#I also have no idea why we keep going with the messy drawing style for Taylor but it looks good

[thethingything]

idk anything about hatoful boyfriend but maybe one of those guys in 1A for the outfit meme if you want? orrr a lv character of your choosing in 3B :-)

okay so we tried to do both but for some reason we just couldn't get the first one to look right so we're just posting the lv one ashgjhdhk

Taylor was the first character that came to mind and I have no idea whether he'd actually wear an outfit like this but it looks cute.

anyway this was fun to draw and I'm gonna include an alternate version under a "read more" because we accidentally turned a colour layer off at one point and it looked cool

[winterwhisperz-blog]

Hi, I really like your blog. I recently just found it, and I was wondering if you could do a part 2 of TouchStarved Characters reacting to MC, drawing themselves. Especially with Vere. Skip if you want to, anyway. Have a nice day. And make sure to eat, sleep, and drink some water.

HI HI !!! I am, so sorry for taking forever, I’ve still been in a huge writing slump )): BUT

I HAVE finally triumphed !! Thank you so much for the ask <333 I’m rlly happy u like my blog !! And I hope you have a nice day too !

Now les get into it !!

Leander, Mhin, And Vere Reacting to Mc Drawing them (a Sequel)

Warnings: Vere is flirty, a person gets snatched away in Vere’s too, (it’s played in comedic effect but just in case) maybe OOC

Notes: GN Mc, Fluff

Vere

ALR ALR ALR so, as we know, Vere draws. So having you two be like, drawing pals/couple ??? Muah muah

But I think it’d be really really funny, if he didn’t find out until you guys walk by a wanted poster—you both know who the subject is, but OMG THEY DO N O T look like that 🤨 also the lines??? So messy— effort ??? None

Determined to correct them, you stomp away, on the lookout to find the Wanted.

You find them waltzing out of a brothel, which is where you and Vere jump em.

Letting out a screech, (either that screech being from you or the Wanted that’s up to you. Could be a battle cry idk) you stuff them in a bag before quickly running off.

Vere of course, has no idea why you WANTED this random person, but he definitely wasn’t going to object to doing a crime with you <33

Plopping the Wanted into your room, you dramatically whisk off the bag, revealing a very frightened, and now hostile fellow.

“MC?? I thought we were FRIENDS, why the hell are you turning me in?”

You shush them, settling down in front, butter-fly legs as you slam open your sketchbook.

“I’m not turning you in, I’m redrawing your wanted poster.”

….

…..

“….What?”

“Vere, keep ‘em still!”

“Yes, darling~”

Your partner in crime does just that, and with your combined efforts, you successfully redraw the wanted poster. Now, it being far more accurate.

Which uhhh, did result in the fellow being captured, BUT— that’s not the point.

The point is, Vere now knows you can draw. And very well he might add!! Despite if your style is realistic or not, the wanted poster was STELLAR

And now as you’re back in your room, duty done, Vere droops himself seductively across the floor, any remaining sunlight catching the pink of his eyes and red of his hair.

“…what are you doing?”

“It’s my turn now,”

You raise a brow, “You want me to draw you a wanted poster?”

He rolls his eyes, running a hand through his long hair. “No, dummy. You can’t keep a secret like this from me and not use me as your new muse.”

“I wasn’t keeping it a secret—“

“Go on, i can’t stay in this position all day.”

Sighing, you kneel down, getting to work. “What am I going to do with you?”

Vere hums, and you know a flirt is coming before he says it. “Oh, MC, I have a list of things you can do with me~”

“Hopefully starting with throwing you in horny jail.”

“Rude.”

You snicker, returning to delicately sketching the details of Vere into the paper.

You draw the playful lift of his lips, the needle like pupils, and the deeper, maybe even rare soft side that he hides beneath flirts and cool remarks.

Once you’re done, Vere leans over your shoulder, humming his approval. A part of him, is both touched and uncomfortable how you managed to capture a side of him he didn’t commonly show.

After this, the two of you would often take turns drawing each other.

Leander

ALR ALR SO, WE ALL KNOW Eridia is like, dreary and cloudy all the time—and to set the scene—it’s storming—walls of rain slash against the roof of the Wet Wick (dang-it rlly be wet now. UHHH pls don’t hate me for that joke 😚)

The bloodhounds had been out doing jobs, leaving you with far less people to greet when walking downstairs.

Leander sits by the counter, large figure shadowed by the darkness cast by the storm. His eyes glowing eerily green in the shade, especially since he looks so deep in thought. His brows lightly furrow, his lips hinting at a frown.

You feel awfully like you’ve spotted something you weren’t supposed to. Especially since…there’s actually no one else around. You hear the faint snores of any other none-bloodhounds occupants still in their rooms, but otherwise it’s hushed against the drum of thunder.

Afraid of breaking some kind of spell, you stay where you are—though, you do tilt your head, taking in every angle of the scene in front of you.

…dang this would make a pretty cool sketch

Like a hesitant deer, you take quiet steps back up the stairs before returning, just as quietly with your sketchbook and pencils.

Though uhhh, Leander is no longer where you left him.

Curious, you take the rest of the steps down before searching the dark. Your only company being the crashing and howling of the outside storm—

“Good morning, MC!”

Out of pure terror, you scream and swing the sketchbook at the voice.

You’re greeted with low laughter and glittering green eyes as Leander reaches for the book, gently taking it from your hands.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you alright, MC? Did the storm wake you?”

You shake your head, a little thrown by the shift in tone—from laughter to genuine concern. You take your sketchbook back, but not until he’s caught interest.

“You draw?”

“How did you know it was a sketchbook?”

“I caught a glimpse when you whacked me.”

He laughs again, the deep sound nearly matching the thunder above. You feel oddly light when hearing it, though it sends a chill down your back.

For a distraction, you glance outside, the flash of lightning sparking worry into your chest.

“Will the bloodhounds be okay out there?”

Leander frowns, looking a bit confused, perhaps a little irritated before his smile quickly returns to his face. “Oh, they’ll be fine. You can’t live in Eridia without expecting storms.”

And before you can say more, he gestures to the sketchbook.

“What were you thinking of drawing?”

Ah, right. You shift on your feet, feeling a little awkward. You’ve asked to draw people before, and uhhh, with a few different reactions. Some thought it was weird, others annoyingly prodded at you to draw them before you even asked, (then changed your mind) and others kept whatever drawings you did like treasure.

You can’t guess how Leander will react to the question, but you end up asking anyway.

He receives the request with a bit of fluster, a flirt or two, before asking how you want him to pose. You decide you want to capture the moment you saw before—him standing in the dark like some kind of gothic statue, hoping you can somehow sketch in the magic and eerie wonder he had emitted.

Once you were finished, he definitely showed the picture to everyone he could—boasting at how talented you were…and how you chose him for a muse.

Mhin

ALR ALR, to balance out how kinda creepy Leander’s was 🧍🏻‍♀️ like man was just standing there in the dark like a WEIRDO—I wanted to do something cuter with Mhin’s.

So so so, this is for Mhin’s birthday. You know they like sweets, but wonder if they would appreciate a portrait instead

You’ve sketched them before, when they’ve taken care of the stray cats, when they’ve sat beside you in silence, just enjoying your company—but you wanted to make this special

So, after finding them after a little merry soulless hunt, you two get started on your little birthday plan. Mhin, to actually convince them to join you, Is completely unaware of said plan.

You just give excuse after excuse, like how starving you are and how you’re only craving their favorite type of cookies, how you want to explore the city and conveniently wind up where the stars are most visible, and you have NO idea how this romantically set table even came from?? 😮

Eventually, they do understand what’s going on, and look away, arms folded.

“I told you we didn’t have to celebrate.”

“We didn’t have to, but I wanted to~”

They roll their eyes, but like always, you can spot that flush of pink coating their cheeks.

After dinner, you pat a spot next to you, and when Mhin sits down, you stare up at the stars above. Millions blinking down at the pair of you between thin, grey clouds.

Mhin gets absorbed in the sight soon enough, occasionally pointing out constellations and then rambling about them.

Giving you just enough time to get out your sketchbook and get to work. While ofc still listening, because you always do. Hearing Mhin nerd out about stars is one of your favorite things.

The night is cold, biting at your nose, but it doesn’t bother you. Especially when you feel a warm cloak wrapped around your shoulders.

You look up from your book to see Mhin settling back down, ponytail and white shirt now exposed to the night air. They raise a knee and shrug. “Don’t look at me like that, you looked cold.”

Smiling, you pull them closer, reaching out the cloak so it covers you both. “Thank you, you big softy.”

You hear them grumble, but also don’t ignore how they lean into your side. After awhile, they glance at what you’re sketching, face growing confused as they start to recognize the person in the drawing.

“What is—“

You let them take the book, their eyes wandering over every detail so carefully thought out and drawn in with every pencil stroke.

Them in the portrait sit, gaze watching the sky with a wonder you’ve had the honor to see. Their mouth is open, talking about things that are more beautiful thanks to how they explained them. A little beauty mark seated by their lips.

After a few moments of silence, you lean your head on their shoulder(or head if ur tall), finding comfort in the warmth of the shared cloak.

“Happy birthday, Mhin.”

They didn’t say much, but you can see the appreciation in their eyes. How they look at your drawing with the same amazement as they looked at the sky.

Forever wondering why you’d use this talent to draw them.

Maybe celebrating their birthday wasn’t so bad after all. (Especially if they get to spend it with you <3333)

ALR ALR WE HAVE REACHED THE END

Tysm for the ask!! Again, I’m so sorry for the wait.

Anyway, I hope you have an amazing day, stay cool and hydrated, see three heart shaped things in nature, and watch/read your favorite show/movie/book !!

[bigjimbopickens]

Hi! I wanna say I love your art first of all! I just read the message under your last post about Kevin’s art video and you said you’re mostly self taught - I’m curious about how you get into that? I’d love to learn to draw but have no idea where to start!

Sorry for getting back to this so late I am not as active on Tumblr. And yes, I am mostly self-taught because of my circumstances growing up. To those who don't know, I am SnowfallWarning/Big Jimbo and I am currently an animation student. I do 2D animation, concept art and character design and I graduate this year (hopefully). I am disabled both physically and mentally which is why I mostly do digital art. I have a coordination disorder (dyspraxia) and am blind in one eye but that doesn't stop me. For my entire childhood I was discouraged from drawing as I apparently wouldn't go anywhere with it or that I was terrible. Where I lived most of my life had no opportunities for someone like me so I had to leave to continue pursuing art. Because of the poor access, the only things I had was notebooks, school supplies and an old iPad mini to draw with growing up. I learned everything I currently know now from using those. I don't know what got me into drawing still, may have been Warrior Cats and dinosaurs. Like what Jose said in Kevin's video, art comes from the soul. It is human expression and we've always been doing it. Anyone can be an artist and we all start somewhere, trust me. Here's some stuff I usually tell people because I do get asked this often (I'm also not the best teacher): 1: Experiment. Find what works for you. Be messy with it, not every piece needs to be perfect. If you are a digital artist then also trying different programs can be helpful too. Maybe you're better at drawing landscapes, characters or abominations that defy God. 2: Use references if necessary. Not sure why for a while it was considered "cheating" to use references. Everyone in the industry uses references, I would know. If you also want, you can try tutorials but I found I learn more from references. 3: Take inspiration. I'm always adding things I see in other people's art to my own style if I like it. Though try not to copy them. 4: Tracing. I believe tracing is okay for learning purposes. It's how I learned to draw humans after doing exclusively furry art for years tbh. I tend to stick to real-life references for this, this is a great site for practice: https://line-of-action.com (if you're not okay with nudity then do remember to turn that off). "But where do I even start?" Grab a piece of paper and pencil (or open a blank canvas on a digital art program if you prefer that) and just start doodling whatever. If you have an idea then go for that as well. Every class I've had in college so far has started with drawing and rendering a bunch of shapes to see where everyone was at and to get a feel of our styles. So maybe try that too. Draw random shapes with different materials/brushes, colour them in and add details like shadows and highlights. I know it seems ridiculous but I do it every once in a while to experiment and try different methods. You probably won't improve overnight. Hell, it took me 7 years to get to where I currently am. A lot of people quit because they think they're not good enough when pretty much every artist is only proud of about 10% of their work. Definitely the case for me. Not every piece is going to be a masterpiece and the imperfections can be what makes it special, so please don't be so hard on yourself. Don't be discouraged because other artists may be better than you either, they've probably been doing it for longer. So please, if you are dedicated enough, keep trying. I'm sure you will get somewhere :) So basically, - Use whatever material you got and draw what comes to mind, even if it's terrible it is a great start. - Experiment with your style and/or materials. - Reference, take inspiration and trace for memory. - Don't give up but do take breaks to avoid burnout. - Try not to be intimidated by other artists, we also don't really know what we're doing tbh (and just as afraid of you as you are of us).

I hope that all made sense and was somewhat helpful :)

[kotoritorin]

super random idea: 141 dead poets society

super messy post, i was sending these as messages to my good friend and he speaks Martin, so sorry if its illegible

what made me think of it was the "oh captain my captain" line, i randomly remembered of it, probably because of prices title, or maybe soaps title in the 2009 game.

them meeting up in the conference room at night and locking the door to talk about the fine things they see in the world and poetry

id like to say i thought price would be a good society captain but im so unsure. he can be very clinical and calm and collected in the way he sees the world but at the same time we know from the time laswell was kidnapped and also from the 2019 game that he can both be spurred by emotion to do something and also does have deep thoughts that hes willing to share once he deems it needed

at first i thought gaz would be the one to start it tho, like be the society captain. i just feel like he would

soap would be an enthusiastic follower i think. hes already into drawing, and does journal. i think hed like talking about things he likes and trying to work on ways he can make words sound prettier, it can be like drawing when he cant draw for him. he writes poetry in his head when he needs/wants to draw but cant

i think that after seeing so many horrible things, a humans brain will need some form of outlet. thats why i love so much that soap draws, he was a football jock and joined the military at 16 but hes also passionate about drawing and journaling and he keeps doing it in military too

human brains needing an outlet thing: soap draws, price smokes, gaz and ghost arent very detailed characters in the sense we know what they like, but i like thinking ghost comes up with little melodies in his head that he never shares with anyone but does hum into a voice recorder, for no reason other than to keep it. he knows he wont make a song out of it, he knows he doesnt want to show it to anyone, yet he records it in a human way to keep things

and i geniunely think gaz reads. i have no proof other than his speaking style but hear me out. he sounds and speaks like someone who read a lot and also liked socialising enough (i know gaz personally guys trust me he likes reading) (also zero proof for ghosts hobby/thing but its just a silly idea for him) (also i think maybe ghost might like dancing too, he can be a silly little guy from what we see from the campaign ads and stuff hes my blorbingo im going to squish him)

gaz sitting on the floor in the dark conference room with only a desklamp on, reading a book out loud for the rest of the team for them to discuss later; soap drawing mindlessly, price finally relaxing and fully enjoying a cigar, ghost leaning against a desk leg and watching how words form on gazs lips as he reads, fully immersed in the story

[lediz-watches]

Suspicious Minds

I uh… I may have lost my patience slightly in this episode. I’m sorry in advance.

But SERIOUSLY EVEN CARLOS MADE ME MAD. ARGH.

I’m liveblogging The Winchesters as a Supernatural!virgin. Please keep my lack of knowledge in mind if you continue...

In episode thoughts:

Oh dear! Gracious! Oh, my, I do so hope an honourable gentleman has come to – why, that’s not a gentleman! Goodness!

Such luck! I shall murder this woman with such style and grace! How wonderful!

Sorry, I’m done now.

Oh, Mary looking for life outside hunting! I actually am shocked this time.

But I’m reminded by how weird American college is. The idea of going to uni without knowing what you’re studying is so foreign to me. We apply for specific courses, and the entrance requirements change depending what you’re planning to study. In a non-American school, Mary would need to have a plan before even thinking about applying. It’s so odd to me.

Aww, Carlos is super twitterpated still.

And an idiot.

You know, some people think Mary Poppins actually is an eldritch creature, for the record. Just a good-aligned one.

…This actor looks familiar. Pause. It’s going to bother me until I find out.

MISTER SHEFFIELD! I KNEW IT! Mwuahahaha yessss! Okay, carrying on.

He feels like a future Lata. Except he’s distressing. Monsters may be monsters but I’m not on board with lobotomising people into service, believe it or not.

I take back my Lata comment. He’s like an evil Lata. Creepy good.

Oh, Roxy. Welcome back.

They’re acting like she looks like a mess, but she’s still gorgeous. Show, come on. She needs to clean some messy eyeliner and brush her hair. Some people spend hours on that look.

Lata… don’t you pull an Ada, on me.

Oh, this creepy dude is creepy but I’m kind of enjoying it, I’m not gonna lie.

You know, I know who Dean is, because of course, but if I didn’t, I would not have any reason to give a damn about the akrida wanting to kill him. I would, however, be confused about why they want to kill him. He has not yet actually had anything to do with the akrida, as far as I know, he’s just been AROUND. This is yet another instance of this show needing Supernatural to make sense.

Creepy good isn’t lying to you, kids, he’s just not telling you his life story. Why do you care why he’s got a vendetta against your enemies? Honestly, the way this group worries about morals sometimes is so all over the place. PICK A LANE. And don’t just tell me you’re hypocrites, that does not excuse you.

Oooh, Lata, I do hope you’re having fun in between shop talk dreams~!

Oh no. Creepy good did lie to you. He’s the assistant. How terrible?

Oh, no. In addition to LOBOTOMISING SENTIENT CREATURES he also did human experimentation. How shocking. Again, I have to wonder at the morals and ethics of this show. I think this is a me-problem, but I do not like the whole we-draw-the-line-at-physically-hurting-humans thing. If you’re willing to accept a guy torturing and enslaving sentient creatures, you should be willing to hear the context of the human experimentation. I’m not saying I’m okay with it, I’m just saying these characters should be. Be mad about it, sure, demand explanations, sure, but don’t go in guns blazing.

…phony accent, oh god, no, don’t do that, please. This actor is so very British, and that Southern Twang is a notoriously difficult accent to pull off.

…I like Roxy’s decision here. I like the allegory. Remember, and recover, and grow beyond your pain.

Oh, of course creepy good is creepy bad. But I stand by my statement about ethics. Of course he’s proven bad, but up until he did all this targeting the main characters bit, these characters feel like the type who would go along with bad morals For the Greater Good.

Who the heck is big guy and where did he come from?

Golems. Kay. The show has not explained how they work in this context. Golems, as far as I know, are creatures baked from clay and given a degree of sentience. And yet Mary is acting like they’re unforgivable magic.

Oh, look, John’s trying to be charming again. I wonder if the goo will go in his mouth.

…well, it didn’t, but uh… that’s a real human looking creature you just mercilessly killed in gruesome fashion.

And a legitimate human you just killed in less gruesome fashion.

ETHICS!

Mary. Mary, note what you are saying. Apply it to the actions John has taken so far. Please, Mary. Mary, please. Don’t say ‘us’, say ‘you’. Say ‘you’, Mary.

Okay, Carlos, I forgive you so many things, but comparing Roxy’s situation with yours is not particularly forgivable and you need to just not. Just no.

That was some TIMING, Millie. And cops. I was going to say what Akrida!Kyle is doing is almost a compelling twist on hearsay cases, but it’s been dramatised a bit much. You were so close to making me invested in a John storyline, show! So close!

Okay. So a few things here, and I think the main one I should address is my own prejudice. Because it’s another one of those things that stops me from watching a lot of fantasy and sci-fi if I’m honest.

I don’t like the idea that just because something is not human (strictly or otherwise) it should be considered fair game. There are multiple reasons I don’t like it, but I think in the end it comes down to this assumption that it-is-different-from-me-and-therefore-less. What this show calls monsters are all clearly sentient creatures with lives and thoughts and emotions. Even the akrida, which have basically been portrayed as worker drone ants, have jokes and preferences that were highlighted IN THIS EPISODE. They’re… remarkably human for CGI monster bugs.

But the show just Accepts As Fact that monsters are bad, humans are good. Even as it shows that humans are not good. They will slaughter monsters wholesale without blinking, and the Men of Letters quite rightfully seem to think of hunters as vicious killers willing to do terrible things in the name of what Dean calls righteousness, but physical harm to a human is Bad.

I mean, look how quickly they almost turned on Ada for the crime of (gasp) having a consensual relationship with a djinn. She had to rush to defend herself. Why? Maybe Supernatural gave a big long reason about why djinn are bad, but in all the stories I’ve ever read, they’re usually just as petty and loving and fickle as humans, with some extra power and less emotional control. Big deal.

And yes, Creepy Good was bad. I don’t mind him being bad. What I mind is the way Mary and John framed him as untrustworthy not because he did terrible things but because he… let himself in to the building that is much more his right to play in than theirs? They do realise they’re squatting in the Men of Letters’ house, right? Ada is literally the only one that’s supposed to be there. He had a KEY.

And the golem. I don’t have the context to understand the response Mary had to the golem. So as much as that dude came out of nowhere, so did the whole concept of him! Golems are not… the myth of golems is not consistent enough to just throw a golem into the story and have it be acceptable. Frikkin homunculi are more consistent and more recognisably Bad than a golem and yes I know in some stories they’re the same thing but golems are usually made of clay and homunculi are human parts and that would have fit Mary’s reaction a little better when mostly I’m just like golems are moving objects, so okay, cool use of magic?

-FURIOUS FLAILING CONTINUES FROM LAST EPISODE-

And Carlos and Lata, usually I love you guys, and Roxy’s story was so good but my god, the A-plot absolutely DESTROYED my willingness to put up with THAT UTTER NONSENSE where you would DARE compare being SCARED of INTIMACY with A FUCKING RAPE ALLEGORY.

THAT, MY FRIENDS, MADE ME VERY ANGRY.

…

Deep breaths.

…Okay, gonna take a break from this show for a minute now, before we move onto chapter eleven. …more breaths.

(or back to chapter one if you dare.)

