#like can we get some romance writers into comics

[imperiuswrecked]

I'm convinced the reason so many writers, especially certain male writers (Aaron), have a hard time writing Namor is bc they never lean into the fact that he's a Byronic Anti Hero Prince, which comes with a touch of tragic romanticism that they ignore. This is why we need more romance writers in comic writing jobs bc they fundamentally have to understand their characters to make their stories work. Romances are extremely character driven & so are good comics. Great action can't replace great characterization. Some of the best comics I've read have always been those that transform or push a character into new heights or deeper into themselves while still staying true to who they are.

[starsewl]

Weekend Getaway

pairing: BestfriendModel!Mingyu & Dancer!Hoshi & Athlete!Dokyeom x Novelist!Reader

rating: 18+ | word count: 4.1k

summary: You join your longtime friend Mingyu and his two equally irresistible friends, Hoshi and Dokyeom on a quiet weekend getaway to a secluded villa. What begins as an innocent escape quickly turns into a night of unleashed lust. When the men discover your writing inspired by them, they decide to help your “research”—taking you through a wild, unrelenting night of overstimulation.

tw/cw: explicit sexual content, 4some, overstimulation, squirting, cigarette, piercing, harsh words

That weekend means nothing. No birthdays. No events. Just another two days in the calendar when Mingyu suddenly invites me to a getaway with him and his two friends. I say yes right away—I mean, who says no to spending a weekend with three stupidly attractive men?

Mingyu is a model. Not just “IG pretty”—he’s billboard, magazine cover, can-make-anything-look-luxury kind of gorgeous. The camera worships him. Every pose is deliberate, every angle flawless.

Hoshi’s energy hits different. He’s a dancer, owns a studio, and his body moves like it’s speaking a language only muscles and rhythm can understand. There’s power in every step, and joy in every spin.

Then there’s Dokyeom. A national swimmer. Tan lines, muscle lines, the kind of sunny smile that makes you think maybe the world isn’t all that bad. He’s friendly, comforting, and ridiculously built. He glows.

“You need healing,” Mingyu tells me, his deep voice wrapping around my bones like velvet. “I invited Hoshi and Dokyeom too.”

“They’re coming?” I sip my iced coffee, glancing over at Mingyu sprawled on my couch. His white t-shirt stretches across his chest like a second skin, and the shorts? They show off those lean legs way too easily. I swallow.

“Scared?” he teases, lips curving. He toys with my hoodie string, slow, seductive, like he knows.

“So confident.” I try to hide behind my coffee glass. “Why would I be scared?”

“Good.” He chuckles low. “We all need a break.”

I’ve known Mingyu since we were kids, growing up on the same street, fighting over swings and comic books. But this Mingyu? The man with the body, the voice, the look—he’s dangerous now. And still my best friend. Maybe that’s the problem.

“Maybe I’ll get some writing inspiration,” I shrug, though my last novel was already a thinly disguised fantasy involving these three men. They don’t know. Only they know I write adult romance. Everyone else just thinks I’m a writer.

“Bring your laptop,” Mingyu says as he stands and walks closer. Each step is slow, like he’s stalking something. “You might get new ideas.”

He stops beside me, towering. I tilt my head to meet his eyes. He smells like cologne, cedar, and something warmer—his skin maybe? My mouth goes dry.

“This weekend, okay?” he murmurs, eyes locked to mine. “Don’t forget.”

***

Two days later, Mingyu's car drove slowly along a narrow path framed by tall pine trees. The rows of sturdy trunks formed a kind of green tunnel, wrapping the road in natural shadows that made this place feel like another world. After the last bend was passed, a two-story wooden villa appeared in front of our eyes—looking like a house from a romcom movie: a spacious terrace with wooden chairs, large windows welcoming light, and a backyard directly bordered by dense forest. Fresh air. The sound of birds and wind whispers through the leaves.

“Wow, this is so cool!” Hoshi bursts out first, running toward the front door with arms stretched like a kid.

“It’s way too close to the forest,” I mutter. “What if someone tries to kidnap us?”

“They’d give you back for being too loud,” Dokyeom laughs, pulling bags from the trunk.

“Asshole,” Hoshi fires back, still grinning.

Inside? Oh god. Wooden walls. Dark floors that creak just right. A stone fireplace. A soft L-shaped sofa facing the forest view. Kitchen gleaming with marble and metal. A huge table in the middle—thick wood, perfect for late dinners... or something else.

“There are three bedrooms,” Mingyu says, tapping the door code. “One downstairs, two up.”

“Perfect,” Hoshi says, flopping onto the sofa. “So how are we splitting?”

“Room with me,” Dokyeom answers instantly.

“Okay!!” Hoshi chirps, no hesitation.

***

Night settles in like a blanket. Hoshi insists on cooking—claims he makes “god-level ramyeon,” even though he’s clearly never touched a kitchen in his life. We don’t argue.

The result? Surprisingly good. Spicy, hot, with soft-boiled eggs and dumplings Dokyeom makes from scratch. We sit around the massive wooden table, laughter echoing through the room, stories tossed around like old shoes.

“You never talk about your novel,” Hoshi says suddenly, giving me a sly look over his chopsticks. “Mingyu said you write hot scenes.”

I choke on broth. “I didn’t say that!”

“But you did,” Mingyu smirks, handing me a tissue. “Over lunch. Last month.”

“What genre is it exactly?” Dokyeom asks, tone too innocent.

“Romance,” I reply quickly. “Just… normal romance.”

“What kind of romance?” Hoshi leans forward, elbow on the table, mischief in his eyes. “Vanilla? Or with a little spice?”

My face burns. They can’t know the truth. Can’t know my last draft is basically them—but naked and tangled in sheets.

“A little spicy,” I mumble, heart thudding.

“A little?” Mingyu raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t you tell me it made you hot while writing it?”

Fuck. Did I really say that?

“I want to read it!” Hoshi perks up.

“You brought your laptop, right? C’mon, share it!”

“No,” I protest fast. “It’s not done. Still a mess.”

“So when it’s finished?” Dokyeom smiles. “You’ll let us read it, right?”

My chair scrapes back. “Anyone want dessert? I saw ice cream.”

“She’s running away…” Hoshi whispers to Dokyeom, just loud enough for me to hear.

***

After dinner, everyone returns to their rooms except for me. I am alone in the living room. The atmosphere is calm. I sit on the long sofa in the living room, laptop on my lap, a glass of wine on the side table. Only a small lamp in the corner of the room is on, creating a dim atmosphere perfect for writing. Outside, the sound of wind and night birds can sometimes be heard, interspersed with the creaking of wood.

I continue my pending novel draft. This chapter is really difficult to write, not because I don't know what to write, but because it is too... intense. The main female character in my novel is trapped in a situation similar to mine now—in a remote place with three guys who make her breathless.

"Five minutes passes in torturous silence. She can feel their gazes like physical touches on her skin. His hand slips in, his breath heavy in my ear. Amid the beating, I can only surrender. Surrender to their bodies drawing closer—three men, three scents, three tongues, three sins."

I stop typing. Take a deep breath. Somehow my fingers move uncertainly over the keyboard. I sip the wine slowly, trying to calm myself. But the images are already clear in my head—three pairs of hands, three pairs of eyes, three...

"So this is how you write your steamy scenes?

A familiar deep voice. I turn, and there—Mingyu, standing half-leaning against the wall near the kitchen, wearing a thin, slightly wrinkled t-shirt, loose boxer shorts. His hair is messy and his eyes half-sleepy.

"Shit," I hurriedly close the laptop. "What are you doing?"

"I'm not spying. You're sitting in the middle of the room, how could I not see?" he says casually, sitting at the end of the sofa, near my feet. "I'm just curious. Who's that about?"

"It's not about anyone, it's fiction." I answer quickly.

"But the inspiration must come from somewhere."

He leans back, his large shoulder almost touching my bare leg. "You're writing a scene with three guys, one girl, in the middle of the night. Coincidence?"

I open my mouth to answer, but a sound from the direction of the stairs cuts off our conversation.

"Oh, you're both still up?" Hoshi appears walking casually, but his eyes immediately go to the laptop on my lap.

"You're writing?" He walks closer and immediately sits on the sofa back behind me, bending down from above, his chin very close to my head. "Can I read it?"

"No," I answer quickly.

"Then you must be writing a steamy scene, huh," he replies with a laugh. "You're really... it's always the innocent one."

Before I can hit him with a pillow, one more person appears from the room hallway, Dokyeom. His hair is messy, his voice hoarse typical of someone who just woke up.

"Why is it noisy here? I thought someone was fighting."

“Our little writer here’s working on a threesome,” Mingyu says, poking my leg.

“Insane,” I mutter, pinching his thigh.

Dokyeom just grins and sinks to the carpet in front of me. “Tell us what it’s about.”

Three pairs of eyes on me. I freeze.

Mingyu leans in, voice low. “If you don’t want to tell us…”

His fingers brush my thigh.

“…maybe show us instead.”

 I don’t know when the laptop slides under the table. Maybe it’s when Hoshi’s fingers tug at the back of my shirt, making that slow, drawn-out creeeek sound, like old wood cracking under pressure. Too suggestive. Too real. Or maybe it’s Dokyeom—now sitting on the sofa beside me, one hand curled around my calf, the other gliding up the inside of my thigh. Those fingers? Big. Warm. Deliberate.

My thoughts are gone.

Mingyu’s hand finds my cheek, brushing a strand of hair away. “Do you write like this every night?”

His voice drips with something darker now. Closer. He already knows the answer.

“No…” I whisper, breath catching. “Only when I’m… needy.”

He leans in, lips grazing my ear. “Are you needy now?”

I don’t answer with words. I kiss him.

Soft. Slow. Wet. His lips crush mine like he’s been waiting years. His tongue slides over mine, coaxing, tasting, controlling. The wine on his mouth mixes with the heat in my blood.

“Mmhh…”

My moan is the spark.

Behind me, Hoshi chuckles. “I want my turn too.”

He dips down, mouth meeting the side of my neck. His lips are warm, tongue bold, tracing fire along my skin. Then—Dokyeom. His hand is no longer idle. It slides under my shirt, palms my breast through the fabric, thumb brushing my nipple until I shudder. He kisses my shoulder. I gasp.

They lift me.

I don’t resist. Don’t question.

Mingyu and Dokyeom each take a side, lifting me like I weigh nothing. They carry me toward the thick wooden dining table. Hoshi follows, steps silent but intent sharp in his gaze. They set me on the edge, the cool wood shocking against the backs of my thighs. My shirt is half off already, crumpled around my arms. Hands strip the rest—tugging, sliding, exposing me fully. I’m left in nothing but thin black panties. Breathless. Goosebumps everywhere.

“You guys…” My voice trembles. “…I’ve never—ahh…”

Hoshi steps forward, eyes flicking down. His tongue peeks out—and that’s when I see it. The piercing. Silver. Gleaming on the tip of his tongue.

“You like what you see?” he teases, licking his lips. “Wanna know how it feels… on your pretty pussy?”

His hand wraps around my throat. Gentle, firm. Seeking permission. When I nod, barely—he moves.

His tongue trails from my collarbone to my chest. Slow. Deliciously slow. He doesn’t suck. Not yet. He teases. The cold metal of his piercing circles my nipple, sending shocks through me. I arch, hips bucking.

“H-hoshi…” I moan, louder now.

“Don’t hold back, princess,” Dokyeom whispers, behind me. His voice rumbles like thunder. “I want to hear you.”

Mingyu kisses my stomach. His hands rest on my thighs, spreading me wider. The kiss lowers. Each one more unbearable than the last. Behind, Dokyeom unclasps my bra. He doesn’t kiss. He blows. The cold air hits wet skin—Hoshi’s tongue still dancing—and I nearly break.

“S-shit…” I cry out. “Feels good…”

“Do you know…” Hoshi murmurs, still licking, “…I’ve imagined painting your body with my tongue… one line… all the way down…”

I’m writhing. Moving without meaning to.

Then Mingyu’s fingers slide inside my panties.

They don’t move at first. They just… rest. Pressing against soaked heat. Then—he starts. A slow rhythm. Deep strokes. His knuckles graze the soft lips between my thighs and I lose it.

“Ahh—fuck… Gyu…” I choke on the moan.

“Damn,” he grunts. “You’re leaking.”

He kisses below my navel, tongue dipping down, lower. Dokyeom’s hands are everywhere—palming my ass, guiding my back into his chest, whispering filth into my ear.

“You've been thinking about this, huh? Getting ruined by all three of us?”

“No—I—fuck—”

I didn't finish the sentence. Hoshi’s still sucking, piercing grinding my nipple. Dokyeom now on his knees behind, kissing the small of my back. Mingyu lowers, mouth nearing the place where his fingers just were. He peels the panties down—slowly. So slowly. Until I’m exposed. He doesn’t hesitate. He eats. Tongue first. Broad. Heavy. Licking up every drop. His lips seal over my clit, sucking hard.

“Akh—fuck!”

My whole body arches. I grab the edge of the table, the wood creaking beneath my grip.

“Time to make some material for a new chapter,” Mingyu growls between licks.

I moan. Loud. Unrestrained.

Hoshi’s hands work my chest. Dokyeom kisses the shell of my ear, still whispering.

I lose track of time. My orgasm crashes through me like a wave. Legs trembling. Breath gone. My panties hang off one foot. The table is a mess of sweat and slick.

And they’re not done.

Dokyeom had already returned to sit on the previous sofa. He leaned back casually but full of dominant aura. Legs spread wide, his hoodie already gone. His body was already completely naked, one hand patting his left thigh, signaling me to climb up and sit on his lap.

"Come on," he said slowly. But his voice was sharp.

"I want to feel you on my thigh."

"Thigh?" I was still panting.

"Practice everything you write."

And somehow, my body immediately responded to that command. Without asking. Without thinking. I got down from the table, walked slowly toward him. My legs were trembling, not because I was afraid. Rather... because I was curious. Because I imagined the hardness of his thigh—just looking at it, the muscles were as sharp as carvings. Especially when he sat like that, the position of his legs was very enticing. Big. Hard. Solid. Like covered in concrete.

I climb up. Slowly. One of my legs passed over his thigh and landed right on top of Dokyeom's left thigh. I leaned against his chest, hands resting on his shoulders for balance.

And when I moved a little... "Ah, fuck." I immediately moans loudly. I felt the hardness of his muscles parting between my legs. The friction immediately hit the most sensitive point.

"Enjoy it." Dokyeom leaned back, his eyes half-closed. But his hands went up to my waist, holding, directing the movement. "Move slowly first."

I start to move. A little. Up and down. Rubbing back and forth. "Mmmh... unghh..." my moans got louder, more uncontrollable.

Every time I rubbed forward, he deliberately hardened his thigh muscles. When I moved backward, the wet feeling from my own fluids made the friction even more slippery. My hands start to tremble, my nails pressing into his shoulders.

"Feels good... Dok-yeom... ahh... so good...shit!" I moaned in his ear, making him squeeze my hips harder.

When I looked behind, Mingyu and Hoshi were sitting not far away, in chairs across from us. They were busy watching the movement of my hips while stroking their own.

"Do you see her hips, Gyu?" muttered Hoshi to Mingyu, eyes not leaving me. "Fuck... I'm so hard."

Mingyu didn't answer. But his hand was clearly licking the tip of his finger, then stroking himself. His eyes focus, sharp, shifting to look from my lips, to my chest, to my hip movements that were getting wilder up and down. Dokyeom grins, tightening his thigh, making the pressure brutal. “Faster,” he whispers, slapping my ass. “Cum for me.”

I whimper. I grind harder. Loud. Wet. The sound of skin and slick fills the room. Just as I’m about to explode—

“Not yet,” Mingyu growls.

I cry out in frustration. He stands in front of me. Hard. Thick. His cock hovers near my lips.

“Open,” he orders.

I do.

He slides in. My lips wrap around the head. His taste is salty, hot. His hand grips my hair while Dokyeom moves behind me. His hand still grabs my waist. I feel him shift slightly—then I hear it.

A soft click. I glance back. A lit match glows between his fingers. A cigarette rests between his lips. My breath catches.

“Do you mind?” he asks, the flame dancing near his face. Calm. Controlled.

Fuck. That’s so fucking sexy of him.

I shake my head, slow. No way in hell I’d stop him. He smiles—lazy, sinful—and lights it. The tobacco scent fills the air, thick and expensive with a hint of mint. He exhales upward, smoke curling around the soft lamp light, casting shadows on the ceiling.

Then Hoshi moves in front too. Replaces Mingyu. He pushes in deep. His piercing scrapes my lip as he moans, the smell of mint and smoke filling my lungs as I gag around Hoshi’s cock. Then he pulls back, smirking. “Time to show you what this tongue ring can really do.”

He drops down, squatting in front of me. Dokyeom’s hand flies to my back, steadying me so I don't fall from the shift. Hoshi's face is now right in front of my cunt, his eyes gleaming mischief.

“Pull her legs wider,” Hoshi tells Dokyeom. “I want to see everything.”

