secret relationship for a few months now and I must admit that it is happiness. I like to find it even for a few moments, but it is true that with each separation, they become harder. I smile as I relax my head.

"We have no choice." I say, slowly fading away in my sleep.

And it’s true, we are stuck in this spiral of PR. Being the only woman on the track, I have to be attractive to the male fans. A girl in a relationship is not interesting. I hate every day since this phrase came out of my manager’s mouth. What do I give a shit about male fans? I’m not there for them, or thanks to them. I long to make a big finger in all this, but the more I think about the consequence and the more it scares me.

I am transported out of my car, I distinguish the lights of paramedics who check the dilation of my pupils. I blink and red and white flashes pass in front of my eyes. The ambulance. My helmet was removed. I don’t remember much. They talk to me, but I can’t tell the words. Everything is confusing. Yet, this hand I know. It’s his. Daniel. My eyes are frantically searching around me and I finally see him. He too has crashed. I don’t have time to think more than the paramedic pulls it out of my hand and takes me in the ambulance to the nearest hospital.

The hours that follow are a perpetual blur. I get lost in the dozens of exams and questions I am asked. I answer as best I can, but I get tired and I ask him to be beside me. I whisper his name between my lips. Many hours have passed. My senses come back little by little and I hear again the noises that surround me. I hear the beep of the machines, I hear the nurses who pass by the door of my room. I hear the television on, but I can’t understand the words. Most importantly, I hear his voice. He’s there with me. I painfully open my eyes. In the first place, everything is blurred. I can only see the light, but very quickly my vision clears and I can look at his face.

"I am so sorry, my love. I am terribly sorry." He whispers repeatedly, my hand in his.

"Hey, stranger." I say in a hoarse voice. I feel like I’ve been smoking for forty years with that voice.

"Y/n!" He cries while looking up. "You are awake."

"You didn’t think you’d get rid of me like that." I said with a laugh. I try to move to get up, but my body hurts. I moan and Daniel looks at me worried. "What happened?"

"We crashed into each other… I ran into you by accident. The car behind me didn’t brake and I was right in your corner. You rolled, I thought I’d lose you." He chokes a sob before he takes over." You landed in the safety gate and the race was paused for a long time. I… I couldn’t… I couldn’t go on without knowing if you were okay." He caresses my hair tenderly. I feel the pain in his voice and it hurts me.

"You disqualified yourself for me?"

"For you? Always." I smile and reach for him. I grab the top of his neck and our lips meet. Our kiss lasts a few minutes. We enjoy the present moment and the presence of the other. "Just to let you know, but I may have told everyone about our relationship and the media is crazy about it."

"What?" I write to myself as I step aside. What did he do? He didn’t… Oh no!

"We’ll talk later." He kisses me again with a smile. "You need to rest and heal."

"Dan…" I try to argue, but he won’t let me continue.

[vigilxnte-shit]

you can hear it in the silence || matt murdock x reader

summary: it’s been a rough couple of days, but there is always a safe respite with him. you don’t need to see him or hear him talk to feel his love- it’s so strong it’s undeniable, and it’s present in every action he takes.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: if you are a mutual from the w*lb*r s*ot days or just a former [redacted] enjoyer, this may seem familiar as it was originally written for him. however, i was really proud of this little story, so i wanted to revisit it and edit it a bit as my first matt x reader to hopefully make even more friends within this lovely little community! additional warnings: mentions of ED’s, anxiety, stress, domestic cute fluffiness.

a/n: i am such a sucker for husband!matt and i am not sorry about it. dedicated to the tuna team- i love u guys long time <3

you’re tired. that’s nothing new, especially not as of late, but something about the perpetuity and the fact no amount of rest seems to take it away makes it that much more deep. forget your bones, this is the kind of tired you can feel in your lungs, the kind that squeezes out all the oxygen and mocks you for trying to gain it back.

nothing is going your way. the darkest thoughts you thought you’d chased out of your mind were actually just hiding in the shadows, not even collecting cobwebs, lying in wait for the day your brain is just weak enough you’ll give in. 

you did end up eating dinner. you almost didn’t, were too close to teetering off that edge again, the little voice in your head telling you you can’t afford the calories. you’ve sat down too much, it says, you won’t burn those off, but in the end that didn’t matter. in the end, you sat there, staring at your takeout food and sitting in your desk chair, your mind running a million miles a minute before you picture your husband. his beautiful, endless hazel eyes and the way they would slump in heartbreak if he found out you were doing this to yourself again.

so you ate your dinner. you ate it fast and you quickly shoved it away, the container near-empty and forgotten in the bin by the time you left work. even that didn’t stop the tiredness, though, didn’t prevent the slumping of your shoulders and the way each step felt like a mile.

you’re getting home late from work again, as if having dinner at your desk wasn’t an indication. it’s almost 9:30 pm and you have two and a half hours until the devil comes out to play, so matt is probably asleep- dozing off for the precious hours sandwiched between the system’s justice and his own. one immediate detail of the apartment tips you off. it’s not the lights- the constant buzzing of the electricity is too much for his sensitive ears- instead, it’s the lock. he’s left your cheap and semi-rundown apartment unlocked, as per usual.  you always insist he always locks it, what with his track record of ninja break-ins and unexpected visits from old mentors, but he never listens. to him, it’s a little way of saying “i missed you”- i missed you too much to intentionally put an obstacle in between you and i.

inside, the lights are, as expected, off, save for the bathroom light in the hallway. to light your way. despite his hearing, despite the fact he can hear the neighbors breathing and smell a cigarette lit down the street, he always leaves the bathroom light on when you get home. it’s his wordless way of saying you need to head straight to bed, straight to safe, straight to him. he’s shut down the apartment and left a single light to guide you, one that you can turn off as you breeze by or leave it on, if that’s what you prefer- sometimes the dark is scary, and he’ll do anything to make you feel safer.

in the bathroom, he’s laid out your favorite sweats and his columbia t-shirt. your skincare routine is set out in order on the sink and there’s a glass of ice water in the best-insulated glass he could find- you can tell the drink started life as simple a cup full of ice cubes by the way the remaining particles are stuck together. he wanted you hydrated, and he wanted your water to be cold- he knew you wouldn’t drink it otherwise.

when you’re all prepped, your teeth brushed and your skin cosily coddled by the soft, well-loved cotton of the t-shirt and your moisturiser patted in, you switch off the light and make the very short walk to your bedroom.

matt has left your blinds open. you normally close them at night, the glass and plastic giving a slight cushion to every noise on the street, but he can’t have you tripping on your walk to him because you can’t see, can he? in fact, thanks to the little light you have, you can see his figure silhouetted in the covers. he’s a side sleeper, facing towards you, perfect cheekbones and beautiful features only enhanced by the moonlight.

you waste no time in snuggling up to him. you climb onto the other side of the bed first, not wanting to wake him, but once you’re adjusting the duvet around yourself he shuffles to the tiniest bit of consciousness. 

“hi,” you whisper. he’s not even awake enough to give you a verbal answer, his arms simply sliding around your body as he tugs you close to him. you might as well be a stuffed animal, the way he’s clutching you- you don’t mind in the slightest as he lets out a sleepy groan as the only response to your greeting. your head is tucked up against his chest, his nose in your hair as his breathing returns to a slow, relaxed pace. these are your favorite nights, the ones where you get matt to yourself for a bit. the nights you have moments in his arms, calming his senses, your scent and your feel and the sound of your heartbeat easing his aching soul for just a moment before he slips out the window to save the world again.

you close your eyes and just listen to him breathing, to the sound of rest and the man you share your life with. he is everything comforting. he is warm, he is kind, he handles your heart as though it’s the greatest gift anyone has ever given him. 

you didn’t need him to say i love you when you crawled into bed. you didn’t need a text reading that when you were scaring yourself over dinner, you didn’t need a note on a pink post-it next to your toothbrush. you know already.

you are matt murdock’s everything. he would lose his mind for you, fight any war you ask. there’s a picture of you in his office- he can’t even see it, but the edges of the frame have the paint rubbed off, eroded from hours spent tracing the frame, knowing it contains your image.. you are his best friend, his lover, his lifetime companion.

you can hear his love in the silence of your bedroom. you felt it on your solo drive home. you can see it right now, your eyes closed and your lights turned off.

you two are in love. desperately, deeply, unendingly. that may not fix your problems- it may not take your sadness away or shorten the commute home, but in this moment- this little cocoon of blankets and touches and adoration- there is nothing and no one that could touch you.

never in a million years.

[shippingmyworld]

Youtuber!Timmy and Youtuber!Jimmy AU

Follow up to my Youtuber!Danny Phantom AU from this post cus I can't stop thinking about this AU.

Timmy runs a channel named Fairly Odd Creatures where he makes full-blown mockumentaries about all kinds of mythical creatures/cryptids. Once every 2-3 months he will post a video that's about 60 minutes long and the production value that goes into them is absolutely mind-blowing. People are constantly flooding his inbox, demanding to know what his secret is. There are all-out wars in the comment section of his videos (or whatever social media platform his videos are being discussed on) debating on how in the world the footage is pulled off. Nobody can agree on if it's super-advanced cgi or the best blend of makeup and props the internet has ever seen.

Timmy's secret of course is just the fact that Cosmo and Wanda will simply poof into existence whatever creature Timmy needs for his video. Then he just has to follow it around for a few hours with his camcorder and then edit the footage together.

The funniest part of his videos (and probably the reason that they're so popular) is that nothing in them is even remotely in line with what has already been popularized. For example: "Chupacabra's? Yeah, it turns out they don't drink the blood of livestock. They eat metal. Specifically, automobile metal. Don't believe me? Well I lost this Chupacabra in downtown Dimmsdale for a few hours and it ate half of this totally random car before I found it again. Here's a clip of it taking a chomp out of the tire like it's a donut." (The car belonged to Mr. Crocker and it wasn't an accident).

Each and every video Timmy uploads is guaranteed to hit number one on trending for a few hours, and then hover in the top 20 for a few days. This gives Timmy a bit of an ego, especially since whenever he posts a new one everyone at school is talking about it the next day. He tells himself that he can't reveal his identity because then he's have to explain how he's pulling everything off (his voice is disguised with a magical voice modulator that makes him sound like a dramatic narrator) and thus risk exposing Cosmo and Wanda. However, the second that Trixie off-handedly mentions she watches them he spills the beans. Thankfully for his fairies, nobody believes him.

