#that will have like 2 brown characters that just look like the white characters with the brown bucket tool involved

[creatingblackcharacters]

My 2 Cents

So, one of the follow up questions I asked was

"are you willing to recognize that you have a willing tolerance for antiblackness? That there is a certain amount that you are okay with allowing before thinking it's worth speaking up?"

My goal in asking this question is not to cause you shame (though shame is not inherently a bad thing).

No, the goal is for you to practice active honesty with yourself! Be willing to accept the decisions You made!

You cannot confront- and therefore address- your own racism if you aren't willing to admit to when you're doing and allowing it. Ibram X Kendi's How To Be An Antiracist touches on this topic, of how racism and anti racism are a series of choices, not identities! Here's an article discussing it:

"No one is born racist or antiracist; these result from the choices we make. Being antiracist results from a conscious decision to make frequent, consistent, equitable choices daily. These choices require ongoing self-awareness and self-reflection as we move through life. In the absence of making antiracist choices, we (un)consciously uphold aspects of white supremacy, white-dominant culture, and unequal institutions and society. Being racist or antiracist is not about who you are; it is about what you do."

My personal fan example (and you knew this was coming 🤣) is Hades. I recognized that Patroclus' design is a white man in all but his ashy dark brown skin. It was a racist design, meant to be "representation", and I thoroughly disdain it. It wasn't enough to stop me from buying the game and enjoying it. I made a choice, to settle for mediocre representation so that I could enjoy a character I like! I still spoke up about racist and colorist fan designs, hoping that at least fans may be more receptive to not replicating racism (but that's otros veinte pesos 😬).

I'd naively hoped that maybe they'd do better the second time; maybe their actions were from ignorance! Maybe they'd learn! A *snicker* sage old man once said:

"fool me once, shame on — shame on you. Fool me — you can't get fooled again."

Jokes on Dubya aside, I knew that I was already discontent with the designs in the first game, but I allowed it for my own enjoyment. I acknowledge that. But I had to be honest with myself the second time: if the lack of effort in the dark-skinned character design bothered me so much, and I spent all that time speaking out on it the first time... what do I look like then going to spend money on the sequel game doing it again? Do I really stand for what I said I stand for? Can I ask others to stand for what I stand for, if I don't really stand for it?

That time, I said "no". I decided I'd reached how much I was willing to put up with. I had to accept the consequences of speaking on that choice, including risking being rejected by a creative space I really wanted to be a part of. It is what it is. And it's one of many choices I'll actively make for the rest of my life. Comfort v The Right Thing.

Anyway, these are the sorts of conversations you'll have to have with yourself. Coming to terms with your choices along the journey will better help you identify just how much you're willing to sit on, and whether you want to make a difference about that. You might recognize when you're making a long streak of decisions that suggest you care less than you'd like to think; you might find out you've swallowed more than enough! But you gotta be honest about your own role in it!

[alexanderwales]

My web serial, Worth the Candle, has been adapted into a webcomic. This was thanks to my agent, who I have a great fondness for, since without him I would have to spend time trying to make connections and call people and do a bunch of work that I don't know how to do and am not good at.

I was offered the chance to write the webcomic, but declined, mostly because writing Worth the Candle had taken four years and was pretty draining, and was a story that I feel like I'm done with, minus some editorial stuff, answering fan questions, and the odd bit of promotion. So my level of involvement is that I get the pages as they come in, make some comments on them, and generally just give feedback which they are free to ignore.

So let's talk about some of the adaptational changes! You can read the first three issues on Webtoon here, or the first eight issues if you're willing to pay, and the books start here, but I'll assume that you haven't read either, and there won't be substantial spoilers because I'm talking about stuff from the very beginning. Actually, I guess there will be some spoilers, but later on, and I'll mark them, mostly having to do with some foreshadowing that the webcomic does which I didn't do.

(I licensed the rights to make the webcomic to WebToon and took my money upfront, they didn't ask me to write this post, I have not actually asked the artist/writer why they made these changes, it's just me guessing and commenting, for fun. Edit: My agent has informed me that I'm mistaken, I do get a cut. So apologies for the misinformation, and hooray for me, I guess I signed the contract ages ago and just forgot the details.)

Character Design

Here's how Juniper Smith is described in the books, ch 2:

I won’t belabor my physical description. My friend Greg had once said that I looked like someone had chosen ‘default’ for every option in the character creator, which I’d tried to laugh at but cut kind of deep. I wasn’t handsome, I wasn’t ugly, none of my features were very prominent, my eyes were blue, my hair was brown, average build, average height … After Greg had made his comment at one of our D&D games, my nickname had been ‘default’ for a while, at least until I stopped pretending to find it funny, and even after that my friends would use similar lines to trash talk me, saying that I was “the most generic man alive”, “a white bread with skim milk motherfucker”, or “the human equivalent of vanilla ice cream”. Not that I was any less of an asshole to them.

This is how he looks in the comic:

I would more or less give this full marks.

In terms of other aspects of character design, Juniper is here given a black shirt with a red symbol on it rather than the stock white t-shirt he's wearing in the opening chapters of the first book, probably in the interests of adding in some visual variety. On the page, it's perfectly fine that every person in the first 50k words is wearing basically the same stock outfit. In a visual medium, I do think that you need that pop. I do think it's interesting that Juniper is wearing the same clothes in the classroom as he is on the plane, implying that when he transmigrated his clothes ... came with him? I don't know.

The other major character of the first section is Amaryllis, who is a major character in the entire work. Here's her description in the book:

Standing by a workbench, among various car parts, tools, and cans of unidentified fluids, was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.

I’m not really sure what protocol is here, in terms of prose. I mean, I don’t want to sound like a creep, so maybe I should stay as generic as possible and tell you about her dark red hair pulled back in a braid, the glacial blue of her eyes, how starkly alert she looked as she peered over the parts in front of her, or her grease-smeared clothes. Save for her eyes, I wasn’t really focused on any of that. My mind was consumed by tracing her curves, the shape of her chest in her blood-stained t-shirt, the fullness of her lips and the delicate way she had them parted -- and yeah, it was pretty fucked up that the splatter of blood on her shirt wasn’t worth rating much of a mention. I was consumed with staring at her and thinking how gorgeous she was, until I noticed that she was having a powerful effect on me, at which point different parts of my mind were given over to marveling at the sensation of being so attracted to a girl, and others were still focused on her.

Imagine that someone spent a few years studying your likes and dislikes, running through video of your every private moment, somehow surreptitiously hooking up EKGs to measure your physiological responses without you knowing. Then imagine that they sat down with that data and the best photo manipulation artists in the world and made the absolute perfect picture to cause your heart rate to spike, a jolt to run up your spine, butterflies in your stomach, and a cold sweat on your palms. Then imagine that they did this again, over and over in slight variations, until they had a full 4K 60fps 3D movie to show you. That was what it was like watching her.

And here she is (as she's introduced) in the comic:

Aside from the change in clothes, which in the book are the same white t-shirt and blue jeans that everyone else is wearing, Amaryllis has a scar on her face, of unknown provenance. This was probably added for visual variety, but I do find scars to be very fetching, and in one of the early versions of Worth the Candle she did have one (patterned off a woman with an extremely attractive facial scar I had met, the kind of facial scar that looked like it was applied by a Hollywood makeup artist specifically to give a touch of the exotic and mysterious, except she was a just a Midwestern mom).

And of course Amaryllis was always going to be an adaptational challenge, because the books are told through Juniper's eyes, and she's The Most Beautiful Girl in the World to him, and conventionally attractive to everyone else. Juniper tries to be normal about this. But if you're in the visual medium, you have to show both how Juniper feels and how she actually looks, and attractiveness is just so incredibly personal. My wife and I get in these kinds of discussions a lot, where she'll think someone is good-looking and I'll say "him?" or vice versa.

I think the above panel in particular is a good middle ground, a glamour shot that snaps back to the reality of their first meeting:

(The void gun she's holding there is much different from the one described in the book, not something cobbled together from spare parts and void equipment, but this is another very minor change that I would assume is meant for communicating immediately that this is a lethal weapon, and there's probably not a place for explaining how and from what it was cobbled together, which is also under-explained in the book for reasons of pacing.)

Story

I've read the first nine episodes, and overall, it's hewing very closely. There are a few bits in particular that stand out to me in how they're handled.

Spoilers for later in the series follow, I guess.

These are the opening lines of the webcomic. This is much stronger foreshadowing than I used, and I like it. Part of Juniper's backstory is that he's been deeply depressed and self-destructive, and he's slow to open up about this with other characters or the reader. The "it" that he couldn't go through with is, then, suicide. In the books? This comes very very late. Juniper being depressed after Arthur's death is brought up after the first major arc, halfway through what's now Book 1, and gets more explicit as the books go on, eventually getting to Juniper talking about his attempted suicide with people and grappling with it like ... almost halfway through?

