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burntoutdaydreamer · 11 months

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Weird Brain Hacks That Help Me Write

I'm a consistently inconsistent writer/aspiring novelist, member of the burnt-out-gifted-kid-to-adult-ADHD-diagnosis-pipeline, recently unemployed overachiever, and person who's sick of hearing the conventional neurotypical advice to dealing with writer's block (i.e. "write every single day," or "there's no such thing as writer's block- if you're struggling to write, just write" Like F*CK THAT. Thank you, Brenda, why don't you go and tell someone with diabetes to just start producing more insulin?)

I've yet to get to a point in my life where I'm able to consistently write at the pace I want to, but I've come a long way from where I was a few years ago. In the past five years I've written two drafts of a 130,000 word fantasy novel (currently working on the third) and I'm about 50,000 words in on the sequel. I've hit a bit of a snag recently, but now that I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, I'm hoping to revamp things and return to the basics that have gotten me to this point and I thought I might share.

1) My first draft stays between me and God

I find that I and a lot of other writers unfortunately have gotten it into our heads that first drafts are supposed to resemble the finished product and that revisions are only for fixing minor mistakes. Therefore, if our first draft sucks that must mean we suck as writers and having to rewrite things from scratch means that means our first draft is a failure.

I'm here to say that is one of the most detrimental mentalities you can have as a writer.

Ever try drawing a circle? You know how when you try to free-hand draw a perfect circle in one go, it never turns out right? Whereas if you scribble, say, ten circles on top of one another really quickly and then erase the messy lines until it looks like you drew a circle with a singular line, it ends up looking pretty decent?

Yeah. That's what the drafting process is.

Your first draft is supposed to suck. I don't care who you are, but you're never going to write a perfect first draft, especially if you're inexperienced. The purpose of the first draft is to lay down a semi-workable foundation. A really loose, messy sketch if you will. Get it all down on paper, even if it turns out to be the most cliche, cringe-inducing writing you've ever done. You can work out those kinks in the later drafts. The hardest part of the first draft is the most crucial part: getting started. Don't stress yourself out and make it even harder than it already is.

If that means making a promise to yourself that no one other than you will ever read your first draft unless it's over your cold, dead body, so be it.

2) Tell perfectionism to screw off by writing with a pen

I used to exclusively write with pencil until I realized I was spending more time erasing instead of writing.

Writing with a pen keeps me from editing while I right. Like, sometimes I'll have to cross something out or make notes in the margins, but unlike erasing and rewriting, this leaves the page looking like a disaster zone and that's a good thing.

If my writing looks like a complete mess on paper, that helps me move past the perfectionist paralysis and just focus on getting words down on the page. Somehow seeing a page full of chicken scratch makes me less worried about making my writing all perfect and pretty- and that helps me get on with my main goal of fleshing out ideas and getting words on a page.

3) It's okay to leave things blank when you can't think of the right word

My writing, especially my first draft, is often filled with ___ and .... and (insert name here) and red text that reads like stage directions because I can't think of what is supposed to go there or the correct way to write it.

I found it helps to treat my writing like I do multiple choice tests. Can't think of the right answer? Just skip it. Circle it, come back to it later, but don't let one tricky question stall you to the point where you run out of brain power or run out of time to answer the other questions.

If I'm on a role, I'm not gonna waste it by trying to remember that exact word that I need or figure out the right transition into the next scene or paragraph. I'm just going to leave it blank, mark to myself that I'll need to fix the problem later, and move on.

Trust me. This helps me sooooo much with staying on a roll.

4) Write Out of Order

This may not be for everyone, but it works wonders for me.

Sure, the story your writing may need to progress chronologically, but does that mean you need to write it chronologically? No. It just needs to be written.

I generally don't do this as much for editing, but for writing, so long as you're making progress, it doesn't matter if it's in the right order. Can't think of how to structure Chapter 2, but you have a pretty good idea of how your story's going to end? Write the ending then. You'll have to go back and write Chapter 2 eventually, but if you're feeling more motivated to write a completely different part of the book, who's to say you can't do that?

When I'm working on a project, I start off with a single document that I title "Scrap for (Project Title)" and then just write whatever comes to mind, in whatever order. Once I've gotten enough to work with, then I start outlining my plot and predicting how many chapters I'm going to need. Then, I create separate google docs for each individual chapter and work on them in whatever order I feel like, often leaving several partially complete as I jump from one to the other. Then, as each one gets finished, I copy and paste the chapter into the full manuscript document. This means that the official "draft" could have Chapters 1 and 9, but completely be missing Chapters 2-8, and that's fine. It's not like anyone will ever know once I finish it.

Sorry for the absurdly long post. Hopes this helps someone. Maybe I'll share more tricks in the future.

#writing #creative writing #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writing tips #writing advice #writers block #novel writing #fiction writing #writer #writers of tumblr

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blkkizzat · 11 months

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ღ𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟!𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 ღ

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟐

18+ONLY MDNI

kizzatober series: Thrilling Ghouls

Kinktober Prompts: Breeding, Dacryphilia, Aphrodisiac Synopsis: Catching him in a lie, you suspect your boyfriend Toji is cheating on you. Where does he keep disappearing to once a month that keeps him away for often days at a time. You're fed up. You've made up your mind this time to follow him but are you ready for what you discover? CW: AU. Most warnings for P2 really. Slightly dubcon-y. Bully/mean/teasing Toji. Bratty/crazy gf reader. Rough sex. Drug ref. Werewolf transformation but this isn't that furry shit lol. Omegaverse themes I borrow heavily from but I'm not following the rules of it faithfully (I don't even know them myself lol) WC: 4k of 10.4k Lightly black fem coded but no descriptors.

A/N: This one took a bit longer expected as I recently caught a cold, boooo! But I'm realizing even in my fics I intend to be PWPs I still need to set the mood and a plot springs forth lmfao. Plus I had fun actually trying to write a bit of horror in too! I decided to split into 2 parts because of the delay already.

Big shout out to an irl bestie @sairotonin for drawing a sketch of Werewolf!Toji for her inktober for me to use in my gfx. TY sis you a real one!!

Enjoy!

“In the next 500ft, turn left.”

This was going to be the third goddamn left the car navigation told you to take in the last 20 minutes. You were ninety-nine percent sure you had been going in circles and were now lost as shit at night in the middle of nowhere.

You glance at your phone sitting in the dash-caddy.

One measly bar.

The further you traveled, the more the service bars were dwindling as well.

Shit, you had 3 full bars last time you looked.

Opting to keep ahead straight instead of turning, you cross-check your destination via the spy monitoring app you had shamelessly downloaded on your boyfriend Toji’s phone.

Toji’s current location was 45 miles outside of the city and it had been a good 10 miles since you last saw any kind of highway. The area you were in was a mix between nature reserve and private property so not even GPS could pin down the exact directions to his whereabouts.

Sigh.

You had never wanted to be That Girl™.

You know, the ones who would sneak peaks at their boyfriend’s phones, were super insecure about any interaction their man had with the opposite sex and ran down on them while they were out to catch them in the act of cheating.

But you were a woman at the end of her rope.

What else could you do?

For a few days every month Toji would simply disappear.

The various excuses he gave usually centered around his work. You didn’t know exactly what he did, but you knew enough to know most of it was dangerous and wasn’t what good society would consider legal.

Toji had scolded you before for asking too many details.

For your own safety.

He would say with an arrogant smirk.

But even when working you had always been able to get a hold of him after a few hours. It was just this one particular job he would completely drop off the face of the earth for. It annoyed you, sure, but Toij’s work never followed him home so you didn't have complaints.

That is, until you had finally moved-in with him and Megumi.

Truly, you were already like a little family.

Megumi, who had just recently started preschool, had been quick to warm up to you ever since you and Toji first introduced you to him a few months prior to that.

But living together pushed things to a whole other level. Megumi would follow you around like a lost pup and often opted to sit in your lap rather than Toji’s.

Not to mention throw a near fit if you weren’t the one to tuck him in goodnight. (Toji would never admit he was a bit jealous and would only grumble slightly that it was less of a hassle for him if you did it so you should just do it from now on).

You never even realized you had such a mothering instinct, being on the same page as Toji about no more kids, until you looked into those little emerald eyes of Gumi’s and absolutely melted.

You had grown so close that the little boy unknowingly let it slip once while Toji was MIA on that job, that he was glad Daddy went on his daddy breaks once a month so you both could have fun together by yourselves.

You tried to keep your reactions in check for Megumi but that revelation completely shook you.

A “daddy break” didn’t sound much like a work trip to you which spiked your anxiety and caused you to spiral into overthinking.

Did he need a break from you too as well?

You couldn't very well grill a 4-year old and you didn’t have the nerve to just ask Toji straight out.

So you did the only thing you could think of at the time and that was to complain to your good friend Tsukumo over drinks a few days later after Toji returned.

Tsukumo, who always seemed to have the wrong answer for everything, simply told you to do the ‘smart’ thing and download a monitoring app on his phone that would log is calls, texts and whereabouts.

You initially balked at her.

Tracking Toji had never crossed your mind.

Outside of this, Toji had never given you a reason to doubt him and you wanted to respect his privacy and trust, especially trust as you knew he didn’t let many people get close to him at all.

True, he wasn’t exactly the most forthcoming man you ever dated. You were well aware he had his many skeletons as well as ex-hookups. But Toji for the most part had been content with his gambling then coming home to you and Megumi.

He wasn’t the type to ‘run the streets with the boys (he had no boys tbh), you had only ever known him to have the occasional drink with Shiu when he wasn’t out gambling.

You had almost refused to do such a thing… That is until Tsukumo posed the question:

What’s more important Y/N– your peace of mind or his trust?

And Y/N, is trust really what’s important here at all if he is in fact already taking advantage of yours?

Touché.

Tsukumo had you there.

“Besides, you think that old dinosaur is even going to notice an extra app on his phone in the first place?”

Tsukumo quipped, throwing back a shot of sake and jiggling the empty container at the bartender for more.

“You just got rid of his old flip phone last year. I’m surprised he can even use a touchscreen without punching a hole through it. Just delete the app once you’ve seen what you needed to see.”

Tsukumo gave you this advice like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Ignoring her digs at Toji’s age, and maybe it was the 3 bottles of sake the both of you had blown through in the last hour, but you were starting to think she might be onto something.

“Mmm, on second thought, might as well keep it on there. Men like Fushiguro are dogs that need to be kept on tight leashes.”

Tsukumo grinned at you with a wink before turning her attention back to the bartender.

You still didn’t know then if you would actually go through with it.

Nevertheless, here you are now at 11:15 PM at night about to pull up on your boyfriend thanks to Tsukumo’s advice to find out once and for all if Toji was cheating on you.

You had dropped Megumi off at his best friend Yuji’s for the night, thanking Yuji’s parents for watching him and feeling guilty for lying to them that you and Toji had a date night.

Almost there.

You are within 2 miles of arriving at the vicinity of where the monitoring app says Toji is.

However, your anxieties were getting the best of you as you drove in near tears.

You turn up your music louder, the booming bass distracting you from how much darker and creepier it gets the further you drive into the wooded area.

Sighing again, you had no idea how this would turn out but you knew the result would determine whether you would be listening to Positions by Ariana Grande or Playing Games by Summer Walker on repeat during the drive back.

☠

Barely a half mile later, you see the engine light of your car flash. The pungent odor of burning oil fills the car as a plume of smoke escapes out from under the hood.

Goddamn it, Toji.

“Y/N, make sure to go get ‘er an oil change while I’m gone. Ya got like 15 good miles left on ‘er.” Toji’s voice rang in your mind.

Well the big lunk he was wrong.

You had driven at least 33 miles so far.

You mentally cussed him again.

