#self indulgent rambling

[votive-candle]

So I've been considering a rebrand on this blog for a long time for "professional" reasons... like changing my username, making an official portfolio with my name to it elsewhere, etc.

This idea has been mostly motivated by this deep insecurity I have surrounding what I would say is either NSFW work, suggestive art, "fangirl" energy, all that. And it's... frustrating, to say the least. And difficult express in a way that's coherent. Because my personal feelings are that art, even art that within the sphere of industry that I want to approach (ie. game art & story design, character writing and so on), should not have to be confined within this box of "sensibilities" that I'm told it should be.

If I was doing fine art like painting, or making installations, or sculpture, I get a sense that this puritanical ideology of self-censorship would not be expected of me. I also get a sense that if I was born male and lived as a man, there would be different industry expectations of me also. If I was a cis dude I don't think a game director would mind if I had a portfolio full to the brim with borderline naked, hypersexualised women and girls with big swords and huge racks (no shade, big boobs and big swords are fun and cool). But -- and again I don't have evidence of this, it's just a hunch -- I somehow get this idea that the way I approach drawing masculine figures? The way I write and express myself through, and speak about characters? The sexually explicit artwork I've drawn over the years, which majoritively does not even show genitalia? I get this gut feeling that this would be much less... palatable (?) in the industry for commercial, media focused art.

I've been drawing sexual content since I was a teen fangirl and I think it's really strange that somehow, as I get older and more mature (and I'm serious here, like really, let that sink in? I was told directly "you're not a kid anymore, potential employers won't like this" in response to shipping art an old tutor saw me post online a few years back?), it's considered in many ways less appropriate for me to produce explicit or sexually themed artwork. Particularly when that art has that air of "fangirl" (or "fan-person" in regards to myself) around it. Because "fangirls" aren't professional, are they? They're vapid, of course. They don't consume art meaningfully, not like strong, stoic men do. No, they just want their shipping and their coffeeshop AU's and their moodboards, and there's nothing creative in that, is there? No "professional practice" there.

I just find that... baffling

I'm speaking from the perspective of someone who is borderline asexual on that spectrum, and always has been. Somehow, professionalism is partly hinged on making your art less exploratory of adult themes, once you become an adult, once you're old enough to understand and properly illustrate the importance of adult themes. Isn't that strange to anyone else? Because to me it feels wrong.

Like I said, I'm borderline asexual. I don't draw sexual content to get my rocks off. I draw it because I find physical intimacy to be one of the most multifascited expressions of humanity between people. Sex and sexuality are so dynamic in their capacity for storytelling. With it (and safely so through fiction, if you're careful about it), you can express and explore so much; passion obviously, love, but also sadness and grief and condolence, malice and rage, heartbreak, self-destruction, self-improvement, excitement, fun, even just friendship.

Sex is beautifully dynamic from a humanistic standpoint. It shouldn't need to be considered this looming force of demonitisation, or an industry blockade. And I understand I have drawings that are too graphic, too NSFW to put in a professional portfolio, to leave online for employers to see. But I'm not even talking about smut here.

Majoritively, I really don't want to distance myself from a lot of this work I've created. It means something to me dude, because these characters and stories mean something to me. Sometimes the drawing itself is just... a technically well executed drawing. I don't want to revoke that because there's an implication of "ooh, someone's touching ass, breast and dick in there!"

Yet by expressing my excitement over that, I do feel cornered. Like I'll never get hired anywhere. Which isn't easy given the struggles I already have with disability, mental health, etc. So I feel a need to sort of give in and retcon a lot of my posts.

I don't like that finding work in the fields I'm interested in kind of hinges on a lack of self-expression, I suppose. I find it bitterly ironic since I want to work in creative fields. It feels like a betrayal of the self and of the purpose of art and good media for grown individuals.

But hey, I guess that's capitalism, baby.

This blog might change a bit in the near or semi-near future. Maybe a new username or profile pic, I'm not sure yet. Maybe a second blog will pop up somewhere. I just wanted to vent a bit on my disdain in having to make these decisions. Beg your pardon.