[vibrantfoxart]

I posted 34 times in 2022

18 posts created (53%)

16 posts reblogged (47%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@vibrantfoxart

@hellcatshellhounds

@mushtoons

@lilacoraa

@ik-sue

I tagged 26 of my posts in 2022

Only 24% of my posts had no tags

#vi's art - 17 posts

#digital art - 15 posts

#medibang paint - 14 posts

#my art - 14 posts

#original character - 7 posts

#h+h - 4 posts

#quiche - 4 posts

#blacktober 2022 - 3 posts

#blacktober - 3 posts

#character design - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 123 characters

#i also realize i'm gonna have to figure out clothing style for when i'm in the mood for that but i'm thinking pastel punk??

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Sonic OCs!

(extra info below the cut)

So I don't think I've ever posted about em here but after everyone on twitter got to sharing about the silly things they did at 13 after some poor taste Turning Red reviews my mind traced back to these guys. Some of my earliest Sonic ocs and what spurred me on to making more original characters of my own and writing stories for them

I remember, and in some corners of the internet still have, old self insert fics of my ocs and the main characters running around going on adventures and then the whole alternate universe/future setting thing that I'd whipped up based on the different cannons and games and shows and comics. It was a chaotic and messy time but I had so much fun.

The folks pictured here again are some of the oldest especially the first three. Jazz the Hedgewolf, on the far left, was the first. A character who'd have speeds that didn't quite match but were just enough to keep up with Sonic and the gang and pyrokinetic powers akin to Blaze the Cat (whom i suppose the young folks today would call a kin of mine when i was younger) I'd even shipped them with Shadow at one point before moving on from the idea.

Lola the Rabbit and Streak the Hedgehog, the next two in order, were the characters who'd fill out their version of a heroes-esue trio (though I could never settle on types). Lola was the tinkerer of the group making vehicles and gadgets for the team and Streak a sort of telekinetic similar to Silver but with some limitations.

The next two, Angel the Hedgehog and Doom the Wolf, were Jazz' parent and as I'd developed their story big drivers for their character development and motivations. While the last one Sage the Hedgehog was Streak's father and the teams mentor and access to intel, also helping to move the story along.

In all genuine honesty I think I'd had a cast of about 20 or 30+ characters for their story and a relatively fleshed out world though I don't know if I'll ever come around to drawing everyone. It was fun to make tho back then and I'm glad it's something I did since it helped shape my creative path I guess from back then to now

Idk how to close this but I guess I'll just echo the sentiment I saw shared to "not kill the part of you that's cringe but the part of you that cringes" it's pretty metal advice

9 notes - Posted March 26, 2022

#4

rise n shine

10 notes - Posted April 23, 2022

#3

Blacktober day 3 - vibrant

figured it's in the name so why not make it about me xD

12 notes - Posted October 11, 2022

#2

taski maiden

115 notes - Posted May 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

"Nice weather! What conspiracies are we cooking on the menu today?"

241 notes - Posted March 25, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[neptune-midheaven]

The Third House Placements and Their Handwriting Styles ~💖🌺🐚

Welcome back babes 😁🙏✨ I’m back posting someee bit but anything nonetheless ! This was a post I wanted to do for a while, this really intrigued me💫

I’m going to be talking about third house placements and their unique to the placement writing styles. Third house rules hands, arms, fingers and writing, correct !😄🎶 There is a correlation between handwriting and third house in astrology as it literlaly rules over it, so components in your third house astrology will dictate how this will look. Use all of the possible combinations you have in your chart ! 🙂☝️

For generational planet ruled signs, use whatever works better.

🔆Sun/leo ~

May have a gift in being very dramatic and showy whenever they express their ideas or in their communication they can be very bright and charming. They’re very talented at absorbing knowledge and facts, they usually are the types of people to dish out random facts about anything whoever you’re talking to them, they have so much random knowledge kept in their minds it’s almost funny. They’re silly and a bit childlike people,

Handwriting style 🦁

Regal, nice looking. They have a confidence to their writing, if the whole class wrote on one piece of paper, theirs would stand out more, maybe a “I can trust what they write is the best there is here” is what people reading over theirs would think.

🌙Moon/cancer ~

Loves sentimental things, talking about the past and family makes them feel good and safe, attachments to the mother, most likely missed her or their family whenever they had to go to school, homesickness at school

Handwriting style 🌝

Soft, homely words. Shyer? They write with a grace and their words are poetically beautiful. It looks like something out of a movie. Nostalgic, their ink is softer and lighter, their curves are soft, their lines and o’s are soft and so sensitive. SO gentle and calm. It’s sleepy?

💫Mercury/gemini/virgo ~

The wittiest, most social people ever. They’re all definitely extroverts, I am one with my gemini in 3rd house ova here 😘, they love talking, and never stop talking and love chatting about anything and never stop chatting about anything, they love walking up to random people and never stop walking up to random people and staring a convo with them out of nowhere 😀. My friends bully me all the time for this. I understand. The one kid in school with like all the answers, they just knew the answer to things and easily got good grades. People asked them for answers all of the time since they are so smart and intelligent, they absorb what they’re being taught so quickly they don’t ever let the teacher finish talking. They’re fast and versatile.

Handwriting style 🤸‍♀️

Fast writing, so many words. They write super fast and probably have so many typos in their essays and papers. Handwriting can look like crap 🤨😐. Like there’s no rush, you’re gonna get your paper done on time! You can’t read what they write al of the time because they rush through writing everything. Their letters and words look fancy somehow, like they were written by the scholar of all scholars, they’re just unintelligible words and sentences. Teachers may need to ask what the student with this placement writes because they can’t read it. Scribbles, jumbled and mixing up things all over the page. You can tell they write fast with the jagged lines and crooked n’s and t’s ajakksks.

💕Venus/taurus/libra ~

Very sweet and charming way of talking to others, they have strong persuasive powers with their honeyed words, they can almost charm you into doing anything, they seem so innocent and sweet. These people are very kind though of course! They love giving others compliments, strangers, their friends, their family, they’re such sweet people to have in your life. They attract partners and relationships by doing their daily tasks, lovers can show up suddenly when they’re running errands or they can attract a lot of interest at their school.

Handwriting style 🍓

The most pleasant, aesthetic handwriting i have ever seen, even if their handwriting is bad it still becomes an art style somehow, i don’t really know how else to describe that. It’s like no matter how bad it could possibly look or how incoherent it is, their script still manages to look NICE.

💥Mars/aries ~

Very loud voices, a bit like sun, but it’s more like their power and strength is used whenever they talk. They could be meaner or aggressive classmates, angry talkers, I know so many people with this placement who talk so mad, so much cursing, ranting and screaming. We love it all.

Handwriting style 🥵

Very rough and fast handwriting, similar to mercury; however, it has more fervor, the messiest and most impulsive handwriting out of all of the other placements.

🐚Jupiter/sagittarius ~

Loud and expressive communicators, similar to the sun here, but they’re louder and bigger. You can hear their voices from across the room and they’re usually the know-it-all’s in the classroom. Very friendly and fun to talk to, they talk about so many exotic and interesting things. They love to crack a joke or two. Also, it’s something about these peoples voices are just FUNNY. Like how they talk is like hilarious and jolly in a good way. It make you wanna crack up and feel good. They make you feel good and BLESSED when they talk to you.

Handwriting style 🍀

Larger letters, I’ve noticed they have bigger “holes” and like to expand their letters over the pages, their words go over the lines and it could be messy usually, sort of like mars fashion but it’s just wider words on the paper.

🪐Saturn/capricorn ~

Very punctual people with perfect punctuation. They hate it whenever their thoughts are messy or unorganized, it makes it hard for them to think thoroughly like they are expected to. They’re the smarter most mature minds in the room. Very deep, daddy voices. IDK HOW TO DESCRIBE IT. THEY SOUND LIKE THEIR DADS. ITS CRAZY. They talk with so authority and sureness, their diction is so perfect it makes everyone mad.

Handwriting style ✏️

Perfect handwriting, they hate it when their sentences look off or unstructured on a page. The most rounded o’s, the straightest lines and perfect length for every letter they write. Correct punctuation once again, their words look like they were printed by a typewriter.

🌪Uranus/aquarius ~

Very different minds, they could feel strange or odd in school, like they were just the oddball learners, had weird interests, or was a huge nerd over so many subjects. Crazy coffee drinkers, the ones with monster drinks and twenty textbooks that are about to fall out of their open backpacks because they rushed to get to school on time. The craziest people actually, their minds are like on drugs, they can be hard to keep up with.

Handwriting style ⚡️

Weird ways they write certain styles of their letters and their words can “come out” of the page. They write SO fast this is usually why they take harder classes in school with more work just solely on the fact they can write much faster than anyone else. Maybe comic-book looking writing? They’re dynamic and crazy like harsh lines and crazy o’s, there’s something unique about the way they write.

🌊Neptune/pisces ~

Such idealistic thinkers. They want to see the good in their surroundings, they do need to be careful with this because surroundings and things can be deceiving. They can absorb such much of their surroundings, they can be quieter communicators because of this. It can be taken advantage of since they’re overwhelmed by conversations or they can be easily fooled by the wrong people. Like they believe things that aren’t even true? Or they like tell a lot of white lies when they’re talking that make people go like uhh is that even true?😀😀 But they play it off when they’re caught lying, it’s very deceptive. The quietest kids in school that either did drugs or tried to escape class by doing some illegal stuff, or they just left. Some were never seen at school.

Handwriting style 🌀

The sleepiest handwriting I’ve ever seen. It’s provably hard to read what they write. Faded words maybe? Faded words on faded paper. So poetic though, it’s pretty but not in a venus way, it like captivates you. It’s hypnotizing they way they draw out their e’s and their a’s have a dreamy tail that connects to their next letter.

🥀Pluto/scorpio ~

Obsessive minds, they want to know everything possible, they want to reach the deepest depths on information and knowledge. They are motived and driven to know as much as they can, and they always seem to succeed. They’re very smart. The kids in school who would keep to themselves or would obsess over what the teacher taught them, the way they communicate is like they’ve read the same page over and over again for days. Obsessive.

Handwriting style 🖤

Darker, hard to see words, they can have obsessive writing. It’s perfect but fast writing, maybe a bit scary that they have the ability to write so much with so much power? People can be freaked out with just how much they know already. So their words can be very persuasive, so the letters would be magnetic, you love their writing once you read one of their essays. You’re obsessed, just like they are.

[raine-kai]

Contextualizing the Messy AkiHaru Scene

So...it came to my attention that a lot of translations of the scene where Akihiko crashes at Haruki's house in chapter 20 of the manga or the anime movie suggest that nothing happened more than we see in the panels/on the screen.

This is a translation error. The Japanese is unambiguous that a lot happened during the scene break; the art backs this up, in the change to Haruki's hairstyle from before to after the scene break.

Mainly, I want to retranslate for people who are interested, who didn't know that this was a mistranslation. But, I think that no matter how the scene is translated, there are subtexts and undercurrents that are lost, that cannot be simply translated into existence.

So I would like to explain several things in the lead-up to the scene in question, as well as in the aftermath, in order to hopefully give more context.

WARNINGS FOR SPOILERS AND NONCON

Notes on Translation: Given astonished me from its very first chapter with its deliberate and brilliant use of words. It is a story that is so incredibly articulate when it wants to be that moments of wordlessness or fragmented words are equally articulate, for they are crafted with as much deliberation and care as the articulate moments. As anyone knows who has ever tried to translate something, just plain translating the surface meaning of words often leaves a lot of the meaning behind. I will do my best to convey in English what the original text conveyed to me in Japanese, but it will inevitably fall short of the original text.

The Lead-In

First off, let's talk about Akihiko and the particular damage that he brings with him into this scene. He, of course, has the argument with Ugetsu and the fact that he has nowhere to go; but he has also been living this way for two years, presumably only a little longer than he has known Haruki. Akihiko describes the patterns that he and Ugetsu go through:

[Translation: "Even since Ugetsu and I broke up, we periodically continue to clash. Sometimes it's about the timing at which Ugetsu found a new guy. Sometimes it's just before or after Ugetsu is away for a long time. Sometimes these clashes come suddenly, immediately after we have been intimate for a few days, just like we used to be.]

Later, Akihiko reveals that he has a pattern of dealing with being kicked out of the home he shares with Ugetsu by finding someone, anyone to stay with. He has come to associate these stays as transactions, where the thing that he provides is most often sex. (We also see this transaction-based approach in his relationship with Ugetsu, for whom he feels compelled to cook—a thing that he later continues for Haruki with an urgency that does not match Haruki's easygoing acceptance of this dynamic.)

In fact, we see hints that perhaps Akihiko associates crashing with someone with providing sex to a deeper degree than even he acknowledges, in a scene in volume 1 where he crashed at Haruki's apartment while drunk, and upon stating it would be too much trouble to pull out a futon, did not merely crawl into bed with Haruki, but on top of him.

[Translation: Haru: Akihiko, get a futon and sleep wherever... Aki: Whaaat? But that's so much effort... Haru: So sleep on the....floor....]

So this is a deeply engrained association for Akihiko.

However, it is also a part of his life that he has gone out of his way to conceal from Haruki. From Haruki, he has not merely concealed the many times that he has essentially prostituted himself for a place to sleep; he has also hidden from Haruki that he has any flatmate at all, much less the nature of his relationship with said flatmate.

Haruki has the idea that Akihiko used to sleep around, but does not anymore. He is blinded partly by his own desire to see only the best parts of Akihiko; he is also blinded by Akihiko's desire to only reveal the best parts of himself to Haruki.

In volume 4, we see the moment that Akihiko lets slip that he has a flatmate, and the degree to which this shakes Haruki.

But the more emotional moment for Haruki comes when he realizes that Akihiko is talking to him on the phone while having sex with a woman.

[Translation: "That was a woman.... He was totally having sex."]

No promises have been broken; no trust has been betrayed. But there is an illusion of Akihiko that Haruki has, that Akihiko himself has carefully cultivated over the recent months for a reason that even he cannot explain. It is a paper-thin illusion, that only held up because Akihiko and Haruki both wanted it there.

But now, that illusion is shattering.

This just so happens to overlap with Take suggesting that Haruki take on a support role in his ex-gf's band.

Haruki has struggled from volume 1 with insecurities. He is the band leader; he is the one who brought them together, the one who runs their social media, the one who keeps them in line. Given is a band that absolutely would never have existed without Haruki. Yet he feels outshined by the other three members. There are several scenes depicting Haruki struggling with this. Akihiko is often the one to whom he voices his insecurities, and always without fail sets him straight. There is one particular exchange, during the same conversation when Akihiko reveals that he has a flatmate, when Haruki calls himself ordinary (凡人枠) and Akihiko retorts that he is not, he is 調停者枠....which is difficult to translate, but essentially means mediator, but in this case is denoting that he is the one who brings the different pieces of the band together (both musically, and as a person). Akihiko tells him then, "You're the one that everybody seeks," with a particular look in his eyes even as he reaches for Haruki's face. (Haruki pulls away and Akihiko pulls back and laughs it off.)

But the undercurrent is, for the first time, Haruki is beginning to see the truth of the words that he never quite believed. He is wanted and needed...he just needs to find a way to explain this to the other members of Given. In particular, Akihiko, who has always felt to Haruki like someone on equal or higher footing than himself, despite Haruki himself being older.

And these are the undercurrents at play as we head into the scene in question.

The Crucial Chapters 19-20

Akihiko shows up on Haruki's doorstop in the middle of the night, with an injured face from a fight with Ugetsu.

Haruki lets him in and they start talking as usual....but this time, it's different. They are both just a little bit at odds in a way they have never been before.

Haruki is aware, now, of a facet of Akihiko's life that until recently he had believed was left in the past.

Akihiko perceives that Haruki is hiding something, and in his typical way, immediately wants to know what it is.

This is why, when Akihiko asks his questions and asks if Haruki is hiding something, Haruki snaps back in a way we have never seen him do before:

[Tr: "[I am, but] you're one to talk!"]

Akihiko grabs Haruki by the wrist and asks again, and Haruki tells him...but throws in that the band he is doing support for is his ex's band.

Akihiko responds, "So you're going back to your ex?" and proceeds to crawl on top of Haruki to acknowledge for the first time what has always been unspoken between them: "You're in love with me, yet you're gonna run away?"

As Haruki lies sputtering for a response (he tries to pretend ignorance, but can't finish a sentence, between Akihiko pressing closer and his own shock) Akihiko reaches for Haruki's braid—the hair that Haruki has been growing out for as long as he has known Akihiko, as something like a wish charm (願掛け) for his love; the hair that Akihiko is somewhat obsessed with, taking every opportunity he can to play with it or style it—and speaks words that reveal that he is still fixated on Haruki's ex.

[Full text: 春樹さぁ、元カノがどうとか言ってたけど、お前こんなんで本当に女なんか抱いてたの？

Translation: You talk about this ex-girlfriend, Haruki, but did you seriously have sex with women like this?

Note: the こんなんで/"like this" is beautifully ambiguous. On a surface level of course it is referring to Haruki's long hair—with all the years of pining and love for Akihiko that that implies—but it also draws attention to how they are right now. The fact that Akihiko has crawled on top of Haruki as he has before, and Haruki does not fully push him away. It draws attention to the way that Akihiko himself is so central to Haruki's entire being.]

While Haruki flushes and thinks to himself, "Shut up, shut up! I did have sex with women, before I met you!" Meanwhile, Akihiko kisses him—a kiss that the art carefully does not show us lip-to-lip, either only showing us angles where we cannot see the point of contact, or focusing on the contact of only their tongues. Make no mistake, this is not a romantic kiss. This is a kiss full of frustration and pent up emotions and two years of unspoken, unacknowledged emotion brewing between these two.

Akihiko begins to strip Haruki further, and Haruki interjects, 「え、うそ、うそうそ、待った」(tr: "Wha- wait wait wait, just a sec"), which Akihiko ignores, and proceeds to begin performing oral sex on Haruki, even as he acknowledges internally that his actions are taking out his frustration with Ugetsu on Haruki.

[Note: the words Haruki uses at this point are not clear "Stop" signals. え、うそ、待った are all words that convey shock and uncertainty, and it is noteworthy that Haruki does not at any point use a word that would convey an equivalent of "Stop". That doesn't make this consensual, as his consent has not been obtained, but this is important to note, that Haruki deliberately does not ever outright tell Akihiko to stop.]

This is where Akihiko reflects on his messy relationship with Ugetsu, and the lingering hold it has on him:

Even since Ugetsu and I broke up, we periodically continue to clash. Sometimes it's about the timing at which Ugetsu found a new guy. Sometimes it's just before or after Ugetsu is away for a long time. Sometimes these clashes come suddenly, immediately after we have been intimate for a few days, just like we used to be. Like he is urging me, "Great, here's an opportunity. Let's part ways and break up for real." Like he is shutting me out of his world by force, to reinforce that he doesn't need me. What the hell? If you don't want me, why do you allow me to hold on? If you sympathize with my holding on, why do you try to throw me away? I want to trap you. I want to escape. I want to give up. I can't fully give up. I want to touch you. I can't breathe...

And when Akihiko comes back to the present, some time has past. His shirt is gone, Haruki places a hand over Akihiko's with tears in his eyes, and for the first time, says やめてよ [approx. translation: "Please stop," but this is a very gentle way of saying it—a plea in softer language]....and then continues, そんな顔しないでよ、辛そうな顔しないでよ、なんなの？言ってよ、なんでもしてあげるから [tr: "Please stop looking like that, like you're in such pain...What is it? Please tell me. I would give you anything."]

It is the なんでもしてあげるから here that is utterly striking. @edragoon​ and I debated translations and arrived on "I would give you anything" as the best option, but even with Haruki's soft language leading up to this, even with his words so focused on Akihiko's pain, the sheer love conveyed by these words is heart-wrenching—as is the art, Haruki's hand reaching out to Akihiko's face.

Akihiko has unearthed Haruki's unspoken feeling as part of his self-destructive spiral in a move that he no doubt expected to hurt Haruki, but instead, Haruki has owned up to his no longer hidden feelings and offers all of himself to Akihiko; turns the focus back onto Akihiko and his pain, rather than on himself, as Akihiko probably expected. As no doubt has happened in similar situations with Ugetsu.

And Akihiko, caught between Haruki here and the mess in his heart that is Ugetsu, expresses resentment that these words are coming from Haruki instead of Ugetsu.

"Why did you have to be the one to say that?" Akihiko laments silently, and then out loud,

[tr: "Telling you won't change anything."]

He follows this up with a small, "Sorry," and wonders to himself "Why couldn't it have been you?" (In Japanese, as in English, it is ambiguous whether he is wishing that Haruki were the one he wanted those words from, or that Ugetsu were the one saying those words. The last use of "you" in his internal monologue was directed at Haruki, supporting the first interpretation, but he is also lost in his head, so it would be no surprise if he is swaying back and forth.)

The scene breaks here, and on the next page, Haruki is curled up facing the back of the couch, fully dressed in new clothes and his hair now pulled back in a ponytail, and Akihiko is seated on the floor with his back to the couch, shirtless.

[Tr: "I'm sorry. Truly. I was completely in the wrong."]

Haruki responds, "That's not the part I want an apology for," even as he remembers those damning words, Telling you won't change anything.

[Tr: "...I said I'd give you anything. By the end it was basically consensual."]

Haruki goes on to say Akihiko is free to stay over, but he will be going to a friend's place.

Akihiko visibly panics, but only manages to call Haruki's name once as Haruki tells him he can use anything, can leave the door unlocked, but simply should be gone by morning.

Haruki leaves the apartment, and we see him cry as he walks through the darkened streets as those words Akihiko spoke again.

Left behind, Akihiko berates himself for how much he lets himself lean and depend (甘える) on Haruki, and he reflects on the events with his family and Ugetsu that lead him to where he is, without anywhere else to go. [NOTE: this is no doubt a significant factor in his later decision to move out of Haruki's apartment once as he goes through the process of bettering himself.] He contemplates the ways in which he has behaved towards Haruki, the parts of his own life he has almost instinctively hidden from his view.

Akihiko spends the night on the floor by the couch. (A shot of the clock at one point tells us it is 1:20am.)

We see morning dawn, and it is as Take is at work discussing lunch break that he gets a text from Akihiko, asking if he's seen Haruki. It is in the evening, when Take goes home, that he finds Haruki listless and hollow-eyed in front of his apartment.

The clock reads 9:40pm when Haruki comes home at last. Apart from the few hours he was with Take, Haruki has spent the better part of a night and a day alone who knows where.

