#i would love to write with you ! uwu

[jessamine-rose]

*squeezes aine this time*

Read my Yandere! Dottore fics first (⁎⁍̴̆Ɛ⁍̴̆⁎)

Chemistry ๑ Magnum Opus

So @ainescribe decided to surprise me with more Darling fan art, this time of Dottore’s Assistant!! *sobs* I love it so much ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

Once again, feedback will be in the tags. Thank you so much for enjoying my writing, Aine <3

[cloudd-nyne]

.

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Everyone's talking about Wish right now.... The only thing I can say about WISH.......let's hope it's like a Frozen 1 type thing. Where the trailers were ABSOLUTE ASS but then the film turned out really good. TT0TT

I mean.....there is a difference between the two. While the west got weird trailers that didn't matter for Frozen (Olaf vs Sven carrot thing), JPN and other countries got trailers that actually showcased the plot and drama in an interesting way.... And Wish.....well...... Wish at least gives us a villain and a part of an argument.....and I can't see that argument leading anywhere.....great tbh. So maybe not the best comparisons but let's hope for the Frozen 1 vibe!

Anyway I'm not liking what I'm seeing so far, but I'm hoping its better than the ass disaster Frozen 2 and Ralph 2 were. ;w;

[valiantstarlights]

Me and your boyfriend playing dress-up in my house

Your boyfriend gave me a good rimming on my couch

- Lord Byron, taunting Dream of the Endless

[cherry-bomb-ships]

One thing I've rly liked abt self inserting in PPG is that the time frame in my mind is 1999-2002 so when it comes to media my s/i engages with, I'm trying to keep that in mind and think about all the stuff that came out around that time that I love irl, so of course I'd be a fan of it back then too uwu

Look this is just my long winded prelude to saying that when the first Pikmin game drops in 2001, I would totally make Mojo a fan of it ehehehe 💖💖💖💖💖

[emcscared-whumps]

WiJ 2023 - 24: Earth (1/10)

WiJ 2023 Navigation Post

As I mentioned, these are basically snapshots of the first draft, so forgive me for being a little messy and unpolished ^-^'

Can't edit what isn't written after all ;)

Anyways, this is the first segment I actually wrote, so, have fun future me lmao

Beginning | Previous | Next

CONTENT and WARNINGS: Nonhuman whumpee, collapse and fainting, Cole getting squicked out by gills

wc: ~1k

“Thank you for meeting me,” Cole said, turning up his collar against a chilly bluster and burrowing further into his scarf. All he could think of was how silly he must’ve looked, all balled up because of a little breeze. “I know it’s not easy for you to come so far, but I thought you could... do with a break. You seemed quite stressed when I saw you last,” he added. Somehow, the shadows under those tired blue eyes seemed deeper than they were when he’d seen him last, as if he’d been unable to bask.

Unbothered by the sudden drop in temperature, Pete hummed a plain response. It was more of an acknowledgement than anything, and not a talkative one. Slightly prickly, even.

Cole tried to meet Pete’s eyes to gauge what the young man was thinking as they slowly walked through the city, but his downcast gaze never stayed still; when his eyes weren’t clearly tracking the people exiting various shops, they flitted over openings and gaps, puddles, and over his shoulders.

Cole hesitated before speaking again, “Let’s get going before the weather turns, maybe we can find something to eat, my shout.”

Pete hummed again.

Ensuring his concerned gaze didn’t linger and give him away, Cole fell into step behind Pete, matching his pace but allowing him to lead, ensuring that he watched Pete’s back more than he accommodated him; he knew how quickly the young belunae’s mood could turn when he thought he was being coddled, or hadn’t the patience to ignore it.

Cole understood that feeling far too well; adjusting to having someone look out for him after years of isolation was difficult at best, and at worst... it could feel suffocating and infantilising, and when that happened, how easy it was to keep those walls built high.

An ache throbbed in Cole’s heart.

Pete is so close to having someone, he thought, that nice friend of his, Timmothey Paige. He’s a good kid, he tries to be there as much as he can, he’s trying a lot harder than anyone else, but Pete needs to open up, he can’t keep isolating himself.

Cole’s thoughts wandered from there as he took in the details of their surrounds; Wasn’t he the one who offered to accompany Pete each moon...? Was he there the last moon?

Before Cole could react, Pete suddenly stumbled forward. His boot caught on an uprooted paver, and when as he tried to steady himself, his cane slipped from under him, and his leg gave way before Cole could catch him.

“Shit—!" Cole exclaimed, kneeling and offering his arm to Pete who laid braced on the ground, biting back cries with pained gasps. “Are you hurt?”

Pete’s eyes cracked open and fixed Cole with a cold, hostile glare, “Of—of c-course,” he ground out, refusing his help, “but n-not—not worse. I’m f-f-fine.”

He stood, a pang of guilt settling in his stomach. He knew better than to badger, but he still felt awful for making the Pete slowly regain his footing himself. To make matters worse, a car flew by, ignorant of the dip where the previous night’s rain had been pooling, splashing everything in its wake, including Pete, who still knelt on the ground.

Shit!

Pete’s eyes widened and his lips parted breathlessly.

As much as he tried to hide it, Cole knew he couldn’t breathe and urgently needed privacy to recover, but when he tried to offer his arm again for Pete to lean on, Pete took it to haul himself to his feet and clumsily pull away, only to hit a wall and slide until his body leaned against a decorative pillar.

“Hey, hey, let me help,” Cole said, moving to subtly block any prying eyes.

Pete’s chest heaved but moved no air, and the hostility in his eyes morphed into fear. He shook his head, unable to voice the words he mouthed; don’t want—!

“Pete. Your scarf is drenched. You need to get it off right now if you don’t want to shift,” Cole murmured urgently. “You can have mine, just let me help, please.”

Finally, even as his eyes started drooping, the young man saw sense and with a small nod, allowed Cole to work quickly, unravelling the knots of both scarves as he gulped air down and fruitlessly forced it through his gills once they were free from the weight of the completely drenched wool.

It was a truly unnerving sight. Cole dragged his gaze away, but even as he focused on gently re-wrapping his own warm, dry scarf around Pete’s neck, the bright red of his gills’ filaments were never out of sight.

A short, sickening gasp followed by quick, shallow coughs brought Cole back to his senses.

Pete tried to position himself to stand, still gulping the air.

“Hey—Pete please wait, damnit,” Cole started, but Pete slumped into Cole’s chest and his eyes fell shut; his initial hesitancy finally took its toll.

Cole, unprepared for the sudden weight managed to wrap a protective arm around Pete’s limp body to stop him from falling, and catch himself before he hit the ground too.

Powers— Cole panicked.

A second ticked by, and still no breath.

Shit—

Another—

Shallow rasps sounded, and short coughs wracked Pete’s frail body.

