#might make more aesthetic based characters

[cripplecharacters]

Hi hi, I'm writing a fic with a number of mentally and/or physically disabled characters, and have a few questions.

+ One of my characters has autism, and I intend to write from their POV eventually. I am not diagnosed with autism (though many people have told me that it is likely I do) and I'm unsure of how to go about writing them. I have a strange train of thought that I've found most people can't relate to (one thing will make me think of something else that it is only related to in my mind, if that makes since), so I was thinking of basing their train of thought off mine, but I don't know if that would be a good idea. Any tips?

+ I want to write one of my character to have a congenital limb defect in his leg, like my great great grandfather, who had a peg leg. The story is set in a fantasy world, with slightly better technology than the world we live in, however, the character in question lives on an island country with relatively few resources and his family is kind of poor. Should I give him a modern prosthetic, or a peg leg? (For context, another character in this fic is a cyborg with a fully functional cybernetic arm that connects to their nervous system and can be controlled as well as an actual arm.)

+ Would it be ok for me to give a character facial vitiligo that highlights their (fantasy) race? Like, very intricate swirls and spots? It has almost nothing to do with the story or the character's personality, it's simply for the character design.

2/2 I should probably clarify, when I said that vitiligo was just for the character design, I actually meant that disabilities and facial difference aren't as stigmatized in this world, because of all the different peoples who inhabit it. (Snake peoples, goblin-like peoples, sea creature peoples [not mermaids], ect.)

Hello,

so, most of these questions have already been answered on the blog numerous times. Please go look through our resources first next time.

1: If the character is meant to be autistic, then it's a good thing for them to think like an autistic person. It might be different than what allistic readers relate to, but if the character is autistic, they need to have autistic traits. Basing it on yourself in this scenario just makes sense - attempting to make it more relatable/palatable for allistic readers would defeat the purpose.

2: So, most leg amputees who can't afford a prosthesis will simply use crutches. They're cheaper than peg legs and more comfortable to use, especially if it's above the knee. That said, there are very low-cost modern prosthetics that are meant for those kinds of situations. This one apparently cost 87 USD as a whole to produce, there are ones made from recycled plastics, etc. But most amputees in poverty will just use crutches and/or a wheelchair.

2.5: Please, please, please, no magic fantasy sci-fi arms that work like bio limbs. This is the most common topic we cover here and our advice/stance is always the same: research how amputation and prostheses actually work, they shouldn't be "controlled as well as an actual arm". There is a link in our pinned in the FAQ section about this, and more in the navigation section.

3: Please don't do this, this falls under fetishization of vitiligo. Vitiligo is a real condition, not an aesthetic. I strongly recommend you look through @vitiligo-is-not-a-trend and/or our #vitiligo representation tag. I'm not sure what highlighting their fantasy race implies, but design choices like likening the vitiligo to animal patterns isn't great either.

Please check the relevant tags on the blog in the future, as most of these questions have been answered previously.

mod Sasza

[just-a-lil-otter]

My siblings and I were playing roblox earlier and I made a cute little scene girl character in Brookhaven so I said fuck it now she's an oc

Everyone say hi to Skylar Scene!!

I love her sm

[sysig]

Cards 👏 cards 👏 cards 👏 (Patreon)

[yesyourstalker]

Neta: *sigh*....... .......

Ikkan: nervous?

Neta:......a little bit yeah.....

Ikkan: *hehehe*...... Don't be nervous, you have nothing to be nervous about I'll be right here.... And after this I'll be here forever

Neta: till death do us part

Ikkan: till death do us part...(Peck).... Fix your tie....and ..... perfect.....now.......let's get married

[wedding music]

officiant: Good evening everyone, friends family we are guided here today to celebrate life's greatest moments and to cherish the words which shall unite Neta Verns

Neta: *smiling*.....*sniff*.......hehe

Officiant: and Ikkan Kane

Ikkan: *smiling*.....*sigh*.....

Officiant: you would like to exchange your vows

Neta: I'd like to go..............*sigh*...... ikkan.... I always look back and remember the first time we first met.

Ikkan: heheh

Neta: you were very standoffish and quiet heh You're also a little bit mean just a little bit

Ikkan: heheh

Neta: If something told me that that really wasn't you. I'm so happy My hunch was right. Ikkan You're kind, You're soft-spoken, you're so patient ....*crying*... I'm sorry........ Getting to see you everyday. Your smile, hearing your laugh and listening to you speak ....*sniff*...about your interest. Your passionate rants about Arpeggio and crescendo I still don't know what that means but I love hearing you say it....

Ikkan: ehhehehehe

Neta: that's the smile I like to see.... I love you Ikkan you're my best friend and I am truly grateful I'm going to live the rest of my life with you I-

[Alright he's been in there long enough. Pull him up]

Neta: what!?......... what!?..... what's happening!!....*cough*.....….*cough*.....what the fuck!!... what's going on?!

Octoling Superior: alright Verns you've been in the pit long enough. Time to get back to training. All chargers are outside doing target practice. Take your weapon and go out with the rest of them.

Neta: what?

Octoling Superior: go outside and do tragic practice. Your punishment is over go

Neta: but-but-but I was getting married! *huff* Where's my husband?! My store?! I had a store and my family.....*huff*..*huff*.... Cirrina......my daughter ......what happened to my crab cakes?!!.*huff*.......

Octoling soldier: *hehe* what's he talking about?

Octoling Superior: I've heard if you stay in the ink pit long enough without interaction the brain starts to hallucinate and starts making things up......to keep it self sane. He'll be fine.

Neta:*huff*huff**huff**sobbing**huff**huff**huff**huffhuffhuffhufff......AAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaah-HA!!.. what?…..huh?..................*huff*.........................*huff*...................*huff*............*huff*.........*huff*.......*huff*........ where is it? Where is it?... here.....*huff*...[squeeze]

Plushie recording: Hi! Demersal the grounding fish! I'm going to ask a few questions ok?... can you name 3 you can see?

Neta:... my dresser......*huff*...my bed....my bass

Recording:.............good job!.....can you tell 3 things you can feel?

Neta:...my bed sheets....my clothes....*huff*....cold floor.....

Recording:..........okay!!....can you tell me where you are?

Neta:......*sigh*....my apartment

Recording:...............good job! Do you know what time it is? The short hand is the hour and the long hand is the minute!

Neta: I know that.... it's...6:47a.m.

Recording:.............. wow! Now can tell me about yourself how old are you!

Neta: ......................35.......

Recording: .........wow! wow!you're so big!

Neta: fuckyou

Recording:what's your name?

Neta: Neta

Recording:.........that's a nice name! We're almost done let's count back to 10 together! Ready?!10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1

Neta 10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1......uggghh

Recording: you're doing so well let's take a deep breath ok? Breath in.....

Neta: [inhale]

Recording: now Breath out

Neta: [exhale]

Recording: you are safe.... I'm so proud of you! It's ok to feel overwhelmed sometimes. I know it can be really hard.. just Remember your grounding technique and don't forget to self-sooth!...stay safe hehe bye bye

Neta: you're lucky Behi gifted you to me...if it wasn't for him you would've been sold decades ago.........[chuck] ..............[inhale] [exhale]................ nibbles come here......Did I scare you off the bed?....*kiss*.. . I'm sorry..............hm?...

Mahi:*sleeping*....

Neta: heheh...*huff*...fish still here?.......heh makes sense...

_______________________________________________

Mahi: *yawn*..........ummm....uggg....... Neta you need to get a better couch this one sucks.....oh....

Neta: no.... I don't want you to come home... Not for something as dumb as a nightmare ..hehe....I'm fine.I know..i know I know babe I get that... You shouldn't have to drop everything for me..... I know you don't mind it but I do.... I hate that.... yeah I understand........ yeah........ yeah............................. You're right.......................*sigh*....no......I still don't want you to come home..... Can you at least stay on the phone with me for a while?....... Pancakes... I think I buried some hehehehe.....*sigh*... No.... it looks fine. A little dark in the middle..... It should be fine... You cook better than I do..... What are you doing?..... Why are you milking them by hand I thought you had a machine for that........ Oh she's scared of it? awwww poor manatee......... An hour? it takes an hour to get a full bucket of milk?....... Okay that's fair. They are big...I-(gasp).... Mahi!..[inhale exhale]........ How long have you been sitting there

Mahi: couple minutes..... Can I have a pancake

Neta:. .................... Yeah, I'm fine. No, it's just my employee, yeah fish still here......... I'll call you when I get to work..... I love you too...bye................... How many pancakes do you want?

_______________________________________________

Mahi: *eating*......

Neta:*eating*.......

Mahi: *eating*.... pancakes are good

Neta: *eating* thank you

Mahi: how do to make them shape like little octopuses

Neta:...Cirrina bought cookie cutter sets years ago. sometimes use them for molds for pancakes..... I use it for eggs too...*sniff*...........*sigh*............ I have to get ready for work.....[stretch].......[POP]...mmmmm......fuck not today knee...ssssss

Mahi:...*eating*....you know you really should try investing in a knee brace I think my friend has a couple of them I can see if she can give you one

Neta: that's nice........

Mahi: so I know you have to go to work and everything in a couple minutes. Would it be too much to ask to drive me to campus I got to go to the library and do some studying

Neta: Alright..... We'll leave 15 minutes... Do you have clothes to get dressed in?

Mahi: no

Neta: we can just find something in the drawer.....

Mahi: can I borrow these jeans?

Neta: Yeah sure. I don't think they don't fit you tho

Mahi: they fit me just fine I just need to cut the pants legs

Neta: *sigh*. . You know you might as well just take the rest of my old clothes. I'm never going to fit em again anyway

Mahi: really?

Neta: yeah really I insist I really don't care. You can have them

Mahi: are you sure?....

Neta: you know what I'll just give them to my daughter she doesn't listen to 'Cyrus in the cyclones' but I think she'll like the Cool vintage look of it

Mahi: no gimme! Don't give it to her! She'll just ruin it and turn it into a jagged uneven crop top! _______________________________________________

Ikkan: I finished milking tulip

Koi-koi: That's good hun. We'll have it pasteurized tomorrow. Just keep it in the fridge in the shed

Ikkan: alright

Cirrina: I'm going out..

Koi-koi: and where do you think you're going?

Cirrina: I need to go into the city The ferry leaves in an hour

Koi-koi: I don't think so. You haven't finished your chores you were supposed to refill the Manatee feed today and You're supposed to mix up the compost in the back.

Cirrina: I know I'll get to when I get back

Koi-koi: noooo... You will do it now. Young lady, I'm not like your father or your grandfather when I say do something you do it now. You can take the next ferry

Cirrina: but I-

Koi-koi: no buts young lady

Cirrina: I'm meeting someone

Koi-koi: meeting who Exactly?

Cirrina:.............a friend

Koi-koi: ....a friend? What friend?

Cirrina: (blush)......he's a boy

Koi-koi: a boy?.....

Cirrina: ... yeah....

Koi-koi: where is he taking you?

Cirrina: a museum, around town

Koi-ko:........ A museum?........................................,........ Be home by 9:00......... Here get yourself some food maybe a souvenir.

Cirrina: you're cool grandma....

Koi-koi: uh-huh whatever...... When you get home you'll do the chores that you were supposed to do and..... You wash the dishes

Cirrina: alright

_______________________________________________

Baja: did you see the commercial mom?

Baja's mom: I saw the commercial... I am so proud of you sweetheart You're going to be on TV how exciting

Baja: I know ... I still can't believe it

Baja's mom: this is going to open up so many opportunities. The benefits will be nice. You have a nice paycheck and a lot of money, make sure you save some of it. You're going to make so many new friends!!

Baja: yeah hehe I hope I do...

Baja's mom: I know you have problems making friends.

Baja: mmmmm

Baja's mom: You're a sweet boy you really are

Baja: thank mom

Baja mom: you know this might be the perfect time for you to find someone

Baja: fine who?

Baja's mom: A partner! Ohhhhhh I'm so happy for you honey. You can go on dates. You can meet new people. You'll be married in no time?

Baja: uhhhhh I guess....... I'm going to be really honest Mom. I don't really think I want to do that right now

Baja's mom: Well I don't want to rush you but it's good to start... You know your brother is already married and your sister is on her fifth kid...

Baja: Mom

Hine (Baja's mom): I know. I know I shouldn't compare my kids but let me just finish. Your siblings are no older than you and they've already have their lives set up and I don't want you to fall behind

Baja:Mom, I'm not falling behind. I-I just...ugh....... I'm just....... I'm just not good at dating and seeing people

Hine: What on Earth do you mean baby?! you're not good at dating? Honey, you're the most talkative and social person in the family! How could you think you're not good at dating? You're a real catch

Baja:.........

Hine: What about that fella you told me about? I looked him up, I didn't really like the images I saw .. what about him? I thought you liked him?

Baja: We broke up

Hine: you broke up?....*sigh*...... So you're single?........ So what are you just......... Are you just sleeping around?

Baja: (blush)..NO! I'M NOT

Hine:Sweetie, don't be embarrassed. A lot of young adults have casual sex ...I'm just saying you know eventually you need to settle down and-

Baja:I'm not.. I'm not..... I'm not having sex. I never had it

Hine:....…Well that's ok. Personally I waited to get married to-

Sibling: HA! VIRGIN!

Hine: Maui! What did I tell you about eavesdropping! Go!.............*sigh*....... Sweetheart..... I don't want to put pressure on you sweetie...... I just don't want you to be alone we're not good when we're alone... I want you to have a family

Baja: I'm not alone. I have a family. I have you and my siblings..........and Desmond I guess

Hine: we can't live forever honey you're going to need to find someone eventually.

Baja:................... alright..... I'll try to find someone...

Hine: I know you'll find someone there's someone out there for everyone including you sweetie....

Baja: ........ yeah.....l love you.... bye

Hine: I love you too

Baja:.....................danm

Hitch: we're filming in 15!

_______________________________________________

Bayou: this painting is a. Self-portrait of Joyce Veair she was our firat prime minister

Cirrina: wow... she's gorgeous she painted this herself

Bayou: Yes... She has so many paintings around the world. She even has one in Museum d'Alfonsino

Cirrina: really...... She's very talented.

Bayou: not only that, she was very intelligent and very outspoken....

Cirrina: what's this one

Bayou: this is a sculpture made entirely out of urchin spines it was made by tosh monui. Every month he'd shed his old spines. He would collect them and Stick them in a ball of wax until the ball was completely covered in spineies. After he'd take the rest to make a body, he would call them mace men because they look like maces with a body. He soon started to model them after cave drawings of primitive urchin

Cirrina: that's amazing....oh what's this one. This one is beautiful

Bayou: this one is called 'home'

Cirrina: it's a beautiful landscape....who is by?....... This piece was painted by One of the top students in krillarney School of arts and it's one of the youngest to be presented in This museum she has won several awards and has several nominations. We are privileged to have her in a museum This piece is called home by Bayou Ster..............wow same name as you

Bayou:.........ehehehehehe Cirrina. That's me this is my work.

Cirrina: oh..hehehe I'm stupid........ It's really nice. You're really talented....

Bayou: thank you.... This is one of my favorite paintings I used an old picture of my nan's old home.

Cirrina: I love the texture and the hills and trees. It's even in the river.... Do you have more paintings here?

Bayou: I have this big painting over here. This one took me a whole month to finish this one..... I rode the fairy everyday just to get the perfect reference for crashing waves

Cirrina: wow .. . it's amazing

Bayou: it's almost 6 do you want to get something to eat. We can go to Mrs Cuddles to get some fried cod and hush puppies

Mrs Cuddles: Harold, bring these pines to table 7!...

Bayou: hi Mrs Cuddles!

Mrs Cuddles: Bayou how are you darling, Cirrina! Ohhhh... You two hungry? Let me get you something Harold, drop two more cod in the fryer!!..... You to relax. I'll get you ladies some sodas while you wait

Bayou: thank you!

Cirrina: thanks............................................. So you're probably going to think I'm really dumb but for the past 3 days I thought you were a guy

Bayou:.............hehehehe Did you?.must be the tentacle cut huh?

Cirrina: hehehe... yeah...hehehe... I'm sorry.....

