#read the guidelines it's in the fine-print i swear | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

indulgencecentral · 1 year

Text

Without Me?

AKA the JJK men catch you reading smut

Part 1: They want to share

Part 2: [soon]

Pairings: Satoru Gojo x f!reader, Suguru Geto x f!reader, agedup!Megumi Fushiguro x f!reader

Genre: fluff and smut oneshots

Warnings: NSFW, hints of manhandling, titty fondling (f receiving), nicknames, (honeypot, sugar drop, angel, love, darling) teasing, implied sex, swearing.

MDNI

A/N: I took so long working on this, first post jitters. I hope you like it, and I'll be posting guidelines for requests soon!

♡ S A T O R U G O J O ♡

You hear the door open to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, and you set your phone down on the low table beside the couch, skipping into the hallway to greet the excessively tall love of your life.

“Hello, my honeypot,” Gojo breathed, hands settling on your hips as you reached up to embrace him, allowing yourself to sink into his warmth, nose nuzzling into his neck, inhaling his sugar-sweet scent.

“I missed you, ‘Toru,” you whispered against the shell of his ear, hands working at his blindfold, leaning back to take in the crystal blue of his eyes, before kissing the tip of his nose.

Gojo Satoru did not usually blush, and only you had the pleasure of seeing him in this state, beruffled and blushing. “Not more than I missed you,’ he giggled, and you smiled.

“Of course,’ you returned. “While you were gone, I made us hot chocolate.”

“Read my mind, sugar drop.”

“Go get comfy, I’ll bring it out.”

Taking a moment to appreciate the perfect-ness of his life, Satoru watched you prance into the kitchen, moving to sit on the couch you had just vacated, the print of your ass still on the cushions.

And that was when it caught his eye. The words caught him off guard at first, before he picked up your phone and skimmed through what you had just been reading, the utter filth not shocking him at all — it was strikingly similar to his and your escapades in the bedroom.

“Y/N!” Satoru hollered, and you came in, dewy-eyed and smiling, carrying two steaming mugs in your hand. When you saw your phone in Satoru’s hand, your eyes widened in unfortunate realisation, as you remembered what was on the screen.

Still, you decided not to let it throw you off. “Here you go,” you seated yourself beside your boyfriend. “I made it how you like it, extra marshmallow foam on top.”

“Thank you, toots,” Satoru leaned forward to place a kiss on your nose, just like you had earlier, and the normalcy of the gesture made you lower your guard.

You gasped, and before you knew it, Satoru was on top of you, your faces inches apart, his leg wedged between your bare thighs that were barely covered by short shorts.

“So is this what you do when I’m gone?”

“What?” You continued to act oblivious, but the fevered blush on your face and cleavage had already given you away, you knew it.

“‘He pressed her to the wall-” Satoru began reading out, and you wanted to hide your face away, but he was so close and being caught red-handed was turning you on, for an inexplicable and unfair reason. “-and heat shot through her veins as his length pressed into her, spreading her apart in the most delicious way, pain—’”

“Okay, okay, fine! I admit it,” you shouted, wanting this embarrassment to end, pressing yourself into Satoru’s chest.

“Admit what? Go on, say it.” You could sense the gloating smile in his words.

“I was reading smut!” You shrieked, and Satoru laughed, putting your phone aside, drawing you away from his chest, and meeting your gaze. “Are you mad at me?” you pouted.

Satoru laughed again, a full-bodied laugh of true humour. “Well?” you demanded. “Are you mad?”

“God no, honeypot,” Satoru sat up, pulling you into his lap, and you shivered at what you felt, the outline of his hardness nudging up against the crotch of your shorts. “I think it’s sexy.”

“What?” you deadpanned, not believing him for a second.

“It’s hot,” he whispered and tilted your chin up, pressing a sultry kiss to the hollow of your throat, biting softly, sucking a mark into your skin.

“Really?” your voice faltered under your boyfriend’s ministrations, his hands reaching under your shirt to grasp and palm at the weight of your tits.

“Yes, very,” Satoru exhaled, before biting down hard enough to leave a mark on the plane of your shoulder, a moan escaping unbidden from your mouth. “I’m glad I’m living up to your standards too.”

At this, you pulled him up by the roots of his hair, snorting as he let out a whorish moan. “My god, ‘Toru, you’re such a perv.”

He gave you a rakish grin, intertwining his fingers with your free hand. “I’m your perv.”

“Shut up,” you scrunched your nose, unable to help a girlish giggle, cradling Satoru’s face in your hands and placing a soft, messy kiss on his mouth. “The hot chocolate’s gone cold,” you reminded him, and he groaned.

“Fuck that. You know you’re my favourite treat, sweetheart.”

“Satoru, you’re so cheesy,” you sighed giddily, rising from the comfortable seat of his lap, and Satoru clung to your hand, refusing to let go. “I’m gonna reheat the drinks.”

“Sure,” he agreed, but before you could take a step further, he trilled, “Y/N,” voice full of a familiar cheekiness. You turned to face him, and he pulled you close, hugging your torso, sky-blue eyes looking up imploringly at you.

“Yes?”

“You wanna watch porn together?”

“Satoru!”

♡ S U G U R U G E T O ♡

“Love,” Suguru acknowledged you as you strode out of the shower, towel wrapped around your torso, and you threw him a smile over your shoulder as you opened the doors of your closet. “How was your shower?”

“Refreshing.”

“You gonna get dressed now?”

“Yeah, in the comfy pyjamas.”

“Pity,” Suguru sighed, the falsity in his voice obvious, getting your attention immediately.

“Why? You wanna do something else?” Modesty was just a facade, you had always believed, and following your age-old principle, you dropped your towel, but your boyfriend didn’t so much as blink at your sudden nudity.

“Suguru,” you called pleadingly, taking a step forward. “What’s on your mind?”

At this, Suguru looked you straight in the eye. “Stay right there, darling. Don’t move a single muscle.” His tone was low and dangerous, and it ignited something electrifying in you.

With a predator’s prawl, Suguru walked up to you, and that’s when you saw what was in his hand — a bookmarked page of a novel with highly graphic smut you had forgotten was on your bedside.

“Suguru, I—” you began before he shook his head, effectively silencing you.

“Darling, I confess, I didn’t know your taste skewed this way when it came to books.” Suguru drew close, moving behind you, his breath fanning the bare nape of your neck and his arms encircling you as he opened the book to where you had last left off reading. “Would you read aloud for me, love?”

“Sugar, are you mad?” You asked, your question devolving into a shrieky gasp when he pinched your butt, hard.

“Is that reading aloud, love? I know you aren’t dumb. Go on, read.”

When Suguru was like this, you couldn’t help but feel a shocking thrill. You knew his meanness, his tendency to be merciless ought to frighten or scare you, but often it made you feel especially vulnerable, especially sexy. Being at Suguru’s mercy was an exquisite kind of torture.

Swallowing a nervous gulp, you found a suitable paragraph to begin reading, but your eyes grew unfocused when you felt slender, be-ringed fingers caressing your sides, teasing at the sensitive skin beneath your tits.

“Start right here,” Suguru pointed out a line, and your mouth grew dry. Still, you began narrating, the lewd words feeling especially salacious on your tongue.

As you moved down the page, Suguru’s hands moved up and down your body, grazing soft, dewy skin, circling the tender buds of your nipples, skimming your thighs, caressing the cushiony expanse of your stomach. But where you needed him the most, he avoided on purpose, and your voice grew breathier as you read, dangling on the precipice of desperation.

When his lips landed on the curve of your neck, sucking and nipping, you broke. Words forgotten, your book fell to the floor, and you whined, voice dripping with need. “Sugar, Suguru, please.”

“What’s wrong, love?”

“I… I need you. I want to touch you. Need you to touch me.”

Suguru hummed against your skin, and his fingers traced the goose-pimpled outline of your arms, bringing them to rest at the small of your back, holding you captive.

