#while having to look to move for this position. its a bit much to handle.

[rodeoromeo]

american song archives is hiring my dream position at the moment. it's hard to not have fomo for a job that I'm currently not qualified for but it is a huge motivator and helps me remember the good side of the thing that is causing me all of my current stress in life. I got a job offer recently and I am about to embark on the first step in my career as a museum archiver/exhibition designer and producer. it's a huge opportunity and technically the first good thing to happen to me in a year, and maybe the best opportunity I've ever had in my professional life. I am on the way to realizing my goals and I should remember to focus on that.

[daisymbin]

do you like me? - yoon jeonghan

warnings: as usual, alcohol as it is part of the drunken series , use of "she"

pairings: yoon jeonghan x reader

genre: friends to lovers, tiny bit of fluff, jealous jeonghan

wc: 2.2k

a/n: i cant believe its 2.2k wc, i was only aiming for 1000 minimum LOL. also im sorry yall, I feel like this fic didn't show more of 'drunk jeonghan' but I tried my best so I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing this one! also I miss yoon jeonghan :(

drunken confessions masterlist

check out my masterlist! // hannie's m.list

jeonghan had always been playful with you. his teasing was a daily occurrence, a steady rhythm in the chaos of your shared lives. whether it was his shameless compliments, sly smiles, or that way he always seemed to invade your personal space, it was his favorite game; to make you blush, to get you stumbling over your words. he was drawn to the way you’d turn red, to your quiet flustered reactions. for him, each shy smile, every averted gaze was a little victory, he savoured each & every one of them.

but today was different.

you’d bitten off more than you could handle, volunteering to organize tonight's dinner without realizing the work it entailed. you thought it was easy; I mean, its just dinner right? but you forgot the part where its for 14 people. part of you wanted to ask jeonghan for help, he was resourceful, organized, and probably the best person for the job. yet, just the thought of sitting with him, of his teasing comments while he leaned close to look over the details, made you anxious. you could already imagine his smirk, the inevitable, “oh, so you do need me,”  that would tumble from his lips. the thought alone had your cheeks heating up, so instead, you turned to seungcheol.

“hey, cheol,” you called, catching his attention. “could you… help. me with tonight's dinner planning? i’m a little overwhelmed.”

seungcheol looked at you with an easy smile. “of course. what do you have in mind so far?”

you settled beside him, going over the checklist you’d made. seungcheol was focused, nodding along, giving practical suggestions. his presence always easy and comforting for you.

meanwhile, jeonghan had wandered into the room just in time to see you sidle up to seungcheol. his eyes narrowed slightly, taking in how close the two of you were, your heads bent together, deep in conversation. you laughed at something seungcheol said, and jeonghan felt his chest tighten. he was used to your flustered, shy reactions, but this was different. with seungcheol, you looked comfortable, relaxed: in a way you never were around him.

the more he watched, the more that flicker of irritation grew, a quiet jealousy simmering just beneath the surface. he didn’t realize he’d been clenching his fists until he caught seungcheol looking at you with that friendly smile, his hand resting casually on the back of your chair. something inside him snapped.

walking over, jeonghan put on his usual casual smile, but there was a tightness to it. “am i interrupting something?” he asked, his voice light but with a sharpness that made you and seungcheol look up.

seungcheol raised an eyebrow, not missing the tension in jeonghan’s expression. “just helping out with the dinner tonight,” he said, meeting jeonghan’s gaze evenly. “she needed some help.”

jeonghan’s gaze flickered to you, his brow furrowing slightly. “really? you needed help?” he echoed, the emphasis on ‘you’ just sharp enough to make your cheeks flush. he turned back to seungcheol, his voice dropping. “you must be really busy to spare the time, huh?”

seungcheol gave a small chuckle, clearly unfazed. “never too busy for a friend,” he replied, his tone pointed, as if daring jeonghan to say something else.

jeonghan’s jaw tightened, and he forced a thin smile. “that’s good,” he said, his voice deceptively soft. “after all, friends should help each other, right?”

he moved closer, positioning himself between you and seungcheol, and leaned over to glance at your notes. “you could’ve asked me, you know,” he murmured, his tone a mix of annoyance and something sharper. “i thought you knew i’d make time for you.”

you looked down, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “i… i just thought you might be busy,” you lied, not daring to meet his gaze.

“busy?” jeonghan echoed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, though there was no humor in it. “funny. because it looks like you had plenty of time to find seungcheol.” he let out a low chuckle, but it lacked his usual warmth, sounding more like he was biting back something he didn’t want to say.

seungcheol raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he watched the exchange. “jeonghan, if you wanted to help, all you had to do was say so,” he said, his voice calm but pointed. “i don’t mind stepping aside.” seungcheol; knowing jeonghan's crush on you, was annoyed that jeonghan saw him as a threat.

jeonghan’s gaze hardened for a split second, and he gave a stiff shrug. “no, don’t worry. wouldn’t want to step on anyone’s toes,” he replied, a hint of sarcasm slipping into his voice. he turned back to you, his expression softer but still tinged with frustration. “but angel, just next time, maybe try asking me first?”

he glanced at seungcheol, a flash of irritation crossing his face as he noticed the small smile on seungcheol’s lips. 

dinner 

dinner that night started lightheartedly enough, filled with jokes, the clinking of glasses, and shared laughter. you were seated across from jeonghan, who seemed quieter than usual, eyes not quite meeting yours. the earlier tension from the day still lingered like an invisible thread between you.

as the evening went on, seungcheol seemed to gravitate towards you, his hand resting casually on your shoulder as he laughed at one of your jokes. every now and then, he’d lean in close to say something only you could hear, his warmth pressing into your side. it was the kind of natural, friendly touch that seungcheol was known for, but tonight, under jeonghan’s watchful gaze, it felt heavier.

jeonghan’s eyes darkened each time seungcheol’s fingers brushed yours or his arm draped over the back of your chair. his usual playful smirk was replaced by a tight line, the humor in his eyes dulled with an emotion he didn’t bother hiding anymore. the casual sips of wine he’d been taking turned into longer, more frequent gulps, his hand clenching the stem of the glass as if it were the only thing anchoring him.

“you’re really good at making everyone laugh, you know that?” seungcheol said with a grin, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. you giggled, warmth flooding your cheeks at the compliment, oblivious to the way jeonghan’s jaw clenched from across the table.

“cheol, i think its just you, no one else thinks that." you said as you hit seungcheol's chest playfully. & by "no one else" you really only meant jeonghan because he's sitting there, not a hint of humour on his face. but your gesture towards seungcheol & the added alcohol in his system, heightening his senses only made jeonghan’s frustration spike. the easy way you interacted with seungcheol, so comfortable, without a hint of the nervousness you usually had around him. it felt like salt in an open wound.

jeonghan finally set his glass down with a sharp clink, drawing everyone’s attention. his smile was there, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “seungcheol, you’re really good at making everyone feel special, don't you?” the question was laced with a bitter edge, masked just enough to pass as playful to anyone who wasn’t paying attention.

seungcheol raised an eyebrow, sensing the tension but choosing to play along. “well, someone’s gotta keep the mood up, right?” he chuckled, his arm going back to rest on your shoulder. the familiarity in his posture made jeonghan’s blood simmer.

“right,” jeonghan said, his voice deceptively light as he pushed back his chair and stood up, the scrape of wood against the floor sending a jolt through you. he rounded the table, stopping just behind your chair, his hand landing on the back of it with a grip that made you glance up at him in surprise.

“mind if i steal her for a second?” jeonghan’s tone was polite, but the look he shot seungcheol was anything but.

seungcheol’s eyes narrowed slightly before he let out a short laugh, leaning back and lifting his hands in mock surrender. “by all means,” he said, but the knowing glint in his eyes spoke volumes.

jeonghan leaned down, his face close to yours, voice low enough that only you could hear. “we need to talk,” he murmured, and the way his fingers brushed against your shoulder sent a shiver down your spine.

“o-okay,” you managed to say, your heart thudding in your chest as jeonghan’s gaze bore into yours, filled with an intensity that left no room for argument.

the room around you seemed to hold its breath, the chatter and laughter fading as jeonghan’s jealousy, simmering all night, finally bubbled to the surface.

jeonghan stepped closer, the intensity in his gaze weighing heavily on you. the lighthearted banter that usually flowed so easily between you was replaced by a thick tension that felt almost suffocating. you could feel your heart race, unsure of what was coming, but dreading it all the same.

“i need to get this off my chest. it’s been eating at me all day.” he said, his voice low and shaky,

you swallowed hard, the unease swirling in your stomach. “what is it?”

“do you like seungcheol?” 

“what? no, he's just a close friend.” your voice loud and clear.

“good. i don’t want to see you with anyone else,” he confessed, the liquid courage had him spilling words out in a rush, as if he couldn’t hold them back any longer. “not seungcheol, not anyone. it kills me to watch you laugh with him, to see you so at ease when you’re with him.” his eyes glassy.

you opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off, frustration lining his features. “do you have any idea how much it hurts? every time you go to him instead of me, every time you ask him for help instead of me? it feels like you’re choosing him over me, and i can’t stand it!”

the heat of his words struck you like a slap, and you recoiled slightly, your heart aching at the rawness of his confession. “jeonghan, it’s not like that. i didn’t mean-”

“but it is!” he interrupted, his voice rising with emotion. “why is it so easy with him for you? you say he’s just a friend but when you need help, he’s the first one you think of? when we were sitting round the table for dinner, you just had to sit beside him? i’ve tried to brush it off, to act like it doesn’t bother me, but it does. i like you. like. a lot. i really really like you. and seeing you with him makes me feel like i’m losing you, which is stupid because you were never mine to begin with but it feels like you’ll never see me as anything more than just a friend. and it tears me apart. it just. hurts. do you even think of me? do you even think about me?” 

his voice cracked on the last words, the vulnerability laid bare in front of you. your chest felt heavy as you took in the pain etched across his face. “jeonghan, i-”

“no,” he said, shaking his head, anguish flooding his expression. “you don’t have to say anything if you don’t feel the same way. i just… needed you to know how i feel. i’ve been holding this in for so long, and it’s exhausting. i can’t keep pretending that it doesn’t matter to me when it does.”

your heart raced as you processed his confession. you could see the hurt in his eyes, the fear of rejection bubbling beneath the surface. “i… i do care about you,” you finally managed, your voice trembling. “but i was scared to admit it, we’re so…different.” jeonghan’s eyes softened for just a moment, but the hurt was still there, lingering. “then what do we do now?” he asked, the vulnerability seeping back in, but now mixed with an edge of despair. “because watching you be happy with someone else… i don’t think i can handle that anymore. so tell me, do you��do you like me?”

his question brought silence, it hung between you, thick with tension and jeonghan's raw vulnerability that shows his uncertainty, but within it was a glimmer of hope because jeonghan knows what your answer is when you locked eyes, he saw the way you looked at him. the world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in a moment that felt both terrifying and exhilarating.

whatever was in the magic somaek as mingyu called it when he handed it to you was definitely working, because out of all the times jeonghan teased you to no end & his endless friendly flirting that left you shy & red, this has got to be the one time you really ought to be running away with the way he's looking at you.

so tell me, why is it that when jeonghan pulls you closer by your waist and looks into your eyes as if asking for permission for god knows what, why do you nod your head twice with great certainty? & when jeonghan smiles so wide, bringing his left hand up to your neck to pull your body flush against his own and kisses you on your lips, why do you kiss him back?

