the font shop

Cherry Blossom Boy|1|

Originally posted by jeonify

Genre: Fluff, romance, future angst and smut, tattoo artist reader, soft Jeongguk

Word count:2.3k

Pairing: Jeongguk x Female Reader

A/N: Thank you for the wait and all the cute comments💕I’ve been excited for this fic💕feedback is appreciated💖Shika💞

Jeongguk has to be going crazy, Jeongguk has to be insane. He can’t believe he’s doing this just to prove to his parents he’s not perfect. But Jeongguk is perfect, he’s got the best grades and has a promising future ahead of him. That’s all a guy needs, but no he just can’t let his pride down, can he?

Jeongguk scolds himself, breath hitching as his doe eyes gaze at the intimidating font on the shop front. ‘Chiller’ he notes and then mentally hits himself for knowing every single font from Microsoft word. He attempts to pull open the door and is confused when he gets a fed up look from a young man at the counter. In realisation he bites his lip and awkwardly pushes the door, almost falling in and tripping.

“What can I do for you?” Jeongguk’s eyes shoot up to look at the guy, he’s pretty, but his hairs too long for his face and one of his earrings is longer than Jeongguk’s fingers. But when the man gives him an unexpected smile, Jeongguk’s poor bi heart melts and his face seems to be in awe.

“Uh, um, I-I want a tattoo!” He claims, weakly stamping his foot. The man chuckles and Jeongguk flushes, embarrassed at his childish actions.

“I’ll get Y/N out in a second for you,” the man stands and Jeongguk catches a glimpse of his name tag, ‘Taehyung, wow pretty’ he thinks, fingers playing with the hem of his sweater. “You can have a look at some designs, love.” Jeongguk almost faints at the mans casual use of such a beautiful and lovely term of endearment.

“Oh, oh, um, thank you.” He stutters out, eyes staring as the tanned man walks away to another room.

Fuck’ is the first thing that comes to Jeongguk’s head as he watches two plump ass cheeks, unfortunately, covered by black skinny jeans. Jeongguk shakes his head and gets back to examining designs. But they’re all scary and ugly and something a six foot guy in a screamo band would get.

“Are you up next?” A feminine voice calls out from behind and Jeongguk wants to die because were all people that worked in tattoo shops this attractive?

“Uh, yes?” He looks around and notices he’s the only one there.

“You don’t have to sound so unsure, kid.” Ugh, kid, that word makes him feel, well like a kid, if it was anyone else he’d complain, but Jeongguk is infatuated with her eyes and lips and nose and everything.

She gestures for him to follow and rolls her eyes when he only stares in awe. “Follow me kid.” She sighs in an exasperated tone. Jeongguk stands and stumbles after her, trying to keep up with her fast strides. She stops and opens a door, the same one Taehyung had disappeared into. “Sit here kid.” She points at an intimidating black chair standing next to an even more intimidating table which has design sheets and tattoo guns spread over it.

“What you want kid?”

To kiss you’ Jeongguk is thrown out of his daze when she slightly shoves his shoulder.

“Uh, um, something big.”

“Big?” She raises her eyebrow and massages her temple in annoyance.

“Y/N, don’t get so annoyed. It’s his first time, he’s probably nervous.” That’s when Jeongguk notices Taehyung sitting behind a desk sketching in a book.

“You’re right, you’re right.” She nods and grabs his arm, Jeongguk flinches. “Do you at least know where you want it?”

“Uh, um, m-my arm?” She rolls his sleeve up and feels up his arm.

“And how big you want this thing?”

“As big as possible and I want something scandalous!” Jeongguk suddenly says.

“Scandalous? Good word kid.” She pats his head and giggles, the sound is so sweet. It sounds like fairies are singing and Jeongguk feels as if all the weight has been lifted of his shoulders.

“I want a lady.” Jeongguk blushes slightly as utters his next sentence, “I want a naked lady, with big, um, those things.”

“Those things?” The girl muses, looking confused as to why he was so red. “Oh, you mean tits. Right kid?” She snorts as he covers his face.

“Y-yeah, those things, sure whatever you wanna call them.”

“Come on, be a big boy and say it with me, T-I-T-S,” She sounds out shamelessly, cackling at the horrified expression on his face.