Bayou: If I'm being real here I don't identify with anything in particular...if you see me as a guy I don't mind it

Cirrina: if you don't identify as that I don't want to

Bayou: I see myself as everything and nothing, masculine and feminine and anything in-between. I really don't mind Cirrina

Cirrina: All right if you put it that way hehehe

Mrs Cuddles: here you go! Fresh cod and a large bag of hush puppies for the road!

Cirrina: thanks how much do I owe you?

Mrs Cuddles: nonsense it's on the house. Kiddies eat for free here. Once you reach the age to drink you have to pay

Cirrina: thanks Mrs Cuddles!....

_______________________________________________

Neta: *humming*...(Pat)..*humming*....(Pat)......

Ona:.........

Candi: *snoring*........*snoring*.......

Tv

Baja:What is music at midnight? Well as the names in the title says we're going to be talking about music and it's going to be airing during midnight.

Announcer: music at midnight a new late night talk show! Premieres tonight only on O.E.T!

Neta:.....*sigh*....... ikkan would love this show. .........me and him cuddling watching TV at midnight. Under a blanket surrounded by pillows...................... I miss him....

Ona: [baby noises]

Neta: yeah? You would like the show too Ona?

Bowie: what are you watching?

Neta: Bowie go back to bed. It's past your bedtime, go back upstairs with your mom

Bowie: but she snores too loud!

Neta: Bowie.. .... okay

Bowie: what's in this room?

Neta: noooo that's my daughter's room you can't go in there....let's sit down on the couch..... come on........(click).....why don't we watch 'Ollie? ...you like Ollie

Bowie: alright

Tv

[Music]........Mom!..[music].......Dad!.........[music].......Leo!......[music]...........OLLIE!

Bowie: hehe

Neta: you need to lay down. try to get some sleep before your dad picks you up. You start preschool soon, you need a proper sleep schedule.

Bowie: okay

Ona: [fussy baby noises]

Neta: you need to sleep too young lady ......

Ona [crying]

Neta: someone is hungry..... Come on baby girl. Let's get you something to eat and fresh dia-(gasp).....*sigh*..... I need to put a bell on you

Mahi: I need to finish my homework I won't be annoying I promise.

Neta: where's Baja should he be at home with you?

Mahi: He's at work... They're doing a test stream or something or whatever

Ona: [crying]

Neta:.......*sigh*... Alright ........ I have some left overs in the fridge if you want anything.... Can you watch Bowie? Just make sure he's sleeping or watching TV as long as he's quiet.....

Mahi: ......(typing) alright

Neta: come on Ona....

_______________________________________________

Cirrina: ..... that was pretty good

Bayou: Yes I go there every other Sunday....

Cirrina: I leave on Sunday.... Maybe I can get another one before I leave....... Is that a music store?

Bayou: The old music store? Ye.....you play an instrument?

Cirrina: I play the cello .... It's nothing impressive really..... Second chair trying to get first chair in high school

Bayou: wow I'd like to see you play

Cirrina: no...nooo I-I couldn't .... You were going to take me to the cafe

Bayou: come on... Let's go inside....... We have plenty of time

Cirrina: ehhhhhh ok..... ...

Bayou: excuse me do you have a Cello we can try out?

Employees: sure.....hol up...let meh jest.......unlock.....here ya are..... .

Bayou: here you go Cirrina

Cirrina: [playing Bach: Cello Suite No. 1]

Bayou: [clap]...[clap] ...wow brains and beauty

Cirrina: (blush)..........you don't mean that

Bayou: I do .... You really talented

Cirrina: hehehe.............

Bayou:................

Cirrina: It's getting dark. I need to go home.

Bayou: Yeah why don't I take you to the cafe and get something to go and I can walk you to the ferry....{takes hand}

Cirrina: I'd like that.

_______________________________________________

Candi: mmmmmmm.....*yawn*........*huff*........(Squeak).....hm?

Plushie

Recording: I believe in you and your strength to keep fighting

Candi: Demersal?....... Do they still give these out?.....(Squeeze)

Recording: sometimes bad things happen and they're out of our control. It wasn't your fault

Candi: Cod I hated this thing ........ alright where are my kids? .... I'm well rested and ready to go........hey Neta..(toss)...

Neta:...ow......... hey........(Pat).......(Pat)......(Pat)

Bowie: *sleeping*..........

Candi: thanks for watching the kids. Donn had to go back to work today...*yawn*...... just needed a break..

Neta: no problem

Candi: how's Ona doing?

Ona:*sleeping*.......

Neta: she's fine......

Candi: .. That's good.. .... why do you still have this thing?

Neta: it was a gift... I got it when I was a kid...I just can't give it away

Candi:............

Neta: What! Ok what did you do with yours?

Candi: I ripped out the voice box and gave it to Bowie. He then threw up on it so I threw it away. Kids...

Neta: yeah... I had an old blanket I used to wrap her in. One blowout later and it was in the trash

Candi: hehehehe... Don't you just love being a parent sometimes?

Neta: heheheh.... Don't tell her I told you that she would kill me.. hehehdhe

Mahi:.......guys

Candi: hi mahi..........

Mahi: hey

Candi: ....... Donn's outside I got to get going.... Neta do you mind?

Neta: *scooping up Bowie*....yeeep let's go.....

_______________________________________________

Cirrina: I really enjoyed this.. I had fun.

Bayou: I had fun too Cirrina. I really like you

Cirrina: I like you too ..........................

Bayou:...............

Cirrina:...........

Bayou:..........*leaning in*............[kiss].....

Cirrina: [kiss]........ Hehehe

Bayou: hehehehehe

Cirrina: (blush)..... I- I need to go....uh

Bayou: I'll text you.......[peck]

Cirrina: bye......

_______________________________________________

Neta: alright!! Drive safe!!!!.....*sigh*......... mahi go home.

Mahi: I just got here! And I'm not being annoying. Please can I stay just one more night please

Neta: No, I didn't sleep well last night and I just had to babysit two kids. Let me have my peace. You've been staying here for a week. You practically live here. I need to clean up, I need to do the dishes and vacuum the floor, laundry .. I need to clean out nibbles's box. I need to make this place look like I wasn't wallowing in my own loneliness. All right

Mahi: you can do that when I'm here. It's not going to bother you

Neta: mahi goooooo home.....

Mahi: please can I say one more night please? I won't complain about the couch

Neta: no..... good bye

Mahi: but my apartment is quiet. You complain about wallowing in your loneliness. What about me you don't think I'm wallowing

Neta: get a pet or something ... (SLAM)

Mahi: (bang).....(bang)...... Where do I get a pet

Neta:AAAAAAAAAHHHH........*sigh*.. . . You can stay. This is your last night here. Tomorrow I will take you to the pet store after work pick out whatever you want and leave me alone..

Mahi: thanks Neta!

_______________________________________________

@fish-at-fish-fish-resort mahi go home

[valley-of-the-lily]

Black so it matches with the monochrome Zelda widgets and apps.

My Lock Screen is like 10 different Zelda pixel art that switches between them whenever you turn on and off your phone though.

you can tell a lot about someone based on their phone background. it shows what’s most important to them

[dresshistorynerd]

Historically Accurate Jasmine

Another remake! I remade Jasmine for my series of "Historically Accurate" Disney Princesses. I honestly don't like the first version of Jasmine I made five years ago. It's not well drawn, I don't like the design, it doesn't look Jasmine and I incoherently mixed elements from different time periods. I also made some embarrassing blunders in history while explaining my thought process, since back then I was much less familiar with the history of Middle East and India. So I definitely wanted to redo her.

I do like Aladdin a lot, but let's be real, it's a very Orientalist film. Orientalism is the colonial lens through which the west looks at Asia and North-Africa, or the so called "Orient". It's dehumanizing and fetishistic lens - the west at the same time despises and covets the "Oriental" body. The "Orient" is flattened as one single entity and it's all savage and exotic, backward and mystical. Orientalism is fueled by jealousy and entitled superiority. In Aladdin it's very visible in how the setting blends a lot of very different Asian cultures, flattening large parts of a very diverse continent. It's set in sandy desert, but a lot of the elements of dress especially are much more Indian in aesthetic. Certainly fitted bodices and exposed stomachs are not practical clothes in a desert climate. The characters too are frequently exotised and fetishised with most female characters including Jasmine dressed and posed to appeal to the colonial gaze that covets brown bodies. Jasmine is sexualised much more that any of the white Disney princesses.

Originally the story was going to be more focused, though I can't imagine it ever lacking in Orientalism. It was supposed to be set in Baghdad, but during the production the First Gulf War happened, so they tried to distance it from the original Iraqi setting by setting it to the fictional city of Agrabah. Would there have been less Indian elements? Probably. It is pointed that in the wake of American forever wars in the Middle East, to not cause a stir Disney elected to make the movie more Orientalist. Orientalism was the inoffensive option.

Deciding on the historical setting to ground the redesign in was not simple considering the mess that the movie's setting is. One Thousand And One Nights is a collection (or many collections) of Islamic folktales from Northern Africa to Central and South Asia. So India (especially Mughal India ruled by Muslim dynasty) wouldn't be an incorrect setting and certainly neither would Middle East. The problem is that the film seems to imply there's no meaningful difference. Rather than trying figure out what is the most fitting place and time period for the film, I looked to the origins of the story of Aladdin. Apparently Aladdin’s story was added to One Thousand And One Hundred Nights by a French translator in 1709. He got the story from a Syrian-born Maronite storyteller, Hanna Diyab, who might have come up with the story himself. Most of Syria (at least Aleppo where he was born) was at the time part of Safavid dynasty Persia, so I decided to set my version of Jasmine in 17th century Persia.

I basically based the design on the illustration from 1702-3 by Mu'in Musavvir first below. The more fitted and tailored style with wider skirt likely influenced by European fashion it represents became fashionable in mid 17th century, so it still fits the time period I'm aiming at. The colour is simply perfect for Jasmine and I really like the overall desing. I did look at other art as well to get a better understanding on how the cut of the dress works, so here's couple o more references: second one is "Two Lovers with a Servant Woman" from 1696 by Mu'in Musavvir as well, third and fourth are details from paintings in the Chehel Stoun palace in Isfahan from 1646. Eyebrows grown together was considered especially beautiful feature so of course I gave Jasmine brows like that.

I of course gave her a crown, since she's a princess and depictions of Safavid princesses seem to always have a crown. I found that usually in art women had a white veil with their crown which is why I made her veil white, even though with the scarf band, which was the more typical headwear for women, colourful veils seemed to have been much more popular at the time. The veils in 17th century were also very long. For the crown and jewelry I wasn't as concerned to be using references from mid to late 17th century specifically, since these tend to change slower than other fashions. I based the crown mostly on the first illustration below from c. 1600 by Muhammad-Sharif Musawwir of a Seated Princess and the earrings on the second illustration from c. 1540 by Mirza ‘Ali of a Seated Princess with a Spray of Flowers.

Most of the images I found on this very useful blog which had gathered A LOT of Persian illustrations and paintings in handy timeline. A lot of the information of Safavid fashion I got from this MET Museum write up by Nazanin Hedayat Munroe.

[lovscb97]

railway (b.cc.) ༉‧₊˚.

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ TRACK 001: part of the step out series

synopsis: you didn’t mean to get tied up with your best friend’s ex-boyfriend, but sometimes all you can do is hold on tight for the rough ride ahead of you, even if it means going against all the pre-written rules of friendship.

tags: best friend's ex!bangchan x fem!reader, angst, forbidden romance, mutually toxic relationship, morally grey characters, chan and reader are both kind of awful, mention of other idols (rest of stray kids, stayc, enhypen, etc), oc as chan's ex-girlfriend (aeri), mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, use of nicknames (baby, darling, etc), very brief pussy slapping, possessiveness, mild dacryphilia, car sex, fingering, sir kink, squirting, jealousy, slight exhibitionism, bathroom sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, degradation (bitch, slut, etc), dirty talk, very brief mention of strength kink, mirror sex, breeding kink, creampie, brief choking, slight overstimulation, etc

theme board: www.pin.1003 / song link: prod:b.cc

wc: 7.85k

add. notes: welcome 2 the first course >:] i've offered my insights n analysis on railway alr but delving into the meaning of the song n creating a whole fic based off of it was very intriguing for me esp cus i don't usually write based off of music i listen to. i knew i wanted smth wrong to put out but i don't like infidelity n the usual story on toxic situations is tough to pull of so i decided to go down the more 'scandalous' route of sorts n make chan ur best friend's ex instead :3 there's a pinterest board i made for all these fics which for this one u can find linked above to grasp the aesthetics of it n i'd recommend reading this while listening to railway ofc. as always plz make sure u watch out for the tags n dni if ur a minor. also sidenote but aeri (the oc) is not meant to be seen as giselle from aespa but rather i just used that name bcs it's pretty lol just thought i'd lyk that. either way i hope u all enjoy! 

. . .

19:23 PM from: dni!!! Wyd? 

you swallow thickly at the sight of the text which lights up your screen, eyes zeroed in on the simple three letters which still hold thousands of words worth of meaning in themselves when combined. if it weren’t for the rubber case at the back, you reckon you would’ve dropped your phone with how instantly sweaty your palms become upon having received the message. the way you’re staring at your app, maybe even enough to bore holes into the words displayed back at you, doesn't go unnoticed either, and you barely manage to pocket the device as quick as you'd pulled it out just in time as your best friend approaches you. 

“everything okay? you look kinda pale.” aeri frowns once she’s in front of you, voice laced with concern so sweet that it almost makes bile rise up your throat as you attempt to lean back against jake’s kitchen counter to stabilise yourself. she doesn’t seem to buy the eventual shaky nodding of your head that you offer after realising she’d just asked you something that required an answer, but even if she wants to probe you further, she doesn’t, deciding to immerse you in conversation about something your other friends had told her; another one of her gossip sessions with yoon and jungwon, you presume.

her storytelling fades into background noise at some point, for you can’t ignore the heavy weight of the object tucked away in the back of your skirt pocket, still incessantly burning and buzzing with notifications you know you shouldn’t pay half a mind to. you’re well aware that they’re all most likely from the same person; the one individual you shouldn’t and have no right to indulge and mix with to this day; whose bedsheets you’ve found yourself tangled up in late at night alongside dirty noises slipping past both your lips; the very man who remains as sin personified in the storyline of your current life, and honestly might stay that way for as long as you live.

or in other words, aeri’s ex-boyfriend, chan.

your best friend met chan in her final year of university, bumping into him on chance encounter outside her lecture hall and exchanging textbooks by accident. chan had been all smiles when she’d invited him to lunch as an apology for the mix up, often tagging along with her after that until soon enough, they grew close enough and began seeing each other romantically. he seemed to treat her well for the most part, and you were happy for aeri that she’d found a good man worth her time and effort in the world. she’d drag you with her on their outings one too many times, and you’d gotten to know him from those instances, finding him to be a decent match for her.

unfortunately, all good things come to an end, and the spark between them started dwindling. you’re not sure what exactly happened, only able to recall bits and pieces from what aeri had told you mid-sob on your calls about her previous lover slowly becoming distant nearing the final stages of their relationship, so you’ve always just thought it was a mutual decision to cut ties for the betterment of each other. according to her vividly detailed breakdowns though, chan had been the one to suggest calling it off first, and everything came to a screeching halt three years down the line with much screaming and tears from her side. to an extent, their split did shake up things a little between all your mutual friends, but it also didn’t fully stop everybody from engaging with each other. all this brings you to your current situation— waiting in jake’s apartment for the rest of your friends to arrive for a random party he’d decided to plan on a whim.

“yo, guys!” speak of the devil, you think, tugging yourself out of your thoughts as you turn your body to let jake’s figure come into view. he beams at you like a big puppy, his hair flopping in a way that loosely resembles dog ears, and you remember after a split second that that’s just how your friend is referred to as in your group; the resident golden retriever. he parades up to you and aeri as one too, his vibrant smile lighting up the atmosphere in a way that you can’t stop relief from flooding your system at his presence.