Dokyeom obeys immediately, his large hands hooking behind my knees and spreading me open, obscenely wide. I have no shame anymore—it's gone. Completely. Too good to care. Hoshi starts kissing my thighs, soft, barely there. Moving up, inch by inch, taking his time. He pauses at my center, blowing softly. My entire body jolts.

“You want to feel it?” he whispers, flicking out his tongue to flash the metal glint. “Been thinking about this since I met you.”

Before I can answer, his tongue touches down. Oh fuck— the cold metal meeting the heat of my cunt punches a moan from my throat that I can't swallow. That tiny barbell moves with wicked precision, gliding, pressing, circling all the right places, stealing the air from my lungs.

My head falls back against Dokyeom’s chest. He’s still smoking, still impossibly calm, his fingers threading through my hair. “Feel good?” he whispers, blowing warm smoke into my ear.

“Nnghh…” That's all I can manage. Because Hoshi’s piercing is dancing up and down, cold in the middle of all that hot wet.

Mingyu’s still standing nearby, eyes dark and locked on me. His hand’s moving on its own, stroking, his breath short and shallow.

“Want to switch?” Dokyeom offers, exhaling a lazy stream of smoke.

Mingyu nods, taking a seat. I’m shifted, lifted from Dokyeom’s lap to Mingyu’s thighs. Hoshi doesn’t stop—his head still buried, tongue still working, god, that fucking piercing. Dokyeom stands, approaching. His eyes low, hungry. He unzips, cigarette hanging loose between his lips. The smoke swirls, thickening the air, choking it with tension.

“Open your mouth again,” he says, standing before me.

I do it without hesitation. Not because I’m scared—but because I want it. Desperately. His cock pushes past my lips, and the taste of mint and tobacco from his breath set me on fire.

Below, Hoshi goes feral. His tongue presses, swirls, that piercing spinning like a toy built for my destruction. My hips jerk on their own. I’m drowning in sensation.

“She’s about to cum,” Hoshi mutters, watching my thighs quiver. “Look at her tremble.”

“Don’t hold back,” Mingyu whispers, his hand tightening around my waist. “We want to see you lose control.”

Dokyeom removes his cigarette, blowing smoke up, lazy. “Show us,” he whispers, thrusting deeper into my throat.

And I break. Hoshi’s cold tongue, Mingyu’s warm hands, Dokyeom’s deep thrust and smoke curling through the room—it blends, it explodes, and my body shakes violently. Moans trapped in my stuffed mouth, tears leaking from my eyes as my orgasm rips through me.

Dokyeom collapses onto the sofa, his cigarette spent. Hoshi’s head rests against my thigh, that damn gleaming metal catching the light. Mingyu is still behind me, steady hands holding my shoulders.

My body’s wrecked. I’m trembling on the table, limbs limp, cunt soaked and twitching. I’ve lost count—Mingyu’s tongue, Hoshi’s piercing, Dokyeom’s fingers—it’s all just a blur of brutal pleasure. My lungs can’t keep up. My hair’s stuck to my face, sweat-slicked, my skin humming.

Then Mingyu leans close, breath brushing my ear, voice deep, cruel, so fucking composed.

“You look done, baby,” he says. “But we haven’t even fucking started.”

My stomach tightens. I try to move—protest? beg?—but my body’s shot. I don’t even notice until he grabs my hips, yanking me to the edge of the table, legs forced wide again.

Hoshi’s voice cuts in, thick with amusement. “She looks ruined.”

“She’s not ruined,” Dokyeom says behind him, voice like thunder. “Not yet.”

Mingyu’s cock presses to my entrance, thick, hard, slick with my own cum—and then he slams in. No warning. My scream tears loose, hoarse and raw. My whole body jolts, fingernails clawing at the table, grasping for anything. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even pause. Just pounds into me, merciless.

“Still fucking tight,” he groans, dragging out, slamming back in to the hilt. “Even after soaking the whole table.”

Then—fuck. Hoshi’s there again, sliding beneath me, mouth open, tongue already out.

“No! no, fuck—don’t—” I gasp, too sensitive, too much—

But he dives in, licking where Mingyu’s cock’s plunging in and out, flat tongue, cold metal tapping my clit. I scream again. My body’s spasming, unable to escape, unable to breathe. Mingyu grips tighter, using me like a fuckdoll, cock pounding.

“She’s already shaking,” Hoshi laughs, face glossy with my slick. “Sensitive little thing.”

“Make her cum again,” Dokyeom growls, lazily stroking himself in the shadows. “I want to see her break.”

Mingyu’s rhythm intensifies. The sound is filthy—wet, deep, messy. The stretch is brutal. Every thrust slams into something that makes me cry out. And that piercing—fuck—it flicks, circles, devastates my clit without pause.

And then I lose it.

My hips seize, my body jerks, and a burst of liquid sprays out, soaking them both. I scream into the wood, legs twitching, my pussy clamping around Mingyu’s cock so hard he groans. He pulls out. Cock twitching. Still not done.

“Clean it,” he commands.

Hoshi obeys instantly. Mouth open, licking up Mingyu’s shaft, dragging his tongue through the slick mess. I’m barely conscious. Then I feel breath—warm and heavy—by my ear. “Our turn.”

It’s a blur. Everything is soaked, ruined, twitching. My brain’s melting, cunt leaking, but I’m not empty for long. Hands find my hips—two pairs. One set is Hoshi’s—playful, familiar. The other? Big, rough, possessive. Dokyeom.

“Please…” I whisper, no clue who I’m begging. “More…”

Hoshi bends over my back, chest to mine, whispering in my ear. “Think you can take both of us, slut?”

I don’t answer. Just arch, spread my legs wider, that fluttering hole inviting them in. Dokyeom groans, low and hungry. “She’s still fucking leaking.”

They both press in. Hoshi first—curved, smooth. Then Dokyeom, thicker, his head nudging the same soaked entrance. They slide in together, side by side, stretching me impossibly.

“Oh god—oh fuckfuckfuck—” I can’t speak. The stretch is overwhelming. My pussy fights it, then yields, takes them both in like it’s what I was made for.

“Look at her,” Hoshi whispers. “Taking both of us. So fucking greedy.”

“She was made for this,” Dokyeom growls, gripping my hips. “She’s sucking us in.”

Once they’re both balls-deep, they start to move. Slow. Together. Fucking me like one monster cock.

I scream. Loud. Raw. Mingyu watches lazily, stroking himself. “You wanted inspiration, right?”

No answer. I’m too far gone.

The pace picks up. The wet slap of hips, the obscene sound of their cocks rubbing inside me, the feeling of being stretched to my limit—it rips me open. Juices pouring, thighs shaking, everything soaked. I’m clamping down on them, trying to trap them inside.

“Gonna cum,” Hoshi pants. “Gonna cum inside her—”

“Not yet,” Dokyeom growls. “Make her squirt first.”

They fuck me harder. My body locks up. Nerve endings burning. And then—boom. Another jet sprays out, harder than the last. Splattering everything. My scream’s already half dead, but I make some sound. I can’t even tell what. They don’t stop. They hold me down. Ride me through it, through the aftershocks, until I feel their own groans building.

“Fuck fuck fuck—cumming—”

“Me too—take it—take all of it—”

They slam in together one last time. Their cocks pulse, spilling thick, hot cum inside me, so much it leaks out immediately, white rivulets dripping down my legs. They stay buried for a moment, twitching, before they finally pull out. I collapse, limp, stretched open, cum pouring out.

And then—Mingyu leans close, presses a kiss to my cheek, and murmurs with a smirk—

“Ready for round two?”

[physalian]

Pacing your Story (Or, How to Avoid the "Suddenly...!")

Arguably *the* most important lesson all writers need to learn, even for those who don’t give a damn about themes and motifs and a moral soap box: How your story is paced, whether it’s a comic book, a children’s chapter book, a doorstopper, a mini series, a movie, or a full-length season of TV (old school style), pacing is everything.

Pacing determines how long the story *feels* regardless of how long it actually is. It can make a 2 hour movie feel like 90 mins or double the time you’re trapped in your seat.

There’s very little I can say about pacing that hasn’t been said before, but I’m here to condense all that’s out there into a less intimidating mouthful to chew.

So: What is pacing?

Pacing is how a story flows, how quickly or slowly the creator moves through and between scenes, how long they spend on setting, narration, conversation, arguments, internal monologues, fight scenes, journey scenes. It’s also how smoothly tone transitions throughout the story. A fantasy adventure jumping around sporadically between meandering boredom, high-octane combat, humor, grief, and romance is exhausting to read, no matter how much effort you put into your characters.

Anyone who says the following is wrong:

Good pacing is always fast/bad pacing is always slow

Pacing means you are 100% consistent throughout the entire story

It doesn’t matter as much so long as you have a compelling story/characters/lore/etc

Now let me explain why in conveniently numbered points:

1. Pacing is not about consistency, it’s about giving the right amount of time to the right pieces of your story

This is not intuitive and it takes a long time to learn. So let’s look at some examples:

Lord of the Rings: The movies trimmed a *lot* from the books that just weren’t adaptable to screen, namely all the tedious details and quite a bit of the worldbuilding that wasn’t critical to the journey of the Fellowship. That said, with some exceptions, the battles are as long as they need to be, along with every monologue, every battle speech. When Helm’s Deep is raging on, we cut away to Merry and Pippin with the Ents to let ourselves breathe, then dive right back in just before it gets boring.

The Hobbit Trilogy: The exact opposite from LotR, stretching one kids book into 3 massive films, stuffing it full of filler, meandering side quests, pointless exposition, drawing out battles and conflicts to silly extremes, then rushing through the actual desolation of Smaug for… some reason.

Die Hard (cause it’s the Holidays y’all!): The actiony-est of action movies with lots of fisticuffs and guns and explosions still leaves time for our hero to breathe, lick his wounds, and build a relationship with the cop on the ground. We constantly cut between the hero and the villains, all sharing the same radio frequency, constantly antsy about what they know and when they’ll find out the rest, and when they’ll discover the hero’s kryptonite.

2. Make every scene you write do at least two things at once

This is also tricky. Making every scene pull double duty should be left to after you’ve written the first draft, otherwise you’ll never write that first draft. Pulling double duty means that if you’re giving exposition, the scene should also reveal something about the character saying it. If you absolutely must write the boring trip from A to B, give some foreshadowing, some thoughtful insight from one of your characters, a little anecdote along the way.

Develop at least two of the following:

The plot

The backstory

The romance/friendships

The lore

The exposition

The setting

The goals of the cast

Doing this extremely well means your readers won’t have any idea you’re doing it until they go back and read it again. If you have two characters sitting and talking exposition at a table, and then those same two characters doing some important task with filler dialogue to break up the narrative… try combining those two scenes and see what happens.

**This is going to be incredibly difficult if you struggle with making your stories longer. I do not. I constantly need to compress my stories. **

3. Not every scene needs to be crucial to the plot, but every scene must say something

I distinguish plot from story like a square vs a rectangle. Plot is just a piece of the tale you want to tell, and some scenes exist just to be funny, or romantic, or mysterious, plot be damned.

What if you’re writing a character study with very little plot? How do you make sure your story isn’t too slow if 60% of the narrative is introspection?

Avoid repeating information the audience already has, unless a reminder is crucial to understanding the scene

This isn’t 1860 anymore. Every detail must serve a purpose. Keep character and setting descriptions down to absolute need-to-know and spread it out like icing on a cake – enough to coat, but not give you a mouthful of whipped sugar and zero cake.

Avoid describing generic daily routines, unless the existence of said routine is out of ordinary for the character, or will be rudely interrupted by chaos. No one cares about them brushing their teeth and doing their hair.

Make sure your characters move, but not too much. E.g. two characters sitting and talking – do humans just stare at each other with their arms lifeless and bodies utterly motionless during conversation? No? Then neither should your characters. Make them gesture, wave, frown, laugh, cross their legs, their arms, shift around to get comfortable, pound the table, roll their eyes, point, shrug, touch their face, their hair, wring their hands, pick at their nails, yawn, stretch, pout, sneer, smirk, click their tongue, clear their throat, sniff/sniffle, tap their fingers/drum, bounce their feet, doodle, fiddle with buttons or jewelry, scratch an itch, touch their weapons/gadgets/phones, check the time, get up and sit back down, move from chair to table top – the list goes on. Bonus points if these are tics that serve to develop your character, like a nervous fiddler, or if one moves a lot and the other doesn’t – what does that say about the both of them? This is where “show don’t tell” really comes into play.

4. Your entire work should not be paced exactly the same

Just like a paragraph should not be filled with sentences of all the same length and syntax. Some beats deserve more or less time than others. Unfortunately, this is unique to every single story and there is no one size fits all.

General guidelines are as follows:

Action scenes should have short paragraphs and lots of movement. Cut all setting details and descriptors, internal monologues, and the like, unless they service the scene.

Journey/travel scenes must pull double or even triple duty. There’s a reason very few movies are marketed as “single take” and those that are don’t waste time on stuff that doesn’t matter. See 1917.

Romantic scenes are entirely up to you. Make it a thousand words, make it ten thousand, but you must advance either the romantic tension, actual movement of the characters, conversation, or intimacy of the relationship.

Don’t let your conversations run wild. If they start to veer off course, stop, boil it down to its essentials, and cut the rest.

When transitioning between slow to faster pacing and back again, it’s also not one size fits all. Maybe it being jarring is the point – it’s as sudden for the characters as it is for the reader. With that said, try to keep the “suddenly”s to a minimum.

5. Pacing and tone go hand in hand

This means that, generally speaking, the tone of your scene changes with the speed of the narrative. As stated above, a jarring tonal shift usually brings with it a jarring pacing shift.

A character might get in a car crash while speeding away from an abusive relationship. A character who thinks they’re safe from a pursuer might be rudely and terrifyingly proven wrong. An exhausting chase might finally relent when sanctuary is found. A quiet dinner might quickly turn romantic with a look, or confession. Someone casually cleaning up might discover evidence of a lie, a theft, an intruder and begin to panic.

--

Whatever the case may be, a narrative that is all action all the time suffers from lack of meaningful character moments. A narrative that meanders through the character drama often forgets there is a plot they’re supposed to be following.

[shelly-vision]

Welcome Home Cow Tools Theory: the weirdest Welcome Home theory you’ll ever see.

Hi. Welcome to my dumbass theory. Please hear me out on this.

So, in case you’re somehow unaware, Clown and Huck just held a Q&A about Welcome Home. Among the many silly questions and sillier answers, user can of maple beans asked the following question.

And attached to the answer was this image.

Now, the common response to this would naturally be “wut?” But unfortunately I spend too much time online and as such, it didn’t take me long to remember what the reference was.

Now, this probably makes things more confusing to some people. Luckily I’m here to explain it.

BUT

Before I do, I need to post the other Q&A prompt that will be relevant to this discussion.

Please put a pin in this for later. Now, I will explain Cow Tools.

Cow Tools is a one-panel comic from the series “the Far Side” by Gary Larson released in October of 1982. The Far Side consists of similar one-panel comics all telling some silly punchline. However, Cow Tools goes beyond that. The joke of the panel is very simple. The idea is that if cows made tools, they’d probably be weird and unsophisticated. However, a lot of people didn’t understand it. Upon the debut of Cow Tools, the phones of the newspaper company that published it didn’t stop ringing for nearly two days straight as people were continuously calling to ask what the joke was. This lack of understanding caused severe backlash and hate to form for Cow Tools. To put it in simpler terms, this simple thing was over complicated by people, causing them to not understand it, and in response, they turned their lack of understanding into hate. However, decades later, Cow Tools found its audience among the internet, as the sheer absurdity of the comic makes it a somewhat popular anti-joke.

Now, I bet you’re wondering, “Overwhelmingly niche tumblr user and Total Drama fanfiction writer Shelly_Vision, what does anything about Cow Tools have to do with Welcome Home, let alone the homophobia discussion you told us to put a pin in? Surely the joke Clown and Huck were making with Julie Tools is just that it’s meaningless and meant to be a non-answer, right?” And that is probably true. I probably am overanalyzing and all of this could be meaningless. However I hyperfixate way too much and said hyperfixatuon leads me to come up with theories that might mean utter nonsense. But the small chance remains that I’m onto something. So because of that, I will now present what this theory is truly about with my full chest.

Julie Tools tells us the exact reason why the show Welcome Home was cancelled. Yes I am completely serious and allow me to explain.

Let’s ask ourselves this: why was Julie Tools posted in response to asking if romance would be a part of Welcome Home’s story? What does Cow Tools have to do with romance?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Cow Tools, as a comic, has nothing to do with romance. The content of the comic itself is meaningless. What we need to do here is not apply the comic to romance, but to apply the comic’s *reception* to romance.

Now is when we need to return to the homophobia discussion. Welcome Home as a show released in the 70s. Back then, the general audience didn’t understand queer people and turned the lack of understanding into hate. What romance would result in this puppet show getting immense backlash?

A queer romance.

Yes I am fully serious in saying that this random reference to Cow Tools is meant to tell us that Welcome Home was cancelled and all mention of it was scrubbed away due to backlash from its inclusion of queer characters. Backlash and hatred of something simple that the public didn’t understand and decided to hate it because of that.