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

Less-Abstract Art

On this trip I've seen a lot of words on the walls and distorted baby faces in all the fine art paintings my son walks past or stands in front of in about a dozen museums. The words on the walls are painted on city street overpasses too. It's not anyone's job to remove graffiti here that I can tell, and I'm glad they leave it. I like reading the writing on the walls, whatever walls it's on.

In Scotland I saw a couple at the bus stop 7 floors below our hotel room window holding each other close. He touched her face. They kissed. I've written scenes like that a hundred times. I smiled at them but they couldn't see me up above. 'Just like a movie,' I thought. 'I'd write a scene just like that.'

I've seen couples holding hands everywhere we go and I find myself envying them with a similar intensity as I did when I was a lonely asexual teenage romantic who wondered why no one wanted to hold my hand through an art museum or riding a bus or waiting in line to buy tickets for something. (Knowledge I wish I had then: it was because I didn't want to fuck them-in order to get hand holding you have to give penetrative sex, or at least the future prospect of it, at least a blow job or something-something-SOMETHING Jennifer. Christ you think holding hands is free?) Now I'm married to a man I fuck and give blow jobs to very regularly but I still don't get the hand holding or the bus stop snuggling sweetness when we travel. He's too occupied leading--Hit the tube station at this time to make the tour slot I booked; I'll walk in front because I'm tall and you can see me and no one will get lost.

There are 3 of us, which means one of us is always alone when seats are paired off. It's usually me. I usually make sure it's me. Just like I eat the heels of the bread; I use the pieces of everything no one else wants. He doesn't feel well, and we didn't pack 250 ibuprofen to not look like criminals in international airports, but that means I'm not taking any for my own aching back and legs so he can take the ones we have for his pain. 'We can always buy more,' he says, and without making any sort of uncomfortable sighs or faces or body language, bought himself and our son kind of pricey souvenirs, but I still feel guilty asking for an 8 pack of over the counter nsaids.

I'm taking care to not do anything that will make me seem like an Ugly American. I don't want to embarrass them. I don't want to need or want anything. I don't want to need the affection or want to go back out now for a sweet after dinner. I don't need the sweet. I shouldn't want it. I shouldn't want to buy different soap when there is some included at the hotel. I shouldn't be a baby and wish I had some Coke in this land of tea and coffee I don't like. I'm trying to stay quiet and small. Take up less space, eat less, want less, kind of be less. Less.

We went to see modern art today. My son's favorite to view. Most of it is abstract-minimalist. I like it too. I like Mark Rothko a lot. I like how he can make some seemingly simple painted squares of color make you feel something big and maybe scary when you look at them (there weren't any Rothkos here today). 'I could make that,' he says sometimes when we stand behind our son admiring the abstract in some world class museum over the past 3 years. 'But you didn't,' I said today, when he said it again.

I feel like abstract art.

I wish I was as simple as I look.

I wish I truly wanted and needed less, was happy with less, like people seem to assume from me. I wish I didn't have to argue that just because I look like less effort doesn't mean I am.

[teafiend]

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

I saw this and thought it would be fun. Tagged myself. 🤪

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

60.

(One shots, drabbles and ficlets/snippets/vignettes).

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

280,528 (as of 1st Nov, 2023)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Korean dramas “fandoms”.

“Sohn: The Guest”, “Voice”, “Glitch”, “Beyond Evil” and “A Time Called You” etc so far. Except for TG and “Voice”, I don’t have more than one work in the other “fandoms”.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. To Be a Part of You (Kang Kwon Joo/Mo Tae Gu) - Collection of related, smutty one shots.

2. Gossip (Kang Gil Young/Choi Yoon/Yoon Hwa Pyeong) - Mini one shot. There is mention of children.

3. Dying Just to Feel You by My Side (KKJ/MTG) - The starting story for the series ‘To Be A Part of You’ is in. Literal relationship negotiations (with a stalker).

4. Fly Me to The Moon (Hong Ji Hyo/Heo Bo Ra) - Collection of 100-word drabbles for this pair of chaotic, gorgeous cuties.

5. Brass Blossoms (KKJ/MTG) - Collection of 100-word drabbles.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why? Why not?