Relief flooded Cole’s body; Pete was breathing again, he was still alive. The process was frightening to witness, and Cole didn’t want to know how terrifying it would be to suffer it regularly.

Not being able to breathe was—

No.

 Cole shut that memory down the instant it surfaced.

Pete groaned weakly and coughed, but made no move to push Cole away.

Taken aback but unwilling to disturb the strange peace, Cole swallowed and kept perfectly still, as if a shy kitten had rested its head on his hand.

“We’d better find some place to rest,” he murmured.

Beginning | Previous | Next

Taglist:

@a-crumb-of-whump

@dang-i-like-whump

@gem2117

@nowjustanothermain2notjudge

@painful-pooch

@pigeonwhumps

@whump-cravings

@whumplovers-collaborate

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

@willowtreewhump

If you would like to be added or removed, please let me know <3 More info [here]

[lovelesslittleloser]

15,503 words of bullet points for a mash-up of too many varieties of the same subject

Five books planned, two prequels two sequels, the original story is the least interesting part

Twenty-five half-planned chapters of vaguely-connected casefic oneshots

And I’ll never finish writing any of them.

[steelandblood]

Red Hot

Summery: Armor is supposed to protect you, but of course Mirwen was unlucky enough to face the enemy that could use it agains her.

Content: Female whumpee and caretaker, dnd/fantasy whump (no actuall knowledge of dnd needed, relevant spell description in the end), 3rd degree burns, and a very miserable time for whumpee

Caracter intros

Mirwen should have known it was a trap the moment they walked into the room. Really, she should have known there would be a trap simply because they did not encounter one yet, and no matter that the others had gods looking out for them, with her shitty luck things could never be easy. So, when the doors slammed shut behind them and a huge mechanical creature descended with a thud and began advancing at them, while the others started to mildly panic, Mirwen only cursed under her breath and drew out her sword. Quite honestly, she had been craving for a fight, and though this thing wouldn’t bleed and wouldn’t be able to properly die, it would still feel nice to brutally destroy something.

Mirwen’s enthusiasm for the fight quickly disappeared as she again felt the shock of a current running through her armor to her body. Just her luck that the bloody thing was especially affective against foes in metal armor, and it just so happened that three out of the four of them did wear said metal armor. This meant that Thancur and Rauna were forced to stay back with Calina, leaving Mirwen alone in melee. Not that she minded, it was her role after all, and she gladly took hits to protect her friends. And they were doing everything they could, Thancur and Calina relentlessly shooting the construct and Rauna doing her best to heal Mirwen, but it didn’t make the hits hurt any less.

And the hits only kept coming, as the damn thing refused to die. Just when Mirwen started to get used to the electric shocks, she felt her armor suddenly grow red-hot and she had to bite her lip bloody to stop herself from screaming from pain from the sensation of her entire body being set on fire. She kept fighting through the pain, but with every moment it became harder to focus on swinging her sword when she felt like she was being cooked alive inside of her armor.

Everything became a haze of pain and when the construct finally collapsed into a heap of metal in front her, it took Mirwen a minute to realize that the fight was over and that her armor was no longer burning. Her sword clattered to the floor, were her hands shaking? That was wrong, she should be able to handle a bit of pain. And yet her knees buckled and would have painfully hit the ground, had Rauna not caught her.

“It’s okey, you’re fine, it’s over. Let me heal you now.” Rauna made her sit down and began removing her armor.

The relief of having the heavy armor off was short lived, as Rauna quickly removed the gambeson and moved on to removing her shirt, that painfully stuck to her burnt skin. Mirwen couldn’t stop herself from crying in pain before biting hard on her lip to keep herself quiet. Rauna stopped, giving Mirwen a moment of hope, but then reached for her dagger.

“Please don’t… don’t do this. Please…” Mirwen was on the verge of tears from pain and embarrassment. She normally considered anything less than full armor a state of undress, and now with the pain involved in the prosses, Mirwen would have rather died then taken off her shirt.

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts, but the shirt has to come off. You know you can’t leave it like that, and I need to see what I’m doing. I promise I’ll be as careful as I can.” Rauna said, and without giving Mirwen any time to protest, started cutting away the fabric, as Calina hastily pushed Thancur out of the now unlocked door.

Mirwen squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep tears from spilling. Only when she heard both girls gasp is shock did she open her eyes, and instantly regrated it. Her shirt was off, revealing her chest that was entirely covered in severe burns. The sight, combined with the smell of charred flesh, made Mirwen lose her breakfast. She no longer cared about the tears running down her cheeks.

Calina put a flask of water to her mouth. Mirwen really wished for something stronger, but drank eagerly, hoping to get rid of the vile taste in her mouth.

She felt a hand of her shoulder. Mirwen flinched at the sudden touch, instinctively crossing her arms to cover her breasts, and involuntarily let out a sob.

“I’m sorry,” Rauna immediately removed her hand, “Is it okey if I start healing you?”

Mirwen nodded, not trusting her voice. She sighted in relief at the sensation of Rauna’s cool hands on her skin. It was over far too soon however, and Mirwen whined at the loss of the healing touch.

“That’s all I can do for now,” Rauna said sadly, “I’ll be able to heal you more tomorrow.” She paused for a moment, hesitating. “It will probably scar though.” Rauna sounded guilty and apologetic. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

Mirwen looked down at her chest. The burns looked almost as horrible as they did before healing, and she doubted her back looked any better. Of course it’s going to scar. It’s going to look horrible. But it didn’t matter. Mirwen had no reason to need to be pretty. The only reason would by Alysa, but it’s not like she ever truly had a chance. Now at least she wouldn’t be able to needlessly get her hopes up, only to have them crushed. It was better this way. It was fine.

“It’s fine, it doesn’t matter.” Mirwen wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince, Rauna or herself. She avoided the others’ pitying looks. If any of the girls knew she was lying, they mercifully stayed silent and did not call her out.

“We can’t just leave it like that, I need to bandage you up.” Rauna looked between the three of them, searching for an appropriate cloth, her gaze stopping on Calina. “Calina, I’m gonna need your cloak.”  

Calina took off her cloak without protest, handing it to Rauna, and they both started teering it up into thin strips.

“I’m so sorry, I promise I will get you a new one.” Mirwen knew it was a lie and knew Calina knew it as well. The cloak probably cost more than all of Mirwen’s cloths and armor combined, and there is no way could afford to replace it in the foreseeable future.  

 “Do you really thing I care about the stupid cloak?” Calina sounded somewhat sad, but not angry. Mirwen didn’t know why, or if it was better or worse. “You are hurt, you could have died!”

“I’m sorry, I should have done better.” Mirwen lowered her eyes in shame, “I suppose I’m not as good of a fighter as I like to believe.”