Dear reader, why would all of this stuff about Welcome Home resurface in the 2020s? Because just like how Cow Tools didn’t find its audience until decades after it was published, Welcome Home didn’t find its audience until now. In a day and age where queer people are accepted. And it seems a lot of queer people are drawn to this project.

Welcome Home is (at least partially) about queer erasure. I’ve had a feeling this would be the case for years now but this just strengthens by certainty in it.

Alright now for the more speculative parts of the theory. My main point was the general queer erasure stuff, now I want to get a little more into character stuff.

So first off, why is it Julie Tools? It feels like Frank and Eddie are more overtly queer characters, and while Julie still is very queer coded, it’s not as overt as characters like Frank, Eddie, Sally, or Poppy. Julie’s queer coding is mostly limited to her interactions with Sally. (See my Julie character analysis for more elaboration.) Well, here’s something purely speculative. As shown in the most recent update, Julie is someone who often feels like her only value is in what she can do for others. So, what if, on the cusp of the general public discovering Frank and/or Eddie and/or Poppy and/or Sally is queer, Julie outs herself as a form of self-sacrifice. That way the general public forgets its speculations about the others and all the backlash ends up being directed to Julie’s character instead? This feels kind of reachy but hey maybe I’m onto something. Uh the mentions of nonstop phone ringing reminded me of Wally’s connection to phones, tho that one’s definitely unrelated. Also seeing the Q&A show Julie in Y2K fashion and Sally in Y3K fashion felt extremely yuri to me and I’m adding that to the pile of sapphic hints. Maybe the always and clumsy nature of the tools represents awkward and clumsy romantic feelings? Yeah at this point I’m reaching.

TLDR: the in-universe show of Welcome Home was cancelled and all mention of it was scrubbed from the world because of its queer characters. I may be drowning in my autism and hyperfixation.

[elexuscal]

Want to be a better writer? Read

Read Widely

An oft-repeated bit of advice for writers is "you gotta read". That said, I pretty often see people confused about what this means-- or arguing about a narrow set of what "counts" as reading for that advice.

This is my attempt to wrangle with my own perspective on how to execute on that advice, according to my own attempts over the last few years to live up to that. (And indeed, while this is primarily aimed at fiction writers, this'll probably be broadly applicable to writers across a wide variety of genres, formats, and even mediums. just move things a little to the left if they don't apply)

If you want to get better at writing, what should you read? More or less, everything. But to give some guidelines:

1. Read Widely Within Your Genre

Genres are more or less conversations composed of stories. They are built upon break out hits, popular tropes, emerging trends, current concerns, stylistic flourishes. You can't be part of the conversation if you don't know what's already been discussed. You don't want to bumble your way into a genre you barely know, talk a big game about "revolutionizing it", and end up writing a trite replication of a 50-year-old pillar of the genre.

2. Read Widely OUTSIDE Your Genre

At their best, genres are conversations. At their worst, they are the bland copying of other peoples' homework. You need to bring new conversational partners in (or, to mix metaphors, new DNA) to keep things fresh. I'm a spec fic person first and foremost, but I make sure I mix that diet up with other genres, from "literary" fiction, mysteries, romance, etc, because they'll teach you the elements your own preferred genre(s) might be missing.

3. Read Non-Fiction

Non-fiction are stories too, just stories about true facts. (Some of those stories are truer than others; some are more convincing; the two aren't necessarily the same). Learning how those narratives are built is vital. Not to mention, the information itself can inspire you— real life science, history, sociology, economics, etc, are fertile beds for world-building, characterization, and plot.

4. Read From Other Backgrounds and Cultures Besides Your Own

I'm hardly the first person to say that the publishing industry, like so many industries, primarily elevates certain voices— white, western, male, often privileged— over others. This is gonna give you a bit of a narrow perspective of how the world works. It is also likely to give you a narrow perspective of how stories are constructed. There are a LOT of pieces of writing advice that's treated like universal (the Three Act structure, the Hero's Journey, etc) that are really just extremely common in Western literature, and looking at pieces from outside it will expand your ideas of how to create stories.

5. Read From Other Time Periods

Honestly, this is sort of just a different take on the last one ('The Past Is A Different Country', or so they say), but it's different enough that I want to clarify it. Tropes and trends and story convention change over time. Read stories from 50 years ago; 200; 500; 2000. Plays, fairy tales, ballads, poems. Seriously, ancient mythological epics are SO cool to read because you truly feel connected to a storytelling tradition stretching back generations.

6. Read Books for Kids and Youth

The best kids books have stunning clarity of purpose. They have to be REALLY good at communicating their information. Learn from that.

7. Consume Other Mediums

I wish we had a better word for this, because 'consumption' does bring to mind someone just ploughing through food endlessly without thought or discernment, but we don't have another word for the breadth of ways we enjoy media. Watch television and movies and short films (and consider how those formats differ). Listen to podcasts and radio plays. Watch stage plays. Read the scripts of all the above. Read comics and graphic novels. Play video games. Watch the news. Listen to music. Go to art museums and galleries of all stripes. All of these have different strengths and weaknesses, different pacing, different styles. Learn from them.

8. Pay Attention to the Media You Might Not Even Think About As Media

Yes, we're taking the last one even further. I'm talking about the media often overlooked, either because it's often denigrated by society, or because frankly, it just blends in the background. In the first category, that's stuff like reality TV and social media posts and graffiti. In the second we have things like Facebook Marketplace posts or the backs of cereal boxes or the technical manual for your new air conditioner. (Advertisements live somewhere in the Venn diagram overlap between the two.) These all also have their own structure, styles, and merits.

9. Read Bad (and Simply Mediocre) Media

Recommendation lists will usually be filled with examples of good stories, because, well, they're good. But if you're reading in part to learn how to write, there's a lot to be gleamed by pieces that just... miss the mark. Whether it's clocks or cars or electronics, when things break you can gleam insights into how they're supposed to work; much is the same with the not-so-great media.

10. Read Indie Stuff

Pretty much every medium's industry has formal publishers who help distribute art, and in theory, vet for quality. They are, broadly, successful at that... but as I've discussed before, those same publishers can often act as gatekeepers, with an overly narrow view of what counts as "quality". Across mediums, the indie space is often where you'll find the most unique, experimental, and boundary-pushing art. It can be harder to navigate, but oh, is it worth it.

11. Read Fanfic

I'm sharing this on Tumblr, so I suspect I'm mostly preaching to the choir here, but nonetheless. In addition to the aforementioned benefits of indie media, fanfiction is capable of teaching you how to write transformative works. I'd argue transformative works have always been the bedrock of human storytelling, and that has not changed at all in the modern day. Mainstream media is choc-a-block with remakes, reboots, and adaptations, most of it bad. Why? Because they don't know what makes for a good transformative work. So open up AO3, my children, and read!

12. Read Other Writers' Thoughts About The Writing Process

Well, since you've gotten to the twelfth point, you've succeeded there.

Okay, but seriously, I put this so low on the list because I do think it can sometimes be overstated; it is very easy to get lost in the weeds of theory over simply just writing. But it is good to process and reflect on all the things you've been reading, and this is a good way to do so.

And above all else, as you explore the wide wealth of pieces people throughout time and cultures have created, to paraphrase my friend Artemis: be curious about it. Curiosity is where the cool things happen.

[nctstar]

Can I get a smut of Johnny suh using his size and strength kink on a petite female Y/N? Thank you~

heyy! i'm so sorry this is absurdly late :(( but hope you still like it! <3

small

Wasting no time to rid himself of his clothes, he spoke. “This room is fine, right?” Muscles bulging as he fiddled with his shirt, the ridges of his chest drawing in the singlet, you bit your finger almost comically. “Hello? Earth to _?” The brown of his eyes were soft, a sharp contrast to his stature. He smirked, his hair bouncing as he threw his head back slightly. “Like what you see?”

pairing: johnny suh x fem!reader

other members: none

word count: 2.4k

genre: romance, smut

warnings: sexual content so minors please dni!! as per the request the reader is smaller than Johnny but I refrained from describing body parts or her specific size or anything like that, she is just short. if you're sensitive to this kind of talk though maybe don't read <3 mild profanity, lots of kissing, johnny carries reader, manhandling, descriptions of johnny's torso and body throughout, dirty talk about the size of his ding dong schlong, mild degradation (use of slut), ripping clothes bc those muscles do more than lift weights <3, clitoral stimulation/fingering, reader is pretty slutty and dumb during sex (aren't we all), missionary sex, praising (sweet girl, good girl), condom use, talking after sex (post nut clarity fr)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. 

a/n: i have been in such a writer's slump particularly with smut! like i think i need some time off to write some good fics and some good smut, so i'm sorry anon and to all my lovely readers if this is shit :(

“Now why would he ever say that?” You peeked at your friend pacing around your small room through your hair. Scissors in one hand, your (new) bangs in the other, you winced. “Wait, girl, I made a mistake I think.”

She sighed as you let the strands flutter across your forehead, uneasiness settling in your stomach. “Didn’t you follow what he said?” Brad Mondo’s curtain bangs tutorial continued in the background as you turned your head expectantly from side to side. Your friend held your head in place with open palms, looking at you through the mirror. “It’s actually kinda cute. Makes you look…well…”

“Don’t say small.” She snorted, bringing a hand to her face to unsuccessfully cover her mouth. “I don’t care, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

You pushed yourself off the stool, rolling your eyes as you started undressing. “He didn’t mean it like that.” Your belt clinked as your jeans fell to the carpet, and you started bringing your shirt over your heard. “I’m sure it was his way of complimenting me.” Despite all your efforts, you couldn’t stop the annoyance that cemented your words into place. “I guess.”

“Girl, you need to tell him that it bothers you.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“Yeah, and it’s not weird to call some girl you’ve been on two dates with small.”

The doorbell cut through the air, making you both jump. “Shit. It’s like he heard or something.”

“Shit. Wait, just let him in and get him to wait downstairs. Okay?” Sudden panic was settling into your body, making your hands shake. Your friend got the message and hurried downstairs, zipping her skirt up in record time while hobbling downstairs. “Hope I don’t smell like chicken. I hate having shifts on Fridays.”

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you pulled the skirt over the curves of your thighs and butt, watching the way it held onto your body. Stuffing the ends of the top into the skirt, you walked over to pick out a pair of shoes.

“I’m heading out! Johnny’s waiting down here!” Your friend’s voice made your body do the kind of useless flurry that it does whenever you know you’re running out of time, and you drag out the highest heels you own. Small, my ass.

“Hey!” As usual, he softened his frame when he saw you, placing his hands in his pockets and smiling so big so you would forget to feel intimidated by his 6-foot stature, or rock-hard physique. His eyes were like small moons, bursting on his face whenever he smiled. “Hey, nice bangs.” You instinctively went to fiddle with them, silently cursing yourself for messing them up. “Thanks.” Your smile was a little forced, but you were giddy to see him, your body rocking back and forth without your permission, ankles rubbing against each other.

∞

“The pasta was so good,” you couldn’t stop raving, your hips knocking into Johnny as he walked you home, arms linked. “Like seriously, Johnny. So good.”

He laughed, the sound leaving him effortlessly. “I’m so glad you liked it. I remember the pasta here being amazing, but I was worried you would think I’m cheap or not taking you seriously. The place being run down and all.” You shook your head, your bangs shuffling from side to side as you did. “No, of course not. I would rather eat something good on the street than a tiny portion of something small and pretentious at an upscale place.”

He hummed, moonlight hitting his body, softening some angles and sharpening others, hair glowing golden brown as he walked. Your heels clacked against the linoleum of your front porch as you wondered whether your friend was home, but before you could reach for the front door, your knees buckled. You let out a small gasp as you felt Johnny’s arms around your body, pinching into your skin almost uncomfortably. “Oh shit! I’m okay, babe.” You both froze at the sudden nickname, his arms loosening around you as you straightened up. You shakily continued. “U-uhm, sorry, I mean-“

“I think your shoes broke.”                                                                   

Yeah, no shit, you wanted to bite back. But you held your tongue, frustration seeping through your pores as you held onto the rail, Johnny hovering protectively over you as you took the right heel off, now newly broken in two pieces. “Oh my god. These were so expensive! Ugh!”

“It’s okay. Maybe I can buy you another pair. Babe.” He said the last word almost sarcastically, and you glared at him. “Johnny.”

“I’m serious. I’m sorry those broke so easily. I’ll bring a new pair next time?”

“Johnny, wait.”

“You like me, right?” His face crumpled just a tiny bit. Not exaggerated like in the movies or anything, so subtle you would never notice from afar, or if you weren’t close. You warmed at the thought of knowing him so closely, so well, enough to know that something was not right in the lines of his eyebrows.

You gulped, not knowing how to respond.

“I feel like you kinda hate me.” He crinkled his nose when he said hate, almost sarcastically, but his tone jabbed you straight in the chest. You shook your head. No, of course not, you wanted to say. I like you. I like you so much. But I am small to you. I wonder if you think of me as small. Do YOU like me?

“I just, I don’t like being small.” He frowned, and so did you, the words sounding stupid as soon as they filled the small space between your bodies. “I mean, you called me small the other day. And I know you probably, well, definitely, meant it as a cute thing. Like physically. Like a term of endearment, you know? But, I don’t wanna be seen as small, like more than physically. You know what I mean?” You cringed internally at your words, watching him stare blankly back at you.

“Right.”

“I’m so sorry. I sound like such a jerk. I don’t mean to be hung up over one little word you said.” You bit your lip, tasting the remnants of your lipstick on your tongue. “It’s just what made me feel a little weird. But, I do like you, Johnny.” Your heart raced as you looked up at him. Your body moved without permission for the umpteenth time, and your arms melted around his hips, fingers splaying across the small of his back. Your mind screamed at you, but your body ignored it, burning up from within.

Tentatively, he brought one hand to your chin, skin warm but rough on yours. “I don’t think low of you. I never have. I just think you’re so fucking gorgeous. So perfect the way you are.” The butterflies in your stomach were now dancing, free, leaping over hills and grassy plains. “Sorry for the poor choice of words.”

You smiled, some of the tension leaving you as you let your bodies merge seamlessly, like lanes on an open road, like the sun as it meets the horizon. You kicked off your other shoe, standing on your tiptoes to meet his lips with yours. He tentatively glazed his hands over your sides, making you shiver and moan into his mouth. You brought your fingers to the nape of his neck, savouring the taste. “Mmm, Johnn-“

You yelped when he gripped your thigh, guiding it to press against his hips. “Jump up for me, baby.” You giggled, nodding as you straddled him, his torso gently rebounding back with your weight. As you met his lips once more, dragging your forearms across the top of his shoulders, you heard your front door open and close, the door to the downstairs bedroom fling wide open. As your back hit the bed, your hair splayed out onto the fresh sheets, knees bent, lipstick smeared.

Wasting no time to rid himself of his clothes, he spoke. “This room is fine, right?” Muscles bulging as he fiddled with his shirt, the ridges of his chest drawing in the singlet, you bit your finger almost comically. “Hello? Earth to _?” The brown of his eyes were soft, a sharp contrast to his stature. He smirked, his hair bouncing as he threw his head back slightly. “Like what you see?”

“Uh huh.” All the shame left your body as you drew circles on his body and face with your eyes, letting his thick frame tower over you. “Is this okay?” He breathed into your collarbone, and when you nodded fervently, you felt his lips suck and nip at your neck. Gasping, you gripped onto his neck, letting your ankles hook around the back of his jean-clad legs. “Y-yes. Yes please. Don’t tease, I want y-you so much.”

“Yeah?” He played with the buttons of your top, but you stopped him. “I can’t wait…just rip it off, please. I need you. Right now. Please, just use me. I know you can.” He drew an eyebrow upwards, and you almost felt a slight twinge of embarrassment until you heard the top rip, cold air exposing your lace bra, tits bulging as you arched your chest off the bed. “What a slut. Is this what you wanted all along?” He laughed as you wriggled under him, mouth latching onto the tops of your boobs. He released you only to throw your arms up, pinning your wrists down to the bed to watch your reaction. When you bit your lip in response, bringing your core closer to his, he laughed darkly. “Freak.”

“Yes, just for you, fuck, please.”

“Bet you’re just soaked under this tight little skirt. Want me to rip this off too?” You nodded before he could even finish his sentence, and the sound of your fabric ripping filled the air. “Mmm, just as I suspected.” As he dragged your panties down your thighs, you felt your wetness pool onto the sheets under you. “Please, please, hold me down and fuck me.” You whispered into his ear, letting your plump lips graze against his skin as you massaged the nape of his neck with your fingers. You whimpered when his jean-clad bulge bumped against your clit, the burn in your core growing with every passing second.

He kissed you deeply, pulling away at an agonising pace. “Tell me why, baby.” You whined, trying to gather some friction between your legs with no avail. His arms pinned yours to either side of your head, his legs like heavy weights against yours. “Please, I just, I want your cock i-inside me, w-want it to split me open…” He shook his head. “What makes you think I would do that to you? I’m too big for you, honey.”