[Tr: "Oh, you're still here"]

The hair that Akihiko had adored, the hair that Haruki had been growing since the day he met and fell for Akihiko, is cut short.

The Aftermath

The two of them don't shy away from the subtext of the last day—especially Haruki, who says blandly, "Sorry, but I'm tired after your rejection of my feelings, as you can see. Please go home." And when Akihiko tries to reach for him with a, "Wait, but—" his hand his slapped away by Haruki, who informs him, "Look, I'm angry at you." and cuts off Akihiko's attempted apology one syllable in with an admonishment that an apology will only make him angrier.

But Akihiko says what he should have said the night before—that he is at the end of his rope and has nowhere to go. He quietly asks to be permitted to stay in Haruki's apartment, assuring him that he will sleep on the floor, that he will not do anything again. He begs for Haruki to help him.

Haruki is furious.

「サイアク」the narration repeats: "[This/he] is the worst."

At last, Haruki agrees, but with the words, "If you weren't a band member, I'd throw you out."

The next day at band practice, Akihiko and Haruki are wildly out of sync, and while Haruki puts on a carefree smile for Uenoyama and Mafuyu, he is still spiraling with despair and humiliation.

And yet Akihiko too is on pins and needles, reacting with abject (though silent) horror when Uenoyama asks Haruki what's wrong.

But Haruki tells Uenoyama and Mafuyu nothing, and when he walks off and Akihiko goes after him, the words that come out of his mouth are all about his insecurities about his place in the band. About how he is too ordinary and does not belong in such a band of geniuses.

This is not what Akihiko was expecting his outburst to be about; this is also familiar territory for him, that he knows how to handle. Akihiko knows music.

He assures Haruki of why his music was off today, as he would have any other day. He assures Haruki that he is utterly deserving of his place in their band, as he has so many times before.

[Tr: "I've pretty much always told you that you're necessary, haven't I!?"]

And all at once, memories come rushing back to Haruki of so many times that Akihiko has told him of his value.

Haruki's anger loses its momentum and he deflates. They had back to Haruki's apartment, with Akihiko promising to cook dinner, as he is the freeloader. (Another nod to his tendency to view these arrangements as transactional.)

Living together proves a disillusionment process for Haruki. Of course, the night that Akihiko first came to his apartment was the enormous catalyst, but the disillusionment process continues.

All of those ways in which he had formerly idealized Akihiko crumble one after another for Haruki as they live together. Akihiko cooks, but he only has one flavor profile, and often makes fried rice. Akihiko spends most of his days on music, be it violin or the drums, and it is louder than Haruki is used to with his bass—it is also evidence that Akihiko is the musician he is because he puts in the work, not just inherent talent.

...And that brings us to the end of volume 4, so I think I shall stop here!

If you read all this way, thank you, and I hope this added something positive to your day!

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

hi I’m here to review the Clementine comic. it’s not good.

Does this even need an introduction? You know why I’ve gathered you all here today. You know the comic exists, and you probably know that it’s not great and we’re all upset about it. 

Myself included. I am not okay. At all. 

Skybound could’ve literally spit in my face and I’d come out feeling better than I did reading this comic, because this comic is an insult to the original Telltale games and Clementine as a character. 

This comic is a fancy fanfic. Glorified fanfiction. It’s not canon, and Skybound and Tillie can pretend that it is, but it’s not. Bold of them to assume we’d just accept this from people who didn’t work on the original games and never wrote for Clementine before, and based on this comic alone, any chance of us taking it seriously is gone. 

I’m gonna go through every single page, every panel, of this comic and give you my review. So I guess if you’re worried about spoilers [though at this point why would you?] then be warned, spoilers for the entire comic ahead. 

I also wanna add that I have nothing against Tillie Walden. I know a lot of dingdongs are harassing her on insta over this comic and that’s not okay. You telling her how much you hate her isn’t going to change anything. If anything, you keep being assholes to her and she’s just gonna block everything out, even things simply critiquing her work in hopes that it helps her improve. 

You’re allowed to be upset about the comic and share your feelings about it, but don’t take it out on the actual human being like that. Besides, like I’ve said before, if Tillie wasn’t gonna make the comic, Skybound would’ve found someone else to do. This was coming no matter what because Skybound wants that coin. 

That being said, I’m not going to hold back my opinions on this comic. Skybound and Tillie made this comic, they put it out there and asked for money for it, therefore I’m allowed to explain why it’s garbage as well as ponder over the questionable intent and whether or not Tillie actually has played these games. Y’know, it’s like how I have nothing against Kent, but sometimes he says things I disagree with and well, y’know how it goes. 

Alright, this is gonna be long, so let’s go--

The first few shots we get are of the school, two people sleeping, and Clementine’s empty bed. Nothing super note-worthy, we have no idea who is sleeping in the beds, it’s just there to establish that it’s early and everyone’s still asleep. 

The drawing of the school looks fine? Not super accurate, but I can give it a pass since it’s a few years later, I assume. What I can’t give a pass is how you managed to already mess up on the first page of your comic. 

Because..... why are you implying that Clementine’s room is upstairs? First of all, seems kinda dumb to put Clem, who has only one leg and has to walk with crutches, upstairs. Also, if you’ve played TFS and paid any attention to where her room is actually located [the dorms] then you’d know there isn’t any stairs leading to their floor. It’s the side building next to the admin building, you walk through the door, go down the hall, take a left and their dorm is right there sooo..... 

Oh right, it’s probably done this way so that we can have such a suspenseful moment where Clementine is sneaking out while the others are asleep and her foot makes a creeeeeeakk that could wake everyone up, thwarting her plans of abandoning everyone quietly so she doesn’t have to deal with any consequences. 

Because yeah, Clementine is sneaking out with all of her supplies because apparently, she’s been planning an escape from this place for a while. 

And just look at how gosh darn happy she is about it. You can’t see or hear me, but know that I’m laughing. Don’t worry, I will talk about her abandoning everyone later.

But first, I have a gripe with Clementine's design in this comic. It doesn’t look like her. This art of her right here is the most accurate we get throughout all 12 pages, and it’s the best looking, too. 

Moving on, she slams the door shut while this walker changes faces and hair between panels, so that’s cool. I will say, I like the idea of the Ericson crew putting spikes on the door. That’s fun. 

Though Clementine slamming the door shut while trying to sneak out seems counter productive but it fits with the theme this comic has of inconsistency, so it works. 

Next we have Clementine going to what I believe is the fishing shack by the river, and she’s going through some things that she’s stashed away, telling us that she’s been planning this escape for a while. 

Oh good, she has a map. Well at least now she won’t get lost out there in the woods while she makes her escape... also that last panel with her profile.... why does it look so funny? Like this page of the comic doesn’t look too bad, but there is something off putting about her eye there and how she has zero expression. 

And it turns out that rustle was a walker, and Clementine is super inconvenienced by this and gives us our first piece of witty dialogue.

Yeah you dumb walker, can’t you see Clementine is busy running away from home and abandoning all of her loved ones without a single goodbye so she doesn’t have to witness the consequences of her selfish actions?? Gosh, so rude.

Just a heads up, the dialogue in this comic is stilted, emotionless, and bland. The words have no flow, no charm, and never feel like they should be coming out of Clementine’s mouth. Then again, the upcoming graphic novels this is tied to are for young adult/middle graders so I guess we have to dumb everything down so their baby brains can process it. 

.....Why does her face look like that? Also, interesting that she decided to move her ponytail to the other side of her head.... which is a thing that happens throughout this comic, her hair will randomly change sides. 

I believe it’s a metaphor for her changing and inconsistent personality. 

So yeah, Clementine is just making off with the supplies she gathered [I’m sure Ericson doesn’t need ‘em anyway] and she’s just so gosh darn annoyed at all these small inconveniences bothering her.... because it’s just too early for this. 

.....Again, why does her face look like that?

I’m sorry, like I get it, Tillie’s style is supposed to be purposely messy yet minimal but it doesn’t work. When you do a comic in a more messy style, usually it has charm and heart put into it. Effort goes into the messy look, and when things are minimal, that usually means more clean, yeah? So you put them together and just..... that is nothing resembling Clementine’s face. 

Can we just--

Look at canon Clementine’s face. Look at the way her eyebrows are shapes, how wide her eyes are with her eye lashes. The dirt on her skin, the lines-- there is so much personality in her features. It doesn’t matter if she’s wearing a neutral expression or she’s expressing anger or joy or sorrow or whatever. 

Now, is it fair to compare a model of Clem from the games to the Clem in this comic? Well, I assume that if Tillie is doing this comic, she would use references from the game to ensure that Clementine is recognizable, especially now that she’s no longer wearing her signature hat. 

So why does she look like this? Why do I look at these drawings of her face and see nothing but a pair of eyes, a nose, and a mouth? You might as well draw me a simple smiley face. And I get that it’s a comic, and it’s a lot of work to draw the same character over and over again and you gotta cut corners somewhere, but maybe put some effort into the close up shots of her face so that we can actually see it’s her? 

Other fan artists have made comics in their styles that shine bright with Clementine’s personality, so what happened here? 

Anyway, surprise..... it’s not a walker annoying Clementine. 

........Why does AJ look like that??? I’m sorry, I hate to do the same thing I just did but--

Just because you put Clementine’s hat on AJ that doesn’t automatically make it him. I just.... wow. This feels like there wasn’t a single reference involved, like if someone gave Tillie a basic description of AJ and she just did this. 

But appearances aside, what is AJ saying? He says that he knew it, that Clementine’s leaving and I cannot stand this dialogue. It’s unnatural. Again, I know you wanna dumb it down for all of us because I guess we dumb.... but this conversation does not feel natural. 

“I knew it. You’re leaving.” “AJ....” “I’m coming.”

Even if you changed it to, “I’m coming with you.” it would sound more natural. Hell, he doesn’t even question WHY she’s leaving, he just stands there like “I’m coming” like??? I’m sorry, have you ever heard a single word this murder baby has said? I assume you have because I assume you actually played TFS, right? Soooo.... what happened here?

.....whY DO THEIR FACES LOOK LIEK THAT KSAJDLKJAS:LKDJLKASJD:L--

So now we’re getting into it.... into the bullshit. 

Clementine tells AJ to go back to the school, and AJ says that she wasn’t even going to say goodbye..... and then more bad dialogue that sound unnatural when you try to fucking read it. 

First off.... AJ’s reaction to Clementine attempting to leave is barely anything. Again, I hate to keep questioning if you actually played TFS, but AJ would throw a fucking fit if he caught Clementine out here ALONE like this, attempting to leave. 

And then he says “Like last time? You were going to come back?” this sentence makes my brain hurt. I just.... “Like last time, right? You’re coming back?” UGH

Wow, I feel nothing. 

I’m sitting here watching these two imposters with fucked up faces who are supposed to be Clementine and AJ and I feel nothing. 

I’m not even going to comment on the faces anymore. You can see it. You know. 

So yeah... AJ tells her the #1 rule, and reminds her that she promised.

Y’know.... she promised that she would never leave him again? Remember? At the McCarroll ranch? That flashback that was in TFS? The one you would watch if you played the game? 

Why is she looking straight at me when she should be looking at AJ as she says this? Is this Clementine’s way of telling me she’s sorry for what a shitty direction this is taking? I wouldn’t know because her face isn’t doing anything. Just because you draw a couple of tears that doesn’t mean I’m feeling the emotional heartbreak you’re attempting to convey. 

I don’t have enough middle fingers for this.

Well, my hat’s off to you. Ya did it. Ya fucked up everything single part of Clementine’s character in the span of two pages, I’m almost impressed. 

First off, the baby thing is weird. Why is she calling him that? She’s never called him that, which you should know.

Second, she’s not happy and that’s why she’s leaving. Clementine isn’t happy, and AJ can’t make her happy. Ericson can’t make her happy. So she’s going to go out on the road to.... what, be unhappy by herself? 

I’m sorry, but apparently we need a few reminders here of who Clementine is, because this isn’t her. 

This is Clementine. 

Clementine fought for years to find a home, something she hasn’t had since she was an eight-year-old girl before the apocalypse. The motor-inn wasn’t a home, the cabin wasn’t home, the ski-lodge, Howe’s, Wellington, Richmond, Prescott, none of them were home. 

She struggled for years, dealing with trauma after trauma while out on the road. She went from group to group, watching people she cared about die and she was powerless to do anything about it. Whenever she let her guard down and become comfortable, it bit in her in the ass and left her heartbroken.

She was there when AJ was born. She grew close to Rebecca while she was pregnant, she let herself do that even after everything she went through with Christa. Clementine had a bond with AJ even before he was born, and after Rebecca died, she did what she could to keep him safe, despite play choice. 

She cried when she thought AJ died and when she found him in that car again. She swore to protect him, to raise him right and love him. All they had was each other. 

And when she joined the new frontier and AJ got sick, she risked everything to save him and she was devastated when they took him away from her. When she found out he was alive, she is willing to go as far as helping Lingard overdose [INJECTING HIM HERSELF IF SHE HAS TO] to figure out his location. She did shitty things to find him, she killed people at McCarroll Ranch to find him again. 

Clementine raised him and he is her family, do you understand that? She went to hell and back for him, she taught him how to protect himself, and even though she made mistakes she sacrificed everything for him. She promised him that they would have a home of their own one day, she talked about how much she wished for a world where she didn’t have to worry about fighting and killing and AJ could just be a happy kid. 

She fought for Ericson, she watched her friends die or become mutilated by someone from her past. She allowed herself to be vulnerable enough to pursue a romantic relationship with Louis or Violet because she felt safe with them, felt safe at Ericson because it’s their home now. 

And when Clementine was bit, she thought she was going to die but she still fought to make sure AJ would be safe and happy without her and it was heartbreaking. She’s dying and the only thing she cares about is AJ. Not herself, not what’s going to happen to her after she dies or turns... no, she tries to make AJ smile again, she makes sure he remembers the rules, and she tells him that she loves him. 

Then he cuts off her leg, and she survives. AJ saved her fucking life, and she got to wake up at home and live to see her family again. She got to push AJ on a tire swing, she got to eat a hot meal and laugh with her friends, she got to make plans with her lover/best friend for what’s next for Ericson, and she got to talk to AJ and tell him the truth... and she asked him if she did a good job, and he’s honest with her right back. 

Hell, she tells him to keep her hat. Her iconic hat. The one thing she has left of her father, possibly her more cherished item. She lets him keep it. 

The last time we see Clementine, she’s happy. She’s sitting on the steps by herself, staring at her family with such fondness in her eyes and a smile on her face because she finally did it. She finally found a home where she can breathe. She has a bed to sleep in, she has AJ with her, she has a boyfriend/girlfriend who loves her and who she loves back, she has friends she can rely on. 

Clementine smiles, and lets out a small laugh. 

She doesn’t have to run anymore. 

And now you have the balls to tell me that AJ and Ericson don’t make Clementine happy anymore. 

She abandons everything to go back out on the road again, and that’s proof enough for me that you don’t understand a damn thing about Clementine or her journey. 

“ I don't even know the person I'm talking about... It's like all we have in common is the same name.” 

....Anyway.

Wow, Clementine found a car and kept is stashed. How lazy and convenient for this bullshit plot. 

And this is the part where I have to tell this comic to fuck off. 

What, you think if you throw in an incredibly inaccurate flashback next to a current pair of hugging Clem and AJ that I’ll feel anything but anger? That flashback is a slap to the face. It’s snowing, but the only time we’ve seen snow is in S2 when AJ was a literal new born, so why is he that big? Is that supposed to be from ANF because that ALSO doesn’t look like that AJ, and that’s not the outfit Clementine had on... AND there was no snow. This is cheap and meaningless. 

Any fan of the series who has played through the games could tell you this. 

So.... AJ runs into the woods and then we get this garbage.

This comic is awful. It misses the point of everything TFS, and the rest of the series, stood for. There is no heart here. I feel no happiness in reading it, and I don’t detect any passion behind it. It’s a lifeless comic that retcons everything in order to throw AJ away and start fresh with a new adventure for Clementine that makes no sense because the cow isn’t profitable unless it’s milked. 

This isn’t canon, and it won’t ever be canon, and honestly? At this point, I have no faith in the graphic novel trilogy. It will take a lot to do a turn around from this, and I don’t even know if that’s possible. 

Again, to reiterate, I don’t have anything personal against Tillie Walden herself. She’s just doing her job, and from what I’ve seen of her as a person, she seems like a sweetheart. I don’t want anyone giving her shit because I think the comic isn’t good or that you agree with me. All of my anger is directed at the comic itself, her work, not specifically her.... and a little bit at Skybound, because they’re the reason this is even a thing in the first place. 

So yeah.... there ya have it. 

[honklore]

hello! i just found ur blog and omfg i’m in love with your writing style! may i pls have some soulmate au hc’s for a reader who’s an artist? (i’m indecisive so you can choose who the hcs are with!) so like (insert cc u write for here) has got paint stains on his hands and like assorted sketches and stuff on his skin all the time from his soulmate. ty so much!! :]

masterpiece | quackity

(gn reader, quackity is the loml, reader is so talented but v messy, chat teases q to no end, quackity is the biggest softie in the world but refuses to acknowledge it, plantain slander)

listen to: rainbow connection (cover) by sleeping at last

sweet quackity :((

it starts when he’s eighteen, and it happens like almost immediately

he got these splotches of purple on his hands and his mom was like ?? are u getting into fights ?? are you okay???

and q rlly doesn’t mind aside from the weird questions when the colors are a little too close to red or purple

but!! nowadays mostly you just sketch w a pen

it’s during your classes usually,,, ur an art history major and you need something to occupy your hands (which is actually why you started drawing in the first place)

so during the day quackity will acquire lil sketches of famous paintings,,, or sometimes originals,,, but they’re always washed off before the day is done

sometimes random art facts/theories/studies but he has no idea why someone would write him about van gogh’s use of color

*cue u aggressively scrubbing your skin in the shower bc you always forget how permanent the ink is*

quackity is sort of... hesitant when it comes to writing on his skin. esp with streaming, he’s scared that fans will react badly ,, that negative thought keeps him at bay most days

but sometimes he writes lil notes on his legs,,, where chat won’t see anything ,,,, and they’re always either rlly sweet or rlly weird

(hope ur having a good day)

(hey bestie :P )

(soulmate my beloved)

(will u be the howie mandel to my dr. phil)

that last one made you genuinely worried for your future

badly drawn picture of a duck holding a briefcase (this is me)

which confuses you but as he draws more, you begin to associate him with ducks, and sometimes the duck wears a tie, and sometimes a beanie, and one time he had a giant blue axe which kind of concerned you

but you digress

when you get stressed u finger paint

and it’s just a way to create chaos and feel the cold paint on your skin like idk it’s relaxing yknow :)

quackity is streaming

and he doesn’t realize what’s happening. he’s reacting to attaway general,, and he’s kind of invested

it’s only when he pauses it to make a point that he notices

and he tries to hide it but chat notices right away

panicked!quackity

it’s not that he doesn’t trust chat he just knows things can get negative quickly and he wants his space to be free of that

but someone donates “artist q?”

and quackity lets the joke run

he stands up and pulls the mic super close to his mouth

“i’m in my artist arc chat! nihachu watch out >.>”

“CHAT WE’RE POPPIN OFF I AM A PAINTER NOW I PAINT”

it’s literally so silly bc q knows that chat knows but they’re letting him do his bit

and later that night he checks twitter and artist q is trending, but quackity’s soulmate is also trending

it’s all mostly supportive, and there’s already some rlly endearing fan art of quackity with paint all over his hands

quackity private tweet: ❤️❤️❤️

and he gets a lil confidence boost after that

answers questions abt u on his alt

tells the story of his mom thinking he was getting into fights

“guys paula is still my number one and my soulmate will just have to understand that”

“we already agreed we would both reject each other for taylor swift chat it’s fine”

answers donos and doodles on his hand

which he can do now bc chat knows!!!!

(you’re so talented your honor)

(have you ever seen attaway general?)

(charli d’amelio is in it)

(charli d’amelio is in it shit dixie sorry)

and you’re like !!! it’s on my hand !!!! it’s not hidden at all !!!

this image is so endearing to me like you’ve got paint stains all over your hands and quackity’s scrawl is filling in the empty spaces like he didn’t want to interrupt your work

duck with a beret, a mustache, and a paintbrush (this is me now)

ik he is going to share the most mundane things in a way of showing his love

(i listened to this song the other day)

(i bought a literal plantain today those things are big as shit)

(update: not good :/)

(i’m writing lore)

(i have an exam tomorrow)

just :(( sweet quackity wants u to know every little detail abt his life bc he wants u to know him

and you reply when u can

(added to my playlist!)

(i like plantain chips but i’ve never had the fruit alone)

(rip buddy :/)

(lore? like fnaf?)

quackity finds out you know extensive fnaf lore and the two of you stay up arguing about which is worse: the bite of ‘87 or the bite of ‘83

both of your legs look like newspapers that night and it takes a lot of scrubbing to get all of those off

one day you’re painting smth and quackity randomly gives you his discord

(add me and we can watch game theory together and see who is right)

the two of you end up watching it and getting in call with each other

when you hear his voice it’s like everything falls into place

he fills in all the empty spaces,,, answers all the questions you didn’t realize you had,,,, and he’s so wonderful that you find yourself missing him dearly whenever he’s not on call with you

you join him in calls on his streams sometimes like for jackbox or when he’s cooking

“CHAT MY SOULMATE IS A CHICA KINNIE”

you stop joining him on calls on his stream /s

but chat loves you and always takes ur side over q’s

you get tons of followers on your art account and you even get to sell some of your paintings!!

ur new favorite colors to use are blue and yellow i don’t make the rules

but everyone starts to catch on and they find it really sweet

you catch up on quackity lore solely for him and declare yourself a c!quackity apologist

you’ve definitely retweeted the meme that’s like “if villain bad why hot”

when u guys meet quackity kisses your forehead :((((

when you

a drawing of two ducks holding hands (this is us)

thank you for the kind words and for requesting !!!

[startanewdream]

It comes with the age

Summary: The thing about having birthdays is that you get older.

Or James Potter is not ready for his first white hair.

(Jily Lives AU)

Read below or on AO3:

It’s there.