Jimmy's channel is called Brain Blast in which he posts about his projects and the science behind them. While he does have a small and dedicated subscriber base, most of the comments on his videos are from months or years after he's uploaded them in the first place of people thanking him for posting such great study aids.

Part of the reason why he has a smaller subscriber base is because he doesn't edit his content. They're all done with a single take, which only is extremely impressive to anyone that notices. He writes the script, preps his slideshow and props, and then hits record. Even though he does plenty of "Fun Science" videos ("Alternative Travel Methods feat. Bubble Travel", "How to Launch Your Toaster into Orbit", "Make Your Own Rust in a Can", etc.) the low production and sound quality for everything gives off the same energy as those channels run by a middle-aged man recording stuff about their niche interest on their phones.

Sheen and Carl appear in most of his videos as his assistants (or lab rats depending on the context). They're pretty great helpers, despite the fact that Sheen always goes off script and Carl gets so camera shy that he forgets his lines. Jimmy has to cut in a lot with "That's an excellent question!" to get them back on track. Libby and even Cindy will make occasional appearances. In fact, most of his popular uploads come from videos that his friends requested: "How Real is the Science in Ultralord?", "Surprising Biology of Lamas!", and "The Science Behind Enjoying Music." are counted among his most popular uploads.

Cindy once tried to get her own channel up and running and was pretty popular for a while, but after a few months she decided that even part-time content creator wasn't something she wanted to invest her time into. Instead, she'll just muscle her way into Jimmy's videos on occasion. More than once she has basically hijacked Jimmy's script halfway through to talk about famous women related to whatever topic Jimmy is covering.

Jimmy can't really bring himself to interrupt Cindy's hijacking's, because whiles she's right about the contributions these famous women have made, they're not super relevant to the hyper-specific topic/experiment he's currently covering (he will just shoot a second video when he's alone and upload it to make sure all his points got covered). Eventually though, he'll get so annoyed with Cindy barging into his lab whenever she finds out he's planning to film (Sheen spills the beans to Libby all the time and she reports to Cindy) that Jimmy will begin to start most of his videos will a few quick facts that he thinks Cindy will like so she'll leave him alone.

When the Youtube algorithm starts recommending Jimmy some of Timmy's mockumentary's, Jimmy will start posting follow-up videos to Timmy's in order to debunk Fairly Odd Creatures. This in turn starts to push Brain Blast up in popularity due to association. Then a portion of Timmy's fanbase gets latched onto Jimmy. They start taking stills from Jimmy's videos to use as reaction images (because Jimmy gets very upset and frustrated with just how wrong everything in Timmy's videos are).

As to not expose himself on his channel, Timmy creates a second channel in which he uploads videos in exactly the same style as Jimmy's. He discredits this "Science" thing that Jimmy is apparently basing all his arguments on and jokes about how Jimmy sounds like a witch. The second channel isn't very popular until Jimmy posts a "In Response to..." video addressing Timmy's second channel directly. This inadvertently brings Timmy's second channel a flash rise in popularity and sparks a whole chain of video uploads between the two of them. There's a solid month of them uploading daily and basically yelling at each other about why people should unsubscribe from the other person.

Timmy throws himself heavily into the second channel (so much so that he almost forget to film content for Fairly Odd Creatures once), adopting a conspiracy theory persona that believes the earth is flat and that the moon is just a government projection. He invites his totally real alien friend Mark Chang onto the channel all the time to talk about Yugopotamia and help discredit Jimmy ("Like yeah man, I totally saw your radical disc-looking planet and had to fly down and check it out.").

And because people are normal on the internet, there's a whole sub-genre of fans that have started to ship Jimmy and Timmy's YouTube channels. 'Enemies-to-lovers' is the most popular trope for them, and there's even a whole subreddit dedicated to the ship that gets fanart and fanfics posted to it on a regular basis. Timmy is very aware of this group of fans and will occasionally sneak in an off-handed remark about Jimmy just to fuel them because he thinks it will piss off Jimmy even more. In fact, there's a whole slew of small channels that clip and compile 'JimTim Evidence' to fuel their theory that Jimmy and Timmy are secretly dating.

Little does Timmy know, there's actually a clip out there of him saying, "Jimmy may not be able to use his oversized head to deduce simple facts, but that least he can pick out glasses that make his eyes look pretty." Jimmy has watched that clip at least a thousand times on loop because he's low-key attracted to Timmy but refuses to admit it. It's part of the reason as to why he gets so worked up about Timmy's responses to him, because how can someone he's attracted to be just so wrong about everything???

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Meryl, Luida, and Bridging the Gap

This is just a quick little side-note I wanted to make about the similarities between Meryl and Luida that I noticed as I was reading, and how they end up occupying similar, yet complementing roles in the story.

***Disclaimer: I was sick when I wrote this and my head is full of fog lmao. If I have completely left out a word or something... don't even worry about it it's fine.

First off, on a surface level, they both are characterized as capable, intelligent, level-headed women, who are suddenly thrust into leadership positions, with Meryl being assigned the task of tracking down and mitigating the damage caused by Vash the Stampede plus looking out for her new protégé, Milly, and Luida stepping up to take charge of Ship 3 and its residents after Doc's death.

While the demand placed on them both is immense, nonetheless, they are shown to be quite capable of shouldering this kind of responsibility - however, given their intense focus and objective-driven personalities, they actually both get scenes where they are somewhat horrified by their own temporary prioritization of objectives over morality. We see this with Meryl in Trigun Volume 1 when she doesn't react in righteous anger to Badwick threatening his parents and had shut herself off from writing to her own in pursuit of her job, and with Luida when she briefly considers the idea of another July incident to stop Knives. Both think negatively of themselves for this - of course, I'm of the mind that since they are upset with themselves on reflection, this proves the exact opposite, really. I think they both have hearts of gold, they're just under a lot of stress, especially as time goes on. The two of them are human beings who falter, but whose morals ultimately align closely with what Vash wants to see in the world. Really, what the two of them hate most here is the idea of their own inaction or taking the easy way in the face of wrongdoing - a concept that drives them into action going forward.

[ID: Two images from Trigun and Trigun Maximum. The first is from Trigun Volume 1. Over images of trees and Badwick's father, Meryl says "But I... I just stood there and took it all in without even budging. I am such a cold person. I chose this path of blood and tears without thinking about the rest of my life. All I can see is what's right in front of me." Meryl starts to cry as she continues, "Why could I not see... that when I closed myself off to him, something was wrong? I..." She then slaps her cheeks and says "No... never mind!" The second image is from Trigun Maximum Volume 8. A single tear runs down Luida's cheek. Meryl says "Miss Luida...?" Her back turned to Meryl, Luida says "I'm sorry. I... was thinking for a moment. If something like July would happen again... it could stop Knives, but... ... I'm a terrible woman. End ID.]

Both of them also have a connection to Vash's past that gives them a different perspective on him as a person, instead of just an ally - Meryl, of course, gets brain-blasted in Volume 5 with Vash's memories (poor thing), but Luida is also more familiar with him than even a lot of the people on Ship 3, it seems - enough that she calls him out for blaming himself after the attack, clearly used to hearing this from him. She also is the one to clear up at least some of Wolfwood's confusion and uncertainty.

We also get this interesting parallel of them both watching Vash walk away to face Knives, him having rejected their offers of help. It's something that clearly saddens them both, as they watch him fight alone again and again, and wish he wouldn't. Both of them have moments where they feel they can't offer much in the way of assistance, or that their best efforts aren't enough.

[ID: Two images from Trigun and Trigun Maximum. The first is from Trigun Volume 2. Vash, his back turned, runs off into the chaos, a Plant seen above him and the city ahead, as he yells back "Get as far away from here as you can! Get to safety!" Meryl watches him from the door. In the second image, from Trigun Maximum Volume 8, a grainy flashback shows Vash's turned back as he walks away from a young Luida, who is reaching out to him. End ID.]

Of course, we the readers know this isn't true at all! Meryl and Luida do so much over the course of the story.

Interestingly, they don't start off as the ones completely in charge - Meryl works for Bernadelli even if she is in charge of her assignment, and Luida is presumably part of the Council, but the one in charge is initially Doc. But once they do take over - Luida after Doc's death, and Meryl once the world is thrown into ruins and Bernadelli no longer exists - there is a striking difference in the way they act from their predecessors.

Meryl goes from simply following Vash around to taking a self-directed and active role in assisting him however she can - looking for his old belongings and anything else of potential use, asking Marlon to repair his gun, creating a distraction with Milly, and helping the Earth Federation in the final hour with no hesitation.

Luida takes a much more active role in rallying Ship 3 to assist Vash as well. While some of this may simply have been because the stakes were raised much higher after Volume 3, Ship 3, while already a base of support for Vash, was a distant safe haven, kept largely separate from the rest of the world. Up until that point, they had provided Vash with aid, but not fought alongside him, something that clearly bothers Luida on multiple occasions. She decides to change this. She's the one who sets out to help as many of the towns ravaged by the Ark as possible. She rallies the Ship 3 residents for a rescue mission to help Vash. She's the one to step forward and attempt to bring all the leaders around to standing with Vash.

Which brings me to my last comparison point. They're both staunchly supportive of Vash, quick to come to his aid, and quick to defend his character from those who doubt his intent - Luida even sharply calls out her own people for their moment of mistrust after hearing about July. These two know and care about Vash on a more personal level than most - and as we all know, due to his avoidant tendencies, this is not an easy thing to do. Vash is frequently misinterpreted, and these two are often the ones to set the record straight.

[ID: A panel from Trigun Maximum Volume 3. Luida, sternly, says "That's a foolish question. You would know the answer just by looking at the scars on his body. If he had used his true immortality, those scars would not be there. End ID.]

In this way, much like Vash is a bridge between humans and Plants, Meryl and Luida are something of a bridge between humans and Vash.

And they're able to do this because deep down, their ideals align closely with his - they're not just supporting someone they care about; they have a similar desire to see the kind of world he fights for, and they choose to fight for it too.

But while Luida is something of a spokesperson for Vash, reaching out to humanity, it is almost as if Meryl becomes the voice of humanity reaching back, responding to him, and agreeing that not everything in the world is awful; that it is worth believing in the best in others. They need to stand together.