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Whiskey on the Tongue

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You are the forbidden fruit Dean had always wanted to taste, and when you steal his whiskey the way you do, he is powerless to resist.

Words: 2.2k

A/N: This is my first ever Supernatural fic after having started watching the show just before Christmas. I know I'm late to the game but is it ever really too late to start loving a fandom? I've tried to make the reader generic in every way other than being cis-female, and Dean finding her hot.

It's been an absolute age since I wrote anything and probably longer since I posted anything here on Tumblr but I'm getting back into it now. Hopefully this finds its way to people in the Supernatural fandom who love a bit of Dean smut.

I hope you enjoy and, as always, I value your comments and feedback.

Warnings: Smut, explicit smut, alcohol consumption, mentions of people who have passed away, profanity as standard with pretty much everything I write.

*** Minors do not read or interact - 18+ content ***

Dean let his head fall back against the headboard, clenching his fists to try to distract himself from the deep ache in his left leg.  It had been falling asleep for well over an hour now, but he didn’t want to move and disturb you.

The door to his room in the bunker was closed.  Locked, in fact, though he did not remember doing it.  You didn’t comment or so much as move when Sam brayed on the door and tried the handle, calling out for Dean to return his book.  The very book that was in your hands right now.

“I need that book back, Dean.”  Sam grumbled.

“Not now, Sammy!”  Dean called back, hoping his little brother would just go away.

“I’m researching Nephilim to help Cas with the Kelly situation, Dean.  It’s important.”  Sam became more insistent.

“I said NOT NOW, SAM!”  Dean hollered with a kind of finality that even Sam wouldn’t argue with.

Outside the door, Sam huffed and stalked away.  Dean looked down to see you looking up at him from your position, lay on his bed.  Your head was resting on his left calf, his leg bent with his foot tucked under his right knee.  You had your knees up with your foot tapping along to his banging playlist, your jeans tight around your thighs and with your head tilted back he could see all the way down the deep V of your t-shirt.

He was going to hell.  Straight there.  Do not pass go.  Do not collect two hundred dollars.  And he probably deserved it.

He snapped his eyes up towards the ceiling but it was too late, he could feel himself stirring uncomfortably in his jeans.  If Bobby was alive he would have skinned him raw just for having you in his room.  Bobby was always protective of you, his niece.  You were only a couple of years younger than Sam but Bobby had made himself very clear that you were off limits.

“If you touch one single hair on her body, I’ll make you regret the day your balls dropped.  Do you hear me, boy?”

Bobby Singer.  That man did not mince his words.  And to this day, Dean had taken that threat as gospel.  Even now that Bobby was up there with the Angels, that son of a bitch would find a way to keep his word.

You shifted, causing a painful twang to shoot up his leg.  The reflexive grunt he failed to stifle made you look back up at him, giving him that glorious view again.

Dean decided he could die like this.  If having a dead leg was a legitimate threat to his life, he would go out happy with the view of your rack in that lacy black bra he could see within the V-shaped window of that too-tight t-shirt.

He raised his eyes, once again to heaven, asking Bobby to forgive him or give him strength or something because – god help him – he wanted to take you right then and there.

It wasn’t unusual for you to seek him out after a case when you didn’t want to be alone, but you didn’t want to talk.  You would just sit while he drank, reading or working on spells.  You said he quieted the noise in your head.  Hell, he wasn’t going to argue, you were a sight for sore eyes every time he came home.  You were wicked hot and sexy in a non-slutty way.  Not that slutty was bad.  Dean liked slutty.  But that wasn’t you, you were different.

A drink.  That’s what was missing.  Dean needed a damn drink, especially if you were going to torture him by laying on him all evening.

He reached over to his bedside unit, for the bottle he kept in there for special occasions.  A bottle of twenty-five-year-old Speyside single malt that he liberated from the British Men of Letters on his last interaction with Ketch.

The pour made you stir again but it wasn’t until he raised the cut crystal tumbler to his lips did you move.  Your hand came up and claimed the glass from underneath, twisting it as you sat up so as not to spill any.

“Where’s yours?”

The cheeky glint in your eye had him pursing his lips in mild annoyance.

“Don’t pout.”  You lifted the glass, turning it until the mark left by his lips touched yours and you sipped, looking him straight in the eye.

Dean’s jaw went slack.  The glisten of the whiskey on your lips and the satisfied hum you made when you swallowed – he swallowed unconsciously when you did – made his mouth go dry.  He had never seen you like this.

You moved to kneel on the bed and walked your way slowly closer, giving his leg a tap; an instruction to move it aside.  He did, causing pins and needles to infest his nerves like ants swarming on a log to escape a flood.

Knelt between his spread legs, you brought the glass to your lips again, sipping at the amber liquid.  You leaned in.

Dean watched you, breathing shallow, attention rapt.  You hadn’t so much as touched him, yet every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire in the best possible way.  The closer you got the shallower he breathed until he was almost holding his breath, looking down his nose at how close your lips were.  His eyelashes looked to flutter against his cheeks just as yours did when you brushed your whiskey dappled lips against his.

He refused to lick where you had been.  He couldn’t.  As soon as he tasted, he would pounce, and…

“Don’t.”  He croaked out when you moved to lay your lips on him once more.

You looked confused but at least you didn’t look hurt.  He couldn’t bear it if you looked hurt because of him.

“Bobby…”  Was all he could say through his constricting throat.

You smiled then, full of amusement, lips brushing against his, you whispered “he’ll understand.”

Dean tried not to respond to you but you coaxed his lips apart and teased your tongue to meet his, short circuiting his brain.  The taste of the scotch and the sweetness of your mouth made him groan.  He had fantasised about having you for years, but never did he think it would be you seducing him.

His hands on your hips guided you roughly to straddle him, the bulge in his jeans pushing up against you as you settled.  He took the glass from your hands and downed the contents, his eyes on yours as he dropped the glass carelessly on the bedside unit.

Your lips met his again but this time you devoured each other, tongues stroking together, moans stifled by each other’s mouths.  He trailed his hands up your body, dragging your t-shirt along with them.  Finally, he could see what he had been having glimpses of this whole evening.  Plush breasts cupped in scant lace that was completely impractical for a hunt, Dean realised, like you had meant to come here like this.  You had intended this from the beginning.

He tore at the lace, dragging it under your breasts to free them, shoulder straps slipped down.  Pawing at them like he had never touched a tittie before, all he wanted to do was suck and nip and nibble.

Your breathy sigh was divine, and the moan that followed was filthy.  You cupped the back of his head as he took your nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, pressing him further, asking for more.

While he worked on your breasts you undid his belt and fly, reaching into the front of his shorts to release him from the awkward angle at which he was trapped.  You stroked him, firm but slow, feeling him for the first time.  You had always wondered what he had going on down there that every woman he had ever been with would come back for more at the drop of a hat.  You weren’t disappointed.

Dean lifted his hips, you thought to allow you to push his jeans down but instead he flipped you, making you squeal.  Once under him, he ravished your breasts anew, pinching one nipple hard while licking and sucking the other.  Soon you were a mewling mess, hips writhing, begging for something he hadn’t given you yet.  Excited that he had taken control away from you, you watched him sit up and yank your jeans down, lifting your legs until they were bare.  Your knickers followed and he spread your legs without preamble, lowering himself between your thighs until his hair and eyes were all you could see above your mound.

“Jesus Christ of Nazareth!”

You groaned as he suckled against your sensitive spot.  Fuck, he was good with his tongue.  Everything about him was good except his image.  Bad boy Dean Winchester.  He was every woman’s wet dream.  He had been your wet dream since you were seventeen.  But now you were plenty old enough and finally getting what you wanted.

Bobby had told you to stay away from him when you were a kid.  Dean had a reputation as a ladies man even then, but he respected your uncle Bobby enough to keep his distance… until now.

Dean dipped two fingers inside, creating pressure in exactly the right spot.  You gasped and gripped his hair as your pleasure began to crest, tugging on it for dear life.  He looked up at you then, to see your eyes closed against the intensity of it, neck and face flushed red with your oncoming orgasm.  When it came, the pulsing of your core was his sign to slow down.  He left off his suckling and stroked you through the pleasure, watching you all the while.  You were a beautiful mess.

“That’s my girl.”  He praised you in that deep rough tone you adored, helping prolong your climax until you took his hand away yourself.  “Are you ready for me?”

You nodded, allowing him to lift your knees up and stroke the weeping tip of his cock over your swollen clit.

From the front pocket of the jeans he still wore, he pulled a foil packet with Trojan embossed on it.  He was swift with its application, aiming his tip just so.

When he slid home, your eyes rolled back and you reached to grip his forearms.  It was something Dean would never get tired of seeing but it felt that much different with you.  You were the forbidden thing he had always wanted but could never have.  Even now he didn’t know whether he would come to regret this.  God, he hoped not.

Balls deep in you, he leaned forward to kiss you, wrapping your legs around his hips.  His instinct was to fold you in half and pound the living shit out of you, but you were already overwhelmed and he wanted to make this soft for you.

“Tell me what you need.”  He spoke softly as he nuzzled your neck.

“Just you, like this.”  You sighed.  Who knew Dean Winchester was a considerate lover.

His slow, measured thrusts brought you closer to the edge, your core fluttering each time, he could feel it.  It surprised him how quickly is climax built at this pace, but the added connection you both shared seemed to turn him on.  He would never give up Busty Asian Babe porn but he could get used to this with you.

You didn’t close your eyes against the pleasure this time, you watched him come undone above you, gasping as his orgasm made his legs and arms shake, muscles clenched tight to keep his weight from collapsing on you.  When he swelled you dug your fingers into his hips to pull him deeper with each stroke, and when he spilled you also came, eyes fluttering shut finally.

Dean knelt up, slipping the rubber off as soon as he was clear of you and, tying a knot in the end, tossed it in the direction of the trash can.

“Shot.”  You said with a smile as the sticky bundle went straight in the can.

He quirked and eyebrow and give you a slightly smug lopsided smirk that said:  What can I say?  I don’t miss.

When you moved to sit, he stopped you.

“Here, lemme get that.”

“Thanks.”

He stripped his t-shirt off and used it to clean up the wetness between your legs.  Though none of it was his, it would still dribble when you moved.  Afterwards he tucked it under your ass and flopped down on the bed at your side, moving his arm behind your head so you could rest it on his chest.  You were both content.  Both had goofy grins on your faces.  Both disbelieving that you had finally gotten what you wanted.

A loud knock at the door started you.

“Are you done?”  Sam said.  “I need that book.”

“NO!”  You and Dean shouted back in unison, laughing afterwards.

“Bobby’s gonna kill you.”  Sam called back through the door.

“I KNOW!”  Dean yelled gruffly, pulling you closer.

There might be a time in the future where the ghost of Bobby Singer came to make him regret the day his balls dropped and, if it happened, Dean would be happy to see him again.  In the meantime, you and he could work on a whole bunch of reasons to make the cranky old bastard come down from up high for a visit.

Dean pulled the sheets over both of your heads, nibbling at your neck until you moaned his name.  Aside from the roar of Baby’s engine, he had found his new favourite sound.