“Y/N,” Taehyung warns, “be nice.”

“I’m sorry, this kids too cute to be here.” She chuckles and Jeongguk brightens up.

“That’s exactly what I want. Right here, on my arm, really big.” She nods, still looking a bit unsure. She starts slipping on some gloves, humming a soft tune mindlessly.

“So what made you wanna get tits on your arm kid?” Jeongguk flushes again, rolling his sleeve to his shoulder.

“Just stuff, parents, people, you know.”

“I get it, you’re golden boy. Everyone treats you like a saint and your parents keep pushing you to aim higher, you want to show everyone your not so perfect, so you come here.” Jeongguk listens in shock as she basically repeats his life story.

“How’d you know?” He watches intently as she cleanses the needle on the gun.

“Look at you kid, you’re cute. You’re wearing circle glasses for fucks sake.”

“Please just get this over and done with.” He whimpers out and she nods walking over to him. The needle is pressed to his skin and Jeongguk’s mind is sent into panic mode, the word ’fuck’ is making an appearance.

“You don’t have to do this.” For once her tone is gentle and her eyes look kind, but Jeongguk shakes his head.

“I want too.” The words slip past his lips and before he knows it the sharp pain is everywhere.

“What the fuck! Why does it hurt so much?”

“There’s a fucking needle like a few centimetres deep in your skin.” Taehyung points out the obvious and Jeongguk lets out a girly scream. “I like his screams, you should give him a whole sleeve Y/N.” Taehyung teases, giving a cheeky grin to Jeongguk who is now suffering with a stroke from that smile and from excruciating pain.

“It’ll be done soon kid.” She says softly, free hand stroking his thigh, he tenses up, confused at her gentleness.

“Hang in there!” Taehyung grins, now standing up from his desk to look over the flesh of his arm. “Wow, those are big tits.” Taehyung raises his eyebrows and nods in approval and then Jeongguk starts regretting his decision.

“Can I get this thing removed?” He asks, choking out breaths and whimpers.

“Painfully, yes.” Taehyung smirks and gives him a thumbs up, “Y/N-Ah knows what she’s doing love, I’m sure you’ll love it when you see it.” Jeongguk doesn’t really think anyone but guys who were misogynistic, and like those sexist Instagram posts with women being called toys and dolls, could like the tattoo he is getting.

~

“It’s done.” She calls, hands pulling away the needle and standing up to stretch her arm. Jeongguk winces, fingers going to strike the raw flesh on his bicep. “Don’t touch it.” His fingers freeze and he pouts, watching as she grabs a wipe and starts dabbing at the sensitive skin.

“Fuck.” He whispers under his breath, eyes screwed shut and fingers clutching the arms of his seat. She finally starts to wrap a piece of bandage around his arm. “W-wait! Can’t I see it?”

“Just wait until you get home. I recommend two hours and then you can take it off.”

“How much is it?”

“It’s on the house kid,” she smiles down at him, “I’m doing you a favour, now go.” She ushers him out and Jeongguk smiles dopily at her retreating figure as he shuffles out the door.

Jeongguk can’t wait, he’s been trying to stop his prying hands and greedy fingers but curiosity is getting the best of him. “Fuck it.” He doesn’t hesitate to rip it off, chucking the wrap on the floor somewhere and taking in a breath to look in the bathroom mirror. “Wow.” He whispers in awe, fingers brushing against petals which seem to come to life and blow in the wind. Jeongguk falls deeper in love when he realises the girl isn’t as harsh as she comes off as, he sighs in absolute relief as he stares at the branches wrapping around his arm and the flowers blooming on his shoulder. Now he wishes he’d got her number, he’d like to thank her for not tattooing a cringy naked lady onto his arm, but instead an oriental and delicate cherry blossom tree. Jeongguk feels his inner weeaboo coming out and he feels sentimental as he remembers his trip to Tokyo with his ex-girlfriend. “Wow,” he finally says as he runs his fingers over his shoulder and down his bicep, “wow.”