[ID: A panel from Trigun Maximum Volume 14. Meryl, in a spacesuit, with frank determination, says, "Because we decided to stand together. We stand with Vash the Stampede." End ID.]

Meryl is the voice of proof that some people believe in the love and peace he speaks of, and are willing to say it back to him in turn.

Updated on my masterpost - my other book club stuff can be found here!

[starlazergazer]

Treasure Planet AU (part 1?)

Pairing: Anakin x reader

Request: A treasure planet AU where Anakin is a cute sexy space pirate! The reader has stolen the map to treasure planet and Captain Dooku knows it, in fleeing his men the reader runs into Anakin and joins his crew in order to save herself.

Warnings: none

Word count: 2.5K

A/N: So I’m really feeling making this into a multi-part story and covering basically the plot of treasure planet but make it star wars so let me know what you guys think and if you want to see more!

 His posture never once slumped.

That was what struck you over the last hour of this interrogation.

No matter how long it dragged on, how many times he had to ask you the same question, “where is the map”, his posture never changed from it’s rigid upright position, his tone never falling into frustration or contempt.

Just the same man standing in the same position asking the same question for an hour. There was something almost admirable in that.

You, however, have been through a plethora of positions.

You started standing, leaning back against the beam you had been tied to below deck of his ship but it didn’t take long before you had sat down, slumped back against the beam. You answers ranged to anything from complete silence to a colorful verity of answers: “oooo I left it at home” “are you absolutely sure you don’t have it” “not sure but I can tell you where you can stick it when you find it”, none of them remotely helpful.

The plan had been to sneak out as soon as he left you alone, afterall the ship was preparing for takeoff surely he as the captain was needed somewhere, but as it became clear you that he wasn’t leaving you decided to get comfortable, untying your wrists anyways since he couldn’t see them and keeping your arms tucked behind your back, you didn’t need the rope burn.

“Where is the-“

He started the same script again and you felt like your head was going to explode with boredom, desperate for anything other than that same question.

“Look Dooku-“

“Captain” he interrupted you and your brain almost lagged in response, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise, it was the first word he had spoken to you that wasn’t “where”, “is”, “the” and “map”.

“Captain Dooku” you corrected yourself happily, sending a small nod his way trying to convey it as the favor to him that it really was “I get the feeling you could do this all day, and I’m saying that we don’t need to because I don’t know what map you’re talking about”

“You and I both know there’s only one person who could have gotten into that vault to clean it out” he answers simply, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he looked down at you.

“Well captain I’m flattered” you pushed a humorless chuckle over your voice, trying to convey an ease you certainly didn’t feel after being below deck tied to a pole for this long “but you and I both know Organa’s vault is impenetrable, whoever broke into that vault has a skill that far surpasses my own”

A silence hung in the air for a brief moment, Dooku looking down at you as just the corners of his mouth started to perk up, you catching your own mistake just moments before he pointed it out to you. “I never said who’s vault it was”

A thousand excuses jumped to your lips but you forced them all down, he had caught you in your lie, plain and simple, nothing to do but own it. “I already sold the map, you want it you’re going to have to track down my buyer”

A single eyebrow raised in your direction, Dooku catching the lie easily for exactly what it was, but a knock on the door interrupted the two of you before he could do anything about it.

Dooku tilted his head in it’s direction more on instinct than anything, no one came through it and he didn’t bother to say anything to the person on the other side, instead turning his attention back to you.

“You have one more chance to tell me where the map before I send in Ventress Ms.Y/L/N” He continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “and we’ll just she’s a woman who specializes in enhanced interrogation”

His hands went behind his back as he threatened you, staring down at you, simply waiting patiently for an answer he was so sure he was going to get. One way or another.

You stared back, mouth clamped shut, eyes never once straying from his in defiance.

“So be it” he shrugged, turning sharply on the spot and exiting through the door.

You were on your feet the moment you heard the lock latch into place, a satisfying pop coming from your shoulder as you stretched it, not happy that you had held it in such an uncomfortable position for so long, pretending to still be tied to the post.

Rope to hold your wrists together, a simple deadbolt to keep you below deck, really you would be insulted if you hadn’t wanted to escape so badly.

A simple pin from your hair and two minutes later the lock was picked and you had slipped through the door before anyone was the wiser.

The deck above was in absolute chaos, a few dozen crew members frantically dashing back and forth to tie down sails, clean up messes, and load the ship with ammo and food, a perfect environment to sneak through.

Head up, shoulders back and you forced yourself into the crowd, matching your pace to those around you as best you could, even going so far as to grab at some ropes nearby and tug at their knots, cementing yourself as one of the crew.

The moment you stopped as you worked with the knots gave you a minute to scan the deck, eyeing the gangplank easily. People rushed up and down it regularly, toting large cargo containers up it onto the ship so it shouldn’t be too hard to blend in there on the way down. All you had to do was make a break for it once you hit the dock, worst came to worst you could beat any of them in a race.

One final tug on the rope and you made your way towards the plank, feet away from freedom when an unexpected hand clapped down on your shoulder.

Before you could think to stop instinct took over, your hand coming up to cover the man’s on your shoulder, twisting under his arm and standing back up straight, holding his now twisted arm in a very uncomfortable position.

“What the-“ the man called out beneath your grasp and it was only then that it occurred to you that he hadn’t reached out to you maliciously, he simply wanted your help.

Dropping his hand letting the man now sitting on the deck cradle it you looked around at the rest of the crew to see that everyone had stopped to stare at you. Whispers broke out amongst the crew, you could hear your name reverberate around the ship.

Then an all too familiar one boomed from up above “somebody grab her”

At the sound of their captains voice the crew sprang into action but they were all too slow, you had already broke into a sprint for the side railing of the ship.

Ducking your shoulder down you pushed a few of them aside with ease, never letting anyone get a hand on you before you reached the railing, your feet effortlessly vaulting it as you leapt from the side of the ship.

There was an uproar from behind you as you made for the dock, weightless for but a moment before you felt the stone below kiss the bottom of your toes. Instinctively you curled in, effortlessly tucking into a roll as soon as you hit the ground, not losing any momentum as you sprung back up to your feet and broke into a sprint down the dock.

You heard the crash of cargo boxes being dropped behind you but didn’t bother to look, instead sprinting down the docks, effortlessly weaving in and out of various crew members as they loaded their ships, until you hit a pocket.

Three ships all packed too close together all trying to load them at once, it was a mess. There were far too many people to try and run through and you could already feel yourself trying to push down the rising panic.

You knew how to do this.

This amount of people would just slow you down and give away your position easily, not to mention someone was bound to get hurt if you just go barreling into the crowd. What you needed to do was hide, the question was where.

There were plenty of cargo boxes large enough to fit you but they were no doubt already filled with supplies, not to mention that in hiding in them you were bound to end up on some random ship.

That was when you spotted him.

He was leaned against the railing on the waters edge, simply watching the chaos before him unfold as people carried boxes up and down the plank next to him, arms crossed comfortably over his chest.

And you knew what you had to do, afterall people tended not to scrutinize that which made them uncomfortable.

Before you could talk yourself out of it you ran up to the stranger, throwing your arms around his neck with no warning.

His eyes widened as he looked down at you, instinct pulling himself away from you though the railing and your arms stopped him from retreating too far.

You saw the first of Dooku’s crew reach the edge of the crowd, their eyes scanning it desperately for any sign of you.

“I’m so sorry” You whispered to the stranger.

And that was all the warning you gave him before crashing your lips into his.

-

The stranger to his credit only hesitated for a moment, a brief shock seizing his body before his hands came up to your waist, softly pulling you deeper into him, playing along beautifully as he kissed you back.

And truthfully you weren’t expecting that. You were prepared for an awkward crash, a moment frozen with your faces pressed together before you could run off, before he could say anything.

Instead what you got was almost soft, almost natural, as if it were something he wanted instead of something you had forced upon him.

And because of that you found that you had to force yourself to pull your focus off of him and back to the task at hand. You pulled your arms slowly from around his neck, hands coming to either side of his face as you pulled back, holding his head close to you as you did, your gaze breaking to peer over your shoulder just catching the back side of Dooku’s men as they rushed further down the dock, ignoring the piercing blue eyes that stared at you from mere inches away, ignoring the large hand that rubbed soft slow circles into your hip from its position on your waist.

Focus, task at hand.

You let go of his face, practically pushing him back from you as you returned your gaze to his, finding yourself uncomfortably breathless beneath it.

“Sorry I-um” you stuttered, and since when were you one to stutter.

You started breaking from him, ready to make your way back down the dock when his hand shot out to grab your arm, his reflexes much faster than you would have thought.

“Look I didn’t mean-“ You started to defend yourself, already somewhat prepared for the argument that was to ensue though pausing when you followed his gaze, eyes pointed back at where Dooku’s men had been as he held you in place before him.

“You’re hiding from Dooku” it wasn’t a question, but the words caught you by surprise, your next words stumbling out of your mouth before you could think better of it.

“You know who Dooku is?”

His gaze broke back down you, his grip never once easing up as a smug smile broke across his face “better yet I know who you are”

You felt the panic start to rise up in your throat, an involuntary jerk of your arm as you tried in vain to break free from his grasp.

“You see rumor has it Dooku found the map” he put emphasis on the ‘the’ making sure you knew that this wasn’t just any map he was talking about, “and I’m willing to bet he didn’t steal that himself”

“You calling me a thief?” you challenged with a raised chin, the man only raising an eyebrow in response as if to say ‘if the shoe fits’.

“Look” the man changed tones, going for a more diplomatic tone of voice as he made a show of letting go of your arm, his arms coming up to cross over his chest “I’m not going to do anything, try and take the map from you or anything, I’m just saying you’re going to need a ship to get you to that planet”

“Who’s to say I’m even going?” you challenged, crossing your own arms over your chest in response “maybe I plan to sell the map”

He chuckled at this, leaning back against the railing casually as he did so “you expect me to believe you plan to give up an entire planets worth of treasure for a one time payment from the highest bidder?”

Well when he put it like that….

“Give me and the crew 50% of whatever we find and we’ll take you out there, you can keep the map and everything”

Your eyes instinctively broke back to where Dooku’s men had been, it was only a matter of time before they came back through. And he was right, you needed a ship to get you to the planet and there weren’t many captains you could pay on the promise of maybe finding treasure.