You whined. “N-no, please. I don’t care, just, push it in me…” He laughed, kissing you. “Please, I want to feel so full…” He shushed you, sitting up to unbuckle his jeans. “Mmm, yes, yes please…” You were just babbling nonsense, the anticipation too intense to bear. His cock sprung out of his boxers, hitting his stomach, precum spilling out the edges of the tip. You heard him rip open a condom packet, dragging it on his length at lightning speed. He ran his cockhead through the folds of your pussy, making you whimper. “So wet.” He breathed, and you gasped as his tip entered you at an agonisingly slow place. “J-Johnny.” Your brain fought your body, wanting him to continue but feeling apprehensive at the impending stretch. “You’re so big. Fuck.” You snuck a hand down towards your clit, but Johnny grabbed your wrist, leaning over to kiss your chin. “Let me.” As he pressed one finger onto your core, you gasped, back arching, eyes squeezing shut. “O-oh, oh my…”

“You like that?” He started speeding up, your gasps and moans like drugs to his system. When he pulled away, he started pushing his length in, and you let out a deep breath, as if you had been holding it in the entire time. “Fuck.” You drawled, feeling him in every corner of your insides. “Fuck, Johnny. You’re, you’re so big, and s-strong.”

Johnny laughed, and you wondered for a second whether you had ruined the mood. “My cock making you lose your filter, babe?” You blushed, but the constant bump and stretch on your clit had your vision go foggy, your head spinning deliriously. You used your forearms to push away, breathing deeply as if his cock had suffocated you from the inside out. Johnny wrapped his arms around your hips, bringing you flush against his pelvis in one swift movement. “Uh uh, where do you think you’re going?” His snarkiness and the fulness in your lower stomach made your core squeeze excessively. “Ah, shit! Fuck, I think I’m gon-“ You felt it before you could finish your sentence, your climax stealing the words out of your mouth, making your heart thump incessantly against your ribcage.

Johnny cooed at your, his forearms now caging you by your head, peppering light kisses on your face. “You alright, sweet girl?” You nodded, gasping. “Please, please move.” He chuckled, groaning as he pulled back to thrust into you, making you throw your head back and scream. “Fuck, oh my god.” Your body shook with the force of his steady thrusts, his legs pinning your body down to the bed. “Good girl, that’s it.” He groaned, getting sloppier as he reached his climax. “You’re so good for me. So eager for me to pin you down and fuck you. Because I’m so big and strong, right?” You reached for Johnny’s neck, the embarrassment at your previous comments leaving you as you felt your core tighten, coil ready to snap. “Fuck, you just gripped me so tight, fuck. Nasty girl.” You moaned as you came, feeling him release inside the condom with a throaty moan.

Both of you heaving, gasping for air, you pulled Johnny close to your body, kissing his collarbone, his neck, his face. “I do like you, a lot.” Your breath tickled his skin as you spoke, and he stroked your hair gently with one hand, using the other to pull away from you to look into your eyes. “I’m sorry for calling you small. I admit, it’s a little weird.”

“Apology accepted. I think we’ve both called each other things we’re never gonna say again.”

“No, hon, you should always call me big and strong Johnny-“

“Johnny, please. Never mention that again. It was a moment of weakness!” You whined, shielding your face as he laughed, slipping off you to lie next to you on the bed. “Kinda sexy though.” You slapped his arm playfully, laughing as slipped down his forearm to take his hand in yours.

“I’ll think of something better for next time, promise.”

[7weaslesinacoat]

y’all orgy starfire in the new 52 outlaws is absolutely foul work

it’s not like a profound thought or whatever but dc literally only uses her as a love interest or sex appeal 80% of the time, or a plot point for literally every other character around her and like- listen i haven’t read every starfire featuring comic (bc obv she doesn’t have her own comic. why would she? she’s only been a vital character since the 80s. which btw what’s up w that?? her story is fucking awesome??)

but like bro pops up sometimes for a main event, and then literally everything else she’s in features like twelve percent story and twenty bajillion percent tits and being romanced by literally everyone? and it’s like what the hell- like she is arguably more interesting then fifty percent of the dc lineup. bro i’m pretty sure snowflame is taken more seriously than her—

and yeah. sometimes she has her moments, or a story based on her… but even in those stories they’re mainly somewhat degrading of her, at least a little. it just seems that dc writers are allergic to genuinely respecting her

the most attention she gets is when put in a lineup with Dick or jason- which- like- what the holy freak is up with jason x kory? that’s weird.

and then it’s like polyamorous with roy???

like sort of canonically- what the hell? what sorta shitty fanfic is this???

((literally wrote all of this in the tone of the woke m&ms fox news guy))

though, though to be fair. i didn’t finish outlaws. at least not the new 52 ver. because it was insufferable IN MY OPINION ✋😬✋

and yeah. she gets some serious attention, but literally pages after she talks about how she wants to get with both roy and jason- like huh?and it’s like. roy is right there, if you wanna use anyone for sex appeal, use roy harper. we can incorporate female hero’s into comics without them being side characters mixed with badass sex appeal.

anyway

[dchuntress]

update: my thoughts on the rh solo

in my initial reaction to the announcement, i was pretty much a mixture of negative emotions, as i have been dreading all the nonsense that tends to happen with female characters being made into side characters/love interests. i have made quite a lot of overzealous posts as i was ruminating over it in the worst light possible. for the most part of it, i was criticising the sexist pattern in dc, the company as a whole, and most honestly, That cover art; i was admittedly a lot more focused on the internal implications of the things, and didn't think a lot about the external implications of my posts.

it took me some time to learn about the writer, gretchen felker-martin, and it took me a lot more time to calm down and understand why the premature backlash surrounding this book could be hurtful to her; nothing happens in a vacuum, especially considering the current political climate and the ill treatment of trans women on this site as well as in real life, by laws.

i never once intended to target or criticise gretchen felker-martin specifically, i was more so assuming something dreadful to happen with the book as a part of a larger pattern that happens with bats being uplifted and whatnot, but that is still an assumption i've been making about something that hasn't come out and something i haven't read. and that really isn't fair.

the art, once again, isn't something i'm a big fan of. but again, summaries can be misleading/reductive of the actual story. this is something that had happened to me with a different comic, crossbow at the crossroads - something i did not enjoy at first, but then later come to enjoy and love as one of my most favourite books ever. opinions about things like these can fluctuate, but the fluctuations can happen only when i engage with them.

i will not be talking about the book any further, seriously, until it's released in its entirety til the last issue.

i am sorry for my overreaction, and my delay to reconsider, i admittedly have considered myself justified in my reactions and that's why it was difficult for me to rethink what i was saying/doing and to consider other perspectives. i feel really stupid and ached, and i need to stop myself from getting so worked up easily in public forums like this again.

i do not find it wise to judge the content of the book prematurely based on the author's personal life or old tweets. skill =/= morality, and i think it's unfair to go through the author's personal life. it's okay to not want to read something without a reason, let's not welcome her with backlash.

another thing i want to add: about the copaganda, i'm positive it won't really happen considering that gretchen has been critical of cops in her previous comics/writings involving them. again, summaries and previews can be misleading or not displaying the full picture, so hopefully there won't really be anything to dread in the next three months.

i'm not sure what my schedule looks like in september, but i have reconsidered my stance with a calm mind and have decided to give this book a chance at my own pace, to examine it for myself. if the romance does happen, that is something i will skip entirely for my own sake of peace. anything and almost everything else, i will try to approach it with an open mind. it doesn't mean that everybody has to; i think, you should only give it a chance when you want to to give it a fair chance. otherwise, let's read something else.

the backlash isn't productive. fans of either characters, i suggest us staying in our own lanes and not spreading misinformation about them.

let's also not fill up helena's tags with other characters in excess. considering checking out @helenabertinelliweek to find inspiration for what you could fill up her tags with, we can redirect our frustration into creative fuel and earnestly engage with the character.

let's hope that it all turns out well in the end.

once again, i am sorry. i have acted recklessly and i should've realised this much sooner.

[cloverchameleon]

It Has to be Perfect! Sonic Big Bang 2025!

This year I participated in a Sonic the Hedgehog Big Bang event via @sthbigbang as a fic writer. This will be my first time posting a fic to tumblr, so that'll be interesting. As part of this event, I collaborated with a few artists who've drawn some amazing pieces for this story!

@thekeerok [art link]

@chiaraeliz [art link]

@pyriteparasite [art link]

Beta read by @harthic

It Has to be Perfect! Pairing: Tangle/Whisper (IDW comics) Length: 7,141 words, oneshot Rating: G Summary: Tangle is a lemur on a mission. A mission to create one grand, absolutely perfect, peak romance date for her girlfriend, Whisper. But with so many wacky characters around, something is bound to go a little sideways - okay, maybe a lot of somethings. But she can salvage this! ...right?

[SPOILER WARNING: THIS FIC CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE IDW SONIC COMICS UP TO ISSUE #75, INCLUDING THE TANGLE & WHISPER MINISERIES]

Jewel the Beetle flits comfortably through the familiar streets of Spiral Hill Village on a beautiful, quiet day. Every day in Spiral Hill tends to be very quiet – with a few very notable and extreme exceptions. It’s part of what she always liked about it, having as nervous of a temperament as she does; the slow, monotonous day to day of such a place, even from more of a leadership position, was always a cozy, manageable level of stress. And when anxiety makes a few misappropriated agates feel like the world crashing down, this place really did feel like the most she would ever be able to handle. It’s a little strange to be back here now, after everything she’d gotten wrapped up in and the genuine world-crashing stakes she’s had to lead people through. But just as much as this place has a comforting pillow-fort security to it to her, she knows one girl who finds that kind of peace and quiet stifling to the point of madness. In fact, that’s why she’s on a mission here now. It’s because she knows that Tangle the Lemur was coming home for a little while between adventures – and that if she hasn’t heard back from her, whining about being bored or cooking up some new thing to chase down, she may well have gotten caught up in another incident in this town’s sudden increase in incidents per year.

Jewel flies up to the door of Tangle’s home and gives it a nervous little knock.

“…maybe she’s not h-“

The door slams open. “HELLO?”

Tangle is wide-eyed, restless, disheveled. That sort of post all-nighter so-tired-it-looped-back-around-to-hyper jittery. “Oh, hey Jewel! I’m kinda busy – is everything okay?”

Jewel is taken aback – and not just the distance she had to get aback to dodge the door.

“I’m… fine. Are you?”

“I’m great – I’m so good! Oh! You like planning stuff! Come here, you’ll love this!”

“AAH!”

Tangle pulls Jewel along like a startled balloon into the house, excitedly rambling “I’ve been working on this for ages, but I’ve finally got every detail ironed out – it’s a foolproof plan, Jewel! Every possibility accounted for!”

“You… planned something?”

“Yeah!”

“In detail?”

“All the detail!! That’s why I wanna show you, you’re the most enthusiastic planner I know, I’m sure you’ll get a kick out of… this?”

Tangle trails off looking back at Jewel. Jewel in the meantime has snagged an umbrella and tearfully holds it overhead, ready to bash.

“Alright, shapeshifter – where’s the real Tangle?”

Tangle looks unimpressed. She plucks the umbrella away with her tail.

“I’m not a shapeshifter, I’m planning a date for Whisper. Do you want to see my cool plans or not?”

Jewel looks skeptical.

Tangle sighs. “When we were 9 you submitted an anonymous tip to the town newspaper to complain about the font choice for the new street signs and got embarrassed because everyone knew it was you.”

“It wasn’t a good font… Okay, fine, I believe you’re you. But can you blame me? I’ve never known you to plan anything in high detail. Do you usually do this for dates?”

“Only when it really matters.” Tangle flings the umbrella to go crash into some other part of the room that can be a later problem. She opens a door and triumphantly bounces in. “Check it, Jewel!”

Jewel’s eyes widen taking in the scene.

“Oh… oh my.”

“BAM!” Tangle throws her arms open wide, slapping the wall where she’s set out a conspiracy board of sorts – pictures, notes, printed reviews and menus, a big world map festooned with little doodles and pins – even bits of red string that don’t seem to be actually connecting ideas to each other. Simply there because boards have red string.

“I’ve been working on it all week! Ha-HAH! It’s gonna be GREAT!!” She grins and bounces in place. “I’ve been reading a ton of articles about all the most romantic places and things in the world – I’ve become a whole romance-ologist!”

“I don’t think that’s a word.”

Jewel’s quiet objection is completely bowled over by Tangle cartwheeling to the far end of the chart and carrying on. “But I hear ya, Jewel – ‘Tangle, these are all over the place! There’s no way you can do them all in one date!’ WRONG! Cause Tails gave me this!”

She whips out a small, yellow-orange remote control, with a zig-zaggy antenna with a ball on the end, a little keyboard and screen, and a tiny little fox nose and whiskers decal on it.

“This bad boy’ll let me put in the coordinates of anywhere on the planet and zip-zap-zop, there we are!! He said – he said, uh – that’s it! He said:

‘That multi-portal Eggman and I built with Starline’s weird tech got me thinking. We have friends all over the world – Sonic’s fast, but even he gets tired running back and forth across the whole ocean when someone needs him – and that doesn’t help the rest of us get there to help too! I can only make the Tornado so fast before it’s too dangerous for passengers. So I’ve been reverse engineering the blah blah blah tech talk, satellites or something, I dunno – to make the MOVE System! All my tests have been going great, it’s safe to use, it just needs a stress test to see how much use it can take! And I can’t think of anyone better to stress it out than you.’

“So he gave me the remote, showed me how to use it, and bada-bing bada-boom, IDEA!” she slaps the chart again, “OPERATION KISS THE GIRL!”

Jewel reels – as she often does when trying to keep up with Tangle – and looks at all the pinned stops. “Put in… coordinates? Tangle, doesn’t that mean you need to know the exact latitude and longitude of every place on this list? There’s no way you can memorize all-“

“I WAS UP ALL NIGHT MEMORIZING ALL OF THEM!” she pumps her arms triumphantly. She turns and starts pointing at places, listing off coordinate codes at top Tangle speed until Jewel puts a hand over her mouth.

“Sweetie, don’t you think this is all a bit… much? This is far too much pressure to put on yourself for one date.”

“No it’s not.”

Jewel jumps at her sudden serious tone.

“Whisper trusts me. I know you don’t know her like I do, but that’s a big deal. She deserves better – she deserves everything.” Tangle wrings the hem of her shirt. “She deserves this much effort and so much more, and I’m gonna give it all to her. I’ll make sure she doesn’t regret it.”

“Regret it? Tangle…”

Jewel is cut off this time by a loud beeping. Tangle shoves back the edge of her glove to reveal a little watch and turns off its alarm.

“THAT’S TIME!! I gotta go pick up my girlfriend! Bye Jewel, see ya later, stay safe, byeeeee!!!”

She speeds off, sending papers flying off her chart in the slipstream. Jewel reaches for her helplessly. Worried.

Whisper the Wolf meanders peacefully through Spiral Hill Village. It’s a much more pleasant place to visit when you’re not in a high stakes game of cat and mouse with a murderous traitor or… something. Yeah, much nicer without something like that hanging over one’s head. It’s hard to imagine someone like Tangle coming from such a calm place. Or maybe it makes sense that an adventurous spirit would get that hyper with so few adventures in arm or tail’s reach. At the very least, it makes sense that such a sleepy town tasked with raising a Tangle would be as ready to brace and dodge that swinging, flipping, bouncing ball of energy as the way Whisper watches them respond to her running up the street toward her.

“HIIII WHISPER!” Tangle calls, waving enthusiastically. She dives at Whisper, who just as readily braces herself to let Tangle swing her momentum out – revolving around her before wrapping back into a hug.

“You seem extra excited… something to do with that surprise you promised me?” Whisper’s soft, quiet voice teases.

Tangle grabs onto Whisper’s shoulders to lean back and squeal. “Yes yes yes it is! Cause I have this!” She whips out the little remote.

Whisper shifts her mask to eye it curiously. “…what is it?”

“This, my fair lady, is the very first remote for the – the, uh – the-“ she squints at the label maker sticker on the back, “Mobility Over Variable Energies… system.”

They both stare at the cartoony device.

“You know, I think he comes up with a good acronym first and then picks whatever words he can make fit it.” Tangle says.

“It also has two-way radio, so maybe watch what buttons you’re pressing before you start making comments.” The device crackles back.

Tangle grimaces. “Sorry, Tails – thank you, Tails.” She releases the microphone button. “A-anyway. As I was saying – I have big plans for us today, Whisper! First stop, Apotos!!”

Whisper tilts her head. “Apotos? If this is going to be a whole trip, I could use a little more time to prepare…”

“Why Whisper, my dear, who needs to take a whole long, expensive trip like that when we can have a one-day Apotos vacation at the push of a button?”

Tangle types. And types. “…at the push of several buttons HEY there we GO!”

She points the remote at an empty space nearby and confirms her coordinates in the system. Almost instantly, space wibbles and warps, ripples spreading out like a pebble dropped in a pond. A whirling, light orange portal sits in front of them. Tangle gives a little bow and holds her arm out to Whisper with a wink.

“Shall we depart, miss?”