“how are my favourite girls doing this fine evening?” he smirks, his usual flirting the same as always, causing aeri to roll her eyes as you chuckle. “har har up yours, sim.” she sticks her tongue out, prompting jake to do the same as he ruffles her hair, to which she shrieks. “oh, by the way,” jake perks up as if he’s just thought of something, completely ignoring your best friend smacking him on the arm lightly over his actions. “y/n, would you be so kind as to get the pack of beer from my car?” he pleads, doe eyes twinkling under the light of the room. 

you’re about to groan in protest, not wanting to go back out in the cold and freeze your ass off for a measly few cans of alcohol, but the front door swinging open accompanied by the all too familiar voice you’ve grown acquainted to fills the air, making your stomach drop— chan. chan is here. suddenly, you’re not too opposed to getting far away, and you quickly nod your head rapidly in agreement, not bothering to wait for the way jake lights up at you accepting his proposal before snatching the keys from his hold and darting towards the lift. 

chan’s jaw tightens at this. he barely manages to catch a glimpse of you from how you rush out past him, not even able to take in your outfit or face in the dashing haze you leave in. he points his thumb to where you had exited, bluffing something about helping you when jake responds how you’d gone out to grab the load of drinks he’d been too lazy to heave upstairs himself. nobody makes any work to question him when he turns on his heel to catch the elevator himself, thinking nothing of his usual gentleman-like behaviour.

nobody except for a pair of eyes lingering on his disappearing frame that neither one of the visitors in the house manages to grasp onto.

meanwhile, you quickly find yourself in the outdoor parking lot of jake’s building, hugging your shivering body tightly in an effort to warm yourself up against the chilling wind that blows past the trees. the sky has basically turned dark by now, but the streetlamps hanging overhead on the sides of the pavement serve as enough illumination to carry out your task. your breath comes out in heavy smoke to the point you can see it, and you try your best to spot your friend’s car as soon as possible, cheering internally when you manage to do so. after having jogged on over to it, you enter the key into the trunk lock with trembling fingers, twisting it until that same latch you’ve grown used to feeling with your own vehicle opens and makes way for you to push up the boot lid. 

you’re about to hook underneath to manoeuvre it open, that is, until a sudden cold hand tugs on the bare skin of your arm, making you jump out of your own flesh. you open your mouth to yell out loud, ready to alert your friends a few floors upstairs that someone is trying to kidnap you potentially when that same hand clamps over it. only when your vision stabilises in your dimly lit surroundings do you recognise chan in front of you, and you feel your shoulders physically drop as you put down your defences, glaring at him when he removes himself.

“why the hell would you sneak up on me like that? i—“

“are you avoiding me?”

his question comes out gruff and annoyed, causing you to blink at the way he’s glowering at you in suspicion. his arms are crossed against his chest, hiding the black button-up you’ve seen him wearing and committed to memory one too many times from how it clings perfectly onto his chiselled shoulders and biceps. it makes you gulp, but you attempt to hide your affected reaction anyways, delivering a scoff in his direction which only makes chan grit his teeth at your attitude. “so what if i am? you know damn well either way without needing me to spell it out for you.” you bite back, moving to turn around when he catches you by the elbow, leaving you to scowl at him.

“what’s gotten into you? just a few days ago, we were fine, yet now you’re ignoring my texts?” he narrows his eyes, holding you in place so you can’t budge away from him. you let out a faint tch at his words, more so at your own susceptibility to succumb to his advances, but chan tongues the side of his cheek after assuming you’re just being blatantly disrespectful towards him. his voice drops to a lower, seductive tone as he speaks up again. “need me to remind you again? you came over last saturday and humped my thigh before squirting on my tong— hmph!“ 

“god, yes, i fucking remember, okay?” you exclaim in a whisper after having slapped a hand over his mouth this time, eyes darting around frantically to make sure no one heard that. “could you be any more louder? jesus christ.” chan peels you off of him shortly afterwards, his expression souring at the way you address him. something about the anger in his features makes your own rise, and you feel any or all remorse you'd experienced prior to seeing him in person today vanish, replaced with a bubbling hatred of sorts.

you and chan began your weird affiliation with one another around two months ago, exactly a few days after he and your best friend broke up. to this day, you don’t know why he made a move on you, much less why you yourself reciprocated it. sure, you’d always found him objectively attractive when he and aeri were together, and while he may be your exact match of an ideal type to a tee, you would never think to act on the growing tension you experienced for him, especially when he was in a long term commitment with the closest person in the world to you. 

it all happened in the most random of occurrences too. you still remember meeting him the night you were out at the convenience store to run errands, catching him hunched over a table in a hoodie and messy hair with two bottles of soju in front. he’d flashed you a polite smile and offered to drink together, which realistically, you should’ve declined. you should’ve turned the other way in disgust and walked out on him to tell your best friend what he’d attempted to do, regardless of whether that would’ve led to something or not. instead, you found yourself in his bed that day, moaning his name as he ravished you under the moonlight streaming through his curtains in your combined drunken craze.

the next morning had been full of hiccuped cries, chan cradling you in his arms despite the scalding touch of his hold gnashing against you and leaving metaphorical imprints that you would never be able to scrub off. each time he soothed you, rubbing your back and kissing your hair, you felt the waves of guilt wash over harsher than the last. he continued to reassure you throughout anyways, telling you it’d be okay and that no one would have to know. blindly, you’d believed him, promising yourself and him to never act on either of your arbitrary lust by not letting go of your inhibitions.

that was the first lie you told yourself. 

“y’know, i’m really not a fan of this whole backtalk towards me.” chan criticises, and you laugh bitterly after picking up on his audible disappointment as it hits your ears. “see? there it is again. maybe i’ve gotta teach you some manners, hm?” his tone is sultry once more, leaving you fighting the urge to flush under his gaze. you ultimately lose though, wanting nothing more than to punch him in the face with the way he snickers at your cheeks reddening crimson. instead, you try retain the little dignity you have left as you push against his chest, scanning your parameters with paranoia when he steps closer to you.

“we can’t.” you mumble, clearly slipping. chan’s only response to that is a breathless huff, warm against your face as you peer up at him through your lashes, finally getting a good look at him. he’s wearing his signature hoop earrings today, hair brushed down so his bangs fall over his forehead. the collar of that same dress shirt he’s got on is popped despite a few buttons being undone, leaving the styling choice to highlight his collarbone. that same milky skin you’ve ghosted your nails over multiple times hides underneath the black fabric, leaving you to shiver at the memories of it. it also doesn’t help that the way he towers you is sending your mind reeling into submission way too easily, and you only manage to shake out of it when his fingers trail down to wrap around your wrist, allowing you to feel the cold metal of a ring you recognise all too well press into your joint—

the same half of a promise ring you’d helped him pick out for aeri a year ago.

the realisation that he’s still wearing it hits, and combined with the once again forming shame in the back of your head, it all makes you want to shove him away in favour of storming out of here to tell your best friend everything once and for all. a part of you can sense undue jealousy simmering inside at the fact that he’s still got a piece of her with him too, something you know you have no right to feel, but you try ignore it to your best ability. “chan, we can’t.” you repeat with a hitch in your breath, more so for yourself than him. and yet, you don’t even believe your own words, finding the less rational and weak side of you surrendering to the temptation chan tantalises in you; it overshadows whatever morality you have left.

“d’you really want me to stop?” he breathes out, body sagging far too close into yours for it to be friendly, although you suppose none of your interactions since starting this scandalous relationship have ever been that. his fingers, the very same ones bearing the ring on them, move to wrap around your throat, forcing you to tilt your head up and lock eyes with him. goosebumps prick your skin when you catch sight of the way his gaze is hooded, orbs swirling with black desire he’s begun to reserve only for you in these coming weeks. “because, if you want me to stop, i will.” chan points out. “say the word and i’ll turn around. out of sight, out of mind.” he makes a statement out of it by retracting his hand from you, but the very distinct whine you let out is all the confirmation he needs to press his mouth to yours.

kissing chan always feels like playing with fire. it scorches, and singes, and sears, reducing you to a burnt crisp, yet you can’t help but yearn for the flame he ignites in you. even the way he’s clutching onto you now, pressing forward with a fervour only you bring out in him, has his lips moulding against your cherry stained ones despite not fitting as perfectly as you’d want them to. the two of you are by no means a compatible match for each other; neither of you has made a single good decision ever since you began indulging in whatever you’ve got going on, but you also can’t help but crave the scandalous nature of everything. you’re truly a despicable pair, you think.

“get in the car.” chan’s voice cuts through your thoughts when he pulls away. he doesn’t even give you time to think when he walks over and opens the door, gesturing inside to the warm confines of the backseat. ideally, you shouldn’t, you know you shouldn’t, but alas, you’ve never been one to listen to yourself, instead finding your legs scrambling and following suit to shuffle into jake’s vehicle before the weight of your actions even sinks in. chan’s hot on your trail too, and before you can even get comfortable in the cramped space, he’s returning to making out with you, fingers roaming greedily around the expanse of your skin. 

“t-they’ll know we’re gone.” you stutter, moving your face out of his reach to try and stop chan’s movements when it finally dawns on you that your friends had sent you out on an errand you’d taken far too long to complete by now. chan’s only response is to grunt though, tugging you back in for another smouldering kiss that knocks the wind out of your lungs. his hands grasp, pinch, and squeeze whatever part of you they can, until he’s finally decided that he’s had enough foreplay, opting to cage you underneath him and hike up the tight, red dress that’s adorning your body for today’s occasion. “i’ll be quick. i always am.” he winks, and you’re too far gone now to understand that he’s responding to your previous comment, a fact that only makes him chuckle.

“wore this to tease me, yeah?” chan clicks his tongue at the way he has to practically peel off the bottom half of your clothing, the snug fit of the fabric around your curves leaving nothing to the imagination as he bites his lip. he debates whether he’s glad you chose this outfit to show off for him, or if that pisses him off because it means everybody gets an eyeful of your figure; he decides on the latter. “wanted to slut yourself out for my attention? all you had to do was ask, baby.” you shake your head with a whimper, and he raises an eyebrow at your reaction. “d-didn’t.. didn’t wear it for you.” you manage to breathe out, which proves to be the wrong answer because next thing you know, his hand is coming down to smack your clothed core.

you yelp at the sting of his actions, teary eyes blinking up at him in a way that makes chan’s boxers tighten. he’s so close to losing his composure, but he holds back for your sake, not wanting to let you see his cool slip. “is that so? i guess you’re just a dirty girl then.” he sneers, yanking down your soaked panties in one swift motion, leaving you to gasp as the cool air hits your sticky folds.

chan wastes not even one second, knobby digits dragging through the wetness he’s not surprised to find whatsoever. he spreads it over your clit, getting you messier than you already are, especially from the way you appear to leak even more arousal from his movements. he touches you until you’re twitching under his hold, biting back the sounds that threaten to escape you, which seems to be a fact he doesn’t approve of from the way he pinches your nub between his fingers; you cry out softly from the rush of stimulation it shoots through you. “eyes on me.” chan growls, sliding his hand down to circle your oozing hole before he’s abruptly shoving two fingers inside.

“fuck.” you moan this time, loud and clear. this seems to satisfy him, seeing as he rewards you with a steady pump of his digits thrusting into your heat. his speed in fingering you increases quickly, and it isn’t long before he’s scissoring you open, the sloppy sounds of your juices slicking up his fingers and echoing in the stuffy space of jake’s car. you’re probably staining the leather of the seats, but neither you nor chan seem to care about that right now, not when he’s knuckle deep inside your wet cunt and you’re making such pretty noises all for him.

“just filthy, aren’t ya? getting finger fucked in the back of your friends car. i bet your dumb little brain can’t even understand what i’m saying right now.” chan mocks, his tone laced with a level of condescension that only makes you buck your hips up to chase his movements. you know he’s completely right too, because the way he’s thrusting his digits inside you, stroking your warm walls with the tips of them has you seeing stars to the point you can’t even respond back something snarky in return. “all you’re good for is being a nasty toy for sir’s use, hm?” you barely even register his question, only remembering you need to answer him when he pulls his wet hand away to smack you once more, this time over your swollen bundle of nerves.

“y-yes, sir. only a toy for you. jus’ you.” you mindlessly slur out, and chan groans at that. not even a moment passes before he’s sinking his fingers back inside you, curling them up to massage that rough spot which always has you clenching down on him. his expression twists to a smug one when you jerk forward instantly. bingo, he thinks. “that’s that spot there, yeah? the one that has you losing yourself on me?” he coos, but his voice drips with a smidge of venom you can’t quite fixate on just yet. instead, you nod dumbly, spasming around him as you try grind upwards to chase the rising sensation of your climax. 

chan leans into your frame, one hand splayed flat onto jake’s backseat above your head to maintain his balance whilst his body hovers over you. by now, your eyes are clenched shut, but he can’t even find it in him to get mad at you over that, not when you’re dribbling down his wrist and mewling so pretty under the glow of the night as he works you towards your orgasm. “c’mon, baby. cum f’me. wanna see you cum so pretty for sir.” he encourages, jaw locked with concentration. 

it only takes about one or two flicks of his expertly trained thumb pressing on your puffy clit, combined with the pads of his fingers hitting your g-spot with terrifying accuracy, before you’re shuddering through your climax. a small, clear stream of liquid sprays out the sides of where he’s got you plugged up, and he pulls his hand away in favour of rubbing you over to coax out the last remnants of your high. your quivering body thrashes when he tries to draw out the remaining few droplets again, weakly bringing your arm up to push him away gently when the shocks of overstimulation begin to take over. chan dips down to place one, final kiss on your lips, smooching down to your chin as a way to say you did well. his actions make you heart beat out of your chest, but you don’t say anything about the domesticity of them. 

you wonder if he ever treated aeri like this after having been intimate with her.

“go in first. i’ll clean up the car.” chan clears his throat after a short while, not daring to make eye contact with you as he quietly pulls your underwear back up your legs. you watch in silence while he sits up, looking for a rag to fix the mess you two made when that same awkward air you’ve gotten used to facing with him enters the atmosphere, leaving you to try and ignore how it tugs at the strings of your soul as you give a curt nod. “don’t forget the beer.” you remind him before swinging the door open to step outside, finding yourself back in the nipping cold of the winter night.

you try and stand on your wobbly legs to straighten out the creases of your dress, paying no mind to the way your skin echoes with the ghost of chan’s previous touch. behind you, you can hear him rolling down the windows to let the musky smell of sex out of jake’s backseat, and you almost dare to sneak a glance back until deciding against it, knowing it’ll just hurt more. instead, you close your eyes and take a deep breath, opening them to land on the small balcony of your friend’s apartment where the rest of your group seems to have already gathered from the silhouettes you can see through the foggy glass. your conscience feels heavy with the weight of the knowledge that aeri is up there too, but you brush it off, just like all the other times you have.

i didn’t do anything wrong, you tell yourself, i’m still in the clear. that’s the second lie you’ve tried to believe in these last two months. a long sigh escapes your lips at that realisation, but you bite it down when making your way back inside the building, choosing to rack your brain on what shitty excuse you’ll have to provide this time for being gone so long.

