Under Construction

writing blog of an animation student est. Sept. 2017 Illustrator & Part-time Writer

[nbwrites]

don’t talk to me about love

when the concept was tainted from the start

a man with charm who would hold himself high

but could lie to my mother while looking her in the eye

who took her, used her, and broke her heart

and treated the whole thing like an art

[wordsnstuff]

Resources For Writing Sketchy Topics

Medicine

A Study In Physical Injury

Comas

Medical Facts And Tips For Your Writing Needs

Broken Bones

Burns

Unconsciousness & Head Trauma

Blood Loss

Stab Wounds

Pain & Shock

All About Mechanical Injuries (Injuries Caused By Violence)

Writing Specific Characters

Portraying a kleptomaniac.

Playing a character with cancer.

How to portray a power driven character.

Playing the manipulative character.

Portraying a character with borderline personality disorder.

Playing a character with Orthorexia Nervosa.

Writing a character who lost someone important.

Playing the bullies.

Portraying the drug dealer.

Playing a rebellious character.

How to portray a sociopath.

How to write characters with PTSD.

Playing characters with memory loss.

Playing a pyromaniac.

How to write a mute character.

How to write a character with an OCD.

How to play a stoner.

Playing a character with an eating disorder.

Portraying a character who is anti-social.

Portraying a character who is depressed.

How to portray someone with dyslexia.

How to portray a character with bipolar disorder.

Portraying a character with severe depression.

How to play a serial killer.

Writing insane characters.

Playing a character under the influence of marijuana.

Tips on writing a drug addict.

How to write a character with HPD.

Writing a character with Nymphomania.

Writing a character with schizophrenia.

Writing a character with Dissociative Identity Disorder.

Writing a character with depression.

Writing a character who suffers from night terrors.

Writing a character with paranoid personality disorder.

How to play a victim of rape.

How to play a mentally ill/insane character.

Writing a character who self-harms.

Writing a character who is high on amphetamines.

How to play the stalker.

How to portray a character high on cocaine.

Playing a character with ADHD.

How to play a sexual assault victim.

Writing a compulsive gambler.

Playing a character who is faking a disorder.

Playing a prisoner.

Portraying an emotionally detached character.

How to play a character with social anxiety.

Portraying a character who is high.

Portraying characters who have secrets.

Portraying a recovering alcoholic.

Portraying a sex addict.

How to play someone creepy.

Portraying sexually/emotionally abused characters.

Playing a character under the influence of drugs.

Playing a character who struggles with Bulimia.

Illegal Activity

Examining Mob Mentality

How Street Gangs Work

Domestic Abuse

Torture

Assault

Murder

Terrorism

Internet Fraud

Cyberwarfare

Computer Viruses

Corporate Crime

Political Corruption

Drug Trafficking

Human Trafficking

Sex Trafficking

Illegal Immigration

Contemporary Slavery 

Black Market Prices & Profits

AK-47 prices on the black market

Bribes

Computer Hackers and Online Fraud

Contract Killing

Exotic Animals

Fake Diplomas

Fake ID Cards, Passports and Other Identity Documents

Human Smuggling Fees

Human Traffickers Prices

Kidney and Organ Trafficking Prices

Prostitution Prices

Cocaine Prices

Ecstasy Pills Prices

Heroin Prices

Marijuana Prices

Meth Prices

Earnings From Illegal Jobs

Countries In Order Of Largest To Smallest Risk

Forensics

arson

Asphyxia

Blood Analysis

Book Review

Cause & Manner of Death

Chemistry/Physics

Computers/Cell Phones/Electronics

Cool & Odd-Mostly Odd

Corpse Identification

Corpse Location

Crime and Science Radio

crime lab

Crime Scene

Cults and Religions

DNA

Document Examination

Fingerprints/Patterned Evidence

Firearms Analysis

Forensic Anthropology

Forensic Art

Forensic Dentistry

Forensic History

Forensic Psychiatry

General Forensics

Guest Blogger

High Tech Forensics

Interesting Cases

Interesting Places

Interviews

Medical History

Medical Issues

Misc

Multiple Murderers

On This Day

Poisons & Drugs

Police Procedure

Q&A

serial killers

Space Program

Stupid Criminals

Theft

Time of Death

Toxicology

Trauma

[nbwrites]

Tired eyes, lop-sided grin, Wine adorning his skin; A breath filled with musty air, Days pass by with little care. The waters of life much too hateful To a man with little life to give, Unsure if he has the right to live; Sailing with two sheets to the wind. During the night, his bed warms. It's there that he performs With little in his hazed mind; Partner ready too, in kind. Away with fairies since he was young, Due to the peacefulness they provide. Death patiently waiting at his side. It's a wonder that he's survived.