~

Jeongguk wakes the next morning and his bicep is still throbbing and sore, he probably should’ve kept the wrap on. He is tempted to just lie in bed for another hour but he remembers the essay he needs to give in and all the classes he has lined up, he’s regretting staying up and watching reruns of the first season of Sailor Moon. The sunlight is bright and he feels warm inside as he lays his eyes upon the ethereal blossoms that are sprawled across his arm. “Yah, Jeongguk! You’re gonna be late to class!” Seokjin bursts through the door and Jeongguk rushes to cover his half naked body with the sheets.

“I know, I know hyung. Just give me a second.” He flushes red as Seokjin gives him unconvinced look.

“There’s no time to fucking masturbate you little shit. I can see your boner, get the hell up.” Jeongguk groans as he stands, ushering his hyung out the room in embarrassment. His hands feel the urge to slip into his boxers, but when he glances at the clock, Jeongguk is already in the bathroom shoving his toothbrush down his throat while trying to pull on his jeans and pee at the same time.

“Hyung! Hyung,“ he calls out, words muffled by the foam gathering in his mouth, “Can you make me toast?” He hears Seokjins distant 'yes’ and relaxes, chucking some water at his face and running out the toilet. Seokjin is buttering a slightly underdone piece of toast, but Jeongguk has no time to complain, snatching the bread and rushing to slip his shoes on. “Bye hyung!” He yells, toast stuffed in his mouth.

“Jeongguk, you still have five minu-“ the door slams and Jeongguk is already gone.

~

“Guk, you’re not late, why are you sweating so much?” Jihyo checks him up and down, fingers tightening her perky ponytail.

“I ran all the way here.” Jeongguk’s breaths are laboured and his palms are clammy. “I swear, Jin hyung is switching the clocks around to try and make me leave the house earlier.” Jihyo shrugs, now checking her reflection on her phone camera. Jeongguk spots her boyfriend creeping up behind her and he wants to roll his eyes as he covers her eyes and says a cutesy ‘guess who?’

“Jimin?!” Jihyo squeals and her boyfriend spins her and kisses her like boyfriends do. But Jeongguk feels like crying, his little feelings crushed and forced down deeper into his heart, he tried to ignore them, fingers clutching the straps of his rucksack tighter. He clears his throat and the two jump apart, Jimin sending him a wink and cheeky grin. Jeongguk feels his insides twisting and his heart is fluttering as he shyly smiles back.

“I’m gonna head to class.” He mutters, biting the inside of his cheek to hide the huge smile which could’ve slipped out. He turns and BANG! All his things clatter to the floor and his round glasses fly off his face.

“Ow, watch where your going kid.” He recognises the tone and his hopeless romantic mind instantly turns on a switch for possibilities of love, after all that how all romance books started, right?

“Y/N-“ he remembers her name and goes to apologise, cut off by some grumbling from her side.

“Noona.” She corrects, Jeongguk stops, surprised when he spies her looking down at her lap bashfully.

“Noona,” He copies, “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there and since when did you come here? I’ve never seen you around before, have just joined? Because if so I’d be ha-“

“Kid, it’s my second year.” She looks amused as she stands up, automatically brushing her knees down. She offers him a hand, “I think I’m capable.” He takes her hand, she pulls him up a little too harshly and Jeongguk tumbles right into her, head smacking against hers. “Fuck kid, you need to be more careful.” She groans, rubbing her head.

“Sorry noona.” He says, looking so miserable that she has to give him a consoling shoulder rub.

“It’s okay kid, stop apologising so much.”

“Sorry, I mean sorry, shit I’m sorry, oh god, sorry.” Jeongguk stops his mouth from moving, annoyed at himself. She giggles and once again Jeongguk can feel his mind floating to heaven, the sound is so feminine and different compared to her usual manner. “I-I just want to say thank you, noona. F-for the tattoo, you really did me a favour and I owe you, noona. It’s beautiful and thanks for not listening to my stupid fucking words. Seriously, could you imagine if you actually gave me that tattoo? I’d grow old and, and wrinkled and there would always be this picture of boo-“

“Hey, kid, I get it. But you don’t owe me anything, I just don’t like giving cute guys ugly tattoos.” She winks and Jeongguk can practically see her hair blowing in the wind in slow motion with the song ‘Oh my love’ playing in the background.

Jeongguk is in love and he’s utterly screwed.