[writingwithcolor]

A Careful Balance: Portraying a Black Character's Relationship with their Hair

@writingraccoon said:

My character is black in a dungeons and dragons-like fantasy world. His name is Kazuki Haile (pronounced hay-lee), and his mother is this world's equivalent of Japanese, which is where his first name is from, while his father is this world's equivalent of Ethiopian, which is where his last name is from. He looks much more like his father, and has hair type 4a. I plan to make his character very finnicky about his hair, both enjoying styling it, but also often being unsure how to style it (not in that he doesn't know how to, but has so many options for how to style it, he has trouble choosing). However, I know that there are some very harmful ways to write black hair, especially in regards to how the black character themselves feels about it. Kazuki does not hate his hair, in fact he takes joy in it, and I'm researching black hair and hair styles to be as accurate as possible. But I'm unsure if portraying a black character as occasionally overwhelmed by or vain about his hair is negative. How would you suggest either changing this or making it work? Does it need to be changed in the first place?

Black Character Overwhelmed by Curly Afro Hair

Your Black character wanting his hair to look its best and at times feeling overwhelmed seems reasonable and natural to me. It appears their challenge comes with how to style it. Not so much with struggling how it looks or how hard it is to manage. That is good, as this further helps avoid placing a strong negative focus on Black hair. 

Him caring a lot about how it is style should not be deemed vain or frivolous, either. In any case, hair care is self care. There’s nothing wrong with having pride with your hair, especially hair that mainstream society, historically and present, might say is not beautiful. This still matters, even in a fantasy world, since your readers still exist in this reality. It’s empowering and a welcome change to see someone who loves their afro hair, actually.

There are unique factors someone with coily afro hair would experience vs. straight, wavy, or looser curls, but people struggling with their hair (too frizzy, too flat, too limp, too thin, too thick!) is universal. 

There is a delicate balance to achieve.

Avoid Writing a Black Hair Journey Experience 

An overall negative Afro hair journey might be the reality for many, especially when society deems Afro hair as unacceptable and slaps so many uninvited opinions, laws and policies over its existence and on certain styles (again, historically and very much at present), but that’s the kind of story that is best handled by someone with the background. Someone willing to commit to the research might also be able to pull it off, although it’s truly not the kind of thing an escapism novel needs in my opinion. If the story is not meant to delve into “A Black /Black Hair Experience” then I'd avoid going that route. That is moving a bit towards a struggle narrative, depending on how much it defines your character’s story.

Add positive and neutral hair language and interactions

For your writing, I’d avoid using unchallenged negative language about his hair. Being overwhelmed at times and frustrated is one thing and expected. If his hair is constantly brought up, and is associated with uncontrollable, ugly, or too [insert struggle here], then rethink the direction you’re going. 

Add some positive or neutral terms, reactions, and interactions in the narrative towards afro hair, such as describing color and texture.

“His fine coils bounced in the wind.” 

“Hair black and shiny” 

“She wore her hair in two large, fluffy buns.”

“He admired his fresh, neat braids in the mirror, smiling at his reflection, before turning to leave.”

Another tip: It may have been for research purposes, but leave out any hair number categorizing in the story and rely on description. I’d say this goes for any story, as reading the number would feel off. 

“He had coily 4a hair.” Nahh! :P 

Also, I would suggest sending all passages that focus on his hair to a Black sensitivity reader for review.

More reading:

~Mod Colette

[angel1010xx]

ｂｅｇ ｆｏｒ ｍｅ

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Pairing: Zoro x Reader (NSFW)

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Goddammit woman, why didn’t you fucking listen to me?!” 

Zoro was livid. Here was a man, towering in front of you, menacing, broad, ominously powerful—a man that has cut mountains in half—a man that just so happened to be unbelievably pissed off at you. 

“Don’t even try raising your voice at me!” You retorted back. “We would have lost everything if I didn’t make that move! Everything that the whole crew has been trying to protect would have been for nothing, Zoro! Nothing!”

“I don’t give a flying fuck,” Zoro spat, “about some cuckoo artifact that some podunk fucking scientist made.” He sneered, slowly taking steps towards you as if he were a beast waiting to pounce on its prey. 

Zoro had practically ripped your cabin door off of its hinges as soon as the Thousand Sunny had set sail again. This was only a few moments ago. Robin uncovered an artifact on the island the crew had stopped at, which just so happened to be one that was really, dreadfully needed. However, there were some… complications while leaving the island, to put it lightly. There was one particular enemy who tried to stop the crew. This nuisance had eaten a devil fruit that granted him the ability to neutralize one’s ability to fight, like a switch being flipped to the off position. He could only affect so many people at one time, and you were one of the unlucky ones to basically become a citizen in the battlefield. 

That didn’t make you take a tactical retreat, much to the chagrin of a certain swordsman. “Then what do you give a fuck about, Zoro?”

“You want to know what I give a fuck about?” Zoro breathed out in a mocking tone of voice, now standing chest to chest with you. His eyes burned into your own. “Right now, it’s teaching you a fucking lesson.” 

Zoro pushed you against the wall, and you let out a small yelp in surprise. He was still dirty from the battle, sweaty, scraped up… but you didn’t have time to think about that, because he crashed his lips onto yours with a feverish need. You yelped again, and all Zoro did was bite your bottom lip.

You felt your brain short-circuit. What was going on? 

The swordsman reached down to put his hands on the back of your thighs, and he hoisted you up in the air in one swift motion. Instinctively, you wrapped both your arms and legs around him, your back still against the wall. “Zoro, what are you—?” 

The swordman’s lips descended on your neck, and he just kept sucking and biting you. He groaned into your neck, and the combination of the low pitch of his voice, the vibration, and the warmth of his breath and mouth were all too much for you. Zoro bit your collarbone, and you gasped. He pulled away to kiss you again. “Shut up.” 

Zoro pulled away from the wall, and took a few calculated steps backwards so he could throw you on your bed. You gazed up at him, completely flushed, but you felt an ache between your thighs. He wasted no time to straddle you, trapping your legs between his, and he grabbed your wrists. “You are going to listen to me right now.” 

He growled in such a desperate way while he tied his ever-so-handy signature bandana around your wrists, and stared down at you. You were underneath him, writhing around, rubbing your thighs together for some friction and relief. You looked dirty, you looked needy, and you looked ravageable. 

Zoro got off of on top of you, and stood by the edge of the bed. He grabbed your hips and pulled you towards him, and you gasped as he ripped through any fabric barrier between you and the air. What’s gotten into him?

He spat on your cunt, then teasingly rubbed one finger in-between your folds. You moaned and arched your back, finding it hard to handle his slow pace. He didn’t let up, though; he kept rubbing his thumb in lazy circles over your entrance, then moving up to rub lazy circles on your clit, and then back down. “Fuck, Zoro, why are you teasing me…?”

“Because you don’t know how to listen.” He watched with sadistic glee as you bucked your hips against his thumb, desperate for more stimulation. “I need you to know who’s in control.” Zoro kept staring a hole into your soul, pride swelling up in his chest as he gazed down at your swollen lips and all the marks he left on your neck. So fucking pretty.

“You want more?” He asked, barely sliding the tip of his middle finger in and out of you. “Tell me you want more. I’m not giving you anything until you beg.”

You bit your lip, not wanting to give in, but your sopping cunt was aching. You shook your head at Zoro. “No…”

He leaned over you, lips hovering just above yours, and growled at you while pulling hard on one of your nipples. “Beg.”

You cried out, grinding your hips against Zoro’s, whimpering as he continued to tug and squeeze your nipples. He grunted, grinding back against you, shuddering from the adrenaline. “Tell me what you want, and fucking beg me for it.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Zoro, I need you inside me…. Please. I—please, Zoro—”

The swordsman took a second to tear his own clothes off of him. God, he was beautiful. Your eyes trailed down further and further… and God, how was he going to fit?!

Zoro smacked his dick against your cunt a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. “Say ‘please’ for me, one more time.”

“…Please.”

He pushed himself inside you in one hard thrust, giving you no time to adjust. An embarrassing squeal came out of your mouth. He was long, and he was girthy, and it felt like you were being split into two. His hand reached up to hold your tied-up ones, and he drilled into you like a man starving for water.

Sloppy, messy, wet, and god it felt so good.

Moans kept pouring out of your mouth as Zoro’s dick kissed your cervix with each thrust. He leaned his upper body onto yours, his voice dark with his own moans and grunts as he again began kissing and marking your neck. “Y’know what I give a fuck about?” He panted. “My woman. Alive.” 

“Zoro, I’m sorry—” 

Zoro changed his pace, his thrusts becoming slower and harder. Your body rocked with each one, and he put his finger in your mouth. “Ah ah ah. Show me you’re sorry. Beg for me. Beg me to make you cum on my dick.”

Your face was burning, you were swimming in pleasure, and your mind was a haze. You could smell sweat and a lingering trace of cologne, you could smell your own wetness, and all you could focus on was the growing, warm pit in your abdomen. His dick was rubbing just the right spot, but your body needed just a little bit more attention there, just a little bit more tension so you could snap—

“Fuck, please, Zoro. Please, I need you to make me cum. I need to cum on you, I’m so close, I—”

Zoro leaned back and put your ankles over his shoulders, and he began ravaging you like the beast he had been acting like earlier. It was all you could do to take it,

it was overwhelming, but his dick was curving right into that perfect spot, over, and over, and over, and over…

You cried out again, feeling the tension finally snap, and you saw white as your orgasm flooded every sense in you. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” You heard Zoro moan, and he snapped his hips into yours a few more erratic times before you felt him twitch, and then you felt the strangest sensation of being full.

He stayed inside you while the two of you fought to catch a breath.

The swordsman grunted, slowly pulling out. You could feel cum spilling out of you. He laid next to you, and untied your wrists. “I can’t… I can’t protect you when you run into the fight vulnerable like that. You were supposed to go where it was safe.”

You sighed, turning onto your side to face him, and traced your finger over the scar on his chest. “’M sorry, Zoro. I was trying to do the right thing.”

“I know,” he murmured, placing his hand over yours. 

He really couldn’t stay mad at you. 

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Aemond X Wife!Reader: Words of comfort

Warning: fluff, Aemond being a good husband, talk of pregnancy, fear of faliure, reader is a bit self consious, no use of y/n, gn reader

Word count: 970

You stared into the mirror, face twisted into a concentrated expression as you tried, for the third time, to finish your hairstyle. Normally a maid would help you do your hair but you’d sent her to help Heleana with her children. There never seemed to be enough people to help the twins when they got fussy. Heleana did her best of course but sometimes it was to much for the young mother to handle. 

You groaned in frustration, watching as your hair began to unravel on its own. Aemond watched you twist your arms behind your back in an attempt to grab a chunk of hair that was missing from your braid. A small smile tugged at his lips. You were quite amusing like this. He could have watched you in silence for the rest of the day but your eyes caught him in the reflection causing you to turn to face him.

“Everything alright?”

“Everything is fine. I merely wanted to sit with you.”

“Well then, make yourself comfortable.”

Aemond began to walk around the room. You turned back to the mirror, focusing on the task at hand once more. Aemond stared out the window of your room, his eyes moving over the world outside with little interest. He was far more interested in the small rage filled noises you kept letting out. 

“Oh I give up.”

You groaned, placing your hairbrush on the table in aggravation. You placed your head in your hands, sighing in defeat. Aemond made his way towards you, his hands moving to rest on your shoulders. He moved his palms against your body in a comforting manner. You let out a small sound, raising your head so you could see him. It was silly that something so simple had managed to get tears from your eyes but Aemond knew you weren’t crying about your hair. There was something more to it, and he would find out what.