“In the book—”

“Suguru, please, I—”

As swift as lightning, one of your boyfriend’s hands came to circle your throat, pressing hard enough to make you swallow the pathetic words that rested on the tip of your tongue. His other hand remained, and you were entirely at his mercy.

“Let me speak, darling.” A shiver crept down your spine. “The woman in that book seemed to love being bent in half and stuffed full by her lover’s cock. Is that why you were reading? Is that something you want?”

Oh. Oh, Suguru wasn’t jealous. He was turned on. Risking punishment, you pressed your bare ass into him, and gasped at what you felt, the impressive length of him straining against his sleep trousers.

“Answer me, love.” His grip around your throat loosened ever so slightly, enough for you to draw a quick breath and nod. “Tsk, use your words.”

“Yes, Sugar. I… I would like that.”

“Then, I can’t let my girl down now, can I?”

Just like that, he hoisted you up, and your legs locked around his waist as your lips met in a messy, sloppy, desperate. You delighted in the groan that left him when you pressed your dripping core to his covered dick, and his hands were all over you, fondling whatever he could, a starving man at a bountiful banquet.

Laying you down on your bed, he knelt above you, breaking your kiss with a panting smirk. Fingers under your chin, he tilted your face up to meet his burning gaze.

“Darling?”

“Yes, sugar?”

“Next time, instead of reading about it, I want you to ask me.”

You blushed, hard. “You don’t mind…?”

“Fuck no, love. But tell me, and I’ll put those fictional men to shame.”

♡ M E G U M I F U S H I G U R O ♡

“Come on, you know this, I know you do,” your boyfriend and temporary tutor, Megumi encouraged you, as you gazed frustratedly at the sum before you.

“Ugh! I’m sick of this,” you sighed, pushing away from the table, disturbing the silence in the library, earning yourself a sharp ‘sh!’ from somewhere within the depths of the labyrinthian complex.

Megumi frowned. “It’s fine, maybe you need a break.”

“Maybe,” you replied, desperate to try anything at this point.

“Alright, I’m gonna go get some water. Just do something that’ll help you unwind, yeah?”

“Okay,” you nodded, watching as Megumi left, your eyes on his pert ass, defined so well by the tailored trousers he insisted on wearing. You knew he could feel your eyes on his ass, but hey, he had told you to unwind.

Stretching slightly, you quickly pulled up the novel choc full of smut you’d been reading, settling in before getting to the good part. Unfortunately, you were so absorbed in the story, that you didn’t notice someone sneaking up behind you.

It was only when you felt Megumi’s slow, cool breath fanning the nape of your neck did you jerk up, quickly locking your phone and putting it away. But as you felt Megumi’s hands creep up your arms, dragging his short, manicured nails over your goose-pimpled skin, you knew you were royally fucked.

“What were you reading, Y/N?” Megumi asked conversationally, and you swallowed nervously, mind racing to find a proper answer and drawing a blank.

“Nothing,” you chirped, a bead of sweat forming on your brow. “Just a chapter of a book I hadn’t gotten the chance to finish.”

Megumi spun the chair, so you were facing him now, his warm breath now tickling your nose, and you were stunned into silence by how pretty your boyfriend looked when he smirked, long lashes, breathtaking eyes, a lopsided smile that brought out a secret dimple in his cheek. “Hm, what’s the book about?”

“Nothing that would interest you! Just some silly romance I was reading for the sake of it…”

“Silly romance? Because that’s not what I saw.”

Then commenced a staring contest of a few seconds, which you failed miserably, your resolve crumbling quickly and effortlessly under Megumi’s sharp gaze. “Fine!” you slammed your fists against the arm of the chair half-heartedly. “I was reading smut.”

Megumi quirked an eyebrow as you bit your lip. “Rather graphic smut too.” You said nothing as Megumi ran a finger along the seam of your lips, drawing the one you were biting from between your teeth.

Instead of letting you go, as you had expected of your rarely mean, often kind, boyfriend, he leaned forward, and caught your lip between his teeth, hands slipping under your shirt to rest against your stomach, squeezing harshly as he drew you into a messy, filthy kiss.

“Megs! What’re you doing?” you managed to gasp before he swallowed your words in a feverish clash of teeth, his tongue asking gentle entry into your mouth before making you whine as he grabbed handfuls of your ample flesh, fingers grazing over your tits, and Megumi pressed you to the chair, reducing you to whimpers.

“You’ve never been hotter, angel,” Megumi spoke in a timbre so low it was almost a growl, and slightly confused, you broke away with a gasp, breasts aching from the lack of attention they were getting, a string of saliva connecting your mouths.

“Wait, so you just caught me reading smut… and you’re turned on by it?” You asked, squeezing your thighs together.

Megumi fell into the chair beside yours, stroking the back of your hand as he tilted your chin upward to meet his eye. “Absolutely, angel.”

“Ah,” you managed, distracted by the hand that had come to circle your throat, Megumi’s eyes lit with a feral glow. A moment passed before two things came to you; one, that the two of you were in your school’s library, and two, how fucking wet you were, so much so that you were fearful of leaving a stain on the chair beneath you.

“You wanna take a break back in the apartment?” you breathed, wanting actually to climb into Megumi’s lamp, a noticeable bulge in his sweet, sexy, tailored trousers.

“Sure, angel, but I have a condition.”

“What?”

“Read that book to me, aloud.”

Original Work

All reblogs and interactions are appreciated!

Do not plagiarise, copy, or repost my work anywhere.

All characters belong to Gege Akutami.

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #multi character #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #geto smut #geto suguru smut #gojo smut #geto suguru × reader #suguru geto smut #megumi smut #fushiguro megumi smut #megumi fushiguro × reader #megumi fushiguro smut #indulgence central #og

998 notes · View notes

the-delta-42 · 3 years

Text

Off Sick

Marinette picked her bag up as she descended the stairs from her room, she was up early, she had her mask in her pocket and all her homework was done. Nothing could ruin her day.

Marinette halted at the sight of her parents sitting in the living room.

“Everything alright?” Asked Marinette, dread settling in her stomach.

“One of our customers tested positive.” Said her mother, making Marinette groan.

“Really?” Exclaimed Marinette, looking at the ceiling, “On the one day where everything seems to be going alright for me?!”

“Marinette,” Admonished her mother, “They’re in hospital in a critical condition.”

Marinette winced, “Ssssorry?”

Outside, Lila stood staring at the Bakery, reading the notice that the employees and inhabitants of the Bakery were self-isolating. Maybe one of them tested positive. Lila spun on her heel, already knowing that she’d have to tell her classmates. When she entered the class, she immediately spotted Nino and Alya looking put out, while Adrien was frantically applying hand sanitiser and Max and Sabrina readjusting their glasses to prevent them from fogging up. Lila snuck another glance at Nino and Alya, only just noticing how Alya’s glasses were half-way down her face and Nino’s balanced on that little area where his mask didn’t fog them up without them sliding downwards.

“The Bakery is self-isolating.” Said Lila, making everyone look at her, “It’s on their front door.”

“Ha! Maribrat’s got it!” Laughed Chloe, recoiling when she found herself on the receiving end of more than a few glares.

“Chloe, who raised you?” Asked Alix, her mask covering her slack jaw.

“Only the best-”

“So, you’re admitting your parents can’t stand you.” Kim cut Chloe off, making the blonde go silent.

“Just because the Bakery’s self-isolating doesn’t mean that anyone in Marinette’s family has the virus.” Said Adrien, pulling a pair of rubber gloves on.

Everyone looked at Adrien’s appearance.

“The mask and hand sanitiser, I could understand,” Said Nathaniel, his mask bobbing as he spoke, “but, seriously, what’s with the gloves and apron?”

“My father said that if I didn’t wear them, I’d get the virus and die!” Said Adrien, getting a blink from his classmates.

“You know, you should probably see about getting some help.” Said Nathaniel, after a moment.

“Marinette’s not responding to my texts.” Said Alya, frantically looking up and tossing her glasses into the air, “Fuck!”