“40%” You countered.

The man sighed, shoulders slumping slightly as if he were disappointed in your answer though the hint of a smile still played on his face, he’d just bought himself access to that map and he knew it.

“60”

You bit your lip, eyes paranoidly going back to that same spot Dooku’s men were bound to show up “fine, 50”

A grin broke out on the man’s face, his arm coming forward and you were ready to shake his hand but instead it wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you into his side as he laughed before yelling up to the ship before him.

“Rex we’ve got ourselves another galley worker”

“Galley worker?” you demanded, pushing yourself away from his embrace just as a man wearing a first mates hat poked his head over the side of the ship.

“Excellent news captain skywalker” the man called back down, “I’ll talk to cook”

“I’m not working in the galley” you told him, crossing your arms defensively before you “I’m financing this voyage”

“Not yet you aren’t princess” He smirked down at you before making his way towards the plank “now grab the map from wherever you stashed it and get on board I want out of here as soon as possible”

You sighed as you watched the man walk aboard, eyes making one last look around the square before you sighed to yourself “yeah you and me both”

[thesweetnessofsalt]

Process Blog #4: How I Make TSOS!

Just in time for Webcomic Day, it's a real actual process blog! We're going to get into the nitty-gritty of how I make pages of The Sweetness of Salt.

Let's go! :D

This blog was originally written for 1$+ TSOS Supporters and can also be read here on Ko-fi - free to everyone!

Chapter 3 Pages 29 - 32 (ALT text for pages here)

Leah's conversation on the balcony with Arlo is a pretty self contained scene in four pages, and will make a good case study for this blog. There is a full video timelapse at the very end, but I will be laying out my process for The Sweetness of Salt in detail here first!

Working From A Script

Since I'm the only person who works on TSOS, I keep my script pretty loose. I have a good idea now of how much of my writing translates into how many pages, and will sometimes mark significant page turns in the script or describe panel layouts if they occur to me while scripting. However, I generally don't know how I'll lay out the panels until I actually sit down with some paper.

My script mostly serves as an outline; dialogue, blocking, or entire segments can change when I put the characters through it on the page. Still, it's important to follow the script in order keep track of pace and continuity.

Here is the original script for this scene:

Script Excerpt - Chapter 3 (ALT text for script image here)

Compare the script to the text on the actual pages, and there are some big differences! That's pretty typical of my workflow for TSOS. There's an ever growing gap between the day I worked on the script and the day I actually make the pages. By the time I sit down and draw, the characters and story have developed even more in my mind, and there's lots of time for me to experiment and be inspired. (This is definitely a luxury particular to a long running webcomic, though.)

In this particular case, I felt like the conversation in the script wasn't familiar enough for their relationship, and I also wanted to start establishing context for Sha's conundrum a bit sooner than originally planned. 

You could apply these to just about all the script changes I make: they're almost always done to re-emphasize character and story beats. And sometimes the changes are so I could add a joke. Or both!

Thumbnailing

You've heard me complaining about it; you've probably heard me express euphoric bliss about it, too. Thumbnailing is when words become comics, and it's hard!! But it's also the most rewarding part for me, and it's when TSOS actually becomes real. 

There are times when I can thumbnail right from my brain, and  times when every single comic I own is out on the floor for inspiration. I need to be in the right headspace to thumbnail - focused enough to take everything I need to into consideration, but loose enough to visualize the story.

Here's a method that's worked for me lately: by setting aside certain number of pages and just writing out what happens per page, I get a good sense of pacing without having to draw anything yet. It's a good way to get the juices flowing!

It's often, though not always, easier to thumbnail on paper, especially for the early stages. I'm much less precious about my drawings on paper, and feel more comfortable trying several iterations of a page than I am with digital drawing. The undo button and zoom button are enemies of thumbnails!

My thumbnails do ultimately get finalized in Clip Studio Paint, though - I have a template for this tailored to my workflow. The page layouts are in the middle, and are paired the same way they are on Webtoon (where pages post in pairs and need to be harmonious). There's also room on each side for the text/notes, though as you can see I don't always write something if I plan to follow the script.

Thumbnails for Pages 28 - 33 (I'm sorry but I'm not ALT texting this chicken scratch)

When I know I need to work on my thumbnails, I try to fill that week with lots of sketching and a healthy reading diet - including my own script and comic! You want a warm hand and a brain full of comics for thumbnailing, but also lots of energy for your own story.

Scott McCloud's books are, as always, indispensable (Understanding Comics for general theory, Making Comics for more specific techniques), but these guides from Hannah Vardit have also been really helpful in getting my brain around thumbnailing.

Page 31 will be our example page moving forward, so here is that thumbnail in full:

Page 31 Thumbnail

LOL - thumbnail Arlo is my favorite Arlo. 

Though not included here on Page 31, I do generally jot down balloons in my thumbnails, too, which you can see in the other thumbnails. It's good to account for your text early!

I keep these drawings super simple - they're just an indication of blocking and expression. I work more on character acting in the pencil stage.

Tools of the Trade

Alright, now we're getting into the nitty gritty!

One note before we proceed: TSOS is NOT print ready, and nothing about my process should be considered print ready or as advice for print readiness. This is just what's worked well for my webcomic, for the sake of consistency and mobile/web versatility. 

Program: Clip Studio Paint EX

Working Canvas Properties: 2407 x 3675px 350 dpi (Sized down to 940px wide for web, Margins approximately 100 px)

Dialogue Font: Soapy Hands by Sara Linsley (15 pt with few exceptions)

Favorite Pencil: Gritty's Pencil from Frenden's mega pack

Favorite Inker: Real G-Pen (CSP Default)

Character Modeler: MagicPoser for iPad

Cottage Model: floorplancreator.net (Browser app - even works on iPad! Free + simple to use)

I also use Windows Sticky Notes keep track of things like line weights, layer properties, or methods for things that get rendered frequently, such as Sha's sweater. 

"Chapter 3 Style Guide" (ALT text here)

Roughing + Penciling

Before I start drawing, I make the panel borders and place all of the text.

I tend to fuss with my text for a long time, getting the line breaks exactly where I want them, and reading it out loud to make sure the page flow works. Balloons usually come later, once the art is done or mostly done and I can place the tails correctly. For now, the text is enough of a placeholder!

Everyone has their own rules when it comes to lettering, but I look to The Essential Guide to Comic Book Lettering as much as possible for general lettering conventions. It's the best resource out there for a reason, and I'm glad I have a physical copy to reference while I work.

Page 31 Rough Blocking + Lettering

If I need to, I will take references from my model of the cottage or MagicPoser. For this scene, the balcony was simple enough to draw from imagination. Still, I studied its one and only appearance here in Chapter 2 Page 29 -

- as well as my model. I use floorplancreator.net - here is the floor plan for the second floor of the cottage:

And here is a 3D view. Neat, right? It took some time to set up, but it was time well spent. Even if I don't screenshot a reference, I'm using it to help visualize backgrounds and blocking.

I also use my own character assets - essentially just a file with various lineart of character faces saved from previous pages.  I like to pencil from scratch if I have the time, but sometimes I just need to get a page out quickly. I'll drop these in and use them as an undersketch to speed things along.

My collection of 3/4 Facial Assets for Leah and Sha

For Arlo, I almost always sketch on top of a reference, and will reuse his lineart, too. I love him, but I'm not an expert frog illustrator.

With my references assembled, I can start sketching and get everything locked in. This was a page I needed to complete quickly, so I structured shots that could use the same background angle and made sure Leah + Arlo's positioning was consistent and easy to follow. 

Big differences between my thumbnails and final layout are often due to continuity adjustments like that. Important stuff!

Page 31 Pencils

I'm afraid I don't have much else to say about this part - if the thumbnails are where the story becomes a comic, this is where the comic becomes art. I get to be my most expressive and make these characters and places come alive. It's the drawing part, you know? Well, except for that other drawing part.

Inking

I tend to be a rough penciller, letting my inks do the heavy lifting drawing-wise. I suppose 'linearting' might be a better descriptor, because I don't ink with a great deal of toning, black shadows, or even line weights. TSOS is fully colored and rendered, so I tend to keep the inks simple. That's kind of just the style I've built for this comic. 

Background inks always come first, though. It's far easier to resize a character to the background than vice versa. This also encourages me to draw the entire background behind the character, so that art can be reused later. (You should also be finishing the art behind your balloons, by the way!)

Page 31 Lineart

Color + Rendering

Backgrounds come first again! I really do try to keep these as simple as possible, so they're easily replicated and don't suck up all my time. UNLESS: the backgrounds are especially important to the page, like an establishing shot. The overhead balcony shot on Page 30 took a lot longer than these, but with the new location established, I could let these pages be more about Leah's conversation and gestures.

This balancing act dictates my entire comic page process. Whichever element is most important to this page - the character acting, the environment, the action, etc - is the element that gets the most of my time, and I'll actively reduce effort in less important areas. It's good for time management, yes, but it also keeps the story focused!

Page 31 Flat Character Color > Rendered Character > Full Color Page

Each character gets filled in with white so their colors can be clipped to the layers above. Again, colors are pretty simple - it's more about the mood lighting here. MagicPoser lets you manipulate lighting, so sometimes I like to go a little ham with the rendering. It's one of my favorite ways to give a scene some 'oomf'.

Typical Layer Hierarchy for Characters (These are normally never labeled. I did that because I love you)

The MVP in all of this is the Erase Along Edge tool. It makes coloring so fast, and when I first adopted it, it cut my process time in half. 

The link will take you to its listing on the CSP asset store, which has detailed instructions for how to use it. Once you figure it out, you can set other brushes to erase along the edge, or even to color within an edge! Neat stuff. I especially like it when I need to color many small background elements.

Finishing and Lettering

A long time ago, TSOS's balloons were very fussy, tedious, hand-drawn squovals. When I made revisions to Chapter 1+2, the bulk of it was just re-lettering it all to something simple and consistent.

I've only just recently started experimenting with the joined balloons you see on this page, so I've got a lot to learn and a lot to try out. There are a couple of things I keep in mind for legibility, like giving the letters lots of room inside the balloon's edge. Clarity is way more important than being fancy.

Curve Balloon tool > place four points only

Manipulate points for symmetry, fit

Add tail

Done!