“Want me to help?”

“I’m sure you have other matters to attend to. More important matters.”

“No matter is more important than the joy of my wife.”

You smiled at him, placing your hand on top of his. Aemond moved to sit behind you, fingers moving against your hair. You watched him unbraid your hair before grabbing the hairbrush of the table. He brushed your hair thoroughly, making sure there were knots. Once he was satisfied he placed the hairbrush down and began to braid your hair. His slim fingers moved over your locks gently. He looked so focused that you couldn’t help but smile as you watched him.

“How many do you want?”

“Two. And then you tie them together.”

Aemond gave you a hum moving to do the hairstyle you had requested. He’d seen you in it loads of times, it was your go to hairdo. It took him a while to get it just right, the amount of hair you had was quite large. Once he was done he rested his hand on your shoulders, observing as you took in his work. You turned your head so you could look at him straight on.

“It’s perfect. Thank you husband.”

You placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Want to braid mine?”

“Yes.”

Aemond switched positions with you, allowing you to become face to face with his hair. You knew he would remove the small braids you filled his hair with after he left the room but you didn’t mind. Messing with his hair calmed you down and Aemond knew that better then anyone.

“Do you want to tell me what's wrong?”

You let out a sigh moving to start another small braid. Aemond waited for you to start talking, his eye watching your lips quiver for a moment. When you finally started to speak he could tell you were trying very hard to hold back tears.

“I can’t do anything right. I can’t thread my corsets alone. I can’t braid my hair. The last time i tried to embroider my dress I stained it with red because I kept pricking my finger with the needle.”

These were all things that bothered you but Aemond knew there was something else. Something bigger. You bit into your lip, sighing once more before closing your eyes. 

“I can’t get pregnant.” 

There it was. The real root of the problem.

“How am i supposed to be a good wife to you if i can’t even perform my duties correctly.”

Aemond turned around, his hair slipping from your fingers as he did so. He placed a palm on your cheek. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t undermine yourself.”

“Aemond its my one-”

“I do not care. You are my wife and I love you. It doesn't matter if you can’t get pregnant right now, we have time.”

“And if I do get pregnant, what if…what if I'm not a good mother?”

“That isn’t possible. I’ve seen you with Heleana's kids. They adore you. There isn't a bad bone inside your body. You will make a fine mother. Just as you make a fine wife.”

Aemond’s thumb moved to wipe away your tears before placing a small kiss to your temple. You moved forward, allowing Aemond to tug you into his embrace. His hands moved over your hair, tracing over the braids he’d made moments ago.

“And another thing. I quite enjoy the process of making a baby.”

“Aemond!”

You gave him a playful slap to the arm, feeling his chest move as he laughed. You couldn’t help but laugh as well, Aemond had a way of always seeing the very best in you. You loved him for it. You raised your head from his chest, placing a kiss to his lips. He rested his head against your forehead, closing his eyes.

“I love you Aemond.”

“I love you more.”

[xamag-draws]

BBR thoughts 2024

Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies

This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not

So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters

I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash

I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted

Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it

At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do

Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction

So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older

I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet

When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"

But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work

If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now

I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:

Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)

I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat

I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least

I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example

I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep

I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor

I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence

The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers

Some new Dolly outfits

Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days

Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo

I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused

One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book

An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well

So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)

[gabrielleragusi]

For Artists: My Experience with Commission Platforms and Illustration Agencies

Hi there! I’ve been wanting to compile a list of commission platforms that I’ve personally used for the longest time, and I finally did it! I’ve highlighted the still-active commission platforms in bold and struck those that don't exist anymore so you can jump to the sections that interest you without needing to read my entire story.

Let me start by briefly introducing myself.

I’m Gabrielle, a fantasy illustrator. Since 2014, I’ve been working on book covers and illustrations for publishers, authors, and book subscription boxes. Early on, work wasn’t as frequent as it is now. I had to search for opportunities myself, and even small private commissions were important for building my portfolio and earning some money, which I’d spend on materials, books, and online courses. Like many other artists, I started out by trying my luck with the biggest art community available at the time.

DeviantArt

2009-2018

Once upon a time, there was a virtual haven called DeviantArt. To my teenage self, it was a magical place. I signed up in 2009 and thought I’d never leave!

At first, I created an account just to share my work and learn. I didn’t even think about commissions for four or five years. But when that first inquiry finally landed in my inbox, things took off! My mum swears she remembers my excitement when I got my first commission, but for some reason, I’ve completely forgotten about it. I can't remember what it was or how much it paid. It might have been a portrait of a fantasy character.

Commissions on DeviantArt were fairly frequent, especially considering my cheap prices at the time. I used to offer discounts and post my rates in my DeviantArt journal, or in Commission groups that featured artists either monthly or weekly. After checking out my profile, a client could simply send me a private message and from there, we’d discuss payment, deadlines, and other details, and the platform didn’t take any fees, much like how ArtStation works today. Everything happened through private messages or email, with direct contact between artist and client.

The downside of this process was that there was no dispute resolution system on the platform. I had to handle all issues myself, and unfortunately, problems did arise sometimes: there were clients changing their minds about commissions, asking for refunds after work was delivered, refusing to pay, or just ghosting me. These issues didn’t happen because clients were evil, but rather because I was inexperienced and allowed some to take advantage of my naivety.

However, all that frustration helped me develop my commission process through trial and error (mostly error). And despite the challenges, I can say with satisfaction that most of the commissions I received through my DeviantArt profile were positive experiences.

DeviantArt eventually introduced a commission feature for Core (Premium) users, which came with a platform fee, but I didn’t use it much, and I’m not sure if it still exists.

The real beauty of dA, though, was the connections I made. I was able to meet people, both artists and clients, that I’m still in contact with today, and some of whom I still collaborate with.

I closed my account in 2018 or 2019, but by that time, I hadn’t really used it for a couple of years. The new user interface was a bit of a turn-off for me. I had always loved the geeky, and dare I say cozy, look of the old green and grey aesthetic, with its customisable panels that you could move around and personalise with HTML code... But I digress.

Artists and Clients

2013-2016

While taking small commissions on DeviantArt, I discovered Artists & Clients. It was a nice platform for clients to get things like their D&D characters or groups illustrated for relatively cheap. I think my highest price was $50 for a single character portrait, with the platform taking a 15% cut. I used it for about two or three years before the platform started to change.

As more artists with hentai art styles flooded in, the homepage shifted, and so did the clientele. There’s nothing wrong with drawing naked anime girls, of course, but you can understand that if a client is looking for a fantasy, semi-realistic painting of their female orc character, or a realistic portrait of their spouse, it's more than likely that they won't bother sifting through a sea of anime girls to find the style they want, imagining it isn't here. Let's just say that, at the time, the website took a definite direction that wasn't in line with my genre, but this direction didn't make the different, more realistic art styles stand out either.

Soon, commissions slowed down for me, so I closed my account, but by then I was already working elsewhere.

That said, this platform could still be a useful tool if you’re looking to take on smaller commissions.

DreamUp

2014-2015

DreamUp wasn’t an AI generator back then. It was actually a subsidiary of DeviantArt, where clients could post projects and artists could apply. It was a competitive platform that offered well-paid work–very well-paid. I remember seeing jobs posted that ranged from $300 to $1,200. DreamUp was a very professional platform for clients with a mid to high budget.

I believe I landed my very first book cover commission through this website when I was in my last year of high school. I remember getting the job and going to school the next morning, excited to share the news with my classmates. Everyone was super thrilled for me (we were a really close-knit class!), and I felt like I was walking on air.

Unfortunately, as far as I know, that book was never released, but it didn’t matter because I was moving forward, and fast.

I’m not sure when DreamUp was shut down, but I do know that DeviantArt held onto the copyrighted name, assigning it to something so anti-old DreamUp that it still boggles my mind.

ArtCorgi

Now Artistree

2014-2019

When I received an invitation to join ArtCorgi from its founder, I already had a somewhat consistent portfolio. I was painting portraits and fantasy illustrations, and the clients on this platform were looking for both–your typical wedding and pet portraits, as well as book covers, which were what really interested me. To get to the latter, I had to do the former. Over the years, I’ve painted so many realistic portraits that now I have a strict rule for my own sanity not to do them any more. I have great respect for portrait artists, but it’s just not me.

When I first submitted my prices to the person I was in contact with, she kindly suggested that I raise them... a lot. That was a major step forward in my professional career. I went from charging $50 to $100/$200 overnight. And to my surprise, people actually wanted to commission me at those prices!

From 2014 to 2019, I took nearly every commission that came my way. I never spoke directly with the clients; all instructions and feedback went through my point of contact, which helped maintain a level of professionalism, although now that I’m used to working directly with clients, I’m not sure I’d want to go back to having an intermediary.

Sadly, as with all good things, this chapter came to an end. My point of contact eventually left communication in the hands of someone else, and shortly after, the commission fee changed to, I believe, 30%.

Simply put, 30% is an unrealistic cut for a website like this. For an agent that gets you all kinds of big work in the publishing industry, sure, but since this was not the case I had to stop taking commissions. Despite that, my overall experience with ArtCorgi was very positive.

Today, ArtCorgi joined another platform, Artistree. As far as I can tell, Artistree doesn’t take any fees from artists, with clients covering a small cost instead.

Sketchmob (?)

2016-2020

This was probably the platform I used the most. I’ve lost count of how many commissions I received through Sketchmob. Many. Enough to generate a steady income at the time. With reasonable fees and a variety of art styles available, clients contacted me almost daily. Communication was direct between artists and clients, and payments could be split. The review system also worked very well… for a while.

Once I raised my prices, requests became fewer and farther apart. But by then, I was already working with my own clients.

Is this platform still active? Who knows. The website is still up and the chat feature works, but I’ve seen users complain that money available for withdrawal never arrived via PayPal (the only payment method the platform accepted, if I remember correctly). Personally, I wouldn’t risk completing a job through Sketchmob right now, at least not until they release an update.

If you’ve used the platform recently and successfully received payment within the last six months, please let me know, and I’d be happy to update this section!

Upwork

2017-2019

In 2017, I was determined to break into the book publishing industry. After trying out Fiverr and Freelancer.com with no success (the competition was too fierce for someone just starting out), I decided to give Upwork a shot. The platform looked very professional, and while the process sounded a bit complicated, I wanted to land the interesting projects I saw featured in my category. I really wanted to work with a big client… but big clients didn’t seem to want me, despite having the Rising Talent badge.

In two years of bidding for jobs and submitting proposals, I only landed two projects: a small commission from a private client who actually reached out to me, and another project that I bid on.

Don’t get me wrong, I was ecstatic at the time and truly appreciated every opportunity that came my way. But looking back, I can see why Upwork didn’t work out for me. The platform just wasn’t the right fit for my style and niche, which is fantasy illustration. Graphic design, however, was (and still is) in much higher demand.

The commission process on Upwork wasn’t as simple as on other platforms. For instance, at the time, costs were calculated hourly, which was a challenge for someone like me who prefers working with flat fees (having already calculated my average hours spent on an illustration). From what I’ve seen, this has since changed.

One positive aspect of Upwork is its current 10% cut on what artists earn. I don’t recall if this has changed over the years, but 10% is quite reasonable in my experience. Of course, 0% would be even better, but for a platform as large as Upwork, 10% is fair.