Toji was the one who was supposed to change your oil, he used your car more than you did. Only opting to use his own blacked out unplated and unlicensed car for jobs like he was on now.

You wouldn’t have even left the house if it wasn’t for his sketchy cheating headass.

Okay, so you hadn’t exactly confirmed that just yet, but you were pissed and until you confirmed otherwise, right now he was a cheater and everything about this situation was his fault.

Pulling over to the side of the dirt road before you caused further damage to your car, you weighed your options.

Option 1: Call AAA

You had zero bars though.

Fuck.

Option 2: Wait here in the safety of the car until morning.

You would still have zero bars and you might miss Toji, making this whole trip fruitless.

If he beat you home in the morning and found you gone with Megumi at Yuji’s with the sad excuse for a 'date night' lie you gave, you would never hear the end of it.

He would taunt you into oblivion that your silly ass drove all the way up here unto the woods for your car to break down cause you were too busy being a psycho bitch to remember to get an oil change.

Option 3: Walk on foot the rest of the way to Toji.

Really the only viable option you had.

It was a good 12 miles or so back to the highway, you didn’t know how many turns you had made since then and you doubt you could make it back on foot anyway. If you were going to walk a few miles to get service again you might as well walk to where Toji was.

Sure if he wasn’t cheating you would still get ridiculed, but at least you could get a ride home.

And if he was cheating, you would hot wire his car (one of the few useful things he did teach you) and that motherfucker and his whore could find their own way home.

Resolving yourself to walk, you put on Toji's hoodie that fortunately was still in the backseat from him last using your car to go to the gym.

You really should have put more thought into planning this before you left. Besides Toji’s oversized worn hoodie that reached your mid-thighs all you were wearing was a thin white shirt and black spandex shorts.

You didn’t even have sneakers or boots, as you looked down at your fuzzy black slippers you mostly only wore outside to run short errands like dropping off Megumi at preschool or picking up groceries.

Thankfully, you did have a small flashlight in the glove compartment though in case of emergencies like this.

Flashlight in tow, you step outside of your stalled car and immediately suck in a worried breath as the weight of the chilly night settles over you like a heavy cloak.

You only have a mile and a half trek but the dirt road that stretches out before you looks endless as it disappears into the obscurity of the thick shroud of fog surrounding you.

The flashlight doesn’t do much to cut through the intense density of condensation. You had only made it a mere 20 feet from your car but you can just barely make out its faint outline.

Swallowing, you put on your bravest face and fix your gaze forward.

The reflections of your flashlight casts shifty patterns on the mist in your peripheral vision and you do your best to ignore the chill that creeps up your shoulders.

“Fuck you, Toji.”

You mumble half-heartedly, pulling the hood over head.

You didn’t really mean it though. Would-be-cheater or not more than anything you wished he was here with you now.

You were freezing, tired and all you could think about was how warm and safe you would feel in Toji’s arms. Even if you were mad at him.

You pick up the pace, wanting to get to him sooner.

Almost more unnerving than the fog itself, the forest around you is as quiet as a grave.

There are no chirps of crickets, nor hoots of owls.

Not even in the crisp cold of fall does the wind rustle through the trees, everything is silent.

The haunting nature around you seems to hold its breath as if it knows you're an unwelcome intruder who has trespassed too far.

You don’t dare peer into the trees which look taller in the darkness, closing in tightly on the dirt road. They are ghastly silhouettes of their former selves blocking any moonlight to help guide your way.

You shiver as you feel as if you are being watched from a distance.

The only noise you hear is the soft crunching of rocks and leaves beneath your feet with every unsure step you take forward.

You can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of dread as a stray tear runs down your cheek.

You couldn’t get to Toji soon enough.

Though you still didn’t have any service the GPS updated as much as it could in roaming, you were so close.

As you continue forward a shadow on the path catches your eye in the foggy distance.

Your heart quickens as you inch closer, your anticipation mingling with fear.

Shapes soon begin to take form and the harsh reality dawns upon you.

A pack of wolves.

Their shadowy figures coalesce before you through the fog as they take stock of you.

You start to feel queasy as you see their red-stained muzzles dripping with the blood of their latest kill. The grotesque carcass of a deer practically stripped to the bone lay lifeless under their enormous paws.

Their eyes, fierce and predatory, meet yours with a chilling intensity as the feeble beam of your flashlight washes over them. The deer, although large, you know is not enough to quell hunger from beasts of their size.

With a shaky breath you slowly retreat, not wanting to further agitate their already aggravated predatory senses.

Then you hear it.

From what seems to be the darkest reaches of the night, a sound reverberates from the trees, through the forest and beyond that's unlike anything you've ever heard before.

The howl that tears through the stillness is so chilling you instantly feel the lamentation that carries the weight of centuries of primal power down in the very marrow of your bones.

Even the wolves snap their heads to attention and bow their heads as if the sound announced the presence of a creature much higher on the food chain... something more ancient and malevolent…

...something terrifyingly unhuman.

The body racking shiver you experience is so intense it has you sprinting at full speed before your mind, frozen from fear, can even process you are moving.

You burst through the dense trees, leaving the road as your heart pounds like a drum in your chest and tears stream freely down your cheeks to soak the edge of Toji’s sweatshirt.

The tangled underbrush of the forest whips the soft skin of your legs and the forest itself seems to conspire against you as you navigate the obstacle course of branches, logs and large rocks all seemingly with a mission to slow you down.

You can hear the chilling howls of the wolves you saw on the road call out behind you, giving chase.

The sounds of their footfalls grow closer with every passing second.

Terrifying as they are, they hold no candle against the howl that sent you running and your body continues to propel you forward.

Panic frazzles your senses and you make the tragic error of trying to steal a glance back behind you before directly colliding with a large cedar.

Groaning from the impact you reel as you try to gather yourself, clinging to the tree for support.

You hear a twig snap behind you and you whirl around as you are faced with a largest gray wolf out of the pack who had been chasing you.

The alpha wolf’s teeth glint menacingly as their breath escapes in visible puffs in the frigid night air.

Too late to try to make a run for it again, you whimper as you resign yourself to your fate. You slid down the large tree to bury your face in your knees.

Was this it?

Was this how you died?

You weren’t even able to see Toji after coming all this way.

You also wanted to be able to hug Megumi one last time and maybe knock the daylights out of Tsukumo for her horrible ass idea.

But ultimately this was all your fault.

You could be snuggled up with Gumi on the sofa with snacks watching Anpanman but your dumbass had to go galavanting off into the middle of the woods like a fucking lunatic and now you’re about to be eaten by a wolf.

You could feel the wolf’s overbearing presence as it approached you but you couldn’t bear to look up. You’d rather spend your final moments thinking of Toji and Megumi.

Yet despite your impending doom, your head did snap up once you felt a rough tongue gently lick your ankles and curiously sniff at the ends of Toji's hoodie covering your legs.

The wolf was more than intimidating up close as its giant muzzle was the size of your entire head.

However the wolf regarded you cautiously like it almost recognized you before releasing its own chillingly deep howl and promptly running off.

Wait– T-The hell?!

You sat there at the trunk of the tree trying to process the interaction that just took place but you didn’t have much time to ponder as you heard something else approaching you rapidly.

The sound of snapping twigs and heavy, uneven footfalls don’t seem to be that of a wolf, renewing the sensation of dread through your body.

Your heart races in your chest as the ominous sounds of the being looming evermore closer become more pronounced.

From the shadows emerges a monstrous figure.

The fog doesn’t reach this deep into the forest and the moonlight that peeks between the trees glimmers on its enlarged taut muscles.

Its eyes, red, burn like fiery amber.

Fierce and resolute you can see them pierce through the darkness long before you can make out any features of the creature's face.

What you think upon first glance must be a demonic apparition from your worst nightmares ends up being–

Toji?!

As he steps into a beam of moonlight, the transformation before you is complete.

Toji’s once-human and feet hands have become formidable claws with nails like blades, his face remains mostly unchanged with the exception of his mouth which in his snarl reveals rows of gleaming, razor-sharp teeth.

He is still mostly human in appearance but you can tell he stands taller, nearly 8 feet.

The thicker body hair on his forearms bristles with raw power.

He was completely bare save for the tattered jeans barely hanging on his body that had torn from the sheer size of his enormous muscularity in this form.

Each step he takes towards you makes your heart skip a beat yet you stare transfixed, unable to look away and your tears increase.

Was this terrifying otherworldly apparition the boyfriend you had been searching for?

Time stands still in that haunting moment as Toji’s eyes bore into your soul with a predatory intensity.

His hunger and primal instincts radiates off of him like a palpable force.

“T-T-Toji?”

You cautiously inquire through your quiet sobs.

“Y/N?! What the fuck do you think y’er doing out here?”

Toji snarls back at you. His growl seems to cause the very atmosphere to vibrate and the earth beneath you quakes as your body involuntarily quivered with fear.

Toji thought he must have been losing his goddamn mind when he caught onto your scent earlier but here you were like a lost little lamb to the slaughter before him.

He came out onto the woods to be alone, away from civilization and away from you and Megumi during his monthly transformations.

It was safer that way, for all of you.

You had been fortunate the local wolf pack had acknowledged him as their Alpha and recognized his scent on you.

But there were far worse dangers in the forest besides them.

Toji wouldn’t be able to protect you like he was now.

Not with you needing protection from him too.

Protection from him as not only was it a full moon, it was a harvest moon, a mating moon.

The primal urge to rip you apart was only truncated by the more intense carnal urge to mate with you. Toji wanted to claim you as his and fuck you so hard into the girthy cedar behind you the entire tree would topple over by its roots.

He had wanted to claim you as his mate for a while now.

Even moved you in with him and Megumi as the final step but you couldn’t wait for that, could you?

You had managed to track him somehow all the way out here and throw his whole plan into the shitter.

He could barely control himself in this form as it is and now your scent, blubbering cries and the fucking harvest moon were sending him with full force into a fierce rut.

“T-Toji w-what is this!? W-what’s happened to you!? W-what are you doing out here?!”

Worry saturates your voice as you choke out your questions in rapid fire cries not giving him time to even respond.

Toji fights the predatory instinct in him who sees you as his prey and if your gaze wasn’t so focused on trying to read his face for answers you surely would have noticed him fully bricked near bursting out of his worn jeans.

You looked so appetizing.

He needed you.

However, Toji could tell your nerves were completely shot and the slightest twitch of his muscles toward you had you almost jumping out of your skin like a little bunny rabbit.

“Y-Y/N…”

His voice strained itself into a murmur as he attempted to do his best to lull you into some sort of security so he could explain things calmly to you.

Yet the way he was near salivating, drool dripping from his canines as he panted and towered over you did anything but make you feel secure.

You mistook his lust for bloodthirstiness.

“Just calm down. It’s OK.”

Toji needed you to be calm like he needed you to take steadier breaths if he was going to successfully win the tumultuous war he was fighting against his instincts to pounce on you.

There is an oppressive tension between the two of you and he can tell you are also fighting against your fight or flight reflexes.

Good girl.

It would be disastrous if you did something foolish, no telling what might happen then.

But unfortunately for the both of you, your fits of emotion and impulses are what had your crazy ass out here in the first place.

The pressure had officially gotten to you.

Toji’s lies, your car, the woods, the wolves, everything leading up to this point bubbled over because the last thing you wanted to be told right now was to ‘just calm down’.

You snapped.

“Ok? OK?! OKAY?!...TOJI WHAT THE FUCK ABOUT THIS IS O.K. RIGHT NOW!?”

You were practically hysterical as you yelled at him, momentarily forgetting your fears of Toji’s new form.

The trigger of being told to 'calm down' in a situation where you clearly had every right to feel every fucking emotion you wanted won out over everything else.