Since I placed my text early and kept adjusting it along the way, I don't have to worry about my balloons having enough room or looking nice with the art. I can just click my lil points and be on my way!

Page 31 Finished Page

Still a few finishing touches left: the whooshes, the eye shines, and of course, the sparkles. What's left to say? This is objectively the best part.

Wrapping It Up

Whoo, another comic page down! Excluding the time spent thumbnailing, pages take me about 8-10 hours to make. Ideally, I do this across two days, with inking one and coloring the next. 

Here is the full video timelapse of the page! Click through the video to check out the description, where I've timestamped the whole process.

The timestamps on this one definitely made me laugh - I jump around a lot more than the ideal, linear process described in this blog. You can tell I struggled with the lineart on this one, because I keep having to come back to it. But there's always something else to work on - I try not to let myself get stuck in one spot for too long.

There you have it! Those are all my trade secrets. Just over 2k words, and I don't think I can add anything more. But if you want to know anything else or have any questions, you can leave them here and I'll add them to the next blog!

Thanks for reading!

This blog was originally written for 1$+ TSOS Supporters and can also be read here on Ko-fi - free to everyone. Become a 1$+ supporter and you get early access to all of my comic pages and process blogs!

[safetycar-restart]

I love to bring you ideas because you just knock it out of the park every single time, and you're just so articulate and amazing about it.

So now my little brain is just whirring and I would like you to elaborate on the "Pierre needing something softer but not just saying that" idea, because I'm now wondering if it would also be situational? Like, a bad race weekend (hi Aus 23 😅) where he'd blame himself and ask for a punishment instead of reassurance. Also, would you know? Would you be able to work out what he was needing and make the decision to call him on it, or have the after-care plan in place from the get go.

Thank you so much.

-🐼

YES ABSOLUTELY WE CAN EXPAND ON IT!!!

I definitely think it would be situational, but I actually think it might be situational in the reverse way?

Firstly, you make the rule that you’ll never punish him for what he does on track. Even if he was obviously in the wrong, you won’t punish him for it. The way you treat him isn’t contingent on how well he performs, and he needs to know that you will ALWAYS love and support him, that you love him for him and not for being an F1 driver.

So while it might be an issue at first, it’s one that’s resolved reasonably quickly.

However, I think Pierre really struggles to ask for what he needs when he doesn’t have a ‘reason’ to need things to be softer? Cause when he’s had a bad race, he feels like his feels are justified and that it’s reasonable for him to ask to be treated softly.

But when he just has a bad day? Or when he just wakes up and wants something soft? He really struggles then because he feels like it’s not justified, like he doesn’t have a good enough reason to need it.

Sometimes you can pick up on it, but it’s difficult because you never want to invalidate him. You have to trust that what he’s telling you is the truth, because he has to know that you will give him what he asks for. If you go doubting him every time, then he’ll feel like you aren’t a safe space.

So it’s so difficult to work out what he really needs, because you never want to tell him that you don’t trust your words.

I do think he would safeword though. And he safewords before the intense things even happen. Maybe you start the scene by tying him, and Pierre LOVES being tied. He loves the feeling of the rope against his skin, of the way you make sure to kiss his skin before you tie it, how you always check on him, how good he feels in the rope, etc.

He doesn’t say anything as you tie him, because honestly he’s enjoying it so much. What he would really have liked is just a tying scene, you tie him and then just let him float, maybe even a soft handjob if he’s lucky.

But he didn’t say that. He said he wanted to be pushed, because he didn’t think he could ask for anything else when he had no reason to need it softer.

He safewords the moment you move on from the tying. You always pause for a moment after you’ve tied him, running your hands along his skin, letting him relax against the rope and making sure he’s comfortable before continuing.

The moment you stop and wait like that, he calls red. He doesn’t want anything else, and he’s already panicking at the thought of you pulling away to go fetch whatever else will be used this scene.

You stop instantly, stepping away at first but then quickly coming back when Pierre whines and turns to face you, trying to reach you. You grab the safety scissors, ready to cut him out the rope but he shakes his head and just presses himself to you. He doesn’t want to be untied, he wants to stay right here.

So you hold him like that, waiting for him to calm enough to tell you what’s wrong. He starts talking eventually, telling you that he really wanted a soft rope scene but that he didn’t think he could ask for that because he had no reason to mess the comfort.

Your heart just breaks for him, because he should know that he can ALWAYS ask for that comfort. You’re supposed to be his safe space.

It takes a lot of talking once Pierre it out the rope before it gets resolved.

In the end, it gets decided that you will always ask Pierre if he wants a softer scene. You end up with five questions to always ask each other before you do a scene, even when you’ve both discussed the scene extensively beforehand.

The five questions are:

1) How are you feeling physically?

2) how are you feeling emotionally?

3) do you want the scene we have planned at this exact moment?

4) do you think you’ll need anything extra for aftercare?

5) is there anything last minute you want to incorporate?

You ALWAYS ask those questions, and then he’s able to express what he really needs.

[funkymbtifiction]

Hi Charity! First of all, thank you so much for all the work you’ve done on here. I’ll miss you on here! Wishing you all the best in your retirement!

Secondly, I was wondering if something I experience is an example of lower Se, that I don’t remember being seen talked about. I believe I’m an INFJ if the lower Ti impacts this as well.

I find in most (if not all) physical activity, if I think about it how to do it, I will almost always make a mistake. It’s only in “turning off” my brain, that I find success. For example, I’ve participated in a weekly dance class with a client for 7 years. It’s a dance class for beginner dancers over the age of 50. I am not a beginner dancer and I’m in my 20’s. Many of the routines have stayed the same for 7 years, yet I couldn’t tell you what a single routine is. I can follow along in the class without issue, but I absolutely can not do one of the dances without the instructors lead. I can however sometimes correct her mistakes, when I feel my body pull me in a different direction, but if my brain is actively involved, I’m lost.

Thanks again!

Hmm. This is interesting, because I see what you mean. I don't know if it's tied to intuition or if it's tied to being "in your mind, and not in your body." It could actually be coming from the head center within the Enneagram -- trying to think about what you are doing, instead of just trusting your body to know what it's doing. In other words, taking something that should be physical and instinctual and processing it through the mind instead. I would guess it's a combination of both -- the intuitive being disconnected from their physical body and the environment, but also a head type "running the machine" consciously and neglecting to allow the body to do its thing. The mind is quite remarkable, in how it learns things so well, we don't need to think about doing them -- but I have noticed that you may "know" something but the minute you start THINKING about how to do it, you can't do it anymore. Your brain gets confused.

Being "lost" and not tracking steps or remembering them except when you are doing them with an instructor is an intuitive problem, though -- usually our minds are wandering and we don't pay that much attention to sequences, details, or in what order to things.

[kyuqtq]

Take My Breath Away

A treat for @codesandstuffs as part of the @extremetimedchallengeexchange

Relationship: Tango & Bdubs

Characters: Tango, Bdubs

CW for suffocation, death loops

Summary: It can sometimes feel very difficult to breathe even when not surrounded by the vacuum of space.

Tango ended Season 8 in a very similar way to everyone else. Alone, and scared, and unsure of the future. However, most people either died in the initial blast or hid away in another world. Tango failed , trying so hard to sacrifice himself in order to save his friends. He wasn’t able to blow up the moon or change the trajectory or anything, instead messing up the redstone early and blasting himself far away from both the moon and Hermitcraft. 

Tango tried his hardest to fight against the blast, lucky that it didn’t manage to puncture his spacesuit and that he wasn’t frozen solid by the vacuum of space. At least, he initially thought he was being lucky. He quickly changed his mind as he was forced to watch as the moon slammed into the planet, wiping out everything in a single painful moment. He could feel the tears streaming down his face as the planet burns, as everything that they worked for is torn away. He knows that it’s not permanent, that after however long everyone will be moved to the new world and it will be fine again.

He just has to wait until then.

How long could it be? He should have enough air to last a while, and since he isn’t moving or doing anything it’s not like his hunger is decreasing. He can last plenty of time.

He’s floating away from the remnants of the planet, leaving behind everything - not that there’s anything left - and finds himself floating without direction through the cosmos. He’s barely aware of his surroundings– it’s almost like he’s AFK, noting the stars and space dust that he passes with almost glazed over eyes.

He can’t keep track of time, only coming back into awareness when an alarm starts blaring in his ears.  He’s running out of air, Season 9 should have started by now. What is Xisuma doing? He feels the way the air is getting thinner in his helmet, his ears are ringing. 

He hasn’t actually thought about what will happen when he respawns.

The panic strikes in an instant. What is going to happen when he respawns? Spawn is gone. His home is gone. Will he respawn in his suit? Will his suit have air? He’s suddenly so aware of how far he’s gone; he’s had to have traveled thousands of blocks at this point. His coords aren’t working, haven’t been working even when there was a planet for point-of-reference. 

He’s gasping, trying his hardest to keep his breathing even but his brain is refusing to cooperate. His breaths are growing more and more shallow, the alarms are becoming more distant in his ears. His eyes drift closed and he just has to hope that when he respawns it will be in Season 9.

His eyes open and the alarm is already going again. He lets out a soft whine and closes his eyes. He's been trapped in a death loop before, but this somehow feels far worse. Maybe it's something to do with the fact that there's no way out of the loop, maybe it's that the time between deaths is getting shorter. He stares at the remains of the planet and the moon before allowing his eyes to close again.

He loses track after the tenth death, going from panicking to accepting to ignoring. Tango's stopped thinking about it entirely, going on to try and make plans for next season. He wants to make the second Decked Out, not to mention his grand plans for the base itself. He has no idea how much time has passed, space is always the same light level, simultaneously pitch black and perfectly lit at the same time. His lungs ache terribly, and he has to wonder if they somehow aren't managing to fully recover before he completes the respawn cycle. That thought is worrying; the idea of being caught in a loop that will affect him next season as well.

He checks chat, knowing it's nonfunctional, and isn't surprised that he only sees his own death messages. Either he's the only one in this death cycle or chat isn't working well enough to show the others. He hopes that everyone else is fine. He doesn't want anyone else to be experiencing this. Next respawn he tries to suck in a breath, almost curious to see if next time he’ll have a bit more oxygen. He doesn’t, but it was an experiment to perform and something to distract from how hopeless his situation is. 