The Customer ; Woojin

Characters: Woojin / Reader / ft. Donghyun and kind of Jihoon
Genre: Coworker!AU, fluff, jealousy, slight angst
Word Count: 4.4k+
A/N: not really an A/N but i’d just like to say,,, woojin is killing me ty for listening– i kinda ventured off of your request a bit i !! hope you don’t mind - Admin Jade 🐼

Masterlists

   “Jealousy is just a lack of self-confidence.”
   - Unknown

   You groaned, shutting your laptop closed as you leaned back. Rubbing your eyes in exhaustion, you slumped forward and lay your head in your arms. Beside you, your friend, Jihoon, chuckled. You didn’t even bother retaliating, too tired to function properly. Not even the serene environment of the bubble shop that usually brought you peace was of any help. You had been looking for a job for a little over a month with no such luck. Everywhere you went, jobs required higher education or past experience– things you didn’t exactly have.

   Jihoon, amused by your minor vexation, pat your head in mock solace. “Are you giving up?” he asked, taking a sip from his strawberry-flavoured drink.

   Lifting your head, you narrowed your eyes at Jihoon. “You’re not helping, you know that?”

   With a grin, “I know.”

Keep reading

Cherry Blossom Boy Preview

Originally posted by nochujungkookie

A/N: New fic?? I’m sorry it’s guk again it’s just it was random💕

Jeongguk has to be going crazy, Jeongguk has to be insane. He can’t believe he’s doing this just to prove to his parents he’s not perfect. But Jeongguk is perfect, he’s got the best grades and has a promising future ahead of him. That’s all a guy needs, but no he just can’t let his pride down, can he?

Jeongguk scolds himself, breath hitching as his doe eyes gaze at the intimidating font on the shop front. ‘Chiller’ he notes and then mentally hits himself for knowing every single font from Microsoft word. He attempts to pull open the door and is confused when he gets a fed up look from a young man at the counter. In realisation he bites his lip and awkwardly pushes the door, almost falling in and tripping.

“What can I do for you?” Jeongguk’s eyes shoot up to look at the guy, he’s pretty, but his hairs too long for his face and one of his earring is longer than Jeongguk’s fingers. But when the man gives him a unexpected smile, Jeongguk’s poor bi heart melts and his face seems to be in awe.

“Uh, um, I-I want a tattoo!” He claims, weakly stamping his foot. The man chuckles and Jeongguk flushes, embarrassed at his childish actions.

“I’ll get Y/N out in a second for you,” the man stands and Jeongguk catches a glimpse of his name tag, ‘Taehyung, wow pretty’ he thinks, fingers playing with the hem of his sweater. “You can have a look at some designs, love.” Jeongguk almost faints at the mans casual use of such a beautiful and lovely term of endearment.

“Oh, oh, um, thank you.” He stutters out, eyes staring as the tanned man walks away to another room.

Fuck’ is the first thing that comes to Jeongguk’s head as he watches two plump ass cheeks, unfortunately, covered by black skinny jeans. Jeongguk shakes his head and gets back to examining designs. But they’re all scary and ugly and something a six foot guy in a screamo band would get.

“Are you up next?” A feminine voice calls out from behind and Jeongguk wants to die because were all people that worked in tattoo shops this attractive?

anonymous asked:

Nini~ what fonts are you using for typesetting? :)

This is our groups font guideline

plus some of my favorite fonts. But I use wayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy more than those. I go “font shopping” from time to time, check free font pages (like dafont) and download everything that could be useful ^^

~Nini

The Pirate and his Thief

FrUk Drabble (pirate AU)

Word Count: 2791

Renowned Captain Kirkland stepped into the slave trade.

At his entrance, the man at the counter lent out his attention. A giddy, shit-eating smile carved itself into his face when he saw who had entered his shop.

“Ah Cap’n Kirkland. I was told you were interested in coming here, but I wasn’t sure if the word was true. I’m glad it was. Welcome.” He spread his arms in welcome. The two men, highly regarded in their own fields, knew of each other but didn’t know each other personally. The merchant stepped out from behind his place at the counter, held out his hand and offered his name. Kirkland could have cared less what it was. Nevertheless he shook the man’s filthy hand.

“Let me see your finest merchandise,” he demanded, nodding his chin at the man.