“Mirwen, no. That’s not what I meant.” Calina sounded even more sad. Of course Mirwen managed to fuck up and say the wrong this to upset her.

“We are just worried about you.” Rauna sounded upset too, and Mirwen wasn’t even sure what she said that was wrong.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“You know you don’t have to apologize all the time, right?” Rauna started wrapping the make-shift bandages around her torso.

“I’m sorry, I…” Rauna sighed and Mirwen cringed at her mistake and forced herself to refrain from apologizing again.

An awkward silence set in as Rauna continued her work. Thankfully she was quick and soon enough she was helping Mirwen back into her armor. They still had the rest of the fortress to clear, and who knows what they might find, or what might find them. When they return to town Mirwen would probably get as drunk as she can, and cry, or punch a wall until her knuckles bleed. But now she needed to be strong, that was her role and the others relied on her, so she will pretend to be strong, no matter how weak she actually felt.

[isekyaaa]

I really want to one day make a typical otome game and spend a good amount of time advertising it. All the romance interests are clearly laid out. I'll release demos and character sheets. I'll make sure everyone knows the characters very well and which one they want to go for, so when the game comes out, everyone will know what to expect. And for the most part, everything does follow their expectations. Once you know what to do, getting the love interests to fall is easy. That is, all until they get to a certain route.

It first starts off weird when they don't appear where the guide says they're supposed to. After a few reloads, you finally find them on the complete opposite side of the map. But... there seems to be something off about them. They're not smiling like how they did in all the advertisements. And when you try to appeal to them, they react in disgust.

You try to follow up with them, but they're never in their favorite places. You find out in a rude awakening that they hate the gifts the game guide promotes. The more you try to capture their heart in the way you should, the more they come to hate you.

Eventually you get the bad ending, so you try your hand at him again. You begin utilizing the quick save/quick load option more and more. You make sure he responds well to every interaction you have with him. And at first, it works great. But slowly, things begin to change. He begins to avoid you. He regards you with suspicious eyes. In the end, you get a bad ending once more.

You try again and again with different combinations, but no matter how much you try, you can't get the good ending. Eventually you get fed up and decide to throw caution to the wind. You decide not to follow any otome logic anymore and decide to respond to his interactions how you would in normal life. And without even realizing it,

You get the good end.

[newbiealliance]

my time in the hfjone fandom is just one big "he would not fucking say that" moment

[pridefallen]

»» ──────ஓ๑♚๑ஓ ────── «« ᴛʜᴇ ᴇxʜᴀᴜꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴍᴀɴ is curled up in his chair in his study, his baby son curled against his chest, the two SNOOZING away together.

[mostunwantedfbi]

“you have to go on without me.”

THE MOST CLICHÉ LINES OF DIALOGUE

"Oh no you don't-"

As much as it probably would be easier to leave the writer behind, Agent Mulder couldn't deny that he needed Wake. This was far beyond the simple need of survival and there was something about him that made it feel like he was the most valuable thing on planet Earth. Agent Mulder gripped tightly to Wake's wrist with the pressure of a vice. It was very clear that he wasn't going to let him get very far without him.

"You're coming with me," Agent Mulder asserted, "We got into this mess together and so help me we are getting out of it together. None of this hero bullshit, you get me?"

If there was one thing that was to be admired about the FBI agent, it was certainly his dogged determination. Agent Mulder couldn't let go of something once he had his teeth in it, often to his own detriment.

@champion-of-light

[sutorus]

THE GRUDGE PROFESSOR!GETO for KINKTOBER 2023!

DESCRIPTION: everybody loves professor geto, and judging by the thousands of viewers you get on every live, a lot of people love you, too. but you and professor geto hate each other. you’ve had enough of his humiliation rituals, and decide to do something about it.

PAIRING: mean professor!geto x student!reader

WC: 5.3k i am an unstoppable beast

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, teacher/student dynamic! adult age gap! (reader is in college, unspecified age), sw/camgirl!reader (don’t like don’t read! no shaming 😤), strong language, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel, darling), reader calling geto "sir", unprotected relations, creampie, afab reader and terms

A/N: this switches between povs a lot so i hope that’s okay or at least readable lol! also i set out to write him so much meaner but he’s just kind of a simp... enjoy?

reblogs are very much appreciated i'll uwu for u :pleading eyes emoji:

it is said that those who cannot do, teach. 

geto suguru could have done many things. he had the brains, the muscles, the features, the traits. the ambition to succeed in any field he desired. satoru says in a world ruled by the strong there is no place for humility. 

but humility is not why suguru became a teacher. neither is ineptitude. no, he’d become a teacher because it was the right thing to do. 

to use his gifts to help shape new generations, help unlock potentials long dorment and buried deep under years of a lackluster schooling system. geto suguru prided himself, above all, in being a righteous man. 

but japan’s most upstanding citizen for 28 years in a row held a shameful secret. a secret in the shape of you. 

he saw the darkest sides of himself on your face (eyebrows scrunched, eyes shut tightly, jaw slack as you—), your voice (higher in pitch with desperate moans that sound almost scared on the brink of your—), your body (taut and plump in all the right places, glistening with sweat, bouncing up and down on a—). 

when you walked into his classroom that fateful day, the world tilted on its axis. his first thought was, fuck, then, it can’t be, then, most embarrassing of all, i’ll finally find out what she smells like. 

(he did, when you went up to his desk to hand over your test. a whiff of vanilla, argon oil shampoo. too sweet, too youthful. and he’d watched you leave, tennis skirt flowing like a water lily, dick already chubby in his pants.)

it was slowly starting to consume him.

the first time you spoke in class, he knew he hadn’t been mistaken. it was really you. the cute, slutty girl he’d been milking his cock to for the better part of a year. 

god, when you finally said his name. you would never in your wildest dreams think that he’d been imagining those words coming out of your mouth, of him coming out of your mouth, dripping out of you, all over you—

he was losing it. this was not like him. this was never supposed to happen, and he has to put an end to it. 

everybody knew of geto suguru, the prodigy professor. already getting a phd despite not even being 30, handling the administrative slack for the department while managing office hours every day of the week, promoting student events, helping organize spirit weeks and charity drives. 

everything he did, he did for others. those not as capable as him — which was most people. in other words, it was really, really hard to hate him. 

but you damn well managed to. 

and to think you were excited to take his class. everybody told you to run, not walk, to sign up for his twentieth-century Japanese philosophy chair. 