“I’m sure she’s fine.” Said Ms. Bustier, entering the classroom, “If everyone could get their books out while I set up the remote learning programs.”

Marinette groaned as an Akuma stomped through the city, putting a red and black spotted face mask on and calling her transformation.

Ladybug landed in a crouch, hearing Chat land behind her.

“Ladybug!” Gasped Chat, his black and green paw print mask shifting as he grinned.

“We got another breacher.” Said Ladybug, pulling her yoyo off her hip.

“Did he just blame all this on Asia?” Asked Chat, cocking his head.

“Yeah, it’s actually a very strong sentiment,” Said Ladybug, sighing, “have you seen attacks on Asian people in the states, I heard one guy was left brain dead.”

“Animals.” Scowled Chat, “You can’t blame any one person for this mess. Oh, do you know about the blood plague incident?”

Ladybug dodged a swing from the Akuma, “You mean the thing in World of Warcraft that was a game destroying bug?”

“Yeah, apparently it was used as an example of how to deal with a pandemic.” Said Chat, using his baton to knock the Akuma’s feet from under them, “There was a comment on the video I saw that said something like ‘A few gamers had a better handle of a pandemic than the entirety of the world’s governments’, or something along those lines.”

“Preach.” Said Ladybug, hooking her yoyo around the akumatized object, a bag, and yanked it towards her. Chat clawed the bag, releasing the butterfly. Ladybug quickly caught a purified it, before looking at the victim.

It was a boy their age, he seemed to be following all the guidelines, until he groaned, “Is it over yet?”

“Nope, still in a pandemic.” Said Ladybug, getting a groan from the victim.

“He said he’d make it all go away.” Said the boy, before slowly getting to his feet.

“Everything Hawkmoth says is a lie.” Said Chat Noir, adjusting his staff so it was two metres long, “Milady, random person.”

Chat left the scene, with Ladybug following suit, leaving the victim to look around himself, “Hey, I actually made it to school.”

Marinette scowled at her ceiling, two weeks was a long time, especially when the Kwami of creation was zipping around because Marinette didn’t have any cookies and had given her red bull instead. Tikki had knocked over two lamps, a mannequin and Marinette’s notice board off her wall. She was also talking at a mile-a-minute, leaving Marinette at a loss for what the sprite was saying.

There was a ping on Marinette’s phone, most likely Alya telling her she’s dropped off the homework. Marinette hadn’t responded to any of the texts, she needed to read them and get back to Alya. Marinette decided to close her eyes for a minute.

Marinette woke up to her mother waking her up for school. Internally swearing, Marinette rushed around, collecting her homework, mask and bag, before running out the door. Class had already started when Marinette burst in. Ms. Bustier just looked at her and sighed. Marinette turned to apologise to her classmates, when they all started screaming.

“It’s a ghost!” Screamed Kim, trying to jump out the window.

“Wha- I’m not a ghost!” Said Marinette, before looking around, “Wait, did you guy seriously think I was dead?!”

58 notes · View notes

serahsanguine · 5 years

Text

School, Sex and Subterfuge NC-17

Chapter 4 of ?

part one, part Two, part 3, A03

tagging @today-in-fic @skullsmuldon

***********************************************

Chapter 4; Forbidden But Exhilarating

Mulder had closed the door behind Scully and walked to his desk chair. He was glad she was gone, for now, the urge for kissing her, touching her, was starting to get unbearable. His trousers were uncomfortable and sore. He had never known someone to do this to him. The banter between them, the sexual chemistry bouncing, electrifying the air. His undoing was when she licked her lips, she probably didn’t even know she was doing it. Every time she did so, he wanted to bite it hard then kiss it better and repeat it over and over again till she was swollen and sore.

He had to do something about the pain in his groin, so he slouched down in his chair unzipping himself and removing his raging erection from his boxers. He grabbed some silk lube and placed a small amount on his hand before wrapping it around his cock gently applying pressure at first. Letting his imagination run wild with thoughts of one Dana Scully. Her little hand teasing his skin, her tongue running lines down his skin leaving little trails glistening against the light. Her lips dancing around his tip lavishing him before swallowing him whole. His hand tightened, and more pressure was applied. He knew it wasn’t going to be long now. He felt the fire of an orgasm fast approaching deep within with a few more thoughts of this beautiful redhead in front of him. He erupted like a volcano, screaming her name but it wasn’t her first name that came tumbling from his lips. Oh, no; it was the Scully. When his mind came back to earth he released the sticky white substance covering his hand, the table, the floor, and his top. He quickly and efficiently cleaned himself and the objects around him. Grabbing his coat he left for the night.

Meanwhile, Scully was back at her room. She walked into the darkness finding Serah asleep, which was strange in itself but she could not think about that now. She switched on a small lamp illuminating the room in a soft orange glow. The paper Mulder had handed her still in her hand. She sat on her bed, her back against the wall, legs stretched in front of her: she began to read. She knew already that she was going to agree to the proposition, she fully allowed herself to give into temptation. But it was she still curious to read through and find out the details and small print.

The following are the terms of the contract between the professor and his student. The fundamental purpose of this contract is to allow the Student to explore her sensuality. Both professor and student agree and acknowledge that all that occurs under the terms of this contract will be consensual and confidential. If the student would like to have someone to confide in they are also subject to sign a confidentiality agreement. Furthermore, this is a purely physical relationship, no romance, no friendship. Should the professor choose to terminate the relationship, he can choose so at his own discretion with no prior notice.

Scully kept reading into the early hours, noticing all the details and guidelines. She woke up a few hours later the document still in hand. Her head had slumped on the wall but her back was still against it. She put the papers down and moved off the bed stretching her sore and cramped muscles trying to get some feeling back into them. Once she did so she placed the document into an envelope and put it into her desk drawer for safekeeping. She looked over, finding Serah still asleep, and proceeded to the bathroom. Turning on the shower to as hot as her body could take, she took off her clothes leaving them in a small pile on the floor before stepping in. Letting the hot water run over her body she washed her aches and pains down the drain, letting her worries and expectations go for just a few minutes.

Twenty minutes later Scully was showered and dressed and with a purple towel wrapped around her head. She sat at her desk laptop and started writing an email.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Document

Dear Professor Mulder

I have revised the Document I acquired, I would like to set a date and time to which I can return said document and ask some questions about it.

Yours Sincerely

Dana Scully

Signing off from the computer she dried her hair, leaving it in soft curls while she waited patiently for a reply. Serah got up and changed and they both left to grab some breakfast and coffee.

Thirty minutes later both Serah and Scully were sitting, eating some fruit and pancakes with their two cups of coffee in front of them.

“So how did it go last night?” Serah asked enthusiastically.

“It went alright.”

Serah laughed “Just alright. Really, Dana?” she took a sip of her coffee. “I want details, I want to know everything.”

Scully smirked in response. “He is so handsome, we shared some banter and the sexual energy in the room was electrifying. His eyes are so inviting I suspect they change with his mood. See, last night they were more dark green than hazel.”

Serah looked over at her friend. Her eyes were clear crystal blue while she remembered the night before. “What was the document you tried to hide this morning?”

“I um…” Scully was very flustered, she hadn’t realised her friend was awake when she put the paper in her desk earlier this morning.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to tell anyone.” She took a bite of her breakfast “I have slpen well,” she said with a mouth full. Scully gave her a raised eyebrow. Serah finished chewing and corrected herself. “What I was trying to say was, I haven’t been sleeping well so I was aware of what you were doing but not awake enough to do anything about it.”

“Well, he gave me a non-disclosure agreement, to read and sign with the conditions of what the proposal of his will entail. He was quite tactful if I must say. A big thing for me was it said I could tell one person but they also must sign a separate non-disclosure agreement.”

“Is that person me?”

“Why, yes, silly. Otherwise, I have just broken the agreement already.” Scully took a sip of her coffee and stared at Serah while she was talking.

“So, you have signed it then?”