James thought he had caught a glimpse of it in the mirror a few days ago, but he had accounted for just a strange reflex of the light. He had even searched for it in the mirror later - when he was alone, when no one would witness his moment of self-doubt -, but he hadn’t found it.

He was sure he had just imagined it.

Until today, when he was leaving the bathroom and checked himself in the mirror distractedly. On the morning of his birthday, as if the powers from beyond had decided to mess with him.

It’s there, a foreigner that has no right to be there and still is shining lazily and brightly against the dark locks around it.

His first white hair.

What should he do? Take it out?

He remembers teasing Remus a lifetime ago - though now he feels a lot more compassionate for Moony, whose hair was sprinkled with grey even before he was twenty - that if he took out a grey hair, another ten would appear in its place. It was Sirius that came up with it, so James is not sure he believes it, but he can’t take any chances.

One white hair is one more than he’d like to have until he was fifty at least. He just turned thirty. That’s way too young to have grey hair.

He takes a comb, something he doesn’t remember ever doing in this bathroom, and tries to arrange his hair for the first time in years (the last time was before his first date with Lily; Sirius almost laughed to death watching his attempt to straighten his hair and James had given up - whatever had possessed Lily to accept to go out with him, she clearly didn’t have a problem with his messy hair).

It helps to hide that white hair in the middle of the black strands, but then he turns his head and the light catches it again, exposing that revealing strand of hair. It seems to glow with the light, a bright silver sign yelling to the world: here, come look at it, James Potter has white hair.

It’s not that he is vain about his own hair - that would be Sirius, no question -, it’s just that its blackness was always part of it. If he was a fugitive, his character sketch would consist of his hazel eyes behind the rectangular glasses and his messy dark hair.

Dark hair. Not grey.

He needs to do something about it. It’s urgent.

He goes back to his room, searching on his bedside table for the ink they always leave there for some emergency letter. The pot is near empty and he files a mental note to replenish it later, but now he has more pressing matters.

He goes to the bathroom again, carefully opening the inkpot and pinching a little between his fingers. Then his other free hand grabs carefully the white hair, raising it; just a little bit of ink and it will all be fine -

'James? What are you doing?'

He lets the white hair fall immediately, his hand already messing his hair nervously and he turns to Lily with the most confident smile he can manage.

'Hi, love', he says, which makes Lily raise her eyebrows at him. It's really unusual for him to call her like that.

'You are taking long', she says slowly. 'Harry and I have your breakfast ready'.

'I'll be in a minute, just go downstairs -'

'Are you okay?'

'Yeah, yeah'.

'Then why is your hand covered with ink?'

James grimaces; his hand was hidden behind him, but the mirror - that treacherous thing that's exposing all his secrets today - showed the reflex, of course.

'Just trying something', he says nervously. 'Checking how I would look with a moustache, see?'

He draws a moustache around above his mouth with his hand, all curly at the end, and grins at Lily, expecting it to satisfy her curiosity - maybe Lily will just look at it as some weird prank.

'How do I look?'

'Classical', Lily answers amusedly. 'Now, not that I don't appreciate your effort, but what were you really doing?'

James sighs, defeated, and he sits on the closed toilet seat.

'I am old', he admits heavily. Lily blinks.

'Yes', she agrees carefully. 'Getting old is what happens on birthdays'.

'Not just because of it, but… look at it', he lowers his head.

'Hum… what should I be looking at?'

'Stop being nice to me, Lily. I know what is there. I can't deny it anymore'.

'James? I am starting to -'

'I have white hair!'

He raises his eyes, expecting to see the disgust on Lily's face, her realization that the dark-haired young man she married is fading away, but Lily is just blinking, confused.

'That one strand? It's no big deal'.

'Of course it's a big - wait, you already knew?'

'Yeah? You do know we sleep together, right? I saw it a few days ago'.

'And you didn't say anything before?'

'What was there to say? It's one white strand, not an illness'.

'It's a tragedy, that's what it is. It means my glorious youthful days are over'.

'I really doubt it, James', she says soothingly, kissing the top of his hair. 'You seemed pretty glorious last night', she winks at him and James feels smug despite himself.

The night before had been rather intense, he couldn't deny it; a very good start to his thirties, if he could say so himself.

And then there is something almost wistful sparkling in Lily's eyes, the remains of an old fear he always saw during the war.

'And I am glad you are old', she whispers, and when he opens his mind to retort, she lets out a soft laugh. 'More experienced, then. I mean… I am happy we are getting older together'.

'That's what we promised in our wedding vows', he remembers.

'To grow old and grumpy together', she repeats, eyes glistening. 'So… It makes me happy to see this one white hair. To know what it means. I hope to see many more'.

'Oh, fancying a grey-haired husband, Mrs. Potter?'

'If he is you, that's all I want', Lily assures him softly, and James grins back, raising his head to allow their lips to meet.

It's a very nice birthday kiss, and then he raises without interrupting it, pressing Lily closer to him, thinking that maybe he can also get a morning quality time for his birthday…

'Dad? Mom?', there is a cry coming from the bedroom.

They break apart with a familiar sigh - Harry always has impeccable timing; Lily winks at him, a promising gleam in her eyes, and James tries not to look too flustered.

'Here, Harry', he says nicely, leaving the bathroom. Harry is at the door of the room, his arms crossed and a grimace on his face.

'You were kissing, right?', he says, sounding properly appealed by the idea.

'A birthday kiss is a very good gift . One day you may find out', James teases, and Harry doesn't look convinced. James fights back a laugh. When he was nine, he wasn't very much interested in kissing anyone either.

'You were taking too long - wait, why is there a moustache on your face?'

'Oh', James flushes, while by his side Lily giggles, taking out her wand and cleaning his face. 'Just trying a new style. How would I look with a moustache?'

Harry shakes his head.

'I know it's your birthday - but don't'.

'And what's your opinion on grey hair?'

'Much better than a moustache', Harry answers, shrugging. 'I keep telling Sirius he should go grey, but then he goes he is a Black…'

'Wait', James blinks. 'Sirius has grey hair?'

'Oh', Harry stops, a guilty expression on his face. 'I shouldn't - never mind.

'Harry… come on, it cannot be that bad'.

'I shouldn't have seen it - I was just looking in his bathroom drawer for a band-aid, and then I saw it'.

'Saw what?'

'His entire hair collection', Harry whispers, amazed. 'He has a product for everything - more than you, Mom'.

'I knew his hair couldn't be that shiny naturally', James says to himself.

'Yeah, and then there was some hair dye too'. Harry flushes. 'That's when he found me. He told me it was for work, you know, for when he needs to disguise himself, but I am not sure'.

'So Sirius has grey hair then?'

'It comes with age', Lily replies, looking amused by the sudden change in James' humour. 'Now your ego is feeling better, can we go down for your breakfast?'

Harry jumps.

'Please, I am hungry! And we need to give you our gift!'

'We are coming', James promises, smiling. 'You can start, we will be there in a sec'.

Harry nods, grinning, and he runs out of the room; breakfast was always his favourite meal of the day.

'My gift is not a hair dye, right?', James asks playfully, as he and Lily leave the room.

She laughs.

'No, and don't go teasing Sirius about it'.

'I wouldn't dream of', James says, though he is feeling pretty happy that he is still far away from needing hair dye.

Maybe in his forties - if he still has hair; he remembers his father's hair had been wispy, and now he comes to think of it, the edges of his hairline have been thinning out...

'Oh, Merlin', he cries. 'Is my hair falling out?'

[with-paint]

A Drunk Video

Rating: Teen and up

Paring: Harry Styles x fem!reader (platonic pairing only)

Word Count: 3,641

Summary: You and Harry get absolutely wasted and make a decision to make a YouTube video. It was probably a bad decision

Warnings: lots of swearing, sexual themes but they’re all joking, WAP, small slut shaming

A/N: listen this was a fic I wrote aggggges ago. I just suddenly remembered it and wanted to share my sins with the masses. I’m not going to apologise for doing what’s RIGHT.

You hummed as you trotted up the stairs of the very modern apartment building. The grey walls were spotless and the bright white lights hung low.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you stepped onto the fourteenth floor landing. Why the hell did Harry even have an apartment? He was rich enough to buy a mansion. You contemplated this as you moved along the hall. Looking for the familiar 1402.

You smirked to yourself and knocked on the door. A few moments passed and the door swung open revealing the rock star himself. Harry’s Los Angeles apartment was very sleek. Harry in plaid pajama bottoms, a black jumper, and fuzzy socks, was not.

“Well someone looks comfortable for four pm.” You teased as he smiled at you. He nodded and opened the door wider to let his friend in.

“Had a rough night so I just wanted to be comfortable.” He said running a hand through his hair. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, not wanting to openly stare.

“Rough night hmm?” You teased again, a grin on your face. Harry rolled his eyes and nudged your shoulder.

“I might’ve binge watched that show you like. The entire show.” Harry mumbled as he fell on his couch. You snickered as you slid down next to him. Harry groaned and moved so his head was on your smaller shoulder.

“You binge watched Sherlock in one day? I’m impressed.” You laughed out as you ran your hand through his messy hair. Harry nuzzled more into you, trying to feel more of you scratch his head.

“Benedict Cumberbatch is.” Harry moved away slightly to put his hand in the air. He made the ‘okay’ sign and you laughed.

“That he is.” You nodded as Harry settled back down onto you. You two laid like that for a few minutes. You absentmindedly twirling and scratching Harry’s hair as you stared out of the giant windows making up his far wall. The busy Los Angeles evening greeted your site. It was comfortable.

“You want to order some food?” Harry spoke, his voice completely muffled by your shoulder. You smiled down at him. You were sure that if anyone could see you, they could tell how much you cared for the man. It wasn’t a romantic adoration, just true love for another person without expectations or further meanings. You just simply loved him.

“If you want. Pizza?” You asked, making you feel Harry’s smile press into you. He shifted so his head was lying on your lap. Harry stared up at you before closing his eyes peacefully.

“Read my mind.” He hummed as you ran a hand through his thick hair again. You smiled softly and brought your phone out of your pocket. You two ordered a pizza each and remained cuddled up until the doorbell rang.

Harry sighed and untangled himself from your lap. He padded over to the door as he ruffled his hair, trying to get it to appear less flat. He opened the door and greeted the delivery man with a smile.

You picked at the threads of your ripped jeans and flowed into the kitchen. As Harry was talking, you grabbed some plates and cups and brought them to Harry’s small glass table.

“We should film something for your channel.” Harry said as he closed the door behind him, the boxes being clutched in his arms. You smiled at him and nodded. You always felt a little guilty whenever you featured Harry on your channel. You never wanted for him to feel as if you were clout chasing. You were friends with him before you became big on YouTube and you wanted him to remember that.

“Yeah, we could sing some songs. Make it stupid.” You mused propping your chin on your hand. Harry smiled as you, dimples popping. He served you a slice and sat next to you in his seat.

“Make it stupid.” He agreed. The two always made sure that if they were going to post something, it had to be for laughs. Anything serious between you two was unheard of.

You had been a part of the Eroda music video. You had actually helped direct it. You and Harry had been drunk in Peru when the thought struck you both, and it was a collaborate idiotic idea that created the music video. To say that a few months later, you were dressed with weird hair as Harry sang to a fish, was serious? Absolutely not. You two just wanted to make something stupid. And you both fully succeeded.

As you two ate, you brainstormed on what you were going to sing. With a few glasses of wine in your stomachs, you had both equally bad ideas.

“Fuck.” You hissed as you accidentally spilled your wine on your clothes. Harry giggled as he eased the glass out of your hands.

“I think you drank too much,” He smiled and you couldn’t help but smile back. “I’ll go get you some clothes. You probably have some here anyway.”

You tried to dab the wine off you, but rolled your eyes. It was pointless. As you started to drum on the table, Harry chucked some clothes at your back. Your mouth opened in shock and you flipped him off.

You just pulled your shirt off and put a loose grey shirt then your short shorts on. Your usual go-to sleep clothes. You didn’t really care that you were changing in front of Harry. Lord knows you were comfortable enough with each other to see each other in your underwear. You looked up and Harry wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Let’s get this show on the road then, pop star.” You giggled as you leaned over and ruffled his hair. Harry looked at you lazily and watched you with half closed eyes. You wiped your hands on your shorts and set up your camera, focusing it on the two couches by Harry’s TV.

“Looks like we’re filming a porno.” Harry snickered, a wide smile on his face as he wiped his eyes. You smiled at him and flipped him off.

“You wish.” You sang as you put your laptop on his kitchen counter. You leaned forward and began typing with a smirk on your face.

“Imagine if we did have sex though.” Harry said. You furrowed your eyebrows and turned to look at him over your shoulder.

“Boy, I love you, but you are not touching me. Especially when we’re both drunk.” You said with a slight grimace. Harry pouted and leaned back in his chair.

“You take the fun out of everything.” He giggled and leaned his elbows on his table. He continued to watch you and a big smile spread over your face suddenly. You looked over at him with an evil glint in your eyes and Harry gulped. He especially didn’t like it when you gave him that look. The last time you turned to him with the evil eye, Harry had been convinced to be strapped onto a helicopter for the Sign of the Times music video as you laughed from behind the camera.

Little did Harry know you had picked a song conviently called Harry by Kelsey Karter. Kelsey wrote the song about your friend here. She posted a picture on Instagram with a tattoo of Harry on her cheek promoting the song. You had found it when the picture came out and it was honestly a banger. You also adored that Kelsey did it all for a publicity stunt and the tattoo wasn’t even real. Genius.

“Come to the couch H.” You teased as you hit record on your camera. Harry narrowed his eyes at you and fell over the back of his couch and laid down long ways.

Harry watched as you said your intro a few times. You kept stumbling over your words in your intoxicated state and that for whatever reason made Harry giggle. You flipped him off and smiled at the camera sweetly.

“This is my friend Harry,” Harry smiled, his dimples popping as he waved to the camera. He slouched down in his comfortable clothes, matching your attire. He was sure that once this video aired he was going to be clowned for how domestic you both looked, but he didn’t care. The sight of you two so content and in a state of bliss was very rare. You scrunched your nose at him. Something he returned happily.

“We’re going to sing you some songs, if you like. Harry, you want to go first?” You asked him as you cocked your head to the side. Harry tapped his chin in mock thought and shook his head.

“Your channel, you can go first.” He said, his voice drawing out slowly. You smirked and nodded.

“I’d like to just say that me and Harry are both pretty drunk. Also we were talking about porn earlier so there is slight context to why I’m doing this.” Harry put his head in his hands and groaned. He knew that you were carefree enough to be okay with putting that on the Internet and he just had to accept that. And be prepared to put twitter on silent.

You walked over to Harry’s kitchen counter. Your laptop was opened and shining brightly in the slightly dim room. You tapped on it, making sure to keep it from the camera and Harry’s pryful eyes.

You smirked as the music started and fluffed your hair as you walked over to Harry. You tugged him to sit up on the couch and began to sing.

“I blacked out, passed out, first time we met. It wasn't drugs, could be love, but it's probably sex.” You sat on the couch next to him and at ‘sex’ you put a hand on his thigh. Harry raised his eyebrows at you as you smiled and continued to sing along with the recording.

“Cool stare, greased hair curled around your eye. I wanna take a dirty picture, send it to your mind, I'm not just thinkin' 'bout you.” You ran your hand through his hair again and Harry smiled a little wider. You moved your hand down to his neck and ran it down to his chest.

“I'll treat you better than the girls you're hangin' out with. Take you to heaven and I'll show you all around it. I'll never ever let you down. Ooh.” You moved off the couch and circled to the back. Wrapping your arms around his neck and leaned down and sang into his ear. You blew in it making Harry giggle as a drunk flush came over his features.

“Harry. I'm gonna make you love me, you’re gonna make me breakfast. It's a secret just between us we can keep it low-key. I ain't being funny, you should be so lucky to put your, put your velvet arms around me.” You fell over the back of the couch like Harry did earlier. But this time you put your legs around his waist as you made him wrap his arms around your shoulders. Harry laughed at this and bobbed his head to the music, showing to you and the camera that he didn’t care for your sexual intentions just as much as he knew you didn’t care to really make it sexual.

“I'm g-g-g-g-gonna make you love me.” You sang and they both tried to not burst out laughing.

“Yeah, I'm staring at you in the magazines every day. Feel like I'm seventeen never been touched this way. I'm thinking 'bout you.” You rolled off him to sit on his coffee table. With idiotic acting you crossed your legs and pulled up one of the magazines that was laying there. You gazed over the top of it with a smirk and Harry wiggled his fingers in a wave.

“I'll treat you better than the boys you're hangin' out with.” You bit your lip and leaned back on the coffee table. You knew you looked like an idiot, but that was the point.

“Take you to heaven and I'll show you all around it. I'll never ever let you down. Ooh Harry.” You rotated your head like a snake charmer and at the beat dropped, you sunk to your knees in front of Harry. He laughed and spread his legs so he could look at you.

“I'm gonna make you love me. You're gonna make me breakfast. It's a secret just between us we can keep it low-key. I ain't being funny. You should be so lucky to put your, put your velvet arms around me.” You tried not to laugh as you stood up and started to dance ‘erotically’. Harry leaned back and pretended to make it rain on you.

“Oh, Harry, Harry. Mmmm, Harry.” You got back on the floor and crawled the short distance to the couch. Making sure to overemphasize your shoulder blades moving.

“Oh, baby, I'm gonna make you love me. Yeah. So put your, put your, put your arms around me.” You sat next to Harry and pushed him to lay down. As you hit the end of the lyrics you laid across his body as Harry laughed obnoxiously.

“I'm gonna, I'm gonna. Gonna, gonna make you love me. Harry!” You sat up and started to twerk horribly on him making Harry cover his face with his arm and he tried not to cry laughing. You made your voice crack on the last note of the song and Harry couldn’t help himself. He tackled you off the couch as you doubled over laughing.

“Are you trying to get me hard in front of all of these people?” Harry joked hovering over you. You snickered and looked behind you at the camera. You caught your breath and nodded at Harry with a grin to match his.

“Mmhm.”

“Well it didn’t work so that’s embarrassing for you.” Your jaw dropped in mock offense and Harry narrowed his eyes at you. You both stared at each other in silence for a few seconds before Harry lost it and you both started laughing again. Harry rolled off you, still giggling.

“So that was Harry by Kelsey Karter. I actually showed this song to Harry. We both had a very entertaining time.” You said, popping up to talk to the camera. Harry put his head on your shoulder and smiled.

“My song is a lot less suggestive. Because this is a family show,” Harry cut you off and you covered your face with your hand. A bright smile spread across your face. Harry leaned forward to look at you.

“Or is itttttt?” You both said and were sent into a new fit of drunken hysterics.

“If you could take that seat there,” Harry said as he pulled you back onto the couch that he was sitting in earlier. He skipped over to your laptop and began typing.

“Get ready to get your panties wet.” He said loudly, making you laugh. You knew you were going to have to edit that out but for now you just laughed at Harry’s brash, drunk personality.

He cleared his throat and clicked play on you laptop. Your mouth dropped. He was not doing this on camera for potentially millions to see. Holy shit.

“Whores in this house. There's some whores in this house.”

You covered your mouth as Harry moved around and danced like a weirdo. He started doing the robot and you leaned your head back in a cackle. You were so fucking glad you were filming this.

“I said certified freak, seven days a week. Wet-ass pussy, make that pullout game weak!” Harry rapped out choppily and started dancing again. You watched him make up horrible moves and he started doing the dance routine One Direction always did which made you almost jump out of your seat.

“Put this pussy right in your face. Swipe your nose like a credit card. Hop on top, I wanna ride I do a kegel while it's inside. Spit in my mouth, look in my eyes. This pussy is wet, come take a dive. Tie me up like I'm surprised. Let's role play, I'll wear a disguise.” Harry rapped, gaining more of a flow the longer he rapped. You were surprised at how well he knew the lyrics. He spun around his living room and you laughed again.

“I want you to park that big Mack truck right in this little garage.” He yelled, dropping to his knees. You shoved a pillow over your face to keep from screaming as tears of laughter rolled down your face.

“Gobble me, swallow me, drip down the side of me. Quick, jump out 'fore you let it get inside of me. I tell him where to put it, never tell him where I'm 'bout to be. I'll run down on him 'fore I have a n**** running me. Talk your shit, bite your lip.” Harry spit out. He put his hand over his mouth when the n word came up and then he slid forward grabbing your hand. He put it to his heart as he rapped.

“Now get your boots and your coat for this wet-ass pussy. He bought a phone just for pictures of this wet-ass pussy. Pay my tuition just to kiss me on this wet-ass pussy. Now make it rain if you wanna see some wet-ass pussy.” Harry winked and lay on the coffee table with his arm propping his head up as he laid down.

“Look, I need a hard hitter, I need a deep stroker. I need a Henny drinker, I need a weed smoker. Not a garden snake, I need a king cobra with a hook in it, hope it lean over.” He pointed at you and your smile widened as you wiggled your shoulders and mouthed out ‘Yass’.

“I don't wanna spit, I wanna gulp. I wanna gag, I wanna choke. I want you to touch that lil' dangly thing that swing in the back of my throat.” At this Harry slid off the table and brought you to stand with him. He moved around and horribly tried to ballroom dance as you laughed so hard you could barely hear the blaring music of Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion.

“Your honor, I'm a freak bitch, handcuffs, leashes. Switch my wig, make him feel like he cheating. Put him on his knees, give him something to believe in. Never lost a fight, but I'm looking for a beating.” Harry twirled you out of his arms and punched the air to the sound effect of the fighting bell. You were feeling inspired and started to twerk like Tina Belcher. Harry tried so hard to not laugh, he almost stopped rapping.

“In the food chain, I'm the one that eat ya. If he ate my ass, he's a bottom feeder. Big D stand for big demeanor. I could make you bust before I ever meet ya.” Harry spun you around and winked obnoxiously.

He dipped you and you pushed him off as you fell to the ground. Your laughter took over you. You did not expect him to rap about getting rimmed, but you were so glad you were recording.

“If he fuck me and ask, "Whose is it?" When I ride the dick, I'ma spell my name. Ah.” You couldn’t help yourself and you started rapping along with him.

Harry jumped on his couch and pulled you up with him. You both just jumped around and laughed as the music continued to play.

“Bring a bucket and a mop for this wet-ass pussy.” Harry wiggled his shoulders like ‘the wobble’ as he slowly snuck to his knees on the couch.