I always do.

I get very little interaction and try to respond to anyone kind enough to leave a comment (except for trolling ones).

Each and every comment is deeply appreciated.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?.

None. Am a HE/A-supremacist. I also can’t do angst, mostly due to skill issues.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All are relatively happy.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

So far, only one. On a fic for a rare pair in a relatively larger fandom. It was a mild “hate” comment(s) and was more hilarious to me than anything.

The audacity of some people! 😎

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes. All kinds, but mostly the vanilla flavoured ones, and not descriptively explicit. Even the “dub-con” and CNC ones are tepid.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Yes. Not crazy as much as I had lots of fun with other crack pairing(s) to fawn over.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. I mostly write rare pairs in minuscule, obscure fandoms. Nothing worth stealing.

Stealing anything fan work is abhorrent, however, so please don’t.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. But I have translated a fic to English - from an amazing writer - for one of the rare pairs I write for.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

Kang Gil Young/Choi Yoon.

I have too many favourites - from other fandoms, i.e., HaruMichi, Everlark, Mileven, Silverparry, Reylo, Romanogers, Nevmione etc, and all are special and unique to me - to put one at the top, but as one I write for (and visuals wise), KGY/CY is undoubtedly my favourite.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

You Are Not Allowed series. It is left as “completed” because I am just a snippet/single scene/one shot scribbler, but there is supposed to be an endgame there that I doubt I will ever write for again, though the ending is there in my mind.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Boringly straightforward and dry. It is not a strength but one I have to live with.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plot! Dialogue! Prose. Description of scenes, objects, characters. Well, basically everything.

I don’t have any pretensions I can write (or ever had any aspirations for writing), but am desperate to have my rare pairs occupy my mind for longer while I fixate on them, so… and scribbling word vomit is quite fun, so I scribble whenever my rare pairs visit me.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Haven’t done it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Sohn: The Guest.

20. Favourite fics you’ve written?

A Verb in Perfect View

(A collection of snapshots/snippets/ficlets for Kang Gil Young/Choi Yoon)

I like most of my fics - not because they are any good - just because they are the few available for my rare pairs. “Beggars can’t be choosers” and all that crock. 😆

[cj-the-random-artist]

Ok hear me out: Narilamb but they're both aroace and in a qpr.

I've been rolling around in my head for like a long long time this idea that Narinder and Lambert could both be aroace and (after like. A couple of centuries or so) end up in this like very comfortable very close relationship that neither of them define as anything specific other than calling it a "companionship". But on the other hand most of the cult thinks that they're dating in secret or something despite the fact that both of them have said they don't take lovers, because they are clearly very tight but maybe not super openly so, so maybe the cultists thing they're being secretive and hiding something or something like that. Idk but my aroace brain loves thinking about extremely close (mostly) platonic relationships and for some reason my brain decided hmm. I'm going to take this and throw it at Narilamb and see how I like it.

So then I decided to make a ridiculous joke comic about Narinder asking Lambert's hand in marriage specifically because he wants to get out of paying taxes. Because like, I know that spouse followers do actually still have to pay taxes in the actual game but. Hey Narinder and Lambert have presumably never married so they probably don't know that...? Honestly the only reason I made this was because the concept tickled me and I spent too much time on this for no one to see it, so. This comic and all it's absolute ridiculousness be upon ye.

While there's a tiny part of me that's been thinking about making this into an AU (which I'd probably call something like the "Strictly Platonic AU" or something), I know for a fact that I would blatantly not do anything legitimate with it so. It's an unofficial AU I guess?? But. Anyways. I thought this would be funny. Enjoy my ramblings and I hope you enjoy this thing that I spent. Actual time on. Lol

[onlinedolly]

“you like me, baby? that’s cute, you’re a sweet little thing. why don’t you show me, huh? take your top off for me, why don’t cha? bet you look so pretty with your tits out — yeah, yeah. just like that. god you’ve got pretty little tits, shhh don’t be embarrassed now baby, not when we’ve gotten this far. why don’t you— yeah show me your cunt. thaaaaaats right doll.”