“oh, professor geto is just the best,” they’d said. “he makes it sound so interesting and engaging, he gives the most life changing assignments, he really cares about us.”

bullshit. 

the first time you stepped into that classroom, suspiciously full for a philosophy class, you felt a shift in the air almost immediately. 

and sure enough, professor geto suguru was eyeing you down like he’d just seen a ghost. it made you self conscious, like he’d taken one look at you and decided right then and there you were too dumb for the class. 

it made your blood boil. sure, you stood out a little bit from the actual philosophy majors, but that doesn’t mean he gets to judge you. he literally doesn’t know you!

but fine, first impressions are tricky like that. for all you knew, you could’ve been misjudging him right there. 

however, with each passing day, you grew more and more assured in your suspicions.

you knew the man had it out for you, always calling on you to answer when he knew you weren’t paying attention, never grading your papers above a B even though you did everything right, somehow managing to fucking avoid you during his excessive office hours. 

his looks were almost the most infuriating part of it.

his beautiful face constantly set in that nonchalant look, his big veiny hands always gesticulating, his huge fucking arms straining the fabric of those dress shirts, his ear gauges and man bun contrasting the prim and proper image the rest of him conveyed. 

under different circumstances, he’d make your mouth water. under different circumstances, you’d imagine him going down on you all night long, singing praise about how good you taste and how tight you are. 

but in this timeline, you absolutely loathed him. and he loathed you too. why? you didn’t know. 

but you knew for a fact that it was personal. 

“i don’t care,” megumi said around a mouthful of meatball, cutting your monologue short. “i’m not doing it.”

you sigh, melting into your chair. “megumi. please. i am literally begging you, i just need some hard evidence so i can go report his ass.”

he eyes you curiously. “report him for what?”

“i don’t know. bullying? sexism? whatever the hell his problem is,” you pick at your food, huffing in annoyance. 

“you’re overthinking it,” megumi replies, dismissively. 

“okay, how about this,” you lean forward, putting an elbow on the table. “if you write the assignment for me, i’ll get your dog that expensive halloween costume you’ve been wanting.”

megumi lifts an eyebrow. 

“you need to get one for each,” he says simply. 

you grin. “deal.”

suguru really does give it his all to make your life with him a living hell. pulls out all the stops, years of friendship with gojo satoru paying off as he comes up with ploy after ploy to get you to drop his class. 

it feels bad, being mean to you. but for the hidden, twisted parts of him, it feels delicious. 

watching you huff and puff, all hot and bothered when he corrects your answers on the spot. watching you nibble on your pen at the increasingly difficult exams he hands out. letting himself wonder if you missed a stream this week because you were too busy cramming for a make up test. 

he knows he’s pushing you to your limit, and even if there’s some sort of sick satisfaction in seeing you so agitated at his hands when it’s usually the other way around, he doesn’t enjoy upsetting you. 

the problem is, suguru knows it’s either he gets his shit together or he continues tormenting you, and, well. 

the spirit is willing but the flesh is so, so weak. 

he knows it’s getting worse, too, because he’s not infatuated by you only when you’re undressing on his screen, or all dolled up in class. 

when you tie your hair up in a ponytail, when you suck on a hangnail, when you lick your thumb to erase a smudge on your paper… all of it drives him wild. 

he can’t teach with a permanent half chub anymore. this has to end, one way or another. 

you sit down in front of your computer, adjusting the camera before turning it on. soon, viewers start trickling in, little dings notifying you of their messages. 

you smile, waving at the screen. 

“hi everyone! i know i’m a little bit late today, i hope you can forgive me…” your eyes scan the chat, giggling at the compliments. “‘you look tired, sad face’, ah. i’m sorry. i guess i’ve been a little stressed lately.”

your robe falls over your shoulder as you readjust your position. a few donations come in, accompanied by supportive messages.

“you guys are so nice. it’s not a big deal, it’s just this dude giving me a hard time at college.” 

you absentmindedly trace your collarbones, reading what your viewers are saying. 

“you’ll kill him for me? that’s so sweet,” you joke. “nah, it’s not a student. it’s a professor. exactly, ynlover444, a grown ass man picking on me!”

you sigh deeply, allowing your body to finally unwind and relax on your chair. you prop a knee up against the armrest, giving your viewers a little peek in between your legs. you’re wearing one of your favorite sets, trying to get in the mood after the week you’ve had. 

“ugh, sometimes i wish i could just…” you suck in a breath, clenching your hand into a fist before releasing it. “sit on his face and get him to shut up, you know?”

you laugh at the countless me firsts that flood the chat, bringing a finger to your lip. 

“anyway! enough about that horrible man,” you reach beside you to grab a box your viewers know all too well by now. “let’s get to the fun stuff, shall we?”

as always, satoru is no help. 

“why don’t you just fuck her?” he asks, eyebrows arching above his sunglasses. “ya gotta just fuck her.”

suguru clears his throat before taking a drag of his cigarette. “i’m not fucking a student.”

satoru shrugs. “everybody does it. besides, you basically already do.” 

suguru wonders, not for the first time, why he ever told his friend about his situation. about your streams, that he’d stumbled upon randomly and innocently and had gotten instantly hooked, about you barging into his classroom like an angel at hell’s gates, about you you you you, everything about you. 

“that won’t fix anything.”

satoru clicks his tongue, swirling his soda inside the can.

“poor, naive suguru. did you not just tell me about what she said on her stream?" and yes, regrettably, suguru had told him. "it’ll fix everything.”

suguru doesn’t even let himself consider it, except he does.

at this point it’s no secret that he’s thought about being inside you, but now that you’re here it’s just too real and too risky and completely fucking wrong. 

it goes against the entire life he’s built for himself. 

he’s lost. he wants you so fucking bad, wants you close, wants you so far away, wants to ravage you and never have to see you again. 

it’s fight or flight. if he got you alone, it could go either way, he realizes that. 

suguru wonders what part of him will win by the end of all of this. 

your heels clack on the linoleum floor of the hallway as you approach professor geto’s classroom, megumi’s graded paper clutched tightly against your chest. 

the thing about megumi is that he's a star student. he’s never gotten anything below an A on any of his essays, makes the dean’s list every year, tutors his seniors. so the big, bright B- on the page tells you everything you need to know. 

damn right it’s personal. 

you don’t even bother knocking, slamming the door open while still trying to contain your indignation. 

geto is sitting at his desk, piles of papers sprawled on top. he has his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows and a surprised look on his face that would be cute if you didn’t want to slap it right off. 

he says your last name like he’d been expecting you all his life.

“to what do i owe the pleasure?”

your jaw clenches as you take a few loud steps towards him. you slam megumi’s paper down on his desk, leaning over. 

“professor geto, i demand an explanation. a real one, this time.”

the man takes a deep breath, lips twisting disapprovingly. he smoothes the paper over.

“as i already explained in my notes right here, the structure is fine, but i couldn’t help but miss a more in-depth analysis of the four nodal concerns of philosophy that we talked about in class, such as—“

“no,” you interrupt. “just no. you know you’re bullshitting me and i’m sick of it. this paper deserved an A!”