. . .

to your surprise, nobody bothers to question why either you or chan disappeared, simply whisking you back in conversation about unrelated topics when you walk in through the door a few minutes before him. as per usual, your heart still feels heavy when you watch aeri laugh at something heeseung and sieun are arguing over, but you cover it up by letting out a noise of amusement yourself, hoping it throws off any suspicion that might be directed your way. you don’t bother turning your head upon hearing jake’s delight at the sight of chan entering his apartment with the very much requested pack of beer too, deciding to force a smile at whatever point heeseung is busy making over looking back no matter how much your body itches to do so.

it’s even worse how from the corner of your eye, you can see aeri shifting uncomfortably on her feet at her ex-boyfriend’s second arrival, her expression dropping in the slightest so as to not draw attention to herself, but it’s still enough for you to notice. it only makes the weight of your actions dawn on you further, and you can’t help but let your mind wander as to what she’d say if she knew what truly went on behind closed doors. despite your best efforts to bury those thoughts beneath you though, you know there’s nothing you can do to make amends to the problems you’ve created yourself. after all, you’ve got to reap what you sow.

the party continues to kick in on full swing after that, with you and aeri both doing your best to keep your distances from chan for all too different reasons. it doesn’t help that you can feel someone’s stare raking across your figure throughout the duration of the evening, and when you finally do decide to sneak a glance in that direction with expectations of finding chan ogling you over, you’re met with a different answer—

for it isn’t you he’s busy looking at, but rather your best friend that’s been glued to your side since the beginning of the night. 

he averts his gaze as quick as he’d cast it when you catch him, seamlessly blending back in discussion with whatever nonsense changbin is rambling about this time, acting like he hadn’t just been getting an eyeful of his ex-girlfriend moments prior. you also don’t miss how he fiddles with the old ring that adorns his right hand, long fingers twisting it around the middle digit in a way that’s reminiscent of his past behaviour, or at least based on what you’d often find him doing back then. 

his actions spark a memory deep from the confines of your brain, one you wish you hadn’t remembered as the vision of chan asking you to help pick out promise rings for him and aeri crosses your mind. it was raining heavily that day, but he’d insisted that the two of you go out in secret anyways so he could buy his then girlfriend a token of his love and appreciation. he’d claimed you knew her taste the best and could therefore help in selecting a better possible gift for their upcoming anniversary than he ever could. 

you’d hesitantly agreed, and although you weren’t sure how it would all play out, you later found yourself sharing an umbrella and visiting various jewellery stores to point out all the designs you knew your closest friend would adore. chan had settled soon on a matching pair for the two of them, beaming in your direction with a bright smile that left you weak in the knees despite however much you tried to hide it. a few days later, aeri excitedly showed off her own silver band to you, buzzing about how he’d chosen the perfect present that she couldn’t wait to replace with a real one in their future; you couldn’t help then but think if he ever told her it was all your idea instead of his.

“hey, can you hold my phone?” your best friend’s voice cuts through your inner replay, and you blink in a daze to find her facing you, expression innocent. “hyunjin asked to play beer pong, and i don’t have any pockets to put it away in safely.” she explains at your confused face, but all you can do is nod as you robotically outstretch your arm to take it off of her. unfortunately or fortunately, that’s when you notice it—

the same matching ring on her hand.

aeri doesn’t pay you any attention when she drops off her device into your awaiting palm, not even realising you’re zeroed in on the jewellery that decorates her left hand with a fire burning in your eyes that you’re both ignorant of. you don’t stop gaping even when felix shakes your shoulder, asking you what you’re so fixated on before leaving you be under the impression that you’re probably just drunk out of your head. meanwhile, you’re still frozen in place, everything around you seeming to slow down.

why is chan wearing a ring he bought for his ex-girlfriend two years ago to a party he knows she’s going to be at? no, why does said ex-girlfriend also have her matching pair of the ring on her hand at a party she too is aware he’s going to be present for? much less, why are either of them hung up on each other to the point they’re carrying around reminders of their past relationship with one another? you know the answer to all these questions, but you don’t wish to sit and delve into them in fear you might throw up at the conclusion they’ll give you. instead, all you can do is squeeze the can of seltzer you’d spiked in your hand dangerously tight out of unwanted emotion, enough for some of the liquid inside to spill out. you can’t be bothered to care about it though, just like how you can’t be bothered to care about how anybody in their right mind could probably see you gawking at chan right now.

you watch as he cracks up at a joke seungmin makes, his head falling back in a fit of laughter you’ve been a happy witness or recipient of multiple times, yet this time it fills you with emotion that you don’t wish to identify in fear it’d mean something more than what you’re capable of confronting right now. even so, you can’t stop the train of questions invading your thoughts at the view in front of you. did he laugh like that with aeri? smile so wide with her? couldn’t help the joy that spread across due to her presence? maybe that’s why he came today, because he couldn’t take his mind off of her, especially seeing as he was wearing a symbol of their time spent before right now. 

but, what does that say about you in this picture? were you just a scapegoat to escape all those feelings for him? had you been one this entire time, only deluding yourself into thinking what you both had translated into a situation deeper and could potentially progress into one even more had things happened under different circumstances? the more you think, the more you feel nauseous, and you can’t stop yourself from diverting your gaze to where your best friend is, observing her concentrated face as she attempts to aim a ping pong ball into one of the lined up solo cups. your eyes involuntarily flicker to the ring on her finger once more, its evident shimmer reflecting in the light causing you to clutch your drink tighter. 

you’re not a jealous person by any means. you know your boundaries, hence you know chan isn’t yours. he isn’t an object you can own, and neither are you to him. that was the unspoken agreement you both nodded on when you got into this entire ordeal— you’re both free to see other people openly in front of aeri as long as it’s not each other, because the latter you manage in secret despite the shame that surges in you two upon doing so. it doesn’t matter if you wish to stake your claim on him, to see the marks you leave on him evident on his skin the next morning for him to show off other girls who think they stand a chance at him taking them to bed. it doesn’t matter how much your heart aches when you wake up to the blanket strewn aside from his absence, the sheets long gone cold to indicate that he’d left hours ago. it doesn’t matter how much you wish to cling onto his arm in public and profess your.. feelings for him in front of everyone else.

it simply doesn’t matter, it never did. chan’s never been yours, and he never will be anytime soon.

20:51 PM from: Myself meet me at the upstairs bathroom in five

you punch in the message before you can even think, watching it turn from delivered to read in a matter of seconds. the three dots next to chan’s side of texts appear, indicating that he’s typing, but you choose to lock your device rather than waiting like a dog to see him reply. instead, your feet lead you to your designated location, taking one step at a time leisurely as opposed to in a rush so as to not draw unwanted attention to yourself. right as you reach the door handle, your phone pings with a familiar ringtone.

20:52 PM from: dni!!! Reacted with “👍🏻” to your message

you sigh. tonight was going to be a long night.

. . .

skin slapping. heavy panting. low grunting. 

that’s all you can hear from where you’re splayed across the sink in the small confines of jake’s bathroom, aside from the occasional thumping of music booming from downstairs. if you strain your ear enough, you’ll be able to make out the lyrics to the cliche song that’s come up on shuffle, but you honestly lack the mentality to care about that right now, especially considering the way chan has your legs pushed apart in favour of drilling his length into you. each thrust is rapid and fervent in nature, seeming to knock the wind out of your lungs to the point you don’t even realise how loud you’re being until his hand comes up to shove two fingers in your mouth. “be fucking quiet.” he sneers, leaving you to drool everywhere. the only reaction he spares when you try muffle out an apology is a sickening smirk at that too. 

“needed this, didn’t you, slut? always need to be filled with some cock like a bitch in heat.” chan chuckles, but there’s a dark edge to his voice that sends shivers crawling up your spine. he presses down on your tongue with the pads of his fingers, and you can’t stop the garbling of spit choking past your lips from the way his thickness nestles deep inside you. each heavy drag of his dick against your rough walls leaves you clenching and attempting to buck your hips forward, but you can’t even manage that with the grip he has on your waist. the mere idea that all chan really needs to restrain you is the simple strength of his one hand sends your mind reeling, so much so that you don’t even realise he’s speaking to you until the hand that was previously in your mouth pulls out to slap light and wet against your cheek.

“i asked you a question, whore.” chan growls, the sound resonating warm within your stomach despite the mean undertone to it as his movements still. you blink up at him in confusion at this point, doe eyes brimming with tears that threaten to spill from the loss of pleasure in a way that has chan damn near finishing. it doesn’t help that he’s buried to the hilt currently, hissing painfully at how you squeeze down on him in involuntary instinct. for a split second, you swear you see the ridges on his face soften, and the manner in which he looms over you feels filled with more comfort than intimidation, but that smidge of emotion vanishes as soon as it arrives. “i said,” chan’s tongue swipes over his bottom lip. “do you wanna get caught?” you rapidly shake your head no at that, and chan cocks his head to the side.

“oh, really?” he muses, nails sliding over to dig into the supple flesh of your thigh, making you whine out loud. “‘cause with the way you’re making so much noise like that, i’d have assumed the opposite.” with a click of his tongue, his actions resume. luckily, all that escapes you is a loud gasp this time, an anxious clamp of your palm over your mouth barely covering up the rest of your lewdity. you wish so desperately to refute, to plead him in favour of slowing down and having some mercy, but the sensation of his bulbous cockhead slamming roughly into that one spot only sends stars in your vision and prevents your previous desires. 

your body jerks in chan’s hold even more when his same hand still lubed with your saliva finds it way between where you’re connected, leaving you to suppress a pathetic whimper that longs to bubble out of your throat as he presses the tips of his fingers to your swollen clit. his touch is harsh, filled with an overwhelming need to make you burst at the seams, but the fear that lingers in the back of your head refuses to let you fall apart so easily, not when aeri is barely a flight of stairs from your vicinity. chan decides he isn’t fond of the silence you’re giving him though, pulling out with a quiet mumble for you to get down and face the mirror. he sheaths himself back in just as quickly, setting an unforgiving pace from the seemingly more accessible position, and this time, you really can’t stop the long drawn out moan that escapes you. 

“j-just like that, yeah, baby? all those filthy noises are just for me, aren’t they?” he sounds more delirious this time, presumably drunk off the essence of this situation from the possessive gibberish he’s spouting, just like he always does in the heat of the moment. unfortunately for you, you’re no better than him, nodding furiously in agreement as you babble high-pitched and breathy. “so good, sir! s-so, so fucking good, feels so good! wan’ cum f’you, p-please. ‘m a good girl, please lemme cum, please, please, please.” small stutters spew out of you mid-sentence, but neither of you can be bothered by them, too wrapped up in the throes of all-consuming passion and contempt even to register what’s being said. 

“such a nasty, nasty girl.. getting fucked by your best friend’s ex. don’t you feel a-any shame?” chan groans almost wearily in midst of his lust-filled haze, eyes catching yours from the reflection of the mirror that’s displaying you getting absolutely wrecked right now. the sight of you so fucked up and in bliss, no coherent thought visible by the looks of your dazed expression and tongue halfway lolling out— it all has him burning with hot, rampant hunger. hunger for you, hunger to claim you. “look at yourself.” he rasps, fingers clutching at your chin to force you into meeting where he is. “look how dirty you are, fuck. what would she say about you wrapped so warm and snug around my cock? hm? think we should— ah. think we should call her in and find out?” 

the tears that were brewing in your waterline are streaming down your face by now, horrifically mimicking the disgusting manner in your wetness seeping and dripping down chan’s balls. you feel awful. downright terrible and tainted, forever branded by the searing touch of chan’s skin grazing against yours because that’s what you are, that’s what you have been for the past two months. down from the night you let him lead you into his sheets, following the countless occasions you found yourself returning there, and finally falling to now, your underwear strewn across the tiles of jake’s bathroom as you spread your legs for the same man who broke your best friend’s heart; the same man who you’ve let into yours after very consciously disregarding the repercussions of your actions. 

you’re truly a loathsome piece of work.

“think she’d like to watch me fill this pussy up? watch me shoot my load deep inside you over and over again until i’m sure it’s taken?” chan mutters, hot breath fanning against your sweaty neck. “maybe i should breed this stupid cunt full of my seed and send you back out there with it spilling past your legs. that way, every time you sit down, you’ll feel it inside you.” the mental image of his release lodged in your walls as you’re surrounded by all your friends, surrounded by the one person you’ve both been hiding from, all of them oblivious to the way he’s staked his claim on you except for the shared knowledge between you two and you two only— it has you quivering to the point you physically keen in his hold. chan, however, just laughs sadistically at your reaction. 

“you’ll feel it as a reminder of me, yeah? a reminder that you’re just as terrible as me. coming to me to get this slutty cunt stuffed even though you know you shouldn’t.” he continues to whisper. “after all, it takes two to tango, darling.” chan makes it a point to tilt his hips up in an effort to ensure his mushroom tip hits your g-spot with precise force, all the while breathlessly uttering more sickening words in your ear in hopes of fulfilling your need for relief. 

surely enough, the combination of his cock shoving itself past your opening and his guilt-inducing remarks that only make you sob harder work you up to the point of no return. all it really takes after that is one touch of his thumb to your pulsating nub to eventually have you seizing up in no time, your pussy messily tightening and gushing as your high crashes over you in large waves of ecstasy. it seems to trigger him too, because by the time you even realise you’re there, chan’s twitching and leaking spurts of thick cum inside you. there’s so much of it that it trickles past where he’s got you plugged up, and you barely comprehend yourself pushing a hand near your oozing hole to catch it on your fingertips. 

you both come to slowly, ragged breathing that fills the air growing quieter to pair with the musk of the room. chan’s gaze is still trained on you through the mirror, unreadable just like always whenever you’ve made the same mistake again, but you take the opportunity in this instance specifically to raise the hand that’s collected his seed in it to your mouth, proceeding to lick up the droplets of his excess release. even though you don’t catch his stare in the reflection, you can still feel it burning holes through your head, a fact that only leaves goosebumps rising over your skin. it’s only when you pull your hand away once more to catch the last of his remaining cum that he decides to finally interject, grabbing your palm in his coarse one with hooded eyes. they’re blown out when he tugs your back flush into his chest, the impact leaving his length pushing deeper inside, and they’re blown out when his fingers wrap around your neck to give it a slight squeeze, the little loss of oxygen making your mind spin.

“you think that’s funny? teasing me even after i just fucked you? after i left my mark on you and made sure you know that you’re mine?” chan murmurs, lips sultrily ghosting the shell of your ear. you want to fixate on what he’d addressed you as, let it marinate in your thoughts and brood over it for the next weeks to come even if it was just an absentminded slip of the mouth, but your focus is interrupted by the moving of his hips against yours picking up once more. the previously repeated actions send his dick driving into you again, breaching your cervix and pressing deliciously into every nook and cranny in a way that has you nearly losing your footing, but chan is quicker to hold you up with his free hand. “w-wait, ‘m still sensitive.” you manage to tremble out at a particularly well-placed graze of his cock, but chan doesn’t seem to care, grinding into you even more eagerly at your admission to the point you struggle to keep the sounds spilling out you at bay.

there’s a resounding knock on the door all of a sudden, one that makes your breath hitch and your chest twist in uneasiness. some part of you feels wary and on edge, and you would assume chan’s movements would halt at that, but he doesn’t show any signs of stopping, ignoring your frantic attempts to make him do so by holding you in place instead as he begins to pick up the pace. “s-stop, we’ll get caught.” you heave out upon the noise of skin slapping rising in volume. you do your best to stand your ground, to avoid the gradual closing of your eyes and the mushy fog of your brain clouding over in euphoria, but it’s to no avail. you’re about to let go of your inhibitions completely, to forget about what had just happened and throw caution into the wind in order to lose yourself in the moment, until—

“y/n, i know you’re in there with chris.”