• toji, kenpachi, gojo, getou, quanxi, bokuto !!

[lucabyte]

Different standards

[lazylittledragon]

new terrible woman unlocked i'm very excited

[whispereons]

Insecurity [Fem Reader x Yandere Male]

Masterlist

Warning! This is a VERY self indulgent yandere fic. Describes stalking and creepy behavior. Long descriptions of body shaming and (you guessed it) insecurities done by the reader. Done in one take and not edited very well.

Brains and brawn may compete to be superior. But it was beauty that triumphed both.

Beauty that you craved. To be beautiful, to be seen as attractive. Hell to even have someone think that you just made the cut to be 'cute' would be all you need.

Yet you never got a second glance your way all your life. The people around you, your friends, your family, even strangers on the street looked better then you.

Were you too fat? Too skinny? Disproportionate? Maybe your cheeks were chubby or gaunt.

You didn't know and every glance in the mirror was a scathing reminder of what was wrong with you, with your face, with your body.

A new flaw was found each time and the previous ones only grew worse.

It began small when you were just young enough to notice that pretty people were treated differently.

At first it didn't bother you, you would hit puberty, you would get that magical glow up sometime soon.

But those hopes grew dimmer with each passing day. Sure you changed but it was basically for the worse. Now you looked and felt awkward in your own body.

People you were interested in laughed around your friends freely and only gave a hesitant pitying chuckle or hum when you spoke. Right before going back to your friends without another glance as you would stare at the floor and worry if you said something bad or if you just looked bad.

But your friends had completely different genes then you. Surely it could just be an ethnicity preference right?

Nope, you were proven wrong when family members your age with similar enough skin tone or eye shape or lip shape or anything else you had who had no problem attracting people.

‘You shouldn't judge a book by its cover.’ 

‘The right person will like you for you and not your looks.’

Sayings that you took to heart to console yourself but it was like poison to your brain and heart.

The thoughts mutated from picking at your body to your personality too. Yet you still tried to be presentable in some way.

Scrubbing your body every shower till the skin was raw red. As many products you could get a hold on to treat the stubborn acne that just wouldn't go away. Plucking any out of place hairs on your face and shaving anything that could cause people to even think of you as hairy.

The only thing you didn't touch was the makeup that was tempting yet scary to you.

You heard everyone talk about it. Other girls bragging about how they snagged a hot guy with the right makeup. Only for the guys to whisper their disgust at their bare face.

Girls complaining about the increased acne and costs of make up. Guys praising about how ‘natural’ their girlfriends were when you could see the layers they had on, clearly unable to tell the difference.

Pros and cons were thrown all around but whenever you asked if make up was good or not, you recieved the same damn answer.

‘The right guy will like you for you. With or without makeup.’

You weren't oblivious to how neither told you that you were beautiful just the way you were.

The only ones who did were the sought after attractive women who only said it to console you in some way.

In the end you waited too long. By the time you got the courage to seriously try, you were out of high-school and too deeply involved in life to have time to struggle and fail.

It only ate away at your conscious but the fear of being ridiculed and laughed at for wearing bad makeup that made you even uglier then you already were was enough to stress you to tears.

What could you do but give up?

Maybe you were better off this way. 

Alone you weren't going to be hurt in a relationship. 

Alone you couldn't cry over your nonexistent boyfriend's insults when you fight.

Alone you would never be validated in your sinking thoughts of what a failure of person you were.

That's probably why you could never feel validated in whether you were attractive as you matured. The self loathing thoughts and feelings grew but you kept it locked away. 

Mirrors were scarcely seen and photos were always refused or just ignored. It was like the insults were written on your face for all to laugh at.

So why the hell were you the one targeted by some random guy in your college to be stalked?

This wasn't the first time you've seen him but this was definitely the closest he's ever come to you as you sit in a library just a table away from him.

His eyes were still on you as you stared nervously at your computer screen. You haven't been able to type a single word since you noticed his presence.

Subtly you looked up and scanned the room just to take another peek at him.

Yup, he was attractive as hell. Way out of your league.

Handsome, fit, and tall. He's got it all yet he's watching you with a smile that borders between sexy and hungry.