“miss—“

“what’s your problem with me?” you spit out. your eyes finally meet and there’s nothing in geto’s that could answer your question. your chest is heaving, lips wobbling and hands shaking, trying to contain your anger. 

geto clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “like i said, your paper could’ve used a bit more—“

“no it fucking couldn’t have, because it’s not my fucking paper, it’s fushiguro’s fucking paper and the only reason you gave it a B is because i was the one who handed it in!”

he sits up, straightening his posture.

geto sounds austere when he asks, “do you realize how much trouble this could be for both of you if i reported it?”

you can’t believe this man. he’s been picking on you the entire semester and when you finally confront him about it this is what he chooses to focus on. 

“are you fucking kidding me?” that earns you a stern look from him, eyebrow raising taller than that fucking high horse he sits on. “professor geto. what did i ever do to you?”

there must be something earnest in your voice because geto sighs, getting up from his chair. 

he walks until he’s standing in front of you, leaning against his desk and crossing his feet. 

“do i bother you?” is all he says. it surprises you. 

you jut your chin out. “as a matter of fact, you do.”

the man hums. 

“i bet that’s really difficult for you,” he speaks like he’s sympathetic, like he understands. he sounds almost sheepish when he says, “i bet sometimes you wish i would just shut up.”

you blink rapidly. “no, it’s not like that. it might shock you but i genuinely do enjoy your class, it’s just that—“

“or maybe you wish you could shut me up,” he continues, ignoring you. “maybe going as far as to say that you could… sit on my face to get me to shut up.” 

your mouth goes dry.

before your brain can fully process the shift in the atmosphere or the fact that your professor is maybe possibly hitting on you, you realize where those words are coming from. 

it’s what you said. about him. on stream. right before fucking yourself on your hot pink dildo. 

you can’t speak, can barely even look in his general direction. 

you had really thought things couldn’t get any worse. had barged into his office with nothing to lose, almost hoping he would cordially invite you to remove yourself from his class permanently. 

but now? now you have no idea what’s going to happen to you. 

“i…” you start, the words dying in your throat. geto chuckles, crossing his fat fucking muscly arms across his chest. 

he says your name, low and syrupy. “is it true? you’d like to?”

you can feel your face flush hot in embarrassment, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other, wishing desperately that you’d never walked into his classroom. 

you have half the mind to apologize to him, right now.

“it’s just a figure of speech,” you try. geto clicks his tongue. 

“what a shame.”

your wide eyes shoot up and meet his. “w-what?”

he smiles sweetly. 

“it’s a peace offering. you can take it, or we can forget you ever said anything,” and isn’t he just so slimey, actually, when he’s the one who brought it up. he had said it, and now… 

now you can finally allow yourself to look at him.

those delicious, broad shoulders, the ever-present bored look, the stubborn fringe that falls out of his bun. 

you could so easily forget what you came here for. 

“so, like, a truce?” you ask, taking a daring step forward. geto nods, uncrossing his arms. “and you stop treating me like i’m fucking dumb?”

he tilts his head. “i think you’re a very smart young lady. determined. entrepreneurial…”

“geto—“

“professor geto,” he corrects you, hands reaching out to graze your hips. “you’re intelligent. i just like to push my students.”

you both know that’s a lie, but it’s okay, because now you know exactly why you got under his skin and it makes your own burn. 

you run a hand down the line of buttons on the front of his shirt, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

“then… push me, professor.”

it’s so incredibly lame, the porn line you hit him with, but to your surprise it works, a low groan rumbling deep in geto’s chest. 

he swiftly closes the distance between the two of you, grabbing both sides of your face and crashing your lips together. 

it’s ravenous, the way geto dips his tongue inside when you gasp in surprise. you moan against his mouth, slipping a leg in between his two. 

he’s half hard already when he rubs up against your thigh. 

geto picks you up with ease and sets you down on his desk, and it’s so fucking cliché, the papers crinkling under your weight, the pens clattering to the floor. but it turns you on beyond belief. 

you share a few open mouthed kisses, an exchange of tongue and moans and hot breaths between your lips. 

if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit that you've fantasized about it before. a silly idea, at first, something you'd just blurted out mid-stream.

but that little seed had been planted, and when you got yourself off that night, you might've imagined for a moment that it was your mean professor's cock squeezed tight inside you, making you come undone.

geto slips his hands under your skirt, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to him. you line up your crotch with his, moving your hips in tight little circles that make the both of you groan. 

his fingers are tugging your underwear down, down, the soft patch sticking to your gooey cunt. he lets the soaked fabric dangle from your ankle, grazing the back of his knuckles on your core. 

“mmm, fuck,” geto breaks the kiss, swallowing. his pretty lips are flushed and shiny, parted around his panted breaths. “you always get this wet or am i special?”

he’s smirking, the bastard, leaning back in to kiss your neck.

god, you smell so good, like lotion and perfume and sunshine and sin. 

“shouldn’t you know?” you sneak your fingers up into his bun, pushing your chest against him. he works his lips expertly on your skin, using just the right amount of teeth, of pressure.

geto hums against your neck, kissing a line up to your jaw. he snakes a hand under your skirt, thumb pressing down hard to rub on your clit, two fingers slipping inside. 

you immediately clench, a soft, drawn out mewl leaving your lips. 

the slide of his fingers against your walls send a chill down your spine, filling you up so perfectly. you feel the thin skin at your opening stretch around him, burning at the friction as his fingers plunge in and out of you. 

“god, look at that,” he rests his forehead on your shoulder and pulls the hem of your skirt up. “do you hear that, baby? so fucking wet for me.”

you whine, hands cupping his jaw so you can kiss him again. 

“please…” you mumble against his lips. “more…”

you wonder how much of what you can say he's heard before, which exact words have left your lips and sent him over the edge. it makes you self conscious, oddly, like he can see right through you.

not-so-kindly ignoring your request, geto removes his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth.

you watch as his eyelids flutter in pleasure, a hum rumbling low in his throat. 

he looks so good like this, just edible.

you pull him in for a kiss before he can, relishing in the surprised little noise he lets out. your knees are wobbling, feet dangling from your seat as you taste yourself on his tongue. 

he swallows your moan hungrily, forearms trembling with the need to hold back.

geto knows this is wrong, so wrong on so many levels, puts both your positions in jeopardy, it makes him feel perverted and primal and so fucking alive. 

he’s been watching you fuck yourself on those silly toys for god knows how long now, knows every spot that makes your hips buck, knows exactly how to make you cream like a debased slut around a cock. 

it should feel unfair, how easy it’s going to be for him to make you cum, only if it weren’t for the fact that your mere presence is enough to get him hard as fucking diamonds. 