“Now from the top, make it drop. That's some wet-ass pussy.” At this, Harry grabbed the back of your knees and pulled them to him. You shrieked as you fell on his body and you both laughed as you fell onto the couch.

“I'm talking WAP, WAP, WAP.” You couldn’t help but shout this with Harry and you rolled off him and onto the floor.

You propped your chin on the couch as he circled it and stood behind it. With his hands on the back he leaned down so you were a few inches apart.

“That's some wet-ass pussy. Macaroni in a pot.” he whispered leaning way to close to you. You fell back and hit the coffee table with a bang. You clutched your elbow in pain, but kept laughing at him. Harry couldn’t help himself and as the song finished up. He just doubled over the couch and cracked up.

The song started over, but you both were too far gone from laughing to pay attention. Harry’s apartment was full of laughter as your faces went red and you gasped for breath.

“Harry oh my god!” You shrieked and threw a pillow at him. He slapped his thigh and as he giggled.

“We’re making ourselves appear as a pair of sluts.” You said and pushed off the couch to stand up. Harry giggled and nodded.

“Less suggestive my ass.” You teased with a smirk and Harry snickered.

“Yup!” He exclaimed. Harry hopped over the back of his couch to sit down as he tried to regain his breathing. You moved to sit next to him. You were both flushed with big smiles and you waved at the camera.

“Bye!” You yelled and Harry waved too. You moved to turn the camera off and you plopped back onto the couch.

“What the fuck even was that video?!” You exclaimed and Harry smiled at you and shrugged.

“Just say we’re drunk. Then everything makes sense.” He said, throwing an arm around your shoulders. You nodded and covered your face with your hands. You knew this was going to break the internet and honestly you couldn’t wait.

[inviouswriting]

Playful.

Arjuna x Fem!Reader

Smut.

Perhaps it is the subtle way he holds himself, or the simple allure of his eyes. You find giving Arjuna light teasing a way to get him to let go of his edge. Yet sometimes tugging on his tie helps too. 

While everyone is busy with the party, you are subtle with tugging the light blue tie Arjuna wears. It’s a simple pull, much like how you tug the ribbon on the back of his red outfit. Only instead of pulling your archer backwards, you pull him forward.

Your reasoning for this, is to keep him from fighting Karna. The lancer had doused his brother in expensive champagne, and if looks could kill, you are certain Chaldea would have been a crater by now. So here you were pulling the archer away, him glaring and murmuring curses under his breath about getting his brother back somehow.

You shot Karna a warning glare about taunting Arjuna, and the lancer only smiles in his own way. Arjuna knows better than to cause unnecessary damage to a temporary home. So when you were out of range from anyone important you feel him stop behind you, only for you to pull the tie. Arjuna is surprised at this demeanor you present him, he also finds it exciting.

You lead him to a spare bedroom, you urge him inside it. Once inside you are laughing a little at his indignation with Karna. Arjuna folds his arms, and you reach up to comb your fingers through hair that was beginning to be sticky from the alcohol that drenched him.

“We should get you cleaned up.” You mention, and Arjuna agrees. He starts to undo the clothing but you have another idea, your fingers weave the light blue tie between them. Another tug and you pull him with you into the shower, just like any room, ornate and spacious. You usher your archer inside the shower stall.

“Master... shouldn’t we undress first?” You shake your head no, there is a look to him, that you wanted to have against you wearing his clothes.

“They’re soiled too, so why not enjoy this?” Arjuna lifts you to him as you tug again on the silk to claim him in a kiss. Like a switch is flipped, Arjuna understands the excitement, specially after you turn the shower on you both. You yelp at the cold water at first, and Arjuna fumbles for heat. He notes the dress you have been wearing, a sleeker fit on you even more form fitting. The high slit in the side had been teasing him all evening.

Arjuna leads with another kiss placing lovebites where he can reach. You run fingers through his hair, keeping it styled the way he had it, albeit more messy with tugging as you mouth kisses along his face tracing the curve of his jawline.

You palm his cock through his pants tracing the outline of it with a finger. You can feel him hardening under your hand as you attempt to pump him through the fabric. Listening to him growl and sigh till he swats your hand away.

 Your archer lifts you easily against the shower wall, and you hold onto him as he messes with the front of his pants to undo the zipper to free himself. Arjuna reaches under the skirt of the dress to shove aside the thin piece of lace and helps you lower onto him. Arjuna sighs in pleasure at the feel of you around him, and you feel the twitch even.

“Arjuna...” You sigh out as he moves, lifting your hips and thrusts up into you while you roll yours down onto his. You meet him for open mouthed kisses, his tongue finding yours to circle, you draw his into your mouth to suck on while holding onto him tight.

Your hands go into his hair and tug at the back, then smoothing up into his hair causing a delightful shiver when your nails scratch along the back of his head down the nape of his neck. This earned you a series of hard thrusts, and you repeat it for more of this rougher side of your gentle archer, the one who has always been afraid to hurt you now losing control over his senses in favor of fucking you hard against the shower wall.

Arjuna feels your one hand sneak to the tie, and he gets tired of you pulling on it. So pinning you against the wall, he undoes the tie and winds it around both wrists after wresting the other above your head and ties your hands to the shower head keeping you suspended for him while he makes work of undoing his vest and top shrugging them off to expose the well toned dark skin underneath. You do admire the fact royal blue and white looks good on him.

“Enough of that tie... my turn.” You eye him as he reaches back under the skirt and pulls the panty at the seams to rip them off. You stare bemused he is ruining a pair you liked to wear for him. Arjuna just raises an eyebrow, not like he won’t get you another. 

You keep yourself suspended so the tie doesn’t dig into your wrists terribly, and shove back into his waist when he picks up the lost pace. Even with him tugging the front of your dress down to expose your breasts, watching them subtly bounce with his thrusts. 

Your eyes widen when he hits a spot that makes you see stars, a smirk graces the archer’s face when you look at him pleading. He avoids that spot for now, he didn’t want you to come too soon. He was still far away from his own pleasure while you were getting too close to yours.

 In fact he stops after he pushes deep into you and stills. You feel frustrated at him holding still. You see him shift to push the pants down more for better access. Without the frustration of clothing snagging or sticking to his skin, Arjuna gets alot more rambunctious.

You being suspended before him, his hands on your waist, fingers digging into your thighs gripping your rear as he thrusts harder. He listens to the moans that fall from your lips, proud brown eyes almost glow at what he does to you. The half-lidded eyes when he deliberately hits that one spot that makes your hands clench above your head.

Arjuna takes your hands out of the tie and lowers down to the floor of the shower, guiding you to straddle and ride him. He hits wonderful inside and you ground down to feel every inch of his thick cock. One of your hands seeks out his and he gives it to you letting you lace fingers together gripping his hand tighter.

Your movements increase as you chase your orgasm, raising your hips higher to push down on top of Arjuna’s. Louder cries torn out of you at how deep he reaches inside at this angle, Arjuna pushes up and sees you come undone with gripping his hand tighter. 

Arjuna pulls you down with his free hand harder on his cock as he chases his own high, following after you spending himself deep. You lean down to kiss him repeatedly, tongue delving into his mouth while his searches yours till all you can do is moan into the kiss and him swallowing them in aftershocks.

It is only a little bit afterwards you realize the water had started to run cold. Your back to the stream before it hits Arjuna, you jolt upright when ice cold hits your bare back. Arjuna questions you with a raise of his eyebrow then feels the temperature on his legs. He sits upright with you and reaches up to turn the water off and hold you against him. He tilts your head back to his to kiss over your face again and press close as he gets. 

“Again?” You ask him, giving a teasing push of your waist with his again still very much connected to the archer.

“Yes, only... on the bed instead of here? I want more range.” You nod in agreement, being subjected to a relentless Arjuna is the best sensation ever. Specially when he goes full tilt with you. 

“Good, because I am not satisfied yet.” You tell him, only to earn his smirk.

“I will do my best for my precious master.”

[snackhobi]

pairing: min yoonji x reader / word count: 9.7k / genre: f x f smut, assassin!au

summary: a fic inspired by this post and that’s pretty much it-

warnings: sexually explicit content (NSFW), talk about death/assassination (nothing graphic dw! but they are assassins, so), mild violence, unnecessarily sexually charged lipstick application, face riding, fingering, multiple orgasms, oral (f giving/receiving), use of restraints, overstimulation, squirting, kind of dom!yoonji?

a/n: this is an entirely self-indulgent fic I wrote as a gift to myself for my bday, it’s a lil rushed bc I wanted it done for today! women are so very beautiful and I am so very weak, thank you ladies for all being so amazing ily. this was meant to be a short pwp and now it’s almost 10k but I have no regrets bye

--

la petite mort French literal meaning: ‘the little death’; also an expression used to refer to the brief loss or weakening of consciousness, specifically the sensation of orgasm as likened to death; an orgasm.

--

“It’s just unacceptable.”

The woman in front of you is clearly wealthy. Her dark hair is perfectly styled and her pale nails are perfectly shaped and her subtle makeup is perfectly flattering; she’s starting to get older but rather than shy away from it, she’s leaning into it, and she looks almost imperious in her beauty, eyes sharp and set of her lips severe. Park Dahye was born into wealth and has clearly thrived in the life that she’s been afforded.

“Mmhm.” You try not to yawn. 

“He’s flitting around with some young, silly thing on his arm, with no consideration for the family’s reputation— my reputation,” she continues. Her posture is perfect, from the set of her spine to her crossed legs to her folded hands that rest on her knee, somehow demure and yet highlighting all of her beauty and riches; the jewellery on her wrists and fingers, the expensive heels on her feet, the slit of her haute-couture dress, no doubt tailored for her and her alone. “I’ve already spoken to him about his behaviour, but he’s just ignored my warnings. We may have agreed on the divorce but we’re currently still husband and wife— has he no shame?”

“Awful.” You don’t even try to hide how bored you are, but Dahye is so quietly incensed that she doesn’t even notice as she launches into the next part of her queenly diatribe, and you muffle a sigh.

That’s the problem with rich clients. Sure, they’re willing to fork over stupid amounts of money to you, but they also think that their issues are of paramount significance— like they’re the centre of the universe and their problems are the only important ones in the world. Like you’re interested in what they have to say. Like this is the only job you’ll ever do that holds real weight or meaning.

For them, it’s a life-changing (life-ending) decision. 

For you? It’s another Tuesday.

“Yes, yes, that’s just so terrible, gosh, I don’t know how you manage it,” you say once she pauses to take a breath, using the opportunity to cut her off before she launches into another part of her articulate rant. “Anyway. Would you prefer if his death was embarrassing or quiet?”

For the first time since you’ve met, she seems unsettled. “Pardon?”

Namjoon is much better with people than you, smooth and charming with his boyish dimples. Normally any discussions would go through your handler, but this woman had demanded to meet you personally and had been willing to pay for the privilege: so here you are, with your relative bluntness instead of Joon’s winsome smile.

“You know,” you say, gesturing with your hands. “When they find the body. Do you want him to be caught with his trousers around his ankles—literally or figuratively, that’s up to you— or would you rather it seemed like something natural and unpredictable? Like a sudden heart attack in his sleep, for example.”

When it comes to rich clients, a lot of it is about reputation. When someone’s shuffled off this mortal coil, it’s not just that they’re removed from the equation, it’s also about the ripples that their death leaves in the high society that they’ve lived in. Does she want her (soon-to-be) ex-husband made a mockery of, or does she just want him out of the picture?

She can’t see your face, behind your mask as it is, but you can see hers in perfect clarity. For all that Dahye seems put together and almost impassive, you see the tiny flicker in her eyes. Ah. She’s not just mad because he’s ruining their reputation. She’s hurt.

Man, that sucks. Honestly you bet it’s easier being an assassin than a rich housewife. At least when it comes to backstabbing you can literally involve a knife to sort your problems out. (Well, knives are messy, but you get the picture.)

“I’d prefer something quiet,” she decides. “I’d worry that it could lead back to me, otherwise.”

You’d be offended at the idea that you’d leave any trace that could implicate anyone or that this man’s sudden death was in any way suspicious, but she’s paying you enough that you find that you don’t care. You take pride in your work, but for the amount of zeroes involved in the fee you’re being paid, you think you can take an unintentional insult or two. Or three. Or ten.

You like money, what can you say.

“Sure thing,” you say, giving her a lazy, two fingered salute. You’ve been reclining against the desk of the hotel suite, flicking the complimentary, heavy metal pen between your fingers, twirling it like the world’s most underwhelming baton. You straighten up and let the pen drop back into the pen pot—wait, no, of course it’s a handmade porcelain jar, an alarmingly well-made Joseon porcelain replica. Everything in here stinks of money. “RM will confirm where the money is to be deposited. Half of it now as collateral, and half upon completion of the job,” you say. “If you change your mind between now and then, we’ll be keeping the original 50%, but if for some reason something goes awry, you’ll receive that money back. Sound good?”

She seems surprised at your directness. “I—”

“Fabulous!” You clap your hands together, although the sound is muffled by your gloves. You’re not about to leave your fingerprints everywhere, geez. “Alright, time for me to skidaddle I suppose! I’ve got work to be doing, people to be watching, men to be killing!”

Dahye flinches imperceptibly, but by this point you’ve already slipped out onto the balcony and into the night.

--

Being an assassin is hard work.

Technically, everyone has the capacity to kill another human being. But killing as a job involves a lot more than just caving someone’s head in with a rock—that’s why Cain isn’t referred to as an assassin, what with how he’d just bashed his brother Abel with a convenient stone that happened to be lying nearby. He was just a straight up dick.

No, when you kill professionally you need to be familiar with an array of different techniques, each one far more sophisticated than the last. You need to know how to be stealthy, how to blend in as you watch your target, how to set up the scenes of their death in a way that doesn't arouse suspicion. Or, instead, how to set the scene up in a way that lets any onlookers know that this person had been offed by someone who knew what they were doing, and knew it well. There's a difference between being a killer and being an assassin and you are firmly in the latter category.

So, if your client wants her husband to be shuffled off quietly, then that’s what she’ll get.

They really have pulled out all the stops for this charity gala. Everything is shining, glittering and bright: the surroundings, the food, the people. Especially the people. The rich elite have come together for an extravagant and exquisite night of ostentation and luxury, all in the name of raising money for some needy cause. (You try not to think of the irony and/or hypocrisy behind that.)

It’s almost laughable how easy it is to blend in here. Namjoon had secured (forged) invitations for you both, and so you hang off his arm as you make a slow sweep of the room, trailing unnoticed after your target. You’re not planning to make a move right now but you want to feel out exactly what he’s like: the more information you have about the person you’ve been contracted to assassinate, the better. 

Plus it’s an excuse to dress up nice and eat free food— though that last part is mainly Namjoon.

“God, these canapés are so good,” Namjoon moans quietly to you, hoovering up the flaky pastry crumbs from his fingers with single-minded intent. You dig your fingers subtly into his arm.

“I thought we agreed on not eating tonight, Joon,” you mutter to him, although you say it with a beatific smile in case anyone is watching; the place is heaving with people but you’re always on guard. (Even if Namjoon is right. The hors d’oeuvres that are on offer do look incredibly tempting.)

“You have a glass of champagne,” he points out.

“And you may have noticed that I haven’t drunk any of it.” You titter, as if he’s just told a funny joke, and lightly slap his arm. Again, you’re fairly certain no one is watching, but you can never be too careful. “It’s all about creating a facade, Joonie. It’s what we in the business call a ruse.”

Even throughout your back and forth, you’ve kept your eyes on your man of the night: Park Minjae, a middle-aged businessman who’s been greeting people and getting swept up in conversation, all while a slip of a blonde clings to his arm, stuck to his side like a pretty limpet. She’s cute, sure, but she lacks the poise that Dahye has, so you frankly don’t get it. Then again, not everyone finds strong women as attractive as you do. Weirdos.

You’ve been focused on Minjae but your eyes have also been flitting around the room, drinking in your surroundings, drawing up a detailed map of your environment (of course you’d scoped out the building before tonight, but with all the banquet tables and chairs around the layout is a little different). The people, too, have been subject to your scrutiny, although so far they all seem summarily unimportant and uninteresting, just as you’d suspected. You lift your glass to your lips and pretend to take a tiny, demure sip, glancing up through your eyelashes to scan the room again, and you freeze.

Holy shit.

You take back what you just said about everyone being unimportant and uninteresting. 

The woman who’s just walked in is fucking stunning. Her sleek dark bob is unstyled, but perfectly frames her beautiful face: sharp eyes, soft nose, flushed lips. Her cocktail dress lets you see almost every inch of those perfect legs, the line of her thighs to her calves and— oh, you swear you could shed a tear of joy. She’s already tall and she’s made even taller by the heels she wears, towering above most of the men here, a fucking Amazonian goddess who looks powerful and undeniably elegant at the same time. 

(Thank you for your service, tall women.)

You don’t know who she is, but goddamn, do you want to. She’s scanning the room, and for a brief moment, your eyes touch. A tiny thrill shudders up your spine at the darkness of her keen eyes, that quick and astute gaze. 

It’s only the tiniest of moments that’s over as soon as it’s started. The dark-haired beauty looks away and is already disappearing into the crowd before you realise, and it’s only then you notice that you’re staring, utterly drawn in by her cool poise and presence. You’ve been frozen in place with the rim of your champagne  glass resting against your mouth, and your eyelashes flutter as you blink and glance down.

The imprint of your lower lip has been left on the glass, stark red visible against its edge, and you squeeze Namjoon’s bicep.

“How does my lipstick look?”

He takes one look at you as he swallows down another tiny vol-au-vent. “Like half of it is missing,” he says, and you frown.

“Ugh. I’ll go touch it up in the bathroom. Keep an eye on our guy, I’ll be right back.”

It’s not until you’ve made it to the toilets that you realise that you do not, in fact, have any lipstick in your ridiculously small clutch bag. When it comes to your actual work, you’re meticulous and thorough and well-planned, but for some bizarre reason, a tube of lipstick is never the top of the list when it comes to equipment. Unbelievable. (You knew you should have worn the 24/7 stuff, but it was always such a nightmare to get off.)

You’ve been so busy rummaging through your bag that you’re completely caught off-guard at the sound of a quiet voice from behind you.

“Lost something?”

Oh, fuck. It’s her, your dark haired and dark eyed beauty, meeting your gaze through the mirror when you glance up from where you’re resting your bag against the marble counter  (marble, marble, marble, it’s all marble: the floors, the counters, the sinks; why do rich people always love marble?). She looks altogether too amused at your plight and at how your eyes have widened perceptibly upon seeing her again. But can she blame you? Her presence is so graceful and commanding and she’s so dizzyingly attractive it’s insane. Surely she must get this all the time.

You stare for a little longer than is probably polite, and even behind her fringe you can see how one of her eyebrows rises.

“Sorry for staring,” you say once you notice. “You’re just so beautiful.”

She pauses as she takes in the compliment. You see how her eyes flicker over your face and settle on your mouth; your upper lip, tinted burgundy red, while the lower is faint and smudged.

“Lipstick problems?” She cocks her head at you, still staring at your lips in the mirror. God, she’s so hot.

“Can you tell?” You sound rueful as you glance down at the reflection of your mouth, touching your bottom lip lightly with a fingertip. “I forgot to bring any with me so now I’m stuck.”

She finally looks away from you. You hear a small, metallic click as she unclasps her evening bag— marginally larger than your own— and lifts out a small tube of liquid lipstick. “Would you like to use mine?”

Fuck yes you would. 

“Oh, would that be alright?” You finally turn around, and you have to tilt your head back to look at her, taller than you in her heels. Jesus Christ. She’s going to be the death of you. Why are women so gorgeous? Who gave them the right? “I’m not sure the shade will match, though?”

You watch her beautiful mouth curve up into a small smirk as she pulls out a tiny pack of makeup remover wipes from her bag, and you swear could propose to her there and then. Beautiful and tall and organised? Holy shit. What a woman.

She’s got her bag in one hand, while the lipstick and wipes are clasped in the other; her hand is held up in such a way that you think she means for you to take them from her, but when you reach out she shakes her head.

“I’ll do it for you,” she says. The quiet note of authority in her tone makes you go weak at the knees.

Thank god the toilets you chose aren’t the main ones, because it means there’s no one around to see how she tilts her head at the marble counter in the universal gesture of get on there. It’s entirely unnecessary, but you, of course, immediately comply. You brace your hands against the cold stone before hitching yourself up, careful with the draping folds of your dress; the cold touch of the stone is noticeable through the material of your dress, but it’s instantly forgotten when your enchantress steps closer. 

You spread your knees so she can stand between them. Holy shit, she’s even better up close. Her lashes are wispy but they’re the perfect frame for her gorgeous eyes, which are dark and intent. You suppress a shiver. You hold yourself still as she leans forward and around you so she can put her clutch and lipstick down, trying to ignore how close she is, but there’s no way she can’t realise what she’s doing. Your heart is pounding. You wish you didn’t have a job to do tonight because you would so much rather be getting, ah, acquainted with this woman rather than following some old businessman around.

The only noise in the bathroom is the sound of peeling plastic as she opens the tiny packet of wet wipes before she curls one around her finger, glancing at you through her lashes.

“Open,” she instructs.

Your mouth drops open immediately. She sweeps the wipe over your lips, bottom, then top, touch firm but careful, drawing away the red from your skin; you stare at her as she works, how her eyes are cast down as she stares at your mouth. She’s using her free hand to grip your chin and you feel deliciously powerless in her grasp. 

You purse your lips a little to try and help her, watching the way her eyes flicker as she pulls the wipe back over them— somewhat firmer, this time, with more intent. Lingering. The only barrier between her finger and your mouth is soft and flimsy, the texture of the wipe against your lips like cotton as it drags across them, and it would be so easy to pull it out of her hands.

She flicks the dirtied wipe aside, heedless of how it lands on the unsullied marble, before reaching for her lipstick. She twists the tube in her fingers, motions of her hands precise and deft, and you’ve never been so attracted to how someone’s uncapped something before. 

You watch her hands. (She watches you.)