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

© all rights reserved to @/lovscb97, do not plagiarise, translate, re-upload, etc 

[thefudge]

Advice for writing smut???

gonna do bullet-points of things i tend to live by when it comes to smut (this is just my opinion):

don't switch styles: the way you write the smut has to be consistent with the way you write the rest of the story, so if your story is more comedic or romcom-y in nature, the way you write the smut should have those stylings. i personally find it very jarring when authors decide to break the format for the smut, almost like the story has to stop for the sex intermission; if you're writing a horror story, the smut must be informed and influenced by that genre, and if you are breaking genre for the smut portion, tell us why you're suddenly switching gears (it has to be an aesthetic choice you're making on purpose). likewise, if your style in that story is more lyrical, the smut has to be somewhat lyrical too, or if your story is more cormac mccarthy-esque-cut-and-dry, the smut can't suddenly involve an effluvia of purple, sappy prose. integrating the smut in the story and treating it like any other part of the story is key to me. too often i've seen ppl switch to this anonymous pornified style when they get to the smut

which brings me to specificity. i'll talk about het sex, since that's what i tend to write most: not all men are going to be fingering or eating pussy the same way, not all dicks are big and they shouldn't be, not all women immediately get excited by fingering, not everyone moans the same way or makes the same sounds. you're writing about particular characters so it has to be particular to them. i know this is very old advice, but i think it bears repeating

there isn't an exact formula or sequence you have to follow, there aren't precise steps, you don't have to go "well, first he has to kiss down her neck, then reach the boob area, then play with the nipples, then put the nipple in his mouth, then slowly go down on her, then prepare her for entering her etc. etc. etc." this can get boring and repetitive and you start thinking of your characters as these mechanical dolls who have to fuck for your audience. and that can be a vibe too, if you do it on purpose. but sometimes you can get stuck in a porn routine (and ofc, having only the guy show initiative can also get boring)

in order to break that, insert some character moments. what are the characters thinking during this? sometimes they might be thinking of something completely unrelated on the surface, but which has a thematic relevance that can make the scene hotter. likewise, maybe they're doing smth that seems unsexy on the surface, but which, within the context of the story might be really hot. sex doesn't just involve, well, sex, but so much weirdness and humanity and creativity. two bodies (usually) are trying to do this really awkward thing together and they might have a lot of baggage and history to inform it. there's a lot you can do with that.

don't make it glossy and clean, where everyone smells of strawberry shampoo and there is never anything out of sync. the most boring smut tends to be the kind where no one makes any mistakes and everything is super efficient. i imagine it feels like using an industrial pump to milk various farm animals.

and you know what? you can make that hot too. you CAN write a kind of robotic efficient smut and make it really interesting based on the context. let's say you're writing a 1984 AU fic where ppl are forced into intimacy only to procreate and their sex drive is diminished. you can play with that premise and lean into the dehumanizing industrialization of sex, but you have to mean it, aka your narratorial voice must be conscious of these factors.

if you're writing dubcon, make the dubious part present, make sure you draw out the ambivalence and ambiguity. if you're writing noncon, the character whose consent is being violated has to be transformed by this in some way. it can be forced pleasure, for instance, but not only. it has to be a journey for them too, some kind of spiritual pit, or a form of access to terrible knowledge. i know this is a personal thing, but noncon doesn't work for me if the character being noncon'd is just sort of *there*, suffering passively. i think that sort of dead passivity can be done very well too, but the narratorial voice has to persuade me.

that being said, don't be afraid of fear in consensual sex. terror and vulnerability are a part of consensual sex too, imo, and again, depending on the story and the characters, there's a lot you can explore there

i personally find it really hot when the narratorial voice starts discussing some of the ideas that the story wants to convey during the smut. so like, you can characterize person A and outline their worldview and their plans while they're ramming person B, and the thinking & fucking are thus entwined. idk, i dig that

speaking of which, smut can convey world-building details and social/philosophical ideas, not just emotions and character beats

not all smut has to end with mutual orgasm or even one-sided orgasm, it depends what you want to do or where you want to go. again, you don't have to follow a sequence. plus, it's fun (and hot) to write about frustration and failure too.

if you want to mix up the descriptions, resort to the story & characters. you'll find it's easier to describe someone fondling a boob in a new or at least interesting way if you're thinking about that particular character in that particular story, and not just Man X from planet porn (sorry to be snarky, but mainstream erotica is soooo guilty of this)

screaming & really intense reactions are cool but they have to match the characters and the situations

sometimes, it's hotter if an effect is mild or negated, if the usual outcome doesn't happen; mix up the order of events, toy with the usual reactions. it's not about being original, it's about finding out what works for your characters. writing about sex is, in a way, a performance of it, an attempt to go through the sexual motions, to find out what works and doesn't, to engage with the erotics of text (roland barthes entered the chat)

if you are bored by your own smut, that's a problem. i know we all talk about how hard we find writing smut, and IT IS hard, and sometimes it's not enjoyable, because writing itself is often not enjoyable, but even when it's painful and annoying, it gives you that little intellectual kick like "huh, i'm creating this and making these people do this, and ohh look, i can maybe put this unnamable thing into words". but if you become bored, that's a sign you have to look at the language & characters and figure out what's not working for you

last thing i'll underline: pay attention to your narratorial voice. in this ordeal, you are the seducer. not the characters. you have to seduce us with words and context. your voice matters the most. you can persuade us of anything. but you have to be confident in your weirdness and particularity. this is your bedroom (so to speak), so invite us in.

[animasola86]

F o r g e t f u l 🎀 1 / 4

Your roommate has a dirty secret - you. The only problem is: you can't remember anything about that. And there might be even more problems when you realize just what kind of relationship you have with her.

a dominant woman X a submissive girl with a memory problem

WARNINGS: F!Reader-insert! NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Mistress/pet. Domme/sub. Memory loss. Manipulation. Gaslighting. Praise kink. Dubcon elements. Fingering. Sex toys. Object insertion. Bondage. (More tags on AO3.) WORDS: 5.5k

A/N: Remember: if these tags are not for you, you better turn back now! If you know my other stories, you may be used to my very explicit writing style, but this is still some of the darker stuff, somewhat. It's rough, but there is an actual wlw story buried beneath the depravity, I swear! And: THIS IS FICTION! Nobody got hurt in the making of this series. (By the way, the header is just for aesthetics, it's up to you to decide how Mistress looks like and obviously Reader looks however you want to insert her. I tried my best to keep her neutral.) Another note on the fandom tags: I write characters who could be anyone, so I thought about some kick-ass ladies who may fit the role here. I'm sorry this is not about your favorite character, but maybe it can still somewhat fit? Give it a try :)

1 🎀 2 🎀 3 🎀 4

You're staring at the pictures with your lips parted and trembling, your cheeks warm, a strange tingle in your nape. Your hands are shaking as you file through the prints. They look weirdly professional, good lighting, even better angles, the background is blurry while the focus lies directly on...

You.

It's you in those photographs, you in various positions, you in different outfits... or with nothing at all hiding your curves. Some pictures are just showing certain body parts, some angles you've never seen of yourself, some more flattering than others.

But whatever you see, you can't hide the fact that it arouses you. It's not the subject, you're usually quite self-conscious about taking nudes of yourself (even though you gotta admit that these look quite well made, so surreal that you feel almost proud of yourself), it's actually two things that make your core throb:

One: you are in clearly compromising positions, bent over with your legs spread wide, on your back, bound to the bed with cuffs around your wrists and ankles, or tied up with soft-looking rope in intricate patterns, your body composed in ways you haven't thought possible (or comfortable).

And two: you are always stuffed. There are various objects sticking out of both your cunt and your ass, sometimes there's even something in your mouth that's held open by a spider gag. It varies too, not all holes are occupied all the time, all at once, in some pictures it's just one and it's particularly stuffed and stretched (is that an eggplant?).

Your body reacts more and more as you flip through the thick printed paper. The worst thing about it all:

You can't remember a goddamn thing!

Shame and arousal course through you as you stare at yourself. But you can't put them down, can't stop. In this photo, you're wearing a black leather harness that accentuates your breasts. You're standing, with wide legs, a spreader bar attached to your ankles. You're blindfolded, your arms tied behind your back. It's a series of pictures, you realize.

First from the front, then from the back (your ass cheeks look great with how they're pushed up by the leather straps). You notice something shiny between them: a butt plug with a sparkly diamond base. It's glowing, or blinking as you see in the next picture where the light is gone.

Your insides convulse a little, your muscles clenching around nothing. It's like looking at porn, but you can't ignore the familiarity about the body portrayed. It is undoubtedly yours.

But then again: you've never had anything up your ass, not in your conscious state at least. But here (and in those other pics) you have, and the next print even shows a close-up of the plug in your ass. It's a strangely aesthetic photo considering the unflattering motif and angle, but it certainly does things to you. Though you can't be sure if the tension in your stomach comes from embarrassment, excitement or sheer terror at the revelation that somebody took these pictures of you – and you can't even remember it.

Swallowing hard, you pry your eyes from the prints, your hands still shaking, as you look around the room. Somebody can only be one person. Your gaze scrapes over the shelves around you, full of camera equipment, old-fashioned film containers next to a plastic box full of SD-cards, various lenses and other extras, and then the cameras themselves, three at least, behind glass doors, kept away, like the pictures you found in a large brown envelope hiding in a drawer.

You've been looking for some hair ties, an innocent search, knowing your roommate wouldn't mind, but now you feel as if you've stepped into a different world, uncovering secrets you should have never known about. Even if they are about you.

Taking a shuddering breath, you look back at the pictures in your hands, your cheeks positively aflame now as you trace the blurry lines of your body before the focus shifts to a close-up of your cunt, shiny and reddened, your clit swollen, with black clamps attached to your pussy lips, thin metal chains disappearing off to the sides, holding your folds open while something black and girthy vanishes into your body.

The next pictures show a white-gloved hand gripping the base of the dildo, and you flip quicker through the sheets to create the motion, seeing the toy going in and out of your cunt, guided by the anonymous hand, spreading your core, diving in to retreat with an extra layer of shine before disappearing again, and as you stare at the prints, you can almost feel it moving inside you, a faint memory as your muscles clench and unclench, your arousal building up before it drips into your underwear.

You are torn between being very horny upon seeing these pictures and utterly disturbed. If you could only remember these scenes, then it wouldn't be as bad. But you can't. There's nothing, only fog that slips through your mind's imaginary fingers as you try to catch it, as you try to make sense of this. You feel your heart beating faster while your eyes tear up from staring unblinkingly at the prints in your hands.

This can't be real. Confusion merges with betrayal, your belly feels tense, your heart clenches in rhythm with your walls, your throat closes up as the first tear spills from your lashes.

You let go of the pictures, watching them scatter over the desk and down to the floor, every angle of your body on display, every inch captured in embarrassing detail, your holes filled or gaping, your mouth gagged or stuffed or open, there's drool, there are tears, there's wetness glistening on your skin in almost every shot. Your eyes may be the scariest part staring up at you. They're either glazed over, unfocused, or rolled back and hooded, some bloodshot, some watery, and some look almost defiant, a moment captured in time where you seemingly fought back?

The ones where you're blindfolded are the least terrifying, those are the ones where you can dissociate, where you can imagine somebody else being tied to whatever surfaces there are, tables, benches, beds, chairs, artfully presented, where it's just a body, clad in sexy lingerie and high heels, or adorned with ropes, or in the moments after where the skin is dented by the intricate patterns left behind by the ties.

The close-ups are also getting to you. You've never seen your own cunt or ass up close like this, so again, it could be anyone's holes filled and spread and used by various objects. The sheer amount and variety of them is quite concerning. But it's the unconventional ones that make you shiver, that create that tension in your stomach. The cucumber pushed deep into your ass so only its thinner stalk or whatever its called pokes out. The wide eggplant parting your labia in an obscene fashion, its entire body stuffed into your cunt, creating a slight bulge in your lower stomach.

There's another stack of photos atop a large envelope (the whole drawer seems to be dedicated to just you), and your curiosity gets the better of you after all. It's a series of pictures showing different round objects pushed into your holes. From marbles to ping pong balls to actual tennis balls, they're all shown vanishing into either your ass or your cunt, pushed by a delicate finger clad in a white glove, one after the other, and you can only assume how many would actually fit. It's not a video, you can't be sure, but you can imagine whoever did this to you didn't stop at just one.

Indeed they didn't, as the next photo shows. Another set of hands, also wearing white gloves, is grabbing your ass cheeks and pulling them apart, making your sphincter wink at the camera, before, in the next shot, your hole is gaping, allowing a strange view inside, rosy flesh stuffed with white little balls (you can see at least three, but more are hinted at behind them). You feel a little sick looking at the rest of the series of pictures, where they come back out as your hole puckers, pushing and pushing.

Your body reacts in earnest, your muscles clenching around nothing, deep shivers crashing down your spine. You flip past more of these kinds of photos, until you stop when you see white-gloved fingers poking at your cunt, spreading your lips, gathering your slick that glistens on the surface of the latex gloves, and you let out an audible gasp when the next picture doesn't show them push in, but shows only a wrist (attached to a slender arm) poking out of your stretched hole, gripped by tight skin, suggesting the entire hand is stuck inside you.

Your stomach gives a nervous growl at the sight, your breath hitching in your throat. You swallow thickly, your nostrils flaring as you force yourself to breathe through your nose to calm yourself. The stack of pictures shakes in your hands as you flip through more extreme insertions, more vegetables, some fruits, an entire apple made it up your cunt apparently, while they went from using one cucumber in your ass to at least three, stretching your rim impossibly wide. The sight alone makes your asshole clench violently, and you wonder why you never felt sore after being stuffed so full and spread so wide.

But your body seemingly adjusted, returned to its former state, unharmed, giving no hints at what actually happened to you. Strange. It's almost as if this happened to somebody else after all. But it didn't. It is your body. You may not know your cunt or ass up close, but you recognize the rest, your boobs, your arms, your belly, your legs, your feet, the birthmarks that make you you. It is you in these pictures, in every single one.

Only you.

A strangled sob escapes you as you look over the desk, seeing more and more envelopes, hiding in plain sight, more prints, some smaller, some bigger, all filled with motifs of your body being used in various fashions, one more degrading than the next. Shame settles low in your stomach, like a heavy weight that makes it hard to breathe. Your head is spinning, blood rushing in your ears so loudly you are startled back into reality as you suddenly hear the creaking of the door.

Footsteps follow, before someone clears their throat.

You whip around, dropping the last pictures you were holding, more shots of your stuffed cunt, wet and glistening as it's assaulted by more household items. Your eyes widen when you see your roommate in the door frame, a smug smile on her beautiful face as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Oh hi,” she says in a nonchalant tone, tilting her head. “What are you doing here, pet?” she adds, and you frown at the nickname, a strange sensation crashing through your nerves.

“I... uh... I was looking for...” you stammer, taking a step away from the desk and the mess you made by dropping all those prints. “A hair tie,” you whisper breathlessly, curling your shaking hands into fists as you stare at her. “What... what are these? Did you take them?” you then ask, your voice trembling as much as your shoulders while you look from her back to the discriminating evidence you found by accident.

Your roommate sighs, unfolding her arms as she walks towards you. She's taller than you, slender and still curvy in the right places, her long hair falling over her slim shoulders. You force yourself to look into her eyes and not get distracted by the cleavage her tight dress creates or how close she is. She stops right in front of you, looking down, a softer looking smile curling her full lips.

“You know I did,” she says quietly, reaching up a hand to caress your cheek with the back of her finger. You shiver under the touch, but don't flinch away. “You agreed to this, remember?”

“No,” you breathe out, blinking quickly as you feel tears welling up in your eyes.

She clicks her tongue, shaking her head. “Shh, it's okay, pet, don't worry. You did. I would never do anything to harm you,” she whispers, leaning closer until you feel her hot breath on your lips. “You wanted to be my muse, you begged me for it,” she adds, biting her lip sensually before leaning in to press her warm mouth to the corner of yours.

You stiffen, eyes widening, your heart nearly exploding in your chest. You can't remember any of this. Why is she saying that? She is just your roommate!

You moved in only a few months ago, replying to an ad you saw on the bulletin board of your college dorm. A cheap room in a good neighborhood, your own room, away from the distractions of having to live with people you don't like or know that well, it sounded too good to be true. But it was true, and the woman looking for roommates was so nice, so enticing. You met her at a neutral place, to get to know her (fall for her charm), before she showed you the apartment, and you moved in later that week.

It was perfect. Until it wasn't. Not that you noticed it right away. You just never saw her. Now that you thought about it, you can only (barely) remember going to your classes (you are still going to your classes, right?), while the rest of the day is somewhat of a blur. You can't, however, remember going to your job at the coffee shop (do you still have a job? How are you paying for this place?), and the more you try to remember, the more holes come up, black and all-consuming.

You frown as you stare at her. She leans back slowly, watching you. Her hand is on your face, the pointy nail of her thump scraping over your bottom lip as her long fingers caress the shell of your ear.

“No need to worry, pet,” she says quietly, her voice a low soft thrum, rich like honey, that tickles something inside you that you've fought all your life. Why does she keep calling you 'pet'? And why does it affect you so much? “Everything is just fine. And I'm not even mad that you just went into my room like this. I told you you shouldn't, didn't I?”

You swallow as she lowers her hand and closes it around your throat, giving it a gentle squeeze. You feel your pulse throbbing against her palm. “I'm sorry,” you gasp out.

She smiles at you, moving her hand even lower, teasing her fingertips along the neckline of your shirt. “It's okay. You know the consequences. It'll be fine.” You furrow your eyebrows, breathing harder, not understanding anything. “Not the first time, hm?” she adds, giving you a wink. Her words make no sense, your head is hurting with how tight you pull your eyebrows together, and with all the thoughts and questions whirling about in a wild dance of confusion.

“I... I don't –”

“Shh,” she shushes you, her hand gripping your chin. You freeze. “Be a good pet and go back to your room. I'll clean this up. Put on the clothes I chose for you. Wait for me when you're done. Do you understand?”