Whisper breathes out a tiny laugh and takes her arm. Together, they step through the whirling light. Back at Spiral Hill, the portal closes quickly behind them.

The two of them are hit with a sensation not unlike missing a step on a staircase. A disoriented lurch and the sensation of falling toward very close ground. They support each other as they catch their footing on the other side of a rippling orange circle that’s waved to life just above pale cobblestone paths.

The duo step, blinking against the brighter light, out into a breezy Apotos morning. The sunlight bounces off the white buildings, making them look almost luminous. Seabirds drift lazily on the ocean breeze coming off the perfectly blue water rolling invitingly a little ways off. Whisper approaches the wall of the raised walkway they’re on and leans on it to look out over the water.

“It’s beautiful…”

“Yeah…” Tangle smiles toward her. “Y-yeah! Top ten vacation spot!”

Whisper looks at her curiously.

“S-so I hear – always wanted to visit, so hey, why not, y’know? But uh, yeah, I figure we could…” she does a little circling motion with her finger, “…walk around a bit? Take in the sights, maybe, uh – hey!”

Tangle hops around her, guiding her gaze over toward an ice cream stand opening up for the day.

“Maybe some ice cream for the walk? I’m pretty sure it’s like 8am here, but hey, it was afternoon back home, and clearly no one ever told this guy ice cream isn’t a breakfast food – so that works out for us!”

Whisper snickers. “Sure, ice cream sounds nice.”

And so they stroll together down the alabaster streets of the island, hand-in-hand. It’s certainly a far cry from Spiral Hill – but even the beaches back home have a very different atmosphere to them. There’s simply something in the way the breeze rolls off the ocean here that feels warm and serene compared to their coast’s playfulness. Tangle steals a look over at Whisper. She looks happy. Curious and relaxed, taking in the sights in a way that doesn’t feel tactical this time. Tangle can’t help but smile. She’s doing it! She’s going to get a good grade in girlfriending! A very normal thing to think!! 

Just as they get close enough to the ice cream booth to read the menu, they see the truly decadent cone the vendor is assembling in a little stand and wonder at the balancing act of it all – chocolate and vanilla scoops dotted with chunks of chocolate, multiple fruits both chocolate-dipped and plain around the edge, pocky and an extra wedge of waffle cone in it for good measure – confidently slid across to the edge of the counter at its completion. A work of art to be sure. Although there’s no sign of any customer waiting to eat it before it melts. Before an eager-looking Tangle can volunteer on their behalf, they both jump – battle-ready, alert – at the blur that shoots by and sets the stand spinning in a clattering circle. Robbed of its pride and joy.

Sonic leans against the corner of the booth and looks over the frosty treat. He gives an appreciative whistle. 

“This might be your best one yet! Take a look at that!” he shares a friendly, familiar smile with the shopkeeper before plucking a chocolate-dipped strawberry off to pop into his mouth.

“Only the best for my best customer! And how about you ladies? You look like you could use a scoop or two. What can I get you?”

Sonic follows his eyes to them and waves.

“Well, hey there! Fancy seeing you two here!”

“HI SONIC!” Tangle waves back.

“Hello!” Whisper puts her hand up.

“Friends of yours, I take it?” the vendor asks him.

“Oh yeah, you know me. Mr. Popular over here. I’m guessing they’re here to try the best ice cream in the world – is that right, girls?”

Tangle’s eyes sparkle. “The best in the world? Really?”

“Oh yeah! If you’re looking for recommendations, you’ve got to try the Sundae Supreme,” he waggles the impressive cone, “they come with a hefty seal of approval.”

“A favorite of yours? It doesn’t seem like your usual fare.” Whisper teases.

“Hah, not quite. But a close friend loved them. I come by to get them – for him, you know? And they’re great every time!”

Whisper nods solemnly.

Tangle gulps. The atmosphere is taking a turn for the sad – gotta get this train back on the track!

“SO! If they’re that good, we’ll take two!” She calls, a bit too loudly, to the vendor.

He matches her energy with an equally loud and enthusiastic “Two Sundae Supremes for the lovely ladies, coming right up!”

Tangle taps her foot anxiously, watching Whisper and Sonic continue to chat. They lean on the wall lining the walkway and look out over the water, talking about the scenery here. What if they talk more about this whole memorial ceremony he’s doing – it’s not that she doesn’t care about his loss, that sucks, she’d love to talk about it another time for sure! But what if they start talking about it, and Whisper starts thinking too much about her old friends, and everything she’s done for their memories, and then she gets sad, and she doesn’t want to keep doing this date! And then when she thinks about dates with Tangle she thinks about being miserable in such a pretty place and she doesn’t want to go on any more dates at all, and then she doesn’t want to be her girlfriend at all, and breakups are so awkward, so she stops wanting to see her anywhere, and she leaves, and it’s all her fault, and-

Tangle’s anxious, tapping, spiraling mess of thoughts are interrupted by a loud crash that shakes the walkway. She runs up to the wall and looks down with the others. A submarine of some sort has emerged from the water and started spitting out badniks that are already beginning to attack the outskirts of town.

“Tch, can’t even take one morning off, huh? Alright.” Sonic scarfs down the ice cream cone. “If that’s how Eggman wants to – ahhh ah-ah-ah, brain freeze!”

Whisper points the ice cream vendor toward the buildings. “Go. Get somewhere safe.”

“Good call, Whisper. Ah, geeze, gotta stop eating cold stuff that fast! Alright!” He steps up onto the wall and does a couple stretches in place, “Change of plans! Let’s scramble some eggs, and then ice cream’s on me!”

Whisper nods and draws her wispon.

“WAAAAIIIIT!”

They both stop. They turn, utterly confused, to Tangle.

“Hi, yeah, sorry – actually, Sonic, do you mind if we… maybe dip? We’re uh – we’re sort of on a date? Right now?”

Sonic blinks. “Oh.” He looks between them. “Oh – OH! Yeah, of course! Go, go, have fun! There’s barely any bots here, I can handle this solo no problem – you two go get your romance on! Sorry, Tangle!”

“No problem! We’re just gonna – yeah! We’re just gonna head out!”

She hooks Whisper’s arm and types a new code onto the remote, quickly popping up a new portal.

“Ooh, fresh Tails tech?”

“Yeah!”

“Nice. Alright, you kids have fun now. I’ll catch ya later!” Sonic gives them a little salute and hops off the wall.

“Come on, he’s got this. And we’ve got plans!” Tangle encourages Whisper. She sighs and begrudgingly puts her wispon away.

“Okay… where did you have in mind?”

They step through to a bustling city center, alive with chatter and cars – a sharp contrast to the slow, relaxed Apatos coast.

“Tah-dah!” Tangle trumpets at a crosswalk. “Oh. Wait-“ she takes Whisper’s shoulders and rotates both of them. “-tah-dah!”

They stand in front of a neon wonder – a world of flashing lights and dinging, singing machinery known as Secret Zone Games.

“Come on! I bet I can win more tickets than you!” Tangle teases.

Whisper snickers and nods. “You’re on.”

They pick through the digital playground, caught up in mostly friendly competition. Rolling skee-balls, mashing buttons, trying to pick the next nearest game they each think they’ll have the advantage in when they start slipping behind.

“I don’t remember Super Monkey Ball being that hard!” Tangle groans.

Whisper shrugs. “Never played it before.”

“What!? But you totally kicked my tail!!”

“Hm. Skill issue.”

“Ah! AH! Skill issue?? Oh, those are fighting words – that’s it. No more missus nice lemur – let’s cut the kiddie stuff and go where the real warriors test their skills, then we’ll see who has a skill issue!”

“And where would that be?”

“The rhythm games. Sure, you’ve revolutioned, but can you dance, dance?”

“I don’t think revolutioned is a word.”

“She’s dodging the question!” Tangle declares to an imaginary jury, “Sounds like someone’s scared to get shown up!”

Whisper grins. “You’re on.”

“Then let’s go, let’s settle this – all or nothin!”

Racing to the next section of games, they round the corner to an unexpected sight.

“Shadow?” Tangle asks.

Sure enough, the ultimate lifeform stands with his arms crossed next to a large claw machine full of adorable, multi-colored plush chao. And standing at the controls is a little cream-colored rabbit girl with her tongue out in intense concentration. She carefully lines up the claw and pushes the button to lower it into a plushy pile. As the claw makes contact with a doll, she starts aggressively mashing the button – but the doll slips right out of the claw’s loose grip and back into the pile.

“Dang it!” she huffs.

“Why are you hitting the button like that?” Shadow asks her incredulously.

“The internet says it helps.”

Shadow sneers. “Don’t just believe everything you read on the internet, Cream. It’s full of fools and liars.”

“And recipes.”

“Fine, fools, liars, and sometimes recipes.”

Tangle lands on top of the claw machine without warning.

“Hi Shadow! Hi Cream! I didn’t expect to see the two of you here – together, no less! How’d that happen?”

“Hi, Miss Tangle!” Cream waves.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Vanilla called in a favor. And lucky for her, I had nothing better to do today with Rouge taking Omega for maintenance.”

“Mister Shadow babysits me when Mom and Gemerl are busy!”

Tangle grins down at the kid. “Awww, isn’t that sweet! I knew you were a big ol softie, ya ol’ sharp, dark, and broody.”

Shadow snarls up at her. “Aren’t you busy right now?” he demands, gesturing back at Whisper. Her and Cream wave at each other.

“Ah!! You’re right, you’re right – sorry, Whisper! Have fun, Cream! See you around, Shadow!” She flips off of the claw machine.

“Not if I can help it.” Shadow grumbles at her back as she links arms with Whisper and they run off together. And so he turns his attention back to his charge – who is currently counting out her game tokens to see how many more chances she gets to win that chao doll.

“Don’t you want to try a different game?” he asks her, “It may be time to give up on this one.”

“Sonic says you can accomplish anything as long as you don’t give up. So I’m not gonna give up on this toy! I’m gonna win!”

“Tch, what does that guy know? The only thing he can actually outrun is his own sense of reason.”

“So… it doesn’t matter if I try my hardest, I still can’t win?”

“Someti-“ Shadow catches himself. And he catches those big, sad eyes – looking up to him, begging him to tell her the world can be fair. He can’t take it.

“…give it one more try, and then I see something I want to play.”

“Wow, really? Okay! One more try!”

Shadow leans against the machine with a huff while the little girl hypes herself up and inserts her tokens. He checks the coast is clear. And seeing no one looking their way, he presses a hand to the side of the machine. Just a bit more power to the claw. Make sure it holds onto the doll, make sure it carries it by whatever part of the damn thing it touches clear to the chute and into her eager little arms. He whispers to himself, buried under the hyperactive calls of a hundred games that couldn’t take her attention from her dreams.

“Chaos… control.”

Tangle and Whisper watch the commotion from the established perimeter. Whisper watches the action curiously. Tangle gapes in disbelief.

“What… do you mean… it caught fire!? Where?? How!?”

Whisper shrugs. “A lot of machines. Maybe the wiring couldn’t handle it.”

“It’s an arcade!!”

“Was an arcade.”

“It’s still an arcade, it’s just a slightly more on fire arcade!” Tangle looks around at the utter chaos. “Oh – HEY! CREAM, SHADOW – THAT WAS CRAZY, RIGHT??”

Shadow is carrying Cream on his back, and she looks absolutely shocked.

“It was the claw machine,” she tells them quietly, “I almost got my doll and the whole thing sparked green and started melting. How did that happen – did I do that?”

Shadow clears his throat uncomfortably. “It chose death rather than allow you victory over it. A coward’s way out.”

“Coward.” Cream parrots. Whisper nods.

“Yeesh, well that sucks.” Tangle rubs her neck with a grimace. “Guess that’s a sour note on both our days out, huh?”

Cream perks up. “Shadow says we’re gonna go to the toy store and I can pick out any doll I want!”

“She earned her victory square, I’ll not let her go home empty-handed.” He looks at Tangle smirking at him. “…stop that.”

“And in exchange, I don’t tell Momma we burned an arcade down!”

“IT’S NOT BURNED DOWN, IT’S JUST A LITTLE MORE ON FIRE.” Shadow and Tangle both exclaim.

Tangle puts her hands up before Shadow can glare at her any harder. “Okay, okay – well you two have fun with that! Whisper and I also have a backup plan~!”

“We do?”

“Yes indeed we do – I think we need more fun and games a lot closer to a source of water, don’t you?” She punches some numbers into her remote. “All aboard the romance train! Next stop, Emerald Coast! WHOO-WHOO!”

Tangle dances through the portal backwards, keeping an eye on Whisper, who gives her a little smile and a little, reserved arm waggling in return on their way through.

The air immediately smells and feels a world apart from the city. Now it’s heavy with the smells of fried foods and sweet treats galore, carried on a fresh saltwater breeze, and music and chatter carry across it more freely in the more open space.

“Tah-dah! There’s a carnival in town today! Come on, let’s play a couple more games and get that arcade energy out of us!”

“And then we can get some of those delicious-smelling snacks, right?”

“Well, if you insist.”

Whisper gives a little giggle, taking Tangle’s arm again. It’s perfect, she’ll win ring toss, or that milk bottle game, or both! And then she can give Whisper the prize from those and impress her! And if Whisper wants, she’d be a shoe-in for those shooting games these things always have, being a sniper and all, so she can also have a chance to show off and be so cool and pretty and – and then! She knows exactly what time they need to get on that big, beautiful ferris wheel in a few hours so they’ll be up at the top when the sun’s setting into the water, and it’ll be gorgeous and romantic and maybe they’ll even kiss and-

“Actually,” Whisper leans through Tangle’s thought bubble, “I’m kind of hungry. How about we get some food now and eat it by the beach? We can play afterwards.”

“Oh! Yeah! Yeah!!” Tangle pivots away from the game alley. “Yeah, let’s eat first! The beach looks great right now too, that’s a great idea!”

So they instead follow the siren call of unholy amounts of breaded and fried food. Soon they’re making their way down the pier, balancing their greasy treasures. In one hand Whisper holds the stick of a silly sort of corndog with a second, mini corndog jabbed on under it to make a little exclamation point  - in the other, a tray of fresh, hot onion rings. Tangle pants, trying to not burn her mouth on the ring sacrificed to make room for little paper cups of ketchup and mustard, her own hands occupied with a truly staggering concoction that might have once been considered tater tots, but has since been drowned beyond recognition in shredded meat, hot peppers, and Gaia knows what else hiding under all that cheese sauce – and an enormous lemonade. With two straws, naturally. The couple finds a nice spot along the edge of the walkway and sit down, dangling their legs out over the idyllic blue water. They watch the birds sweep easy arches toward the sea and back up into the sky while they eat.

It's a comfortable sort of quiet. Peaceful. The kind of moment neither of them had known in a long time, if ever, before they found each other. Whisper’s not very talkative anyway, but since losing the original Diamond Cutters, she’s grown used to long stretches of quiet. But that’s a hollow kind of quiet. The kind that feels heavy from what is supposed to be filling it but can’t anymore. Hours, days, weeks left alone with just her thoughts and replays of better times to keep her company. It grew comfortable in the same way being cold for too long makes you start to feel warm. And then there was Tangle. A loud, relentlessly chatty, energetic summer’s day. Thawing out hurt. But now that she’s been warm again, a cool breeze – a moment of close quiet like this – feels good.

Heaven help Tangle if she’s ever been able to let a room stay quiet for more than a minute in her life. Spiral Hill is great, she loves her home, but it’s always been so boriiiiiiing! Just sitting there like a blank canvas begging for a splash of paint to liven it up! For years Tangle’s been the only one holding a paintbrush, bouncing off every wall, filling the sleepy quiet with any adventure she could scrape together from misplaced tools and lone stray badniks. And then she met the Sonic – and because of him, she met Whisper! And sure she was quiet too, but she had all these adventures, and cool battle skills, and a mysterious past! And a painful past. And a good reason to want to stay small and quiet. And Tangle felt so, so guilty for… for a lot of things she messed up with her. And now she kind of got it. How sometimes, it’s just nice to enjoy a moment of quiet for a bit and know it doesn’t need to be filled with noise right now. Because that moment of peace and quiet made a pretty wolf trying to find the mustard stuck on her fur look that unguarded.

But a quiet moment is just that: a moment. Tangle has too much planned to spend the rest of the day sitting on some wood staring at the water – totally just at the water, that’s all she was staring at! She pops back up to her feet.

“Alright! That was delicious, buuuut! I believe we have a date with some games, don’t we?”

“Do we? That’s odd…” Whisper tilts her head.

Tangle’s tail droops. “Do… do we not?”

“It’s just,” Whisper smiles, “I could have sworn my date was with you.”

Tangle snorts. “Okay, very funny.” She reaches down to help Whisper up and bundles their collective lunch trash into a proper container. “Come on, come on, come on! Those booths are callin’ our names, I can hear them from here!”

They hold hands and stroll their way back down the pier. Tangle gestures with her tail to make up for the occupied hand.

“Sooo, how are you at hoops? These things always have a basketball thing, yeah?”

“Why Tangle, are you questioning my aim?” Whisper teases.

“No, I’m questioning your throwing arm.” Tangle teases right back.