I don't know what the plans for the webcomic are, but my guess is that they're setting up for much, much later on in a way that I didn't. This was always a background element, something that informed Juniper's character, not so much the suicide attempt as the feeling that came after, this understanding that yes, he did want to live, a heady, energizing kind of "I guess I don't have the way out that I thought I did" sort of thing.

So I take it as a good sign that this is the opening line. It points toward them understanding where they're going.

One of the other major adaptational changes is that they signpost Arthur's death with a memorial on his desk:

When I was getting pages, this was one of the first moments where I was like "yes, this is a good change, visual storytelling to replace my walls of text, flows and offers indirect information". I am very happy with the adaptation thus far, and stuff like this is what I love about adaptation in general, the need to grapple with the strengths and weaknesses of the medium.

Content Rating

Worth the Candle gets grim and dark in places. It at least attempts to grapple with serious things. The webcomic is rated Young Adult, and I'm not sure how they're going to handle the later stuff, but I can talk about how they're handling the stuff now, and what I think it means overall.

First, there's a lot less swearing. Worth the Candle in its entirety uses the word "fuck" ~1200 times. Granted, this is over the course of 1.6 million words, so a fuck density of one every 1.3k words, and some of those are in the verb "soulfuck" rather used descriptively, as exclamations, etc. My personal feeling is that this doesn't matter basically at all. I don't think I notice when someone isn't swearing unless they're using corny substitutions or trying to get cute with it.

Second, the violence is toned down in that YA way, where they're still showing much of the same things, just not with the same level of visceral detail. When a Marvel comic has someone thrown into a wall, they're no blood or snapping of bones or mangling of bodies, at least if it's a comic at a certain rating (I have definitely read some edgy 90s comics that do go hard on the violence). I think, overall, that this isn't my preference, which might be obvious from the way that I try to write fight scenes and such. But I'm also sort of inured to this toning down of violence, since it's omnipresent.

Third, there's the sex stuff, and ... well, it hasn't come up in the webcomic yet. I think I laid out my reasoning for why I think sex scenes should be written/included in Why to Write a Sex Scene, but the brief version is that sometimes you're showing how characters relate to each other, what they think of each other, and the sex scene shouldn't always just be something that's skipped over and left to the reader's imagination, because things happen, there are moments of communication, it can and does develop a relationship in the moment rather than after the fact. Plus a little titillation is, in my opinion, usually good.

The great thing about writing webfic is that no one can stop you from just including three solid chapters of hardcore pornography in the middle of your story. I have never done that, but I could is the point, and I would only get complaints from people who have no power over me. That same freedom doesn't exist here, and ... yeah, it makes my heart sink a little bit.

Fourth, there's some of the more mature content stuff, the topics that might not be broached. I don't know how they're handling that, so I reserve judgment, but I think my opinion is probably going to be "well, you do what you have to do", and if my version of the story is superior because there are no brakes, then I can be smugly superior about that.

Conclusion

This is already a fairly long post, and there are a few other things that I could have remarked on, but I think this is all the most interesting stuff.

Alright, just one real quick: Arthur is adaptationally more attractive, though this is also how Juniper sees Arthur and I think by the standards of webcomics, this is actually sort of necessary. Most of the flashback cast is not described until much later on, and by then you kind of know and understand them from the things they've said, if you can keep track of them. Many of the flashbacks are nearly disembodied. But if you're showing Arthur early, then the first impression he's going to make is in his appearance, and that really anchors people.

So overall, I am happy with the adaptation. There are challenges ahead, and I'm thankful that I'm not the one who needs to tackle those challenges.

[fandomhopper-shit]

𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐏𝐞𝐭

Regina George x Female Reader

Summary : After the bus incident regina started to become more aware of everything around her one thing that stuck out to her was the cute girl that sat at the back of her algebra class, turns out she wasn't the only one to see that after all the girl seemed to be the Teacher's Pet

Warnings: Ooc Regina? Internal and External Homophobia, Forced Religion, Manipulation, Perverted old men,Terrible Parents, Swearing, Mentions of Forced Marriage, Protective Regina and Mild Scopophobia [Fear of Being looked at]

A/N: This is probably gonna be terrible like my other one so i will probably keep this in my drafts part 2 will come out just not eventually

Regina's Pov :

Walking back through the halls of North shore was a completely different experience for me since i wasn't the queen be anymore i started to see more of the 'background characters' as the old me would say, there were so many underrated cliques that honestly looked kinda cool and fun to hang out with for example ; The goths their make up looked so complicated but it fit them just as much as their clothes then there was the softball girls who looked like they could kick your ass but when you looked close enough they were just a bunch of goofy masc's but I would never tell any of them this to their faces I was reformed but I was still Regina George.

I walked into my Homeroom and saw a new teacher, I guess since it was a new year so there were bound to be some new people but what really caught my eye was the girl sat in the back of the classroom near the window, she was pretty. Really pretty. She wore a red oversized hoodie that was covered in white stars that were painted on there were other splatters of paint on it which just made it all the more unique then she had a plaid skirt that fell comfortably onto her thighs she wore thigh high socks with vans that once again had stars painted all over them but this time they re painted baby pink. It was adorable she looked too innocent to be going to a school like North shore.

I snapped out of my daze when the final bell rang I looked around for new seat and lit up when i saw one in front of the cutie, I quickly walked towards it before any other jock could take it. When i sat down she glanced away from the window towards me and a look of fear i think passed her face i couldn't tell because her face went blank as soon as she looked back at the window completely ignoring my presence I frowned and turned my head back around to see the new teacher looking at her with a weird glint in his eye it made me suspicious but i pushed it aside when he started speaking.

I think i could speak for everyone when I say we were surprised at the strong Southern accent the man had "Y'all bring to your books out we're gonna be looking' over some extra stuff y'all'd've see last year" He paused and let his eyes scan the entire classroom looking onto the girl behind me who refused to raise her head and meet his gaze and for some reason he smirked showing off his rancid brown smoker teeth then he went back to having a passive look, something about him made me and all the other girls and guys in class extremely uncomfortable he was watching us as if we were pieces of meat or worse Toys "Alright everyone My name is Mr Rockefeller, y'all will address me as such ye hear." He had a threatening undertone causing everyone even the football jocks to shrink into thir seats and nod.

The lesson went on and the uncomfortable energy increased especially when he was walking round the classroom 'helping' students with the work, by pure luck he didn't come over to me but he did spend half the lesson with the mystery girl behind me whispering things to her i could hear her swallowing and shuffling uncomfortably in her seat. I couldn't hear everything he was saying but i definitely caught bits and pieces that made me sick to my stomach, the bell rang and we all rushed towards the door I was about to make it out the door when I heard him call someone back "Ms (L/N) please stay behind I' do like to discuss some matters with you," He had the same weird glint in his eyes as he had at the start of the lesson it was unnerving and borderline predatory my posture stiffened i wanted to say something but my body didn't let me luckily Ms Norbury came in "Mr Rockefeller i'm sorry but Miss (L/N) must come with me to sort out the rest of classes as well as her clubs that her parents signed her up for her," She said not noticing the tense atmosphere in the room, i didn't even notice the breath that left my body.

Ms Norbury turned to me "Ah Regina just the girl i wanted to see, as a part of your new leaf you wouldn't mind if you could show miss (L/N) around the school and take her to her clubs you wouldn't mind that would you Great thank you," she rushed past me after a message popped up on her phone, leaving me stood in the entrance of the classroom while the new teacher and Student were stood in the classroom. The man looked like he was about to murder someone and the girl looked sort of relived but terrified, after a few seconds of awkward seconds she slowly walked towards me like a timid little deer avoiding my eyes and handed me a piece of paper i looked it over and realised it was practically a copy of mine, I smiled to myself "Well looks like we have very class together besides Pe but right now we have English so let's go," I gave the teacher an awkward wave as he glared at me as if i ruined his life, guiding her out the classroom we walked in silence she was constantly avoiding everyones eyes who turned to us so in response i glared at them and they turned away. Just cause i was turning a new leaf didn't mean couldn't install the fear of god into them.

We reached the classroom, walked in and i let her pick the seat she was most comfortable in which was closer to the back window I sat next to her and passed her back her schedule "After this we have History which is at top floor Then Art, Math and Lunch if you want you can sit with my friends?" I shifted in my seat nervously when she didn't reply for a good 30 seconds had i overstepped was she uncomfortable oh god shit shit shit i didn't mean to do that what do i do maybe i ca-

My spiralling was cut off when i heard a small southern voice quiet enough that i almost thought i imagined it "Your okay, don't wanna disturb y'all," She whispered letting her hair fall infant of her face to avoid my eyes as if she said something wrong, Her accent was similar to Mr Rockefeller's except more pleasant and it reminded me of a little mouse it was adorable. "We'd love to have you with us (Y/N) don't worry they'll love you," i gently let my hand hover over her arm not actually touching her but letting her know i was there, in homeroom she seemed to hate physical touch she flinched when someone brushed their hand on hers when she let them borrow a pen not to mention the way she was shaking like a leaf when Mr Rockefeller was practically pressing himself up behind her "I'll make sure they don't bombard you too much, if you get overwhelmed by them I'll take you out of there just tap my knee is that good? " the short time i've known her i guess you could say i'm protective of her.