He tries to let himself go AFK again, but the respawn is forcing him into awareness. Tango can’t think of how long it’s been, but it feels too long. There’s never been this much time between seasons before, and he can’t help his panic when he considers the possibility of missing the transfer because he was stuck in space while everyone moved to Season 9. But they would realize, right? They would see that Tango was missing and try to find him, right?

He’s stopped bothering to open his eyes after each respawn. Now it’s just his shallow breaths and his flickering consciousness. Which is why it takes him a second to realize when he no longer feels weightless. He opens his eyes, finding himself collapsed on soft, green grass. He scrambles into an upright position, sitting on the ground , and his eyes burn as he looks around. 

It’s daytime, there’s the sun in the sky and it’s so bright that it hurts but he’s so excited that he can’t look away. In the distance, he can hear classic Day 1 shenanigans, and he’s laughing hard enough that tears are welling in his eyes. He’s here, he’s alive.

He still can’t breathe. 

Why can’t he breathe? 

He’s not in space, he’s on the planet, everything should be fine. So why can’t he breathe? Why is he crying? A hand rests on his back and he practically leaps out of his skin. He can barely make out the green blob through watery eyes. 

“You have to try and breathe for me, alright, Tango? Nice and deep breaths.” He honestly accepted that he was never going to hear Bdubs’ voice again, so hearing such an earnest attempt at comfort just propels him further into tears. 

Tango clings to Bdubs like his life depends on it, almost knocking the smaller man over from the force of it. Bdubs manages to hold it together for a bit, but Tango can make out the way that his shoulders shake. His breathing is still shallow, but he can shove that aside enough to try and express how overjoyed he is to be here. He was starting to think they forgot about him. He thought that he was going to be stuck there forever.

“We… We all agreed to take a longer break between seasons. I didn’t realize… I wish we hadn’t. What happened to you, for you to be cryin’ like this?”

He doesn’t have the words to explain what happened, much less the breath. His lungs still hurt, what had once become a more familiar ache is now burning again at full force. He doesn’t want to let go of Bdubs, but he can feel the familiar darkness at the edge of his consciousness. Faintly, he can make out Bdubs crying out something, but the words aren’t there. He feels his grip start to lessen, and with the last of his strength he grabs Bdubs' arm in a death grip.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s in a makeshift bed out under the stars. He stares up at them, wondering if they’re the same constellations as the last world. He’s taking a slow, deep breath, and he’s grown so used to barely being able to breathe that it almost seems to hurt more. His lungs are able to fill entirely and he’s determined to ignore the way that his breath shakes as he exhales.

He’s here, though. Season 9 has started and whatever caused the moon to fall should be an impossibility in this world. So he’s fine. He has his plans all figured out, down to a mental blueprint; he can throw himself into his projects and never think about it again. It’s fine .

He turns his head to the side, forcing himself to ignore the stars overhead, and he sees Bdubs sleeping besides him. He’s still clutching his arm. He sighs, it’s been a while since he had enough oxygen to be able to do things like sigh. He forces himself to breathe deeply, because he can do that, and because that’s what he would be doing normally. He wants to be able to put this behind him. Never wants to think about the moon or space again.

And he will be alright, eventually. He’s moved on from every other thing that has happened to him. From the Life Games and Demise and everything else. So he knows that he’ll be okay, he just has to convince his brain and body the same thing. The other hermits are here, they’re okay, so he doesn’t have to worry about them and their safety. 

For now, he can just rest. Bdubs seems more than content to be sleeping beside him; he doesn’t have to worry about being left alone. He can allow his eyes to drift closed out of exhaustion instead of asphyxiation for once. He gives Bdub’s hand a squeeze and falls asleep. He doesn’t dream of anything but building.

He wakes feeling well-rested for the first time in ages. Consciousness comes back to him slowly, his eyes open slowly and his breathing is deep. He looks around, startled to find a building has sprung up around him. The interior is sparse, but the texturing in the walls remind him of Bdubs’ style, but that doesn’t make sense. Why would Bdubs bother to make him a building when he isn’t staying here? Speaking of, where is Bdubs?

He didn’t realize that he was actually alone; Bdubs must have gone somewhere while he was asleep. That’s… okay. He’s fine with being alone, he doesn't have to worry. He can feel his breathing getting shallower, but just being aware of it doesn’t do anything to help him. He’s trying his best to control his breathing, but none of his usual tricks are working. With a shaking hand, he pulls out his chat and looks over the player list. 

Bdubs isn’t online. Neither is Keralis. He grimaces, trying to resolve himself to spending the rest of his panic attack alone when a message pops up in the chat.

Bdouble0100 has joined the game.

Bdubs is in the room before he can even type out a message. Practically leaping from the doorway into Tango’s bed. They hold each other like the world is ending again, like if they let go then they won't ever have a chance again. Bdubs is crying, Tango can barely process the fact over his own tears.

"We're alright, Tango. We're okay." Bdubs sniffles as he talks. "X said he fixed everything; it won't happen again."

Tango wishes he could find the words to respond but he's stuck trying his best to just keep his breathing even enough to stay conscious. Bdubs has never felt so small in his grasp before, so vulnerable. But they're both here, and safe. He knows that Xisuma wouldn't allow something like this to happen again; he knows that the moon crashing was an anomaly that will not repeat itself. He takes a deep, shaky breath and tries to ignore the way that Bdubs' eyes are wet when he looks up at him.

"I'm glad you're okay. I'm glad we're here." It's not enough to truly capture how he's feeling, the sheer gratefulness that he's in Season 9 and out of the ruined vacuum of Season 8. His breath still feels shallow, but he's here, he's breathing.

[thesinglesjukebox]

100 GECS - "HOLLYWOOD BABY"

We kick off week two of our reanimation with CONTROVERSY MONDAY. Time to find out once and for all how predictable we are!

[6.05]

Aaron Bergstrom: On March 4, 2023, in a cold, TSJ-less world, I wrote a few track reviews for my sorely neglected blog, including this one for "Hollywood Baby": "By far the dumbest song on this list, and yet it leaves me with a huge grin on my face every time I hear it. I can say with 100% certainty that (a) The Singles Jukebox would have reviewed this, (b) I would have given it a [9], (c) the next highest score would have been a [4] at best, and (d) multiple very smart people would have given it a [0]. I don't care. It's great." I have never been more confident in a prediction, and eight months later this song still makes me want to get drunk and light off fireworks indoors. [9]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Sometimes it can feel exhausting to enjoy 100 gecs because their music feels shrouded behind 100 (10,000?) layers of irony. "Hollywood Baby," however, is big, loud, and stupid enough that it avoids this problem entirely. [7]

Vikram Joseph: Early 2000s punk-pop succeeded on two distinct levels -- songs that were radically dumb or deeply, unabashedly sincere. (Certain Blink-182 songs managed both, and that's why they're giants of the genre, for whatever that's worth now as they lurch around the globe like a three-legged nightmare of Christmas past.) "Hollywood Baby" feels like a misguided science experiment -- what if we precision-designed a Sum 41 riff and threw some PC Music vocals over it? Wouldn't that be post-modern? There's no heart, too much brain, and ultimately it's just quite grotesque. [3]

Will Rivitz: Even when they sound like Sum 41 they do! not! miss! Absolutely improbable banger and change to spare. [9]

Daniel Montesinos-Donaghy: Every major label on Earth should pause their direct debit to Travis Barker until he starts svengali-ing pop-punk facsimiles as good as this. [8]

Taylor Alatorre: It makes total sense to seek refuge in the relative simplicity and guilelessness of pop punk songwriting; I do it all the time. It makes less sense to view that style as an emblem of a mythical bygone purity that disappeared sometime between Tha Carter III and the 2010 midterms shellacking. I mean, the guys who made "Fat Lip" weren't some three-chord noble savages -- those Canadians really could shred. And maybe it's part of the joke that the gecs enlist actual superhuman Josh Freese to lay down a beat that wouldn't even be a tier 1 drum track on Rock Band, but that's too many layers of abstraction for music that constantly insists upon how dumb it is. Point is, both virtuosity and amateurism were key elements of major-label punk in the 2000s, and a pastiche that focuses exclusively on the latter runs the risk of devolving into vaudeville, or what's worse, novelty music. The high points of "Hollywood Baby" are the parts that enliven the caricature by taking influence, perhaps unconsciously, from the artists that Brady and Les might have listened to in high school rather than middle school -- Uffie, Santogold, M.I.A., and yes (*sigh*)... Sleigh Bells. The hectic four-on-the-floor lead-in to the chorus arrives as a welcome disruption to all the shiftless lo-fi riffage, and it serves as an example of the kind of effortless cathartic release that was easier to find on 100 gecs' debut than on the sequel. [5]

Katherine St Asaph: This sounds almost normal, and I can't tell whether that's because 100 gecs have ~*~*~*sold out*~*~*~ or because the Internet now offers a million more post-hyperpop rabbitholes that lead to places a million times weirder and horrifying. It sounds like finding a decaying issue of YM in your childhood bedroom, then shopping the slimy, waterlogged pop-punk spread online with your own adult money. [7]

Frank Falisi: The falsest artistic binary is the one between accessible and avant, between pop and experimental. These are tendencies, for sure, useful for composing in or avoiding altogether to suit an aesthetic process. But ultimately, the notion that something is either churnable or difficult comes down to the (blessedly) complicated relationship a listener builds with a sound, rather than the (equally complicated) one between it and its composer. Selling out is a whole other thing--we're talking about strategies of distance and intimacy, staying sharp only so long as it lets us connect, gloriously spilling over into each other. Isn't part of the earnestness of 1000 gecs in its experimentation? When we talk about charting the changes--in the body, in the same song--aren't we exploring how "pop" and "experimental" settle in the same physical moment? Those wiggles can hug! And now, a descent into pastiche, into caking and eating it archly. What I mean is: what is this Japandroids shit? Are you being clever? How's clever going for you? [2]

Brad Shoup: One of the more straight-ahead tracks on 10,000 gecs, which for our heroes still means "pop-punk but mixed like a crime". The riff is sick; the gecs rock back and forth like a prizefighter sizing up the opponent. It's catharsis all the way through, even on a chorus that reads like machine-learning crunkcore. [7]