Illustration Agency

2019-2021

By 2019, I had built a solid, consistent portfolio thanks to my personal work and commissions. I had a simple website in place, my Instagram following was growing… I was steadily working toward my goal of illustrating covers for big publishers (which didn't happen until two years ago).

So, when an illustration agency reached out to me one day, I was over the moon. I had always heard that artists were the ones who had to approach agencies, not the other way around.

Well, that should have been my first red flag.

I won’t name this agency because, unfortunately, I have nothing positive to say about it. In fact, the word “nothing” perfectly describes my involvement with them. Nothing came of this barely there experience.

The agency invited me to sign up, not on an exclusive basis, but they assured me they’d get me work. That work never came. Once in a while, I’d receive messages saying they were trying to pitch my portfolio to a French publisher or another client, but... nothing.

Please understand that meanwhile I was already working directly with shops and authors, so I don’t believe my portfolio was the problem. The real issue was something I didn’t realise at the time: some agencies do this. They feature talented artists in their catalogue without having actual clients lined up, just to appear more professional and credible to potential clients. Did this strategy work for them? Maybe. I’ll never know.

In 2021, I politely asked them to remove my portfolio from their website, and that was the end of it.

After that, I never actively sought out an agent again. By the time my portfolio was strong enough to approach a serious agency, I just didn’t need representation anymore.

Hireillo

2019-2022

My experience with Hire an Illustrator, or Hireillo, is mixed. At the time, Hireillo was a platform that hosted artists' portfolios, featured artist-submitted news, provided useful articles, resources, and directories of artists and agents. I joined the site hoping to catch the eye of publishers, but I was mostly contacted by authors and one fellow artist for a graphic novel.

Unfortunately, most inquiries didn’t go beyond the first couple of messages due to budget constraints. I did, however, have fun sharing news about my painting process and projects I landed on my own, which were often featured by the website. Additionally, if I had questions about 'complicated' things like copyright, or just needed advice, I could ask the website’s owner and that was incredibly helpful.

Despite these benefits, I didn’t see any real results, which was a little disappointing. The subscription fee was also... odd, for lack of a better word. $5 per week. In the end I just couldn’t justify the cost, so I stopped using the website altogether.

Reedsy

2019-2022

Finally, we come to the turning point.

I remember stumbling upon Reedsy randomly. It wasn’t very well known at the time, and I think it still isn’t. I was nervous when I submitted my portfolio because their catalogue features the best of the best: designers who’ve created covers for bestsellers, THE bestsellers, people who’ve worked on Stephen King covers, or George R.R. Martin's. Designers, editors, and marketers who are veterans. I didn’t have high hopes for my application. So, I was in shock when it got accepted.

I had an introductory Skype call with a representative from Reedsy, who explained how everything worked. Before the call ended, I remember asking if there was a good chance I’d get work through the platform. The rep laughed and said, “Yes.”

A few weeks in, I understood that laugh.

Reedsy has an overwhelming demand for book covers and commercial projects. For every designer there are many more clients. In peak seasons, I was getting requests almost every day. I’m not exaggerating.

Reedsy transformed my portfolio and my pricing structure. Thanks to the income I earned through the platform, I was finally able not to take everything that came my way but be selective and choose only the projects that really interested me.

The commission process is simple: artists pretty much decide how to split payments, what to include in agreements, and the best part, the most beautiful and helpful feature of all, they can request and adjust deadlines. For someone like me who's terrible with deadlines, this feature was a lifesaver. The admins are also very kind and responsive, available via email or chat.

Unfortunately (this is my last 'unfortunately', I promise), my time on Reedsy came to an end for personal reasons. I’ll explain since it’s no secret.

All my images on Reedsy were watermarked with my signature (my full name), which apparently violated the platform’s rules. Why? Because if a client saw my last name, they could contact me directly and bypass Reedsy, which meant the platform lost potential fees. I’ll admit this did happen a few times, but I had the good sense to redirect the client back to Reedsy.

After three years, an admin finally noticed and asked me to remove my full name from the watermark and any text on my profile. It was a simple and reasonable request, but here’s where the problem started. Profiles on Reedsy are public, and images appear in search engines like Google Images, meaning anyone could download my work and use it without permission. Sure, watermarks can be removed, but uploading my work without one in the first place felt like a bad idea. Btw, not only do I use watermarks, but I also use Glaze to protect my illustrations before sharing them online.

Anyway, for this reason, and also because I couldn’t get over the fact that full names were public at the time, something I won’t get into because, believe me, I tried over email, and my reasons went into the void (now, last names are just initialised, like Gabrielle R. Okay. Sure.), I had to close my account–they would have done it anyway because it was already 'flagged'.

Overall, if you’re willing to overlook the last name conundrum, I can’t recommend Reedsy enough. If you have a killer, solid portfolio and a love for books and editorial projects, go for it!

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

I hope you'll find this useful! If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask (: Oh, and here's an old article I wrote in 2020, titled:

Tips to freelance illustrators to avoid being screwed over

Who knows, maybe I'll write another 'article' post in four years!

Instagram  - ArtStation - Website - Inprnt - Etsy - TikTok

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Ramming Speed

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

The idea of ramming space ships into each other as a form of combat maneuver was beyond many galactic military minds comprehension.

A single spacecraft, let alone a military grade class vessel, would cost up in the billions of credits. Entire galactic economies had nearly bankrupted themselves trying to maintain a fleet large enough to secure their borders, so in turn each military ship became an asset not to be squandered lightly.

Perhaps it was this conservative mindset that nearly shattered when these powers first looked upon the Terran ship codenamed “The Ram”.

Unlike other modern vessels the ships of this new classification lacked all weapon emplacements. No energy cannons, missile launchers, rail guns; it was entirely free of weapons. What it did have was excessive amounts of armor plating, several separate shield generators, and a pair of overly powerful engines that could reach max speed in roughly five minutes.

The first time it was observed in combat was during the Terran/Crux war. Both powers had sizable fleets at their disposal and for the first couple months the two powers played cat and mouse games between each other; each trying to find a more advantageous position to commit their forces. Much to the dismay of both powers the first large scale battle was triggered by mere chance than a tactical decision.

A Crux patrol stumbled upon a Terran patrol emerging from a dense nebula in the Viper System. Both patrols requested reinforcements. Nearby patrols were soon diverted to the engagement and within short order what was a small skirmish ballooned into a full scale battle.

There were no battle lines or frontlines as ships opened fire at near point blank range with each other. Even when higher rank Admirals arrived to take charge both sides were too embroiled in the slugfest to make any more nuanced tactical moves without exposing themselves to the enemy.

It was here that the Ram emerged and showed its prowess.

Crux warship crews were not trained on how to handle enemy vessels rushing towards them. What’s more several gun crews became panicked when they saw the Ram ships rushing headlong towards them without diverting course.

With the extra armor and shielding the Terran ships not only struck head on into Crux ships but emerged from the attack relatively unscathed. In most cases the prow of the Ram ships punched clean through the entire hull of the Crux warship and emerged through the other side.

The Crux fleet desperately tried to regain order and form battle lines but each time they did so the Ram ships would plunge head first into their formation and take out the command ship coordinating the effort.

As more and more Terran ships arrived and formed their own battle lines the tide of battle soon drastically changed. After thirteen hours of intense fighting the last of the Crux fleet withdrew from the battle leaving the Terrans the victors.

A full fifth of the Crux navy was lost during the battle with the Ram ships having personally claimed 45% of the kills.

While the war itself would continue for another two years, the Ram ships and their unorthodox tactics had earned them a modicum of respect from the wider galaxy, and a great measure of fear from the Crux.

[echantedtoon]

Kinda like my last post but more poly. Auish so barely anything's cannon. Kimetsu Gauken based. Artwork not mine both found on Pinterest. Will probably contain some headcannons from my Kagamane x Reader headcannons post too.

-How did you catch the attention of these two couples? You literally had no idea.

-You only knew that you were Muzan's secretary before he hired Kokushibo to take over your job as he was 'better suited.' But unbeknownst to you, that was a way to just get closer to you by Muzan and his wife.

-You've been working for the couple for over two years having been hired by Two to help the both of them manage their companies. Muzan wasn't happy about his wife hiring someone without his say so but relented the because his wife was happy with you.

-You did a very good job honestly. Papers were always perfectly filed, and you were very organized and clean. You kept up with his own and Rei's Business deals separated unless needed to be combined. He couldn't remember how many times the last secretary mixed up their appointments and costed them time and money. You were also on time all the time everyday and had materials at the ready for whatever he needed.

-Rei was quite satisfied with your performance as well and he liked knowing his wife was happy so he didn't care about her inviting you to have small lunch breaks with her and their daughter.

-Their daughter was quite taken by you as well. Smiling and talking about how nice you were and how you had help her learn how to spell a big learn that won her spelling bee at school.

-Rei quite agreed you were quite a charming lady and she wouldn't mind having you around more often. He agrees.

-While you're professional and perficiant in what you do and your bubbly kind and positive personality added a bit of fresh air into the office and at the same time you weren't overly positive for him to find you annoying. If fact he quite looked forward to the way you treated him every morning with your bright smile and a cup of his favorite coffee. How you and Rei smile like old friends and get along so well. How his daughter is always excitedly bouncing around and showing off what cool new facts she learnt 'from the nice office lady'!

-Its inevitable they would find someone as cute as you unable to resist for long. It's not surprisingly Rei that brings up the subject first while at breakfast and he's reading a newspaper. "Dear, Y/n was so kind to teach our little darling how to easily spell arithmetic the other day." "Mmhm. Very nice." "You know I don't think we're really giving her a position she deserves. You've always said that I could use a personal assistant for my work." "Darling, you just read my mind."

-You are shocked when the happy couple announced that you were fired from your secretary job but they were moving you to be Rei's personal assistant. You gingerly try to reject the offer but they insist having already replaced you with Kokushibo who turns out if far more efficient.

-So begins your very awkward new job as Rei's personal assistant. Some of it isn't too different from your old job minus following her around during the day. You still file paperwork for her and handle calls if she's busy, but now you also did things for her such as getting her awkwardly massive food orders-

"I have your double shrimp salad bowls."

"Oh thank you. But I must've gotten too much. You eat the other one you've been working so hard and deserve some food."

And going shopping with her as she gifts you extra items she ..accidentally buys an item she didn't want.

"I have all your bags, Ma'am."

"Thank you. But it seems I accidentally bought the purple heels instead of black."

"Shall I call the store and request a refund for the shoes?"

"No need. You can keep them. They're your size anyways."

-You also start to help out Rei's husband by rearranging furniture in his office as he works and gauges your help in certain things.

"I want you to take this."

".... It's an address and..IS THIS THREE THOUSED DOLLARS?!"

"Yes. I'm thinking about buying a share at this new retreat but unfortunately I'm far too busy to go myself. Go check yourself in for a week and report back to me anything wrong with the place."

Even when you go, granted having a good time, and comeback with your positive feedback you don't see any shares listed for the retreat in the financial database. But he does use your help in other situations too-

"Is this a dinner reservation?"

"Yes. I'm interested in hosting a business dinner together with some investors next week. Go to the reservation and see if their food is up to my standards."

You are concerned when he sees no investors the next week.

-You start to get very awkward when Rei requests you start doing more personal things. Like tutoring their daughter and picking her up from school and playing with her when they're busy. And staying to have dinner with them multiple times a week even if you decline.