She gave me a small smile so small in fact I almost missed it, the lesson carried on till the bell rang and everyone filed out chatting with their friends in the middle of the hall way it looked normal to me but she looked like she was overwhelmed her eyes were darting all over the place and she was shaking slightly without a single thought i hovered my hand over the small of her back and guided her to the top floor towards our history class, by the time we got there she had calmed down and was almost leaning in to my touch but i was probably imagining it we made it and the lesson went on as normal other than the teacher welcoming everyone.

@dandelions4us

[daisy-mooon]

"I want Annabeth to be blonde :(" then pick up a PJO book and read it you dumb fuck

[thedrotter]

filler doodles about how i comedically whitewashed myself as a child (despite also being the darkest i had and still have ever been in my entire life) because i cannot wrap my head around it

[get-more-bald]

the biggest thing about X6 is not that he doesn't think of himself as human (though he doesn't, and according to some it's correct) BUT that he doesn't see himself as a Person

[whoviandoodler]

I can't stress enough how important it is to draw characters with physical traits you find ugly, unattractive and/or repulsive, especially if you yourself share those traits. Nothing will make you more accepting of diversity in yourself and others that engaging with it during the creative process and giving it to characters you love.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

To Love You (Platonic Yandere!Child x Monster!Reader)

Chapter 1: This child needs me

[part 0, here, 2]

CW: femme bodied GN Reader, monster stuff, accidental adoption, description of nudity (non sexual)

Avery stood as still as the trees he hid behind while he watched the thing become a poor imitation of his mother.

If he barely closed his eyes it would have looked like her, but with his brown eyes wide open, staring at it's nude form, Avery wondered if the monster even knew what a human looked like. Their body was the right height, but the shape was off; it had no breasts, nor genitalia. The creature had taken a quick look at the clothed woman and guessed what her body looked like.

Everything about the monster felt off. Like a mannequin come to life. The skin had no texture or character, no discoloration or birthmarks. The hair was a slightly wrong shade and a little too long. But the worst part of the being was it's face.

It whipped around, staring at Avery with eyes slightly too wide, showing the whites above and below the iris. It's lips were an absurdly red shade, as though it thought the lipstick the woman was wearing was her natural lip color. But what made the face really off putting was the fact that it was too symmetrical. Avery couldn't verbalize that that was what was wrong, but it didn't have the same human inconsistency that his mother's face naturally had.

And for a moment, Avery remembered every single time his mother grabbed his arm a little too tightly.

She never would have killed him. And he told himself that she loved him. But it didn't matter how often she would buy him ice cream after a big fight, or how sweetly she smiled at him, it didn't stop him from flinching whenever she raised her hand.

He didn't know why he did it. Maybe it was the same reason he had grabbed the steering wheel earlier.

Avery rushed forward, and held the monster as tightly as he could.

(Reader) was filled with confusion. Not only was their disguise less than passable, but they were positive that the little boy saw them kill his mom. So why did he hold onto them as though they were the hero?

Their hand reached down and slid over his dirty back. Thoughts of ripping out his spine and eating him as well filtered through their mind, but instead they went on autopilot, as though their true identity had not been exposed already. "Let's go home."

Avery slowly released the monster, looking up at them with large, teary eyes. "Okay.. mommy."

(Reader) gently held the boy's hand in their own, and allowed him to lead them to the damaged vehicle.

It was much more advanced than the last time they saw a carriage, but this wasn't the last time they slept through major technological advancements. They would adapt. They always did.

Tiny frozen fingers squeezed (Reader's) hand to get their attention. "It's too broken to drive. But there's a coat in the back."

The monster looked down, remembering their nakedness. Unlike humans they did not feel the cold, and when they were in their true form they had no need for clothing.

Ripping open the smashed door with ease, (Reader) found a long winter jacket that when they slid it on fell to their knees. Avery still stood by their side, expectantly holding out his arm stiffly so he could hold their hand again. Although it always took a bit for the ancient one to get their mind in order after a long slumber, even they could see that the newly orphaned child was an odd one.

It wasn't customary to ask questions. They just killed people and replaced them. Those who learned of their true nature were also killed. And it had been that way for as long as (Reader) could remember. They had been both man and woman and those who were neither; they had spoken many languages in many skins and lived many lives. But this child was holding out his hand, knowing that they were not his mother.

"Which way is home?" They asked, their voice parroting the sound of the woman screaming her last words, calling out for her child.

Avery still held out his hand expectantly. "Down the road. It's really far."

The creature looked at his hand, then at his small legs, and realized how long it would take if he meant that they lived at the bottom of the mountain. They grabbed him under his arms and easily swung Avery onto their back. Perhaps they would keep him alive, just until they found a better family to cleanly assimilate into.

"Am I heavy?" Avery asked with a surprised tone.

"No." (Reader) almost found his question amusing. Did he not see them rip the car door off?

The six year old thought about when he was sick the year before, and purposefully acted more pathetic than he felt because he wanted his mother's attention. How he sobbed loudly because he was too ill to walk to his bed from the couch. So his mother left him to sleep out in the living room.

It was dangerous, but the idea that this creature was his savior, and not just a monster, gave the child more confidence than he should have had, given his situation. "Are you a girl?"

".. No."

".. Are you a boy?"

sigh "No."

"Oh.." The boy leaned down harder into their back, snuggling into their hair. They didn't smell like their mom's shampoo, they smelled like dirt after the first rain in a long time. "Can I still call you mom?"

(Reader) tried to recall if this had ever happened to them. Had there ever been a time that someone learned of their true nature, and still wanted to pretend like everything was fine? They remembered the last time someone figured out that (Reader) was a monster. The poor wife had snapped, months of little clues here and there had convinced her that her husband was not her husband, but no one would believe her. Not until she stabbed (Reader) in the chest, and the thing that looked like her husband did not die.

"Yes, you may." (Reader) didn't know why they were amusing the human like they were. But it felt very warm when he constricted his arms around their neck like a snake.

He smiled into their hair. Avery didn't know it, but he was just as confused as (Reader) was. "My name is Avery. Avery Jones. What's your name?"

The creature paused. They knew their name. It was the name of a human they took a long time ago. But they wouldn't tell that to this kid. That the only name they ever thought of as their own, was the name of a child who's life they stole, a child they lived as. It was the longest they pretended to be human. It felt nice. All those years ago. They couldn't remember now what that face looked like, nor why they were so attached to it, but they became (Reader).

"I am now your mother.. What is my name?"

"Luanne. Luanne Octavia Jones."

(Reader) mimicked a laugh, their smile equally as wide on their top lip as their bottom lip. "What a terrible name!"

"Oh..I'm sorry.." Avery tensed up.

"I think I'll prefer Mom."

They felt him relax again. The longer the two walked, the more intriguing the child became. (Reader) murdered his mother. They bit her head in half. They tore her apart, ripped off her limbs, and ate her while he hid not too far away. Perhaps he was in shock?

"Do you know what I am?"

Their eyes opened harder than what was physically possible. Why did they ask that?

Avery wiggled a little. "A hero? Like the Martian Manhunter?"

"What is that?"

"A cool hero from Mars! He helps Superman! And he can change into stuff!"

(Reader) could have scoffed. Them? A hero? But the situation was slowly starting to make sense. 'And so, I am a hero..'

His body was lighter than (Reader) remembered human children to be, and they wondered if it was normal. He wasn't much shorter than the average child, but his body was like a housecat's. "How old are you, Avery?"

"Six."

Older than I thought..

(Reader) carried the boy for well over two hours before another automated carriage passed by, slowing and pulling off towards the tree line behind them. Avery sleepily mumbled "It's the police.." as the monster halted their steps.

An officer stepped out, a younger man with hard eyes squinted in suspicion, and approached the two travelers.

"Is everything alright, ma'am?" His green eyes glanced down at their bare legs and dirty feet.

His question woke Avery up, as though he only just then remembered that his mom was not his real mother. "We were in an accident." The boy stuttered out.

"An accident?" The officer looked up the road briefly. "Are you two alright?"

"Ye-"

"Ma'am, where are your shoes?"

He interrupted (Reader), and they immediately considered killing him. But it was a good question. What were they supposed to say? A mostly naked woman had been found descending the mountain with a child on her back, was strange, most definitely concerning and possibly nefarious. Could he tell that under the long jacket they were nude?

Avery was panicking. They could feel his breathing hitch and hear his heart speed up. "We flipped our car! And- and-"

"I hit my head." They responded more monotonously than they intended. "I don't remember the accident, and I don't know why I took off my clothes." (Reader) reached up and ran their hand across the back of their head. Obscured by their hair and the angle, only Avery saw as one of their nails grew quickly, slicing open part of their scalp, just enough to get blood on their fingers.

The policeman's eyes relaxed their suspicious gaze when they brought their bloody hand out. However, it almost instantly bounced back. "Have you been drinking tonight?"

"No."