Michelle Myers: It seems the conventional wisdom is that "Hollywood Baby" sounds like blink-182, but I actually lived through 2000s pop-punk the first time, and this is way more Good Charlotte. [7]

Leah Isobel: This sounds like Yellowcard. [7]

Anna Katrina Lockwood: This sounds like a slightly more legible update on Times New Viking, so of course I love it. [8]

Alfred Soto: Fuzzy fun -- Sleigh Bells meets Paramore. Attitude compensates for middling hook. [6]

Ian Mathers: For some reason I didn't like the "Ringtone" remix back in the day (maybe I just hadn't been burped), but everything I've heard since has been great. And look, anyone in 2023 who's going to make a record that contains both this and "Frog on the Floor" (to say nothing of sequencing them in a row) is clearly on the side of the angels. [8]

Nortey Dowuona: juiceworld2 once said this band sounded like white privilege. They were right. During the first hype cycle for Dylan Brady and Laura Les, they were scooping up incredibly corny, laughable music and serving it with a heavy dose of irony that made it only mildly entertaining. There would be actual innovation done with the form, novel uses of long overused effects and the destruction of conventional structure. But now they're making bland pop-rock that Olivia Rodrigo could write a rough draft of in a week or an hour. And we hyped them to the moon as these inventive, creative artists who deserved the serious recognition we gave them -- why? [5]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: For a while there, 100 gecs had me feeling like Adorno with Schoenberg. At last, here was a contemporary artist who represented total freedom, though in this case it was from the tyranny of taste and genre. More importantly, they interrogated the ways in which sounds are readily situated in a particular social milieu. They didn't need a gimmick to blend different styles, as 2000s emo bands did with their Punk Goes Pop and Punk Goes Crunk albums. They also didn't care for musical styles to feel like discrete parts of a song, as acts like Falling in Reverse and BABYMETAL did before them. On "Stupid Horse," they threw in melodies from blink-182's "Roller Coaster" alongside cartoonish ska skanks, wimpy gang vocals, and unabashedly excited guitar shredding. This was maximalist joy wrought from patchwork. 10,000 gecs isn't quite the same. It's less a surrealist, sublime hodgepodge than the band throwing a simple twist on individual ideas. "Hollywood Baby" is the nadir of this newfound modesty. I hear 2000s pop punk once again, but only the drums provide a real differentiation between past and present. A song like the Mark Hoppus-featuring "I'd Do Anything" had snares that sounded like skateboards hitting pavement; "Hollywood Baby" goes for blown-out bombast. Even the lyrics are more straightforward! I get no joy from these simple pleasures. Again, I feel like Adorno: this is what he'd call "stubborn rationalization." [0]

Jonathan Bradley: "Hollywood Baby" has a thick fat-fingered guitar riff and flailing power chords and might as well be constructed from oversized cargo shorts and a chain wallet. I was so struck by 1000 gecs back in 2019 because it seemed to absorb the seething hatreds of the time and the disruption of a world on fire and respond with their own form of chaos: if the world refused to make sense, their music was its own kind of senseless excess. This is less warped zeitgeist and more of a good time. But you can pogo to a good time. [8]

Tim de Reuse: It's well-executed, the soft -> loud transition within the first verse is very energetic, and it's probably cathartic to chant along with at a concert. Good clean fun. Hey, do you remember 2019? Remember when you heard "Money Machine" for the first time and it seemed ridiculous that it could get as big as it was getting, even if you didn't like it all that much? Remember when the term "hyperpop" had a kind of unbounded promise to it -- not even because you liked it, but because it felt like it had some kind of velocity behind it? This Lil Nas X guy came out of nowhere entirely off this new TikTok thing -- totally new methods of hitmaking! Things could get more abrasive -- more weird -- things might finally start to shift around, and we could all look back and tell Mark Fisher that he was wrong, and the early 21st century was just a kind of inexplicable plateau we had to push through so that popular Western music could finally lurch into the future, and I'm sure if he'd been around he would have been glad to hear it. And then 2020 happened, and then we lost SOPHIE, we got "ABCDEFU," and Taylor made a gesture in the direction of an album and got the top ten spots of the Billboard charts simultaneously. Yeah, I'm making up a narrative here -- it's not fair of me to project my hopes and dreams onto the gecs and their own creative ambitions. It's not fair of me to say "It's perfectly serviceable, but if I were in their situation I would have done something that would have saved the world." But, like, imagine -- stay with me -- imagine if the verses on this had been deep-fried ska instead of distorted middle-school power pop mush. I'm not saying that would have been good music. But, like. World fucking peace, man. [5]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: I really loved 1000 gecs! [3]

Tara Hillegeist: In the years between the release of the seminal California pop-punk albums Enema of the State and The Young and the Hopeless, both of which find parts of themselves "quoted" on "Hollywood Baby" and the 100 gecs album to which it belongs, two notable things had happened to a young Tara: my house got "the internet" and I made my first friends who both lived outside my neighborhood and who I could write to and expect an immediate response from; and two people I cared about dearly died, one shortly after the other: my great-uncle, and one of said "internet friends." I guess I'm supposed to wish I could say I wept harder for my uncle -- but he was survived by the rest of my family, in whose arms I found his memory impossible to escape, even should I have wanted to. Meanwhile, I spent three months painstakingly tracing my friend's initials on the back of my hand in black Sharpie, the only proof I could manifest in my life that she ever existed, that her presence mattered to anyone I knew at all. There was a poetic irony, at least to a morbid preteen, that her username's initials, "DNR," also spelled out the universal medical shorthand for "Do Not Resuscitate". There's a different sort of irony to that as I write this now, on the other side of COVID and still living with the side effects, more dead friends than I have fingers later. To be a trans woman in her mid-30s now feels a little bit like getting all the downsides of the rockstar biopic montage and none of the talking-head dividends -- drugs to keep you alive, drugs to drown in, a bunch of assholes ready to call you washed and wasted at the first sign of failing, and if you haven't started rotting away in some obscure hotel room where nobody who loves you knows how to find you then you're looking over your shoulder waiting for the gossip-rag sword of Damocles to fall instead. A glamorous life is a whole fantasy away -- if only it were as easy as it looked, then, to mess up my way to success. To have fun like it was real anyway is no small thing. [7]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[thefloatingstone]

I finished my first run! After 277 hours! Did you know the credits are 25 minutes long? Because they are.

Also in my game the final blow to the Elder Brain (because I like keeping track of that kind of thing) was the Elder Brain itself. It had 2hp left, summoned one of those "marked for destruction" or whatever things right next to itself to try and attack Tav and Astarion and I guess summoning it did slight AOE damage and it was JUST enough to kill that last 2hp it had left. GOOD JOB ASSHOLE.

I didn't choose to go off and be with the Emperor because this Tav did not take a SINGLE PARASITE the entire game (which I didn't get an achievement for which is lame) so it seemed OOC for her to just randomly change her mind about that at the end.

I'm sad The Emperor doesn't have a scene at the end party :( I was thinking you could have a line with him away from the main group or something but he simply just doesn't come which is sad. However he did send a letter and signed it with "Your Friend, The Emperor" so I will fucking take it. I plan to do an Emperor focused run with this same Tav at some point in the future.

Right now tho, I'm going to restart the game with a new character and focus on romancing Astarion because I actually missed out on a lot of his dialogue because his affinity in my run was low to "good" for the entire game and only because good near the end of act 2. So this next run I'm gonna try and warm up to him more. There are also some choices I want to do differently but idk how many I'll be able to change because I am a soft creature who gets too upset about being mean to video game characters 😭 it makes me feel bad and upsets me too much.

And of course I plan to do a Durge run as well. And because I dislike being mean to video game characters I'll try playing a good Durge character and make it a Total Recall situation for angst reasons because that sounds fun.

I am a little sad the main story is over, I won't lie. It is a little sad. But I like that even the ending encourages you to play again. And my ADHD ass brain can continue milking the dopamine from the game until I exhaust it. Of course I'll have no idea what to do with myself after that which is a little depressing and sad to think about. But I'm trying to do what that one tumblr post said about "No borrowing future grief". Because I am not even remotely ready to say goodbye to any of these characters yet and like have them just.. ... not be there any more because "The game is over".

Except Jaheira. Fuck Jaheira. All my homies hate Jaheira.

I'm off to face the Elder Brain this weekend and I am not happy about approaching the end of this game 😭 Yes I am planning to restart it right away with a new character. Yes I still have the entire Durge playthrough to do. Yes I'm going to do a perfect Emperor run at some point. But Mass Effect has done such irreparable trauma to me with "game endings" that I'm sitting here in DREAD just anticipating the depression and sadness once I "finish" this game.

[queenofanime]

Deadly Sins (Sinbad x Reader)

Pinterest image uploaded by zerochan anime

"Your father would be disappointed". 

The man before you stopped dead in his tracks. Body stiffening and eyes widening from the audacity he had just heard. 

By now, Sinbad's golden hues were filled with hate, anger boiling up quickly. How could you, Y/n, his soulmate, who he supposably loves, say such a thing? 

Outside, the night was dark, with the moon barley making an appereance. Many clouds blocking the few stars that radiated some sort of light. The wind made itself present with the ruffuling of the trees. Despite the cold weather, you felt hot, Sinbad's eyes piercing through your soul. And while the look on the man, you thought you knew, was slowly killing you, you didn't regret a single word.

You knew Sinbad since he was just a 16 year old dork, who told stories about his adventures in the colosseum, in the most cheesy way possible you may add. You knew him as the guy who was thrown off a cliff naked, alongside Ja’Far and Mystras. You did not know, however, the guy who sacrificed Serendine so he could get Zepar, nor did you know the man standing in front of you. ‘Cause he was not your Sinbad. 

Lost in your train of thought, you did not notice the man walking towards you and closing the distance gap. Only when he leaned in and your skin felt his breath, did you realize of the dangerous situation you had gotten yourself into. 

“I dare you to say that again”. 

Just as you had anticipated, his voice was harsh and low, sending shivers down your spine. You did not waver though…because you meant every single thing. 

“I know you Sinbad. I damn well know who I fell for and you are not that person. I know your father was kind and simple and I sure as hell know your mother didn’t raise you to be a manipulative bitch! So yeah, both would be disappointed”.

Sinbad scowl just deepened but it soon turned to a laughing fit, a psychotic laughing fit. You could only watch and swallow hard for this being the first time you ever witness said reaction. Sinbad would have never thrown his hand at you or hurt you in any way, now you weren’t so sure. 