Just in that moment, Scully’s phone went off saying she had received an email. She took the phone off the table and opened her email account. It read;

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re Document

Dear Miss Scully

I am so glad you have read over the Document provided, we can meet today at 8:30 p.m. to discuss this further. I look forward to seeing you.

Yours Sincerely

F. W. Mulder

P.s. I would like to know what the K stands for

Scully smiled at reading the last part of the email and she quickly replied.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re Re Document

Dear Professor Mulder

Thank you for agreeing a time, I also look forward to seeing you tonight. You’re going to have to do some investigating ;) to find out what the K stands for. While we are on the subject of mysterious names I would like to know what the F stands for :)

Yours Sincerely

Dana Scully

Scully put her phone on the table and looked up Serah who was smiling from ear to ear.

“That’s him, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Well, he’s certainly done a number on you, hasn’t he? You look like you just entered a candy store for the first time!”

“I do not!” Scully was frustrated at how her excitement was showing through to her friend.

“Yes, you do. You’re smitten, might as well admit it now.”

They both finished on breakfast and took their coffee’s to go. Serah left Scully just before their first lecture: she had art and Scully had science. Scully sat down in her normal spot and her phone went off.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re Re Re Document.

Dear Miss Scully

I think we're both going to do have to do some investigating.

Yours Sincerely

F.W. Mulder.

Scully put her phone away as her lecture started.

*******************************

Some hours later. Scully was standing in her room with several outfits laid in front of her on the bed, Serah standing eagerly by her side. Scully had tried so many different outfits and they both agreed nothing seemed to quite fit the meeting that was planned.

Scully stood there in her underwear after just taking off her sixth top and seventh pair of jeans. She was truly out of ideas on what to do next. That was until Serah brought out one of her outfits: some dark black skinny jeans and a wine red halter-neck top and matching heels. Serah looked at the time and they still had about an hour left, so they set out doing Scully hair and makeup.

Scully sat in front of the vanity mirror in the room, and Serah got to work.

“I’m still not sure about the outfit you have picked out”

“You will be fine, Dana. It’s going to make you look so sexy! And when I have finished your hair you’re going to look drop down jaws.” Serah started to brush her hair and place it up in a small bun at the nape of her neck.

“I will just look a mess, the outfits always look better on you anyway.”

“You doubt yourself too much, Dana; any man or woman would be lucky to have such a beautiful woman as you on their arms.”

Scully started blushing at the mention of her friend giving her compliments. She knew her friend was bisexual but she never outright placed her views on her, she gave her compliment, sure, but she had never been so forward before.

“Thank you, Serah.”

One hour later, Scully was standing in front of Serah wearing the outfit and the colours matched her skin tone and hair perfectly. Serah had pinned Scully’s hair in place but left some small strands curled, framing her face. She had gone subtle with the makeup, just a slight golden beige eyeshadow, and very natural foundation but with a deep red lipstick.

“How do I look?”

“You look incredible, Dana”

Scully could swear she saw in her friend an irrepressible urge to kiss her. She was biting her lip so hard that Dana thought she was going to hurt herself.

“Are you sure? You don’t think we have gone overboard?

“No, Dana, honestly. He’s so lucky.”

“Thank you, Serah. For everything, you have done for me. I’ve got to get going or I’m going to be late.”

“It was my pleasure. Now, get going before you back out.”

She walked across the campus and towards Mulder’s office. Once she arrived there, she hesitated a little and then knocked quietly with the document in hand.

Mulder opened to door. He stood there in dark sand coloured Khaki trousers and an off white shirt. Scully looked up at him: his face was framed by some glasses, making her think that he looked quite cute in them. She had never seen him in glasses before, probably he usually wore lenses, and she realized how hot those glasses looked on him.

Mulder looked upon the beautiful redhead standing in front of him. Her pale skin was glistening in the fluorescent light, her mouth wide open. She looked fantastic in that deep wine red halter neck, which set off her fiery red hair; and the black Jeans curving her waist made her legs look long and beautiful. Scanning her down he also noticed some red open toe Sandal heels with burgundy red nail polish. Mulder looked back up her body memorizing every aspect of her. That was when he looked in her eyes: her makeup really setting off her ocean blue eyes.

He gestured for her to come inside. As she followed his invitation he couldn't help but stare at the swell of her ass. God those Jeans really do her some justice. Instead of her sitting in the chair in front of his desk, she sat on the black leather sofa. She took the document out of the envelope and placed it on her lap. She looked so nervous but also excited. This kind of thing was forbidden but exhilarating. He closed the door behind him and walked towards her. He was usually quite calm, but with her, he felt different. He couldn’t even decide where to sit; should he sit on the chair in front of his desk? Or should he sit on the sofa next to her?

In the end, he decided to sit on the sofa next to her. Neither knew where to start or who should go first they were being a little shy about the situation. After about 5 minutes Mulder took the plunge and decided to speak first.

“Did you find anything that needs to be explained or any inferences that need to be amended?”

“No, everything was pretty clear: I've chosen the person I wish to confide: her name is Serah Hill, she's my roommate and also attends your class. She is willing to set a date and time to which she is to sign the document.”

“That’s great news, thank you. I will email you tomorrow with a set time for her to come to the office. Does this mean you have signed the agreement?” Mulder asked sheepishly not looking directly in Scully's eyes, just in case she said no.

Scully brought her hand to his cheek and moved his face so he could look at her. His face felt rough and smooth, his 5 o'clock shadow starting to form on his skin. She looked at his face studying it, marking every blemish and line for future reference. He had a kind face and kind eyes. She looked at the glasses which made him look professional but slightly dorky. They really suited him, making him look extra cute and sexy. She moved her hand away from his cheek and took his glasses in her hand placing them to one side. She could see his breathing had started to become more uneven, his hazel eyes still fixed on her blue ones.

She had never been so forward before but right at that moment, she could feel the energy in the room shift. All she wanted to do was kiss him. The urge was inevitable. She brought her face to his. He seemed to pick up the notion of what was about to happen and they meet in the middle. Their lips met and an explosion of electricity sparked between them, they deepened the kiss, her tongue licking his lip asking for permission to be invited in. He obligated by opening his mouth to her and letting her tongue slide against his. Their tongues started slipping, sliding, dancing on their own accord.

He tasted of Chilli chocolate, and she tasted of strawberries and cream. She pulled back for him and looked at the man in front of her: his eyes looked dark, hooded and full of desire. She smiled at him and he smiled back.

“Does that answer your question, professor Mulder?” her voice sultry and seductive.

“Yes, Miss Scully. I do believe I got my answer.” his reply was hot and heavy.

She moved from her place and straddled his lap instantly, finding how much he did desire her. She pulled him closer, her hands undoing every button on his shirt, leaving it lose and his bare chest exposed. She didn't want to think about the consequences, she just wanted to let go of all inhibitions. To be free and finally seek the man she had been lusting over.

Her lips found his sweet spot behind his ear. She kissed and she nibbled before she ran her tongue from his collarbone up his neck. His skin was salty but with a hint of him. His smell was sweet but very manly: she thought it might be some kind of Armani. But whatever it was, it suited him very much.

She stopped devouring his neck after a couple of minutes and with a feather light touch, she grazed her fingernails down the skin of his chest and stomach. She had been waiting to touch his muscles ever since she caught that quick glimpse of him that very first time in the gym. His body was a work of art, perfectly sculpted. She worked her hand down until she found his zip. She took herself off him and placed herself in between his legs. She hadn’t a clue what had come over her but he was fast becoming a drug that she could easily get addicted to. She lowered his trousers from his hips and left them at his ankle, while he removed the unbuttoned shirt and threw it to one side.

His breathing was so erratic now, it was coming in small pants. He sat there and suddenly all his dreams and fantasies of this woman were becoming true. His heart was pumping ten to the dozen, it felt like it was going to bounce right out of his chest. His skin was on fire, her every touch igniting it, sending goosebumps along every inch of it. Her eyes were no longer an ocean blue, they were darker, a more electric blue or even navy. He was starting to lose all focus when one hand cupped his balls through his boxers, she lightly squeezed over and over again while her tongue and teeth nibbled and licked each nipple, giving them both same attention.