“Sure ting.” His voice was gruff and sounded as if he’d been eating trash for the past thirty years. His grey, singed beard looked just as unsightly, swaying slightly as he walked over, changed the sign on the outside of the door from ‘open’ to ‘closed’ and then closed it. The wooden latch came down hard and a lock clicked into place. He waddled into the back of his store and Captain Kirkland got a chance to look around the establishment.

Dressed up as a normal store, the place was rather cramped, selling only two displays of a rather meek amount of ammunition, which was what the sign on the outside of the store advertised the store as. A poor excuse of a shop if he were to live on this type of income alone. But anyone who was anyone except for the kings men knew that this place was among one of the better slave trades around.

Chains rattled as three young boys were herded out of the back room.

Boys. And only boys.

Bound in a line by their wrists and ankles, they were sat on the floor against the wall. A gag was peeled out of each of their mouths. “”Ere we are. Finest ‘o da bunch.” Then he stood back with his arms crossed, looking proud of his stock.

Arthur narrowed his eyes, taking each of them in one at a time. The first was blond, with a tiny frame and terrified eyes. It wouldn’t take much for Arthur to make him do whatever he wanted. Judging by the way he kept his eyes locked to the floorboards Arthur doubted it would take even the beginnings of a beating to get a point across to the lad. He’d do anything Arthur wanted in a heartbeat.

The next had short, cropped brown hair with equally brown eyes. He had a little more meat on him. It was easy to tell that he was a boy left on the streets, parents probably slaughtered long ago. He probably had fast hands from experience, though was most likely easily distracted and less than likely to co-operate without a few littered bruises and spare lashes.

The last was also blond, with tanner skin that either of the boys. Scars along his face, he’d probably been traded through slave post to slave post. There was a resistance about him that Arthur didn’t much like. Not like the other boy though. This one, strangely, looked as if he had a sense of pride. His straight back and blue eyes suggested a child taken straight from the lower ranks of nobility: a knight’s son, but nobility nonetheless.

It was clear none of these boys had been here for very long as none of them looked too particularly battered, dirty or too poorly fed. And of the three the final seemed to be the obvious choice in terms of a slave. Arthur deemed that all he needed was a bit of conditioning.

Disinterest in his voice like a full pint of beer, he said, “You told me this was your finest. You lied.”

“No lie ‘ere sir. This is my best. And might I say there some ‘o the best out there. Paid a good chuck for each of ‘em.”

A good slave was not one with youth still shining in his eyes and clearly this man did not understand this.

“I’m not looking for a boy,” he said simply.

“Sorry. But I don’t keep girls, nor do I sell ‘em to grubby hands let alone a sea scoundrel like yerself.”

Keeping his slaves clean and refusing girls and women? This man was noble to say the least. Strange, as the profession he had taken up warranted anything but.

His good will and decency was denying him money. With a couple of girls this man could be making tenfold what he already does.  

“It’s not a boy that I’m looking for,” he repeated.

“Sir, if you want a woman for your troubles. You’re going to have to look elsewhere. I don’t got none ‘ere,” the man insisted.

Arthur was beginning to lose his patience with this man’s incompetence. “I’m looking for a man,” he spat. “Show me everything in your back room.”

“Very well then.” The boys were left out in the shop while Arthur was taken into a room behind a firmly closed door. There were eight men, alongside two other boys, all chained to the wall.

Piercing green eyes scanned over them all and eliminated half of them; the weak and useless. He stood in front of four men all looking right back at him.

The first had black hair and empty eyes. A gangly man that could do no more than cleaning. The second had long blond hair and a playful smirk. The third was the strongest of the group with a glare that could shatter glass. Finally, the one on the end with the black hair and nimble fingers looked the smartest of them all.

The Captain bent down so he was only a few inches from the third slave’s face and prodded the man’s calf. The muscle was like a cow’s tough meat. Firm. Reliable.

“I think this one tickles my fancy the most. How much d’you supposes he weighs?”

Next to him, the blond’s eyebrow twitched and his lopsided smirk melted into a firm glare.