“tastes good, huh?” he whispers, thumb caressing your chin. you nod, smiling devilishly. 

“tastes better on your tongue, prof.” 

geto groans low like a starved animal, holding your throat in his hand with a loose grip. he’s overwhelmed, that much shows, not knowing what to do with you or where to start. but there’s one thing he’s sure of. 

he presses one last kiss to your spit-slick lips before dropping to his knees. 

you can hardly believe it. sulky, big bad bully professor geto suguru on his knees for you. you prop a foot up on his desk, your sole skidding on a piece of paper. 

“scoot closer, please,” he asks, cordial even like this. you bring your ass to the edge of the desk, your dripping pussy hovering over his face. 

he looks so good under you, hair already disheveled, a delicious tent in his tailored pants. 

you tuck the hem of your skirt into the waistline so you can watch as he sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning like he’s fucking relieved. 

you throw your head back, fingers buried in his silky hair as geto’s fingers find their way back inside. 

he fucks them in and out of you lazily, pushing out strings of slick. geto slurps it all up, spreading your wetness all over your clit and sucking it back in his mouth. 

god, his cock is straining in his pants but he doesn’t dare touch it, can’t until he’s inside you. you taste like fucking heaven, like all his fantasies, like he always knew you would. 

you’re whining softly, bucking your hips into his face almost shyly, as to disrupt his pace.

you sound so much better in person, although he can’t wait to have you moaning into his ear without needing the headphones. 

“god, this perfect pussy,” geto mumbles into you, his breathing labored. he runs a thumb all over your cunt, gliding it over your soaked lips. “been dreaming about it for so long.”

“yeah?” you ask. “tell me. tell me how you stroke your cock to me every night.”

and every night might be overselling it. geto is a busy man. 

but your words do make him realize that no girl he’s had since he found your stream has satisfied him quite like you do. your flirty smile, your moans, the way they sometimes turn into uncontained giggles as you stuff your pretty cunt with a dildo. 

so he tells you, blush spreading across his cheeks. 

“fuck, i do,” he tongues your clit, tracing lazy circles. “i do. just look what you do to me.“

and there it is, that cheeky, slutty giggle, directed at something he said this time. 

he takes his fingers out, spreading your opening with both thumbs as he licks you all over. 

geto gulps, tongue dipping inside of you, sucking your clit into his mouth, sliding down to your entrance, every clench of your pussy pushing out more and more slick for him. no one's ever eaten you out as thoroughly as this.

“oh, fuck, sir,” it slips out casually, the way it would were you talking to any other professor. but given the circumstances, you revel in the deep moan geto buries into your cunt. 

you trap your lips between your teeth to keep anything else from tumbling out, but it’s useless.

“please, sir, i’m so close—so close just keep doing that, yeah just like that—“

“fuck,” he mumbles, pulling away to suck in a desperate breath. then, “fuck,” sultrier, right into your core. 

you grind against his face, finding purchase in his hair as a final few flicks of his tongue push you right into the crest of a mind-numbing orgasm.

it’s so good, so much better than when you're alone. the friction so perfect, his long, thick fingers plugging you up last minute to viciously fuck into you. 

“god…,” you breathe out, legs trembling as he runs his hands up your thighs. 

his chin is glistening, bubbles of spit and cum gathering in the corner of his mouth. he looks so good like this, like he was meant to please you and nothing else. 

geto feels like a fucking teenager, so goddamn close to busting in his pants at the sight of you. his dick hurts, balls tight and the head throbbing where it’s tucked into his underwear. 

“please, sweetheart,” he can’t hold himself back any longer, slick fingers already undoing his belt. 

you get to work on his zipper, pulling his pants down along with his underwear and damn. 

you figured he was big. he was a tall man, broad shoulders, shoes the size of a yacht, and the bulge in his trousers was a pretty good indication. but it couldn’t have prepared you for the sheer size of him. 

longer than it is thick, cleanly shaven, pretty veins and ridges and standing angry red in attention. god, you want it inside you. 

he notices you looking. 

“do you need more prep? i can—“

“no, fuck no, suguru, need it inside me now,” you wrap a hand around him and he hisses, caging you in with his arms on the desk. 

he huffs out a laugh, blowing the fringe framing his face. “what happened to sir?”

you kiss down his jaw, squeezing right below his tip. 

“sorry, sir,” you say against his ear. “are you going to punish me for my slip up?”

geto groans, pulling on your hair hard and making you face him. 

“take your shirt off for me,” he instructs, and you obey, maneuvering around his tight grip on the back of your head. 

his spirit is so unbreakable.

here you are, teasing him, coaxing him to rough you up, push you around, relieve both your frustrations properly once and for all, but he’s just so… adoring, and hungry, and just so irrevocably into you, and you find out that’s so much better. 

geto relents his hold on you to unclasp your bra, cupping your breasts and sucking a nipple into his mouth. you whine, caressing his hair. 

“so fucking perfect,” he massages your tits, looking mesmerized. 

“yeah? they haven’t gotten old to you yet?”

he laughs, so cute, and you can barely remember that just hours ago you hated the sight of him. you stroke his cock up and down, squeezing harder at the tip trying to milk all that delicious pre he’s been wasting on the inside of his boxers. 

“no, f-fuck—never gonna get old,” he pushes your boobs against each other, imagining his cock sliding in between them, his balls nestled underneath, his load blown all over your pretty face—

fuck, he’s gonna cum if he keeps going like this. 

he rips your hand away from him, ignoring your knowing smirk and pushing his tongue into your mouth. 

“i’m gonna fuck you now, okay, sweetheart?” you moan, nodding, shimmying your hips so he can have the perfect angle. 

a big hand clasps your thigh to wrap your leg around his hips as his tip pokes around your entrance.

you’re whining in anticipation, clenching around nothing, nails clawing his clothed back. 

when he slips in, it feels like coming home. you’re like warm honey around him, cunt pushing him out but clinging to him at the same time, with every stroke. it’s fucking maddening. 

“ahh, g-god, sir, ‘s too big—“ you swallow around the lump in your throat, feeling the tip of his cock in your guts. 

he’s huffing, concentrated, bullying his cock into you inch by inch with shallow thrusts until he finally bottoms out. 

“fuuuuck, angel,” he grips your waist with both hands, like he could just fuck you up and down his length if he wanted to. “took me so well, look at that.”

you do, dropping your heavy head to look at where you’re connected. you clench around him and he whines, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in. 

the metal legs of the desk skid on the floor, papers and pens raining down to the floor as geto starts roughly plunging in and out of you. 

you let out little ah, ah, ahs in time with his strokes, the ache deep in your stomach finally starting to fade. 