You stare at her, your body tensing up, your cunt clenching hard around nothing. Her words, the cadence of her voice, the dominant tone, it all brings you to do one thing, your mind emptying as words spill from your trembling lips. “Yes, Mistress.”

You don't even know where these came from. Mistress? Pet? What is going on? But your body moves on auto-pilot, your mind swirling, still fighting the confusion, but also easing into a strange void, triggered by words you've heard before, or so it feels, commands you've answered many times in the past.

She lets go of your chin, giving you a warm smile, even though her eyes are dark and somewhat cold, and you nod, bow your head and shuffle out of the room, your legs trembling as you make your way back into your bedroom across the hall.

For a moment you're wondering how you got here, why you're here, but then your gaze falls onto a pile of clothes on your bed. You walk closer, picking up item after item. A short black skirt, pleated, barely long enough to not be considered a belt. A tight tank top, white and almost see-through. A set of fancy black underwear, a lace bra with an intricate flower pattern, a thong of similar design. There's also a pair of sheer black stockings, a garter belt and straps to attach each piece together.

Your stomach tenses at the sight. You've seen these pieces before, in the photos you shouldn't have seen. It's a blur how you put them on, your head spinning, your hands shaking, but you still somehow manage to dress in time before you hear footsteps on the floorboards outside your room. Your heart beats faster, your chest heaving, tight in the bra and top, straining, something cold crashing down your spine before it gathers hot and pulsing right between your legs.

Before the creaking of the door announces your roommate, you suddenly fall to your knees, your feet tucked under your rear, your hands automatically finding purchase in your lap, folded neatly as you stretch your back and square your shoulders, breathing deep as you train your eyes straight ahead, waiting for the door to open. You have no idea what made you assume this position, why it feels so familiar, so safe in a way.

Your roommate (your Mistress) enters your bedroom, her high heels thudding over the carpet as she walks up to you, tilting her head as she watches you closely. “Stand,” she says, and you do, your legs moving seemingly on their own. Once you stand, stiff with your arms pressed to your sides, chest pushed out, your neck straight, eyes wandering over the tall frame in front of you, she nods. “See? You haven't forgotten. Good girl,” she says, and the praise shoots through you like a pistol shot, straight into your clit, making it throb and ache, your heart beating in the same hurried rhythm.

She walks around you then, her long fingers brushing over your bare arms, around your shoulders, down your spine, until she gives your ass a soft slap, making you gasp quietly. She repeats the motion, but this time, she leaves her hand on your cheek for a moment, squeezing it, her fingernails digging into your soft skin. You stiffen, breathing a little harder.

“You're so beautiful,” she whispers as she leans into you, looming behind you, her breath ghosting your jaw. “My perfect little muse.”

You feel her lips brushing against the soft spot behind your ear, a hot kiss that makes you shiver, while her hand gropes your ass, fingertips teasing at the thin fabric of your thong tucked between your cheeks.

Suddenly she leans back, lets go of you, and you hear her walking a few steps before she stops, a deep sigh echoing through the room. You turn around slowly, unsure if you should, but when you do, you freeze as you watch her pick up the glass of water on your bedside table.

“Baby, I told you to drink more,” she says with a tilt of her head. “You always forget, hm? So busy, head always in the clouds...” She walks back to you, holding the glass in front of you, her eyes boring into yours as she waits for you to grab it. You do, your hands shaking. “Drink up, pretty girl. You know you need it.”

She's so caring, you think as you bring the water to your lips, holding her gaze, but as soon as you feel the cold liquid running down your tight throat, an image flickers before your eyes. Your roommate (Mistress) sitting on your bed, moving a clear glass straw in a stirring motion, swirling the water, making a faint sheen of powder disappear. You feel as if you've watched her do that many times. What is that? What did she put in here? Vitamins? Or something else?

But you can't even question it further, can't find the courage to ask, when you realize you've drank the whole thing, every drop of water (and whatever else was in there) now in your stomach. “Good girl,” she praises and smiles at you, before she takes the glass from your clammy fingers and puts it back on your bedside table. “Now let's get you ready for our big night out, yeah?”

You frown, another faint memory peeking through the fog in your head. It seems to be getting thicker now. Strange. But this image, you still see somewhat clearly before you. You had plans tonight, you remember now, you wanted to go out. Where? No idea. But you needed a hair tie. Yeah. That's why you went into your roommate's room in the first place. Some details are blurry (were you supposed to go out with her? Have you done that before? Why would you? You barely know the woman...), but somehow they don't matter anymore.

She steps back in front of you, her fingers vanishing in the cleavage of her dress before she pulls something from between her breasts. You blink in confusion as you recognize the shape. It's a metal butt plug. And she stored it between her boobs? Interesting.

“Open wide, pet,” she tells you, and without even questioning it, you part your lips and let your tongue roll out. She looks pleased as she puts the rounded object into your mouth. It's warm, and the taste triggers something else in you. Another familiar sensation. It's her, you know without knowing, her taste, sweet and a bit salty, exploding on your tongue, sinking deep, causing soft shivers to crash down your spine, something hot gathering low in your gut.

You've had your face on her chest before, huh? Must be. Your cheeks burn up badly, your breaths loud through your nose as you suckle on the butt plug between your lips, your eyes scanning the pretty face looking down at you. She keeps her fingers on the base, pushing the object in and out, and you find yourself licking around it, coating it in your saliva. Like you've done before. You think.

She watches you before she lets go of the plug and puts her palm over your mouth. “Keep it nice and warm for me, okay?” she says, leaning closer until her nose brushes against yours. You give a jerking nod, tightening your lips around the narrowest part of the plug while its body rests hard and heavy on your tongue. “Good.”

You feel saliva pooling in your mouth, and the urge to swallow becomes stronger. But you focus on the woman in front of you as she straightens up again, her hands on her hips. Her whole presence, her aura, has you in its grip, you feel, it's impossible to fight it, to protest, to do anything except the things she demands of you. All it takes is a look, a word, her voice driving through you like an electric current that controls your every limb.

And so you move when she tells you to turn around and bend over, and as you rest on your forearms on the edge of your bed, she nudges your legs apart and steps between them, her hands sliding under your skirt and pushing it up. You stiffen slightly, breathing harder, your heart thundering inside your chest, but you can't object, you don't want to. You just endure.

And a tiny part of you, through the fog in your head, lights up, a growing heat that creeps down your spine, tenses in your stomach, seeps lower until it gathers in your core, scorching, wet, and it's all you feel when she pushes your thong aside and moves her fingers along your slit, dipping gently between your puffy lips and into your slick, the loud squelching noise making your ears burn.

She prods at your entrance, teases your clit, but then she moves up again, and without warning or command or reassuring words pokes right against your puckered hole, and as you gasp around the plug in your mouth, flinching slightly, she stretches your rim and pushes into your ass, a slim finger, a pointy fingernail, digging against your tense muscles. In and out it goes until there are two fingers, then three, and it burns, the friction too much, like little daggers poking at your nerves.

“Come on, pet, relax,” she says from behind you, moving her fingers deeper, curling them, pushing and prodding against protesting muscles. “You've done this before. You're a pro at this, remember?”

Her words bring up the hazy memories of the pictures you saw, of the various items wedged into your tight ass, and some just don't make sense. Three cucumbers? Really? While it already feels like too much when she 'only' has three slim fingers inside you? How did you manage that? Your stomach gives a distant growl as drool slips past your tight lips and onto your bed.

“Fine, I'll lube you up this time,” she sighs and removes her fingers with a strangely wet pop. This time? She doesn't usually? It's almost as if you can remember the pain of the dry friction, but then why can you never remember any soreness afterwards? Confusion lingers on your mind as you hear her footsteps leaving the room.

You remain in your bent-over position, your hands clawing at the sheets as you suckle mindlessly on the metal plug in your mouth, trying to make sense of it all. You come to no conclusion whatsoever when she eventually returns, and you hear the squirt of some liquid before you can feel it. Large dollops of something cold pressing against your tight hole. You groan against the object between your lips as she pushes deeper, her fingers, slick and cold, sliding in and out again.

This time she stretches your hole by scissoring her fingers, knuckles digging into your tense muscles, and you hear another squirt and something cold lands on your hot skin, slipping right into you. You shiver, goosebumps breaking out on your exposed skin. She keeps doing that, filling you up with more and more lube, you assume, her fingers pushing it deep, coating your insides. It's a strange sensation, but again, this feels somewhat familiar, and triggers more memories you seem to have suppressed before, or forgotten.

You see yourself strapped to a reclining chair, your legs raised up in some sort of stirrups, ankles tied and wrists bound to the armrests. You're naked, and she is kneeling between your wide open legs in front of a large plastic bucket or something like it, and there's a tube inside your ass, something cold (water?) pressing through it and into you, and you see and feel it filling you up, your stomach bulging, and you feel sick, your insides cramping, but you can't say anything, there's a gag in your mouth, so all you can do is squirm in your restraints, until you feel a different sort of pain as she slaps your mound with a force that makes you cry out, makes you flinch remembering it, and she keeps at it, hitting your clit with precise blows until it's all puffy and throbbing badly, and you throw your head back and whine helplessly, your belly still bulging, filling up, while her voice coos into your ear:

“You want to be clean, pet, don't you? So we gotta clean you up properly. You don't want to be dirty for our guests, now do you?”

You frown deeply as those words echo in your cloudy head. Guests? But the question vanishes slowly, replaced by the sensation of her fingers digging deep into your ass, spreading more lube, and in the back of your mind you're just glad she isn't giving you another enema. A strange thought to have, but it makes sense in the dizziness that holds you hostage. Breathing harder, you press your forehead into the bed, swallowing hard around the plug in your mouth.

As she works on (in) your ass, you start to feel a tingle in your neglected pussy, a spasm deep within, a little clench, a needy little urge, and instead of holding still, you find yourself grinding your rear into her hand. She stops immediately, a deep sigh escaping her as she pulls her fingers out of your ass and grips your nape with her wet hand. You shiver and stiffen, holding your breath as she pulls you into a standing position.

Her free hand grabs the base of the plug and pulls it out of your mouth where it clangs against your teeth, causing you to flinch. You swallow the excess spit and take a shuddering breath as you feel the warm metal pressing between your ass cheeks. With how she worked you open, it slips in easily enough, and your muscles clench slightly around its narrow neck, but it's only after she smacks your soft cheek a few times in rapid succession, making you whine and shudder as your skin tightens, that you're tensing up enough to hold it in place.

She lets go of you and spins you around, then holds out her hand to you, her fingers glistening in lube and your own wetness. “Clean,” she says, and even though your stomach makes a loud grumble of protest, you find yourself leaning in and closing your lips around her slim fingers. A strange taste of artificial strawberry and something else, something tangy and your own, floods your senses, but you close your eyes and flick your tongue around her digits, focusing on the task and not on the taste and the origin of it.

Eventually she pulls her hand away and pats your cheek, leaving a trail of saliva on your warm skin. Your eyes flutter open as she leans around you and adjusts your thong, pulling it back in place, then pushes your skirt down again. Her eyes meet yours, the gaze intense, creating another soothing wave of heat that rolls over you gently, that makes you clench around the plug in your butt. A smile grazes her full lips, and you find yourself smiling back.

“Alright, now put your hair up, get your shoes and your coat, and wait by the front door,” she tells you as she steps away, holding your gaze until you nod obediently. Your mind is reeling at this point, confusion and arousal warring inside of you. What is happening?

You don't know, and you don't seem to care too much either as you start moving, following her orders. You end up on your knees again, right by the door, waiting like a dog, and the image couldn't have been more fitting when you see her approaching with a strange leather band in her hands. You blink when she crouches down before you and fixes what you can only assume is a collar around your neck. It sits tight enough to notice it, but you can still breathe freely and swallow against it without it restricting you in any way.

You're still confused why you need this (and why you accept it so easily). Your roommate (Mistress) cups your face and looks at you with a warm gaze that makes you bite your lip, her hands rubbing over your cheeks before she tugs her thumbs under your chin and lifts it so she can lean in and press her lips to yours. Your eyes flutter shut as you part your lips and meet her tongue, the kiss deep and soft, gentle gliding of tongues and lips, a warm gesture, sending sparks through your nerves that make you throb with a need that feels both familiar and eerily unknown, frightening.

A single thought ricochets through your empty head: You would do anything for this woman.

“My beautiful pet,” she whispers against your tingling lips, the tip of her tongue tracing the corner of your mouth. “Are you ready?”

Without thinking, without wondering what for, you nod eagerly, a breathless “Yes, Mistress.” leaving your swollen lips. She gives you another peck and stands up then, snapping her fingers in a way that leaves no room for interpretation. You stand immediately, swaying slightly on the high heels you were told to wear. You're still smaller than her, but having to look up only amplifies the sensation coursing through you. Your devotion for her.

She grabs a large bag and shoves it into your hands, and you know by the weight and feel of it, that it holds camera equipment. A distant memory shimmers behind your glassy eyes, of stumbling into her room, finding those envelopes in the drawer of her desk, of flipping through countless pictures of your naked body, of your holes being stuffed and stretched, of being tied down, of letting her do with you whatever she wants. What has disturbed you earlier is barely worth a flinch now.

It's what you do. It's what you are. Her muse. Her pet. She chose you and you obey. It's what you do, it's what she does. She's your Mistress, after all.

1 🎀 2 🎀 3 🎀 4

End notes: Yes, our dominant lady here is indeed inspired by a character from my other (m/f) Dom/sub story: Infatuated: Mistress.

By the way, a little disclaimer at the end here as we go to the next (heavier) chapters: I am not a BDSM professional or expert, I am a writer with a dirty mind and access to the Internet. This is fiction, gaslighting people is bad, consent is very important, but when a hot lady tells you to do something, you gotta do it, that's the law (jk). Please see this as what it is: a fantasy and nothing more.

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Saturday!

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

[centrally-unplanned]

I was going through some archived scans of 90's otaku magazines, as is my sacred duty, and I stumbled on this ad for a Sega Saturn game I did not know:

The pitch of Roommate (as seen here) is that of a "real time" romance simulation:

What makes it real-time is that the game progresses in sync with the Saturn's internal clock. In that way [main girl] Ryoko is just like a real girl; she has her own daily habits and lives her life accordingly. So if you start the game in the afternoon, you might not be able to meet her because she's at school [...] The purpose is to enjoy living together with Ryoko in real time and communicating with her.

And this is exactly the kind of way-too-convoluted gimmick that sacrifices gameplay functionality on the altar of conceptual novelty based on random technology add-ons present in new-gen consoles of the era that I just love. Obviously the concept of starting a game and having the main girl not be present so you cannot play is completely asinine - but think of the realism!

Between that and the discount-Sadamoto 90's character designs, I wanted to see it for myself; so I spent way, way too long setting up a Sega Saturn emulator. In my experience early CD-ROM-based consoles often require much more bespoke set-ups to get working, in this case custom BIOS files in the emulator firmware directories, and JPN-language ones at that for this game. But I got it to work and oh yeah, this is some early "digital" console era crust:

Playing this game is just painful. The clock of course means that you essentially can't play it at all - looking at YouTube comments on the very few Let's Plays and such that exist, people are reminiscing about how they could never find Ryoko because their schedules didn't align. One person even comments:

This game is for NEETs and shut-ins

Which is a valid demo I guess! But it doesn't really stop there - your house is a "fully realized" 3D environment of bare walls which you navigate with clunky controls. Let me log in and take some screenshots...

Jesus Christ it's 10 pm and you are cooking dinner?! The one time I don't want this ghost popping out of the cracks in the floorboards, I swear...

Okay, got rid of her (She broke a plate -_- you moved in yesterday, girl):

You walk, in real time (step by step) through this pixel museum just...hoping that one of the rooms will contain Ryoko and proc a dialogue event based on the time of day. There is a little more to it than that but that is essentially the gameplay. This would, very obviously, be simply better as a straightforward visual novel.