Your eyes trail over the wand as she pulls it out, dragging the doe foot against the rim to catch the excess before turning it towards you, putting the tube by your thigh, near where your hand is bracing against the marble. She takes hold of your chin once again. You stay quiet as she starts to sweep the lipstick over your lips, painting them the same flushed pink as her own. Once again she’s staring at her work so you’re free to drink her in, almost drunk from her beauty, eyes catching on the tiny moles on her pale skin, the smallest freckles that are only noticeable because you’re this close.

The squelch of the applicator sliding into the tube is almost lewd in the silence of the bathroom, and this time you can’t suppress a shiver when she pulls your chin down to open your mouth so she can go back in again on your lips, drawing a sharp, crisp line. Tracing the edges of your lips, the flushed swell of them, the peak of your cupid’s bow.

She glances up. For a moment you’re both still, staring at each other, tension in the air palpable, but then she smacks her lips and you copy the motion, evening the application of the makeup on your mouth. 

“Perfect,” she murmurs. “One more step.”

A small, confused frown flits over your face. She’s put the lipstick aside but then she lifts a finger and points towards your still parted lips. You take in a small, shuddering breath when she speaks again and you realise what she means.

“You don’t want to get lipstick on your teeth, do you?”

Both of her eyebrows have risen and she’s looking at you like you’re being silly if you disagree with her.

“No,” you say. You’re not about to deny her. “No, I don’t.”

Your eyes remain locked. You lean forwards, taking that perfect, long finger into your mouth, dragging your lips upwards so that any excess lipstick is caught against her pale skin, a ring of deep rose circling her bottom knuckle; you curl your tongue around her, hot and wet, feeling the crease of her knuckles and pad of her fingertip against your taste buds as you slowly, slowly pull away. 

It’s undoubtedly indecent and risqué and you can feel the flush of arousal settling in your lower belly, an almost embarrassing flush of wetness leaking out of you at the taste of her skin. She, however, remains unmoved, although she lets her finger linger just for a moment on your bottom lip, almost rough against their softness— but before you can swallow those fingers back down and ruin her meticulous work, she pulls away, lifting the discarded wipe to sweep it around her finger, catching the lipstick you’d left on her skin.

“Done.”

She steps back and you feel like you can finally breathe, a breath so deep you can feel how your lungs fill, oxygen rushing to your brain so fast you feel lightheaded. You watch as she sweeps everything back into her bag, clicking it shut with a note of finality; the sullied wipe is cast carelessly into a tiny, chrome bin with a flick of a wrist, her every motion regal.

You slide off the counter. You still can’t take your eyes off her and you don’t want to. It feels like whatever heaviness was in the air has dissipated, gone in an instant with a turn of her head— normally you’d let it slide, even if you feel disappointed, but she’s just so magnetic. 

“Thank you,” you say. You can see yourself in the mirror now and to your complete lack of surprise, your lipstick is perfect. The shade is lighter than one you’d have chosen for yourself but it’s beautiful on her, of course.

“You’re welcome.” She’s in the middle of washing her hands, but she glances over her shoulder at you, and the firm set to her face lightens a little as she smiles. It’s a small, sly thing, and you realise with a start that she knows exactly what effect she has on you.

I’m coming back for you, you think to yourself. You have work to do tonight, but—

“What’s your name?”

She pauses. She shuts off the tap with a quick motion, reaching forward for a rolled hand-towel, a neat stack on a metal tray nearby. You wonder if she’s not going to answer but then she speaks, looking at you instead of the soft cotton she’s rubbing over her skin. “Yoonji,” she says. “I’m Min Yoonji.”

Min Yoonji is the most gorgeous fucking woman you’ve ever seen.

“I love your dress, Yoonji,” you say, and it’s true, you really do— but you’d prefer it if it was off. Not that you’re about to say that, of course.

She lets out a breath of laughter. “I know.” Oh, god, you love confident women. “What’s your name, darling?”

You have that same split second of hesitation, similar to Yoonji’s only moments prior. You use a codename when you work, of course, and you have a plethora of fake identities that you use and are intimately familiar with— but the idea of your real name falling off Yoonji’s flushed, petal lips? Woof.

“Y/n L/n,” you say. 

Oh, Joon would be so unimpressed right now, giving some mysterious woman your full, real name just because you think she’s the sexiest thing since sex, but whatever. What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

“Well, Y/n,” Yoonji says. You were right, your name sounds so good falling from her mouth, the mouth that’s turned into a small, almost smug smile. “I certainly hope to see you at the charity ball in a few weeks?”

“Of course.” Your schedule has been magically cleared and you’ll definitely be in attendance for whatever ball Yoonji is referring to, even if you have no idea what it is. You only come to these things if you have to for work but for Yoonji you’ll make an exception. You’ll make a hundred thousand exceptions. A hundred thousand quinquagintaquadringentillion exceptions. “I’ll make sure to remember my lipstick next time.”

And there it is, the thing that seals the deal, the final nail in the coffin: Yoonji glancing at you out of the corner of her eyes, a sharp, dark touch that shoots through you as her smile edges into hunger.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “I’m sure it won’t stay on your lips long enough to matter.”

--

The thing you’ve discovered about Minjae is that, with his divorce due to be finalised soon, he’s apparently lost any sense of routine and is revelling in his new found freedom, which is kind of irritating when you’re trying to tail the guy. Sure, you’re still going to take him out, but you prefer it when targets have some sort of schedule that they adhere to— makes it easier to set up a kill.

“You’re certain that he’s going to be here tonight?” You’d been sceptical considering how the guy’s apparently thrown his schedule out of the window, but Namjoon had been certain.

“Positive.” He’d said. “He’s there every Tuesday night. You’ll have plenty of time.”

The house appears to be deserted. The driveway is empty and all the windows and doors are locked tight. It’s just one of the properties that the Parks own in the city, and for all its size and lushness it appears as though this one is rarely frequented; you imagine that the cleaners and gardeners spend more time here than the owners themselves.

It doesn’t take you long to evade the watchful eyes of security cameras to pick a lock and slip inside. You're grateful for the dying evening light that helps cover your tracks from any onlookers from the street, although you imagine the high walls do good work at preventing people from seeing into the grounds anyway.

There’s still enough light to navigate through the house, the golden tinged sunset casting warm shadows across the spotless furniture and fixtures; you take a moment to let your eyes slide across a huge canvas hanging on a wall that spans two storeys, some impressionist piece that’s surprisingly ugly for all the talent that’s obvious in its brushstrokes. Maybe that’s why the Parks are never here? You’d certainly try to avoid seeing this thing if you could. Eurgh.

Even though the building is empty, you’re careful as you start to make your way forwards. You always place your toes down first whenever you take a step, soundless as you start to map the house out in your mind; there are so many rooms you can hide in, but you’d prefer to be close to wherever Minjae ends up. Saves faffing around later. 

You’ll overpower him, inject the toxin into his blood and wait for him to die before setting him up on the toilet— it’s surprisingly common for people to die while on the shitter, the strain leading to an untimely heart attack, especially in older people. The poison you’re using tonight will mimic the symptoms of a heart attack in the case the coroner decides a post-mortem needs to be undertaken.

(Being found on the bog might not be a particularly graceful way to die but when you’re dead it’s kind of hard to be embarrassed.)

You’ve eased the door open into a large bedroom, and you’re just inspecting if it looks like this room sees more use than the others when you pause. It’s deathly silent in this building, the air still minus where you glide through it as you move, but there’s a feeling in your gut, some instinct that makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You freeze, ears straining to catch any noise to let you know if there’s someone else here, when—

There. In the reflection of a burnished pot, the tiniest shifting movement.

You react almost faster than the eye can see. You spin to parry a hit that was aimed for your head, and the strength behind it shudders through your arms. You only have a second to take in the details of your assailant— dressed in dark clothing, masquerade style mask in place, a professional just like you— before you’re deflecting another flurry of blows, flipping backwards out of reach before spinning into a kick, hooking that burnished pot with your foot and sending it flying towards the other assassin.

They dodge it. You both ignore the sound of clattering metal as you lunge forwards, trying to catch them off guard after their sidestep— your fist makes contact with their palm instead of their face, your hand engulfed in theirs, and you startle at their speed. You might not be the strongest but you’re damn fast. 

There’s a pause, and you can only see a slither of their eyes through the sockets of their mask, but you can tell that they’re impressed. And honestly? So are you. 

The moment shatters when they use the hand they're holding to twist you, locking an arm around your neck and putting you into a chokehold; they’re strong, stronger than you, cutting off your airflow. You need to get out of this before you fall unconscious, but if they’re trained as well as you then they’ll know how to combat the usual ways you’d use to get out of this.

So, in a demonstration of your flexibility you kick a leg up, using the strength of your thighs and calves to slam it into the arm that’s around your neck. Your assailant lets out a noise of surprise and pain as you slip out of their hold and cartwheel across the room before spinning to face them.

There’s a beat. The air is tense. You get another chance to take in the details of whoever’s just tried to choke you out; you stare at her as she stares at you, the two of you poised and ready to strike, watching and waiting. 

Knives might be messy but of course you’re not unarmed. You have multiple sheathed weapons in your clothes, though you don’t make a move to draw any of them. Yet. “I suppose you wouldn’t tell me who your employer is, would you?”

Your opponent tilts her head. “You don’t know?” She sounds amused, even through her mask. “Minjae took out a contract on the assassin who has a contract on him.”

Your lip curls back from your teeth. The only way Minjae would have heard about your contract is if Dahye had told him. Presumably to try and shock him out of his behaviour, or something, who knows. “This is the last time I’m accepting a job from these rich old farts,” you mutter. 

“That’s for certain,” she says. 

She starts to move and you catch her arm just as she goes to unsheathe a wicked looking blade, knocking it aside before she overpowers you and you start to wrestle. It’s messy and graceless but sometimes you just have to fight dirty. 

Whoever this woman is, she still has the upper hand because she was expecting you and you weren’t expecting her; she knocks you onto the bed and pins you down, swooping the knife up from where it had been thrown onto the mattress. You go utterly still as she holds it against your throat, towering over your from where she’s straddling your waist and kneeling on your arms. Any sudden movement from you now could lead to your untimely demise— and, unsurprisingly, you absolutely want to avoid that at all costs.

Namjoon would never let you live it down if you were killed on the job.

You hum. “It seems like we’ve reached an impasse.”

She doesn’t respond. The knife doesn’t dip any lower, though; you’re undoubtedly at her mercy but you notice she’s careful to keep the knife still, hovering above the skin of your neck, but not making contact.

“Well,” you continue. “At least I’m going out the way I’d always hoped to.”

Even in the dying light and with how her face is covered, you notice her face shifting behind her mask— a silent, questioning raise of an eyebrow. You give her a cheeky smile that crinkles your eyes.

“In bed with a beautiful woman, of course.”

At this she huffs out a laugh. “Do you flirt with every person who tries to kill you?”

You’re trying to look as non-threatening as possible to keep that knife away from your jugular. The longer you talk, the longer you live, even if you can’t see a way to get out of this situation right now. “Only the pretty ones.”

The small laugh she lets out this time seems more like a scoff. “You don’t even know what I look like.”

“Please.” You roll your eyes. “Any woman who can fight like you and knows how to handle a knife? Automatically hot. I don’t need to see your face to know that.”

The knife still hasn’t moved. She continues to stare you down and you go tense when her free hand moves. She tugs the cloth of your mask down to reveal your face, the air of the room almost cold against the suddenly bared skin, your breaths free to curl out unhindered.

“Usually I like to be taken out to dinner at least once before we get this intimate, but for you I suppose I’ll make an exception.” You’re still grinning cheekily at her, but your mind continues to race as you try to think of a way to get out of this, especially now that she’s seen what you look like—but you suddenly notice that she’s gone very, very still.

“Y/n?”

The grin freezes on your face. Oh, you’re so boned. You’re so very boned. Like, yeah, you’ve been seconds away from death for the past, hmm, five minutes, but this is somehow worse. How the fuck does she know your name?

You’re given the answer almost immediately. She withdraws the hand from your chin and reaches for her own mask. Your eyes widen and your breath stutters in your throat once you see who it is.

“Holy shit,” you breathe.

Yoonji is staring down at you. She’s every inch as imperious and stunning as the last time you’d seen her— hell, even moreso now that you’ve seen what she’s capable of. No wonder you hadn’t been able to find out anything about her after you’d met at that garish charity gala. Because she’s untraceable, just like you.

“Well.” You stare back at her, not even attempting to keep the surprise off your face. “If anyone has to kill me at least I can die satisfied in the knowledge that it was you. Can I make a request? I’d be eternally grateful if you smothered me to death with your thighs. Just a suggestion, feel free to ignore it if you want.”

Yoonji cocks her head. Her bob is tied back, but there’s a loose lock of hair curled by the side of her face that shifts at the motion. Your fingers twitch. If she wasn’t kneeling on your arms you know you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from tucking it behind her ear. Any excuse to touch her. “Do you always talk so much?”

“Hey, if it means I get to feel your legs around my face before I die, I’ll give a full fledged TED talk,” you say. “I have to admit, though. When I pictured us in bed together I didn’t think it would be like this.”

The knife still hasn’t moved from your throat. She continues to stare, as if considering what to do next, though her face remains impassive. “What did you think it would be like?”

“Well, you know. Less knives and clothes involved and a lot more making out,” you answer. “You, telling me what to do. Me, entirely at your command. Anything the lady wants, she gets.”

The human body is a fickle and strange beast. Ever since you discovered who’s straddling you, you’ve been growing wetter and wetter, even if you’re trying not to let on that you’re steadily growing more aroused— you’re still distinctly aware of the knife that’s only centimetres away from your skin, but somehow your body is more focused of the fact that the woman you’ve been daydreaming about is finally in front of you again. 

(Well, less in front of you and more on top of you, which is an admittedly preferable option, sans the knife involvement.)

You see how Yoonji’s eyes are darting over your face. No doubt taking in how your pupils are dilated, how your breaths are a little shallower, quicker— signs of fear and signs of arousal are surprisingly similar. You wonder if she can identify which it is. Probably. You’re not exactly very subtle in your attraction to her.

“I forgot my lipstick again,” you add, and Yoonji’s passive mask finally breaks when she rolls her eyes.

“Didn’t I say you wouldn’t need it?”

Even the way she throws the knife aside is gorgeous. The sharp undulation of her wrist as she sends the blade skittering across the polished wood floor is careless and fluid. Her hands cup your face as she bends down, and you send up a mental thanks to any god or higher being who might be listening before Yoonji presses her lips to your and your brain goes blank.

Apparently Yoonji likes it messy. One of her hands is grasping your chin in a mockery of the last time you’d met and she’d painted your lips— your mouth is open and she licks past your lips as you shudder beneath her. She’s still got her knees pressed into your arms, pinning you down, but you desperately crane your head towards her, chasing that kiss; you tilt your head to deepen it, and the whine that leaves you when she pulls away is almost embarrassing.

The sun has finally dipped below the horizon and the room is dark, painted in shades of grey and deep blue. You wish you could see Yoonji properly and you can’t help but wriggle a little underneath her, but then you watch her raise her hands and clap three times in rapid succession before the room floods with dim light. Sound activated lights? Damn.

Yoonji’s mouth shines, covered in a sheen of your mixed saliva, her pretty lips flushed rose pink; even without makeup they’re beautiful and their colour is deep, the blooming petals of a flower. Your eyes trail over her face, down her neck, over the fall of her chest and stomach— you’re both far too covered up in these stupid ensembles of yours and you want to strip the clothes off her. You want to see every inch of her beautiful, majestic body, bared for your lips and hands.

Fuck, she’s so gorgeous.

“Not to, um, ruin the moment, but my hands are going numb.” The weight of Yoonji’s body being pressed into your arms has pretty much cut off the blood flow to your fingers and you can feel the telltale sensation of pins and needles spreading through your skin. “Can I have those back, please?”

Yoonji lifts her knees just enough for you to slide your arms out from underneath them. You immediately shed your gloves and go to grab her ass but she gives you a sharp look and you freeze, slowly settling them on her thighs instead, which she allows with only the slightest raise of her eyebrows.

“Watch,” she commands, and who are you to disobey?

She reaches for the tie in her hair, tugging it out and letting her dark locks fall to frame her lovely, beautiful face. You hungrily swallow down each sight that she feeds to you, the skin that’s revealed as she shrugs off her layers of clothing. She unbuckles the weapons hidden underneath her clothes as she sheds them; she’s a veritable arsenal of firearms and knives, all cast carelessly aside until her upper body is finally, blessedly naked. You’ve been staring at her the whole time, the graceful column of her throat, the delicate lines of her collarbones, and your gaze falls to her breasts, small and perfect, nipples dusty pink and hard. You want to put your mouth on them.

“Holy shit, you’re perfect,” you say.

She smirks. You watch as she rolls her body, lifting up from her knees and standing up, towering above you on the bed—your hands fall to the mattress as she pulls her trousers down, tight material dragging against her skin as she slides it over the curve of her hips and down her long legs. There’s a dagger strapped to her thigh, which she unbuckles and lets fall to one side, but god, if she used it to kill you right now, you would die a happy woman. The image of Min Yoonji towering above you in nothing more than some flimsy underwear is one you want to take to the grave.

You can see how the material around her entrance is darkened with her arousal, and you feel your own body react to the sight, pussy throbbing, your own lower lips slick underneath all your layers of clothing. Yoonji hooks her thumbs into her panties and pushes them down, and you’re enraptured as you watch how the wetness clings to them, before that last bit of clothing is cast aside too. 

You moan, unable to stop the sound bubbling up in your throat. From how she’s standing above you, legs spread from how her feet are either side of your hips, you can see everything—how her cunt is flushed, how wet she is, her folds shining. You bet she tastes so fucking good.

You let your mouth fall open, tongue lolling out in a way that’s obscene. You see Yoonji’s eyes flicker as she traces the motion, the way she takes in your expression: wide, hungry eyes, parted lips, wet tongue. Your hands skim up the back of her calves as she shifts forwards and returns to her knees, her naked core so, so close to your mouth, and you dig your fingers into her skin.

“Bon appé-fucking-tit,” you murmur, and then you pull her onto your face.

Yoonji gasps. 

(You were right. She tastes so, so fucking good.)

You’re utterly shameless as you slurp up her juices, the wetness that continues to leak out of her as you bury your face into her cunt, tongue lapping over her entrance as your nose brushes her clit. Your hands have moved to the flesh of her ass and you encourage her to grind against you, rolling her hips towards your greedy mouth; you’re staring up at her, drinking down her reactions, the way her face twists with pleasure and the shuddering breaths she takes in, perfect little breasts jumping at the motion. There’s a flush spreading down her neck and chest, pale skin blushing pink, and it’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen.

You purse your lips against her clit, circling it with your tongue before dipping back down between her folds. Each time you breathe in all you can smell is her scent, heavy and dark, all your senses filled with Yoonji, Yoonji, Yoonji. When you hum against her, Yoonji arches her spine and throws her head back, so when you press your tongue into her you hum again, letting the vibrations shiver through her.

“Yes,” she gasps, rutting against your face. “Yes, yes—”

Her thighs tighten around your head. You redouble your efforts, watching her face as you continue to swipe your tongue up her slit and through her folds; you wish you could swallow each of the noises that are falling from her lips as she reaches the crest of her pleasure, the little gasps and moans each time you move your tongue in a particularly wicked way.

“There,” she says. “There, there, just like that—”

Your jaw aches but you don’t even register it, too intent on keeping your mouth open and hot and wet against her. It only takes a few more swipes and flicks of your tongue before she shudders violently, canting her hips towards your mouth as her legs go tense and she cums. She continues to straddle your face as she rides out the waves of pleasure, and you swallow down the wetness that flushes out of her rippling cunt, ignoring the throbbing between your own legs.

You can’t talk, muffled by her as you are, but your mind is singing. Look at you, you think. Look at how gorgeous you are. God, I could eat you out all day. (What a blessed life that would be.)

You can tell when Yoonji’s edged into oversensitivity, jolting when your tongue sweeps over her swollen clit; she settles back, knees spread as she rests against your heaving chest, legs tensing each time an aftershock shivers through her. Your mouth is open as you pant in air, but she watches as you swipe your tongue over your lips, catching the lingering taste of her on you, your chin opalescent with her arousal.

“Okay,” you say, breathless. “I’ve done everything that’s worth doing. I’ve peaked. Everything is downhill from here. You can kill me now.”

You’re only half joking, but your thighs instinctively go tight to rub against each other when you see how Yoonji’s eyes darken.

“I’m not done with you yet,” she purrs.

Yoonji might be naked while you’re still clothed, and so still armed, but she’s undoubtedly the one who’s in control right now. You are so, so okay with that. You watch with wide eyes as she shifts back, her hands grabbing the material of your jacket to tug you upwards, but before she can strip off your clothes you capture her lips with your own.

The taste of her is still heady and deep in your mouth and you nip at her bottom lip before pressing your tongue forwards. The kiss is already slick from Yoonji’s wetness and when you pull away, there’s a thin string of saliva that connects you for a moment before it breaks, which Yoonji wipes away from your chin with the pad of her thumb.

“Dirty girl,” she says, and you bite back a moan at the unabashed lust in her voice. Her grip on your chin is firm. “Did I say you could kiss me?”

“No,” you answer. “I couldn’t help myself.”

She tuts, as if disappointed, and every one of your nerve endings feels electrified, ready and anticipating whatever Yoonji is going to do next. “Such a shame,” she says. “You just can’t keep your hands or mouth to yourself, can you?”

“Can you blame me?”

Yoonji huffs out a laugh through her nose. She strips your jacket off in one sharp motion and then your shirt is similarly pulled off with single-minded intent, along with every other piece of equipment cinched to your arms and body. When you reach for her, though, she captures your wrists, her face stern.

“If you keep moving without permission, I’m going to take that privilege away from you.”

You don’t have to see your own eyes to know how your pupils will have dilated from that statement, blood thrumming through your veins, and you can tell Yoonji has noticed when her expression shifts.

“Oh.” A small, triumphant smirk appears on her face. “I see.”

You lift your arms up so she can pull your sports bra off (of course if you had known you’d been running into Yoonji again you would have worn something nicer). Rather than touch your heaving chest, however, she pushes you down onto the mattress, a hand around your wrists so they’re held above your head.

“Keep still,” she says.

She reaches for the holster that you’d had around your upper arm, lazily casting the knife aside before looping it around your wrists and pulling it secure.