-You unexpectedly get a raise despite doing less work than your last position.

-You get invited on outings together to help watch their daughter but for some reason there's always a place set aside for you or the reservations always included a fourth person.

-You get random gifts with excuses-

"My daughter thinks it's your birthday and she'll be upset if I didn't at least gift you some flowers."

"Here. I never used this dress anyways and they got my size wrong."

"My wife misplaced her necklace so I ordered a new one for her. She just found the old one today so you may keep the extra."

-One day you pick up their daughter from elementary school and she's just happily chatting away in the back seat.

"I can't wait for Mother's Day. I'm gonna make you and Mommy the best cards ever!"

"Aw. You don't have to do that. I'm not even your mom."

"Not yet! You have to marry them first and I'm gonna be the flower girl!!"

"Haha! I'm not marrying your mommy and daddy."

"Huh? You're not?"

"Of course not. What made you think that?"

"Because Daddy says I can be the flower girl! Mommy even picked out matching dresses for all three of us in that fancy magazine!"

-Both are a mixed reaction when they receive your professional company email that very night explaining that the hours were starting to get bad for you so you were putting in your two weeks and using all your company vacation days for that entire week so they didn't have to trouble you for a final paycheck.

-Rei is absolutely shocked and very, very confused. Why did you suddenly quit? If the hours were getting to bad then they'd be happy to talk with you about it and rearrange things.

Muzan is pissed. How dare you just quit on such short notice?! After everything they did?! You didn't even have mind to tell them in person!

Both try calling you but get nothing but voicemail, their emails go unanswered as well. Their daughter is very upset. Why did you leave? Weren't you going to marry them?

-Unbeknownst to the couple you use the extra money from your sudden raise to move away to a new residence. Blocking both on your old email and phone before completely getting a brand new email address and number and being sure to block them again on those too before gathering up all the unwanted gifts up to mail them back being sure to include no return address.

-After laying low for about a month you decide to go back out to job hunt. Eventually finding a secretary position open at a local school after the old secretary retired! Perfect! You end up calling the number listed for the principal and she's nice enough to arrange an interview for you with her husband, the Chairman of Kimetsu Academy.

-The interview actually goes very well! Mr. Kagaya Ubuyashiki is a very kind man and his wife is also very kind and both of them were impressed with your resume. You got the job the day!

-You're a little out of your territory being in a a school setting but slowly things start turning. You start to really enjoy your job at the Academy. You've already made friends with a few teachers like Kyojuro and Gyomei.

-Students start to like coming to the office more because of how bubbly and friendly the new secretary is. The teachers start to talk to you more often and invite you to staff parties and outside work events. Events that you were free to DECLINE and no one was giving you an uncomfortable feeling.

-Was working your old job really that stressful? You couldn't remember the last time you actually felt appreciated or just had someone treat you normally.

-Kagaya thinks it's amusing watching you shyly peek into the doorway to his office with papers clutched into your hands and bashfully asking if you could come in. The way you so innocently look unsure of something or squeak out a question. It's adorable seeing your attempts.

Amane finds your sweet and bubbly personality is perfect for the job! Especially when she sees how much you love interacting with the students and always friendly towards her own children. When you shyly ask her for help with scheduling or ask where a certain file is, always puts a smile on her face.

-Speaking of the Ubuyashiki children, you adore the quintuplets! And don't mind watching them in the office for a little bit if Kagaya or Amane was running a little late or had to do last minute work. Because they always asked you if you'd be alright with it first and didn't expect you to do anything outside your job.

-Somewhere along the way they ask you politely if you'd like to have dinner with them without any expectations for you saying yes and you agree wholeheartedly. Making it a weekly thing where you all would all have dinner together Sunday night.

-Muzan and Rei really don't know where you went for the longest time until he just happens to mention you in front of Nakime who recognizes you instantly and reveals it to him.

-Muzan is absolutely RAGED to find out not only are you working for his cousin but seemed to be dating his cousin and his wife!! Rei has to hold him back and tell him to not do anything dumb before he goes to do anything actually dumb like storm into the academy and yell at everyone.

-Instead he furiously calls his cousin and DEMANDS to know what the hell he thought he was doing!! And DEMANDS to let him talk to you THAT INSTANT!!

"Oh yes. You're the really weird bosses she was talking about. How's your dating life going?"

"YOU FUCKER!! IF YOU DON'T DO AS I SAY I SWEAR YOU'LL PAY FOR IT ONE WAY OR ANOTHER!!"

"How do you both manage to get married but still pull no bitches combined?"

"YOU MOTHERFU-"

Rei later scolds him for cussing in front of their daughter at her cousins and for chucking his phone off their second story balcony.

-She tries to later apologize for his tantrums via calling Amane who firmly states that they were not to go near you but much more politely.

-Your're later very surprised to discover that Muzan and Kagaya are actually cousins but it doesn't change your opinion on the Ubuyashikis because of how well they have been treating you.

[bloodweep]

HIHI! DO YOU WRITE FLUFF? YOURE LIKE ONE OF MY FAVORITE WRITERS ON TUMBLR SO I WANTED TO ASK🤭 IF YOU DO, I WAS JUST THINKING ABT BROZONE (OR JUST JD) WITH A READER WHO ALSO MAKES MUSIC? YOU CAN HAVE THE HCS TURN OUT HOWEVER YOU WANT I JUST HAD THAT GENERAL IDEA🙏🏽🙏🏽

OKFG PLEASE IM NOT THAT GOOD

And yes I do 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 it makes me so happy and giggly like the bitch I am jfjfhfhfhfh

YOU KNOW MY HEART IS GONNA GO TO JD FIRST I WANT HIM IN EVERY WAY I CAN

━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━

JOHN DORY:

‗ ❍ I love him so much but I just know he would be a bit of an asshole at first, far better than before, don’t get me wrong! But he will still ask what you’re going and provide “tips” to make it better, but will be quickly silenced if you glared at him

‗ ❍ he is literally the definition of “oh I hate that man, I hate that man! But oh cara mia how I love him”

‗ ❍ after a while he would be silent and just listen to you, he would highly enjoy your music btw

‗ ❍ would get stuck in his head constantly where he is humming it wherever he is, bobbing his head to the beat

‗ ❍ would so just hold you close, arm around your shoulders watching you write away, nuzzling into your hair

‗ ❍ would beg to have a duet with you, no lie, will literally beg on all fours to have one

‗ ❍ UGH ITS STUPID BUT HE WOULD SO GRAB TOU AROUNF THE HIPS AND PULL YOU ALONG THE ROOM TO DANCE

‗ ❍ he would hold you so tight and kiss along your head while he sways with you and sings

━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━

Bruce:

‗ ❍ he would be so fun to write songs with, so attentive, leaned back and just listening

‗ ❍ wouldn’t say anything until you were finished and asked for tips

‗ ❍ “play it again” he would say just so he can hear your voice again and listen to the melody

‗ ❍ he would do this a few times before you caught on and playfully punched his knee

‗ ❍ he would just laugh and shake his head “nothing needs to be changed it’s wonderful ”

‗ ❍ he would so sing the songs you make while surfing too

‗ ❍ he’s your number one biggest fan, will fight anyone to get that position

‗ ❍ he will be the loudest person in the audience and dancing in the crowd

‗ ❍ sings it for his kids any song you create

━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━

Clay:

‗ ❍ he’s such a little nerd, would be vibing to anything so hard

‗ ❍ he will fight whoever even if it’s his own brothers to be the number one fan

‗ ❍ he would so teach you how to dance to whatever you’re writing

‗ ❍ his hands holding your hips to help you move better

‗ ❍ begs to hear you sing all the time because he likes it so so much

‗ ❍ makes up all your choreography for you, and isn’t upset if you desire to change it

‗ ❍ he would so so beg to dance with you on stage at least once (he’s a lair all the time he wants to dance with you forever)

━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━

Floyd:

‗ ❍ He would be so happy to see you write and create music

‗ ❍ he would relax back and listen with such a peaceful smile on his face

‗ ❍ he would so love to do duets with you too

‗ ❍ they would be so soft and gentle; you’re very mindful of what happened to him and don’t want to push him to hurt himself - even if he says he’s fine and can handle whatever

‗ ❍ holds your hands while you practice with him, showing you his full attention and encouraging you whenever you stumble or feel like you can’t get something right

‗ ❍ UGH his smile will be so fucking soft and gentle as he looks at you

‗ ❍ when he watches you from the crowd he is just smiling and dancing slightly the whole time

‗ ❍ UGH tells you how proud he is of you all the time, and you deserve all the fans and happiness

‗ ❍ if he ever preforms with his brothers he definitely invites you in and puts you right next to him - holding your hand tightly the whole time

━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━

‗ ❍ GOSH that stupid look he gives when he really loves someone??? That look the whole time

‗ ❍ fully understands if you don’t feel comfortable singing with him or in front of him just yet

‗ ❍ or even if you just want to do it on stage only

‗ ❍ if you feel self conscious about a song he will preform it with you and his brothers so you feel better

‗ ❍ never ever tells you to change it because there’s no such thing as “perfect” and a song is what is felt from within - things no such thing to be perfect

‗ ❍ every time you do sing in front of him he will drop everything he’s doing and listening to you

‗ ❍ he’s so giddy to hear you sing but doesn’t go over the top to stress you out

━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━

Im sorry it’s so short I struggle with sfw for some reason because fluff makes me so giddy and excited and I feel gushy

[sexydoffyman]

day 12 - THREESOME

Simon Riley, König

navigation

genre: smut

mdni

They were always eyeing you while staring each other dead in the eyes. You could've sworn they had some kind of rivalry going on. Both of them were guarding you, staring down anyone who looked at you even a little bit suggestive.

One thing was clear they, both had some level of interest in you. The way they looked at you was almost like how a predator would look at its prey.

Oh, you would end up in their spars eventually. You felt the tension between you grow. Every time one of them would sit next to you, you felt a tingly feeling in your stomach.

Every intended physical contact made you feel how much power they held. Either from their position or just their overall strength and size. They would purposefully put you into a situation, where you had to face them in some way.

Even the simplest things, like being in the same elevator as you and having to maintain eye contact. They loved to test you like that. They made you think they would do something when, in reality, nothing happened. But you knew, you knew they were doing this on purpose. And you knew that they were enjoying the shit out of every situation.

Even tho they had a little bit of rivalry between them, they decided to team up. You were walking through a hall, going for a jog. It was then that they appeared behind you. You got that feeling again. You understood their tactics, so you weren't as worried as you'd be if you didn't understand that they were trying to put an almost sexual tension in the atmosphere.

But this time, things were different.

König suddenly got in front of you and pinned you against a wall. His eyes were predatory. No words were exchanged. Ghost opened a door from a smaller storeroom and signalled König to walk in. König picked you up and carried you into the storeroom.

Ghost closed the doors behind you and looked back at you. The room was small but big enough for them to be able to move around. König leaned down to make eye contact, getting closer to your face.

Ghost pulled him away from you and picked you up off of the floor. He cupped your cheek to show you he wouldn't hurt you. You put your hands on his shoulders.

König pushed Ghost to the side, both of them now being in front of you. Ghost took his gloves off so he could get a better feel of your body. König unzipped his pants and slipped his dick out. Ghost groaned in annoyance, knowing that König will get to you firs.