They locked lips and he felt every bit of her passion: it was dangerous and uninhibited; so primitive and reckless. Her hand moved to the waistband of his boxers, gliding on the edge if it before slowly and methodically lowering them down his legs. She undid his shoes and took them off placing them to one side, then the trousers were followed by his boxers.

“You said I need to do a little investigating, to find out what the F stand for in your name,” she said with a divine manner.

She knelt in between his legs placing her soft hand around his girth slowly stroking it up and down. He didn’t know what was happening, he didn’t know where he was but one thing he did know: the prettiest woman on the planet was stroking him, he was so hard and red and throbbing for her touch. With her every touch, his cock twitched of its own accord. She lowered her lips to his tip licking the rim before swallowing him whole, she hollowed her cheeks and started sucking the dear life out of it before moving her tongue around his girth, back and forth. She moved her hand up and down at his base squeezing lightly. She could hear the deep and throaty moans of the man above her. Suddenly, she stopped and removed her lips and mouth from him.

“So, Professor Mulder, what does the F stand for?” she tactfully asked in a low voice.

Her voice was like liquid gold to his ears. Her mouth may have stopped working on his appendage but that didn’t mean she had. Her hand was still sliding from root to tip at an agonisingly slow pace. He just about managed to stutter out the word ‘Fox’.

“Fox,” Scully repeated, and hearing his first name upon her lips made him explode and shatter into a million pieces. The wave of euphoria hit him so hard and fast, it was like atoms colliding against each other. It was bigger and glorious than any he had ever had before. His eyes were closed but he saw stars dancing underneath his eyelids.

Scully moved from the floor onto the sofa next to him. Waiting for him to come back to reality. She watched as his eyelids fluttered and his breathing went from erratic to steady and calm. Shadows of light fluttered on his skin.

He opened his eyes to find her staring at him, he grabbed her by the hips and lowered her back against the cushions. Now she was underneath him, he had a much better angle for what he wanted to do to her. He soon realised that she had too many clothes on for his liking, though he wanted it to be a game of sorts, making her beg and squirm, bringing her on the brink of euphoria and screaming his name, before releasing her from her torment.

He started kissing her lips. His hands were in her hair which felt like silk thread gliding through his fingers. He soon moved his hand to the straps off her top, undoing them and pulling them away from her neck. He slightly tugged at her top pulling it down so it lay on her stomach. He stopped kissing her momentarily to see her breast exposed: she wasn't wearing a bra. They were free, her pink rosy taut pebbled nipples standing on point. He licked his lips, she was like a version of the beautiful Goddess Aphrodite sent in human form.

His kissed her again, but soon moved to the crook of her neck kissing and nibbling, it sounded like she was purring. He licked his way down her bare chest finding her nipple. His teeth latched on to it, sucking it hard before gently teasing it with his tongue. The course from pleasure to pain was overriding all rational thought from her, her purring turned into soft moans, her breathing uncontrolled and heavy. His hand slowly worked its way down her iron flat stomach undoing the button of her jean's, gently teasing her with his hand over her but going no further. His lips moved to her other breast, first latching on and then teasing with his tongue. As he let it go, he blew cold air onto it. It sent her skin into a river of goosebumps from head to toe.

Scully's pain to pleasure threshold was decreasing with every swipe of his tongue. She was so incredibly damp now. The desire building and building and he hadn't even touched her in the most sensible part. She had started to wiggle and squirm. He looked up at her with a devil smile across his face. Finally, she was going to get what she wanted. Her jeans and pants were soon discarded amongst their other belongings on the floor. He lifted her up only to swivel her lower body so it was hanging over the sofa. She felt shy about being so exposed and open to him. But he soon made her relax by brushing his forefinger up and down the inside of her leg. He did it again but instead of his finger, he used a feather he seemly got out of nowhere. He brushed it up her left leg in short bursts; and after every short burst, he kissed her working his way up to her core. He then did the same with her right leg. But this time he brushed it along her hip bone, just above her pubic bone on the rim of her lace panties, before agonizingly slow gliding her panties down her legs. All she could think was he’s finally going to touch me and release me from my torment!

He could smell her now, all worked up. She smelt divine, like cherry blossom in the midst of spring. He fingers glided along her wet folds: she was helplessly wet. He could hear her moans and whimpers and frustration of wanting to be touched on her clit. He wanted to make her beg and scream his name when she came, so he slid one finger into her tight and succulent tunnel, she gripped his finger like a vice.

“Please Mulder… oh god please,” she was begging for him. Her voice low and timid.

Exactly what he was aiming at.

“Now, Miss Scully, I need to do some investigating of my own.” He pulled his finger, nearly all the way out before sliding it hot and heaving back into her, blowing cold air on her clit. He did this a couple of times before he spoke again. “I would like to know what the K stands for in your name.”

She shook her head she couldn’t think straight let alone speak correct sentences. He put another finger in and plugged hard into her, making her back arch and a high pitch moan come out of her. He then latched again onto her nipple. He knew she was close, he could feel it, hear it; but he wanted answers. Payback was always fun when done right.

“Now, Miss Scully, I will let you cum when you tell me what the K stands for.”

“K...K….K.. Katherine.” With the name spoken he put his tongue on her clit, creating her name with it, possibly drawing a picture with it. She didn’t know and she really didn’t care because it felt like magic. He pumped his fingers in and out and finally, she screamed his name, her walls clenching around him, pulling him in further and further. He had never wanted to be inside her more than he did in that moment. His hot and swollen erection was pushing against his stomach dying for attention.

With her back against the back of the sofa and her legs spread in front of him, he leaned over her, placing one hand next to her head on the back of the sofa for support, and with his other hand slipping himself into her opening. Her back arched again, she still hadn’t caught her breath and her body was still twitching uncontrollably but he couldn't wait any longer. She had an effect on him like no other woman he had ever known. Having her in front of him was better than anything he could have imagined. Feeling her, her wet skin against his. To feel himself inside her, feeling her nails rake against his back. It was overpowering.

Once inside her, he placed his other hand on the back of the sofa using it as leverage. She wrapped her legs around him and he rocked his hips back and forth. He brought himself all the way out, his tip the only thing left inside her, and then plunged hot and heavy back in again. He did this over and over, faster every time. She was so sweet and tight, so divine and delicious. He filled her up to the max. The feeling was so foreign yet warmingly familiar. He knew she was on the brink of orgasm again: he could feel her whole body tense up and clutch him, swelling him in deeper. He moved one hand down towards her clit letting his fingers explore it while his hips did the magic. It only took a few minutes before he heard the word ‘Mulder’ flow from her lips and it sent him into the euphoric state along with her. Like two atoms exploding furiously against each other, so explosive and exhilarating a bond was formed that no one could break. Exhausted, he rested his head in the crock of her neck the forming of two unions finally complete.

They lay there spent for a few minutes, catching their breath, their bodies still linked. Mulder looked at her dreamy sky blue eyes.

“I must be crushing you.”

“I quite like it, actually.” He could tell she meant it, but he moved anyway.

“You're beautiful.” The words kind of plopped out of his mouth before his mind had time to catch up. He started gathering his clothes.

Scully grabbed her clothes and started putting them on, peace by peace. She blushed, suddenly going shy around him, not knowing what to say or do

“Thank you,” she managed to say.

“I should be thanking you.” Scully looked at him confused, he had just put on his boxers and trousers. “For agreeing on this,” he clarified.

She smiled in response, the room suddenly becoming tense.

“I should go, will you email Serah so she can sign the document?”

“Yes, of course.”

She finally finished dressing and grabbed her coat before quickly leaving the office.

Mulder did not get a chance to say goodbye, he was left stunned, the silence of the room overwhelming him. He was left with two burning questions left unanswered:

Just because he had enjoyed it, had she?

Would she regret signing the contract?

*******************************************************

Quick Note

this will be the last chapter for at least 2 weeks, I'm going to see All About Eve at the end of this week so I decided to take a small break.