He's got the serial killer vibe down to the art cause that's the only fucking reason he could be stalking you for the past few weeks. 

It was around a month ago that you actually noticed him. Simply brushing off his glances as something he was directing to your friends.

After you left to the bathroom and came back you locked eyes with him. He kept that stare up even as you blushed and looked away.

It didn't even occur to you that he thought you were attractive, you just thought that you had food staining your lips.

Sitting back with your friends, you couldn't push down the feeling of being the ugly duckling as you all laughed at a joke yet yours was like nails on a chalkboard.

Loud, out of tune and unwanted.

It took a week for you to note the footsteps behind you whenever you walked back to your car after late night classes.

When you noticed that it was him again, you brushed it off thinking that he just had late classes.

His stares were probably just ones of worry since it was nearing midnight and you were walking alone. You had heard about him before, a kind man that was as charming as he was sweet.

An ideal man that you wouldn't suspect. Which only made the serial killer suspicion much stronger when you overheard him denying having classes on the days of your late night classes.

But even then it would be crazy to assume he's stalking you. At least until you saw his car parked just a block away from your house when you were positive he lived in a different city.

It was the weekend for crying out loud! There was no way in hell that he could be near your house every weekend.

But maybe he had family or friends or anything else attractive popular people had going on.

Besides if he was just normal and interested romantically, he would be chatting up your friends. If he was a serial killer then he would still be targeting your friends. You've never heard of a serial killer who only targeted ugly people. 

You'd rather be a surprise suicide then be known as a victim of a serial killer who's MO was ugly people. Even you had a limit.

But the anxiety over the situation was killing you. As a last ditch effort last week you decided to test something out.

Yesterday you loudly told your friends that you planned on doing some vigorous self studying tomorrow for the upcoming exam at the library. You knew that none of them would be able to make it due to their various personal responsibilities but that was the point.

And you were fucking right as he keeps his eyes on you when you knew he didn't have any classes today. And it's not like he's studying with his bag still on the chair and his lips sucking on the straw in the drink he had in his hands.

So what if you eyed the way his Adam's apple bobbed with each gulp?

He's probably planning on using this opportunity to kill you since you're all alone. Might as well let your eyes feast on something good before your death.

Holding back your anxiety over how he'll slaughter you, you heard another student walk up to him and clap his shoulder.

“What's good man? Didn't expect to see you here today. Thought you told me that your next class wasn't till Monday?”

Fucking called it!

But before you could celebrate your minor and frankly bad news considering that you've been confirmed to have a serial killer on your trail, you heard your stalker respond.

“Nothing much, just came here to study while we still have time before the midterms.” He chuckled and you could only bite your lips in jealousy.

Damn him for having such a nice voice. It was smooth and rich, the kind of voice you knew would make anyone melt at the sound.

An all around 10/10 and you wished that you could take even half a point from him.

It was too much, the revelation that you're going to be murdered soon paired with having to hear your soon to be murderer having got the greatest luck in life to be attractive was too distracting.

Packing up quickly you tried to leave without being noticed as you caught the end of the conversation.

“You should come to my place for the weekend. I've invited a few hot chicks and-”

“Sorry, I've already got plans for the this weekend. I'll be real busy till the exam and maybe even then for a while. I'll catch you later though.”

Walking out the library you made a beeline for the campus exit when you heard the heavy footsteps of him close by. 

Damn it, you should have just stayed inside.

The streets weren't very crowded as a festival was being held on the other side of the city for some holiday you didn't care to remember.

Therefore it quickly became just you and him on the walk to the garage. The tight grip you had on your bag loosened as you tried to rationalize everything. 

Maybe he wasn't a serial killer and you were just paranoid. Everything could just be a coincidence that you're blowing out of proportion.

Getting to your car you fumbled with your keys as the sweat of your palms made it hard to sort through. 

Maybe you weren't fucked is what you would think if a large hand wasn't pressed against the rim of your beat up car from behind you as hot air ghosted your neck.

“Sorry if I startled you, you're Y/n right? One of your friends was talking to me about you.”