"Have you taken any illegal substances? Any medications you've been prescribed?"

The questions were aggravating (Reader). "No."

"Any medical issues I should know about?"

"She's bleeding!" Avery cried out.

"Alright, calm down. I'm going to bring you down to the station. Do you consent to a blood test?"

The police were.. interesting. Having been so many people, the creature was not dumb to the inequalities humans forced upon other humans. They remembered how one body would be treated very differently than another body, but even with having experienced it, if they saw a naked woman walking along the woods, injured, it felt natural that sympathy would have been expressed. Or at least, sympathy for her presumed husband. It didn't matter. Luanne had not fully finished digesting. If they wanted blood for a "blood test" (whatever that was), they could easily supply it. They just hoped that Avery's mother hadn't been drinking. Which was another interesting development. Had the humans made alcohol illegal again?

No matter how unfair this treatment was, (Reader) knew it would get Avery out of the cold sooner. And if things went sideways, they could easily kill this man.

"I do."

Avery was nearly hyperventilating and his grip had tightened like a vice. "Why are you being so mean?!" Tears started to bloom as his voice wobbled. "We had an accident! My mommy was bleeding and took off her clothes! She was just confused, and, and, and that's why she can't remember!"

The man went rigid, and was almost uncomfortable. "Would you like me to call an ambulance?"

"YES!" The boy cried out, shaking against (Reader's) spine like a small dog.

He eyed their legs once again. "Why don't you wait on the back seat, and I'll grab you a blanket?"

It didn't take long for another, larger and brighter colored vehicle to arrive, with people who were much more sympathetic than the officer. One of the men even seemed to be berating the officer while another person checked (Reader's) body for injuries.

"She seems to have a concussion, so I don't know why you would jump to drugs-"

"Look are what she's wearing-"

"-I watched a young man take off his shoes and hide them in a cabinet when he suffered a traumatic brain injury, okay? People do weird things when they're in pain-"

"Still I think-"

"-She should be going to a hospital. They'll test her for alcohol there, but her head is still bleeding, and she has no signs of intoxication other than 'her clothes' and her lack of memory, both of which can be explained by trauma."

The blue clad worker shined a light in (Reader's) eyes, which (Reader) manually dilated to resemble a human's natural response. They continued focusing on their heart rate and breathing, mimicking Avery's as he leaned against their shoulder. "I think it would be best if we take you to the hospital." The person with short hair smiled kindly.

"I just want to go home.. I can't remember anything that happened today, but my son is tired."

"Well.. I can't force you to go to the hospital, but I can call someone to come get you? And recommend that if your memory worsens, or if you feel confused, if you start throwing up, can't sleep, randomly pass out, or develop a fever, you go to an ER as your concussion could be something worse, like an internal brain bleed."

"Someone you could call..?"

"Dad's still at work." Avery whispered.

Ah. So I am married. This new information didn't sit well with (Reader). They had been married before, plenty of times actually; but what kind of man was he if his wife was like Luanne?

Overhearing this, the paramedic chastising the policeman volunteered his services on the officer's behalf. "If you don't have anyone you can call, Officer Delaney can drive you home. But I do suggest you let us take you to the hospital."

"Thank you." (Reader) could see the two men shudder as they smiled at the both of them. "But I'm really tired. And I just want to go home."

"Alright then.. don't hesitate to go to a hospital if your symptoms don't improve." The man shifted his eyes uncomfortably.

(Reader) returned to the police car, Avery securely tucked under their arms and on their hip. Their attempt at human expression had frightened both the medical professional and the officer. "I will."

The little boy held on to (Reader) more aggressively than he ever remembered holding onto his own mother.

It was peculiar.

Had (Reader) ever felt this way before? They had felt attachments before. Held and loved, but those feelings were easily thrown away whenever their hunger reared it's ugly head. But this wasn't the connection of a family loving someone they assumed (Reader) was.

This little boy was not clinging to Luanne Octavia Jones.

Avery was clinging to (Reader).

[dramadramallama]

So. The Time of Fever. The story is pretty simple, but it was elevated by some choice cinematography and music... sooooo let me take two seconds to gush about the two kissing scenes.

Both scenes are shot to convey something very specific (how special the characters are to each other) and although not much is said, a lot is implied. I don't know how intentional it was, but they also end up almost a perfect "reverse" of each other.

The bare bones of the two scenes are as follows:

Kissing Scene 1: infirmary (public setting, neutral white, Dong-hee takes care of Ho-tae's wound)

tension, uncertainty/confusion, complicated feelings (shaky cam, tense dialogue)

something sets it in motion ("hyung")

music starts

slow and steady - dreamlike atmosphere (tension released)

outside interruption, music stops - back to reality, tension back up

Kissing Scene 2: bedroom/house (private setting, heavy color-coded, ends in pain for both of them)

comforting, easy-going, chill vibe (steady cam, silent book reading)

something sets it in motion (hand feeding)

no music

shakiness, quick movements - raw, not romanticized (tension goes way up)

minimal music - self-interruption - got a lil too real, tension goes down

If you watch them back to back it's even more obvious, I love iiiiiit. The contrast of it all!! YES. Sorry for my ugly GIFs, I just wanna illustrate my points lol

In the first scene, Dong-hee and Ho-tae let down their guard and enter a bubble of peacefulness, before it bursts. The scene starts off with quick, nervous dialogue, no music. The shots go from tight to even tighter, and the camera shakes a lot, reflecting the ambient tension.

The music, gentle and hopeful, starts as soon as both of them "fold". Ho-tae agrees to use the hyung honorific for the first time since ep1, and Dong-hee gently goes in for the kiss. The scene is drenched in white, the camera movements slow, to the point it's hard to notice whether they themselves are moving slowly or if there's a subtle slow-mo effect applied. It's unhurried, like they have all the time in the world.

The music swells into something very airy and dreamy as soon as their lips touch; the camera steadies, the shakiness fades—the surroundings too. Even when the camera pulls back a little, the framing is minimal—you can't even distinguish where they are anymore (in a school infirmary, behind a curtain, against a window). The only thing in focus is their faces, the rest is slightly blurry or washed out. It's not just visually that things fade out, there's also barely any background noise: no ruffle of their clothes, no school chatter, no bird chirping. it's just them, floating on a cloud, the heaviness of the moment gone, the initial anxiety soothed.

The moment, the music, the kiss—everything is interrupted abruptly by an outside element: the school bell. The bubble pops, like a dream they both wake up from—signaling the end of recess, back to harsh reality. Their eyes open, they freeze, and just like that, the camera shakes are immediately back.

The scene unfolds smoothly and clearly: it takes the characters from a moment of tension, to sweet release, steadiness, and calmness—it starts from something complicated and changes to something pure and easy, like a knot being unraveled—and then snaps them back to reality.

The contrast with the second kissing scene, happening in the same episode (!) is nothing but art tbh. Like I said, it looks like the reverse of that first scene, but it unfolds the same way. This time, it starts off quiet and gets thick with tension.

First, they're at home, not in a public space. It's not day-time. They're lying down. The private, safe atmosphere of the scene is reinforced by the warm colors. It's late autumn, it's getting cold. They set up a space-heater (it casts a reddish brown hue over them), place a comfy (red) carpet on the floor to keep the heat in and to laze around on. The camera is steady, the framing comfortable, no shakiness.

They're still facing each other, one is on his back, looking up to his book, the other one is on his stomach, looking down as his own. Everything conveys a cosy, relaxed but intimate vibe, without any agitation. Ho-tae is snacking absentmindedly on some seasonal fruit (clementine/mandarin). There's no talking. There's also absolutely no music. You hear everything, from the distant creaking of the house, to the pages rubbing together, to the crickets outside.

Then, comes what sets the scene into motion: Ho-tae feeds Dong-hee some fruit. Dong-hee takes it into his mouth easily. The mood switches. A lot of close-ups, and the camera movements become shakier, more chaotic: tension goes from 0 to 100. Where there was a lightness, softness to that first kissing scene, it's pretty much the complete opposite here. It's more intense, but there's a sort of ache, an urgency to it that was completely absent in the first scene. The breathing gets heavier, louder, no music to cut through the reality of it. It's been a while since I've seen such an erotic scene, without it being explicit.

When it does come, the music kicks in very slowly, just a few low notes of piano, not enough to cover the noises (the kisses, the breathing), the initial warmth of the scene becomes almost stifling. And just a few seconds later, everything abruptly stops once again, but this time, Dong-hee himself is the one putting an end to it. The camera very slowly tones down the shakiness, back to steady.

In this scene, the characters' comfort and peace crumble, the kiss doesn't appease, it lights a fire. Gets them inflamed and exposed. Takes them from innocence and easiness to desire and hurt, from sanity to fever. The hazy, nice moment catches fire and burns up too fast. Like Ho-tae's fingers twisting knots into Dong-hee's sweater, the feelings gets tangled up, and both end up getting hurt.

The first kissing scene was the beginnings of some clarity, they both let go of what holds them down, while that second scene is charged with angst, it weighs heavily on them. The parallel was just so good I needed to get this out.