“MY CAR BROKE DOWN BECAUSE OF YOU DOING GOD KNOWS WHAT WITH WHOEVER THE FUCK OUT HERE, I LITERALLY WAS JUST CHASED BY WOLVES, ALMOST EATEN, AND Y-YOU… Y-YOU-”

A crackling snap came from above you and you realized Toji’s claws had completely ripped a large chunk out of the tree right above your head.

Your tantrum had in turn pushed him over the edge as well.

His irises flared intensely at you as you quivered under his gaze in fear.

He would have you but first, he would play with you a bit.

Things never happened the easy way with you.

Yet, that’s also exactly the way Toji liked it too. That's why he'd put up with you thus far.

A malevolent smirk dons Toji's features as his simple command issues an unsettling tremor running down into the depths of your being.

“Run.”

P2 HERE!

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ

A/N: Count on Tsukumo to always given the wrong fuckin’ advice. Lmfao! Or was it the right advice in this case? Hmm we will see what happens next!

Smutty goodness in the next part. This part was just to set the horror mood!

I promise this fic isn't as nearly as long as Ghostface!Choso. It's looking to be about 8k total and I have 3.5k of P2 finished lol.

Reblog if you are both submissive and breedable for Werewolf!Toji, but likes and comments are appreciated all the same!

ღTaglistღ:

@callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @briefrebelfanalmond @nikkitc0703 & @dancingwithdeities (prone bone coming in p2 just for u sweets!) LMK below if you would like to be tagged in P2. For all kizzatober fic tags comment on m.list.

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nana-b0b · 6 months

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And we have a cover, something quite simple to what I had in mind at first but I think this one fits much better with the concept I was looking for.

RAN… What is Ran? It means "orchid" in Japanese and it's the name I decided to give to this graphic novel, or whatever you want to call it.

The truth is that this project didn't even cross my mind, it was a complete improvisation on my part that was born with a vague sketch of Sukuna sitting and with the days, for some reason, I made another one where he is together with Aurora (OC) fighting because she didn't want to get dressed haha and the thing really got out of hand!!! I couldn't stop thinking about that drawing and a whole new narrative line for my OC and well, let's get to work! ❤

Ran is a short graphic novel of no more than three or four pages that I plan to publish weekly (or when my time adjusts) that tells the temporal space that Aurora (OC) is currently living, a kind of abduction that confined her to a domain that she cannot break and where only the king's will is done (or that is what he expects).

This novel is thought in non-linear time (it has no exact chronology, they are situations that I draw here, which happen in Aurora's day to day life in there where she does not know how fast time passes both inside and outside the domain). We will also venture on journeys into her past and learn more about her turbulent clan and her mysterious ancestor.

Inspired by the Heian period of Japan with erotic and fantastic overtones the idea of the sketches is to show that sensual and indomitable side of Aurora, how dare she take it against him?

❤This novel contains 18+ so be warned, please take your precautions.

Come sit down for a while and enjoy these graphic pieces as much as I enjoy doing them, and let's get to know this side of the garden.

List of cap (here you will find a link to them): RAN

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

Note from Nana: These are my other networks! Here you can find more of my content!

IG:

https://www.instagram.com/nana_bloog?igsh=MmRjaGt4ZjE5ODRm

#sketch #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #oc art #jujutsu fanart #jjk oc #art #fanart #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #ransketch

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writerslittlelibrary · 1 year

Text

Were you expecting someone?

masterlist

summary: thinking it’s a day like any other, you simply busy yourself with some homework and your hobbies, until there’s suddenly a gun pointed at your head

pairing: Natasha x daughter reader, Yelena x niece reader, Melina & Alexei x granddaughter reader

warnings: a gun?

genre: fluff

words: 1265

a/n: I thought there should be way more content about the Widow family. I love to see more of the concept of Melina and Alexei with a grandchild

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

When you woke up this morning, you were not expecting the situation you were currently in. Because you were wearing your headphones, you had not heard anyone enter the house. Your mom told you she would be gone until late afternoon, and while you were busying yourself with some drawings, you had completely forgotten the time.

Not that it mattered, really. Usually, when your mom comes home she’d always let you know, whether she’d send you a text or simply come into your room and say hi.

This situation however, was slightly different. One moment you were peacefully sketching some ideas you were working on, and the next moment you could feel the cold metal of a gun pressed against your temple. You slowly looked up from your sketchbook, not making any sudden movements.

You thought the woman in the room was simply another Widow from the Red Room, sent to assassinate you. You’d been dealing with those ever since you escaped two years ago.

When you didn’t feel the woman relax her grip on the gun, nor feeling a bullet piercing your skull, you decided to handle the situation yourself. You turned around swiftly, grabbing the gun and pulling it towards yourself, managing to yank the woman forward and knee her in the gut. You pushed her to the side, holding the gun tightly as she let it go in surprise.

She made a move quickly, hitting you across the face. You replied by swiping her legs from under her, letting her fall to the ground as you ran out the room.

You made a run to the stairs, moving to get down as fast as possible. When you did, you saw two other people standing in the living room. It was a man and a younger woman. She couldn’t have been older than 25.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you made a move to run to the front door. You could hear the woman from upstairs making her way down as well. Once you reached the door however, it opened, revealing your mom standing in the doorway holding some groceries.

She smiled at you, then frowned when she saw blood on your face.

“We have to go,” you said quickly, grabbing her hand and trying to run away. She however, didn’t move. You turned around to see her stifling a laugh.

“Were you expecting someone?” you asked her, letting go of her hand and looking at her. “I’m sorry,” she just told you, letting a laugh escape.

She grabbed your arm and dragged you into the living room, setting her bags down before pushing you onto a chair, making a move to grab the first aid kit. “Natasha, Who is that?” you heard the woman from before ask in a strong Russian accent. “I should have warned you,” she said, sitting next to you and carefully cleaning up the blood from your face.

“Yeah, you really should have,” you told, wincing slightly when she pressed the alcohol cloth onto the wound.

“I’m not too pleased you injured her though,” Natasha told the woman. “She attacked first,” the woman replied. You frowned and looked at the woman. “You held a gun to my head!” you told her. The younger woman grinned, clearly finding the situation amusing.

“Y/N, meet my family, guys, meet my daughter,” Natasha said, putting a band-aid on your forehead before cleaning up the things she used, stashing the first aid kit back into the cupboard it came from.

“How?” the younger woman simply asked, sitting down on the other side of you. “Dreykov created her using my eggs after I was sterilized. I didn’t know about her until two years ago,” Natasha explained, grabbing you a glass of water to help with the headache she knew was going to form.

You thanked her for the water and looked at the other two people standing in the room. They hadn’t made a move to sit down yet.

“Y/N, meet Melina, Alexei and Yelena,” Natasha introduced, motioning to the person she meant when she said their name. “Yelena’s my sister-” “And now an aunt too,” Yelena interrupted, also having a heavy Russian accent. She seemed ecstatic by that fact. You smiled at her and simply drank some of your water. “Are you going to stand and glare or…” you said slowly, referring to Melina and Alexei.

Slowly they sat down. The moment they did, Alexei smiled. “Welcome to the family!” he said excitedly, motioning his hands up a little.

Melina now smiled too, getting up and moving towards the fridge. “We need to celebrate,” she simply said as she opened it and reached for a bottle of vodka. She opened some cupboards until she found the one holding the glasses, and grabbed some shot glasses.

She put them on the table and filled them. There were five of them, but you decided not too say anything. Natasha would never let you drink it anyway.

Melina put a glass in front of everyone, you included.

She lifted her glass, as if to make a little toast. “Welcome to the family,” she said as she drank the vodka. Yelena and Alexei did the same, while you just looked at Natasha and smiled awkwardly.

She returned your smile, grabbing her own shot of vodka and drinking it. You didn’t touch yours. “You are not drinking?” Melina asked, stating the obvious. You smiled at her and shook your head. “I’m 16,” you told her, and Melina frowned.

“So?”

“We’re in the United States… It's illegal here. Besides, it's like three pm…” you told her, glancing at the clock. “It is always good time for a drink,” Melina simply replied, pouring herself another glass. You smiled and grabbed your water, finishing the glass. Of course you drank vodka before. You were a Russian after all, but your mother didn’t need to know that.

After Yelena swiped your glass and drank it herself, you turned to your mother. “Can I go now?” you asked, wanting to get out of the awkward family get together.

Natasha smiled and nodded. You got up from your chair and made your way upstairs, immediately jumping onto your bed and grabbing your phone, wanting to tell Wanda everything that just happened.

You talked with Wanda on the phone for a while, explaining how Melina had you at gunpoint and about how bad you felt you threw her on the ground. Wanda laughed at certain things you told her, feeling as though it was a situation you could both laugh about, and you didn’t actually feel bad about something. You two talked for a few hours, simply enjoying hearing the other talk. Then Wanda had to go, saying her dinner she ordered had arrived.

A few minutes after hanging up the phone, you heard a knock on your door. When it opened Yelena walked inside.

“So this is your room huh?” Yelena said as she looked around your room, picking up some stuff and flipping through your sketchbook. “Cool,” she said, sitting down on your desk chair. “Natasha told me to come get you because the food is here.”

“Thanks,” you told her, rolling from the middle of the bed to the side, so you could plug your phone into its charger and get up.

“I think we’ll be good friends,” Yelena said, getting up herself and exiting your room, followed by you. You smiled. This definitely wasn’t how you expected meeting Natasha’s family, had you known about them, but you couldn’t deny you were excited to get to know them better.

#black widow #blackhill #marvel #mcu #natasha x reader #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova #yelena x reader platonic #widow sisters #natasha romanoff #melina vostokoff #alexei shostakov #widow family #young avengers #avengers #natasha romanoff x reader platonic #natasha romanoff x daughter #natasha x daughter #natasha x daughter!reader

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stariikis · 4 months

Text

colour your smile

synopsis ; when riki picks up a paintbrush, two problems surface. for him, it's fear of being unable to portray you perfectly. for you, you have no idea how to counter this fear of his. this fear that is a constant state of unrest in his mind.

pairing ; artist!nishimura riki x muse!reader genre ; fluff, established rs wc ; 1097 warnings ; kissing and implied mental disorders

It’s pretty difficult for Riki to encapsulate all your beauty into a painting.

He’s tried, time and time again. Sat you down in his allocated ‘art studio’ room, a tiny part of the house where the grey walls are splotched rainbow. Watercolour palettes lie uncovered all over the room, one sitting just beside your boyfriend on the wooden bench he’s parked himself on.

In front of him is a blank canvas – tainted only by the strokes of graphite that sketch the outlines of your features. Wispy hair that partially covers your eyes, your button nose quickly drawn into a nub, and your smile accurately depicted, eager and wide. Riki captures the very essence of who you are, with little effort at all.

It doesn’t look difficult to you, because he makes it look effortless. Like with one snap of his fingers, he can churn out another portrait of you. But it really seems like he does. To Riki, however, it’s not so easy. He tilts and turns his head, muttering dissatisfied remarks to himself. More often than not, he spends more than an hour sketching you and touching up ‘mistakes’. ‘Mistakes’ that you never even saw. ‘Mistakes’ that look like nothing in your eyes, but make all the difference to your perfectionist of a boyfriend.

“You know what?” You murmur, slightly tired of having to endure another few hours of him scrutinising your portrait. “Why don’t you just try to paint freely? Without thinking about the quality. Keep your focus on me, paint as if you have nothing to hold you back.”

Riki finally draws his eyes away from the surface of his canvas. He meets your gaze, looking remorseful as he does so. “I wish I could. But then I’d see all the errors and feel guilty. Wouldn’t you?”