“‘Bout one-fifty Cap’n. Got meat on ‘is bones, useful for heavy liftin’.” By comparison to the others, yes, this man was the most physically fit, but that body weight paled in comparison to that of a free man, one who wasn’t fed the better part of scraps in the back room of a tiny shop.

Still, Arthur hummed in agreement, lifting the man’s chin. “Not too bad on the eyes either. Don’t want a bunch of ugly blokes on my ship to scare away the women.”

The slave looked at him in disgust and pulled his lip up in a snarl. Had his hands been free he would have strangled Arthur to death. But he wasn’t free, and that was the point.  

“Are you done playing games now, Captain?” The second one suddenly said beside him, his eyes narrowed.

“Silence, you,” the shopkeeper snapped. Then to Captain Kirkland he said, “Very good sir. Eighty gold coins and he’s yours.”

Captain Kirkland sighed and stood. “Much too steep for me I‘m afraid.” But everyone in the room knew he had more than enough gold to buy everyone in the shop including its keeper.

He gestured to the final one. “How about this lad with the smooth looking skin?”

“Fifty-six gold coins,” answered the elderly man.

Arthur tipped his gaze at the last slave. “Where did this chap come from?”

“A contact of mine says he came in from the east. That’s all I can tell you.”

“Can you tell me how he’s behaved in your care?”

“That’s enough, Captain,” barked the blond again, eyes sharp under his curtaining hair.  

The man let down a lash across the slave’s thighs. He cried out. “No more outta you!” He shouted. Then to the Captain he asked, “Why ever would’ya wanna know that?”

Kirkland chuckled, a hearty sound that came from deep within his stomach. “To see of what nature he is. His demeanour right now is reserved, however it could be a ruse and I might end up buying a seedy git instead of a hardy slave.”

“He’s been nothin’ but quiet in my care, Cap’n Kirkland,” the shopkeeper reassured him. “Hasn’t spoken a word since I chained him here.”

“Is that perhaps because he is a mute?”

The merchant hefted the whip again and let down with a thunderous lash at the fourth man’s stomach. He cried out, clearly not mute.

“Right then.” He stood. “I’ll have him.”

The keeper bent down, reaching for his key ring to unlock the last slave from the others, but Arthur raised his hand. “No. Not that one. This one.” He pointed at the blond.

“Wha?” The keeper shouted, aghast. The others slaves eyed him pointedly as well. The fourth one seemed to be relieved.

“But Cap’n this one’s been nothin’ but whiny since ‘e got ‘ere. Besides, can’t ya hear ‘is accent. The bloke’s a frog through and through. Why would ya’ ever want a salve like ‘im?”

“Why indeed?” He said, looking directly at the slave and shaking his head. He seemed to be asking himself the question.

After a moment of staring up at the renowned sea dog, the merchant placed a hand on his knee and hefted himself up. “Very well then,” he said, and moved towards the blond, unlocking him from the chain of four.

The man stood, taller than Kirkland, hair long, fair and resting on his shoulders. The three moved to the font of the shop, the slave’s movement restricted to small steps due to the minimal leeway that the iron chains on his ankles provided.

The old merchant had hustled the three boys into the back room again. They stared at Arthur and his new slave as they were ushered into the back. They looked rather relived as well.

When the shopkeeper returned he told Arthur that the man was worth sixty gold coins. The slave scoffed, insulted at how little he cost compared to the first man, and the Captain handed over the money. It was traded for the key to the man’s restraints: his freedom.

“Was nice doing business with you Cap’n.” He held out a broad, grimy hand.

Arthur gave him his own. “Same to you. I’ll be sure to give word about you and your humble post, chap.” He wouldn’t, but the man lapped up the lie earnestly.

“Really? Thanks a bunch Cap’n. Be seein’ ya.”

And with that, Captain Arthur Kirkland left, his new slave in tow.

The slave trader flipped the sign on his door back to open and went on with the rest of his day.

Arthur dragged his new piece of property into the heart of the trading capital. They made their way into an alley way and suddenly he slapped the man upside the back of his head, the force of it making the blond haired man lose his balance slightly. “Ow!”  

“Bugger-headed twat!” He shouted. “I’m tried of having to buy your freedom all the time. What is a master thief if he constantly gets caught?”