König took off your pants and slipped in his dick. Ghost covered your eyes and lifted his mask a little to kiss you. All of their attention is pulled towards you. König pushed Ghost away entirely, making room for himself.

He gets a better grip on you and slams himself inside of you, making you whine from his size. Ghost tries to push König away at least a little. He wanted to get a taste of you so bad, unfortunately for him König wouldn't let him.

König kept increasing his pace while still making sure Ghost wouldn't get to touch you. Ghost was able to get one of Königs arms away from you and slip his tongue into your mouth.

König grew more and more frustrated with Ghost, and the same feelings were returned by Ghost. Let's say that they hate sharing. While they were busy solving their personal problems, you were senseless.

The amount of pressure König put on you made you feel stuff you never felt before. Ghost despised that. He was glad that he got to be so close to you, but he was greedy and wanted to have you all to himself.

Your whines interrupted their competition. And their eyes were on you again. You looked so messy, and they loved it. König couldn't handle it anymore, and with a few last harsh thrusts, he finished.

He gently put you on the ground, and Ghost took hold of you. He got his dick out and pushed it inside you. He towered over you as he fucked his way to his orgasm.

Soon, Ghost also finished as König watched. He put you in his lap softly, not wanting to cause you any harm. He then got his hand inside your pants. König realised immediately what Ghost was about to do, and he went to join the party.

[thepixelelf]

Oh Baby, You Part 50 - Cherry

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Idly, you watch the digital, red numbers above the elevator go up one by one. You’ve sometimes wondered if Mingyu hates the chairman’s office, considering its spot on the very top floor, and his genuine fear of heights. Then again, the building is an entirely closed space— he’s more of a bungee jumping scaredy cat than an Empire State Building one. 

You look down at the container of cookies you brought. They’re not his favourite, since you didn’t have all the ingredients for that, but you hope they’ll do. Before Mingyu’s complete integration into chairmanship, you used to bake together all the time. You know he’s better than you, (always has been,) but ever since that time you ended up in a baking summer camp together all those years ago, he’s insisted your cookies are the best.

Of course you know he’s being nice, but that’s just another great thing about Mingyu.

You’re wearing a mask over the lower half of your face, and Jeonghan said there’d be no one around to see you. Still, you walk through the halls with your head lowered and only lift it when you come upon Jeonghan’s desk.

He eyes the container. “You sure about this? I’m not even supposed to be going in there right now.”

“Don’t worry,” you say with a smile he can only see in your eyes. “If he’s truly upset, I’ll just leave him the cookies and go. But I promise I’ll try some other time to get you the vacation days you deserve, okay?”

“It’s really not that important…”

Playfully rolling your eyes, you head towards Mingyu’s office. “Whatever you say, Jeonghan.”

You pull on the thick metal handle of the door without knocking, and as soon as you walk in, Mingyu speaks without moving his eyes from his computer screen. “Not right now, Jeonghan. Just tell whoever needs me to—”

“Hey, stranger.”

His face immediately lights up upon seeing you, and you pull down your mask with a smile. Yeah. There’s your best friend.

“Sunshine!” Mingyu pushes himself to standing and quickly rounds his desk to pull you into a hug. “What are you doing here?” He retracts a bit to look at your face in obvious confusion. “I thought you and Jeonghan agreed we shouldn’t meet up here because of… you know.”

You step back and hold out the plastic container of cookies between you. “About Jeonghan…”

Sighing, Mingyu lets you put them in his hands. “Please tell me this isn’t about the whole ‘vacation’ thing… You know I can’t, Sunshine.”

“Why not?”

“It’s just not how things are done.”

“‘How things are done’? Mingyu, you’re the chairman. If there’s anyone who can change the way things are done, it’s you. Especially for someone who’s spent a good third of your life doing his best to help you.” 

He sets the cookies down behind him and takes one of your hands, letting your joined fingers dangle between you as he leans back onto the edge of his desk. “Look, I’d love to give Jeonghan some time off. I really would, but we’re in the middle of a lot right now—”

“You’re always in the middle of something here.”

“—and,” he continues, countering your little dig with a wry smile, “as much as I wish I could give everyone here time off, I’d need time to find a suitable person to fill Jeonghan’s position while he’s gone. That’s where the four months come in.”

You tilt your head, trying to summon those eyes that Mingyu would say he can never refuse. The problem is, you’ve never really been in control of whatever expression it is that he sees. “Surely you could find someone in less time than that.”

He chuckles. “I don’t know if you understand how good Jeonghan is at his job.”

“I have a pretty good idea,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

Mingyu glances at the door, and you turn to it as well, but nothing happens. “Speaking of,” he says quietly, returning your attention to him. “Where is Orion? With Soonyoung?”

“Actually, he’s at a daycare for a—”

“A daycare? Jeonghan didn’t tell me he arranged anything.”

You blink. “Well that would be because he didn’t. I set it—”

“What? Why?”

Pausing for a moment, you make yourself remember that this is exactly the thing you, Mingyu, and Jeonghan are always worried about. Oftentimes, you the most. Having some stranger spend just enough time with Orion to see his resemblance to Mingyu.

“Orion will be preschool age within this next year, so I thought maybe I’d transition to some in-person classes while he attends. The daycare would be for emergencies, or things like weekend exams, or…”

Or when you don’t want to burden your only friends for the rest of Orion’s younger years. 

Mingyu rounds his desk again and bends over in front of his computer. “What’s the name of this place?”

“Dream Daycare. It’s near—”

“You know that was careless, right? You should’ve asked Jeonghan or I to—”

“I looked into it. I went over like six places before—”

“Jeonghan would’ve—”

“He has enough on his plate—”

“—taken care of—”

“Mingyu!” Your raised voice manages to shut him up, but he only meets your eyes for a second before he goes back to his computer screen, investigating the daycare’s website. “I did the research. They had no idea who I was — not that anyone really does, since Jeonghan’s done such a good job keeping me anonymous thus far — and seeing as the place is mostly run by some sweet old ladies, they probably have no idea who you are, either.”

He sighs out through his nose. “Are they good?”

“What?”

“Good caretakers,” he clarifies, and you see the genuine worry in his eyes now.

Of course. You should’ve known that the revelation Orion’s true identity wasn’t Mingyu’s primary concern; his safety is.

Exhaling, you try to give Mingyu a reassuring smile. “Yes, Mingyu. They’re excellent. I only chose the place I thought was the best, safest, and kindest for him. He’s my son, after all.”

It’s small.

It’s so small, so short that you almost don’t see it, hear it. Almost miss it entirely.

But you’re certain that Mingyu… scoffs before he says, “Is he?”

For more than a few seconds, you’re frozen. Just slightly, your mouth parts, but you can’t seem to find the right words. Did you even hear him right?

“What… What is that supposed to mean?”

He shakes his head, still scrolling. “Nothing.”

“No,” you rebut. “No, tell me what you meant by that.”

“It’s really nothing.” Straightening himself up, Mingyu fixes you with an uneasy look. You just stand there, cross your arms, and wait for him to cave. It only takes a few seconds. “It’s just, with you telling everyone…”

You let out an affronted sound. “I did not tell everyone. And for that matter, it wasn’t exactly my choice to tell anyone anything at all.”

“Look, forget it. Just pretend I never—”

“But what does any of that have to do with Orion being my son?”

Mingyu takes in a deep breath, his hand coming up to his tie like he wants to wrench it loose, but he only fidgets with it. He looks away, then meets your eyes again. “With this many people knowing he’s not your son—”

“But he is! He is my son, Mingyu. And I am good at taking care of my son.”

It’s too hot in this room. Mingyu’s shoulders rise and fall with another sigh, and for some reason, you can’t stand the look in his eyes.

“I need a breather.” By the time the words come out, you’re already turning and walking towards the door of his office. “Don’t follow me,” you tell him, only because you know your best friend would.

Jeonghan stands up when you shove the door open and storm past his desk, a mix of concern and shock on his face. You must look as upset as you feel.

“I just need a second,” you say, and so he just watches you as you walk off, his mouth opening and closing, but no words coming out.

You have no clue where you’re going, but you think you had the right idea when you made that excuse to leave Mingyu’s office, so you look around for some sort of outdoor exit. A balcony, or something similar. Eventually, you find a staircase, which leads to what looks like a small terrace of sorts.

Only, when you pull the door open and breath in the cool, fresh air, you turn to the right and see someone leaning against the railing. His distant silhouette isn’t the most familiar, and he’s facing away from you, but considering this place, and the only people you know in it…

“Mr Choi?”

He turns, a white stick poking from his lips.

“I’m sorry,” you say, apologizing for interrupting what must be his precious alone time. Still, you really don’t want to go back inside yet. “I…” Your feet pull you a couple hesitant steps toward him. “...didn’t know you smoked.”

While his eyes focus in recognition, Seungcheol’s hand rises to pull the stick from his mouth. The motion reveals the head of a bright red, spherical lollipop. 

“Oh. That’s…” You want to say out of character, but you trail off. If you think about it, there isn’t much you know about Choi Seungcheol. “Sorry for assuming. I just wasn’t expecting…”

He says nothing for a little bit, just looking at you as you approach. His eyes seem to study you, and you resist the urge to squirm. When you settle next to him, resting your arms on the railing like he is and keeping your gaze on the cityscape, he finally looks away from you and peers at the lollipop instead.

“...I bought them for him,” he says.

You turn your head, squinting in the bright sunlight. “Who?”

“Your son.”

It’s a weird confession, to be sure, but he can’t know the way those two words affect you in that moment. That’s right. Orion is your son.

“But,” Seungcheol continues, unaware of the reason you needed the fresh air in the first place. He lets out a deprecating huff of a laugh, his head dropping for a second before he faces you again. The lollipop gets brought back up, and he taps it twice against his smiling teeth. “I might’ve gotten myself addicted.”

You can’t help it. You laugh.

Turning again to the skyline, your fold your arms on the railing and drop your chin to rest on them with a sigh. What a beautiful day.

Tap, tap.

You look at your elbow, where Seungcheol pokes a wrapped lollipop. Cherry. Your gaze rises to meet his.

“Something’s wrong,” he says simply, holding the candy out closer to you, silent but insistent.

Maybe he isn’t so unaware after all.

Wordlessly, you take the lollipop with a shy nod and a smile.

You don’t know why, but as soon as you close your mouth around the sweet, artificial cherry flavoured candy, the tears start to form. You hate that it’s now, with one of the very dangerous people to be vulnerable in front of, but you can’t seem to stop the blazing heat in the corners of your eyes. You don’t sob — don’t let yourself — but the tears fall despite your resolve.

It’s irrational, you understand, to be this upset. But it’s hard to believe yourself to be a good parent when you start doubting whether you’re a parent at all.

“Would you…” Seungcheol’s wary voice returns your attention to him. “...like to leave?”

You let out a laugh, embarrassed. He must be uncomfortable. “I probably should.”

As you push yourself off the railing, though, Seungcheol does the same. “Alright,” he says, then takes your hand, and you realize as he leads you back inside and through the building all the way to the ground floor: he’s not wary of you, but for you. “Let’s go, then. Somewhere nicer.”

For some unknown reason, you just swallow down all your trepidation, gently take your hand back, say, “Okay.”

And follow.

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[extasiswings]

Idk what this is but those new stills hurt all three of my feelings so have some angst.

“I don’t understand what happened to us. I don’t understand what changed,” Buck says, and Eddie freezes.

