We can hook up. Or we can move in together.
■ One is three weeks. One is every month, for as long as it’s working.
something casual.
Everyone has a view on what you’re allowed to say.
So it gets decided in the moment, by whoever’s closest to the deadline. The product page says vulva. Support says intimate area. You say something better than both on a podcast and nobody writes it down.
Three weeks to settle it. Then decide if I’m moving in.
how it goes.
First date. Ninety minutes. The product, the customer, what you've tried, what flopped, and the bit you'd rather not put in writing.
What you've been putting out. Website, social, email, packaging, past coverage. Where they contradict each other, and where you're landing too clinical or too crude.
Seeing other people. Five or six comparable brands. Which angles are spent, and where the gap is.
What are we. Your message on one page. What you stand for, three things holding it up, and the proof under each.
Dirty talk. The word for the body part, the word for the act, the word for the outcome, and the ones you retire for good.
Where this is going. Ninety days. What to say, where, in what order, and what to do first.
Aftercare. Everything above, walked through properly, and a straight answer on whether you need me monthly. Including if you don't.
something serious.
You'll stop reading the drafts.
Not because you gave up. Because by month three you'll already know what's in them. I'll know the word you never use, the line you'd cut, and what you meant in the brief, not what you wrote in it.
We'll finish each other's sentences.
Everything you publish, written and run, in one voice. Including the copy other people write.
how it goes.
Moving in. Week one: channels, analytics, and the three pieces of copy doing the most work rewritten. Something live by Friday.
Everything you publish. Social, email, editorial, product and landing page copy. Written, scheduled, shipped.
Everything they publish. Your agency, your creators, your inbox. Same voice, nobody replaced.
The media. A kit, a list of 20 to 30 names, angles written and pitched.
One priority a month. A launch. A media push. Creators and experts on the record. Trade and retail. Or you.
A safe word. Holding statements written before the comments turn.
pillow talk.
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Most copywriting studios research the categories they write for. Tongue lives in them. Sexual wellness, queer dating and consumer challenger brands aren't niches to be decoded — they're worlds we inhabit daily. The cultural fluency shows in the first sentence and every one after it. The copy doesn't approximate these worlds. It speaks from inside them.
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Sexual wellness brands. Queer dating apps. Consumer challenger brands. The ones normalising desires, identities and relationships that mainstream marketing has historically ignored or sanitised. The brief that makes most studios uncomfortable is the one Tongue was built for. If the work involves desire, identity or pleasure — and the brand is done apologising for what it is — this is the right studio.
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It starts with a brief. Not the one the client sends — the one Tongue writes after listening properly. Every project begins with a discovery call, a considered brief and a genuine immersion into the brand before a single word of copy is written. Deliverables arrive with a Loom walkthrough. Two revision rounds are included. A 30-day support window follows every project. The work is never phoned in. Neither is the process.
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Starting prices sit under each service. You're quoted in your own currency, USD, AUD, GBP or EUR, at local market rates, and the final number always depends on the brief.
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As far as the brief requires. The Tongue register sits closer to Feeld than Pornhub by default — sophisticated, frank, completely unapologetic. But the dial turns as far as the brand needs it to. A sexual wellness brand that needs explicit product copy gets explicit product copy. Written with the same intelligence, intentionality and cultural fluency that governs everything Tongue produces. The content level changes to serve the brand. The standard never does.