“f-fuck, you’re gonna—topple us over, suguru, go easy—“

“can’t,” he chokes out, wheezing as he pushes his cock in as far as it can go. 

he gives shallow little thrusts, his length straining the fine skin at your entrance so good, hitting a spot inside you over and over that makes your head spin. 

your fingers twist into the back of his shirt, pulling him in to whine right into his ear.

he’s so big, stretching you out so thin that you feel every ridge and vein, can feel both your heartbeats inside your cunt. 

“ohhhhh fuck, fuck sir, please please touch me—“

he grabs your ass before you can even finish your sentence and presses you flush against his hips. 

geto’s tip is kissing your cervix now, his balls sticky and creamy against your ass, your clit grinding against his pubic bone as his thrusts violently shake the both of you. 

“fuck, wanna do it so fucking loud but i can’t, we can’t, what if someone walks in—“

you moan wantonly at his words, expecting to be chided, but geto seems to love it despite his worries because his cock kicks deliciously inside of you.

“look how loud you’re being, listen to yourself,” he grunts out, the belt pooled around his feet clanging with every stroke, the absolutely lewd squelches from your pussy resonating in the entire classroom. 

you two sound so good together, better than you’ve ever had, better than he could’ve ever imagined. 

“so loud, so wet on this cock,” he spits out, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. “do those toys make you feel this good? this full? answer me.” 

“hahh, n-no, no one but you,” you can’t think straight, head thrown back in pleasure and eyes squeezed shut. “only you, sir.”

geto whines like he’s aching, pounding into you mercilessly and making a mess under the two of you. 

“fuck yeah, that’s right. i’m making you feel good, baby?”

“mm-hm,” you mumble, tongue lolling out. geto's going so hard now, has you pressed up so tight against him, body caging you in, fucking every breath and thought right out of you. “close.”

“yeah?” he speeds up his effort slightly, and you’re sure he’s going to have desk-edge shaped bruises on his thighs tomorrow. “gonna cum on my cock? cream all over me?”

you let out a long, drawn out whine, tits bouncing up and down with the force of geto’s thrusts. 

“let me see your face when you cum, darling,” he cups the back of your neck, breathing hard through his nose. “keep your eyes on me. that’s right, sweetie, so good, you’re doing so good.”

you preen at the praise, feeling suddenly self conscious with the man's laser focus attention on you. 

you coo out little noises, growing in desperation, holding onto his biceps for dear life as his hips piston in and out of you. 

your pull him into you closer and rub your clit against him, grinding helplessly as your orgasm creeps closer and closer. 

the moment you open your eyes and meet his hungry ones, you’re cumming. your walls spasm around him, making the glide of his dick impossibly wetter with your release. 

geto chokes on a sound, his cock hostage of your pussy’s vice-like grip as your greedy cunt milks him for all he's got. 

“f-fuck, baby, look so pretty when you cum, always look so fucking sexy so fucking perfect that you’re gonna make me bust, i’m gonna cum for you god gonna cum inside, gonna blow my load all deep inside this pussy—“ 

it’s the most desperate he’s ever sounded, speaking through clenched teeth and a soaked mouth. you moan in return, letting him use you. 

he slams his forehead down your shoulder when he thrusts once, twice, three times and cums, his balls drawing up so tight that it hurts. he fucks it into you with shallow thrusts, panting, almost wheezing in pleasure. 

it feels like it lasts forever, his orgasm. like all of the blood in his body goes straight to his balls to push out the thickest, most satisfying nut of his life into the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

you feel it fill you up so good, hear it, too, squelching and sticking to both of you. 

geto’s body slumps against yours and you stay like that for a while, catching your breaths. there’s cum sliding out of you, down his balls, onto some poor student’s essay you have your ass on top of. 

when he pulls out of you, he takes a beat to watch it spill out of you some more, his face and chest red, his smile groggy. 

“god, this,” geto has to fight the urge to say thank you for letting him fuck your brains out. he swallows. 

“yeah,” you blink away the haze, feeling sore and fucked out. “this.”

“…is probably going to happen again, right?”

he knows it shouldn’t. he knows it will.

maybe both parts of geto can learn to coexist.  

you grin, touching the tip of your tongue to his lips. 

“well, i still haven’t made good on that promise of sitting on your face, have i?” 

the next morning, in class, the students erupt in happiness at the news that professor geto had an accident that ended up ruining most of last week’s graded papers he had in his possession. 

so he decided to give everyone an A for their troubles. 

and finally, finally, there was peace in the world.

[taylor-titmouse]

hey i want to talk about how you should be promoting your work as an erotic author/illustrator

i'm writing this up because the marketing aspect of my work as an erotic author/illustrator is a science to me, and also because i'm the guy who gets unreasonably annoyed when i see other creators not properly advertising their work. you presumably want to make money off your work. this post will be written under the assumption you want to make money off your work but are doing a bad job at it. it will be very confrontational. if you read this and feel attacked you're right and i am attacking you.

this is geared toward selling erotic comics/writing/books/art as products. i will probably write more than one post about this subject so if i didn't touch on something you want to know more about, comment/send me an ask and i'll keep it in mind for the next one.

i will start with my first and least specific but most important point:

DON'T GET FUCKING CUTE

hi are you paying attention. i'm gripping you by the sides of your face. do not get fucking cute with what you are trying to sell. you are not a big enough property to get cute, nobody LIKES it when big properties get cute, and you are selling porn. you have to own this. you have to be up front about this. don't be tongue in cheek, don't be all teehee i wonder what this could be~, don't be secretive. you are selling a product. you have to fucking act like it. you are an adult selling pornography to other adults. i am GRIPPING your HEAD you NEED to understand this.

and to be clear when i say 'cute' i mean coy. i don't mean cutesy, as in the aesthetic. you can be as hello kitty pastel ten emojis a post uwu as you like when you're building your audience and generating hype. but when you start trying to sell, don't be vague, don't be sarcastic, don't mislabel your work as a joke and assume everyone is on it. because they're not.

you must always assume 75% of the people seeing the thing you are advertising have no fucking idea who you are. and that includes a huge chunk of the people who already follow you. they do not know who you are or what you've been working on for two months or why they should care about it. they just got here. somebody just reposted it. they are seeing it for the first time. most people are only looking at social media for a tiny chunk of their day. they are not keeping up with you. you cannot get cute about what you are trying to sell because nobody knows what it is until you tell them.

okay are you still with me. we are going to talk about clarity now.