Because he knows. He knows exactly. Every big moment they’ve shared, the beautiful and the terrible, and all of the little ones in between exist in the back of his mind in one giant tapestry of memory. A pulsing, bleeding heart of a thing that he tries not to look at too closely because the fact that it is always there, so close to the surface, never letting him out of its thrall is sometimes more than he can bear.

It’s been years. Eddie’s gotten very used to being in love with Buck. Quietly, achingly in love with Buck, knowing he can’t have him but not being able to stop. Loving Buck doesn’t feel like a choice, it’s just a fact of his existence, rooted so deep and taking up so much space that Eddie can hardly recall being without it, the person he was before—before Buck, before LA and the 118, before tsunamis and shootings and lightning strikes. There are days when loving Buck overwhelms. When he can hardly breathe for the all-consuming nature of it. When the want is so fierce that he can taste it on his tongue. Most of the time though, it’s manageable. Like a radio on in the background, volume low enough that Eddie can ignore it. He can be almost clinical about it: fact—he is in love with Buck, fact—Buck is never going to love him back. It’s been years, so Eddie knows exactly how to handle these inconvenient truths, knows how to handle himself, has gotten used to them. He never expected anything to change, assumed that nothing could surprise him after so long.

But. Buck stood next to him in a cemetery and started talking about a woman he had only just met—a stranger—seeing him, understanding him like no one else, and Eddie—

Something in him broke. Some fragile bit of hope he hadn’t even realized he was harboring shattered, the shards slicing him to bloody ribbons.

And all he could really think was, Enough. Enough now.

Things changed then. He’s changed. Their relationship has changed. And he’s been telling himself that’s a good thing. It’s good, necessary even.

But Eddie doesn’t know how to deal with this. He doesn’t know what to say when Buck is sitting in front of him asking about it point blank while looking like a kicked puppy.

Part of him is angry. He resents being in this position, resents how long it’s taken Buck to say anything, resents knowing he can’t explain himself without revealing things he never wanted to. Mostly though, he resents the fact that after months of work—drawing a line in the sand and dating someone else, pulling away in an effort to establish real boundaries that might let him move on—he is still as much in love with Buck as ever.

Mostly though, he’s just tired.

“We’re still friends, Buck,” Eddie finally manages to say. “That hasn’t changed.”

“But something is different,” Buck insists. “If—you would tell me if I did something, wouldn’t you?”

Eddie drags a hand over his face, resisting the urge to touch his chest where a dull ache has bloomed behind his sternum.

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he replies. It’s not an answer, not to the question Buck actually asked, but it’s as much of one as Eddie thinks he can give. And it’s the truth—Buck hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s not a crime not to love someone.

“But—”

“Buck.” Eddie’s tone snaps, raw and sharp and jagged. It sounds foreign to his own ears, an unacceptable loss of control, but he is fraying badly at the seams and needs out of this conversation.

A stricken look crosses Buck’s face, and Eddie forces his voice to gentle as he quietly adds, “Please.”

Please drop it. Please don’t push. Please don’t pull this thread.

Please let me go. Just let me go. Please.

Silence stretches between them for a long moment as Buck’s eyes scan Eddie’s face. But finally, as if he heard all the different things packed into that one syllable, Buck nods once.

“Okay.”

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Ok, this is the last preview I'm giving y'all for this story! I know this one has taken a while but I very much appreciate your patience! I'm hoping to post the full thing either tomorrow or Saturday! Hope you like it!

Mild warning for ~grinding~

Special thanks to @luc1fersducky @animationmovieshipps @bat-boness and @misfitgirlwrites for letting me send you my process, you guys are amazing <3

"And where do you think you're going?," you asked coyly, stopping him in his tracks entirely.

“I umm, just uhh…giving you privacy?” He tentatively went for the handle again, but your arm shot out, keeping the door in its locked state.

“Oh, we’re way past decency here, Lucifer.” You maneuvered him away from the door and sat him down on the large white bench that was affixed to the wall. You leveraged your foot against the area just below his hip and rested one hand on the top of your thigh, the other on your hip. “Besides, you’re not really in any condition to be in the public view” leaning forward and shooting a quick glance down at his crotch, “now are you?”

Lucifer could only shake his head.

"Glad you agree," you smiled and pecked his lips, an almost inaudible whine leaving Lucifer's throat. "I have some more dresses to try on. You can look, but you cannot touch unless I say, alright?"

"Yes, love," he murmured obediently. You smiled and turned around to pick up the black dress you had let fall to the floor. You bent over slowly to pick it up, giving Lucifer a lovely view of your barely covered ass. You heard a deep inhale behind you followed by a shaky exhale.

You hung up the black dress and moved onto the next dress, a beautiful lavender colored Bardot dress with sleeves that hung off your shoulders. Luckily this one didn't have a zipper, you only needed to step in and shimmy it up your body. You liked this one more than the last, you did as few twirls in front of the mirror checking every single angle.

"What do you think of this one, hon?," you asked, looking at his reflection in the mirror. It seemed as though he was gripping that bench with just a little too much force.

"Ravishing," Lucifer breathed. You had given him permission to look, and he was taking fully advantage of your generosity. He was chopping at the bit, fighting every urge to pounce right then and there. Lucifer's eyes were hungry, his lips curled into a smile to try and hide how badly he needed you at this moment. You admired his will power...but how strong was it truly? You made your way back towards him, chuckling playfully. Without warning, your knees found their way onto the bench, now fully straddling the mess of a man beneath you.

"W-what are you-mmph!" Lucifer tried to ask you but was cut short by your lips suddenly on his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and placed a small peck to his forehead.

"You always say just the right things, Luci," you cooed as you began to shift your hips against him. Hearing the mangled moans coming from Lucifer was nothing short of euphoric. You noticed he had released his grasp on the bench and began to move towards your hips. You gripped the back of his head, his hair firmly between your fingers, and tilted his head back gently. Lucifer grunted softly as you brought your lips to his neck. "Ah, ah, ah, what did I say, love? No touching," you scolded, now sucking and nibbling at his tender skin, desperately needing to mark him.

Lucifer whined and reluctantly brought his hands back to their original position on the frigid bench that paled in comparison to the feeling of your warm body that was pressed against him. "I-I can't do this f-for much longer, darling," he whimpered, "I can only h-handle- hnng, so much, I...ssshhhhhhiiittt-" Lucifer's hot breath became increasingly labored as you continued to rock your hips against his painfully growing bulge.

Just then, you heard the sound of a door closing. Someone had just entered the room next to you. With the threat of being heard now looming, you lifted yourself from his neck to see that Lucifer's eyes had turned an ominous red. It felt as if his slit black irises were staring straight into your soul, attempting to burn you from within. He was losing control fast. But you weren't done with him just yet. With a smirk, you placed a finger over his soft lips. "Shhh," you whispered almost inaudibly, "you may want to keep your voice down from now on."

[solaiced]

CASE 22: YOU MOVE TOO MUCH, IEIRI SHOKO HAS A SOLUTION!

!content!: bondage, minimal toy use, and face sitting.

wc: 888

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

"I'm home." Shoko's voice is heard from the entrance, and she hears feet tap against the floor as you reveal yourself, smiling brightly.

"Welcome home, my love." Your arms spread for a hug,and she crashes into your embrace, dropping her bag

"Finally. I missed you." The doctor mutters, head shoved in between your plush boobs. You giggle, kissing her forehead while leading her to the couch.

Shoko lifts her head once she's seated, eyes questioning your attire tonight.

A red nightgown, lacy and see-through save for the top part and the middle, covering your nipples and lower regions. Her lips twist in an attempt to not smile. You, however, frown, thinking she was making fun of you.

"You don't like it?" Insecure, you pull away but she grabs you firmly to avoid you leaving.

“No, I was just thinking about how coordinated you and I are." Shoko gets up and picks up her bag, opening it and revealing red ropes.

Shibari ropes...?

"Matches your little dress" Her tired eyes check you out while she pulls out the red objects.

“Two rules," She states, putting the bag down as she saunters towards you with the ropes in hand.

"First, stop means stop. I don't want to risk it. Second, don't move too much. Or I'll have to stop. We don't want you getting hurt. Okay?"

You nod, “yes, ma’am.” So enthusiastic.

A few moments later, you find yourself tied up on the bed. Legs folded under you, hands behind your back, fully naked. The red ropes follow the expanse of your skin, wrapping around your tits, neck and thighs.

The culprit stands before you, naked, save for her panties.

Shoko reads over the instructions once more, then throws it away, approaching be bed, you sat on, tied up.

“Pretty girl.” She coos, reaching for the bullet vibrator on the bedside table. “You’re gonna be good.” It’s as if she's predicting your behavior, and doesnt leave space for disagreement.

"Yes ma'am." You joke, leaning towards her. The doctor tests the vibrations before deeming it safe, pressing the hot pink object to your exposed clit.

Surprised, you jerk against your bindings and groan, thigh muscles contracting.

“There we go. Lay down and eat me out, since your mouth is free." Shoke puts her hand on your chest, pushes you down and gets up to remove her last garment. Your mouth waters when she reveals her wet pussy as she approaches the bed.

You settle on the bed as comfortably as you can and open your mouth, awaiting.

“So impatient." The woman picks up the vibrators switch, adjusts the toy to your clit to ensure its position, and finally sits on your face.

“Look at you. So pretty.” You blush, your tongue darting out to lick her.

Shoko yelps, but regains composure and switches on the vibrator to the first level. You shut your eyes and moan loudly, knowing it would stimulate your girlfriend.

She tastes sweet and bitter at the same time, but she was definitely addictive. Her taste combined with the buzzing pressure on your clit was so good that you felt your orgasm approaching too fast.

Sensing your pleasure, Shoko takes it up a notch and doubles the intensity of the vibrator, making you jerk once more.

"What's wrong, sweet girl? Can't handle what you dish out? Too bad." The doctor coos, pouting mockingly.

She throws her head back when you suck harshly on her clit and thrust your tongue into her cunt. Your hands itch to touch her, but you couldn't, because you were tied up and at her mercy.

Shoko's brown hair sticks to her sweaty forehead, her brows scrunched up in a frown, eyes clenched shut, and pink mouth agape, releasing little moans and huffs.

Meanwhile, your legs had started shaking, wary of the upcoming orgasm. Just a bit more... You want to beg, but your mouth was full, so you pleaded with your eyes, looking up at Shoko with wet eyes.

She looks down, “you wanna cum?” You nod as much as you could, silently thanking her.

"Me too. Together, okay?" Once again, you nod and cry out as your girlfriend put the maximum on the vibrator, arching your back.

She tuts, reaching back to finger you. Her nimble fingers sink in your pussy, leaking juices on the sheets. You'll have to wash them, after this.

Soon, you tighten around Shoko's fingers, who was now fully riding your face, lost in her own pleasure, you stick your tongue out and let her slick run down your throat. You shake with effort, body warm and brain turned into mush.

"Now!" Shoko mewls, arching her back and opening her mouth on a silent scream as she reaches her climax. At her order, the coil in your belly snapped, making you join her in bliss.

Your vision turned white, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Shoko returns to the world of the living first, getting off of your face to let you breathe.

She undoes your binds while you recover slowly, careful with your sore limbs. She turned off the vibrator to avoid overstimulating you.

Your eyes flutter open, and you lick your slick-coated lips before speaking, "can I have a little kiss?" Shoko smiles and pecks you on the lips, happy to give it to you.