[jesncin]

Caped Crusader, "Safe Diversity", and Catwoman

We're at a point where it's expected that a new incarnation of any story previously with a white-dominated cast would be reimagined with a "more diverse" cast. This can mean racebending them, genderbending them or making them queer, but for the purposes of this analysis we'll be focusing on racebends. Most of the time, executives will take the "safer" routes with diversifying their cast- pick a couple of unproblematic supporting characters to be incidentally "diverse this time". Other times, there might be "braver" takes where more prominent characters (perhaps even the main character) are racebent. This doesn't necessarily mean racebending prominent characters is an inherently better thing to do.

I've been more than critical of MAWS' portrayal of BIPOC characters but especially their Asian Lois before. Sometimes BIPOC representation is just a decorative palette-swap change for these shows. Caped Crusader however, is different. It's more complicated- but it's rooted in very similar problems. Unlike MAWS (though I can only speak for S1), CC is far more willing to take on political topics: classism, sexism, police corruption and brutality, even beauty standards in the entertainment industry! Yet, in choosing to portray these topics in their stylistically anachronistic 30s-40s set piece- it makes it so the show's reluctance to discuss race intersecting with any of these topics far more apparent.

(spoilers for all of Caped Crusader)

Take for instance, episode 2: "...And Be A Villain". The story is about Basil Karlo, a less than handsome actor who wishes his appearance wasn't holding him back from both love and playing roles saved for better looking people. He makes a deal with Jack Ellman, an experimental makeup artist who turns him into Clayface. This story is set in motion when Miss Yvonne Francis, a beautiful actress, goes missing. Miss Francis is a woman of color (brown skinned, unspecified) played by Lacey Chabert: a white actress. CC goes for a generally colorblind casting what with Stephie (a white girl) being voiced by Amari McCoy (a Black actress) but it always feels icky when a white actor voices a character of color. Prominent characters of color in CC are more accurately casted. However I do think animation should be wary of using their medium to get away with their show appearing more diverse than the actual talent behind it.

The episode's theme is pretty clear on how unfair the entertainment industry is in regards to who it prioritizes in leading roles. Basil is constantly emphasized as a tragically talented actor whose appearance is holding him back. "With your talent you should be a leading man, Basil." Yvonne says to Basil in a flashback. Meanwhile as Alfred is watching through movie clips featuring Yvonne and Basil together, he comments "while lovely to look at, Miss Francis is no Gloria Swanson." So Yvonne has the looks, but not the talent and still gets prestigious roles because that's showbiz. The only time this is weirdly inconsistent is when Yvonne calls out Basil/Clayface in the finale, saying:

"I don't believe your performance. You're chewing on scenery. Relying on makeup effects to enhance weak characterization. It's insincere, Basil. It's not real."

I honestly feel like this scene was just meant to quickly "subvert" Yvonne being a damsel in distress by having her call out Basil's acting. It's a moment that isn't reinforced by anything the episode set up. After all, according to Alfred, she's not as good an actor compared to Basil. That's supposed to be how they foil each other, so this moment feels unmotivated. Again, I get what they're going for, that Basil's performance ironically relies on his newfound appearance so much that even a bad actress like Yvonne can spot his meager acting. But it doesn't work when our protagonists were actually convinced by his imitation of others. She's still a damsel in distress character regardless of her having a bit of attitude when calling her captor out.

What I don't understand is: why make Yvonne a woman of color if this was the story you wanted to tell? It's not like they're paying homage to how her voice actress looks, after all. Why, in your story set in purposely anachronistic 30s-40s era noir, did the character who was meant to represent the epitome of "not talented but gets by the industry because of her conventional beauty and pretty privilege" a woman of color? We're missing the very obvious conversation here where Tinsel Town is a white industry with white biases to what it considers attractive. It doesn't matter how many attractive actors of color exist, they're still pigeon holed into stereotyped and often racist roles (especially back then), and have to work twice as hard to get the opportunities their white colleagues get. Why is Basil, a white man, the only one afforded a marginalized narrative when Yvonne is quite literally a woman of color right next to him? The episode is especially painful to sit through when Basil is afforded so much sympathy compared to Yvonne.

"He didn't have the right look. He didn't have the right face."

"The camera is kind to some, but cruel to others."

This is transparently a colorblind narrative. Yvonne is written and even casted as a white woman. The CC crew just decided she should be a WOC likely because "wouldn't it be neat if the beautiful actress in this story is POC" without thinking about how that would drastically change a narrative already critical of the showbiz industry based on appearances. It's not intersectional and flattens the narrative to being selective of the prejudices Tinsel Town has. This episode is a great example to what CC generally does with diversity. It's not afraid to be critical of society, but it gets oddly squeamish with discussing how race intersects with these topics- opting mostly for a palette-change type of representation.

It's not entirely fair to say CC doesn't ever touch on the topic of racism. It sort of does: if you read between the lines for why the mayor gives Jim Gordon his commissioner role, and more prominently with the Gentleman Ghost (a rich aristocrat ghost that steals from the poor, believing wealth is his right) being offended that his mansion is sold to Lucius Fox (saying "and you would sell it to rabble like this?")- racism is somewhat present in the world of CC. We see the women in this show experience misogyny, but it's ambiguous if any of their struggles are intersectional with that of race. But that's... just about it. Racism isn't discussed more than it is alluded to, whenever the writers decide it's relevant. Because of this, CC has a spectrum of hits and misses when it comes to integrating characters of color in their reimagined cast.

Here's how I would visualize that spectrum using canonized instances of Asian Lois Lane. I should emphasize that representation of people of color doesn't entail the narrative owing us "a racism arc" or what have you. This spectrum is more used to measure how much racial identity was integrated in the characterization of the character: whether that be cultural identity or history. Being a person of color isn't just "person who goes through racism".

This is how I'd personally place the prominent characters of color in CC on my "spectrum of racebends" chart. Generally most of the characters of color (whether reimagined that way or were originally POC already) are fairly harmless in how they were integrated into CC's world, but none of the characters feel bespoke as a reimagining of the character and are interchangeable with their white counterparts. To quote cartoonist Juni Ba (in a discussion on CC):

"...stripping characters of color in these time period stories of any cultural, [a]esthetic or social signifiers that’d make them true to the groups being represented. Instead they dress, act and speak very western."

In my opinion, the only character that is an exception to this is Linton Midnite (or as he's popularly known as: "Papa Midnite"). Midnite is a character so interlinked with Haitian culture and mysticism that even CC couldn't erase that aspect of his identity (important note: historically, the portrayal of Midnite since his creation is riddled in racism, but that's not my place to discuss here). Midnite at most speaks with an accent, dresses more nonconformingly compared to the western standard dress of all the other characters, and practices occultish stuff (though I don't think there was anything culturally specific in that episode, please correct me otherwise if someone has more insight!). That's a lot more cultural representation than just about any other character of color in CC. Midnite can't be changed to a white character, his African identity is too interlinked with who he is.

There are a few characters I consider in poor taste to be POC- that being Arnold Flass, Yvonne Francis (who we've covered already), and Harley Quinn (who will be getting her own post, as her case is complicated). So let's talk about cops, then.

I tend to be indifferent about media choosing to diversify cop characters because it feels like choosing the most "respectable to society" role for a marginalized character to play. Cops uphold bigoted systems of power at the end of the day, so that's a very comfortable place to represent your marginalized characters. It's why we keep getting gay or lesbian cops, which Batman media absolutely perpetuates as well with Renee Montoya. It's hard to cheer for two women of color being allowed to date and kiss in public when one of them is a cop, y'know? But this doesn't mean re-imagining cop characters doesn't have narrative merit.

In regards to Jim Gordon being reimagined as a Black cop, I'm gonna refer to La'Ron Readus' video on "Fixing the Batman's Copaganda problem" where he goes into detail about the missed potential of Black!Jim Gordon from Reeves' The Batman (2022). Generally, I felt that opportunity was missed in CC as well. While I love that Barbara Gordon is in CC, nothing about her being a WOC is integrated into this version of her. It felt like if either character was white, the story wouldn't be that different. The bigger issue here is the choice to racebend Arnold Flass- a previously white, blonde, cunningly smart, and brutally corrupt cop.

CC follows some of this in their version of Arnold Flass- he's paired with Harvey Bullock (also a corrupt cop). While Bullock is the brawns of the duo, Flass is the smarts. He's cunning and even implied to be willing to frame Bullock if the worse comes to it. It isn't an inherently bad idea to racebend a corrupt white cop into a Black cop. If the writers want to tell a story about how the police force assimilates people of color into the system and forces them to be just as if not more brutal than their white counterparts, then by all means tell that story.

But that's not what CC gave us. By rarely acknowledging race, we don't get to have a conversation or themes surrounding that delicate intersection of identities. We just have "diverse Flass". Look at these panels from Year One for example, can you imagine how Flass' casual disrespect for Gordon by constantly calling him "Jimmy" could be re-contextualized with a race change? Unlike other characters who just feel like missed opportunities for not integrating race into their characterization, Flass is an elephant in the room. To not acknowledge his race in themes of police corruption and brutality is to white wash the narrative with diverse paint.