Stiff as a board you turned around and all the blood drained from your face at the way he towered over you.

Only for it to come rushing back and burn your cheeks as he leaned down. Pretty eyes stared into yours as his soft yet slightly curled hair framed his face.

His lips pulled into a smile as you leaned away till your back was touching your car as he asked. “Sorry if this is a bit sudden but I needed some help with one of my classes and she said that you aced it last semester.”

“Do you mind coming over to my place tomorrow to help me with it?”

You were so fucked.

This right here is mostly for myself but also for all my fellow insecure girlies who can't get behind certain portrayals of fem readers.

I recently read one that gave such a detailed description of a fem readers body who didn't tag it correctly and felt like shit after reading.

This isn't going to be serious, it's comedic mostly and pretty much self indulgent as warned above. It's also an outlet for me to finally get those stupid thoughts out of my head.

It's also a callback to the original reason I was attracted to yanderes if it wasn't obvious. Also I have no clue on what name or appearance aside from his hair to give him. So if anyone has any ideas go ahead and put them in the comments or send a ask so I can decide.

[saturnplaza]

BASSISTS

ALL BASSISTS ARE FUCKING HOT IF YOU PLAY BASS I WANT YOU/hj

[gorgynei]

new werewolf enid design because my brain latched onto the idea of her having a mexican grey wolf inspired coat

[deviouz]

jason todd is a thick thigh and chubby tummy lover. i will not be accepting any criticism

[batmasc]

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Jason sings along to the car radio with you, and he sounds good doing it!!

He's got one hand on the steering wheel and one hand on your thigh while his thumb rubs circles over your skin. (There's not a thing that could wipe the smile off his face)

[teafiend]

Oh, this was an unexpectedly nostalgic - and fun - show. I did not expect to go in and get a refresher course in “Pop Buddhism for Idiots”, nor the campy and breezy story. Neither did I anticipate the hilarity of watching Won Mi Ho (aka Lee Da Hee) run around screaming as demons chased after her in all her perfectly made up and fashioned stunning self, not one hair out of place.

It was funny, “unserious” and wacky. Just the kind of show I needed after a few heartbreaking and sobering crime/law procedural dramas.

It was far from perfect and made me laugh even when not intended, but as long as it did, I could care less whether it was fully intentioned or not. Not being a major fan of CGI or long action scenes, the less said about those on my part, the better. Overall, however, I think those aspects are acceptable for a show of this caliber.

Oh, I certainly did not expect another hot priest. Though this one is a bit too young to drool over, he is nonetheless extremely good looking and cute.

Kim Nam Gil, well, what else is there to say. ❤️‍🔥

The world-building is a somewhat interesting mish-mash of Korean shamanism, Catholic aesthetics, and “pop Buddhism”. Relatively predictable story/plot, but still had spots of surprising twists (mostly with regards to the Baeks), and moments of poignancy which I deeply appreciated.

It has been quite a while since I watched any show with an explicit world-building based on “folk Buddhism”, and that has been one of the main nostalgic factor. As was the affecting visage of Won Mi Ho in that ethereal white dress. She truly looked like “a fairy who has descended onto earth” and reminded me a lot of Joey Wang in her heyday of the “A Chinese Ghost Story”. I did not know exactly how Van felt but I was bowled over.

I know of Lee Da Hee from “I Hear Your Voice”, and always have a soft spot for her after her memorable role in that favourite of favourites. She was extremely entertaining here, with fantastic performances in many spots. She has truly grown more luminous the last time I watched her onscreen.

I completely enjoyed Won Mi Ho as a character, and given my obsession with “The Guest” and Kang Gil Young, just could not help but compare the two - in terms of stylistic/aesthetics choices between the shows - but not in any negative way. As much as I have enjoyed the more realistic, raw and gritty stylistic choices in TG (for KGY), I found myself marveling over the near flawlessness of Won Mi Ho here.