But you see how that just isn't as cool in 1997, right? This is the era where the fidelity of graphics and the technology for simulation is progressing at a rapid clip, and everyone wants to see the boundaries pushed. Roommate isn't the first "real time simulation" game, but it is the most pure, the one fully committed to the bit. Your house is completely mapped out, the girl has her routine, you walk step by painful step through the rooms because this is "real", you are living it. They even use a live photo for the outside of the house to sell the aesthetic (and also save money):

Ryoko is waiting in the kitchen of that house when you come home from work, putting on an apron, ready to cook dinner. For you.

Assuming you get home at whatever fucking 30 minute window the game decided to gatekeep its gameplay behind! But of course I exaggerate - it wasn't that bad (there are little mechanics you can use to set some schedule times in the game for example), player tolerance for bullshit was way higher then, and you were expected to buy strategy guides for these things. So even though it was panned by critics on release...it was a sleeper hit with a devoted fanbase.

Which means it got a ton of sequels and ports! We don't have to go through them all, though I will share my favorite factoid about the first sequel - "ROOMMATE ~Ryoko in Summer Vacation~" from the wiki:

The character designs are significantly different from the previous game (especially Ryoko's brown hair and large breasts).

Priorities, baby. But some of the ports are interesting because of the changing tech. A version was ported to the PlayStation, which does not have the internal clock a Sega Saturn had. But coincidentally it did have the PocketStation, a handheld GameBoy/Tamagotchi hybrid expansion tool that did have an internal clock and could sync with the game. It also let you track Ryoko's schedule and play mini-games, with some very adorable animations as you can see in this ad for the product that featured Roommate:

This device absolutely reminds me of the Disc Fax system discussed in my Miho Nakayama essay - a very niche product biting off more than it can chew making games overly complex to play but allowing things that would otherwise be impossible (and this one was a good deal more successful at least). Here it allowed Roommate's central gimmick to function - and is super cute, honestly I would buy a standalone tamagotchi version of this game.

The PS1 also couldn't quite handle how the game was built for the Sega Saturn graphics-wise, and as such a bunch of the 3D elements were sanded off into 2D simulacrums - most notably the house:

Which, despite this being a technological downgrade, is way better! It looks adorable, you can actually see what is going on and where Ryoko is, and you can navigate it way more cleanly. God, did...hold on let me tab back to the game...yeah, is there no clock in the original game on screen. That is insane. Anyway the PS1 version had a lot of these cute little graphical additions, even right on the title screen:

It is definitely the better looking version, which is a classic tale - in 1997 the "bleeding edge" of 3D graphics were impressive to players, even through their roughness. Now they just aren't, and so the retro charm of designs that are optimized what the mediums of the time could reliably handle have a lot more appeal.

There was also a PC port in 1998, which did exactly what I suggested and added an "adventure" mode where you could ignore the clock system. They definitely learned over time what worked and what didn't; but the appeal of the gimmick is what first sold it to players in the end.

All of this is to say, don't play Roommate, and if you do just emulate the PS1 game instead of torturing yourself with the Sega Saturn version. Oh...you weren't gonna play a Japanese-only abandonware 90's not-even-eroge dating sim to begin with? Ah, well, yeah, I guess that makes sense.

Man I should translate it shouldn't I? So people can play it...

[niuttuc]

This is a post I'm interested to be seen by people who either do not play Magic: the Gathering or engage with it rather casually. If that's not you, feel free to reblog to reach a wider audience, but the exercise in here will not be as useful.

A few months back, the game released a new Base Set of cards called Foundations. It is meant to be a new batch of hundreds of cards that will always be available, that are simpler on average (though not necessarily less powerful) to be a point of entry for new players. Something else it does wonderfully is be a palette of the many worlds, aesthetics and vibes within the game. This is where you come in:

This is the important bit below

Take a look at the cards in the set! You don't even have to read them, there are many, many of them. If one of them or more catches your attention, reblog this post with an image of it, and if you want to learn anything more about it! Be it the world it depicts, its history within the game, or even the mechanics if they are what intrigues you.

This is the important bit above

Some of the cards are either generic or from worlds we haven't visited yet, but the vast majority fit within a larger whole, and there might be more like them to point at! I will try to elaborate on what you want to learn, and maybe even point you towards similar cards or entire card sets on the world or subject you took note of.

In case you're totally unfamiliar with the game, I'll put a short summary under the cut:

Magic: the Gathering is a fantasy trading card game that's over thirty years old. People are invited to create their own deck of cards out of a pool of nearly 30,000 different cards at this point. The gameplay has been summed up many times as being something that sits in between Chess and Poker as far as overall appeal, though the actual action-by-action game is unlike both of them. Just like with playing cards, though not as extreme, there are different ways to play with the cards too, varying which are legal, or the exact rules they're played under.

It is a deep game that can be enjoyed at many levels of engagement, and will take exactly as much time and money out of you as you're willing to give it. From $0 free to play gaming on arena or occasional board game night engagement, to spending hundreds regularly to keep up with a tournament metagame, to spending thousands if not tens of thousands on super rare collectible cards.

In the past few years, Magic has started collaborating with other franchises to make cards for their properties. Lord of the Rings, Fallout, Doctor Who, and plenty more, though it keeps making cards for its own worlds and lore.

That lore can be summed up as a magical multiverse full of very different worlds, each with their own aesthetics, magics, factions and struggles. They are interconnected by rare mages that are able to travel between them, and a major event recently started connecting them further, allowing the layperson to be able to travel between them using less practical ways to do so. Within those worlds, stories happen, sometimes through the cards themselves, sometimes through written fiction, be them novels, online stories or even comic books. Magic cards are divided into five different colors of magic, each with its own associated philosophy, elemental associations, mechanics, aesthetics. Those five colors can then combine and interact to form complex characters, factions, spells and more.

[the-cosmic-cauldron]

Venus can reveal how we judge others based on its elemental placement. Read below to see how your element influences your judgments.

And yes, I understand that some of you are pure souls who claim to never judge—but let’s be honest, most of us have a messy side!

Fire Venus: Character Focused Judgments

Fire Venus individuals tend to judge people quickly. They often criticize others for being weak, overly cautious, or too passive, as they dislike those who don’t go after what they want. They might talk about how they feel superior to someone else and often gain attention themselves. As a result, they may view others as boring or uninteresting.

Fire Venus placements can also be judgmental about a person’s friends or the family they come from. They pride themselves on being able to detect fake friendships and generally dislike people they perceive as fake, uppity, or pretentious. They often criticize others for not being more free-spirited or for being uptight.

When it comes to fashion, they have a clear sense of what they like. While they aren’t necessarily trying to stand out, they will judge someone who seems to be trying too hard to appear aesthetic. They may also look down on people who lack personality, are overly submissive or docile in relationships, or don’t exhibit any dominance. Additionally, they can be critical of those who are consistently negative, pessimistic, or down.

Earth Venus: Status Oriented Judgments

Earth Venus individuals are highly particular and often more judgmental than Fire Venus. While Fire Venus judges based on qualities they take pride in within themselves, Earth Venus can judge others even when they feel insecure. Their judgment spans across a wide range of things, making them very critical.

They’ll judge people based on their accomplishments—or the lack thereof. If they can’t visibly see someone’s achievements, they’re likely to criticize them for not doing enough with their life. Earth Venus individuals are also very nitpicky about style and fashion. They might focus on the smallest details, such as how someone wears their hair, applies makeup, or accessorizes with jewelry. Even personal scent and hygiene can be points of judgment.

They also assess whether someone appears goal-oriented or organized. If a person seems directionless or like they’re just “floating” through life, Earth Venus will judge them harshly. They place heavy emphasis on physical appearance, often making quick judgments about whether someone is attractive or not.

Education and career are other areas where Earth Venus is critical. They may judge someone for not going to college, for having fewer than two degrees, or for not earning a certain salary. Where someone lives, the hobbies they pursue, and even the family they come from are all potential areas of scrutiny. Earth Venus individuals tend to form opinions about a person’s friends and social circle as well.

Unconventional lifestyles are another source of judgment; they’re quick to label someone “weird” for living differently. They are incredibly judgmental about body weight, daily habits, and even how others approach the same tasks they do. Even if someone achieves the same outcome, Earth Venus might criticize them for not doing it the “right” way—their way.

Overall, Earth Venus is arguably the most judgmental of all Venus placements. They evaluate everything with a critical eye and often hold people to impossibly high standards.

Air Venus: Cerebral and Social Judgments

Air Venus individuals can also be highly judgmental, often driven by their superficial tendencies. They tend to place a significant emphasis on appearances and may judge someone solely based on how they look or present themselves to the world. If someone doesn’t meet their standards of physical attractiveness or style, they can be very critical.

They also value intellect and are quick to judge others based on their intelligence. They’re not afraid to label someone as “dumb,” “slow,” or “stupid” if they feel the person lacks knowledge or common sense. Air Venus individuals are the type to say, “common sense isn’t so common.” If someone doesn’t understand certain things, they may become irritated and judgmental, often calling people out for it.

They’re critical of overly emotional people and those who don’t rely on facts or logic. Air Venus individuals tend to judge those they perceive as monotonous, boring, or close-minded. Traditional people, in particular, might rub them the wrong way, as Air Venus often gravitates toward progressive or innovative ideas.

Materialism can also play a role in their judgments. They may criticize someone who doesn’t follow the latest trends or lacks certain material possessions they deem valuable. They are keenly aware of how people talk, what they support, and how they engage in conversation. If someone struggles to hold their attention or lacks conversational depth, they’ll likely judge them.

Air Venus is also critical of people who are overly demanding, dependent, or emotionally attached. They value independence and will judge anyone they perceive as clingy or too reliant on them. Additionally, they are quick to form opinions about those who disagree with their views or fail to align with their way of thinking.

Overall, Air Venus individuals can be harshly critical, often holding people to high intellectual and social standards while heavily prioritizing aesthetics and independence.

Water Venus: Emotionally Driven Judgment

Water Venus individuals base their judgments primarily on how they feel about others, making their evaluations deeply personal and subjective. They often rely on their intuition, sensing people’s energy and deciding, “I don’t like this person” or “I don’t like how this person is.”

Interestingly, they dislike overly judgmental people. If someone judges them, they’ll respond in kind, criticizing that person for being judgmental. Water Venus placements also judge others based on their sentimentality and capacity to care. To earn their approval, you need to be nurturing, loving, and compassionate. If you fail to meet these standards, they’ll label you as cold, dry, heartless, or uncaring. They are especially critical when they feel someone lacks true empathy.

Additionally, Water Venus individuals judge people who are overly materialistic or superficial. They have a strong dislike for those who prioritize appearances or wealth over genuine qualities. If someone only cares about looks or money, a Water Venus will quickly criticize them for being shallow or insincere.

In essence, their judgments are rooted in emotional authenticity, care, and depth. They value meaningful connections and are quick to judge anyone who doesn’t align with these principles.

[lu-is-not-ok]

Nocturnal Sweeping Intervallo teaser frame-by-frame analysis

That's right, you didn't think I was going to leave this teaser without saying anything about it, did you? In fact, I have. Way too fucking much to say really.

Before anything though, I wanna give a shout out to @chorin342 for the translations of the hanzi that shows up during the trailer, which helped A Lot with figuring out what awaits us.

Now, onto the trailer itself.

After the several seconds long title screen of the Intervallo, we're given another view of the setting, this time with a sort of tv screen-esque overlay. The whole teaser seems to be somewhat structured to mimic a sort of action movie trailer, potentially hinting to this potentially being a more action-packed Intervallo.

The text (which in case it's hard to read on the screenshot says "We were greeted by a dark street upon disembarking from the bus, illuminated only by faints strands of light.") accompanying this CG seems to be a part of Dante's narration based on its contents. We're likely seeing a glimpse of just the intro part of the Intervallo.

After a few seconds, the following pops up on the screen with a booming sound effect:

This simply translates to "District 8", further confirming information that is about to be revealed.

Just as this text disappears, the narration continues, saying "It was immediately obvious that we had arrived in the Backstreets of H Corp."

Similarly to what I and many other speculated, we are going to H Corp's District, and the Intervallo specifically takes place within its Backstreets.

Then, we get the two following bits of text:

This translates to "Hongyuan/Hong garden Life Engineering Corporation". Or, as the second one illuminates, the full name of "H Corp".

In addition to the reveal of H Corp being a company that specializes in engineered life, the character for the "Hong" part of the name is the exact same as used in Hong Lu's own name. The connection is already clear and we're barely fifteen seconds into the teaser.

Then we're onto the Identity trailers, with the above literally just being that. "Identity".

Both the Outis and Ryoshu Identities belong to the Heishou Pack - Mao Branch. Heishou translating to Black Beast, and Mao translating to Rabbit in the context of the twelve Chinese zodiac animals, as well as Wood in the context of the five Chinese elements.

I'm not going to go over the Identity trailers in too much detail, but I will mention things that I think will be important to the plot of the Intervallo.

The Mao Branch of the Heishou Pack appear to be a group hired by whoever they call "lord". Notably, both Identities express that their loyalty lays with the one that holds that title, rather than a specific individual. They're shown to be ready to betray the one who formerly carried that title at a day's notice, and are aware of their nature enough to deem themselves inherently untrustworthy.

In both trailers the Identities face off against average-looking gangsters. Those are likely to be the enemies we face off during the intro part of the Intervallo, before we run into any Sweepers.

According to the Identities' other voice lines, the Mao Branch's job takes place primarily during the night, potentially "taking care" of whatever target they're given by their lord by killing them in the middle of the night and letting the Sweepers clean them up before anyone can find any evidence.

Ryoshu's Identity here also makes a very interesting comment, about how the Mao Branch has "the same roots" as R Corp's Rabbit Pack, but "have grazed on different grass" and thus comparing them to each other is deemed stupid. Considering the implication of H Corp being a "life engineering" company and R Corp's technology in cloning, this might imply that their respective technologies are in some way similar in nature, yet different enough that it'd be stupid to actually compare them.

I also want to make a small observation about the aesthetics of the group. Specifically their color palette of black and yellow. It honestly kind of reminds me of the Udjat and Arbiters, and considering both of those are essentially military forces (hired by a private individual and a governing body respectively) it might allude to the Heishou Pack's nature as being not that unlike them.

Alright, back to the rest of the trailer.

We get another CG of the Backstreets, alongside what appears to be actual dialogue. (In case it's too hard to read, it says "A-are you sure we're going the right way? I don't like the sound of that weird song...") The most likely candidate to be saying this is Sinclair due to his tendency to stutter and appear nervous when he speaks, but it could be someone else as well.

Either way, this line implies that someone is guiding the Sinners through the Backstreets, potentially into somewhere dangerous and definitely suspicious.

Another text appears:

This literally translates to "round medicine", but it also appears to be the same word as used in two of Xichun's passives, that being bolus. Bolus in this context likely refers to a type of medicine administration, where a dose is introduced to the body to take effect over a short period of time.

Considering H Corp's "life engineering" (perhaps even downright bioengineering) tech, they might have a notable interest in pharmaceuticals as well.

Next scene.

Another view of the Backstreets, this time giving us a clear view of the Mansion taking up the entire goddamn skybox.

The text here (reading "The main streets are most likely teeming with those seeking to bring harm to the young master. We must venture an alternative path.") appears to be a piece of dialogue from an unknown party.

What we can tell about this person is that for one, they're the one guiding the Sinners through the Backstreets, meaning that the Sinners are completely at the mercy of this unknown party. The second thing we can tell about them however is that they're clearly aware of Hong Lu's identity and his ties to the Jia Family.

Considering what we've seen in the Identity trailers, I'd like to suggest that the Heishou Pack aren't going to be our enemies, or at least not at the start. They're likely to be hired by the Jia Family, and thus would have interest in keeping Hong Lu "safe". However, just because they want to protect the young master from harm, doesn't mean they feel the same way about the rest of the Sinners... if you know what I mean.

Next hanzi show up here.

This one translates to "complex" in the context of a building. This could potentially refer to the Mansion in the background, calling it a complex and thus potentially a sort of conglomerate of multiple Mansions. Alternatively, it could be referring to the dwellings Sweepers use, calling those dens a complex of their own.

After this we get a quick glimpse of a black screen getting covered with red Sweeper eyes and a rising noise. Likely foreshadowing as to what awaits the Sinners if they are to follow their new guide.

The scene changes again.