You slide closer to him from the opposite side of the wooden bench. You gently tug the paintbrush from his fingers, placing it beside the watercolour set that looks horrifyingly dry and crackled. “Are you scared?”

Deep emotions. You take his hands in your own.

You feel them surging deep inside his veins, the whimsical vibrancy of colour flowing along the current. His imagination is running wild but he’s restricting it himself. Out of fear he’s going to mess up. Afraid it’s going to turn out worse than expected. When he looks away, running a hand through his hair and nodding, you’re hardly surprised.

“Relax.”

You whisper into the silence.

“It’s going to be fine.”

His fingers start to tremble.

“Your beauty is too complex to be depicted in a simple painting,” he finally speaks, inhaling deeply from his own confession. “Everything looks grey — it looks so plain and so boring, and your smile there – so not you. I have to make this you, I have to do you and your beautiful smile justice.”

“One hue off the right colour of your hair already scares me to my depths. Everything is so colourless and bare and empty I can’t even tell these strokes apart.” He runs his fingers along the bumps on the wall, forest green fading into baby blue and a harsh strike of vermillion. “I don’t remember how these came about but I remember they’re strokes of frustration.”

“Frustration?” You urge him, patiently. He’s still distracted, rambling and refusing to meet your eyes. But he’s an artist, and you’ve already resigned to putting up with episodes like these for a while now. At the same time, you understand. In your own way, you are an artist too. The only difference between you and Riki is,

you’re bold and daring. You see all the shades the rainbow has to offer. You complete your pieces without a second thought. Of course, they’re never top quality, but they’re satisfactory to yourself.

Riki is hesitant. He sees in black and white, occasionally shades of grey bleeding into borderline brown. He feels it’s his duty to reflect and duplicate everything about his object perfectly. Like looking into a mirror, it should properly align with reality. It should elicit appropriate emotion. It should reflect all his object’s best qualities. He should be able to make them shine.

And when he doesn’t, he lashes out.

“What if?” He scrunches the apron hanging over his thighs. Lost in thought, you wonder whether he’s coming back down to earth or if his head is still in the clouds. Worrying and worrying and worrying. “What if I can’t do it again?”

“You need to free yourself…”

Ironically, you know what he needs the most to free himself, is a long, warm embrace that calms his mind. Bring him back down. Teach him to breathe again. You lean back to snatch the paintbrush and palette, holding it in front of him. His gaze clears and begins to transfix onto the materials in your hand. “This is what you came to do. Is it not?”

He takes it with a shaky hand and blank stare.

“I think it looks pretty,” you kiss his cheek quickly and slide back into position. “That’s your intention. I know. I look pretty there.”

Your heart aches for him. Will he ever shake off his overbearing perfectionism and learn to enjoy the talents and skills he’s been blessed with?

With adoring eyes, he turns back to the canvas and thankfully begins working on it. You hope the profound sparkle in his eye has signalled a change. Everything falls into routine, and you’re stuck breathing in the same scent of must and dried paint for the next few hours.

Luckily for you, Riki seems to have let the weight evaporate from his shoulders. He can finally take smiley glances your way to compare his portrait and you. He can lean back with a pleased and impressed glimmer in his orbs. Every once in a while, he gives you and kiss and thanks you for staying so still and remaining so patient.

You know his words carry more intent than he wants to let show.

“You like it?”

Three hours later, he finally spins the portrait around and lets you have the first look as the muse. Though many portraits of your face have lined his walls since you started dating, you’re pleasantly surprised to feel something different. Though the paintings may all look similar. Same face. Same eyes, nose, ears, cheeks, hair, moles in the same spots. There’s a hint of confidence emanating from the mish-mash of colours.

And Riki looks satisfied.

“I can finally see the colours,” he rasps in excitement, cutely clapping his hands together. “I could finally colour your smile.”

i just got diagnosed with chronic migraines (i'm having one rn but it's because i'm not sleeping) so this is pretty self-indulgent. i am riki riki is me. ALSO. riki's aotm i'm shitting tears

more of my works >

#stariikis #k labels #enhypen #nishimura riki #enhypen x reader #enhypen riki #nishimura riki x reader #riki x reader #enhypen niki #ni ki #nishimura niki #niki au #niki x reader #niki fanfic #riki x you #riki fanfiction #enhypen ni-ki #riki x y/n

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musings-of-a-college-dork · 7 months

Text

An Odd Request

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Word count: roughly 1K

Steve’s wife goes to the gym and makes an odd request when she arrives home.

Warnings: sorta NSFW (mdni), use of Y/N, terms of endearment (baby).

Author’s note: This is just fluffy Steve and was written directly after I got home from the gym needing this man and a very specific kind of cuddling so…here it is! Short and sweet and very silly. Hope y’all enjoy!

It was a quiet Saturday morning in the Harrington household. Steve was the only one home, having a few hours on his own as Y/N went to meet her personal trainer. She had been seeing a trainer for a while as she, quote on quote, wanted “to be able to carry all the groceries in a single trip all by myself.” A noble and worthy cause in Steve’s eyes and yet as long as he was around, she’d never have to lift a finger. He was more than content to show off his own strength for her enjoyment…and yet wished to support her in any and all of her goals so off to the gym she had gone. As such, he had the home to himself for a few hours, a chance to get some work done.

He had spent most of the morning thus far drinking his coffee and sketching up new basketball drills and formations for the middle school team he coached. He finally understood exactly what Hopper had meant all those years ago about “coffee and contemplation” finding more and more that the man’s wisdom was never ending the older he got. We’ve gotta tighten up their current formations, he thought as the TV played some mindless sitcom in the background while he chewed on the end of his pencil. His mind looked over the squiggles on the paper in front of him trying to decide how to fix this. It had been weeks since they had won a game and morale was dropping fast. Jamie has to pass more but Donovan can’t really shoot…maybe if we move Paul to center and then swap Jordan and Cole we could-

The man wasn’t given another moment to think as he heard the front door open and close with a loud slam, the sound of feet padding their way down the entry hallway.

“Hey, baby!” Steve called as he continued to focus on the squiggles, drawing a few more lines before erasing them with equally as much vigor, “How was the gym?” A loud groan was all he received in reply as his wife dropped her bag to the ground and kicked off her tennis shoes, not even bothering to put them in the basket where she knew they belonged. The same basket she insisted his shoes lived in but rules didn’t apply to her, at least not right now. I’ll tease her about it later. “That good huh?” He called with a low chuckle as he ran a hand through his hair, “Well your protein shake is in the fridge. Should be cold enough since I put it in when you left.” Oddly enough, the man received no response. He waited a moment before he called again, looking up from his work.

“Bab-” And just like that she was in front of him. He jumped and let out a quiet swear as he clutched a hand to his chest. He hadn’t seen her before she had left and found himself taking a sharp inhale as he looked her up and down. She looked so fucking gorgeous in those tight black leggings that fit her just right, a simple white workout top, hugging her every curve, and the expensive black workout jacket he had saved up to get her for Christmas that she never left for the gym without. Not to mention the way her hair looked post-workout and the glow of sweat that radiated off of her. He was about to open his mouth to make some lewd remark he hoped she’d find charming but-

“Hold my tits.” The man blinked once, then again, his mouth open and gaping like a fish.

“W-what?”

“I want your hands on my tits,” Y/N repeated, holding his gaze with complete and utter seriousness, “Please.”

“Like…you want my…”

“Your hands. On my tits. Now.” When the man continued not to move his wife let out a deep sigh and took the pencil from his hand, laying it down next to his sketch as she replaced it with something much better. She led his large palm gently to her breast, letting out a sigh of relief as she encouraged him to give a little squeeze. Again, Steve didn’t even know what to do, never having seen her like this. Sure, she was usually a little more cuddly and blissed out after the gym as the endorphins ran through her body but this was…new. A good kind of new.

“So I take it you had a good time at the gym?” The man teased breathlessly as he ushered her around the coffee table to sit beside him on the couch. The woman let out a hum in confirmation as she laid down so they were pressed together, her back to his front, and wrapped his arms around her so his hands could live right where she needed them to. Another chuckle came from Steve as he buried his face into her hair finding-

“Did you put on perfume?”

“After working out,” she whispered as her eyes closed shut in complete and utter satisfaction, being held just the way she needed to be right now, “Didn’t want to come home smelling only like sweat.”

“I don’t mind,” Steve used his nose to brush the hair from the side of her neck, making her giggle as he pressed mindless kisses there, “I smell like sweat all the time and you still love me.”

“I do,” Y/N titled her head so he could press a kiss to her lips, one she returned eagerly before laying her head back down on the couch, “Fuck, I’m never doing the Stairmaster ever again.”

“Y/N, baby, if this,” Steve gave her tits a little squeeze to punctuate his thought, “is what happens after you’re on the Stairmaster, by all means, keep doing it. Any excuse to cuddle with my pretty little wife and hold her boobies is more than fine by me.”

“Don’t call them that,” Y/N scrunched her nose with a chuckle as she pressed her ass more into him to fit them closer together.

“What?” The man teased giving another squeeze, “Boobies?”

“STEVE!” The couple dissolved into a communal fit of giggles as they lay there together, all stress and strain completely forgotten as calm domesticity filled their hearts and home.

#stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things smut #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things fluff

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mariacallous · 3 months

Text

The loneliness epidemic in the United States is so bad that even federal agencies have begun to pay attention. Today, half of adult Americans report experiencing feelings of loneliness and isolation, and some of the highest rates are seen among young adults.

That’s a painful social problem—but it’s also a national security threat. I get laughed at sometimes when I try to explain this concept to old-school bureaucrats. Who can blame them? Evolving threats are a headache, so it’s easier to pretend that nothing ever changes. But consider how easy it can be to compromise the lonely and desperate.

Take Sweet Dave, as he’s come to be known among security professionals, otherwise known as David Franklin Slater, a retired U.S. Army lieutenant colonel-turned-civilian Air Force employee. Earlier this year, Slater was charged with passing on classified information to an individual—who claimed to be both a woman and Ukrainian—via email and an unnamed online messaging platform.

Documents included in the federal indictment against Sweet Dave read like a Saturday Night Live sketch: “Dear, what is shown on the screens in the special room?? It is very interesting,” the alleged Ukrainian woman is quoted as saying to Slater at one point.

“You are my secret informant love!” Slater’s beloved coos after checking in to ask about how NATO representatives travel.

Judging by these messages, Slater wants to feel special. The person he is corresponding with makes him feel like a hero, not just a retired soldier in Nebraska. Who doesn’t, at the end of the day, want to feel like a hero?

It’s easy to dismiss Slater as foolish and horny, and while he definitely seems to be both of these things, I was curious to see a fellow open-source intelligence expert unearth his Facebook likes: Here’s a guy who’s completely awash in images of unattainable fantasy women to an embarrassing level, and it follows that he would lose all common sense if approached by one online.

Sex is an old motivation for espionage, but the current rash of cases is about far more than lust. Take Air National Guard member Jack Teixeira, who leaked highly classified information to impress his fellow nerds on Discord, a social messaging platform. He, too, wanted someone to think of him as a badass.

Foreign intelligence has always preyed on the lonely and romantically vulnerable, from the West German women targeted during the Cold War by East German “Romeo” spies to the French diplomat who believed that his lover, a Chinese man, was a woman who had birthed his son.

But the internet allows a degree of connection—or the illusion of connection—that facilitates exploitation on a scale never before seen. Sometimes it doesn’t even take foreign actors. Consider the case of Anna Gabrielian and her spouse, Jamie Lee Henry, two Americans who are due for a new trial after being charged with giving classified information to Russia. (Last year’s legal proceedings against the couple ended in a mistrial.)

What does a married couple have to do with loneliness and fantasy worlds? Not much, or so I thought at first—until I reread the indictment.