His laughter soon ceased to exist. 

“I created an utopia! I’ve made the world’s economy grow! I hAVe cReaTED PEACE! I’VE Made tHe WORLD A BETTER PLACE! And YOU DarE—But at what cost?!”

Your sudden outburst took the formerly known King of Sindria by surprise. You always did know how to go toe-to-toe with him. 

“At what cost?” You ask again. And while you don’t notice it, Sinbad sees the tears running down your face hysterically. “You lied to your friends and used them as pawns, you attacked the Kou, manipulated Aladdin, Ali Baba, Kougyoku, and countless others. Yamato Takeruhiko, Ren Hakuryuu, and Nerva Julius are in a wanted list?! Look around you, there’s nothing left.” By now, your crying your eyes out and you hated yourself for it. Allowing someone to see you in this vulnerable state was despiteful. Taking a small breath, you decided to appeal to the logical side of your brain. “You’ve abandoned the people you swore to protect, and yes, you created an utopia, but when things are too good to be true…is because they are.” 

Your mother always told you to keep your chin high and you were not gonna disappoint her now. With redden eyes you looked up at the man who had broken your heart.A small part of you wished that he would reflect on what you’ve said, but it was wishful naive thinking. Sinbad’s eyes were void of emotion.

With shaky breaths you continued. “But above all the horrible things you’ve done, I never thought you would do the thing I feared the most.” “Yeah, and what is that?” 

You looked at Sinbad one last time while you backed away towards the door. 

“You stopped loving me.” 

__________________-

If you enjoy my writing, even just a little bit... can you follow my insta?

I'm trying to grow my newly created art account: nena_rpa

Your support would mean the world to me :)

[greatlydelirious]

𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

Mark Hoffman x F!Reader

requested by: @ghoul-lily​

wordcount: 1.9k words

warnings: smut, phone sex, rough language, masturbation, slight power dynamics

For the hundredth time in the last hour, you toss and turn in bed. Although it was late in the night for you, it wasn’t for your boyfriend. He was still working tirelessly in the office and that irked you. You weren’t trying to be selfish, but you needed him. Badly.

Mark Hoffman was a senior Detective Lieutenant at the Metropolitan Police Department. Between tracking down Jigsaw’s next move and being out on the field, he had little time to spare. Somehow Mark would squeeze time in his busy schedule to see you.

That entailed either a quickie in his office or waking up very early in the morning to his hot body pressed against your own. However, it had been too long since you even heard the sultry man’s voice. The thought alone made you insatiably wet.

Biting your lip, you battle with yourself mentally. Mark was only a phone call away. Due to the time of day, or night rather, there should be no one in the office you would be disturbing by calling the Detective.

When you rub your thighs together you make your decision. If you don’t get some kind of relief courtesy of Mark you will never fall asleep.

Reaching over to your bedside table you open your flip phone. With a single press of a button, you call Mark. Of course, you had him on speed dial. In your defense, he practically forced you to do it.

Mark had a strong protectiveness over you that at times, was overwhelming with how much it consumed you. It should have made you run for the hills, but it only reinforced that he craved you as much as you did him.

After only two rings your call is picked up, “Detective Hoffman.” A smile spreads across your lips at just the taste of his voice. “Are you busy Detective? It’s urgent.” Your words on a normal day would cause alarm, but the soft low tone of your voice exposed the kind of state you were on.

Mark didn’t even have to ask who it was. Every aspect of you was so engrained in his brain he could pick you in a lineup blindfolded by just touching your hand. “Is it now? What’s wrong baby?” The endearing nickname always made goosebumps spread across your skin.

Gnawing on your lip you hesitate for a moment. When your silent Mark purrs out your name in a low whisper. Well, you got this far, no turning back now. “I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I think about you. I ache for you, Mark.”

Despite your courage, a warm flush covers your voice. Mark preferred when you didn’t talk in circles about what you wanted. He was a brash man, some would say rude, but that’s how he stayed on the top of the food chain. Mark didn’t have time for games. If only you knew the irony of that thought.

On the other end, you can hear the creak of Mark’s leather chair. Imagines of how he must look all disheveled from a long day in his suit spurs your libido on. As if he was having the same thoughts Mark asks, “What are you wearing?”

The cliché comment would have made you laugh if you weren’t so turned on. You run a hand along your bare thigh. “Only one of your shirts and those lacy red panties.” They were his favorite pare. Mark always said you were a “vision in red”.

“You’re trying to tempt me, aren’t you? All dressed up for me even when I’m not home.” The low rasp of his voice displayed Mark’s own desire.

It takes too much concentration to keep the phone to your ear. Your hand trembled with anticipation at Mark’s every last word. “I can’t help it. You’re all I think about.” It was the truth. Somehow Mark Hoffman had managed to possess your whole being. If he told you to jump you would ask “how high?” and he took advantage of that at every turn.

There’s a calculative pause, “Have you touched yourself?” You tried but failed miserably. Mark had ruined any type of sexual experience that didn’t include him. “I-I tried, but it’s not the same without you.” You could practically hear the cocky smirk that spreads his plush lips.

Just the thought of those lips sliding across your skin makes you shudder. “Can you help me… over the phone I mean.” The two of you never had phone sex before, but you were so desperate you would take anything you could get. For a moment you think you asked for too much. Mark was at work for fuck’s sake, but that never stopped you before.

“I want you to rub your clit under your pretty panties.” Excitement flows through you. You were all too eager to oblige. Quickly putting the phone on speaker, you almost throw it on the pillow next to you. With your newly freed hand, you do just as he demanded.

“Press harder. Imagine it’s my fingers sliding against your wet cunt.” The vulgarity of his words only increases your pleasure. Moaning, you lay your head back and close your eyes. Hearing Mark’s voice made the fantasy feel so real. “Tell me what you were thinking about.” His authoritative tone saved for the field and rough nights in your shared bedroom left no room for argument.

As you speak, sharp breaths and moans break up your sentence, “I-I was thi-thinking about going over the-there and having you fu-ck, oh God, me on your desk.” A noise that can only be described as a growl tickles your ear. “You like when I bend you over like a bitch in heat don’t you?”

You cry out a confirming “yes” as the pressure of your touch and his words build your pleasure. You stroke yourself in hard fast circles; just the way Mark did when he was preparing you for his thick cock. No matter how many times you had sex, he still managed to stretch you incredibly.

“Last time I fucked you in my office your tight cunt squeezed me in a vice. My little slut loves to try and get me in trouble.” Your response is a breathy moan. Something about such a dirty nickname set your body on fire. Mark fueled your insatiable lust.

It was a power move for him. Mark gave you just enough of himself to make you crave him, but not enough to ever fully satisfy your hunger. He would ensure sure you always needed him and relied on him.

When you let out a high-pitched whimper a dark chuckle follows soon after. “Oh, you are such a slut.” You clutch around nothing, the emptiness frustrating you. Almost like he could read your mind Mark commands, “Fuck yourself on two of your fingers. Nice and slow, let me hear you.”

Bringing the phone closer you let your fingers slide down your cleft before sinking the two digits inside. Although they weren’t nearly as thick as Mark’s your imagination convinced you as much. “Feel how soft and tight you are? Imagine my hard cock buried deep inside you.”

You let out a flustered moan. “God! I can practically feel you.” Your walls trembled around your ministrations. The image of Mark caging you underneath him, fucking into you with reckless abandon alone could have made you come.

For a moment it almost felt like too much. The torture of having Mark with you, but not physically was killing you. Incoherent noises spill from your lips as you’re met with the sound of Mark’s heavy breaths. “Put a third finger in and pump hard and fast. Take it all like the good slut you are.”

The additional stretch would have hurt if your core wasn’t so slick. Mark had a way of making you melt into a puddle. With that in mind, you still cry out at the full sensation. A light mix of pain and pleasure; aka what Mark strove for.

“Do you want to come?”

“Y-Yes! Please, Mark-“

“What the fuck did you call me?” The gruffness in his voice makes you swallow thickly. Your desperate need to climax made you forget Mark’s preferred name during heated moments like these. “Please daddy. I ne-need it.”

Squelching noises emanated from your wet core. The speed you fucked yourself at was almost punishing. Beads of sweat rolled down your temple; every part of your body was on fire. The only thing that stood between you from reaching your orgasm were four little words.

“Come for me, baby.” With that simple command, you cry out in ecstasy. Your hips buck onto your fingers while you try to ride out your pleasure. Mark continued to praise you in his low, husky voice. Pushing your head back into the pillow you let yourself collapse into the mattress.

Heavy breaths are sent on either side of the connection. How Mark had the restraint to not touch himself baffled you. Your positive that his hard cock was straining against his slacks at this exact moment. What was in store for you later tantalized you even through your post-orgasmic haze.

You finally manage to clear your throat to find your words. “Thank you, Mark. Sorry I interrupted your work. I missed you.” You almost cringed at how needy you sounded.

You can hear Mark shuffle with the fabric of his clothes. He was most liking trying to make himself semi-presentable again. God the amount of money you would pay to get even a glance of him. “I told you if you needed anything to call me. Day or night.” Mark’s voice takes on a teasing note, “That includes sexual frustration.”

Mark did say that, and it only made you fall even deeper for him. Never did a person make you feel so important and wanted. People could say what they wanted about the Detective because at the end of the day he took great care of you despite his limited time.

“Thank you still. An orgasm is a great sleeping remedy. You never leave me deprived that’s for sure.” You smile at the memories of all the times Mark took time out of his day to interact with you. Especially the one that started this call in the first place. Office desk sex was your guiltiest pleasure.

“Be a good girl and go to bed.” You unconsciously agree with him when you yawn. “Goodnight Mark.” At that you end the call promptly, not wanting to distract him further.

Although you didn’t exchange “I love you”, actions spoke louder than words. In your heart you knew Mark would do anything for you; kill for you even. The extent of which was more sincere than just a declaration of loyalty.

Satiated in your orgasm and much-needed attention from your boyfriend Mark you snuggle back into bed. Not long after you fall into blissful sleep.

In the morning you were roused from your slumber by rough hands gliding across your body and something hard pressing against your back. Mark Hoffman had you not only wrapped but entwined around his finger.

Any and all interactions are greatly appreciated.