Multiple things. While I didn't capture it in this screenshot, combat takes place in the background here. While it's hard to make out because of the big fuckass hanzi in the way, it appears as if the Heishou Pack is fighting alongside the Sinners rather than against them, further implying that they're the ones guiding them through the Backstreets.

The hanzi here translates to "life insurance". This honestly could refer to a lot of things. It could refer to the Heishou Pack's role as being there to insure Hong Lu preserves his life. It could refer to H Corp's interest in immortality and thus insuring their own life. It could even potentially imply that H Corp deals with more literal life insurance, perhaps being in the business of insuring people with "spare lives" not unlike the situation of Pamela and Pameli in Ruina.

Notably, the "life" in life insurance here uses different characters to the ones commonly used in the term. However, this could just be an instance of PM being a Korean speaking company and thus not knowing the "proper" spelling of the phrase. A mistake in similar nature to them flipping Linton's first and last name, or calling "Don" a surname rather than a title in the original Korean script.

The dialogue here (reading "Looks like everyone in the Backstreets has been getting pretty plucky while I was away. Back then, I could even catch a glimpse of their faces-") is pretty clearly coming from Hong Lu, and continues on (reading "-Because they'd all be on their hands and knees whenever we walked past... Ah, what a wonderful change!").

This bit of dialogue establishes multiple things. For one, the Jia Family is important enough to garner extreme amounts of veneration from District 8 citizens, even out in the Backstreets. However, and more interestingly, for whatever reason Hong Lu alone isn't eliciting the same reaction. Whether it's because as Hong Lu says and there his been a shift in the status quo in the Backstreets, or whether it's something else that is causing people to not recognize Hong Lu as part of the Family is currently unclear.

Then, Ricardo Announcer. You get nothing from me about that, I just find it really fucking funny.

Then, back to the mayhem.

Here the text translates to "east" as in the context of a region. Which, makes sense. We are in the East region of the City now, this is likely a reference to that.

The dialogue here (reading "Oi, up yours with that wonderful change! How much longer 'til we get there?!") very likely comes from Heathcliff judging by the wording. It further foreshadows the suspicious nature of the Sinners' guides and that they might not be leading them where they think they are.

And, in case that wasn't already being made clear, in the background a wave of Sweepers just fucking descends upon the Sinners before static takes over the screen and we're back to the core event illustration.

So.

Let's summarize what we can gather from this trailer.

Our current destination, H Corp's District, is run by Hongyuan Life Engineering Corporation, a Wing with an interest in life insurance and pharmaceuticals. The Jia Family appears to be highly regarded in this District, to the point of likely being the ones who hired the Mao Branch of the Heishou Pack, a group specializing in operations under the cover of the night who are loyal to those holding certain ranks rather than to specific individuals.

Upon their arrival, the Sinners would come in contact with this group, who would recognize Hong Lu as a young master of the Family that hired them, and would thus wish to ensure his safety and likely return him to his home. As such, they serve as guides and allies for the first part of the Intervallo's plot.

However, the path this Pack leads the Sinners down is suspicious and long, and eventually leads them towards the Sweepers. There is a high chance that this was the Pack's trap all along, whether their motives are to take Hong Lu out because of an order from one of his siblings or to retrieve him and take him back to the Mansion while leaving the rest of the Sinners to die is yet to be seen. Either way however one thing is clear - the Black Beasts are indeed not to be trusted.

[reagent-leon]

Let's talk about pre-Sinyala Coyle!!

Okay so, I’m really into character design, and I’ve noticed that a lot of people who draw pre-Sinyala Coyle tend to miss out some cool details about his Blackwell uniform. So, I figured I’d break it all down, covering 1950s fashion conventions, how Coyle blatantly ignores them, why he gets away with it, and some extra points about his overall dodgy behaviour. Because this post spiralled out of control.

Before we jump in, a quick note: Because of the comic’s style, there are definitely some inconsistencies, but I’ll do my best to piece things together. If you're into history, fashion, and Leland Coyle, stick around 🖤

First, some historical context.

Whether we like it or not, personal grooming and aesthetics have always played a big role in how we’re perceived. But in the 1950s, fashion wasn’t as focused on self-expression as it is today. Rather than standing out, most people aimed for conformity, with conservative ideals and public perception heavily influencing fashion choices. How someone dressed and presented themselves to the world immediately signalled their social status, character, and values. Maintaining a facade of respectability and adhering to social norms was a priority for most.

After World War II, being clean-shaven became a key part of a man's appearance. This was partly inspired by young men who had served in the military. Veterans accustomed to shaving daily carried the habit into civilian life. Of course, not everyone was clean-shaven, but facial hair was generally more common among older generations, as well as musicians, and actors, people who could flout convention without damaging their reputations.

By the mid-1950s, however, facial hair started making a bit of a comeback, thanks to cultural icons like Elvis Presley and Johnny Cash. Alternative hairstyles, especially those associated with greasers, weren’t widely accepted in professional settings. Instead, they became symbols of rebellion, linked to actors, outcasts, and those who rejected the status quo rather than conventional, well-to-do citizens.

With that out of the way, let's talk about Coyle!

Thanks to the comics and in-game documents, we know that Coyle meets Clyde Perry in a Blackwell diner on February 16th 1956. Based on what we can piece together from his past, Coyle would have been around 33 years old at the time. Perry’s account of the altercation directly tells us that Coyle was well-liked and respected within his community.

Blackwell was (and perhaps still is) an extremely conservative town, where conformity to social norms would have been enforced through intense social pressure. The fear of negative judgment would have kept most people compliant. This makes Coyle’s deviation from 1950s conventions all the more apparent, though when we consider his past, things begin to make a bit more sense.

From both the comics and Coyle’s in-game dialogue, we know he had a troubled childhood (details to follow in a separate post). His adolescent delinquency eventually landed him in a military academy. However, his honourable service in the U.S. Marine Corps during World War II, combined with his undeniable charisma likely convinced most locals that he was a reformed man, paving the way for his position as a police sergeant.

His rough-around-the-edges persona may have only added to his charm, allowing him to get away with behaviour that might have otherwise raised eyebrows, such as openly flirting with a waitress or publicly beating a man senseless.

Although Coyle is primarily depicted as a silhouette in most full-body images, we can still piece together details of his uniform. Interestingly, his attire aligns more with a 1940s police officer than one from the mid-1950s. This could be a deliberate design choice to emphasize how both Coyle and the town he rules over are stuck in the past.

His uniform has a few key features:

Sam Browne belt – A leather belt with a supporting strap that runs over the shoulder and connects to a waist belt.

Standing collar & shoulder boards – Formal elements more common in earlier decades.

Shoes instead of boots – Just a note for the artists in the room. 

Utility belt essentials – Includes a handgun, handcuffs, and a nightstick, which were standard for the time.

We get a clearer look at the general appearance of his uniform from some of the police cutouts in the Trials, though none of them feature a Sam Browne belt.

Coyle’s hair defies the social conventions of the time. It isn’t styled into any particular fashion and appears free of product, an unusual choice for a police officer, who would typically be expected to maintain a polished image, if not for personal pride, then at least for professionalism's sake. His hairline is noticeably receding, and it’s possible he combed it forward to disguise the thinning. By the time the events of the game take place, he’s completely bald, whether from stress-induced hair loss or simply shaving it once the recession became too obvious to hide. Pure speculation on my part. 

His stubble, mussed hair, and unfastened top button suggest that when he meets Perry, he’s either finished work for the day or, at the very least, on his lunch break.

I found a few references of what I think Coyle's hair would look like because the comic is very bad at keeping it consistent. I went out of my way to find a guy with sideburns too. (Don't say I never do anything for you.) It's also worth noting that Julian Bailey, Coyle's VA had a receding hairline in years past. It's my personal belief that they used Julian's face as a reference for this younger version of Coyle.

As a ‘respectable’ police sergeant, he should present himself as buttoned-up, clean, and tidy, proudly representing the Blackwell Police Department and setting a good example for his subordinates. Instead, everything about his presentation suggests a man who sees himself as above reproach, someone who enforces social conventions but doesn’t feel the need to follow them himself. In fact, one could argue he’s rewarded for breaking them, receiving positive attention from women despite (or perhaps because of) his disregard for propriety.

Coyle placing his hat on the waitress is a particularly bold move, especially given the strict dating conventions of the 1950s. Historically, a man placing his hat on a woman's head was a flirtatious gesture, a subtle but effective way of ‘claiming’ her, particularly in cowboy culture (Coyle’s parents were cattle ranchers, cowboy Coyle is canon).

In this context, it’s unlikely to be a genuine display of interest. More than anything, it’s a power play, a deliberate act of pushing the limits of propriety while asserting his dominance. The real impact comes when Perry walks in, seeing Coyle has already ‘marked his territory,’ immediately undermining Perry and ensuring he feels off-balance in the face of Coyle’s effortless machismo. 

At the comic's conclusion, while Perry is driving away, injured but alive, he looks back to see Coyle standing outside the diner, wearing his police cap. At some point, he must have retrieved it from the waitress, likely with a charming, offhand apology for making a scene. Coyle doesn’t need to kill Perry to send a message, because letting him live IS the message. And Perry hears it loud and clear.

A quick side note, this isn’t so much about Coyle’s appearance, but rather his character.

When Oklahoma became a state in 1907, it adopted prohibition as part of its constitution, remaining a dry state up until 1959. Alcohol was largely banned, though moonshiners and speakeasies operated in secret, often with local law enforcement turning a blind eye. As a consequence, one of the only widely acceptable alcoholic beverages was “low-point beer” a drink containing just 3.2% alcohol, considered non-intoxicating under state law.

Perry states that Coyle ‘drank heavily’ before their encounter, but the fact that it was low-alcohol beer explains how he could be four pints down and still completely in control when it came to beating Perry.

It’s possible Coyle was pulling a deliberate ruse, letting Perry believe he was drunker than he actually was. If so, it wasn’t just about drinking, it was a test. Coyle may have wanted to see if Perry would try to take advantage of what seemed like a weakened opponent, only to prove that he was never at a disadvantage to begin with.

For a police officer to drink so openly in a conservative Christian town flies in the face of everything he’s supposed to uphold. Yet no one seems to care, or at least, no one dares to challenge him. Maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s respect. Either way, Coyle knows exactly what he can get away with, and he enjoys every second of it.

There are plenty of inconsistencies in the comic, and the art style doesn’t always make the details easy to see. Honestly, I could spend forever picking it apart and analyzing it, and one day, I probably will.

But in the meantime… I hope it's been informative. And I hope that some artists who draw pre-Sinyala Coyle will start depicting him in his Blackwell uniform. As much as I love a leather jacket, I’m a sucker for those military-style uniforms.

I hope you enjoyed this little dive into Coyle and his antics. Before I wrap up, I’m leaving you with a picture I annotated—it was meant to be the main image for this post, but... it’s awful. Apologies in advance if it hurts your eyes.

If you enjoyed my descent into madness, please inflict it upon your friends. I welcome friendly and constructive conversation in the comments. And hey, if you think I’m talking out of my arse, that’s your prerogative! This wasn’t meant as a critique, just the ramblings of someone who spends far too much time pondering the hows and whys of this man.

Well done if you made it this far, and thank you for reading!

As usual big shoutout to the Coyle Crew @misa-bun @decayinghost @soggy-bean for enabling me

[vitiligo-is-not-a-trend]

FAQ (PLEASE READ BEFORE SENDING ANY ASKS!):

I have vitiligo does that mean I can't do X, Y, or Z?:

If you have vitiligo: Welcome to the club :D! In general this advice is mainly aimed towards people who don't have vitiligo, BUT if you do, do what you want! The only thing I would ask of you is to be aware that A) People might not be aware that you have vitiligo which is why you're taking liberates with it, B) People might try to emulate your depiction so if someone without the disorder doing something you might find uncomfortable, keep that in mind! and C) Be mindful of whether or not you're contributing to potentially harmful stereotypes! I'm not going to tell you, someone with the disability, that things are off limits, and I am aware that not everyone feels the same about this disorder, but keeping those things in mind won't hurt anybody!

Is it okay for vitiligo to be animal or shape based in pattern?:

NO. It's de-humanizing and harmful as many ablest insults aimed towards people with this disorder are animal-based. Also it purposefully goes out of it's way to make a person less human purely because they're disabled, which is obviously ablest in itself. Vitiligo is a disorder, NOT an aesthetic.

The same applied for characters inspired or based on animals, especially ones that are patterned.

YES this also includes giving them patterns like paint splotches, hearts, stars, and other stuff like that.

How does vitiligo develop?:

Vitiligo is an auto-immune disorder, which means its genetics based, BUT(!) it is not something you are born with, and needs to be developed through a person's life time. There are theories as to how it develops but as far as I'm aware there's no one solid answer.

Are POC the only people who can develop vitiligo?:

Nope! Vitiligo can occur in anyone of any race/ethnicity. The reason why you only see people with darker skin tones portrayed with it is because there's more visual contrast, thus making it seem more unique/distinct/obvious.

What does this blog offer?:

I do all sorts of things! I show examples of vitiligo represented in media, answer any questions people might have about it in general, questions specific to character/plots, character design tips, and sensitivity reading just to name a few!

Why am I not answering an ask?

I've got a few mental and physical conditions which make me extremely tired all the time and sometimes I just don't have the mental energy to do it </3

Also some asks are tricky! I might just horde the ask until I can think of a proper way to respond or if vitiligo finally gets enough media rep that I can do a proper analysis or make an actual wish-list lol.

Who runs this blog?:

@trinrose3! I developed vitiligo when I was 7 years and and for the majority of the time that I've had this disorder I felt disgusted and ashamed of it. Over the last few years I've learned to appreciate my vitiligo, as well as develop a slight hyperfixation on it in general, so I made this blog in order to spread awareness and positivity!

I'm the only one running this joint so if I'm being a little slow to answer an ask please be patient <3

Also here's a link to my ko-fi I'm struggling to pay bills and the health issues, job market, and other life circumstances are making it really hard right now so every penny is appreciated! I also take art commissions!

https://ko-fi.com/trinrose3

[plat3uau]

I honestly do not know where to begin or how to even write a decent looking introduction, so allow me to just drop this and leave…🤣😭

Okay, but jokes aside, since I’ve been getting really into visual storytelling lately, I just thought “Huh, why not test it out with Jingluo, and capture their dynamic while trying to add a fairytale-like elements to it?”

Also, I genuinely want to become even more expressive through my art, overall… and I guess it’s also an excuse to draw even more stuff related to the two (shhhh, and excuse me for the repetition.😫😫)

Notes on the title (that I think might be needed): I know the matter of language isn’t relevant to the game’s plot at all, but for some reason I’ve developed the headcanon that Luocha is good at picking up languages, as he travels a lot. (I see him just… being very quick at adapting and blending in with the locals’ way of doing things, in that kind of sense. <3)

We don’t really know much about him as for now (still waiting for that lore drop, though!!), but judging from his appearance and aesthetics (so please take this with a grain of salt), he looks like (at least to me) a character from a place based off Europe or the West… So because of that, I had the view that Luocha might have had a harder time actually writing down/learning by heart the Chinese characters (or at least the writing system there) commonly used by the people in the Luofu, when he first set foot there (I mean, I thought of that as it’s a region very much inspired by Chinese culture), since most European languages use the Latin script as for their writing system.

So hopefully this explains why there are two inscriptions: the one on the left side of the canvas is actually written by Luocha, and the other one being the translated version of the title!🥰

(P.S. I tried to translate the title in Chinese to make the Luocha’s writing seem… how to say, more believable? More real? Anyways, I ended up with “我在你身边”, which translates into “I will stand beside you”, so not super faithful to the original title, but I believed that the essence of the general meaning of the original one was still there, so I decided to go along with it.

I’m no native speaker here nor a translator, just a person who studied some Mandarin for a while. T - T❤️)

(P.S.S. I’ll try to keep you updated! My creative process is usually quite slow, so I was thinking that maybe I could share some of the wips with you all. Or you know, just to document some of my thoughts, that kind of stuff. ^_^

Alright!!! I wrote too much, and honestly, BLESS your heart for reading through my stream of consciousness, lmao. But I genuinely appreciate it, I really REALLY mean this.🥺❤️

Thank you so much for taking your time to do so. To whoever reached this point. <3)