Looking at the power dynamics on display in this case is revealing. Henry and Gabrielian were in a lopsided relationship, with Gabrielian submerged in a fantasy dreamworld of “sacrificing everything” for a distant, mythical Russia. And she pressured her spouse into going along with it.

Gabrielian was so far gone that she thought that she could simply email the Russian Embassy and offer them help, and that she could trust whoever reads emails from random strangers over there. (I personally think that Russian Embassy staff members likely decided they were being played and began making inquiries of their own sources that U.S. intelligence picked up on, thus ultimately exposing Gabrielian’s plan.)

Gabrielian went as far as calling her spouse a “coward” for showing hesitation about turning traitor. This was the pedestrian version of the infamous “Russia, if you’re listening” speech by former U.S. Donald Trump, this time by a woman who clearly thought that benevolent Russian benefactors would materialize and reward her courage. There doesn’t appear to be a financial motive, as is the case with many similar cases. This was a spy fantasy concocted by a woman who obviously wanted to feel important.

In yet another unfortunate case, Gordon Black, a staff sergeant in the U.S. Army, was arrested in Russia in May and accused of theft. Based on this man’s social media, he seems to have been involved with a Russian woman from Vladivostok—the city where he was nabbed by the authorities.

Based on available information, Black was in the middle of a divorce from his American wife. I’ve found pictures of him with the Russian woman in question dating as far back as June 2023. I have also found memes and comments, supposedly posted by this woman on social media, that reflect virulently violent views toward Ukrainians, anger toward NATO, and even the desire to humiliate her American boyfriend, whom she calls a slur in one memorable video.

Black was stationed in South Korea and was due to travel to a new post at Fort Cavazos, in Texas, when he decided to detour to Russia instead. According to his mother, Black did not appear to have permission to do so, and may have even been “set up”—although Black’s loneliness may have played an even bigger role.

It’s clear to an impartial observer that Black’s Russian girlfriend was bad news, yet he risked everything for her. The ardent devotion that appears in his face in one particular picture with his girlfriend is almost painful to look at.

The usual approach by both government and private actors to security training and identifying foreign threat actors is extensive, and repetitive lectures and reminders reiterate that training. But that doesn’t necessarily address the root of the problem.

Many people with access to sensitive information—like the public as a whole—are adrift both online and offline. They’re stressed, and they often don’t feel connected to other human beings. This makes them sitting ducks as far as foreign intelligence, hackers, scammers, and agenda-driven trolls go. It can also make them feel angry and resentful, willing to betray, and willing to act stupid for the sake of feeling powerful and important—and feeling seen.

In the national security world, the word “holistic” is often viewed with suspicion and seen as the purview of New Age crystal healers. But you can’t divorce human nature—and human predicaments—from digital and personal safety.

For example, I once had several diplomats act very surprised when I pointed out that not enough people are being taught that they shouldn’t use dating apps while drinking or while seriously stressed. It just hadn’t occurred to them that unwinding with a glass of wine after work and checking the apps could result in a bad outcome. These men weren’t stupid at all—they just hadn’t considered a holistic approach to using technology while holding a sensitive job.

The same can be said about drinking in other situations where you could be left vulnerable—such as in a foreign country, or in a bar frequented by the wrong kind of people. Somehow, we all know the risk, but we rarely focus on why people take it to begin with; we rarely focus on our natural need for connection and thus have a hard time mitigating it properly.

Another man in a sensitive job was once very surprised when I wrote that it’s perfectly OK and even advisable to video chat with a potential date. “You mean I can just ask for that? What if she thinks I’m rude?” he asked. The answer to that question should be “who cares?”

Unfortunately, for lonely people—and especially men—who are already having a harder time when it comes to connecting to others, “who cares” is not enough. Being in the right frame of mind, being more confident, and feeling more settled are essential to enforcing boundaries, and people desperate for connection simply have a harder time doing that.

“Put down your phone and go outside” is cliche advice, but outside is also a great place to meet people, thus leading to a lessened sense of loneliness, thus leading to reduced stress, and thus leading to better decisions.

“Recognize when you’re unhappy or desperate” is another cliche. People laugh when I bring up the fact that staying emotionally balanced is advisable from a national security perspective. Sounds like woo-woo yoga mom talk, right? Yet the clearance process is already meant to weed out people who feel desperate—people with gambling or drug problems, for example. So shouldn’t we also be focused on making sure that people who already have clearances have access to the tools they need in order to right themselves when pressures in their lives escalate?

How many leaders instead expect their subordinates to constantly be online and available? This feeds into the loneliness epidemic too—believe me. How easy do you think it is for a person to form meaningful connections when they are forced to constantly check their phone?

With lawmakers growing more cognizant of “right to disconnect” laws that allow employees space to be offline instead of demanding constant connection, perhaps we can start thinking more broadly about what it means to disconnect, and how burnout is inadvisable. Not just because burnout is bad, which it is, but because burnout can be dangerous.

Lonely and unhappy people are a gold mine for hostile actors. The subsequent need to seek connection and validation in the wrong places is a security threat—and one that national security leaders need to be thinking about much harder.

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slut4thebroken · 1 year

Text

Exposure Therapy pt. 6

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader

Summary | Dr. Crane wants to make some changes to your previous arrangement.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, kissing, hickeys, grinding, riding, praise, degradation, crying (but in a hot way), consensual sex, cockwarming?, he’s a simp lowkey, but he’s doing his best to hide it.

Words | 3k

Notes | I hope y’all enjoy! I’m doing my best to keep it consistent with how his character would act but it’s definitely a challenge lol

Ao3 link | <3

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Part 5

True to his word, he did return the next day with a few things. He stopped by your cell, rather than having someone bring you to him. When he handed you the bag, you eagerly took it and sat down on your bed to look through it. A sketch pad, multiple pencils- some colored- and two books that you haven’t heard of.

“I hope it is satisfactory.” He said, emotionless as ever.

“It’s perfect, thank you.” You beamed at him and he gave you a stiff nod, awkwardly looking everywhere but your eyes.

“Would you like anything else?”

“This is plenty.” You lied, not wanting to abuse his kindness.

“Okay. Bring that whenever you come to my office just in case you need something to do.” He gestured to the bag in your lap and you nodded. “Shall we?” You weren’t sure why he was asking, but even with the items he gave you, having only a little decent human interaction is not enough so you agreed eagerly.

“Do you have something planned?” You asked as you walked next to him, bag in hand.

“Not exactly. I just have some questions.” That’s all? He’s just going to ask you things? When you arrived, you sat down across from him, waiting for his questions.

“Are you eating?” He asked suddenly.

“Uh- yes? It’s hard to, though. The food is… not what I’m used to.” You did your best to say ‘the food here tastes like shit’ without actually saying that.

“And that is preventing you from eating even though you must be hungry?” His tone was clinical… neutral.

“I’ve gotten used to the feeling by now.” You shrugged and he hummed in acknowledgment.

“From now on I think it would be best if you ate lunch with me, in my office.”

“What?” You choked out, staring at him with wide eyes.

“You are of no use to me this malnourished.” Is it really that obvious? You’ve only been here a couple weeks… “So I will bring you something and you will eat with me.” He said simply, as if his words didn’t have the impact that they do. He wants to not only bring you food, but eat with you every day too?

“You can refuse, though I would highly frown upon that, given your current state of health.”

“No, I- I’ll eat in here. Please.” The thought of actual food was already making your stomach roar to life.

“Good. Starting tomorrow then.”

“Okay. Was there anything else?”

“When you offered your assistance, was that to satiate boredom or were you being genuine?” He asked casually.

“Both. Why?”

“It might be nice to have someone to help with all of the paperwork so I can spend my time on more important tasks.” It wasn’t lost on you the way he phrased it as a statement, rather than him just asking for your help.

“What would you have me do?”

“To start? Copying my notes onto forms, scheduling appointments, things like that.” While it didn’t sound like the most exciting job in the world, it seemed better than your current routine.

“Sure.” He almost seemed caught off guard by your answer. “During lunch? Or would I do it another time?”

“You need to eat so, no, not during lunch. It will vary each day so I do not have a specific answer.”

“Okay.”

“Have you thought about my other offer at all?” You completely forgot about that to be honest. Which he seemed to be able to read from your expression. “That’s alright. You can think about it now if you want and I can answer any questions you have.”

“Okay… I do have questions.” He motioned for you to continue so you did. “What exactly would I be doing?”

“Sometimes administering the toxin yourself, sometimes writing down my thoughts. Depends on the day.” He shrugged.

“Why do you want me to do this?”

“There’s no catch, if that’s what you’re asking.” He said coyly— trying to deflect.

“If there’s no catch, then why?” He let out a heavy sigh and looked away from you as he thought.

“Normally when a patient outgrows their… usefulness… Well, you saw the state of some of them down stairs. And as of right now, your fears are trivial. Phobias of a person or an object are common, it’s not something I need to use you for.”

“So instead of giving me enough toxin to drive me mad, you’d rather I help you?”

“Yes.”

“Then why can’t you let me go? If I’m not useful to you anymore.”

“Do you want me to?” That made you falter.

“I… I don’t want to leave you, I just want to leave here. I miss my bed, I miss real food and comfortable clothes.”

“You miss that… more than you would miss me. Is what you’re saying.” He almost sounded offended.

“No, I just- I want to help you, but I can’t stay here forever. I’m miserable.” He looked down to the desk at your words.

“And how do I know this isn’t just some plot to get out of here?” He said, looking at you again.

“You’re the one with the psych degree, you tell me.” He narrowed his eyes as he examined you and you waited patiently for him to find that you’re telling the truth. He hummed in acknowledgment, seemingly not finding the right words.

“Why do you want me to stay so bad? You said it yourself, I’m not useful to you anymore.” You asked softly, hesitantly.

“Just because I don’t need to study you in my experiments, doesn’t mean you can’t help me with them.”

“That’s the only reason?” You could already feel yourself deflating from his words.

“What other reason would there be?” You bit your lip and looked at your lap.

“Nothing.” You smiled dryly, looking back up at him. “Look, as far as I’m concerned, whatever I do is up to you. You’re not going to let me go and you don’t want to use me in your experiments so there aren’t many options.” You shrugged, not wanting to draw this conversation out so you can avoid any other tactless remarks.

“Fine. Regarding your… treatment, that will be up to you.” Did he not want to do that anymore? You don’t want to say you want to keep doing it if he doesn’t actually want to.

“You don’t want to anymore?” You tried to sound normal and not desperate or sad.

“Do I want to keep raping you? No, I don’t.”

“Oh,” You didn’t mean it like that. Honestly it’s hard to think of it as that now. “Okay, then… we can stop.” You said quietly.

“Is that what you want? Or are you just saying that because of what I said.”

“It doesn't matter what I want if you don’t want to. That defeats the whole purpose of discontinuing the rape.” He eyed you curiously before responding.

“If it wasn’t rape, would you want to continue?” He asked, looking at you through slightly narrowed eyes.

“I mean… it’s- I don’t know… I haven’t really thought about it.” You shrugged, trying to play it off.

“It’s a yes or no question.” He said teasingly with a glint in his eyes.

“You answer first then!” You said defensively.

“Would I want to keep fucking you consensually? Yes.” He said lowly, making your breath hitch.

“Okay well maybe I want that too.” You said, once again, defensively. When he didn’t respond and let you stew in your answer, you rambled out more. “And by maybe, I mean more than maybe.” You watched his lips turn up into a smirk at your rambling. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like- like that!” You exclaimed, pointing at the growing smirk on his lips.