I personally think the stronger narrative decision would have been to racebend Bullock as Black instead of Flass. Flass could still be the conniving cop, but he encourages Black!Bullock to be the more "violent brute" who does the dirty work for him. It would put a newfound racial layer to how Flass considers Bullock disposable. Then we could have some kind of commentary on how the police force encourages a system of abuse that makes even fellow POC turn on each other. It'd also make it so a certain scene would be better in optics.

I have many criticisms for the scene where Batman holds a gun to Flass in the finale of CC. It's a narratively unmotivated (see my criticisms for CC's Two Face here for elaboration) and weak moment that relies on metatextual shock value to cover up how underdeveloped this take on Batman is. But it's also just very uncomfortable optics-wise. It's a common and valid criticism that Batman as a character can very easily fall into copaganda, with his status, goals, and collaboration with the police force. In many ways, Batman is often written to be committing his own kind of vigilante police brutality.

Caped Crusader wants to be a deconstruction of a Batman tied to power and hellbent on his mission to eliminate crime. But because CC occasionally omits race from its narrative, the scene where Batman holds a gun to a Black cop-a man stripped of his ability to fight back-just falls flat for me. There's no acknowledgement in this scene that Batman basically gets to be an anonymous cop, "warning shots" and all. Batman shoots at an unarmed Black man several times. It's meant to be shocking to us how Bruce is willing to stoop to such a level and indulge in gratuitous gun violence, but it honestly hits too close to real incidents where this is racially the case for me to enjoy the narrative point of this scene.

You know a character who would be perfect for calling out Batman's many privileges? Selina Kyle. Let's talk about Caped Crusader's biggest downgrade.

I've heard just about all the arguments in favor for CC's reimagining of Catwoman and none have convinced me that this was in any way a good take on the character. I see people saying that this Catwoman is a return to her golden age roots, and there's a lot of misconception surrounding that assumption. So bear with me as looking at Catwoman's history is necessary to discuss race and how a character evolves.

Catwoman debuted in the 1940s as a jewel thief who disguised herself as an old lady. She was just called "The Cat" and would not don her more feline appearance until later. True to the mystery woman femme fatale trope she was inspired by, her backstory was left unknown for a long time. 10 years later, in Batman #62 it is revealed that after a plane accident bonked her head, the now named Selina Kyle got amnesia and went on a crime spree. Giving her leeway to reform and be an ally to Batman. This would historically inform how Selina Kyle toed the line between good and evil as an anti-hero.

Her origin would be revisited in 1983, in the Brave and the Bold #197. Although not canon to the mainline universe, it is still a crucial development for her character's history. In this story, Selina reveals that she lied about having amnesia to get out of facing punishment. Her true story was that she entered a life of crime to escape an abusive relationship with a rich man. The only loss her husband understood was material loss, loss of property, so stealing was how Selina fought back.

This crucial re-examination of her character transformed her from shenanigans inducing femme fatale, to a marginalized fighter. Shortly later in 1987 in Batman Year One, Catwoman is reimagined as a street-hardened sex worker in poverty. She is inspired by the Batman to become a vigilante for her own goals and gets annoyed that she's assumed to be his sidekick.

The moment Catwoman became marginalized by power, was the point where she became worthy of solo-character status. She was not only a compelling foil to Batman-capable of going toe to toe with him and make him question his motives even though she did not share his privilege-she could lead her own adventures reflecting a side of Gotham Bruce Wayne's perspective doesn't. She actively makes the setting of Gotham stronger because of how she's evolved as a character.

Catwoman's character would continue to evolve, with some iterations reimagining her as a latina woman and others where she's canonically bisexual.

While Catwoman has been portrayed by Black actresses before, I want to focus on the most recent and prominent iteration of a race-swapped Catwoman. When Matt Reeves' The Batman (2022) featured Zoe Kravitz as Selina Kyle, an explicitly biracial character within the text of the story, we see another step this character evolves. I think La'Ron Readus' video on "Why Race-Swapped Characters Are Not The Full Story" does a fantastic job of explaining why this is a narratively great race swap. To summarize (though I do encourage watching his video as he goes into depth about 2022 Batman's Jim Gordon as well among many other examples) and add analysis of my own: Selina being the byproduct of an Italian crime lord and a Black sex worker is a brilliant marriage of her original backstory (being connected to and abused by powerful men) and her modern backstory where she's poverty stricken (and tangentially related to a sex worker if we're talking about Batman Year One).

We understand why someone of her background would have an affinity for stray cats because of how she lost her mom at a young age, she is sympathetic to fellow people from the lower class, and explicitly calls out privileged white people- including Batman who attempted to over moralize Selina's partner as a sex worker.

"All anyone cares about in this place, are these white privileged assholes."

It's especially that last line that makes it so Selina's character isn't interchangeable with her white counterpart. She's a textually rich character to contrast Bruce in Batman 2022, and we can see how years of history and evolution has brought such an empathetic character to the screen. Interestingly, Readus feels that while 2022 Selina was an example of a race-swap that works, he believes it was great by coincidence, because of the miss that was Gordon's characterization in the same movie. I think with Reeves as a collaborator on Caped Crusader, that assumption was correct.

Selina in CC is back to being a rich socialite, but (unlike her Golden Age counterpart) she's not married into wealth- she's got generational wealth (with a dad serving jail time for tax evasion). Worse yet, she's taking what little remains of her money and spending it on superficially imitating the Batman to create her Catwoman persona. She even has her own reluctant Alfred, a Catmobile, the works. Selina steals things because. She likes shiny things. And is something of a kleptomaniac. Catwoman is instantly discovered to be Selina because of course she's not as good as Batman is with keeping a secret identity (another key difference from her Golden Age counterpart, whose backstory was shrouded in mystery for a decade).

It is laughable to me that CC touts that their version of Harley Quinn has an origin of her own outside of the Joker, only to turn around and make a Catwoman that is completely tied to copying a man as her origin (did they decide Harley's goofyness as a character needed to be replicated in Selina for some reason? In their supposed dark and edgy show?). What a strange choice to fixate on the part in Year One where Selina didn't like being mistaken for Batman's assistant despite being inspired by him and turn it into a quirky bit. It feels like such a regressive take that frames Selina as a sillier, whimsical version of Bruce that just spends money on a whim because women just aren't smart enough to know how to keep track of their money. They're too busy looking for shiny things to steal. The fact that both 2022 Batman and CC have a scene where Selina is looking through her many bills she's yet to pay is wild to me. How am I supposed to care for a Selina that has the expendable wealth to create a Catwoman costume, car, and gadgets, but delay paying her maid? One of these versions of Selina is far more sympathetic than the other.

Again, I get what CC is going for. Batman is characterized to be hellbent on catching criminals, Catwoman is supposed to serve as some kind of reflection of his obsession. They're both self destructive in their goals, but one is vengeance and the other is chasing thrills. But is that really as interesting a foil as having Catwoman be marginalized, just as skilled, and making Batman second guess himself? Is it a take that strengthens Gotham as a setting by shedding light on its lower class characters? Is it a take that makes her worth revisiting as a perpetual rogue and not a one off episode where's she's basically a shenanigans-inducing nuisance to Batman? Evolved takes on Catwoman have talked about her desire to seek thrills and paired it with how she dismantles power. So it's not like CC's take is particularly unique, it just lacks all the depth that usually surrounds Selina's thrill seeking.

In a show that is frankly desperate to make it so Bruce doesn't have a personal relationship to his rogues gallery because he's too busy being "A cold, remorseless avenger of evil, seemingly more machine than man. Forged in the fire of tragedy, every fiber of his being is dedicated to the eradication of crime." (according to promo) that's how we end up with Barbara as the foil and humanity to both Harvey Dent and Harley Quinn. How the show focuses on the police force more than Bruce. It feels especially pointed that Catwoman is characterized this way. When she doesn't contrast Bruce, she becomes less personal to him as a character that is poverty stricken but still matches up to him in skill. She can't challenge him or his worldview, he can't find her fascinating as an equal, all of their chemistry and intrigue is erased.

All this to say that of the characters revealed for CC, I was honestly surprised that Selina wasn't one of the many characters racebent. CC followed up on a Black Jim and Barbara Gordon, two characters that have been race swapped before in previous media. Most prominently! Harley is Asian in this iteration, something never done before. So why is it that Selina doesn't follow up on the many times she's been portrayed by Black actresses?

It's because it's an actual good racebend if written well. It wouldn't be a "safe" racebend because writing Selina this way means you'd have to acknowledge racism, and it would be much more noticeable if you didn't. There is no canonized version of Asian Lois Lane that parallels her relationship to Superman as an immigrant. But there is a version of Selina as a Black woman who directly calls out white people and is aware of systemic power. It's in something as prominent and mainstream as Matt Reeves' 2022 Batman. So instead it just reads as cowardice to me that CC couldn't follow up on this evolution of Selina.