It was so entertaining to gawk at her clothes, the cars, the perfectly made up face, stylised hair etc. Won Mi Ho was fabulous in her chaebol-heir glory. (And few could carry the fashion choices like Lee Da Hee did in the show. What a body and posture ⭐️😍🤩). Also amazing as the selfless Saviour! (One dressed to the nines in couture fashion and high heels, what’s not to love? ⭐️😍🤩)

And I like her character a lot too. Lovely, adorable and easy to love!

The “almost-romance” (though it was basically full-blown romance in my estimation) was also extremely nostalgic and wonderfully moving. I am a sucker for romances of the chaste and yearning type, and they delivered here. 🥹 Roughly knowing how the ending was from lurking on socmed, I was prepared for the ending and was not too disappointed. Still, my poor babies. 😭

A show not to be taken too seriously, nor to have too high expectations of, it was overall an entertaining ride, and truly, I could not ask for more. Love it!

*Recalling the scene during the final showdown between Van and Gungtan when they were having their final “talk”, of Van’s words (paraphrased), “The only way to escape the Law of Causality is to cease to exist” made me chuckle/laugh a few times after the fact. That is basically one of the major pillars of Buddhist teachings, and he announced it as if he discovered that principle. It might be weird, but I found that assertion out of Van’s mouth hilarious.

*Won Jeong’s retelling of the parable of Angulimala was a very nice touch in the show, because I have always found that story illuminating and bittersweet, and it was indeed an important story of redemption and atonement in Buddhist lore. “Good job, show/writers!”

Edited on Sept 23, 2023:

*Read a comment describing this show as a hot mess, and won’t say I disagree, but I have enjoyed the mess, so I suppose there’s that. Especially since it felt true to what is simply a ‘fun webtoon’. There is literally little emotional core or narrative gravity to this show (or much of the original webtoon, I am arrogantly assuming) except a mix-and-match of tropes/lores, which veered from attempting to be angsty/dark to the cheesy and campy. So, I can see where the mess is. That said, the narrative was consistent and coherent, and the performers made me laugh, so I will give it credit where it is due, little as it was.

[bloodywankers]

tw. yandere, forced pregnancy, mentions of nudity, toxic relationships, implied murder, not proofread (pls tell me if you see any typos), 1.4k words

You knew your husband wasn’t normal. You weren’t a fool, the avoiding gazes of people around you, the nervous stutter of every waiter and service person that approached you, the hesitance of new aquintaces when they had to shake hands with you, all of it under his watchful gaze. It was hard to ignore.

If you had to put a finger on when it started, you’d blame that one time years ago, when you were both still young, much younger than you are now at least. When you complained about that one classmate that always got too handsy, about his annoying jokes and obnoxious personality, all under the guise of “a joke” as tasteless as it might have been. You knew he wasn’t fully okay in the head, even back then. It was by no mistake that you found yourself complaining to him of all people, sure he was a bit more reserved than now, a bit more hesitant at the thought of potentially committing a crime but all it took was a fluttering your eyes at him a few times and he offered himself up for you, he had never been the smartest of the buch after all.

When you heard news that the classmate had apparently dropped out and been seen with injuries beyond what any sane person would inflict, you knew who to blame. But you wouldn’t, maybe your underdeveloped prefrontal lobe couldn’t grasp the concept morality back then. But a guard dog that shows such loyalty couldn’t possibly deserve punishment. It was then when you cemented future by his side. He wasn’t all too bad, you thought, if you could avoid any and all contact with the opposite gender, even with women you could never make him feel unwanted. He was needy and big and scary but extremely gullible, at least when it came to you– as long as nothing sparked his jealousy, he was beyond reasoning if that were to happen.

There were times where you cursed at yourself for your past decisions, namely when you found small splatters of blood on his clothes that you assume were too small for him to notice, or when another person you had been unhappy with (but never voiced this in front of your husband) disappeared entiorely from your life. A dog that goes and bites all those that approach its master is no good at all.

Selfish and evil as you may have been, you were still human and the thought that your mere presence could ruin someones life took a toll on you so you started to retreat into your shell, to avoid going out as much as possible, much to your husbands pleasure who started coming home on time and didn’t drift off somewhere in the middle of the might anymore. Your relationship almost started showing a semblance of normalcy.