“Those sound like fighting words.”

“Well maybe they are! So come on, let’s… rumble?”

They pause, looking around for a source for the rumbling affecting the pier, making the wooden structure shake like an earthquake.

“Move, move, move!!” someone yells.

“WHAT!?” Tangle screeches, seeing the source.

Amy Rose, hammer out, runs full tilt down the walkway while frantically shouting for everyone on it ahead of her to run back to safety. And behind her an absolutely gargantuan orca!? An orca bigger than Tangle even thought they got is crashing through the pier CHASING HER DOWN.

“Tangle! Come on!” Whisper tugs the stunned lemur’s hand, running them both toward safety. She shakes off the shock and also focuses on running. Before long she’s pulling ahead of Whisper and dragging her along at her speed. All the while behind them, Amy swings and smashes at chunks of wooden planks, intercepting them in mid-air from hitting the fleeing carnival-goers.

Once they reach the end of the pier, Tangle and Whisper turn back, with tail and wispon protecting the gathered people from debris so Amy can focus on spinning, winding up, charging up a decisive slam of her hammer into the orca, finally redirecting it away from all the people. They all wait, watching for a surprise second phase… but it seems the danger’s passed for now. Amy twirls on her heel and bounces the hammer up on her shoulder.

“Hey, girls!” she waves.

Whisper slowly lowers her wispon and awkwardly waves back. Tangle’s tail, arms, ears – everything that can droop droops, staring at the floating pile of debris that was, until very recently, the Emerald Coast boardwalk.

“Wha… that… why…” she stammers.

“Oh, that whole thing?” Amy gestures too casually at the wreckage. “Eh, it happens sometimes.”

“WHALES HAPPEN SOMETIMES!?”

“Well, actually orcas are more closely related to dolphins?” Amy taps the hammer handle thoughtfully.

“Oh sweet Gaia.”

“Is that why you were in the area?” Whisper tilts her head.

“What? Oh, no, no – I mean, it’s lucky I was! Or maybe fate? I actually had a little fortune telling booth set up over there, I was giving tarot readings.” Amy pulls a deck of unevenly stacked cards out of her pocket. “But then, you know… orca happened.”

A breeze off the water sends a particularly loose card flying out of the set and away before Amy can drop her hammer and grab it – so it’s Whisper snatching it out of the air. And holding it back out to her. She sighs in relief, more fazed by almost losing a card than being chased by a dock-destroying murder dolphin.

“Oh my goodness, thank you! They’re not really together properly, it’s so hard to gather cards in a hurry! Oh – but as they say! If a card jumps out, it’s trying to tell you something! So let’s see what card jumped at you… Ooh, The Lovers, I adore that one!” Amy looks up from the card at them. She looks like she’s about to say more, but she holds that thought. She looks between Whisper, and just behind her where Tangle is pulling on her own ears in stress.

Amy claps her hands over her mouth with a gasp. “Were you two on a date??”

“Yes, we were just about to play some games. But it, uhm…” Whisper leans to look past Amy at the destruction and the amount of the boardwalk now out of reach. “…I assume the carnival is closing early.”

“But that doesn’t mean the romance train is derailed!” Tangle bursts in, already punching new coordinates – maybe harder than is very nice to the buttons – onto the remote. “We’ve got more stops to go! CHOO CHOO! ROMANCE!” She insists, punching the activation button and opening a new portal.

“Oh! Neat, is that Tails’ newest…” Amy tries.

“DEPARTING NOW! ALL ABOARD!” Tangle calls, sliding Whisper through and following close behind. To the next stop. The next perfect date spot, the next backup of a backup of a backup plan!

Backups of backups of backups become backup-backup-backup-backups, become back-back-back-back-backups, become –

Becomes a beautiful day at the Sunset City Central Park, until Rouge and Omega come crashing through, shrubbery catching on fire from Omega’s thrusters, bag leaking jewelry with guards hot on their tail.

Becomes a cute little café and bakery in Seaside City with delicious sweets, coffee, and tea galore – until Vector crashes through the awning onto their table, Espio and Charmy close behind on some investigation or other – becomes Silver and Blaze rushing up to them, saying something about a timeline-altering event about to happen that-

“NO!!”

Tangle grabs the remote once again, by now starting to feel very warm, and smacks in some more numbers, slams the activation button again, drags Whisper through another portal to another spot where another plan can go all

Wrong. She put in the coordinates wrong. They’re on land at least, barely, popping out on a cliffside overlooking the water once again. Problem is, she has no idea where this is, she doesn’t even know which ocean she’s looking at right now. She chokes down an aggravated screech into more of an angry beep and starts trying to punch in on the remote. But the casing feels so hot, the numbers are flickering on and off the screen as she tries to type them. Finally with an anticlimactic pop, the little fox-faced remote fizzles out.

Tangle stares at it. She tries to push the buttons. It does nothing. She tries to turn it off and back on again. It does nothing. It does nothing, it does nothing, it does nothing, it

Her hands shake. Her grip threatens to crack the plastic casing – as if she could make it any less functional. Her vision gets blurry. She can’t think of anything else to do, so she spikes the remote to the ground and collapses. She curls tight in on herself, wrapping her tail around her like a cocoon.

Stupid – how could she be so stupid! All this work to try and impress Whisper, to try and do something right for her, just this one time to think ahead – to look before she leaps so she doesn’t make a mess of things – and where did it get her? Where did it get both of them!? Stranded Gaia-knows-where. And it’s all her fault. It keeps being all her own fault.

“Tangle?”

She can’t summon up an answer. Apologizing again feels so hollow. She doesn’t have an excuse for this.

Whisper, softly as her name implies, steps closer. She looks over the tight coil of fur, staggered by the intensity of it all. Her hand stutters in the air between them, wanting to reach for Tangle but… not sure if she should. Not sure how to handle this at all. She knows Tangle wears her heart on her sleeve and feels everything so fully – it’s one of the things she loves most about her. But she’s seen her unbridled joy, her righteous fury, her seemingly boundless excitement over everything. She’s even, on rare occasion, seen her slammed-brake brand of hesitation, of doubt.

She’s never known her to break like this.

So she does what Tangle would. She pushes forward, running her hand softly, hopefully comfortingly, across the tail enveloping her.

“Tangle, what’s wrong?” she tries, a little louder.

“…I broke it…” Tangle sniffles.

“No,” Whisper gently corrects, settling to the ground next to her, shoulder to tail. “I don’t mean what happened to the remote. I mean… I didn’t know how to say it earlier. You’ve been on edge all day.”

She nestles in closer and rests her cheek against Tangle’s tail.

“You’ve been so jumpy. You’re running away from fighting alongside our friends. Even if they don’t need us for these little things, that’s not like you. Even now – we both know you hate small spaces like that, you can’t feel better wrapping yourself up like this. Tangle, did something happen?”

She slides her fingers between the coils as if she could pry them open and free Tangle from her self-imposed cage. She presses her forehead into the fur.

“You’re always there for me when there’s too much for me to handle on my own. From the moment we met, you’ve never let me face a battle alone. Please. Whatever happened, whatever hurt you – we’ll face it together.”

Tangle’s tail loosens. The loops gradually slipping, melting off of her into a limp, pathetic nest. She looks to Whisper with big, teary eyes and a hiccuped sob. She tips over, dropping her head into Whisper’s waiting shoulder to be hugged.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles wetly, “I messed it all up, I’m sorry.”

Whisper shushes her and rubs the back of her head. “It was an accident. Everyone said that remote was new, right? How would you know that would-“

“No, no, no! I mean – yeah, I broke the remote too – but it’s not just the remote, it’s the whole rotten thing!” Tangle sits back. “I picked all those stupid places, and every single one of them went wrong! I just wanted to give you one perfect day – no fights, no stakes – just one day where you could relax and have fun and not have to worry about anything! You deserve so much more than that, but I messed it up again!”

“What?” Whisper reaches for Tangle’s cheek. “Again?”

“Yeah, again! After everything you went through before, you still trusted me – and what did I do with that? I got got by the zombots and made you go through all that again!”

“You didn’t mean to – you didn’t even know back then.”

“And then when you were dealing with Mimic I let him trick me – twice! In one day! And when he came back again I didn’t have your back, I let him pull one over on me again instead of listening to you! I took the Diamond Cutter name without asking you first – I keep pushing you and messing things up for you, and not thinking and getting you hurt, and you deserve better than any of it – you deserve better than you’ve gotten – you deserve better than me!”

“Tangle!”

Whisper cups Tangle’s face, wet with tears, and makes her look at her. She thumbs across her cheeks to wipe some of it away.

“Tangle, I don’t care about any of that. I don’t blame you for half of that stuff, and the things I was mad at you for, I already forgave you. And I’ve been having a lot of fun today. I’ve just been worried about you. I’ve been worried about you being so stressed because I love you. And I want you to be okay too.” She presses their foreheads together. “We’ve both made our mistakes. And I think we’re going to make more. But I trust you. Whether I wanted to or not, I trust you. So I trust that whatever else happens, we’ll get through it together. That’s all I could want from you.”

Tangle sniffles. She wraps her hand around Whisper’s on her cheek and closes her eyes, leaning into the embrace.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect…” Whisper breathes, “…it just needs to be us.”

Her hands fall off Tangle’s face as the lemur lurches forward and pulls her into a tight embrace. Tangle’s tail wraps behind her to catch them from completely falling into the grass, giving them a soft place to sit and melt into each other’s grip. Even once they relax back into a less overwhelmed cuddle, it serves as a nice cushion for them to look out over the water and finally take in the view they stumbled into. Wherever they are, it’s evening here, as the sun is setting in just the right way to paint the clouds vibrant oranges and pinks and the sea the kind of almost purple-ish color they talk about in old poetry.

With a crackle and a pop, Tails' voice calls out to them. "Tangle? Whisper? Are you guys still together?"

Tangle grabs the remote the voice is coming from. "Of course we're still together!" she cries back at it, gripping it tightly in both hands, "It didn't go that badly!!"

"Oh good!" Tails gives a staticy, compressed sigh of relief. "When I got a critical error message from the MOVE System, I was worried. But it put you both in the same place, that's good!"

"Oh! Yeah!" Tangle sweats. "Yep, physical proximity! We're sure in the same location in space, yep, no worries!"

Whisper snickers behind her mask.

"Okay, great! I'm going to triangulate the distress signal from your remote off the other Tails-tech around - I'll come get you in the Tornado as soon as I can!"

Tangle and Whisper look at each other for a moment. Whisper gives her a soft, encouraging smile. Tangle grins back and lifts the remote.

“Take your time, Tails.”

Tangle settles back, pulling her tail a little closer around the two of them.

“We’ll be alright.”

[necrotic-nephilim]

bro come back we need your commentary more than ever. Jayhelena canon event

AHAHAHA I'VE BEEN LOSING MY MIND FOR DAYS ANON HOW'D YOU KNOW. perfect moment to show off the shitty meme i made based off a random message i sent in a discord server a couple of weeks ago.

jokes aside: i do have a LOT of thoughts on all of this, and even more thoughts on the reaction to it so ty for giving me the chance to rant.

as far as the comic itself goes: i am? cautiously optimistic, personally? hopes are high but expectations are grounded. Gretchen Felker-Martin is a *fantastic* trans horror writer (i highly rec her novel, Manhunt) but she's pretty new to the comics scene. she's written a single issue with Jason, a Beast World story that's pretty polarizing. most fans i know dislike it, my personal opinions on it are... it's a bit lackluster? i think some parts of it miss the mark on Jason's psyche, but the overall theme it's trying to convey about cycles of violence enacted on victims like Jason and police brutality are interesting. while it's not a great start for GFM with Jason, the Beast World event was so shit overall, and the whole concept of all these characters being "not themselves" mentally, i'm willing to overlook it. (idk if there are any good BW stories but all the ones i've read are shite... Helena's BW story has her literally being beaten by Cass using a laser pointer on her so... i will take *anything* over that personally lmao at least GFM seems genuinely interested in exploring Jason's inner workings, yk) it could go really well, or really poorly. i don't think we have enough info on GFM's writing to know how she'll handle an ongoing with these two, but my fingers are desperately crossed.

the main concerns i have about the comic are firstly the plot itself: which is described as Jason tracking down a cop-killer, and how that could so easily become copaganda. however, the Beast World issue GFM wrote was incredibly anti-cop. (and she even said on her bluesky that ppl shouldn't be worried about this run being pro-cop) so, i do think there's hope there. my other worry is the history of these characters GFM can't control- this story is happening right after H2SH which is frankly, a fucking disaster for Jason. and Helena's biggest Rebirth feature was Batgirl & the Birds of Prey, which was an even bigger disaster for her mythos. neither of these characters are standing on great foundations, and i haven't cared for either of their current characterizations for the past decade or so. it's an uphill battle for even a fantastic writer to try to meld good characterization with the current state of these two, and i could see it screwing GFM over, which rlly sucks she's not getting as fair of a shot as she could be.

all that said, the aesthetics look fantastic (tho, i'm not personally the biggest fan of either suit redesign) and i do love getting Helena and Jason out of Gotham, bc it means we won't have the everlooming Bat presence hanging over their actions. and as for the romance? i'm CACKLING. i've *always* suspected that if we ever were lucky enough for a Jason/Helena team-up, they were bound to end up fucking, and i'm DELIGHTED to be vindicated. this ship is one i do adore in concept (mostly as a hatefuck sort of thing) but could see go horribly. i trust GFM to write women, so i don't think Helena's going to get sidelined as a one-dimensional love interest, which is the biggest fear i've seen expressed. it's not *entirely* unlikely she'll be OOC (i don't think we know enough to comment either way atp, given GFM has never written her) but i do think she's going to be dynamic in this run. and honestly? with the shit content Jason has been getting recently (Robin Lives, the current fuckass Jaybin comic) and Helena having her backstory mutiliated and getting sidelined to hell as current comics don't seem to know what to do with her, i want this to go well *so* badly. i'm rlly hoping it will! and i do think the romance can absolutely work in a fun and interesting way. wouldn't be my top canon pick for either character, but i love the intrigue of it and how these two could (and hopefully are going to) challenge each other and find solidarity in their respective victimhoods.

that said, i certainly don't begrudge Helena fans for being pessimistic about this comic, or disliking the concept in principle. i'd far prefer Helena be getting a solo than be a supporting cast/love interest for a man's run. that said, i think calling this run a "power fantasy" and "wank content" (takes i have seen) is absolutely asinine. we don't have it in our hands yet, we literally can't say until it's out. (and tbfh- these takes are transphobic against GFM, even if unintentionally.) but at this point, i think anything is something for Helena, and i am not going to insult the concept until i've seen the story. if Helena fans don't want to read this bc they don't like Jason or just don't want to see her sidelined, i get that entirely.

beyond that, the take i am *not* a fan of is that this is bad bc Helena has been Dick's love interest. anyone who says *that* loses all validity to their argument for me. Helena has been a dynamic character long before she met Dick and to *only* view her as an extension of Dick and thus define every future relationship she has through Dick is the most ass backwards misogyny i've seen. also. it's comics, man. everyone's going to team up with everyone and fuck everyone. it's just the nature of these characters getting used over and over and over. it's so wildly degrading to Helena to pretend you're protecting her dignity and honor by not wanting her around Jason, or by treating her as just "Dick's love interest". (when she and Dick never properly even *dated* and have never been right for each other. that was sort of the whole point. but i digress.) i also think some takes from Helena stans about Jason are made in incredibly bad faith, just because some Helena stans find some sort of superiority complex in liking her and hating him. it has always read incredibly performative to me.

in summary: i have been deserpate for *years* for these two to interact, and i'm genuinely looking forward to reading this comic. i have reasons to be a little doubtful of some issues that *might* come up, but GFM is a great novelist and i hope that translates to her ability to write a great ongoing. did i ever *actually* want this ship to go canon? no, but under a queer woman whose pretty solid at exploring intersectionality and leftist politics in her works, i'm willing to hear it out.

and just so we're clear: the *second* this comic is out i'm putting the Robles variant cover where Jason and Helena are almost kissing straight on my wall. even if the comic is shit. i'm forever immortalizing it as a giant win for me personally, one of the few ppl capable of liking Jason Todd and Helena Bertinelli at the same time and being cool with the idea of them kissing, lol.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

no please bc just once I wanna make hobie nervous flustered.. like why can’t he can’t be intimated by me why I always gotta be intimidated by him 🙄🙄

TRULLLYY The opportunities are endless!! Let's talk about it!!!!!!!!!!!

Hobie Brown Loves Feminists and Defying the Patriarchy aka Hobie Brown and Writing write Non-Conventional Romantic Relationships in 'x-readers'

[this is an analysis where I analyze Hobie Brown, non-conventional relationships, and how feminism factors in to it all. Basically a critique/dive/rant into the narrow 'x-reader culture' in the Hobie Fandom

I touch on issues in Smut, labels, and how we can write 'Y/N's that challenge that status quo and fit Hobie better. I also break down how I personally use feminist themes to write a non-conventional relationship for Hobie.] [Also there's now a PART 2 HERE]

Despite the man from the 1970's - the era of bra-burning second-wave feminism - I don't ever think I've seen anyone talk about it, him, and how it influences him.