Thank you for reading, as always I appreciate your feedback good or bad.

#mulder and scully #Fox Mulder #Dana Scully #school sex and subterfuge #New Chapter #fanfiction #AU fanfiction #college au #The X-Files

59 notes · View notes

verdantstylus · 5 years

Text

“How/Why Am I Not ‘Harajuku’ Enough?”- Notes On Harajuku Fashion

I swear people gon @ me for this... But anyways. Long post ahead regarding harajuku fashion.

This post contains what may be controversial to some of you. Or maybe what is considered “elitist” thinking to some.

Some harajuku walk veterans do believe that the style standards here are not as good as the ones in Japan. And I have to agree. The overall standard of harajuku fashion here in SG has been dropping and this post is going to attempt to explain why.

Here are the facts:

People, especially newcomers, aren’t dressing harajuku enough

The people who are aren’t coming as often anymore

Fact 1: people aren’t dressing harajuku enough.

Harajuku fashion can be very avant garde, it can be very outrageous and bright and honestly makes you stick out A Lot. But while it is bright and OTT, harajuku fashion has its fair share of simpler, more minimal styles.

Now, there is no issue when people pick the more minimal styles and come to the walk, it is a part of the fashion and should be embraced as much as the OTT styles. However the issue here is that many SG walkers don’t understand or don’t care about doing research into what Japanese fashion is like.

Japanese fashion has a few elements to it which makes it distinct from western styles. This can be seen quite clearly in the OTT styles, but when it comes to the more minimal styles, it gets hard to really see. Which is why walkers have shown up in fashion that is more costume than harajuku and many don’t realise it or think is appropriate.

Here’s the part where people May feel called out.

For example, people have shown up to fashion walks in:

cat ears and tails and all black

Black anime shirt/Japanese print shirt and pleated skirt/shorts with high socks.

Casual cosplay

Normal clothes with One sometimes stereotypical Japanese element (usually a seifuku collar)

All of these are paired with either cosplay makeup or completely normal daily makeup

So going down the list:

all black and cat ears, even if it’s the expensive cat ear headphones, is not harajuku enough. Why? Because you could wear the exact same outfit to a Halloween party and still get away with it. Wearing fast fashion black t-shirts and skirts is not harajuku, it’s not even particularly Japanese. I’m fact it’s a rather reductive way of thinking of Japanese fashion and (I’m really saying this) it’s lazy. I’ll explain more later.

Wearing something with a Japanese print on it does not make you automatically harajuku. It’s still a black t shirt with a pleated skirt or shorts. Again, it’s a very reductive way of thinking about Japanese fashion and not enough research was done into it.

We’ve stated it so many times. Casual cosplay is still cosplay. Because at its heart you are Being A Character. Not Wearing A Fashion. The point of the harajuku walks is self expression through Japanese and harajuku street styles. It’s not another excuse to wear cosplay in a public space. And No not everything Japanese is “basically the same thing” it’s like saying a crab and a dolphin are “basically the same” because the both live underwater.

Similar to the Japanese printed t-shirts, a Single Japanese element does not necessarily mean you are in harajuku fashion. And of all things, picking a seifuku can come off as cliche when not done right.

Okay Long Explanation Time.

Some may call this gatekeeping or elitism but as someone who genuinely cares so much about fashion and particularly harajuku fashion, it pains me to see it reduced to a single thought of “if I wear one thing Japanese means I am in Japanese fashion”. No, wearing one thing Japanese just means you are wearing one thing that’s Japanese. And it does not matter how much effort you put into buying this one Japanese thing, not wearing it in a harajuku enough manner basically cancels all your effort because to people who Do know the fashion, it’s seen as lazy.

I really hope people see that! It really comes off as lazy or badly executed if you’re not dressed harajuku enough.

I find the seifukus especially bad because it's honestly just screaming "this is what i think japanese girls are like!" and that's honestly degrading (and kind of racist?)

“But when I see the Tokyo Fashion Instagram, I see people in normal clothes”

Well. Not really.

Japanese fashion can have a lot of nuance to it, and to a newcomer or someone who does not really look closely at every element of the outfit, the details can be lost or mistranslated.

Fact 2: the people who dress best aren’t coming anymore

And this is linked to Fact 1. As a person who has been coming to walks for years, and as someone who knows others who have left, it’s not entirely because of scheduling issues.

It’s because it’s disheartening to come to a walk wearing a style that you love and cherish and to see other walkers dressed in something akin to costumes or in basic normal clothing.

It’s disheartening to see more and more people appear in non-harajuku fashion and be too ignorant or too proud of their looks to realise that it’s really missing the mark.

So we stop coming. We stop having hope in the walks. We stop thinking that it’s a place for the people who Love Japanese street fashion can come and meet.

And it’s greatly saddening to see.

Another related issue is that most of the Photographers don’t seem to get what harajuku fashion is either and start taking pics of Anyone who happens to be standing around nearby, whether appropriately dressed or not. And that’s encouraging more people to show up underdressed more for the sake of being photographed than for the sake of loving the style.

And some of these Photographers genuinely think they are entitled to do what they want because they show up with a camera. And this can get especially irritating when Photographers stop every 5 minutes and take a bunch of walkers for photos when we are trying to keep to schedule and Not Lose Anyone along the way.

The walk will survive without the extra Photographers. If it were just the committee taking photos, we’d be fine. The walk will not, however, survive without the walkers who are dressed truly harajuku.

So how do we solve this?

As a guideline, these are elements to look at when viewing Japanese fashion, and when you look at your own outfits, you can see how it can be improved.

Japanese street fashion often contains one or more of these elements, mixed and matched to form unique styles.

remake or upcycled vintage fashion

unconventional garment pairing, including layering clothes and accessories.

Unconventional colour pairing

colour blocking using single or dual colours

Overloading colours

Unique small details like special trims or embellishments for clothing, or unique accessories

Unconventional methods of wearing garments

Oddly sized or proportioned garments and accessories

Elements of Deconstruction (in which garments seem or are cut apart and put back together in new ways)

Harajuku fashion is about self expression, yes, but it’s also a distinctly Japanese fashion style, born on the streets of Tokyo. With the introduction of fast fashion, the styles that were once common in Harajuku are slowly disappearing. But it’s not gone, it’s evolving into something new and perhaps still unnamed.

But it is still very distinctly Japanese. Styling your outfits according to the guidelines presented above will get you closer to Japanese street style than just doing what Looks Sort Of Right and not doing further research.

I genuinely hope the people who read this understand that and actually dress more in Japanese street styles for the HFW. And I really do hope to see more people in truly, distinctly Japanese styles.

tldr: pls pay attention to what is harajuku or Japanese street fashion and don’t go and grab the first vaguely stereotypically Japanese thing you see.

Ps. this fashion blog is open to asks and submits. Literally ask me and I can answer. Don’t be scared or too proud to ask. Because if you are you might end up as one of the people I talked about up there.

#harajuku #harajuku fashion #harajuku fashion walk #fashion rant #harajuku style #verdant thoughts

6 notes · View notes

jasbirjohn-hyperfrontal · 5 years

Text

How to Create Impactful Personal Projects - Featuring the Ratirahasya

Among some of my personal projects, the one that made the most impact was a project called the Ratirahasya. I had sold a considerable number of prints from the project and it also generated a good amount of activity on my social media.

In today’s social media era, personal projects are as important as having a steady flow of clients. Personal projects do not just keep the artist/ photographer inspired and motivated, but also keeps the work-flow going and is a great opportunity to experiment with concepts and ideas. As a fine art photographer, I am always investing time and a small budget on personal projects - and whatever I create is usually put on sale to make some passive income from selling prints. Here are some guidelines that I personally follow when planning, executing, and pushing out the project:

You are going to hear and read this a lot from me: Be identifiable for a certain type of work.