YOU GOTTA TELL ME WHAT IT IS

good lord the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's comic or book and had no idea what's actually in it or what it's about. who are the characters? why should i care about them? what do they do in it? what is the premise of this thing you want me to spend $5 on? why would you not tell me? i'm shaking you again. please i have to know what i'm buying i only have so much money to spend on porn.

porn, arguably more than any other genre, relies on knowing exactly what is in it. you do not want to surprise your readers with a kink they were unaware of! and on the flip side, you do not want to miss out on your target audience! if your book contains a hot spider babe laying eggs in an elf, you have to say so. not just so people who don't want to read about eggs know it isn't for them, but so the people who are egg crazy can see that and go "oh fuck YES i love EGGS here is my $5 and an extra $2 tip for catering to me specifically". a contents/features list is as much an advertisement as it is a warning!

as for re: who the characters are and why should i care, i'm sorry but you need to learn how to write sales copy. you have to write blurbs. you have to get good at the shit that goes on the back of a book. we all hate it but we have to do it. i want to know who the characters are and what the context is. i, personally, am not interested in contemporary stories as much as fantasy and historical. please tell me what genre this porn exists in so i know if it aesthetically appeals to me. pull some books off your shelves and see how they do it. hell man go look at mine.

while you're there, note that every single book of mine has a sample of what's in it. this feels like such a no-brainer to me but again! the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's work and they don't show me what their work looks like! you gotta give me the first page or two! just enough that i know if i like the way your writing sounds, or the way you draw your comics! i don't know you! i am not going to trust that you're good at what you do just based on a cover. the cover is to get me to this step, it is not the only step. you have to show me that you're worth spending my money on!

to put it less cynically, you want to catch my interest. you want me to go 'oh i want to see more of this', you want me to go 'ahh i want to know where this goes!' you need to get me invested and craving more. earn my $5!!!

YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT EASY TO GIVE YOU MONEY

hey go look at your bio right now. go look at your pinned post. do you have a link to your patreon there? do you have a link to your itchio/gumroad/whatever? do i have to click more than once to get to the places you want me to go to give you money? why? why are you making me click twice? have we learned nothing from every website making you click an extra time when they make some stupid UI update and how much it pisses us off? i have already given up, i have forgotten you, i am not giving you my $5 today. put your links in the easiest places to get to them.

god literally as i was writing this post i went to go find somebody's itchio to see how they described their work and it was not anywhere on their profile. grabbing you and shaking you PUT THE LINK WHERE I CAN FIND IT. don't make it hard! make it easy! i am a dickhead sitting on the toilet scrolling, saw your post, and was interested enough to read further. but you made me go to your bio to find your linktree and oops i have already gone back to my timeline to look at the boobies in the next post. stop wasting precious bio space on DNIs and put your fuckin links there!!!

this is more for the twitter people, but: just put the link in the damn post. just say the word commission. just say it's for patreon. "wuh wuh the algorithm" it is not the damn algorithm it's that everybody hates advertising and nobody wants to retweet ads. putting slashes in the words doesn't do anything and you look like a fool. i have posted so much art that says it's 'a commission for ___" and it did exactly as good as any other art despite having the word commission in it. and by doing the slashes you just made it impossible for anybody to search your account for your commission information (which should be at the VERY LEAST in a post under your pinned tweet if you're not actively posting about them being open).

okay that went on a tangent i'm going to back to the point of putting the link in the tweet. put it in the first post. not in the first reply. don't tell them to go to your bio. put it in the post people are actually going to share. it's fine to put more information in the thread but people are only ever going to share the first post. so put the link there. you have to make it easy. putting links in tweets can hurt you algorithmically, even in the replies. so you're better off having it in the post that actually gets seen and shared. i don't want to open the tweet and scroll to get to your sales page where i ASSUME you will have put all the information anyway. put it in the tweet that just got retweeted by itself onto my dash!

also you have to share it a ton of times. i repost my shit every few hours when i'm trying to push a new product. as i said before people are not 24/7 looking at their timelines. they missed it the first time. they missed it the second time. they didn't get paid yet that week but they were after the eighth time and you reminded them again so they finally bought it. that i will still get sales every time i repost a book ad weeks after release says there are always people who missed it, or who only just showed up.

abandon your pride and shill. shills pay their bills. anyone who gets annoyed about it isn't giving you money in the first place. don't worry about looking like a sell out. don't apologize for plugging your own work. post about it often, post about it in different ways. post about it. post about it. you are not going to make money if people don't know you have something to sell them. if you want to make a career out of it, you need to act like it.

I DON'T HAVE A FOURTH POINT

kisses your forehead. i'm sorry for yelling at you. i've been making and publishing and selling adult art for the past two-three years and have got myself to the point where it pays my rent, and i got there by paying attention to what does and does not work.

please do your best to make money. i want you to make money.

as i said above i plan to write more posts on this subject, such as cover design, how to actually write sales copy, and best practices with running a patreon, but if there's things you would want to hear more about leave a comment or send an ask! i will probably be less aggressive on future topics. these are just things that have grinded my gears for a grip.

[illdothehotvoice]

I think ignoring the uh. problems with Spirit of Justice, I've come to the conclusion that I think my biggest issue with it is it really just kind of went "Oh! You want more focus on Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney and it's characters? Sure, here you go! *retcons like. The entire game*"

Anyways I am about to complain a LOT about Spirit of Justice in the tags.

[mythvoiced]

# Miyoung and Yeo? :3c

@jeoseungsaja | cell phone headcanons

—

- what your muse’s name is in mine’s phone At first she'd probably be supers polite and just keep it as 'Wang Yeo' but after their friendship deepens and she starts considering him the platonic soul in her life that has helped her learn how to love life again, she might actually still keep 'Wang Yeo' BUT WAIT hear me out, this time with a cute lil emoji, like this 'Wang Yeo 🦊' because Miyoung is kind of awkward when it comes to her contacts and naming and such so she just goes... name + cute emoji~ Also, I imagine, for the longest time, Yeo is the only contact in her phone that isn't work related and she fully likes it that way~

- what your muse’s picture is in mine’s phone I COULDN'T DECIDE I FOUND SO MANY I LIKED, ahem I do think Miyoung might be more direct about asking for a picture for the express purpose of using it for his contact. So I chose this one and I like to think maybe they're casually spending time together and Miyoung randomly remembers she wanted to ask him for a photo and asks him now

- what your muse’s ringtone is in mine’s phone Now this may be fueled by my current brainrot, but listening to this soundtrack, I do think Miyoung would enjoy it greatly and I believe she'd choose pieces from it that she associates (vibes only) to people in her life, and while this track was coming to an end I just 'hey you know what-' SO I HOPE IT'S OKAY

- my muse’s last text to your muse

[ txt | Wang Yeo 🦊 | 11:12AM ] I found a set of small ceramic foxes!

[ txt | Wang Yeo 🦊 | 11:15AM ] Oh, sorry, good morning by the way!

[ txt | Wang Yeo 🦊 | 11:15AM ] I'm out with Jaemin right now, but would you be interested in one of them? I can bring them over later!

[ txt | Wang Yeo 🦊 | 11:16AM ] Because I bought them, of course 😎