The man laughed. “Only the best,” he said as Arthur unlocked the chains, letting the one on his ankles fall lose. He stepped out of them like ill fitting clothes.

Arthur scoffed. “That cost me sixty gold shillings, Francis!”

“Not enough. My silky smooth skin alone is worth at least one hundred,” he said, indignant.

“You owe me all of it – with interest,” the pirate warned.

“Oh no, I hardly owe you any interest.”

“Oh? And why’s that then?” Arthur bit.

“Because you left me there for three days!” He shouted, outraged.

“Yes and I did that purposefully. That’s what you get for wasting my time, frog.”

“What if somebody bought me before you got the chance?”

“Pipe down. I had one of the deck-hands check on the shop each morn.”

“And if I’d been bought after he checked?”

“Then I’d be rid of a nuisance like you, simple as that.”

He chuckled mockingly. “Don’t make me laugh. You’d be useless without me.”

In seconds Francis was pinned against the wall, looking up at the tip of the pirate’s sword. “Come again?” He asked.

Suddenly, the Captain felt the cold touch of a knife at his throat. Francis had a tiny blade of his own, used for discrete handshake-jabs and path-crossing stabs to the stomach where somehow – somehow – a wallet would fall to the floor in the process and never be seen again.

Blades at each other’s throats, neither flinched nor flicked their wrist to draw the other man’s blood. Instead, they simply stared at each other: baited and baiting. Not even they knew which one was which.

His patience utterly depleted, Arthur growled, and lowered his weapon. Francis followed suit. “Look, did you get it or not?”

“But of course. Who do you think I am?” And he led Arthur to the place he had hidden the loot.

This is the beginning of a tale of the pirate and his thief. In each other’s back pockets. At each other’s disposal, in each other’s faces, at each other’s throats. Always grappling, trying to get the upper hand on the other.

But behind closed doors they counted on only each other.

Francis offers a hand and Arthur knows that no one else in this world will accept scum like him. He’s glad that Francis - though scum himself - is the only one. He is held close and he holds closer. Smudged souls. All they have is each other.

They disrobe and find a comfortable position curled around each other in the sheets. They like it this way, locked in Arthur’s private quarters on his ship, warm breath and traveling hands the only thing they know.

They could each have whomever they wanted. Francis had seductive eyes and a snake’s tongue. There was a certain romantic smoothness about him. All it would take was a look and a few words; possibly even a wink and he could have anyone. And as for Arthur, his renowned name and the symbol of riches and power behind it could call anyone to his side. Though his prickly personality wouldn’t be able to keep many people close for long, the promise of money could bribe the weak hearted. He would have no trouble renting any lover he wanted. And if not rent, he’d take by force, he was Captain for a reason. His sword spoke for itself.

Despite this, there had never been any interest in someone else.  

It started with wild passion behind a seamless partnership. Matching shit eating grins as Arthur pulled the thief into the private room on his ship, in secret.    Once the door was closed he was slammed against it, both mouths fighting for domination. That was how both of them thought it would stay and neither of them minded it that way. But when one night Arthur called out for Francis craving something other than his body, Francis had come offering comfort.

The Captain, as he had learned, was two faced. On one side a steadfast brick wall, lined with the brutality of barbed wire, but as good as glass when the doors closed and the lights went out. That night was careful strokes and solemn words by candlelight. Arthur fell asleep in his arms for the first time, instead of on the other side of the bed.

However, Arthur’s beckoning wasn’t a one-time thing. Being renowned didn’t mean he was renowned for being good. He was a pirate. Scum. He was on a rift; respected but feared. Francis understood that this was something more deep-rooted than wanting pleasure or release.

When Arthur had held unbreakable Francis they knew they were in too deep. Francis was a pillar; social, and though he tended to other people, no one tended to him. No one thought to. The beautiful man was perfect in daylight. But he cried alone if ever at all, seethed with anger behind locked doors and only allowed himself to be exhausted in private.

Though, it was that one night where he padded out of his own room on Arthur’s ship and went undoubtedly, without hesitation, to Arthur. His shoulders quaked with sobs he let fall onto Arthur’s shoulder. This was new territory for both of them. The Captain drew up such soft words he didn’t even know he could utter, whispered them tenderly into the other man’s ear. While the thief, malleable in Arthur’s hands, simply let the world fall away from him.  