Yoonji’s fingers ease under the nylon as she checks the fit. It’s tight, but not so much so that it’s painful or dangerous, and there’s a hushed moment when the realisation hits you— Yoonji and yourself are both skilled enough to know that you could easily free yourself if you wanted to. It would only take a little motion of your wrists and hands and you could slip them out of the makeshift cuffs in an instant.

You melt into the mattress. Yoonji’s eyes shift away from your wrists as she takes in the way you’ve gone utterly relaxed and limp below her, staring back at her. You see an expression flit across her face faster than you can see, before she slides down your body so she can push your legs apart.

You lift your hips to help her strip your trousers off. Her hand lingers on the concealed holster around your thigh, eyeing the small pistol nestled inside it, before that too is stripped off and cast aside. Her hands trail over the soft skin of your hips and stomach, eyes skimming over the bared length of your body before settling between your legs, the slickness of your inner thighs.

“You got this wet just from eating me out?” Her pretty mouth is curled into an expression that’s almost mocking, and your legs jolt as she runs her fingers lightly over your lower lips before rubbing her fingertips together to feel the wetness she’s gathered. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Your nails dig into your palms as your hands twist against each other and you shift your legs further apart. “Please, Yoonji,” you plead, shameless from desperation and arousal.

She laughs at your obvious hunger. “I suppose I should return the favour, shouldn’t I?”

You watch breathlessly as she lifts her fingers to her lips, swallowing them into her mouth to get them slick and wet. The motions of her tongue are languid as she licks across her fingers. You’re like a livewire, thrumming with electricity, and the sensation of her finally sinking one of those fingers into you sends sparks throughout your body.

Yoonji’s maddeningly slow. Your body takes her readily, her long finger gliding easily in and out of you, but she makes no move to speed up; you let out a small noise and she moves upwards to kiss you, as if indulging you, and you’ve just relaxed against her mouth when she plunges a second finger in.

She swallows your gasp as her fingers speed up, before she starts to kiss across your jaw, your neck, between the valley of your breasts and then closing her mouth over one of your nipples— she times the flick of her tongue with the thrust of her fingers, and then you feel how she takes her thumb to press your clit at the same time and you’re gone, falling over the edge faster than you’d expected. Your orgasm is fast but deep, your walls clenching tight around the fingers that continue to curl in and out of you, but she doesn’t stop.

“Yoonji,” you gasp. “It’s too— oh—”

Those two fingers continue to rub your sweet spot as you edge into oversensitivity but Yoonji doesn’t let up. She continues to lick and bite at the skin of your chest, putting her mouth to your other breast and circling the hardened bud of your nipple with her tongue before kissing down your stomach, your pubic bone, and then pressing her lips to your swollen clit.

You whimper. Her pace of her fingers has quickened, and she curls them each time she almost pulls them out, the squelch of their motions obscene as they slide through the cum of your first orgasm. She stares up at you, lapping at your clit with her tongue, and you can feel the saliva that’s dripping from her mouth and over your flushed core, every inch of you oversensitive but screaming with pleasure.

It’s almost painful, but you can feel an orgasm creeping through that ache; you wring your hands together and sob as Yoonji continues to finger fuck you without mercy, her pace almost bruising, the thrust of her knuckles against you each time she bottoms out just one more layer on top of that overwhelming pleasure.

“Yoonji,” you gasp. “I’m g-gonna cum again.”

She hums against you, and you make an incoherent noise at the feeling of that sound against your clit, almost too much— and then she presses one more finger into you, and that’s it, that slight burn and stretch sending you hurtling over that edge again. When you cum, your hips buck and you gasp, air rushing into your lungs before it escapes you in a moan of ecstasy; the only sensations registering in your mind right now are the ripples of pleasure spreading through your cunt as Yoonji pulls her fingers out of you, pressing down on your clit in a way that’s almost cruel, and you sob as your legs instinctively try to tighten but are prevented from doing so by Yoonji’s unyielding presence.

She’s staring down at you as you start to go lax, and you think she’s finished with you, but you watch with widening eyes as she takes her ring and middle finger to run them through your sodden folds. You sob again when those fingers plunge back into you, palm pressing against your clit each time she curls her fingers, and you squirm underneath her.

“Yoonji, it’s too much,” you cry.

“One more.” Yoonji’s leaning back and staring at you, taking in the sweat that’s beading across your skin, the tears that are gathering in your eyes and threatening to spill down your face and into your hair. “You’re doing so well, darling, you can give me one more, can’t you?”

Your reply is incoherent, a small noise that shudders out of the back of your throat. You’ve never been thrown so thoroughly into pleasure like this, overstimulated and aching, but there’s that flicker of pleasure still between your legs, growing each time Yoonji beckons with her fingers, curling over your abused sweet spot again and again and again.

“Just say the word and I’ll stop,” Yoonji says, the wet plunge of her fingers into your abused pussy so messy and loud but not enough to drown her out. “One word and I’ll stop.”

You don’t say anything. You just let your eyes roll back into your head as you cant your hips towards her, trying to latch onto that thread of pleasure that’s thrumming through you below all your screaming nerves, and the noise Yoonji makes is pleased.

“There we go,” she praises. “Look at you, so good for me. Pretty darling.”

You can feel how your pussy clenches around Yoonji’s fingers, how the coil in you is squeezing tighter and tighter, how another orgasm is somehow creeping up on you— you tilt your hips towards that feeling, towards Yoonji’s hand, and then she’s pulling her fingers out of you in an almost rough motion and you’re cumming harder than you ever have before.

“Oh, fuck!” You sob. 

It’s indescribable. The sensation rips through you as your back arches off the bed and you’re cumming and squirting and gasping and you can feel the wetness that slicks out of you, your toes curling as your brain goes blank from the staggering pleasure and static consumes every one of your senses. Your entire body feels like nothing more than a vessel for the ecstasy that’s shooting through your veins, spreading out from your core and to every corner of your insides and limbs.

It takes you a while to come back around, aftershocks wracking through your body. You feel sluggish and slow as your mind slowly clears, focusing on the sensation of warm hands stroking over the skin of your stomach and hips and thighs; your eyes flutter open and when you glance down you can see the shine to Yoonji’s skin, evidence of your pleasure painting her in a thin sheen of liquid.

“Oh my god,” you moan. “Holy shit.”

She smiles. “You were so, so good for me,” she says. She leans down to press a light kiss to collarbones and you shiver. “So beautiful. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve died and gone to heaven before coming back again,” you reply. “Oh, that was so good, Yoonji. I’ve never squirted before. I didn’t realise I could. God.”

Yoonji laughs lightly. You can’t help but watch the way it transforms her face, the way her chest jumps at the motion, every inch of her gorgeous and majestic and cute and pretty. “You did so, so well,” she praises, before she kisses you, her mouth so soft; you barely notice the sudden easing of pressure around your wrists as she releases you, more intent on the sensation of her soft petal lips against your own.

You stare up at her as she pulls away. Powerful, amazing Min Yoonji, kneeling between your legs, naked but not helpless. Definitely less vulnerable than you right now. And yet she’s still making no moves to grab one of the many weapons littered around the bed so she can finally finish her contract by completing the kill. It would be so easy for her.

The silence of the room is suddenly broken by a tiny buzzing noise. You both glance over at the sound, one that Yoonji doesn’t recognise but you do— the communicator in one of your wristbands, the one you use to keep in contact with Namjoon.

You watch the twisting of Yoonji’s body as she leans over the bed to hook the band with a finger before proffering it to you. You pause, but then grasp her wrist and lightly pull so she ends up pressed against you, softness of her breasts against your own, and you hold the communicator between your faces as you accept the call.

“Thank god you answered.” Namjoon’s voice is obviously frantic even through the tinniness of the small speaker. “Dahye cancelled the contract because Minjae wants to reconcile with her, but apparently he’s already put a hit out on you— tonight was a ruse, Minjae isn’t going to be there, you have to get out of there—”

“Bit too late for that,” you interrupt. Yoonji’s hair is tickling your cheek. “Don’t worry. I have it in hand. Send some flowers to Minjae for me, will you?”

“Flowers?” Namjoon sounds understandably confused. “Why?”

“As a thank you for taking out a contract on me,” you say. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m a little busy.”

“With what?”

“With me,” Yoonji says, and you hear Namjoon’s surprised intake of breath before you cut the line.

You end up laughing to yourself. “Oh, he’s going to hate me for that,” you giggle. Yoonji’s hand trails up your stomach and you continue to giggle at the ticklish sensation. Her skin is still slick against yours, and you suddenly realise how cold it is in the room, the air touching the cooling liquid that’s rubbed off against your skin, and you shiver. “Mm. I think it’s time to clean up. Want me to scrub your back in the shower? I give very good massages.”

Yoonji’s eyes are dark and warm before she presses her nose to your neck, lips soft as they touch the delicate skin of your throat. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

[icecreamkink]

watched all of the untamed / cql in two weeks after my friend 1 told me abt mdzs a hundred years ago and my friends 2 and 3 tried to get me into cql for like two whole years and there are.

feelings.

very first scene is a very dramatic death in the middle of nightmare battle on sith planet land . i will forget abt it in the next tenish episodes and then will be very surprised when it becomes Extremely Painful

anyway magic flying gays and possession and human sacrifice! we are off to a great start

in retrospect, chaos goblin wei wuxian must have had a blast pretending to be so cRaZy and be as disruptive as he could as mo xuanyu lbr

listen. why is fire always evil coded. cant a magic clan wear red, black and orange and have flame motif while being wholesome?

For Legal Reasons These Are Not Zombies

i wish the politics of the sect were a bit clearer, especially at the beggining when the wen clan had sm power, was wen ruohan the chief cultivator? is that why they were so slow in responding to the attacks? im v confused by the pre yiling patriarch politics

fighting in the roof by the moonlight as way of flirtiiiiiiing. as i understand this is a wuxia/xianxia trope and honestly...... thank u for ur service

slight bullying and being a nuisance in general, as a way of flirting we love to see it

wwx: if i drink on the rooftop, thats not inside the cloud recesses! hmmm check and mate :D lwj: i will fuck u up so help me god   wwx: :0

i lov them

through hell or high water (quite literally) wei wuxian rem ains a trashfire gremlin till the end and i love him with my whole heart

in the pt subs wei wuxian calls jiang cheng a stubborn duck and i dearly wish that had come back

my opinions on almost every character goes from love to hate u - Hmm Me Like U - BABY. ILY. and i am Very Pleased w that. its been a while since i loved such a complete cast so much i think

no really. i WONT go into a detailed rant abt what i love about each of these characters and each of their relationships to each other. but i COULD. 

some lan disciples in the loudest whisper ever: YEAH THATS THE JIN BASTARD MENG YAO HEARD THE GOT SUPER HUMILIATED BY HIS DAD LOL SURE HOPE HE DOESNT TAKE SLIGHTS TO HIS CHARACTER TO HEART

lan xichen, immediately: i must Love him 

being into problematic ppl is in the Lan genetics, we come to realize

wen qing deserves so many awards for so many things but not snapping and just stabbing wen chao is at the top 

that scene at lan qirens class where wwx talks about using resentful energy to fight a violent spirit. exquisite.

 It establishes Good Student lan wangji, wei wuxian as curious and questioning and not afraid of taboo,  lwj sees that wwx is not, in fact, a dumb ass hes just a Dumbass,  shows us the audience (esp. a western audience) how shocking the idea of disrupting the dead/dying and controlling resentful energy actually is,  the theoretical foreshadow arguing, everyone else like ‘shUT UP’,  “and how could you ensure that the resentful energy would obey you and not hurt other?” “well i havent thought that far” and of course, lan qiren just straight up lobbing a hard object at wwx head,. chefs kiss

fellas is it gay to bother the hot rule obessessed nerd from ur school and make drawings of him with flowers in his hair and then hide gay porn in his book to antagonize him and ask him to hold ur hand and be ur friend and talk to him all the time and get him drunk and give him bunnies bc you know he likes them and give him a lantern and always want his attention and dedicate yourself to getting him to smile-

and after all of that wwx rly said oh i Admire him, aksd like yeah we all were there in high school buddy

i have Learned. caves = gay.

 accidental marriage +beint physically tied together with the sacred married ribbon+ gay panic+foreshadowing+bunnies! in the cave (1)

the story abt lan yi and baoshan sanren tho. i would like to see it

early days wen bros pull my heart strings like a guqin 

EVERYTHING about the lantern scene; disaster hets jiang yanli and jin zixuan; how wwx made lwj a bunny lantern. how soft and touched lwj was. wwx gleefully pointing out he was smiling and lwj IMMEDIATELY PULLING HIW SWORD ON HIM LMAO. tragically foreshadowy promises to do right by pepople, living without regrets. lwjs 'oh no do i love him??' face. just. all of it. 

i have it on good acc that in the novel lwj is explicitly Repressed Gay Panicked Big Horny which is delightful and rly Adds to the performance

 baby lwj is really just conceal dont feel dont let them know u have EMOTIONS (derogatory)

jiang cheng rly went "why dont.u go play with HIM if u like him so much"

jc and wwx have big BIG annoying sibling energy dont think too hard abt it or youll cry

lotus pier is soo pretty :((((((((((((((((

up until episode 13 you could think this could be a magical ancient chinese gays pride n prejudice w swords and shenanigans ................youre just not prepared for the game of thrones of it all

seriously ha ha ha i cried so much w this show my eyes genuinely swelled up . like. physically. fun timez fun timez

that being said, its hilarious that wen xu goes to cloud recesses like 'come out or ill kill all these hostages' and then DOESNT WAIT FOR AN ASWER AND KILLS THEM ALL IMMEDIATELY. do u know how blackmail works sir

 would like to make it recorded that from day one i was like 'CALL A GODDAMN CULTIVATION G20 THIS ASSHOLE SECT IS LITERALLY MASSACRING YALL!!' and it took them like 3 or 4 massacres to do anything and they STILL sent their heirs into their territory  LIKE

when wwx cites the gusu lan rules to wen chao tho. that rebel/attention whore/cutie pie 'look lan zhan i DID memorize the rules after all' ‘also a big fuck you to the wen sect :D :D’ sweet spot that scene achieves . delicious

all the cultivator young masters being petty af even though they are practically prisoners at the cave is hilarious and i love them

hurt and comfort + gay mistunderstandings + watsonian gay declaration music + accidental evil acquisition! at the cave (2)

its like where do i start? the fact theyre both trapped and kind of heavily injured inside an isolated cave with a murder turtle? wwx gay panicking lwj into coughing up bad blood? lwj being jealous as wwx babbles abt mianmian? telling him he shouldnt play with people and wwx saying he never played him? wwx going Oh. I See what is happening. YOU like mianmian, and lwj absolute done face ??? (iconic) wwx touching the sacred married ribbon Again? the telepathic communication? the sword? WEI WUXIAN ASKING LAN WANGJI TO SING TO HIM AS HE IS PASSING OUT AND LWJ SINGING HIM. THE SONG. HE WROTE. FOR WWX. AND THAT HE CALLED. THEIR SHIP NAME????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

they are SO insufferable pleeeeease

in the words of my friend 1 : “CQL is so gay we were all amazed how it got past the censors Ofc unfortunately it can't be novel level gay But they did their best And we love them for it”

in the theme of songs THIS OST. WUJI HAS BEEN LIVING IN MY MIND RENT FREE SINCE I FIRST HEARD IT the whole ost is so so sO beautiful.

 the costuming in this is also soooo exquisite. the embroidery? the fabrics? the details? how every sect and clan has a distinct style and architecture? (also ik they based each off of dif periods in chinese history which is REALLY fucking cool) just chefs kiss

the direction too!. i enjoy the unusual camera movements and i think they give it that Vibe, also their composition is PARTICULARLY good when it comes to telling the subtext through position of camera/position of character (like nhs off to the side in scenes he at first glance doesnt need to be/ how lwj is often centered when hes Jealous Yearning at wwx being affectionate w other ppl, wwx return from burial mounds etc)

ik madam yu is like Badass Milf Check and shes not getting any mom of the year awards but im delighted at how messy she is. IMAGINE that woman on tiktok

you better have enjoyed gay cave (2) bc its Just Pain from here on out! 

jiang fengmian and madame yu win the Most Dramatic Way to show they do care about each other, actually ..... ever :)

i thought jiang yanli jiang cheng and wei wuxian forcing themselves to escape yunmeng barely holding on after their parents are killed was going to be the height of pain in this show. ha. 

the family dynamics in general on this showwwww, both blood/ adopted/ found families, brotherly bonds and lifelong friendships just. rly. truly. fucked me up. theyre all so important and complicated and well rounded and beautiful and tragic

and beyond being a Win For the Gays im so glad the relationships w wwx and jiang yanli/ wen qing were NOT changed from platonic bc they are so much better like that imo. like maybe if we didnt Live In A Society it wouldnt be so, but the fact wwx and others can love and value them so much and theres nothing romantic or sexual abt it is like. so refreshing. especially @ jyl, with the way he and jc are overprotective of her and shes such a nurturing/care taker figure for them, it would just not vibe as well if they made it romantic

i love that this is a story abt Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch aka Actual Satan/Boogey Man/Village With/Public Enemy Number One , my dude is literally a necromancer who only dresses in black and has evil smokey black tendrils wafting out of him, but the really edgy one is still jiang cheng, pastel purple fashion icon

and speaking of best/worst siblings wei wuxian and jiang cheng *immediately starts crying* 

The Golden Core Transfer i just. no thots only tears 

wen qing and wen ning putting themselves in so much danger just.... to help them. wn saving jc from wen chao. wq finding a way to get wwx to transfer his core. like thinking about the monumental work these two did to help wwx and jyl and jc... jyl trying so fucking hard to be strong and keep on moving and giver her little brothers comfort after losing everything... jiang cheng. losing his parents and his home and his ability to do anything abt it and his complete desperation and lack of self worth and turning on them with agression  when he didnt realize all that they did for him ... hhhhhhhhhhhhh

me, pointing at the whole cast “i just LOVE them mom!!!”

its sad tho, that BARELY ANY of the women have like.... actual important conversations let alone relationships with each other at all in the story. and like wq and jyl have stayed at the same place for extended periods of time, where wq actively took care of her TWICE,  and still! not one measly convo, nothing! ................ .𝓌ₕᵧ

everyone in this show need a good sip of Self Worth and Stop Sacrificing Yourself juice 

ngl the sword flying looks very dumb 

“a-cheng, please bring a-xian back.” “i will, i promise.” ;-;

the whole calling each other by the More Intimate Version of the name, first as teasing and later as true intimacy. mmmhmmm yes

untamed where everythings the same but wwx evil flute song is eoeo

related that scene when wwx comes back from the burial mounds for the first time w demonic cultivation and he acts all formal and calls lwj hanguang-jun and keeps being evasive and distant and mean and soooooo................. facetious 

and how hes kind of desperately trying to keep intense lwj at bay (A FIRST) and avoiding actually talking to either of them and its all tension ughhh and then he MOCKS his and lwjs relationship, he jokes w him in this like... mean echo of their usual ~banter~ oof 

 and like!!! uncertain but so relieved jc who just HUGS him w no reservations for once and its not like he isnt just as worried as lwj abt wwx and what hes doing, but he chooses in that moment to enjoy getting him back first and mmhmMMMmMm yes (maybe my favorite scene in the whole show? MAYBE SO. ) 

highkey hurt me but also. i might be into mean wwx. i will take no criticism.

lan zhans sad eyes tho :((((((((( 

on one hand i wish we could have seen what happened at the burial mounds but on the other the timeskip adds so much flair to his return so im hnnn

also i love that hes been missing for 3 months reappears kinda melancholic and bloodthirsty and knowing malign tricks and jc is like 'so. are u sad bc of lan wangji'

when ur bae survived the war but he thinks ur evil/ might be evil so you cant kiss :///

hmmm talking at the rooftop under the moonlight not mentioning everything that stands between usssss

they are the two jades of lan and we’ll be the two heroes of yunmeng is the type of line u dont even need to know whats gonna happen to know thats gonna be sad

when they fight wen ruoshan at the nightless city i thought that was the battle we see at the first ep and its not and its so easy and theyre all like ‘yayy we won go wwx!’ i was just. SCREAMS WHAT is gonna HAPPEN

so like. post burial mounds/sunshot campaign pre yiling patriarch wwx is like. ultra arrogant, ultra mocking, peak lil shit and it gave me e v e r y t h i n g i wanted

even tho having the wen prisoners at the targets at phoenix mountain and still having wwx and jzx shooting the arrows was???? so.... tone deaf 

wwx: fucking w demonic energy   jyl: he has never done anything wrong in his life, ever <3 <3 (mood)

the parallels between meng yao/wei wuxian (and even xue yang a bit?) are Seen and they are Valid

wwx post burial mounds: can yall SHUT UP abt the goddamn sword (suibian left the chat)

LIKE truly, we talk abt the angst and yearning with wangxian. but what abt wwx and suibian. xianbian / xianqing angst and comfort 100k

take a shot everytime someone coughs up blood

zidian is simply the coolest spiritual weapon rip to suibian and chenqing and bichen and sendou and baixa........ but tis the truth 

cons: everyones families died in a nightmare war! everyones homes burned to the ground! everyone is traumatized! pros: everyone gets cooler clothes and weapons!!

wen ning and a-yuan and yanli bestest babes squad dont touch me rn

everyone: brooding and fighting                                                                wq and jyl: why dont you try some acupunture/drinking some soup and calm down huh? how abt that bitch?? 

showing the battle/massacre at the nightless city first was genius actually bc then everytime we have a cute scene w yunmeng bros and theyre like 'we'll be together forever! uwu' youre like oh. oh no. oh no no no. 

justice vs lawfulness vs means and ends 👁

jc: stay in the right path and practice the art of the sword                        wx: yeah thats not gonna happen chief

my reaction to wwx renouncing to the sect politics to help the wens was just that elmo burning gif in succession

the dramatic rain. wen qing desperately calling out to wen ning. the ghosts/puppets killing the guards. how terrifying wn actually was while wwx was controlling him :( lwj goeing after him to try and stop him and then he just; he Sees him and understands him even if he cant actually do anything about it other than let them go. 