You had started feeling exhausted as of late, too tired despite your schedule full of nothing. It was strange, you started losing appetite and under a constant spell of lethargy, too tired to do anything beyond maybe brave the journey to the bathroom when necessary or to the kitchen if your husband wasn’t home to do it for you. Then started the cravings, so strange that you doubted even a pregnant woman would have them.

That’s what you thought, until night you managed to wake up just in time to see your husband rummahging through your drawer, the small sheet of what you could only make out to be your contraceptive pills in you hand and another one that looked eerily similar (that one wasn’t yours, you were sure of this since you were down to your last sheet).

You instinctively closed your eyes again before he could turn to you, waiting until morning when he was gone to work to check your drawing, only to find one sheet. It was then when things started to click, your period had been a few weeks late, you hadn’t been particularly alarmed since it happened sometimes but now you felt fear sink in as you rushed out in your car to the nearest pharmacy. The drive felt eons long when combined with the ever increasing feelings of dread that you were experiencing but you almost wished you could go back to that time as your clothes were tossed to one side and the bathroom door left slightly ajar, you were too rushed to have cared about those details as you stared at the two lines on the test.

‘No no no no no no no no no.’ You couldn’t think clear, you werent ready to be a mother, you didnt want children, there wasn’t a single motherly bone in your body.

You took back what you had said earlier, you were most definitely a fool. Why did you think he’d never do something like this when hes probably already done enough to secure his place in the 8th circle of hell just for you.

“Darling, I was looking for you-” Your husband said gleefully, pausing as he fully opened the bathroom door, finding you sat with a pregnancy test in hand, a few other ones already tossed around you, the unmistakeable positive already visible on them. And yet, as if he had no hand in this, he feiged ignorance, acted worried as he approached you.

“What’s happened here, what’re you doing, dear? Are you alright?” He kept asking these questions as he slowly neared you.

“Get away from me, don’t touch me!” You screamed, you were crying at this point and he was left at an arms length. That was when his entire demeanor changed, the almost idiotic smile of his nowhere to be seen as he let out a frustrated sigh.

“I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later. If anything I’m surprised it took you this long, you’re quite the slow one aren’t you, love?” You probably would’ve launched the nearest object his way in any other situation but you couldn’t tell heads from tails in your current predicament.

“Why would you do this? Was what we had not enough for you?” You couldn’t help but ask in a moment of clarity.

“How coy, I wonder where this side of you was when you asked me to do all those terrible, terrible things.” His smile felt cruel, especially so when you realised that you were the dog if anything, he had always been the one to hold your leash, not the other way around.

“You dug your own grave, we couldn’ve had what most normal people have but you chose not to, you used me until your heart was fulfilled and in the process, you dug yourself deeper and deeper. The fact that you didn’t realise any sooner says more about you than me.” He finished, before hoisting you up, ignoring your cries as he removed what little you had on and placed you inside the bath. It had become a routine ever since you started feeling sick but today you couldn’t help but feel disgusted by his touch, alternating between sobs and protests as he cleaned, his grasp much harsher than usual, you weren’t sure if it was because he no longer had to uphold the persona he had you believing in up until today or because of your protests.

“Aren’t you curious, what you’ve been eating in place of your birth control lately?” He asked in the midst of washing your hair, the glint of excitement in his eyes only adding to the psychotic expression of his.

You couldn’t bear to ask, looking away in hoped that he would at least grant you this much. “Aww, I was hoping you’d want to, I’ll tell you ayway. It’s a sedative of sorts, I started with low dosages so you wouldn’t get alarmed. Don’t worry, it’s nothing strong enough to harm the baby.” The mention of the baby had your stomach twisting again. You felt exhausted from crying, letting him dress you, moving you around almost like a ragdoll until he plopped you on the bed, joining you soon after he showered and changed himself. Engulfing your smaller figure into a hug as he went on and on about the baby.

“I’ll get some books on parenting for you, we need to make sure our baby doesn’t turn out twisted and skewed like their mommy. Don’t you agree?”

[artisticflaws]

• [ just wanna show off this nail set i designed and had done 👀 may or may not be The Tops / Benny themed… more likely than not though… ]