There are many YouTubers out there that say that you should never niche yourself to one type of photography. While this may be true for beginners and true-formed freelancers who would take up anything and everything that comes their way, as you progress in your career, you as photographer become a brand and whatever you output is your product. Different types of brands require different methods of advertising and marketing to sell their products to their target consumers. You are one brand and if there is no commonality among your products you become a very confusing brand that will not be identifiable to anyone. In other words, you will not have a target audience. It is a business at the end of the day and as Gary Vaynerchuk said, running a business is not about how much money you make today, it is about how the business can sustain in the long-run. By not establishing your identity as a particular type of photographer, you have no base audience and you cannot formulate an advertising or marketing strategy to grow that base.

When you have an identity as a particular type of photographer it becomes easier to narrow down what exactly your personal project is going to be like because you would want the project to benefit you and be a valuable investment both by effort and finances. If you produce a series of work that does not connect with your current audience what you have done is basically disconnect yourself from your current base to create a new one. It makes no difference.

When I was planning the Ratirahasya, I was already known for conceptual work and my audience knew that this was going to be another conceptual series of pictures already. One can argue that delivering work that is expected lacks creativity and the element of surprise for an audience which in turn is also stagnation. This is not necessarily true because when you work within your interests and strengths constantly, you get the opportunity to improve on them. The golden rule of content creation is that you are always a student and there is always something new you can learn even if it is within your usual scope of content. Since this is a personal project and not something you are creating for a client, you get to afford poetic license to experiment with your skills and push your boundaries to deliver a project that exceeds expectations of you as an artist and photographer but still remains within the scope of interest that your audience follows you for.

The Ratirahasya is a medieval Indian sex manual written by a poet known as Kokkoka. I am an avid reader and I enjoy medieval themes. I also collect books as a hobby (I have books dating back to the 1600s in my personal library). Despite still being widely read today, the manual is often criticized to be a sexist and incredibly washed down version of the Karmasutra. As an artist with liberal values, I knew that I had the skill sets to challenge the archaic contents of the manual. Thus, I took on the Ratirahasya.

When you find a theme you can relate with, you are able to create an impactful project by: i. Investing Effort better

Since it was a manual (book) and its contents provoked me, I was able to stay motivated while putting in the countless hours of research. I read the manual, its other variations and as many literary critiques as possible of the manual. This research process took slightly more than a month to complete.

ii. Not letting the Interest Fade away

Had I not been fully immerse into my interest of working with such a theme would I have been able to dedicate an entire month of reading up? No, it would have been torture. Admittedly, there have been projects that I had planned out but were never executed because somewhere along the way, the interest just faded - a dangerous place to be for an artist in general. The last thing you want to do is hype yourself up so much that when it is time to put in the grind, everything comes crashing and burning down because you lacked interest. This is going to affect your performance outside of just planning personal projects too.

iii. Ultimately Connecting with your Audience

If your project has all of your heart and mind invested into it, it will definitely show. This is a point on sincerity - you should not be creating a project just for the sake of pushing something out on social media. People today are far more emotionally intelligent than when Instagram first appeared. They can smell the stench of insincerity from a mile away.

When you pick the right theme, you are essentially stacking the row of dominoes right because then you have a naturally beautiful chain of events leading up to your audience accepting your project.

One of the most essential processes in my workflow is creating storyboards for projects I, either, am commissioned for, or, are just my own personal projects. A storyboard is a infallible way of ensuring you know what you want to create. For the Ratirahasya, I had created a storyboard as point-form instructions for myself that I used as my base reference to help me create the pictures I wanted. I added questions as footnotes below each point to clear the clutter in my head on why the pictures were going to be created in the way I had envisioned them. Here’s an example: 3.) Subjects are holding hands and staring straight into the camera. - up-front is boring, how to make this interesting? Long exposure with some camera shake?

A storyboard literally translates to having a plan. Unfortunately, it does not seem to be a popular process among many young photographers today despite being a process that many professionals swear by. On shoot day it serves as a guide and allows you to make the most out of your project and when pitching the idea to potential collaborators it can serve as a detailed presentation.

Planning a budget is done in the intermediate stages when planning your overall project. You already have the theme and your storyboard on paper, what remains now is the logistics. The stronger your budget the better your logistics, and, the more detailed your breakdown the stronger your budget will be. Here is my budget breakdown for the Ratirahasya:

i.) Talent Cost: 2 pax x $100 x 3 hours

ii.) Studio Cost: $55 x 3 hours

iii.) BTS Videographer Cost: $150

iv.) Props Cost: NIL

v.) F&B Cost: $50

vi.) Misc./ Stand-by: $50

Total Cost: $1015

This seems like a hefty cost for a personal project, however, you need to first ask yourself if you will be making the money back. Due to the fact that I put most of my projects out for sale and recover back my investment, I am able to set a budget like that. Also, the Ratirahasya was shot at a time when I did not have my own studio space yet which has since lower my costs significantly.

This, of course, is not the case for everyone and I definitely do not encourage anyone to spend beyond their means especially on personal projects. There are, however, 3 main areas that I am of the opinion that every photographer should spend a little extra on if they want to produce a project that has impact:

i) Talent

The right kind of talent (collaborators) would know how to perform and to what extent to commit to your project, however, such talent does not come at free of cost. I personally pin a lot of expectations on my collaborators and so I know if I want them to perform for me I need to pay them.

In addition, I tend to want to keep the directorial say to myself mostly because the project is being driven by a storyboard planned by me which is of a theme that connected with me. Therefore, by paying the talents I work with, a professional tone is set and it makes it less awkward in moments when I have to (verbally) push the talent to perform.

Also, an abstract or conceptual theme can be physically and mentally demanding for talents. There needs to be fair exchange between you and your talent whereby it should be natural that if a talent is willing to put in the effort for you, you would need to reward that effort. Fairness goes a long way and as you progress more talents will want to work with you.

ii) Second-shooter or Behind-the-Scenes Photographer/ Videographer

One of the most effective social media marketing methods for an artist or photographer is putting out interesting behind-the-scenes content. There is only so much that your audience will read or hear about your project and, therefore, sometimes showing tells a more effective story. One of the most famous examples of this is Peter Lindbergh’s Instagram account that is mostly a collection behind-the-scenes pictures and videos from his projects.

With plenty of content to use, it is a great way to hype your project before eventually launching it on whichever preferred social media platform you use. I have only recently started investing in this because, as with many other photographers, budget constraints kept me from hiring a second-shooter. There is really no guide anyone can provide as to when you should start investing in a second-shooter because this entirely depends on the financial health of your photography business. I am on to my sixth year of running my own business and it is only up-till recently that I could afford hiring.

Before I had the financial strength to hire a second-shooter, I resorted to collect behind-the-scenes content on my own. It is tedious to shoot your main and behind-the-scenes content simultaneously, however, the rewards are assuring. Just as a good budget affords you a higher quality project, you going the extra mile to collect content makes for more opportunity to engage with your audience. It is worth the effort.

One of the biggest detriments to your photography career is stagnation. Never, ever, ever, ever… be stagnant. A lot of my critics often suggest that I have no clients and I only shoot my own projects. While this is not true, I see no worth in responding to them because a personal project is still work and at the end of the day projects like the Ratirahasya have gone on to make me comfortable returns.

A lot of my projects have had sequels and in the process of doing so, I created a continuum of photographic series that has now become my identity. I always tell myself that I have invested too much effort, money and time to stop all of it. If I, at the stage of my career, am not bothered about critics and am still putting in the same amount of commitment into personal projects as I did from six years ago, what is stopping you?

The crux of whatever I have written in this article can be summarized as that nothing should stop you from creating what you want provided you are careful about your brand and finances, and, when equipped with fairness, the right mindset and professionalism your personal project too can be impactful. So, how about we end this article inspired and motivated to start working on either your first or next personal project?

End of Article.

0 notes

type2diabetestreatments-blog · 7 years

Text

Ask D'Mine: Alternate Testing Sites, Bolus Timing for Exercise

New Post has been published on http://type2diabetestreatment.net/diabetes-mellitus/ask-dmine-alternate-testing-sites-bolus-timing-for-exercise/

Ask D'Mine: Alternate Testing Sites, Bolus Timing for Exercise

Diabetes is complicated... Just look at today's post header! If you weren't a PWD, would you have any idea what that meant? No wonder we never run out of questions!