“Would you want me to consensually fuck you right now?” He asked casually, making your eyes widen. You tried to stammer out a response, but he granted you mercy by continuing. “Come here.” As he took off his glasses and set them on the desk, you stood and slowly walked over to him, waiting awkwardly once you were by his side. He grabbed your hips and rolled his chair back a little, giving you room to straddle his thighs. Once you were settled, he placed his hands on the arms on the chair, making you frown.

“It’s only consensual if you actually give consent. So far you haven’t.” He explained, raising his brows as he waited for your response.

“Yes. Fine- I want it.” You muttered, embarrassed.

“What was that?”

“I want you to fuck me. Please.” You weren’t able to maintain eye contact as you spoke. His hands grasped your hips, pulling you forward to grind against his bulge, making your breath hitch. You lifted your hands to place on his shoulders, but froze, not sure if it’s okay. He seemed to sense your hesitation because he gave you a nod to your silent question. As your hips maintained the movement without him needing to guide you, your gaze drifted down to his lips. You’ve never seen a man with such pink, soft looking lips. You watched them curl up into a small smile, making your eyes snap up to his.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” He asked, eyes fluttering down to your lips.

“Yes please.” You whispered, subconsciously leaning closer. It hasn’t even been very long but you already miss the feeling of his lips pressed to yours— the way he eagerly swallowed down your sounds.

He leaned up a little and captured your lips in a kiss, making your hips stutter. This kiss was less desperate and hungry than the previous one you shared. Instead, it was slower, more gentle. He removed one hand from your hip and placed it over your covered heat, rubbing your clit through the layers of clothing, making you gasp into the kiss.

“Please.” You whined against his lips as he continued to tease you. That seemed to be enough for him though and he pulled away from the kiss to free his cock before pulling your pants and underwear down just enough to free your drooling cunt.

“Tell me what you want.” He prompted, stroking his length to full hardness.

“Please fuck me.” You whined, hips squirming, trying to maneuver yourself onto him. He relented, lifting your hips enough to line his cock up with your entrance, then pulling you all the way down. You let out a choked moan, brows furrowing and eyes slightly watering from the stretch— maybe I should’ve let him tease me a little more, you thought, trying not to wince. He seemed to pick up on that though and he let you remain buried on his cock, not moving yet.

“Relax.” He said softly as his hands settled on your hips, thumbs rubbing soothing circles.

“I- I’m sorry.” You whispered, willing your body to just hurry up and adjust. “I’m okay… You can move.” You said, holding your breath, preparing yourself for the stinging pain to worsen. Instead, his hand moved to your clit, rubbing slowly to build your arousal. When your walls fluttered around his length, the only indication he gave that he was affected was a slight hitch of his breath.

His other hand wrapped around the back of your neck and pulled you into another kiss. Your hips started rocking slowly and he pulled back from the brief kiss to remove your shirt. He leaned down, sucking your nipple into his mouth, not even teasing you first, and you gasped as your hands found their way to his hair again. The hand that wasn’t on your clit, moved to your other nipple, lightly pinching and rolling it between his fingers. After another few seconds, he pulled back with a wet pop, then switched to the other one. The stinging in your core was replaced with a dull ache by the time he had finished.

“Fuck me.” You whispered, hips rocking greedily. He had to look in your eyes to be sure, but once he was satisfied with your honesty, he moved both hands to your hips again and slowly lifted you before letting you drop back down with a startled moan. He continued the slow, teasing pace, you started to whine impatiently as you pulled on his hair. You could tell that he was having an internal battle of whether or not he should fuck you like you wanted or punish you for being greedy and you did your best to hide your smirk when he chose the former.

He grabbed your hips tighter and planted his feet to start thrusting up into you, but he only lasted a few seconds before his chair started rolling back. He cursed under his breath and stood up, making you grab onto his shoulders as you let out a startled sound. Holding you up by your thighs, he walked you over to the couch, then sat down and almost immediately started bucking up into you.

“Shit-“ You said through a breath at the suddenness of his thrusts, but he paid no mind to it. He just held you still and fucked you with an intensity you didn’t know he had.

“That’s it- just take it. Just be a good girl, sit nice and still, and fucking take it.” He growled, making you whimper.

“Please.” You cried, holding onto his shoulders so tight that your fingers ached.

“Tell me what you’re begging for.” He said lowly, but his voice was starting to get breathier.

“I- I don’t know… please!”

“Poor thing. I fuck you for just a few minutes and already you’re too cock drunk to even know what you’re begging for.” He cooed mockingly, making you whine and clench around him.

“Dr. Crane,” You whimpered, eyes filling with tears of desperation.

“I wonder how long I’ll have to fuck you for until you’re permanently cock drunk.” You sobbed out a moan at that, feeling the knot of arousal in your stomach grow even tighter.

“Please!”

“You want that? You want me to turn you into a cock drunk whore? Just a little sleeve for my dick?” You let out an embarrassed whine, feeling your cheeks heat up as you nodded.

“I bet you do.” He chuckled breathlessly. “I bet you just want to be turned into a proper fuck toy— you don’t need to think, you just need to be fucked and bred.” You let out a choked sob, his words feeding into your kink enough that the fear was at the back of your mind. You nodded again with a whimper.

“If you want something, you need to ask for it. And quickly too, otherwise I’ll have to pull out. You don’t want it to go to waste do you?” He frowned, making you mirror the expression.

“No… Want your- I want your come, please…” You whimpered, eyes burning with tears of humiliation.

“Yeah? You want me to fill you up? Say it.”

“I- I want you to- to fill me up... Please, Dr. Crane.” When the tears started falling, he removed one hand from your hip to wipe them away as he shushed you.

“There’s no need to cry. I’ll give you what you want.” He said softly and you sniffled in response.

“Thank you.” You whimpered.

“Ready?” You couldn’t respond, not as his grip became painfully tight on your hips and he fucked even rougher. All you could do was nod. “Rub your clit.” He said through a breath. You moved a shaky hand between your legs, rubbing fast circles over your clit as you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching. He let out a low groan as your walls spasmed around his length from the pleasure, then forced you all the way down, the tip bulging your stomach a little. You let out a choked moan, feeling his cock twitching inside as hot come painted your walls. Through your moans you could hear him groaning and panting, eyes squeezed shut as he rode out his orgasm. When he stilled, you whimpered painfully, feeling close to your own orgasm.

“Please.” You cried, hips trying to rock against him even though he was mostly holding you still. “Please, I wanna come.” You whined, eyes filling with tears once again.

“Go ahead.” He said simply, removing his hands from your body and settling into the couch with a small smirk.

“But I want your help.” You frowned.

“I’m giving you my cock. Would you rather I let you hump my leg instead?” You let out a long, needy whine as you pouted.

“…No.” You muttered.

“Then go ahead.” You whined, but started rocking your hips faster, continuing to rub your clit. “That’s it. Put on a good show for me.” The emotion in his voice was new to you— even if it was just smug amusement. You moved your hips faster, rubbed your clit harder, eagerly chasing your orgasm.

“Good girl.” He was teasing you, mocking you, but you still let out a strangled moan from the praise. Your orgasm crashed over you suddenly, making your whole body tremble as you rode it out, sobbing out moans from the pleasure. When your sounds died down and your body stopped shaking, you sagged in exhaustion, hissing as his cock went even deeper in your now sensitive cunt. Your eyes fluttered open and you looked up at him through your lashes, sleepiness clear in your features.

“Good girl. Did that feel good?” He said softly and you nodded, not even attempting to talk. You wanted to lean forward against his body, lay your head on his chest and let your heavy eyes fall shut. But you knew there wasn’t even a slight chance that he would react any way other than negatively. So you placed your hand on his chest, forcing yourself to stay up and not give in to the sleepiness.

“Are you tired?” He asked and your eyes fluttered open again, not even realizing you closed them.

“Yeah.” You did your best not to slur the word.

“You can rest here before returning to your room. I have quite a bit of work that needs done so I’ll be here a while.”

“Mhm.” You nodded, giving him a small smile that you swore he almost returned. When he grabbed your hips and started lifting you off his cock, you whined.

“I know.” He said quietly. Once you were sitting normally on his lap, he pulled your underwear and pants back up, then gently set you on the couch. When he stood up and walked away, you frowned, but he quickly returned, holding your shirt. He slipped it on over your arms and head, then let you lay down, resting your head on your hand as you curled up on your side.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, not able to keep your eyes open long enough to wait for a response.

Part 7

#jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #scarecrow x reader smut #scarecrow #exposure therapy

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genericpuff · 6 months

Note

How long do you plan making rekindled? I loved Lo at some point, But now I cant get enough of your version!! And I wanted to know how did you come up with the darker back stories for Rekindled?

I have a semi-detailed skeleton of the plot with basically every story beat planned out, but I can't definitively say how long it will be as I haven't actually scripted every single episode out yet.

Not to mention a lot of the time my scripts will change from their original versions, by the time I get to an episode I've planned ahead for I've either thought of new ways to do it or don't like how it's paced so I change it. Case in point, there was a specific scene I had planned for the next episode and then wound up not liking the pacing because it was too fast so I moved it to several episodes away and restructured everything on the fly, took a whole new text document and scrapping sketches to figure shit out LOL I actually do have up until Episode 70ish scripted out in my documents with like, actual notes and dialogue for each episode, but I already have sooo many of those crossed out now because of how much I've had to tweak and change as time has gone on. This is why I plan ahead well in advance though, so that if I do need to make those changes, I can make them long before the episodes are even due to be drawn (and believe me, they get changed during the sketching phases too LOL).

What I can confirm for certain is that the current 'arc' we're in right now is definitely the bulk of the story. And that's not to say there isn't any content afterwards, more like the pacing just gets completely turned on its head in the last 30-40% of it where shit gets N U T S and just can't go back to the same energy that it was in the beginning. Without spoiling, there's a certain 'turning point' in the plot and everything after it isn't quite as long as the stint of story we're in now. This is mostly because the arc we're currently in is still establishing a bunch of stuff like the Underworld Corp, Persephone's schooling, etc. and once that turning point hits, it's basically all character development and focusing on the consequences of everything setup in the first arc.

I guess if I had to illustrate it, the story progression in the end will look something like this?

It's basically just this slow and chill climb that, once it hits that sharp peak, doesn't ever return to normal levels LMAO So I guess enjoy this part of the story while you can because it's the chillest it'll ever be w(°ｏ°)w And boy, I am EXCITED for that peak, but we have a long way to go before we get there. As for how long, well, I'm hoping I'll be able to have Rekindled's story wrapped up in the next 2 years, tops. Just depends on how the update schedule goes, and assuming the plans I have put down for the plotting don't change in any major way. I don't have as much of the latter half of the story actually scripted out yet so for all I know it could wind up being way longer than anticipated, but right now I have a pretty good sense of how the story beats will play out in relation to each other.

So it's kind of a wait and see thing, at least until I have every episode scripted out, and even then I won't be 100% sure because things are always being tweaked and fixed and changed on the fly! I'm guessing it won't go much longer than 170 episodes, give or take, but that's a very very VERY rough estimate.

Regardless, Rekindled still has a lot more story to tell, and I'm hoping y'all enjoy the ride with me <3

As for the darker backstories, y'all don't even know yet. Like... I've got stuff planned. Stuff that even Banshriek (my BG assistant) doesn't know about. Stuff that I keep buried very deep in Rekindled's episode documents that won't see the light of day until they have to be ripped out of the deep dark trenches of the characters' own buried secrets, and by that point, the toothpaste will be out of the tube, there will be no going back. So, again... enjoy it while it lasts. Because I don't pull my punches. And maybe even you won't be able to look at me the same way again once the final blow has been dealt.

Sleep well.