All they truly had was each other in what twisted love that they could muster.

The way FR art shops work is so vastly different from Gaia art shops I can never get used to how bad the system is.

fr shops operate on first come first served basis. which means if you’re not on FR all the time it’s hard as shit to get a slot. not only that, people just reserve slots with no refs whatsoever so the first 3 people or so gets to reserve slots while anyone who isn’t on fr 24/7 has 0 chance of catching open slot.

This is a pain in the ass for me both as a customer AND an artist. People are so used to this shit system they don’t even read the rules I put up and follow my system, which is “post ref, post offer, I will choose at the end of the 24hour period.” They just come in and “can I grab a slot?” ABSOLUTELY NOT. I don’t allow slot reservations because:
a. it’s unfair for everyone else who isn’t on FR 24/7
b. I don’t even know what you want me to draw. I don’t want to guarantee anything until what you offer is worth what you’re getting me to draw.

I honestly wish FR art shops would adopt the pick and choose method instead of the first come first serve because:
a. artists get to choose the offer that is best to them.
b. artists don’t have to feel obligated to fulfill reserved slots if the reference is shit or if the offer is bad. when people reserve slots, they just reserve with no info. you don’t know what they want from you until its too late to change your mind.
c. customers have a wider time range to get orders in and everyone has an fair chance of getting picked.
d. artists KNOW beforehand what they gotta draw, which means better time allocation.
e. again, artists shouldn’t have to draw shit they don’t wanna draw. When people reserve slot, there is an implicit agreement that artists should dish out whatever is given to them even if refs are shit. That shouldn’t be the case.

I have no idea why people don’t adopt the selection method more often. Every shop I see, the first 2 people always gets slot and 900 people coming after always end up missing slot even if they’re 2 second late. And it’s always the same people getting slot, too, because they the same ppl ALWAYS on fr.

No diss to artists using the first come first serve method but it’s shit and I don’t know why you use it. It doesn’t benefit anyone except the person who is always online that catches slot all the time. As an artist, it’s not beneficial for you, and neither is it for 99% of the customers.

Anyone who has ever had a shop on Gaia will tell you that art shops there never use first come first served because of how easy it is to abuse the system. So a word of advice to new artists and old alike, don’t use that system. It’s easy as shit for people to take advantage of you and you lose out on better offers when you just grab the first person that comes into your thread.

Seriously tho. I get FR is a new site but y'all gotta catch up with the times. you don’t have to go through this experimental phase because bigger and older forums like Gaia has already gone through and agreed that first come first serve is a shit system for shops, so the sooner you drop that system, the better it is for you as an artist and for us as customers.

Street shots - Harajuku

A few shots from people using Harajuku’s aesthetic references on streets


For being so “exotic” overseas, references from Harajuku’s Fashion are really subtle… Colors, textures, colorful prints are some of what we see as “rereadings”. As a fashion student, I started reseaching what people on my city were using, that maybe was inspired by a Harajuku aesthetic.

   Young People in Brazil, mostly from geek or kpop comunity, likes wearing some Harajuku inspired accessories, that sometimes are from kids or especific online shops.                                                                     Font by: @hanny_elle


   Some beauty brands are coming these days with some fluffy accessories. “Arezzo” for example, made a whole collection of purses and shoes with these acessories. It’s commun too seeing people using big earings like this one. Harajuku realness, isn’t it?


  I was starting to get crazy with this Street shoots because I couldn’t find anything else, but then one of my students, from “Fashion Drawing” subject at college, came with that pants. Oriental prints have always been used from internacional brands like “Farm”, “Forever 21”, “Zara” and so many others. Don’t you think that this “Sakura’s” Print would be used on Harajuku’s Street?


   Who doesn’t love a cute stuff? I found this corset that my friend made by herself with a lot of this cute vintage food print. I totally see a lot of others Harajuku’s Clothes with these prints <3                               Font by: @cheeer.ry


     ❛     all these shirts are a little bland.   try that one—     ❜     he’s pointing at a neon pink t-shirt, with princess scrawled across it in horrid font.   shopping is not the time zeus should be cracking jokes at strangers minding their own business, and yet here he is.

@odairing