“there must be somewhere in this earth we can go to :(((((((((”

"IF I HAVE TO FIGHT THEM, I'D RATHER IT BE YOU. DYING BY YOUR HANDS WOULD AT LEAST BE WORTH IT." oh my god oh my god oh my goooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooddddddd

also lwjs umbrella is white w black smoke.. .  . nice

yiling patriarch / demonic farming burial mounds settlement is like one of my favorite concepts. they an "EVIL" FARMING COMMUNITY LED BY THE VILLAGE WITCH COME ON

they planted TURNIPS and LOTUS FLOWERS and ONE (1) baby and made lanterns and a common hall :(((((((

wen qing and wei wuxian, baddest bitches and genius science best friends i absolutely LOVED to see it. they rly went ‘is anyone gonna sibling/project partner that’ and didnt wait for an answer

both wwx and jyl getting lotus ponds at the burial mounds and in lanling bc they miss lotus pier ;;;;;;;w

;;;;; wish jyl had actually gone into the burial mounds. we were robbed of jyl and wq meeting again and jyl meeting a-yuan and seeing the settlement and the homes and all ;w; at least jc did go, stab wounds and broken arms and all

wwx like... having thrown his whole life away to help the wens (yeah the sect leaders and jin guangshan in particular wanting his stygian tiger amulet was an Element but still) and not.... necessarily regretting it, but grappling with all of the consequences of it... becoming moody and drepressed at times, missing his family and lotus pier and his friends and probably simply missing being around people and causing trouble, extrovert that he is, lashing out at the wens and at a-yuan, just in general the whole messiness of that experience

the way the resentful energy does affect his temperament is rly nice bc its not too in your face,(i mean outside of the Shaky Hands of Rage) but like he clearly has a much lesser control on his anger and impulsivity (tall order) than both before bm and after hes ressurected

on that note A-YUAN BABIEST BABY BOY BEST BOY

lan zhan being like oh hey there wei ying fancy meeting u and our son here. just passing by u know how it is hmmmmMm and then PLOT TWIST having defied orders to go see him and being punished for it. oof;;

 they habent seen each other in like? a year? and now theyre tgt 10 seconds and are already parenting a child together

also lwj rly kneels down in the snow way too much to be healthy

wwx: calm down guyssss i wont lose control of demonic cultivation omgggg  .   spoiler alert: he loses control of demonic cultivation

did u enjoy cute children? good bc now the Real Pain Begins

jiang yanli and jin zixuan rly out there APROPRIATING both disaster gays AND bury ur gays huh ;w;

i KNEW jin lings birthday was gonna fuck something up but the GASP that left my body when wwx lost control of wn and killed jin zixuan .. . . 

im sorry and thank you aaaaAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaAAAAaAAAAA 

when wen ning and wen qing were telling wwx their plan i was saying NO NO NO NO NO NO out loud in despair 

also can we talk abt how wq is definetely talking about only the both of them surrending themselves but then? everyone else just surrenders w them? IT MAKES NO SENSE LIKE WHY WOULD THEY what would be the Point

 sometimes there are some pretty gaping jumps in logic and continuity that are just like                     ?          ?

wwx: oh so when you try to murder me its justified but when i survive through dark magic and murder all of you its a "war crime"

unsurprisingly, his most feral, most spiraling moment talking to the sect leaders on the roof and attacking them and even fighting lan zhan is among my favorite scenes... its like, so painful to watch but also   so       thrilling   (and maybe my wen bbs dying arose some resentful energy in me what can i say) 

and its JUST, all they ever wanted was to do good but then... war. and trauma. and hubris. 

jiang cheng on the ground clearly thorn between what to do and feel is a Mood, lets just say

i was already crying when jyl showed up, but if i wasnt-

 i suffered SO MUCH through this series trying to figure out WHY jc would kill wwx. and when i understood. its somehow not as bad as i thought and also MUCH MUCH WORSE

a look into my group chat during the last flashback episodes:

SO ANYWAY. after the BLOOD BATH and RIPPING YOUR HEART OUT and FEEDING IT TO YOU  the untamed goes ‘ayy back to the present!! tu du dud ud du’ 

literally it ends a quarter into an episode and then KEEPS GOING i had to pause and stare blankly at the ceiling for an hour

babie cultivators and detective soulmates . i do need some cute after All of That 

(not that the pain is over LOL)

lwj is significantly less emotionally repressed in the present and its delightful. hes just ALL IN with wwx. and not just in the ‘i would and have killed various men and risked my reputation for you’ but also ‘ur tired here have a drink i brought it up cause i know u like it and it want you to be happy, always’

“when everyone praised me and wanted my power, you were the only one that challenged me. now that everyone hates me and wants me dead, youre the only one that stands by my side.” hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

and just filling in the blanks how lan zhan searched for him. for all of those 16 years he searched for him and was punished for it and raised a-yuan, the only survivor of the burial mounds settlement, as his own in gusu......

and jiang cheng.  being the tough love uncle . having raised the yunmeng jiang clan from the rubble all alone, his whole family dead, some of it on the blame of his own brother, his siblings, his closest friends gone.......and only jin ling there needing his guidance. 

THE PARALLEL BETWEEN JIN LING BEING A LIFELINE FOR JIANG CHENG AND A-YUAN FOR LAN WANGJI AFTER THE BATTLE AT THE NIGHTLESS CITY  

great now i made myself sad

and like . the fact! that lwj and jc dislike each other!!. jc projects blame onto him for wwx both “leaving” him and indirectly causing their families deaths and when hes so consumed by it he makes wwx an enemy, lwj is there now? trying to protect him?? and lwj, who can never understand the pain that wwx , indirectly or not put jc through, but who was right there when jc tried to kill him and will never allow him to hurt wwx again. and how they like. in a way project blame of their tragedies onto each other while dealing with some type of survivor guilt and in their own way still loving wwx through it all???  amd in way its kind of fundamentally selfish but also tragically understandable? and like when u put it against the fact that after he disappears during the sunshot campaign they were looking for him together and fought together??

JUST. THE CHARACTERS. AND THE RELATIONSHIPS IN THIS. MAN. UGH. GOD. 

and like i think thats what makes it so good? its such a sad and painful and violent story, edgy even, but its compelling bc at the center of it there are all of these relationships and different types of love and hope and. :( i love it

enough crying lets talk abt wwx sleeping at the jingshi with lwj and wearing his under garment for a minute 🙏

 jin ling just has that Was Raised by JC energy tho lmao i love him

babie cultivator squad is the perfect ammount of cute and comedic relief while still bearing the weight? of the narrative in a way, both from sizhui and jin lings existences, and also. like. how do i put this. they feel hopeful? they were born after a war, they came of age at a time of relative peace, they dont hold on so closely to the resentments of their parents/father figures, they are specifically shown as more accepting and open minded. and its like.... Hope for the future  

one of the ?? things  i love the most is the fact that the main cast are often in situations where theyre hunted/running but they like. never wear disguises... just going around in their gorgeous expensive clan clothes and hair ornaments and distinctive spiritual weapons.... maybe w a straw hat on, just for kicks

wwx teacher 🥺🥺🥺

so this is why its called Yi City Misery huh

a-qing is such. an icon. im so sad. my girl even knew to leave xys dumb self rotting by the road but no one listens to her thats why theyre all dead or sad 

her and xue yang measuring each other up was so entertaining lmao

 its the funniest thing when hes like. HERES MY SAD STORY. FOR WHY IM A SADISTIC MURDERER. I BROKE MY HAND ONCE. 

like ok someone broke his hand in a horrible way, and like Poverty, i get it but also like.......... that lost the brunt of a proper sob story like, 50 sadistic murders ago bby

and i love that xingchen does not entertain that for a second hes like ‘not ?????? good enough???’ and the best thing is he wasnt even like 'u hadto be the bigger person' or sth but ' well then break that dudes hand back, rip his arm off for i care, what do the rest of us have to do w anything???” 

anjo sensato :(

xue yang is like..... the sexy sadistic evil version of a himbo..... a meanbo...

the fucked upness of xy’s feelings for xxc/ xxc and sl feelings for each other... like my dude literally gave his bf HIS EYES. and xy getting so attached to xxc .... the fucked up fake domesticity.... having him hurt sl..... then desperately trying to bring him back ...................... oof

song lan........... literally had his eyes AND tongue removed, his bfs eyes put in place, was almost killed, turned into a puppet by his bf unknowingly, manipulated by xy, sees his bf killing himself in despair.... and STILL finds the strenght to get up from there, and keep on traveling and helping people and attempting to fix xxcs soul.......... like, my man. damn. 

wangxian looking at songxiao and seeing an Actually more painful parallel for themselves. ft. that Color Coding. 

THE A-YUAN/SIZHUI REVEAL PUNCHED ME IN THE HEART but in a good way for a change

should have know that he would be the Best Boy the cute one w all the braincells

the butterfly AND the bunny lantern. i see how it is

u know is very convenient that no one can see the stark black veins on wen nings neck, ever 

BAT WEN NING 

wns face when lwj comes into wwx room like ‘:0 omg did u two finally get your shit together? good for you master wei good for u’ 

(they didnt) (yet)

DISASTER DRUNK LWJ. JUST. THRUST SOME CHICKENS TO SHOW UR RESSURECTED BAE THAT U LOVE THEM.

i have absolutely no idea WHY they gave lwj the same punishment for fighting his own sect/allies to protect the burial mounds as when they got drunk on cloud recess class days.... like? its such a ... emotional continuity error again

also is lwj gonna get an actual friend besides wwx , ever

mianmian marrying and having a family and a cute life after saying FUCK U AND UR SYSTEM TOO in a much less unhinged and dramatic way than wwx......... fills me w joy

also lol the idea that like. her husband not knowing that shes friends w satan/the boogey man/the village witch is hilarious

i love nie mingjue bc hes the resident Though Guy but also the most dramatic bitch in this show and thats Saying Something

jin ling cant have one uneventful relative can he

the fact that everyone present already knew “mo xuanyu” was wwx at the stairs is so funny, their faces are like ‘oh............ wow. that. sure is a development. shock” 

in the tradition of extremely loud whispers wwx tells lwj with twelve guards standing like one meter away from them: HEY PSH LAN ZHAN PRETEND IM FORCING YOU TO STAY W ME DO IT

oh my god oh my god

the absolute Yearning on his face when he leaves wwx and a-yuan at the burial mounds and refuses to stay for dinner was already Enough but the fact?? they brought it back?? to this declaration of love?? their expressions??????? strike me dead right now just go ahead

lFor Legal Reasons We Cant Kiss but we will have a very sappy declaration of love and trust and look at each other in way that is the actualization of 💞💘💗💖💓💘💞💗💖💘💗💖💕💞

also icb all the sect leaders and guards are standing there watching them say they like like each other with a dozen swords pointing at their neck

i enjoyed the depiction of the fickle public perception and how easily it can be used to scapegoat people. when the sect leaders turn on jgy and wwx knows thats its more for convenience than anything else...

poor lxc is literally like 'oh so when YOUR problematic boyfriend gets called evil its a misunderstanding but when its MY problematic bf-'

ok like i cant get over nmj let jgy play a song that messed with his temperament at all, like maN u KNEW he might be shady wth

wwx: “hey dont say anything bad abt lan zhan hes not an arrogant dick, thats just his face. 

ME ON THE OTHER HAND"

the cultivators as wwx is poking holes in their narrative is literally *nazaré meme*

"wei wuxian-!" "what did i break your leg, too?" not to be problematic but i laughed so hard

not as hard as "you dont have the rank to talk to me " tho

i Enjoy that, over the course of story, wwx sees that... theres nothing truly to Do, but move on. he saw how his arrogance and his mistakes hurt others, and hes trying to fix what he can, but he already did die for his mistakes and there are things he cant fix and that's. just how it is. even towards jgy, the narrative doesn't go gleefully and completely with "lets make THEM pay bc theyre the big bad" bc its not that simple, and it wouldn't lead anywhere but more pain...

re him and jiang cheng and the wens and kinda. isnt that what nhs did? scheming to displace jgy out of revenge more than any justice and doing so in the most painful way?

idk if that actually makes sense im truly just babbling

i thought the scene at the lotus pond would be CUTE but the context was PAIN again

jiang cheng finding out about his golden core and his conflict with wwx at the guanyin temple .... destroyed me but in a nice way kinda.... same way it destroys him look at his face oh god

and. the fact??? he sacrificed himself for wwx?? first?? and he'll probably never tell anyone much less wwx???? keeps me up at night

i havent decided if the neckbreak transition between jgy does sth super Evil or does he he does OR Does He yes he does O R does heeeee is sth i dislike or not

jin guangyao and wei wuxians most interesting parallel is that... theyve both seen 'hmm hey this system is fucked up' and wwx went 'so fuck it all i will renounce it and challenge it' and jgy went 'so fuck it i will use all of it to my advantage and manipulate it to my goals and whims'

the fact jgys mom was actually great and he loved her and his whole issue w it was more than simply being ashamed of being a bastard kinda got me ngl

never trust a dude with a fan.

nhs and jgy: the first rule to a convoluted and decades spanning violent revenge plot is to have fun and be yourself! 

when a-yuan finally FINALLY remembers ;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;-;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;; wen ning has someone in his family back and a-yuan has someone to talk abt his wen family and wwx has him back bc he survived and lwj raised him anD HES THEIR SON. THEYRE MARRIED AND HAVE A SON. UGH.

and theyre allowed to heal. everyone is allowed to try and recover and be happy

netflix put all of the 3 endings on top of each other and it looks kinda weird actually BUT I DONT EVEN MIND :’’’’’’’’’)

the gasp that left me when lwj says ‘wei ying’ and wwx turns.........

there was also a screen with ‘thank you mxtx for creating these characters, we hope their wishes come true’ and i might. have cried then too. maybe. 

that was . a ride. as is proven by this behemot of a ramble clearly i just really needed and Outlet. i am currently trying to convince dumb monkey brain to not consume the other medias of mdzs immediately bc i REALLY need to like. live. a life. and take care of real responsibilities.  *longest oh boi ever*

[comfy-whumpee]

Whumping Safely 101

Many people in this community have mental health problems, face various types of discrimination, and have complicated relationships with some parts or types of whump. In particular, I aim this at people who care about the experience of survivors and others with triggers – partially because I am an abuse survivor who often flirts with triggering content as part of my love of whump.

Keeping your blog safe is difficult, takes effort, and is never a perfect process. But as the community grows and grows, it’s really important that we hold ourselves to a high standard. I would argue that this is a responsibility of all content creators, but especially those of us in the messy playground of whump.

I’ve got three sections in here: content warnings, writing with care, and community interaction. I’ve tried to make it navigable. It’s about 1.8k words. Shorter than a lot of drabbles! I welcome good-faith criticism on this topic and further questions on my own views.

Content Warnings

The biggest responsibility, in my opinion, is empowering your reader to make their own decision on whether they want to expose themselves to your writing. This also happens to be by far the easiest way to help people whump safely.

What to warn

This is a big and ever-changing topic. Some things you should warn for as a rule of thumb are anything NSFW, pet whump and box boy whump, drugs and alcohol, medical and hospital content, graphic gore, intimate partner violence, and animal harm. It can be tricky to draw the line of what counts – what needs a warning? If you’re in doubt, just warn it anyway. It doesn’t hurt.

If someone requests a trigger be warned for, even if it’s something that feels obscure or tame, show compassion and agree to the request. This is someone who cares enough about being able to read your writing that they wrote in! They want to be able to read it and enjoy it. You’re being complimented.

Otherwise, look at what other blogs tag for. You’ll see some variation in styles and levels of detail, but it’s a good way to gauge what people think is warn-worthy, when we’re often writing stuff that would already be R-rated in mainstream media.

Read Mores

The easiest way to make sure people don’t see your triggering content is to use a cut. Tumblr is not a very functional website and likes to delete cuts, but a cursory check of your posted content will usually tell you whether it’s worked. With asks, cuts are very spotty, so don’t be afraid to post an ask response separately with a screengrab of the original question. People often then respond to the ask itself with a link to the post, especially if it’s a whole drabble. Tumblr is weird and bad so just do your best.

Content notices

I.e., a quick summary before the drabble, usually in bold, to state what will be coming. I like to distinguish between using content notes (CN) and trigger warnings (TW) to indicate severity. Others might use the old phrase ‘dead dove do not eat’ to indicate this is a heavy piece, and often you will see qualifiers like ‘intense’, ‘mild’, ‘mention’, ‘referenced’ (i.e. it is discussed but not actively happening), and ‘implied’ (as the opposite of ‘explicit’). I’ve also seen a couple of people use ‘vibes’, which is a really nice way of demonstrating that it’s there, but not the focus. A quick paragraph like this, or just a line, lets people make a quick risk assessment on their reading.

This is also important if you’re sending in asks or requests to people. If you want to ask about something triggering, send an inquiry first about whether the blog is okay to hear it.

Tagging

Tagging is a chore, but it’s your primary way of warning people about your content. The main benefit of tagging is that you can be as detailed as you want, because can be tagging for content in general, not just triggers.

In a best case scenario, you’d tag the kind of whump you’re doing, tag triggers, tag characters, and even your ‘verses, because tagging is your index for your blog. If you tag reliably, you help your future self and your readers find stuff, and you also make your blog really dang safe. People who have unusual triggers can blacklist tags, and will pick up on your content tags to help them.

Don’t just tag your own writing. Tag your reblogs, tag your prompts, tag your asks. Yes, edit your asks to add the tags. Tag your images and gifs. Tag your images as images and your gifs as gifs.

If you aren’t up for detailed tagging for whatever reason, just tag for triggering content, and add stuff to that list if you’re asked to. My usual technique is to make a mental note of tags while I’m formatting and editing before posting.

Be aware that your first five tags will be used in search results. If you’re using tags that are associated with kink too, such as ‘shibari’, you might want to rethink your tag order if you don’t want interaction from those blogs. Also think about what tags might come up in non-whump contexts, such as ‘collar’ or ‘PTSD’. Some tactics for getting around this I’ve seen are adding ‘whump’ after the content or writing the tags in past tense (i.e., ‘collared’).

It is also a good idea to watch out for when you might be reblogging something whumpy that is intended as kink / porn / fetish, especially in images. Tagging these as spicy / nsfw / kink is a sensible move.

Writing with Care

Okay, now for the harder stuff.

I mean here to lay out some guidelines for how to write in a way that helps your reader build good faith. This is a much more nuanced topic, and it’s different for everyone. There will always be differing opinions on what should and shouldn’t be written about, what a good depiction of a sensitive topic is, and how to discuss that topic. I tried to strip this back into absolute basics that I hope we can all agree on.

Maybe your whump involves abuse. Maybe it’s gaslighting. Maybe it’s severe mental health problems, or addiction, or slavery, or you write about or analogise real-world issues. Whump deals with the dark stuff, and that’s a big part of its appeal. But don’t ever forget you’re writing the dark stuff.

(Try to) Know what you’re doing

Some of us play fast and loose with plots, medical accuracy, worldbuilding, and other things that get in the way of the pain we crave. This is all well and good, but when we start using whump that speaks true to people’s lived experiences, we shouldn’t be careless with it. I’m particularly talking about things that get represented poorly in mainstream media, such as abusive relationships, issues around marginalisation, mental illness and disability.

Be critical of media that you’ve consumed. Think about how its depicted things that you want to depict in turn. Look for opinions on fictional representations of those issues. Be aware that you might be more ignorant of things than you realise.

Look at how others are writing these issues, particularly if they’re writing from a perspective different to yours. If you haven’t personally experienced what you’re writing about, e.g., if you don’t have PTSD and you want to depict a character who does, seek out stuff written from or with experience. Listen to the experts.

If you’re looking for stuff about representation specifically, I recommend this collection of posts about ‘Braving Diversity’ cultivated by Writing With Colour, who are in themselves a fantastic resource for this topic, and have recommendations for other blogs that deal with intersecting issues.

Listen to others

Missteps are inevitable. Nobody is perfect. If constructive criticism is offered, that’s also a compliment to your writing. Someone read your work and thought about it, and thought you’d care about improving it. They’re offering themselves as a resource for helping you see your work in a new light.

Criticism is hard and sometimes hurtful, but even if we don’t think it’s accurate, there’s often a grain of truth in it. If someone tells you that your writing is harmful, think about why they’ve said that, not whether or not they’re correct. This is an opinion! Opinions are subjective! But what drove someone to send that in?

You don’t have to respond to all your criticism and definitely don’t respond straight away. Being respectful to those who are trying to help you means taking the time to consider it properly. Sometimes, they don’t need a response. Others, you might want to learn more about what they think before deciding. You might have already discussed the topic, in which case, you might just want to reblog your previous posts.

If it’s sent in bad faith or is outright hateful, you’re well within your rights to just delete it and move on. You might get the same criticism over and over again, and that’s exhausting, and you don’t have to retrace your steps for everyone.

But if it’s new, even if it puts your hackles up, you can always stop and wonder why someone felt that strongly about your work.

Take a step back

One of my better-known characters is a pet whumper who conditioned his victim to adore and depend on him. It’s not always easy to represent how deeply messed up that is within the text – though I think that’s part of the challenge – but in meta-commentary, I am always describing him as a creeptastic bastard lacking compassion and self-reflection. I hope to always give the reader the confidence that I know just how wrong it is.

This is a really simple thing you can do just to give readers good faith in you. Show that you know what you’re writing is dark and messed up. Show your understanding for the issues you’re handling and that they’re complicated. It might seem self-evident, but when you’re writing the really dark stuff, or unhealthy relationships, or institutionalised whump, you can inadvertently create the impression that you just think it’s fun. The fact that it’s fiction does not automatically absolve you. Show that you care about doing it right.

Community Interaction

I’m going to keep this one short and sweet because I will almost entirely be preaching to the choir here.

Be polite to others. Imagine saying what you’re saying to their face.

Don’t send anon hate. Just don’t. If you can send criticism off anon, do so.

Nobody is obligated to interact with you.

Nobody is obligated to monitor their own reader base.

If someone says do not interact, do not interact.

If someone says do not interact, why they’ve said that is none of your business.

You don’t need to spread the word about someone’s bad politics.

Ask yourself if your input is needed, or if what you’ve said has already been said.

You don’t have to take a side.

Take care of yourself. Take breaks. Remind yourself that whump is a small part of the world.

That’s all from me, folks. Stay safe.