#k but i am actually really nervous for how those bigger turning points go #esp the spiky one LOL #i feel like it'll definitely be uh. interesting. in how people feel about it.#but mostly because it'll just be a punch to the gut #i will definitely give adequate warning when it's coming so that people can steel themselves LOL #ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lore rekindled ama

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luv4fandoms · 2 years

Note

Think about the lost boys just coming right behind you and just sniffing you deeply into your neck and hair

Brain would just short circuit, like whaaaaa. I mean I'd take it as a compliment that a being with a super high sense of smell enjoys my scent but also, holy sh*t that seemed intimate lol.

Paul

Paul does this a lot anyways

By far the most touchy of the group

Like even before he and you become mates

The first time he did it (not long after meeting them) it flustered the hell out of you

404 error

He had just walked up behind you one night while you were standing there talking to Marko, wrapped his arms around your middle, pulled you in, and leaned down to bury his nose in your neck.

You just stood there like 😶, which caused the boys to start laughing.

"Paulie" you spoke after a moment

"Yeah Sugar?" He'd ask, and you could feel the smile against your skin.

"Whatcha doing?"

*Cue Paul moaning, making you even more flustered. Something he took note of*

"You just smell so good" he'd tell you, and yup, you were a goner

After finding out about them being vamps it became even more flustering.

Like knowing that a vampire enjoys your scent enough to not kill you is awesome

But when said vampire enjoys sniffing (which often leads to licking) you every time he can get his hands on you.

Flustering.as.hell

Trying to clean up the cave?

Paul appears out of nowhere to pull you towards him for a sniff.

Sitting on the couch?

Bam suddenly Paul.

Walking by the couch while he is sitting on it?

Pulls you into his lap.

Already in bed?

Cuddle fest right? Boy would fall asleep with his face buried in the crook of your neck.

Like I said, Paul is touchy, he's loving, and he's a cuddle bug. Period.

Marko

The first time Marko did it was genuine

You had used your new peppermint shampoo that night and Marko had found himself instantly drawn to the scent.

He could smell it across the cave and it felt like the combination of it mixed with your own scent was just drawing him in.

*cue cartoon character floating along following the scent*

You were sitting on the couch, turned sideways to get a better look at the fountain, which was currently the subject of your sketch.

When he slowly sat behind you, careful not to make you make unneeded marks on the page.

And just...*buries face, and deep sniff against the hair that covered the back of your neck*

*cue you almost shooting up off of the couch if his arm hadn't quickly wrapped around your middle*

"Marko what the hell?!?" You asked but you were glad he couldn't see your extremely red face.

"Sorry Cutie, you just smell so good" he smiled.

Marko would also be a little teasing shit

Often sniffing your neck as he held you close

And when you'd squirm because of how flustered it made you, he'd just give you that shit eating grin and ask.

"What's wrong my little juice box?"

Dwayne

Your scent was one of the first things that attracted him to you that night on the boardwalk.

He could smell the mixture of florals and your own intoxicating scent from a mile away.

He would never say it out loud but your scent grounds and comforts him.

Just because he's the quiet one doesn't mean he doesn't have shit going on upstairs.

Sometimes he does get stressed, or just annoyed with the group.

But your scent just melts that all away and makes his brain quiet.

The first time it happened the group had been rowdier than normal

Fresh kills under their belt, even if it had been close calls of getting caught.

Marko and Paul were being especially loud, getting Laddie to join in on the fun.

David had this very tense aura about him, no doubt aware of the close call.

And Dwayne...Dwayne had retreated to the couch in the far corner, almost completely concealed in the shadows, but his aura was just...stressed.

You slowly made your way over to him and asked if he was ok, watching as he looked up at you for a long moment.

You knew he wasn't the talking type, so you figured that look was a simple "leave me alone".

Giving him a sad smile you just nodded and turned to leave.

Before you felt your body quickly move backwards.

Strong arms wrapped around your middle while your back pressed against his chest.

He quickly buried his nose in your hair and neck, breathing your scent in deeply and letting it calm him.

You on the other hand were beyond flustered and a blushing mess, heart racing.

"Stay for a bit?" He asked, if you would have said no he would let you go, as hard as it would be.

"Ok" you replied, feeling the smile against your neck before feeling him bury his entire face against your hair, arms tightening a bit.

David

David would never let on how much your scent affected him.

Like he acts like he couldn't be bothered

When in fact your scent makes his brain both short circuit and go into overdrive

Honestly he hates it

Hates that he has a hard time controlling himself around you, because he needs control.

But every time you come around...404 error.

He hides it well though, the boys don't know after all, nor do they or you need to know.

But sometimes it gets harder to control

Some days he thinks about just pulling you to him and never letting you go

And one day that intrusive thought won out.

You had been cleaning up the cave, a task he had told you didn't matter, but you insisted.

Saying that sure they might trip over something and it didn't matter, but you might and break a bone.

A fact that he didn't want to happen so he let you clean.

And watched as you picked up Laddie's toys that you had bought him, as well as things the boys had left lying around.

Speaking of, the boys had gone off to the boardwalk with Laddie and Star, leaving the two of you alone.

By now only your scent filled the cave due to your slight sweat from cleaning

And it was driving.him.mad

The snapping point was when you passed in front of him too close, your scent completely washing over him, and the next thing you knew you were sat in his lap on his throne.

His nose buried against the hair that covered the back of your neck

Breathing deeply and releasing the breath in a low growl.

The action completely flustered you

Like holy shit wtf? Also please don't stop.

Because David didn't give you this kind of attention

Even though deep down you had been begging the universe for him to.

"D-David?" You asked after a moment, voice unsure, and being met with a tighter grip against your middle.

"Yes?" He asked easily before burying his nose against just your bare neck after moving your hair aside.

"W-What are you doing?"

"Nothing" he told you with another low growl, causing your mouth to clamp shut.

"Ok"

You sat there, slowly relaxing in his hold as he buried his nose against your skin more, slowly rubbing circles against your stomach.

Honestly it felt really good to be held by him, you felt extremely protected.

Almost enough to lull you into a light sleep.

Until you heard the next word he whispered.

"Mine"

I hope you like these ☺️. I know I definitely wouldn't be complaining if any of these fine gentlemen did this to me lol

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comicaurora · 1 year

Note

Hi! I'm a big fan of your work. Thanks for taking the time to read this.

I'm an artist who's been working on a story with a close writer friend of mine since the pandemic. Together we've outlined a webcomic that we're both very excited and passionate about, and it's been a great experience. Late last year we started actually making the comic itself, and a little less than a year later we're 37 pages in.

I wanted to ask you how you're able to somehow push out three high-quality pages every week? I work full time, and most days I'm too drained when I get home to immediately start working on the comic. Plus all the other stuff I have to take care of to be a functional adult. I'm not even that slow of an artist, but it just doesn't feel like there's enough hours in the day. At my current rate, I get about one page done per week. I'm 24 now, I don't want to be in my 50s still working on this story. Do you have any advice for increasing your output as an artist without completely overwhelming yourself?

Sorry for the wordy question. There's a reason I'm the artist and not the writer.

Oof, that's a tough one!

I mean, to start with, a fundamental difference in our schedules is I don't work full time. Everything I do for a living is very self-scheduled, and I can work far in advance to meet the deadlines I set and take entire days or even weeks off when I need them. Back when I was in college, dealing with outside schedule requirements, I definitely wouldn't have been able to keep up everything I do now.

That said, there are still methods to streamline and speed up the artistic process. I don't know the details of your methods, but I'd recommend sketching and storyboarding larger numbers of pages at a time and finalizing them at a more leisurely pace, rather than taking one page of comic at a time from a total blank to a finalized, polished version. The storyboard can be very basic; many of mine are little more than color-coded scribbles showing the characters and text boxes showing their dialogue. It's just enough to be readable to me so I can go in and edit it for pacing and timing, but it looks like absolute chickenscratch to anyone else. On the production side, that makes it much more feasible for me to work on multiple pages at a time, since I don't need to finish polishing one page before I can start boarding another.

This method can be expanded into a bit of a factory production line, allowing for a two-pronged approach of progress - one for finalizing older pages, the other farther along for storyboarding new ones. And once you have multiple pages done at a time, you can schedule them well in advance, which takes a lot of deadline pressure off and can make it less mentally daunting to work on. This also diversifies the space of things you can work on, depending on your headspace and energy levels - which is a useful option to have when you're wiped from outside responsibilities.

#asks #writing stuff #art stuff

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taylorswiftstyle · 2 years

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65th Annual Grammy Awards | Los Angeles, CA | February 5, 2023

Roberto Cavalli custom

Rather than look backward and pay homage to RED and its TV in honour of her SOTY nomination for "All Too Well (10 Minute Version)", Taylor went with a more Midnights-appropriate look at the Grammys.

This midnight navy colour is beautiful on Taylor - a hue she rarely wears. Combined with the starry night embellishments, the looks feels appropriate to the late night theme of Midnights. I think I could envision this as a gown with side cut outs and a slit - or with a completely open back. With the current silhouette, the reference to the co-ordinating sets and crop tops of the 1989 era immediately came to my mind.

I would have loved to have seen the hood (as pictured in the original Fausto Puglisi-designed sketch) but am not mad by its omission to instead commit to a high wattage, statement earring moment. Continuing to prove that styling can really make or break a look.

The slightly mussed, twisted bun was a nice way to counterbalance all the sharp lines of the ensemble. See those strong shoulders, the geometric earrings, the horizontal slice of her torso. An updo was definitely needed with that high neck but it was a great choice to give a little looseness and her makeup was so well-coordinated to the rest of the look.

Worn with: Lorraine Schwartz earrings and rings and Giuseppe Zanotti heels

#taylor swift #award #top #crop top #skirt #coord #roberto cavalli #february 2023 #grammys

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chubs-deuce · 4 months

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Your art style is so satisfying!! I love the way you render faces!

When did you come up with the concept of Dawn?? Did you have different ideas of a charlastor fanchild before her?

sjlsdkfj thank you so much!!! ;A;

And I think I should give some insight about some of the meta context for Dawn to anyone who wasn't there for it before we go in-depth with my design choices lmfao

I received an ask about what I think a charlastor fankid would look like back in march and was basically all "yeahhh nooo I don't care about fankids so it's unlikely I'll dabble in that concept, at least I don't currently have plans for it" and it's true! I genuinely don't normally enjoy fankid stories (I have severe tokophobia and too many of these types of stories include pregnancy as a thoroughly explored topic)

However...

I ended up intrigued by the idea of the challenge that combining two characters into a completely new character presented anyways, so I ended up trying my hand at designing one after all.

This meant that when I sat down to design her, I had genuinely no prior ideas, since I didn't really think about the concept before!

I have however seen other people's fankids floating around in the past, so I had a bit of an idea of what other people designed theirs like.

And this is by no means an insult to any of them and their lovely work, but I just didn't really vibe with a lot of them, since many just kind of amount to looking like recolors of one or the other character with maybe bonus deer ears and antlers - and that works fine!!! It's a very servicable strategy!!! I just personally wanted to not fall into that same vein with my design since I personally don't vibe with that approach much, so I actually tried really hard to make Dawn look like her own character while also giving her a balanced mix of visual cues from both of her parents :'D

in-depth elaboration on my design choices under the cut! ⬇️

I for example looked at Alastor's and Charlie's ears (at least how I draw them in my art) and thus gave her ears that looked like a mix between both - more animalistic, like Alastor's, with similar coloring (except inverted), but placed on her head more like Charlie's. I also wanted it to vaguely look like goat ears when at a resting/lower position like this and more like deer ears when perked up.

Her hair is also cross between both - colors are from both, the fringe is a mix of both (in shape and how it sits on her head and around her face more like Alastor, in terms of texture and length more like Charlie).

She has a lot of Alastor's facial features in her, though her chin is a bit more rounded, her nose smaller and her mouth a bit more like Charlie's as well.