Not only does it weaken Catwoman and Batman's relationship to regress Selina this way, but it actively weakens Gotham as a setting and the very themes of Caped Crusader. I personally think all the energy that went into Harley Quinn should have been shared with (or straight up gone to) Selina Kyle. Because unlike CC's take on Harley, the way Selina Kyle's marginalization intersects with race and queerness would have actually critiqued Gotham's class corruption effectively. As a Black queer woman, Selina would be among the most vulnerable people in Gotham. We don't have prominent characters in CC that truly reflect the lower class, there are these unnamed characters Harvey Dent sits next to on a train. There are some orphans with Batfam names. A proper Catwoman reimagining that takes advantage of her evolution would have filled this gap in their narrative.

But that's not how "safe diversity" works. CC would rather racebend and canonize the queerness of a character like their take on Harley Quinn. A WOC who gets to kiss a cop and call out powerful men, but not in a way that makes white people uncomfortable.

If I could edit the Sandman quote that "The great stories will always return to their original forms" for Superheroes, I'd say "The great stories will always return to their most resonant forms" because without iterations we don't get characters like the Kents, Alfred or Catwoman as we know her today. Classics are good to look to, but we like these characters because they evolve. In my opinion, none of CC's takes on these characters of color feel resonant. They're not definitive to the level of Mister Freeze's tragic love story in BTAS, among many standout narrative choices in BTAS that continue across media iterations.

In my opinion, CC isn't as thoroughly clumsy as MAWS is in regards to POC representation and race-swaps (all characters of color in MAWS get put in the left side of that chart I made. In the Sunken Place. Where they all Missed The Movement). However, I can't help but see Caped Crusader's take on the world of Gotham as nothing more than an anecdote in the evolution of Batman's story for the modern era. "It's BTAS but superficially more diverse and with less compelling narrative choices."

[nctstar]

hi! i just read "one, two..." with djj × female pairing and i was wondering if you could maybe do a jeno, haechan and mark/jaemin version? i love your works!

your wish is my command bsf <3 also thank you so much! means a lot :)

don't let us kinkshame you!

“Don’t talk back to me. If you want to stop, we’ll stop. But don’t stop because you’re shy. Tell us what you want, baby.”

“Yeah, _. Don’t let us kinkshame you.”

pairing: markhyuckno x fem!reader, stylist!reader

other members: chenle (poor dude has no idea)

word count: 7.2k

genre: smut

warnings: this is purely a graphic smut so minors please dni!! foursome, everything is consensual (safeword is established + mentioned), dom!marhyuckno (hard dom!jeno), sub!reader, fanfiction smut is a main theme in this, wet dreams, alpha/omega/beta kink, alpha!jeno, sir kink, sort of muscle/size kink (i'm sorry but bulging biceps make me go insane), unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you get silly folks), rough sex (reader is manhandled/held down), degradation (liberal use of the words slut, whore, brat + other degrading terms), everyone has a ginormous dick, slight praise kink, sort of pain play (not really) intense orgasms, squirting, fingering (fem receiving), humiliation, oral (male receiving), nipple play, riding, crying during sex, spanking, begging, punishing reader sexually, profanity

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: thank you anon and sorry this is definitely the nastiest thing to ever come out of my imagination and onto my laptop. i think i'm on some sort of watchlist for sure

“Have you read it, _?”

“Read what?” The sound of the hairdryer muffled most sounds in the room, including Mark’s voice as you watched his mouth open and close with his answer. Running your hands through Haechan’s semi-dry locks, you noticed a lit-up phone in front of your face. Squinting, you read while your hands worked.

poison | alpha! jeno x reader | 18+

You swallowed thickly, but quickly composed yourself. Swiping the hairbrush off the dresser, you glanced at Haechan in the mirror, setting his hair at the same time. “Sounds like more action than you two would ever get in a week…combined.”

Haechan rolled his tongue inside his cheek, playfully annoyed while Mark remained undeterred, his eyes still glued to his phone. His eyes suddenly widen, and he looks away, a mix of morbid curiosity and shock in his eyes. “Damn...”

Haechan sneered. “Got a boner there, Mr Lee?”

An empty can of hairspray bounced off Haechan’s forehead with a dull thump, Mark’s chair now swivelled around to face him. “Guys! Let me do my job! We only have, like, 2 minutes to go, and Haechan, your damn hair isn’t setting.”

“I have to dye it every 2 minutes because I have a comeback that often, remember?”

“Have you been using the treatment I gave you last session?”

“Why? Would you give me a reward if I did?” His deep brown irises glistened under the harsh white lights as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. Smacking his shoulder in response, you tried to hide the way your heart was fluttering inside your chest, like a million butterflies trapped in a glass jar. “Lee Donghyuck!”

“It’s okay baby, it’ll be better next time.”

“Gross.” Embarrassingly, you felt your core twitch at the mere thought of those words being taken out of context. “Such a dirty mind. You sure you didn’t write that alpha fic?”

You were getting brave, but something inside of you forced you to keep going. Haechan scoffed, rolling his eyes and swinging one leg over the other. “Yeah, I don’t have the hots for Jeno. Mark might, though.”

“Say it one more time, Donghyuck, I’m warning you.” Mark was shrugging the salon cape off himself, brushing lint off the stage jacket. He towered over his hairstylist, on her tiptoes as she fixed the strands of hair that spiked strategically on his forehead. His undercut teased you from the side, and you swallowed deeply, thinking about last night. As if on cue, Mark turned to look at you, as quick as you would glance at the barista for your morning coffee. “See you later.”

That was code for see you later with my cock down your throat.

∞

“Nghhh, Mark.”

“You’re doing so well, baby. Think you can go a few more times?”

You nodded slowly, the swollen bulb of his cock sticking onto the remnants of your lipgloss.

“Fuck, such a perfect slut. How did we get so lucky, hmm?” Your hair tangled in his long fingers, he pierced you on his thick length, tapping your cheek with his other hand when you gagged loudly. “Shhh, quieter. Don’t want anyone else to hear, yeah?”

You whimpered softly, desperately trying to open wider to accommodate him. He pushed you deep until your nose grazed his pubic bone, your hands immediately coming to his thighs as a reflex. “Good fucking girl. God, I’m so close. All for you, baby.” You pushed on his thighs when you felt your throat restrict uncomfortably, coughing up saliva as you soon as his cock left your mouth.

Mark tipped your head up to face him, your watery eyes staring back at him. “Gonna make you feel so good after this, yeah?” His thumb pressed down on your tongue hard, forcing drool to slide down your chin. “Use your words, slut. Tell me how much you need my cock.”

Mark was usually mean, but today he was mean mean, and, though you were taken aback, you couldn’t say you hated it.

Garbled sounds left your mouth as Mark slipped his other fingers inside your mouth, forcing you to babble nonsense at him. He laughed darkly. “So pathetic.”

“Mark, please.” You gasped as he released your mouth, fingers now grabbing your chin tightly. “Wanna make you feel so good, s-sir.”

“Wanna make your alpha feel good, baby?” You froze immediately, the word alpha stunning you into place like a deer caught in headlights.

You and Mark stared at each other for much longer than would normally be considered sexy, the energy in the air quickly changing into something painstakingly awkward. Not wanting to lose the momentum you both had gathered or, worse, discuss what just happened, you grabbed at his cock and shoved your mouth onto him, making him stumble backwards and groan. The air was filled with sounds of sloppy head, all caution thrown out the window as you bobbed your head through his orgasm, not stopping until you felt hot spurts of cum shooting down your throat.

∞

“Mark, I will never let you forget this.”

“Haechan, be serious here.” Mark unbuttoned the top of his jeans, breathing out in relief as the seams on the size-too-small pants released its iron-clad grip on his body. The inside of the car was dark, the only light being that coming from Haechan’s phone, illuminating the bottom of his face and lips, now curled into a teasing smirk.

Haechan leant forward, seemingly trying to hide the impending conversation from the poor staff member tasked on driving them back to their dorm. “You used the word alpha unironically while you were making _ suck your dick? I’m actually fucking dying right now.”

“Oh my god, yes, we get it, I tried something new and it failed miserably.” Mark hissed under his break, sneaking one glance behind him. “But what was weirder is…well, you should have seen the look on her face. It’s like she got caught or something.”

Haechan chuckled lowly. “Or maybe she was just weirded the hell out, Mark.”

“Well,” Mark scratched at his head, the hair gel residue now itching at his scalp. “We usually…do more. But today, she just ran out after that and didn’t say anything else.”

“Good job, Milk. You just ruined your chances at sex with her forever, you freak.”

Mark sighed, pretending not to have heard him and frowning as if deep in thought. Haechan raised one eyebrow. “You don’t mean to say…”

“What?”

“That’s not what you’re insinuating, is it?” The car began to slow, and both men became wary of the newfound quiet inside the car as they cruised down a near-empty suburb, the odd man or woman dimly lit by passing streetlights as the walked by. “What are you talking about right now?” As Haechan reshuffled himself on his seat to get closer to Mark, one leg brushed past his, and he cleared his throat, trying to be as unsuspecting as possible.