Nicole Blanchard (”too many mistakes,” Aug. 2017)

[nbwrites]

A Death Wish

cross posted on Archive of Our Own

She finds herself alone just outside the main city in a (now) run-down local library, hidden amongst rows of worn-out pages. Her hands are shaking and it’s difficult to breathe when her lungs feel like collapsing in. Her throat aches in a silent scream, and Eileen can’t remember the last time she felt so inept and pitiable.

Outside, adjacent to the walls concealing her, is the eradication of normalcy. A promise that the tranquil and untroubled life she had been living has meet an official end. No more afternoon tea. No more bells signaling a day’s end. No more air filled with the sound of innocent, youthful chatter. And no more—

Eileen meets an oncoming sob with resistance when she lowers her head, curling in on herself. She recalls exactly where she is and a wave of dread feels as if it may consume her. Everything hurts and she already misses the feel of paper and leather binding in her hands. Staying here is not practical. There is no sustainable food source available and she’s positive the water no longer runs. But she’s hyper-aware of her reality and the fact that her chances are slim in escaping unscathed on her own.

The city was far from secure. It was unpredictable. High-risk. And every turn of a corner held a threat to be the last. She was fortunate enough to make it as far as she did—unarmed and unprepared—she thinks, realizing now that she misjudged the gravity of the situation. A mere bag did her little, when all that filled it was a single book and a dull kitchen knife.

Eileen doesn’t want to admit it to herself, but choosing to take her copy of Grimm’s Fairy Tales with her hadn’t been the wisest idea. That’s what her head keeps telling her, but as her heart clenches along with another cry, she knows she would not have been able to leave it behind to rot in her dusty apartment. Though useless in the face of danger, it provided a sense of comfort with its mere presence.

Not enough to stop her tears to her dismay, however. Who knew when she would see her family again.

The groans of the hoard leak in through the thin walls and Eileen’s shaking worsens. Her eyes too clouded to see the way her body quivers in fear. She wants to lie to herself and believe for a moment that she’s fine. She’s not though and with no idea what actions to take to assure her own safety.

There are so many things she wishes to say, cursing her own stupidity for not having had a more legitimate weapon lying around her residence. She resigns though when she acknowledges the fact that (even if there had been) she may not have been able to carry it on her person; so she directs her desperate anger towards her feeble physique instead.

Pathetic.

The temperature drops and Eileen’s blood runs colder causing another tremor to rack through her, when her ears catch the sound of rustling. Her hand inches towards her feet. Down to the largest item within her vicinity: an encyclopedia.

It was plausible. Eileen knew the place hadn’t been entirely secure—the walls were thin, the doors unable to find it in themselves to hold as strong as they once had, but it would still take the force of the hoard as a whole to break through. As dangerous as the walking monstrosities were, time had proven the lack of intelligence they possessed and she had slipped into the area undetected. She prays the monsters hadn’t found a weak link that she overlooked as she grips the large book tighter.

Her mind reels as it makes failing attempts to conjure up an escape plan, and Eileen notices she can no longer feel tears streaming down her face. She’s much too frightened to cry over her own plight now, panic drowning her in its depths.

She can hear a low rumble of a voice growing closer, and she wants to flee but her legs aren’t working. The book in her hands could make for a good distraction. A moderate blow to the head. The thought upsets her, but Eileen reminds herself with a shake that refusing to mistreat an inanimate object is not worth the cost of her life and she prepares to hurl the massive item forward as a shadow comes into view.

“...Um, you okay?”

[nbwrites]

When I look at him, I see the sun. Blinding, friendly, and ready for fun. What I see is a man who simply wants to receive, a man who wears his heart on his sleeve. He attempts to give off an air of mirth, but I can tell he doesn't quite know what he's worth. I've never seen eyes hold such sorrow, but I pray he always has a better tomorrow.

Nicole Blanchard (”my love,” Aug. 2017)

[nbwrites]

Early morning train, barely a glance I found you hidden, Our eyes meeting in happenstance A book which you hid in Pulled close to your face It was then that my heart began to race Cheeks dusted pink, lips slightly parted Who knew it was then that a romance had started Weekly coffee, with barely a word You said that you loved me I swore I misheard A dream is what it had to be Because an angel’s love is what you gave me

Nicole Blanchard (”eileen,” Aug. 2017)