Even her colors are a more or less even combination of both characters! Here's my color palettes for all three of them and which colors I doubled from who:

I should also note that I had her adult design down first before I even started drawing her as a kid, though I think that actually added a lot to making her feel more realistic surprisingly enough?

Since I already had her key features down, that left me with a lot of room to toy around with other design aspects, and somehow kid-ifying an adult character is much more intuitive to me than designing an adult version of a kid character :o

I don't have a linear timeline order or something to any of my posts about her, but from left to right in this array of drawings I've made of her as a child her age ranges from a few months old to like? 8-9-ish?

There's no fixed outfit for her as a kid, though her adult design does feature one more specific outfit:

I wanted her clothes to reflect that she looks up to her parents quite a lot, so I gave her somewhat old fashioned looking pinstriped dress pants - the colors are taken from Alastor's pants, though inverted with added pinstripes for flavor - and once I sketched out the pockets I knew I wanted them to faintly remind of the inside of an apple, so I added white and yellow to it :D

Her blouse is meant to be a bit more flowy - less restricting than Charlie's blazer, but equally elegant.

And because her design is already red-heavy enough, I balanced it out with making the shirt dark, the shoes black/white and the bow around her neck yellow!

I think that's about everything I can say about my thought process behind her design haha

Thank you for giving me an excuse to talk about it, I hope it wasn't too rambly!!! If you read through the whole thing you get a cookie lmao

#charlastor fankid #charlastor fanchild #hazbin hotel oc #chubs ocs #dawn morningstar #character design #chubs answers #digital fanart #art #my art

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bonefall · 11 months

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I'm still wading through some brain fog so I'm not writing as much as I want to, currently. But I have just been absently sketching Willowpelt because she's been on my mind

I had initially been working with the "hyena" face in mind, but I've been playing around with the "villainous role" idea for Ferncloud's Parting. I mentioned it to my partner who pointed out that big, strong profiles like that are overused for "vengeful" characters.

Besides, I really love drawing that face shape anyway, so I figured I'd move away from it since it's going to be on a LOT of RiverClan cats in particular (they have longer muzzles than other Clans because they hunt in water).

I'm leaning towards "bat" now... maybe I'll retool it so it's more deer-like. Deer are totally underused as inspiration for harsh characters...

Anyway ready for some WIP material? Plus a recap of Ferncloud's Parting for all who need a refresher

(oh wow it got long. The power of girlies <3)

FERNCLOUD'S PARTING... Refresher!!

Replaces Graystripe's Vow completely, taking place just after the Impostor has been deposed and is imprisoned. Ferncloud is now the main POV, accompanied on her journey by her childhood best friend Cloudtail and the Impostor's surviving lackey, Bumblestripe.

The goal of this SE is to explore Ferncloud's relationship to her younger brother, Ashfur.

(BB canon: Ferncloud and Elderberry are the older kits of Brindleface. Ashkit was a singlet born shortly before his mother's death, raised by Fern, Elder, and their grandmother One-eye. Fireheart botched the Queen's Rights while claiming Cloudkit, but for all intents and purposes was socially his Mi... which he was not good at being. Cloudtail was Ashfur's mentor and Ferncloud's childhood friend.)

Ferncloud is asking herself the question; "What could I have done to prevent this?"

A lot of secondary questions revolve around this... Does this make her responsible for what Ashfur has done? Did she teach him anything that contributed to who he is today? Does that make her responsible?

Cloudtail is in a similar situation, as Ashfur's mentor and someone who only ever wanted to help his friend. Could HE have prevented this? He wants to find out.

Graystripe, oldest cat in ThunderClan, accompanies the little group as far as the mountain... and decides to stay there, with his golden boy, Stormfur.

Bumblestripe had come along with them all, for... a lot of complicated reasons. But the most relevant is that he had been one of the Impostor's most loyal, brutal enforcers. Berrynose was killed in a huge skirmish, and now there's just Bumblestripe left alone to shoulder his sins.

After saying goodbye to his father for what's probably the last time, getting to meet the mythical oldest brother he's been compared to his entire life, and seeing Cloud and Fern looking to visit the Old Forest Territories... Bumblestripe goes with them even further to make sure the old cats stay safe.

Like Graystripe's Vow, I'm planning to keep the split chronology. It goes back and forth between Ferncloud in the Broken Era, and Ferncloud back during the Fire Era.

The ultimate moral here, the point I want to build to, is that Cloudtail and Ferncloud did exactly what was expected of them. They raised a loyal warrior who holds the code above all. They're only responsible for Ashfur insofar as they were responsible for teaching him the same values of vengeance, violence, and distrust of outsiders as was expected... in Firestar's absence.

(Though... there's lots of other questions that I don't think FP will answer. Like, COULD they have truly stopped him? Can they ever understand WHY, if they don't currently? There's a LOT of feelings here and I don't know if all of them really have answers.)

WIP STUFF TIME

Here's new stuff, I've either not mentioned this before, or I've mentioned it in passing without actually linking it to Ferncloud's Parting.

I have a LOT of ideas here that I have to start sorting through. I think these characters are all really interesting so it's really a matter of cutting down all these little details into something more coherent.

When Ashkit is young, he's a child. There was nothing particularly outstanding about him, besides the fact he was a bit lonely and eager to please.

There's a bit of an air of "loss" when Ferncloud thinks back to Ashpaw's childhood. Elderberry and One-eye will be dying soon after the "flashback" segments, so when she goes back to the modern era, thinking about them feels bittersweet.

I also want to sneak in that Ferncloud feels jealous over Cloudtail's mateship with Brightheart lmao, because she has a crush on Brightheart. (Note, maybe tie this to Ashfur being obsessed with Squirrelflight, with Fern questioning if her jealousy rubbed off on Ashfur)

Through helping WarriorClan, Bumblestripe feels REALLY good. They don't know anything about his past, his struggles, or his failures as a person. He's just a hero to them and that feels... good.

Watching Bumblestripe be good, learning more about his issues and WHY he did what he did while following Ashfur brings Cloud and Fern some insight... but not entirely what they need. Is Ashfur just a Bumblestripe on a bigger scale? Or are they just learning more about how good of a manipulator Ashfur is? In which case... where did that ability to manipulate come from?

Fang/Honeysuckle might be Bumblestripe's half-brother. If that's the case, Bumble is... frustrated by it. MORE of his dad's complicated legacy.

Ferncloud and Cloudtail probably have some short discussions about how much is really appropriate to teach to WarriorClan... after all, they're here questioning if any part of Ashfur was THEIR fault, what if they accidentally teach them something terrible?

But at the same time, Ferncloud is the Educator of ThunderClan, and these cats can't write. The Glyph system would be very useful to them, and they're begging to learn more about Clan culture.

Putting a pin in that part, for now. Will tie back more into the conclusion that the Clan cat party ultimately reaches.

BACK IN THE PAST; Firestar is away bringing back SkyClan in Firestar's Quietus. Everything that is done is without him.

Longtail, the deputy, is blinded and a leader does not immediately rise to fill the space in ThunderClan.

And in BloodClan, their trading partner... Scourge does the same. Oops! WRONG TIME, SCOOJ!

Planning to retire, Scourge announces an event called The Frenzy. He will choose the next leader from whoever accomplishes the biggest achievement in the given timeframe. This is how BloodClan passes on leadership.

He gives his chosen heir, Claw, their first Frenzy Achievement-- the fang of a dog from his own collar. Anyone who wishes to take power instead must accomplish a feat even bigger than what had allowed SCOURGE to take power in the first place; Killing a dog.

Fury is a challenger. She does NOT want Scourge's chosen heir, Claw, to lead BloodClan next. Claw will continue the trading and friendliness towards Clan cats, which Fury wants to end.

ENTER WILLOWPELT

Willowpelt ALSO wants this trading with BloodClan to stop. She feels it's gone too far.

BloodClan killed her mate-- Whitestorm. Firestar might have been willing to just throw his life away for this, but she's NOT.

She's recovering from a boar bite, currently, but it's scarring up nicely... and she's willing to pretend she's injured a little longer if it shakes suspicion off her.

She doesn't WANT to be allies with Fury, but if her goal is to bring BloodClan back into isolation... then, Willowpelt will do it.

And Fury promises her something else; Revenge. Scourge is the reason why Whitestorm died, and together, they can ruin his plans and make him watch as his peaceful little power transfer crumbles into ash.

GOOD SETUP IMO but I still need to work out what nefarious deed they'll do, exactly. All I know is that Fury will betray Willowpelt at the height of it. Maybe something about taking over Barley's barn. Maybe Elderberry gets killed.

But, I have one very strong feeling in mind; Ferncloud probably ends up killing Fury while Ashpaw watches or even helps.

Hmm... maybe Graystripe (becomes deputy as soon as Firestar gets back for handling this crisis so well) ordered them to let Fury go.

But Ferncloud looked at Fury, and decided that Willowpelt was right about one thing. Most BloodClan cats cannot be trusted.

The code does not apply equally to outsiders.

Maybe I WILL have Fury end up killing Elderberry in some way, and then give Ferncloud and Ashpaw a conversation about it. "Those who don't live by the code will not be protected by it. And we must protect our Clan... even if Graystripe doesn't realize it."

I could make it clear that Fury is not a threat at that point, having been beaten in some way and Claw ascending to BloodClan leadership. OR I could have left it open-ended, like, maybe Fury would be a future problem, maybe not. Not sure yet.

Willowpelt of course will also need to experience some consequences for this... unleeeess, I have Graystripe let her off really easy exactly because she's Clanborn, which even Cloudtail is frustrated about, maybe even coining the term "Codebreaker" as an insult under his breath.

In any case, Ferncloud never told Cloudtail about how she secretly killed Fury. It's too juicy to have her reveal it to him in the modern day, explaining that it IS her fault, she DID teach him the wrong thing.

Hmm... I'm talking myself into it. Though I did also like the original vibe that Ashfur's tyranny was kind of unknowable, trying to make sense out of a senseless thing he did. I think it feels a lot more interesting for Ferncloud to have been hiding this for literal years, and now feeling like she has to "pay the world back" for what she did.

Maybe even build towards something metal about Fury's grave. Hmm... maybe to hide the murder, she buried her in Elderberry's freshly dug one, since no one would notice the soil had been recently disturbed as it was JUST dug.

Buried my sister and my secret victim in the same grave. ~Just Girlie Things~

Cloudtail sitting here, War Criminal to the right and Secret Murderer to the left like "can i ever be around normal people. like, just once"

Jokes aside... Cloudtail needs to point out something very important. Ferncloud regretted what she did, and she never did what Ashfur is doing. She never sought power, when Firestar came back she's lived a long life without ever once undermining him, and even her beliefs have softened over time.

She was a Traditionalist back then, but is Fire Alone now. After everything. The destruction of the forest, loss of her kits, WindClan rebellion, reveal of Squirrelflight and Leafpool's secret...

She's helped to raise every new generation as the Educator. And yet, Ashfur, the Impostor, is unique.

And look at Bumblestripe... being Graystripe's son didn't stop him from being the Impostor's lackey.

We all make our choices. HE made his. You made your own.

But... I don't feel like Ferncloud can entirely accept that as an answer either. There would be a very forlorn sort of feeling here. Yes, we all make our own choices-- but we influence each other. For better and for worse. And she refuses to avoid responsibility for that.

Maybe in that moment I'll have her make the choice to return home, and BE the one who becomes the Light in the Mist to face Ashfur in the Dark Forest. Seems to be coming together.

#better bones au #Ferncloud's Parting #I really did not expect it to get that long I just wanted to talk about Antagonist Willowpelt lmaoo #BB!Willowpelt #BB!Ferncloud #BB!TBC

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