We all know Hobie isn't down with labels, but it seems like in X-Fem!Reader, the only two options out there are play-boy guitarist and traditional out-of-the-box boyfriend.

Hobie. The man he follows no social quo. Don't expect flowers from him.

Hobie diverges from the norm in nearly every way, and he does it purposefully and intentionally. And I think that'd extend to his romantic relationships too.

So why do we only see him in heteronormative, traditional gender-role based relationships?

Would Hobie be into this? And does the way we write him and his relationships in x-writers serve Hobie emotionally, allowing him to be a full character? (No, they don't.)

How can begin to acknowledge that, just like Hobie cares about race, and class, and housing and queer rights - he'd care about feminism too.

And how would that influence him in romance? How can we start writing healthier x-reader's?

We have enough insecure, blushing 'Y/N's being woo'd by [insert tumblr sexy man]'. Hobie can have so much more - in the words of Beyonce "Where the ladies up in here who like to talk back?!"

Hobie Brown, Romance, and Gender Roles

Why can I be the one calling him 'love', and 'darling', and 'sweetheart'?

Where's the fic where I'm the one comforting and taking care of him when he's sick/down?

Why can't Hobie be the one asked to be held?

There's something lacking here!!!!!!!

I honestly think Hobie would be into it, and find it very attractive - having a feminine partner who defies gender roles in their relationship purposefully and proudly.

Hobie loves subverting expectations and challenging society. So, and seeing many people unthinkingly assume he'd have a completely normal, routine heterosexual relationship without question -- uhhh I don't like that!!!

Like, Hobie is very clearly attractive. He's like 6'5", a guitarist, and punk. Let's be real, people of any gender are gonna be flirting with him, whether he's into it or not. He without a doubt gets flirted at all the time.

I think he'd love someone who cuts the bullshit and is like "You're really cute. I've got the biggest crush on you."

Not in a pushy way, but a relaxed way.

But I hardly ever see the x-reader advances being initiated by the reader. Why? It can be really nice to take the confidence to ask someone out and they say yes.

In fact, a lot of x-readers are written demure, passive, and down-right unhealthy in their ability to defend themselves and stand alone. So many are based off the x reader needing Hobie for some reason, whether it be confidence, or protection, or for him to teach them something.

Never Hobie needing the reader for something. Never Hobie being the one to express emotion and need comfort.

Which is funny, because Hobie can show emotions like anger, which he does in the comics. That's NEVER brought up in fics. In no fic do we have the reader witness Hobie hitting someone with a guitar or kicking them in the face. Which Hobie does do.

No, that's too violent for the romanticized fandom of Hobie. He has to be the good boyfriend to the shy girlfriend.

And I feel like there's a reason many of these x-readers are written this way - is heteronormativity and a dash of misogyny-flavored sexism involved??? maybe.

Especially with x fem readers, feminine people are always expected to be passive and submissive. Women in the real world are expected to mute their advances and 'be coy' for the sake of sexist 'respectability'.

We're taught that 'giving them the eyes' is (somehow??) an 'advance'. Or that you have to wait to be asked out or else you're 'too forward'.

[Insert Barbie Movie Monologue here]

Personally, I think Hobie would be SO refreshed by a girl who comes up to him and is like "Hey, are you busy on Friday? Do you wanna meet me then? I wanna go on a date with you."

Because, realistically 95% of the people in the Hobie fandom - including me - would probably be too nervous to even speak a sentence to Hobie.

So for someone to approach him directly, state their intentions, and be so open to potential rejection, that's impressive - I think he'd LOVE that shit!!!

I think it's a nice juxtaposition to have him with someone who diverges from the 'demure ideal of a girlfriend'.

A girl who walks around like Jessica Drew. Walks in the room like "My man is SEXY AF and he about to walk in so LOOK. BE JEALOUS."

I imagine so many people around him try to act like they DON'T like Hobie when they clearly do - and he can tell. So to have someone who isn't hiding it is a kind of candidness that differs from it all.

So often are women forced into the passive role of waiting to be 'chosen'. Fuck that, you want him, go get him.

Hobie, Romance, and Labels

I also think Hobie would REALLY like a partner who knows what they want.

I always see people be like 'Hobie doesn't like labels!! He wants to keep it casual!' or 'Nooo he was kidding about the labels thing - he'd love a committe-'

WHO SAYS HE'D BE THE ONE DEFINING THE SITUATION????????? WHO SAID HE GETS THE LAST SAY???!!!!!

I feel like Hobie would go fucking NUTS for a girl who is straight up like "yeah I'm just trying to fuck. Are you okay with that?" or "I like what we've got going on. I'm not looking for anything serious, but let's keep going."

Or a partner that is very clear about their labels. A person who's like "I like you but if you're not trying to be exclusive I'm gonna get a move on." Because he's not gonna have you out here looking DUMB, people better know you're in the mfing picture.

That's some grown ass shit! It shows she knows what she wants and that she's not wavering on it, even for him. He's with it. I don't think Hobie would be down to be like "I'm ur boyfriend now" OR "I'm ONLY down for fucking lol srry'.

She gets a say too. And she should be clear on what she wants.

If she's the one to take the initiative and name the game - that's great for him. He's down for whatever, what is it that YOU wanna do??

Hobie, Romance, and Intimacy (like for the grown folks 18+) __________________________________

🔞

In a LOT of fic and especially SMUT, it's always Hobie making the advances, or at least initiating them. In society, women are taught that's how is, that being sexually 'aggressive' and proactive - not just SUGGESTIVE - is inappropriate.

Wait till Hobie slaps your ass, then the smut could start. Wait till Hobie kisses you, then there's romance.

Nah, I'm the one smacking his ass. I'm the one pulling his belt loop saying Come 'ere. What if I'm the one who wants to pull him down for a first kiss, huh??? I gotta wait??

Even in dialogue-

In a lot of fics Hobie can talk as raunchy as ever, but the woman can't say 'pussy'? Hobie can say three sentences straight about how my coochie feel but the reader only gets to moan submissive requests back??

Can the dirty talk be two-sided? Because women should be allowed to be vocal in their pleasure.

Hobie can tell you he wants you to suck his dick, but when's the reader gonna say "Come eat this pussy like you mean it." HM??????

In fics the reader can only be suggestive - in order to bait him into initiating, like sending him a suggestive picture or throwing a bra on stage. But it's hardly ever the other way around. With the reader being the one to say 'Enough of the teasing, we fucking NEOW.'

Because in our society, a guy slipping a girl's shirt off to get the scene going is hot. But a woman going for a guys belt before he begins to undress her - nooo, that's too forward.

Maybe Hobie wants to feel like the sexy, desired, sought after one.

_______________________________________________

Hobie, Romance and Feminism

Let it be known: Hobie loves people who are socially educated!!!!

If you can look at him and explain what anarchism actually is - like in a politcal theory sense - I think he'd be impressed, because you're seeing through the 'pseudo-rockstar' persona he puts on.

Most if not all of his actions are choice are driven by political action, so having a partner educated in things like anarchy or communism just makes sense with him. Hobie cares about stuff like that, and actually goes out of his way to study and live in line with those ideals.

That includes feminism!!!

I think Hobie would love a girlfriend who is invested in feminism, cares about it, and thinks about it in her decision making.

A woman that is educated about her oppression and how to combat it, and purposefully goes against the strict stereotype labeled on women - especially feminine women - as an act of protest.

A girl who can and will defend herself, go off on, or put a sexist pig in their place. You can't tell me he wouldn't be into that.

Social movements of the oppressed are super important to Hobie, and I think feminism is the same, but I never see it mentioned.

I definitely think that Hobie would have a clear understanding of his privilege as a man and how that effects relationships.

I can see him being like "I'd never propose." Not because he hates labels, but because he acknowledges that for centuries marriage was used as a financial and social transaction to oppress and control women and their bodies, and he doesn't want to be involved in that.

Hit him with that "Same - the gold and diamond rings are trash anyway. Both materials being mined and pillaged in African nations for centuries at the expense of the indigenous populations really puts me off it."

He'd wanna somehow find a way to marry you without marrying you you know what i mean

Hobie loves feminism and feminists. Give him a 70's bra-burning feminism so help me god. He was alive for Roe v. Wade passing (1973), he KNOWS about feminism and probably knows many outspoken feminists.

Hobie, Romance and Individuality

You know what I don't like?

Headcanons or fics that be like "You and Hobie NEVER disagree or argue. Never ever, you always talk it out."

Like...Bullshit. I'm sorry but I don't think it's very realistic.

Hobie is a very opinionated too. He's very outspoken and when it comes to topics, and he usually knows exactly where he stands. I think, without a doubt he'd care what his partner thinks too.

Asking them about a record that's playing, or what they think of a movie they saw in the past, or a new political issue going on. He'd absolutely ask, because he cares. He's interested.

If if ya'll are never disagreeing that means:

Either you agree with his opinion all the time without fail or exception OR

You're biting your tongue around him

I don't think one is very realistic in terms of things. You can't like every song your boyfriend likes. You can't like every movie he shows you, or agree on EVERY political issue. That's not how people are.

And for two - if you're biting your tongue around him, he'll notice.

Yes, Hobie is a very emotionally intelligent person and extremely compassionate. But he's also very strong in his morals, thoughts, and beliefs. He doesn't budge.

If you're biting your tongue, I'd imagine he'd be like "You wanna say something." or "Whatever you're thinking just say it." cause he can see it in your face.

He's not trying to put you on the spot, he just wants to know what you're thinking.

When you explain what you're thinking, he's probably gonna wanna hear why, and respond, etc etc.

Hobie is a very individualistic person, and I think he'd be drawn to someone who is as well. Someone who is solid in their opinions and personhood enough to express them.

It leads to interesting conversation and knowing each other deeper -It's a form of intimacy.

If you watch a film with him and don't like it, he's gonna ask why. Did you not like the theme? Was the dialogue bad? What part did you think sucked the most, he thought x, y, z. What do you think about the part he disliked, did you notice a,b,c?

I feel like Hobie would want to know his partner deeply, and he'd care and love the things that make them different from each other.

Including differing opinions.

Discussions and debates aren't bad. Discussing something and getting heated defending your point can be really fun and stimulating, if it's with someone you care about and the two parties are mature and not assholes.

Tell him why you think he's wrong about something - he wants an excuse to talk more about his opinion. INTELLECTUALLY CHALLENGE HIM DONT JUST AGREE.

Along with being very individualistic, Hobie is very independent. He refused to rely on the Society for their watches - he made his own. So I think the next important thing to him is:

Hobie, Romance and Independence

I like the idea of Hobie having a partner that has their own place and is committed to that, and their space.

Or a partner that emotionally supports him!!

95% of the time, he's the one asking what's wrong, or holding reader, or comforting them.

Can we get hectic bf and organized girlfriend energy?? A gf where he says plans during missions and she's like "What are you thinking? You're gonna get us killed."

A gf that soothes HIM when he gets angry - cause comic Hobie GETS angry, especially after a fight.

Give me ONE, ONE fic where he's drunk coming from a pub and READER has to deal with drunk Hobie and put him to bed.

Hobie is ALWAYS expected to take care of himself, and the people around him. He takes pride in this and he's good at it. But why should he have to do it all the time?

_____________________________________________

In general,

Hobie is a confident person. He knows what he wants, and how to handle himself, and how to approach people and get respect just by being himself. He's assured, and outspoken, and VERY independent. He does what he wants, when he wants and lets you know when it happens

I think pairing him with a confident, assured, outspoked, independent person is only natural. I think him having a relationship with a personality like his would be a ROCK SOLID one.

There's be no fics like 'Groupies were bullying you' because his she would be like "Sis, if I swing on you he isn't gonna hold me back so be careful."

I want a reader that when they do that trope of 'A girl was flirting in front of him making you insecure and uncomfortable' - The reader squashes it right there. Like "Girl, I know you see me standing here. You know we're together. Cut the cute shit!!"

I'm tired of fics taking me for an insecure, submissive, demure, sexually innocent, wimp of a babydoll girlfriend that needs to be babied at every turn. There's nothing wrong with being shy and demure, but when it's all you're offering it's not gonna cut it.

Especially not for Hobie Brown.

Let the tall, dark, actively oppressed black man be the one to vent, or be held, or romanced, and spoken sweetly too. There's so many comfort fics, but not many of them consider Hobie's own trauma - and how a relationship could include that.

Hobie Brown deserves more.

_______________________________________________

If you wanna know how I use this to write a non-conventional relationship for Hobie, that's below this break.

Okay so I'mma leave it here but if you read this far, thank you!!!! I be SO pissed when fics be talking me (Y/N) as a punk (in the wimpy sense not the Hobie sense). Like...nah I wouldve said something in a lot of situations. Irk my last nerve. Like the one where the girl PINCHES you??? Like?? Nah I we would've been fighting, I'm sorry this is unrealistic

Alsooo the section below is about my Spidersona Disco-Spider and how I encorporated all of this into her creation- because I wanted to write a sona who subtly defied gender roles while still being feminine. So if you wanna read there thank you so much, and if not, thanks for reading this far! He's a pic of Hobie in thanks!

[If you wanna check out Part 2 for direct examples, how to write NCRs, and a more in depth look into Disco and Hobie - check it out here]

_______________________________________________

DiscoSpider Diane and The Great Groupie Act [How I use all of this to a write a feminist Spidersona and a non-conventional relationship]

Diane is a HUGE Hobie Groupie - and that's kinda of her main thing.

She runs the Hobie Brown Fanclub on campus, attends all his shows, and wears his guitar pick. She's into him and she's not afraid to show it.

I wanted to write Diane as a purposeful groupie, one who is fine with the title, and even leans into it. Because a lot of the time - and in a lot of fics including guitarists - 'groupie' is seen as a negative thing.

Like K-pop stans, being a 'groupie' - and openly expressing your romantic interest in a hot guy is seen as desperation.

But I wanted to write her as one in spite of this. To swap 'desperation' for unwavering boldness. A girl with the motto 'Closed mouths don't get fed'.

And much like Hobie uses the 'typical punk' label to disarm others, I wanted Diane to mirror that - in the opposite direction.

Diane is a self-proclaimed groupie. And because of that, many (mainly misogynists) assume that she can't think for herself - or at all. And Diane can use that to her advantage.

If Miguel and Jess really believe she only cares about conversations involving Hobie, then they'll talk like she isn't there. And she can listen. If it looks like she's hanging all over him, no one realizes if she's slipping him information.

And it also helps in their relationship.

They both enjoy their privacy.

HQ prohibits relationships between Spidey-people. It's an anomaly waiting to happen - and they make sure to keep a close eye out for it. Plus with Jess breathing down her neck, it's much easier for Diane and Hobie to just keep it underwraps.

In comes the Groupie persona.

No one actually expects the groupie to get the guy. She's desperate, and he's the player guitarist. Plus, if they were dating she couldn't be a 'groupie' right? They wouldn't make sense, would it?

They let people make their own assumptions. By calling herself a groupie, suddenly people think there's no possible way there's something going on, and they don't look closer.

This also allows them the freedom of no labels. Are they boyfriend and girlfriend? Nah she's his groupie. Quit asking questions.

All of this allows me to write Disco in a way that connects back to everything in this post.

By calling herself a 'Groupie' suddenly Diane can subvert expectations of affection, avoid the pressures of labels, and control her image and the amount of information she lets on to people

That in turn helps me write their relationship in a nonconventional way - a way that challenges misogyny around affection and reclaims a sexist fan trope for something more empowering.

Sure, the concept seems silly at first. The ditsy, bubbly, party girl on campus, but I wanted there to be a reason and drive behind it.

Disco-Spider Diane is exactly who she wants to be, an unapologetic, outspoken disco-girl. One that's highly educated and knows her shit.

And also a huge groupie.

-----------------------------------------------

If you've read this far, thank you so much. It genuinely means a lot to me! This is reaaaaaallly long.

[Part 2 here]

Now how about you take this photo of Hobie and we both pretend like me writing this is normal well-adjusted behavior okay? okay

Bye.

[thetriggeredhappy]

I know we’re on spoiler lock down and you can respond at your pace but OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD THIS IS HANDS DOWN THE BEST BIRTHDAY GIFT IVE EVER GOTTEN! HOW IS THIS GOING TO EFFECT YOUR TAKING SHOTS CANON? ARE YOU GOING TO BE WRITING OTHER FICS IN LINE WITH THE FINALE CANON NOW???? Oh my god HOW ARE YOU FEELING?????

yeah i know right! this does mean i’m going to need to go back and edit taking shots a bit to be more canon-compliant, here’s some of my initial notes on it:

fixing scout’s last name to reflect “willis”.

fixing spy’s first and last name to reflect “eugene hinkle”.

adjusting to make room in dialogue for scout being definitively a brunette, as we saw near the end.

a few tweaks to better fill in the implications the comics seem to have for how the respawn system works.

in the same shot we saw the photo of scout and his mom, opposite that we see a picture that i believe is of scout and a doggy—i’ll need to add that into the story somewhere, maybe from his brothers telling a story or something similar.

already word on the street is that some of his kids seem close enough in age to probably be twins, which actually does imply that it’s likely some of his brothers are twins! this is good, but i should really lean in more—maybe more of his nieces are twins?