And thank goodness for that, we say here at Ask D'Mine, our weekly quirky diabetes advice column, hosted by veteran type 1, diabetes author and community educator Wil Dubois.

Need help navigating life with diabetes? Email us at [email protected]

Kayla from Alabama, type 2 writes: I have a Freestyle Lite meter, but my fingers are getting really sore. I do alternate fingers, but I have no clue of where a good spot would be to test as an alternative. Any suggestions of where to get an accurate reading without too much pain?

Wil@Ask D'Mine answers: Diabetes isn't supposed to hurt. Actually, it's too bad it doesn't, because if it hurt when we didn't keep our blood sugar in control, we'd all be doing a lot better job!

But if your fingers are sore, there's a 90% chance that you're not pricking them right. So let me run though my sore finger checklist with you:

First, is the clear cap on the lancing device? The reason I ask is that the Freestyle lancing devices have two caps, one clear, and one either solid grey or solid blue. The solid cap is your fingerstick cap and the clear cap is your "alternate site" cap. Alternate sites, such as forearms, require deeper stabs by the lancing needle, so the clear cap is designed for deep stabs. If you use the clear cap on your fingertip it will always hurt like hell.

Next, there's a little wheel with numbers on it. In your case, they're 1 through 4. Some lancing devices run 1 to 8. Anyway, the higher the number the deeper the stab. The lower the number, the shallower the stab. The idea is to get a Goldilocks "just right" stab that's not too deep nor too shallow. Too shallow is detected by much finger milking and praying under your breath (please God, give me some blood, I don't want to have to stab myself again). Too deep is detected by significant use of language typical of sailors. So you should be able to easily get a small blood drop with a gentle squeeze, with little to no pain, and no swearing. Unless you just like to frickin' swear, damn it.

Be sure to hold the device against your finger with a steady pressure. If you sometimes mash it to the bone and other times hold it so it barley touches the skin, you'll never get the right number.

Play around with the bull's-eye. Some folks lance the center pad of their finger. Others the tippy-top, others still, the side. Any of those are fine, and most people find some areas more sensitive than others. Do not get a favorite finger (it'll be overused!), and be warned that for most people, the pinkie seems to be more pain-prone than the other fingers. I always find myself swearing when I prick my little finger.

Oh. Wait. I swear all the time anyway, don't I?

Now, the lancing needles that come in the device vary in size. The larger the number, or gauge, the smaller the needle. In theory, smaller needles hurt less, but they also get dull faster and need to be changed more often. The good folks at LifeScan recently introduced a new frontier in small needles with the ultra-thin Delica.

Speaking of which...When was the last time you changed your lancing needle? Oh really? Last year when you changed your smoke detector batteries? OK, here's the deal, the folks that make the needles tell you to change them every time you test, but that's not really necessary. On the other side of the coin, some of us are overly lazy about replacing them. After all, it takes so long to do (not). My advice is to change the needle when you notice it's starting to hurt you, bearing in mind that done right, this whole finger-stabbing thing shouldn't be hurting very much at all in the first place!

If all of those things check out, and you still have sore fingers, then you're in the 10% of people who just have super-sensitive fingers, and, yeah, you might need to use an alternate site. You should first try your upper palm, upstream from your thumb. Next, most folks prefer the forearm.

But be warned, it isn't that alternate sites aren't accurate, it's just that they're old news. The blood sugar there doesn't really reflect the level of glucose in the blood that's keeping the lights on in your head. This can be dangerous if your blood sugar is dropping rapidly.

Imagine the scene. You get that the-elevator-cables-just-snapped feeling. Your hands are a little shaky. You check your blood sugar. It seems fine, so you duck outside in your undies really quickly to grab the morning newspaper and wake up lying on the ground (still in your undies) surrounded by fireman and paramedics.

This kind of thing happens more often than you'd think. Just ask the next fireman you bump into.

Even the folks who make the meters have small print in their user guides that warns "be sure to not use alternate sites if you suspect hypoglycemia and don't sue us if you wake up in your undies surrounded by firemen," or words to that effect.

My feeling? We're creatures of habit in the best of circumstances, and when our blood sugar is dropping we're most definitely not in the best of circumstances. When the shit hits the fan, we tend to fall back on our established habits. If using an alternate site is your habit, then you'll do it the one time you really shouldn't.

And that can be dangerous.

Luke from Ireland, type 1, writes: I was diagnosed with type one just over 6 weeks ago. I am 18 and have just started college. I love to exercise and due to my schedule I tend to to exercise at around 7:00 p.m., usually halving my fast-acting insulin with my dinner two hours previous. I have noticed as I've increased the intensity of my workout that my BG is normal straight after exercise, so I will then have an apple. But later my BG is very high. I have been afraid to bolus for these highs so close to bed in case of going low during the night. How long after I exercise should I wait to take a correction bolus?

Wil@Ask D'Mine answers: So you're asking me how long after the barn burns down that you should wait to let the horse out? Is that it?

Sorry, I shouldn't be so snarky, I know you're new to the family. Here's the deal: You're off to a great start, and you understand that your workout could lower your blood sugar. The problem is that you're compensating for it twice. First you're under-bolusing your dinner, and then you aren't bolusing at all for your snack. That's putting way too many carbs in your system with no insulin to get rid of them. Which is why you're needing corrections by bedtime.

The question shouldn't be when to take your correction, but how to avoid needing a correction in the first place. That's the name of the game. (Oh, and before everyone flames me in comments, of course, corrections are part and parcel of juggling insulin, carbs, and life. BUT, if you need a correction at the same time everyday, you've got a therapy problem that needs to be fixed.)

What we're all trying to do is keep one step ahead of the blood sugar. We take insulin before we eat to try to keep the blood sugar from going up. We reduce insulin before exercise to try and keep the blood sugar from going down.

Looking at what you're telling me about the pattern of your blood sugar, it seems that cutting the dinner bolus in half is a great call on your part. Combined with your exercise, your blood sugar is nice and rock steady. But then you eat an apple with no insulin and your blood sugar goes through the roof. I think you should bolus for the apple. Even if your sugar is a hair low when you eat your snack, this is perfectly safe to do. The sugar in the apple will likely out-pace your insulin anyway. The insulin starts working in 15 to 20 minutes and won't peak for two hours.

I think if you do this, you won't be "very high" close to bedtime, and hopefully you won't need a correction shot at all — or if you do, it would be a lot smaller, and then you won't have to fret over the whole go-low-in-the-night thing, which is officially scary.

I wasn't sure exactly when you eat the apple, or when your bedtime is, but the first couple of times you try this, go ahead and set an alarm for the middle of the night to check your blood sugar. I'd choose about three-and-a-half hours after taking your snack shot. In most folks that's prime time for hypos. Modern fast-acting insulins pretty much run their course in four hours. If you're safely within target at that point, your odds of going low from the shot are pretty remote.

Yeah, setting an alarm will disturb your sleep, but you'll sleep a lot better knowing that you'll wake up the next day.

This is not a medical advice column. We are PWDs freely and openly sharing the wisdom of our collected experiences — our been-there-done-that knowledge from the trenches. But we are not MDs, RNs, NPs, PAs, CDEs, or partridges in pear trees. Bottom line: we are only a small part of your total prescription. You still need the professional advice, treatment, and care of a licensed medical professional.

Disclaimer: Content created by the Diabetes Mine team. For more details click here.

Disclaimer

This content is created for Diabetes Mine, a consumer health blog focused on the diabetes community. The content is not medically reviewed and doesn't adhere to Healthline's editorial guidelines. For more information about Healthline's partnership with Diabetes Mine, please click here.

Type 2 Diabetes Treatment Type 2 Diabetes Diet Diabetes Destroyer Reviews Original Article

0 notes