”willis” is an english name, so i’ll need to slightly adjust some backstory to make them english-catholic or perhaps protestant, not irish-catholic.

obviously i’ll need to adjust to include the address of the house and a better approximate location, as well as adjust all timings mentioned to account for the correct distance and travel times.

scout seems to be big on rushing into marriages, so i’ll most likely need to rework the fic slightly to include a proposal within the first chapter or two.

since sniper knows how to fly a plane, it makes sense that they would probably just fly to boston rather than road-tripping, which means i’ll need to edit out most instances of driving that sniper does.

obviously, spy hadn’t come clean about being scout’s father, so i imagine that he probably never will, and instead that entire storyline will pivot, instead being about something else, perhaps that spy wants to romance and marry his ma, who he met some five or six years previously.

since there is apparently some kind of indoor public pool in the area they live in, all scenes outside of the home will be moved to take place in that pool.

it seems like sniper’s reaction to scout’s rambling to miss pauling about his courting would imply he is aware of scout’s crush, so the story and dialogue will be altered to instead have sniper suggest they be a throuple of some kind. this will lead to complications in which Benny and Terry are irritated that they’re being copied so blatantly.

speaking of which, scout gave two of his kids names that start with “t”, which to me implies they perhaps have some kind of naming convention in their family involving repeating first consonants. to reflect this, some of scout’s brothers will be renamed, meaning his brothers (oldest to youngest) will be named Jack, Jenry, Jarcher (Jarchie for short), Jolin, Jenjamin and Jerrence (Jenny and Jerry for short), and Jony.

while going over these changes, i realized that i’d completely forgotten to account for spy’s cyanide tooth, and written a moment where he’s gritting his teeth. unfortunately, that means that in my rewrite, spy will need to die during that scene when the cyanide tooth most certainly pops mistakenly. this will be inconvenient, but a gifted writer knows how to play with the cards dealt.

since unfortunately we now know that scout is terrible at marriage, i will most likely need to write a scene where scout finds out he is pregnant and sniper immediately leaves him. i find this difficult because i’m unsure how sniper will be able to get into a plane quickly enough to escape in the pre-established suburb, but i will make do.

i will have to kill scout’s mom.

oh and happy belated birthday!

[genericpuff]

Ive read a few of your LO esaays (all of which are really well written!) But I was wondering something.

Many people talk about how Rachel loves the story Lolita, and has talked about it before, but nobody has ever shown screenshots. I was wondering if you had any or knew where to find any. This is just being curious, not doubting your statements

Ah so I actually responded to a comment just like this a while back on reddit with all the receipts (it was particularly someone who was claiming it was all "made up" because like you, they couldn't seem to get any proof of it, which is totally valid) so I just had to go and dig those back up haha

DISCLAIMER: I want to make it clear that a lot of people tend to run amok with these suspicious pieces of evidence towards Rachel either "thinking Lolita was a romance" or being a pedophile. I want to make it clear that I do not think any of this is proof towards either of these claims. I do not think that she blatantly thinks Lolita is a romance, or that she was trying to perpetuate pedophilia in any sort of way, just that she may have wanted to have her cake and eat it too by acknowledging the age gap but embracing it anyways as she does throughout LO. I think, at best, she's a terrible writer who's still using the things she liked when she was a teenager / young adult as inspiration without actually going back and re-analyzing those things with an updated 38-year-old viewpoint (as she does this with a lot of things, not just Lolita). Claiming that the following receipts is 'proof' of Rachel being some kind of sex pest / pedophile is at best not constructive at all for the real discussions to be had concerning LO's subtext, and at worst, a serious claim that can ruin someone's life if thrown around without cause. Let's please be responsible and level-headed in how we approach this topic.

Old MySpace + DeviantArt bios with her interests listed:

Her old art site where she labels herself as a "lolita vamp" artist:

Her intro post from a lolita-themed forum she ran:

She does express that it's not THAT kind of lolita, which I'd like to think she never intended in the first place, but it's really telling that LO still manages to be that kind of lolita in a lot of ways, to the point that there are many scenes in LO that feel a little too similar to scenes from the 1990's Jeremy Irons adaptation, such as seen here.

(the above image are song lyrics written about the book, Lolita)

Also despite Rachel saying it wasn't "that kind" of lolita, she still made it clear back in the 2017/2018 run of the comic on Tumblr that Hades is, indeed, a "grown ass man", and that Persephone is a teenager.

And of course the proof is in the pudding, the comic itself is well aware of Persephone's age:

(either Rachel has been using Apollo as a mouthpiece for criticism for years, or she seriously thought this was supposed to make Hades look like the better partner for Persephone because "look at how mean Apollo is" when... he's deadass spitting facts LOL)

As I mentioned in my disclaimer, I don't think Rachel herself is in any way a sex pest or a pedo or whatever you might jump to assuming. Rachel has a history of being inspired by things she watched when she was a child without ever actually going back to re-analyze it or ask herself if what she read was credible or real-

(this isn't the only proof there is of her behaving this way, there's also the fact that she was clearly a huge Disney fan as a child but never asked herself why those movies worked as a piece of written media).

So again, I think at best she's just sort of dated herself by not going to the effort of researching the things she was into when she was a child, she tends to just throw things in that she likes haphazardly without a single thought as to why they worked in the first place or whether or not they would work in LO. Though this is a bit of a saltier opinion, I think when it comes to the Lolita thing specifically, I have a feeling she never actually read the book, just sorta did that thing where she watched the movie adaptation from the 90's and assumed that counted as reading the book and so she put it down as her favorite book / Nabokov as her favorite writer.

But none of that speculation really makes much difference because the evidence is 20+ years old. What does matter is that despite her tastes being what they were 20+ years ago, they're still present in LO and it's not even subtle, there are so many times Rachel has outright said both within the comic and outside of it that Hades is a "grown ass man" and Persephone is a literal teenager. Her fans, of course, will still go to the effort of explaining it on her behalf ("they're gods! ageing isn't a thing for them!" "how old you are doesn't matter when you can be immortal!" "well she probably doesn't mean LITERALLY 19, just like, the god version of it..."), but you can't deny what's coming from the horse's mouth - Hades and Persephone are in a relationship based on an intentionally massive age gap. Regardless of what completely speculative parallels we can draw between H x P and that of Lolita's Humbert Humbert and Dolores using 20 year old MySpace bios as evidence, Hades and Persephone having a massive and intentional age gap is undeniable fact made canon by the creator herself, no matter how you try and slice it.

[comicslina]

HELLO, FRENS. Let's talk!!

Note: This is primarily for Jason fans, but some of it applies to Helena's fans, too. So pay attention. Please.

(So far I've completely avoided using the Helena tags on Tumblr out of respect, and I haven't even LOOKED because I know most of the posts from the past week would make a geiger counter scream.)

tl;dr- We FINALLY have a writer for Jason who can or might want to write him how we've been begging for all this time. Fellow fans and hyperfixaters, we must NOT fuck this up for ourselves.

Already, according to the writer's social media: "Comics people are so interesting. I've had hundreds of them ask me if I'm going to do a bad job writing these characters, like maybe I'm some kind of literary demon out to ruin their lives."

If you've been doing this, STOP. APOLOGIZE. You will METAPHORICALLY SEND FLOWERS. 🔪

Fiction is important, but real life breathing people are MORE important.

Let us be a fandom people WANT to write for.

You have fears, you have questions, doubts. You want to quiz the author on her values and knowledge. We have been burned for YEARS by writing that makes our fave look stupid and perpetuates crappy narratives. Haters abound, writers don't care about him and his fans, and now we have a new book announced that's promising us everything we've been wanting and everyone is screaming because we scared.

CHILL for a minute.

IF you reach out to the author- which you should think twice, maybe thrice about, maybe don't do it at all- you will be RESPECTFUL. You will be POLITE. You will not SPAM or FLAME or MAKE DEMANDS. You will be a MODEL FAN.

We will become THE BEST FUCKING FANDOM TO WRITE FOR, and give this writer THE MOST PLEASANT FUCKING FANDOM EXPERIENCE IN THE HISTORY OF COMIC BOOK FANDOM BULLSHIT.

You will understand that NOT EVERYONE WANTS THE SAME THING for Jason and Helena, and that is okay. We all have perfect versions of these characters in our heads. It's why we have fanfiction. Jason's fandom in particular has built several competing Platonic Ideals of Jason Todd in our heads, and we get pissed each time DC fails to approach even one of them.

But that might actually change. We might get CLOSER.

"But its pro-cop-"

The author is vocally ACAB.

"Helena deserves better she's being treated like an object-"

The author is a TRANS WOMAN who is VOCALLY FEMINIST and LEFTIST. It might be Jason's book, but this author is FAR more likely to treat her with respect than, say, fucking LOBDELL. We don't even know what Jason and Helena's relationship is going to look like. That cover might have nothing to do with it. Covers do that. I am personally down for it if it's done well, but I'm a horny bitch.

And being trans means she has been Through Some Shit, so she probably gets it. (Whys and hows of Jason and Helena's trauma.)

"The Huntress and Red Hood fandoms hate eachother-"

Grow up. What are you, 6? People like the characters they like for myriad reasons. I imprinted on Jason first, and he is a hot man, so I'm more interested in him than Helena. That doesn't mean I don't think Huntress is cool or that she doesn't deserve good books. DC has done both characters dirty, but this series might be a jumping off point for both of them.

"But my ship-"

We are not in control. I want them to make out sloppy-style after a tense, issues-long standoff. Doesn't mean I'm going to get it or that it's going to happen the way I want. Many people hate this idea. Treasure your fanfiction.

And Helena makes a lot of thematic sense for the story, regardless of romance. The two characters have interesting parallels to explore and haven't interacted much, so it's fresh ground. Having another character would mean telling a very different kind of story.

"But the helmet-"

We all love the helmet. We might even get it back one day. But not at the moment, because they're trying something different, and if losing the helmet is the price we have to pay for better writing, than so be it.

"I don't like the art-"

Bummer! Treat the artist with the same level of respect as this post demands for the writer.

"I didn't like her take on Jason in Beast World-"

We're always calling Jason "Potential Man," but with this author- and a black label- we might ACTUALLY get something good. By that I mean something that isn't made to prop up Batman and his values and make Jason look bad in comparison. Something that appears to have considerate thought put into it. She'll be somewhat bound by editorial, but she's still got WAY more leeway.

Me neither. To me he does what he does to protect the weak from experiencing what he has, not takes his day out on them. But that take might change, and if this new book starts out that way, it may not end that way. Regardless. You will be PLEASANT. If you are PLEASANT, maybe she will seek us out and LISTEN.

Lets support her.

"What if I don't like it? What if it's the same crap all over again?"

Again, you will BE POLITE. You will NOT HARASS THE CREATORS. Vote with your wallet. Write a letter. It's happened before, it will probably happen again in the future.

We will live.

I know absolutely for sure there will be features of it I probably won't like, because I am not on the editorial staff to force my opinion. It will be the same for most of us. It sucks, but at the end of the day it's still a comic book, and we'll always have fanwork.

There's a lot of crap happening out in the world right now. Don't add to it.

Peace. Be good, kids! ❤️

[prying-pandora666]

Who is Izumi’s Mom? Copium Edition

So we all know that Bryke have refused to confirm who Izumi’s mother is. Even when they released family trees, the conspicuously left Izumi’s mom blank.

So incredibly frustrating!

So since Bryke insists on baiting us and not giving us closure, here’s a dose of copium for all shippers.

First off! Izumi’s name means “spring fountain”. Remember that.

Secondly, she looks like this:

REASONS WHY YOUR SHIP OF CHOICE COULD STILL MAKE SENSE!

Mai - She looks the most like Izumi. She canonically dated Zuko (until they broke up AGAIN). The former comics’ writer believes they will make up. She and Zuko have a history surrounding fountains. Even with all the drama, she remains the most likely candidate.

Katara - It should be self explanatory why a child named “fountain”, as in water, may be a reference to the one water bender Zuko dueled with most. The two of them clearly developed a connection by the end of the show, and Katara once even offered to heal Zuko’s scar. This one is all but debunked due to Kataang being canon, but it’s still nice to dream! And no one can deny they look great together.

Jin - Zuko and Jin shared lovely chemistry on their one date. Zuko was even willing to risk getting outed as a firebender in the Earth Kingdom and imprisoned, just to make her smile. This scene is also significant because it involved a fountain. Considering the bulk of Zuko’s redemption happened in the EK and the plot continued into the comics dealing with the blended FN/EK colonies, I can see why this would be a good thematic choice.

Toph - A rarer pair but one that one storyboard artist snuck in a reference for! Toph and Zuko have a lot in common. They both come from families of status that abused them for their failure to conform. Toph was born blind while Zuko has a disfiguring facial scar that realistically should affect both his vision and his hearing to an extent. Toph also has a friendship with uncle Iroh and was the first member of the Gaang to successfully understand and comfort Zuko as well as she did. Some point out that Zuko’s daughter Izumi has vision problems (like Toph) while Toph’s daughter Lin has a facial scar (like Zuko). The name Kanto, the alleged father of Lin, can also be written with the characters for “crown capital” so some speculate it’s an alias for Zuko. Spring fountain could be a reference both to the Earth element’s season of spring as well as to a volcano, which is like a fountain combining fire and earth. This scene is the most telling, with two doves representing Zuko and Toph. When Zuko walks away from Toph, the two doves kiss, signifying that perhaps a romance between them is destined for the future. Luckily, Toph knows how to listen and wait. Everything that applies to Jin about making peace with the EK applies even more to Toph since she’s actually from a noble house.

Suki - A bit of a wild card since she’s dating Sokka! But the comics showed Zuko and Suki getting much closer. When no one else was on Zuko’s side during the conflict in the colonies, and even Mai dumped him over his desperate visits to Ozai, Suki stayed by Zuko’s side. She never lost faith in him and tried her best to be there for him. The two have clearly developed a close friendship and bond of trust. Some even see it as romantic, which spells bad news for our boy Sokka. However, seeing as the book Legacy implies Sokka and Suki broke up, perhaps Zuki shippers have more evidence to stand on than originally thought! Everything that applies to Jin about making peace with the EK would also apply, since Suki is also from the EK. Perhaps she could fan the flames of his passion?

Sokka - Okay we all know it’s not going to happen but they’re really cute and I get it. The fountain claim applies to Sokka same as it does Katara! Hey there’s always a chance! Korrasami proved that!

Ty Lee - Not a lot to go off here but it’s undeniable that the two have a weird, unspoken tension. Why is Zuko quietly beefing with his sister’s bff? It’s never explained. Something is definitely going on there! We just don’t know what it is. In the comics, Zuko does lament not playing with Ty Lee and the other girls more as a kid.

Azula - I mean… okay I get it. The features that Izumi has in common with Mai, she also has in common with Zuko. So it’s not impossible to see why some would think she looks like Azula too. But can we please not make ATLA into Game of Thrones? This certainly isn’t helping:

Jet - He’s dead now so it’s not possible. But did Jet actually have a thing for Zuko? You know… it was really unclear.

[bloggingboutburgers]

I had a wake up call about fandom by scrolling today. It's linked to both the fact that I write and my asexuality.

The post was about how people don't consider writers as artists. It remembered me a post talking about how artists are better than writers who just write fetish porn.

And it remembered me. Isn't it all that people care about when it come to fanfic anyway? Writing their otp kissing and then sleeping together?

I wrote literally only gen fic for all my teens years. You imagine that I am used to be ignored. Today, I hate posting my fics, even if I write more who are romantic.

The reviews change nothing. To me, people will never consider the effort I put in my writing because nobody kiss and have sex.

I see this outside of fandom too. Two of my favorite story get its theme ignored because it wasn't a romance despite the male and female lead being close. They just ignore everything that happen just because they deluded themselves that there were romance between them

Because what else could it be? Why else would they read or write fic?

I'm tired that they lead how society view relationship. I hate their obsession for romance and sex that I talk about on the microcosm but apply in an even worst way in real life where my parents think that my best friend talking to me less should be normal because she have a boyfriend (she's busy because of her job but they don't believe me)

It's worst in media for women even if I'll talk only about shojo here, were even if the heroine claim to not want love some stereotypical asshole with a heart of gold will steal hers later.

I hate being a writer in that environment. I hate knowing that I'll change nothing. Even if some people like my ideas I know that on a large scale it's nothing.

...OK, I know we talked about that in private since this message already, that I'm replying to this super-late and I hope I'm not reopening any old wounds, I'm so sorry if I am...

...But tbh I'm still gonna share this as it is and not comment further because... Agreed tbh. I don't write (aside from comics), I don't engage in fandom actively anymore because of such reasons, so I have no idea how to make this better, but... At least visibility of such messages has to account for something I hope, and I don't know if sharing it here will accomplish a lot, but it's the least I can do anyway.

And I'm so sorry I'm doing it so late T^T