“You think she’s into that kinda stuff?”

“Well, why would she run away then?”

“Think about what we were doing before this.” The words felt unsure even as they left his mouth, hanging in the air with uncertainty. It was too ridiculous no matter how he looked at it. But just he had to say it.  

The elephant in the room.

“Wait, wait. That’s her story?”

“Woah.” Haechan put down his phone officially, the car now shrouded in a new darkness, both men squinting to make out the other’s face. “I meant that she might have read it. Not that she…well.” He was visibly puzzled now, his voice faint but quick like a flurry of feathers. “I mean, there’s that possibility. But maybe she was into it, and you reminding her of it made her embarrassed.”

“But why would she be embarrassed? We do worse things, for sure.”

“Okay, first of all, gross. Second, she probably hasn’t accepted it herself. I mean, that fic…” He leant back, his jacket crinkling loud in the almost silent car. “There’s stuff in there that goes way beyond your regular wild kinks and shit.”

“She doesn’t strike me as that kind of girl.” Both men sit in silence for a while, letting that sink in. “I mean…she would be confident enough to be bolder about that kind of thing, you know? She’s the kinda girl that knows what she wants, when she wants it, exactly how she wants it.”

“Right.” Haechan bit his lip, trying to hold back the words that’s so fucking sexy for fear of being teased mercilessly for months. He knew you belonged to no one, yet there was a part of him that recognised that you would probably never choose him to have your way with. The way you looked at Mark, eyes glazing over in deep submission, a stark contrast to the way you looked at him, so many things hidden behind those playful, bratty eyes.

Mark hummed under his breath, phone now in hand. “She’s coming tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I think it’s her shift tomorrow.” Haechan didn’t think, he knew. He knew you worked Mondays and Fridays and the occasional Wednesday, always arriving between 13 to 16 minutes early to go to the bathroom first, stepping into the dressing room just a minute before and no later. It was creepy, for sure, but he couldn’t help it. He felt the need to be ready whenever you were there. He needed you to see him only in the ways he wanted, layers of banter and smooth mannerisms hiding his true feelings underneath, the way his heart slammed against his ribcage and threatened to break free whenever you moved close.

“Well, we’ll see how she reacts then.” Mark slouched against his seat, his voice fading away as his attention shifted, and Haechan marvelled at how five second thoughts of you had rendered him completely amnesiac to what he was just talking about with Mark. He closed his eyes, letting his body naturally drift off into an exhausted slumber.

 ∞

“Hey boys.”

Your satin-clad hips swayed back and forth as you walked, one hand re-applying your gloss for what felt like the dozenth time.  “Anyone need a touch up or are we all good here?”

Mark was surprised at your easy demeanour, as if nothing was ever going on between you guys, let alone the encounter you two had had only yesterday. He cleared his throat, sweat dripping down his forehead as another staff member helped him unzip his top from the back. “You look…nice.” He wondered if it was obvious that he was trying to keep his eyes locked on your face, not wanting his gaze to linger too much on your body.

“Yeah, I’m dressed for the event after this. That’s still happening, right?” Your heels clacked against the linoleum floor as you stepped forward. Haechan was only two steps ahead of you, his hair in the hands of another stylist. You whispered something to her and she let go, walking away with the gel stick still in her hand. “Look forward.”

“Didn’t really strike me as the party type, _.” Your last name drawled off his lips, lazy and nonchalant. “Always stroke me as weird book girl in the corner type.”

“And what if I am?” You started backcombing his stiff strands, grimacing at the residue the gel was leaving and the way it was inevitably mixing with his sweat. “I can be both, can’t I?”

“Sure. You could be a writer, couldn’t you, _?”

Haechan could have sworn that even for a split second, a moment so small, so ­­blink and you’ll miss it, that you hesitated. Your hands shook with the energy of a tiny hummingbird flapping its wings, so swift it stopped as soon as it registered. “Nah.” You sounded different now, like you were feigning innocence to hide the fact that he had cornered you.

Mark and Haechan shared a knowing side-eye as Haechan felt firm pulls on his scalp. “You should probably get going, Mark.” His name fell solid in the air as it left your mouth, as certain as a command would be, and your peripheral vision caught the ends of his body as he packed up his things and left soundlessly.

It was only you and Haechan in the room now, the other stylists now long gone (a/n: how convenient!), leaving behind only the mess of a true makeup studio, products strewn haphazardly across the plastic dressers. You watched Haechan lick his lips on instinct in the mirror, only now noticing the various sticky notes adorned with Korean letters you weren’t too familiar with. “No, don’t. You’ll mess up the- oh, never mind.” You sighed, but it didn’t feel relieving at all, as if your muscles were constricting up again instead of letting go. Haechan talked at your reflection. “Sorry.”

A whirl of your arm sent his chair turning so he was now facing you, bending over to match his eye level. “Hold still.” As your breaths played out of sync, you were hyper aware of every sensation. The way your hairs stood on end. The smell of his musky cologne now filling your nostrils. Your bare legs suddenly burning hot, slightly brushing against the inside of his knees. Your eyes fighting to stay up at his face and not stray downwards. “That’s it.” You glazed his lips over with your applicator, gripping the tube and the arm of the chair in one hand.

You were used to these intimate positions, particularly with the job you had. But, as you realised you had just applied your own lipgloss onto him, a different feeling was dawning on you.

As you locked eyes, Haechan spoke, bold and ready. “It would be insane if you didn’t kiss me right now.”

The first noticeable sensation was the sticky mess that threatened to spread over the edges of both of your lips, lewd sucking noises now filling the air as you both dived deeper. Your tongue flitted over his lips and he groaned. “Fuck.” Readjusting in his chair, he slapped his thigh. “Sit, sit.”

“No.” Pulling away, you turned his chair once again to face the mirror and patted his shoulder. “Stand up.”

“W-wh…” Confused, he stumbled off anyway, wheels turning and the seat rolling away from the impact of his stand. He turned to face you.

“Good boy.” You smirked, lips now grazing the supple skin of his Adam’s apple, hands travelling down to his pants. “Is this what you wanted all along, baby?”

He stared, eyes slightly glassy, rimmed with smudged black kohl. Tilting his head back, he breathed soft moans onto your skin as you sucked on his neck, red blooming onto his olive skin. “A-ah.” Squeezing his eyes shut, he gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, I need you right now, Hyuck.” Something about using his real name felt too intimate, affectionate even, and he kissed you as you unbuckled him, semi-stiff cock hitting your clothed pelvis. Pushing him back onto the vanity, you angled yourself, him eventually helping you by giving you a small lift once he realised what was happening. Up on your toes, one leg slightly elevated, you let your walls suck him in all at once. “O-oh, fuck.”

He thrusted upwards, iron grip on your hips unchanging as you clawed at his back, the studs on his jacket rough underneath the pads of your fingers. The pleasure was spreading to your chest, rendering you speechless. “Oh my god, oh, fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop.” You begged, feeling your thighs slip against each other as your own arousal dripped down your legs.

“_? You sleeping right now?”

You awoke with a gasp, your phone clattering onto the tiles as you sat up. “Woah, take it easy. You alright?” He leant over to pick up your thankfully intact phone, shuffling closer with one arm outstretched and eyebrows gently raised.

Before you was Lee Jeno, blonde hair grazing the top edges of his round eyes, body bulging against the thin fabric of the white shirt. His waist accentuated by a thick leather belt, you noticed the outskirts of his toned stomach peeking out from under his top. Gulping, you nodded. “Y-yeah. Thanks, um…” His name died on your lips, as if some sort of curse prevented you from ever uttering it.

“Here. You sure you’re okay? You were sleeping pretty deeply, even in this noise. Sorry, I didn’t know if I should wake you…”

“No, no, it’s fine. I mean, I’m the crazy one, right? Sleeping at a party!” You tried to laugh it off, but a snort came out instead, and you blushed intensely. Oh my god. This is so embarrassing.

Unfazed, Jeno smiled, eyes turning into semicircles as he did. “It would be fine if you went home, you know.” He tilted his head, blonde hairs perfectly aligning to one side. The charisma radiating off him froze you in place, and you had to unglue your eyes from his face. “Ah, yeah.” Truthfully, your body felt like it had been through a dryer, and your joints were cracking like popcorn. You needed sleep for sure.

He jumped from the couch, letting you bounce slightly. Looking up, he extended his arm. “Come. I’ll drop you off.”

∞

You felt exposed. Not only because you were in the skimpiest outfit you owned, but because halfway through you and Jeno’s exit from the party, he had decided it was too cold and had changed into a hoodie and sweats, making him look less and less like a colleague or client or even friend and more like an idol sugar daddy. Nevertheless, you didn’t oppose his company, and you both rode back in silence, his knees knocking into yours occasionally, making your heart flip each time.

It’s not that he made you nervous, typically, despite your tiny little crush on him. But it was the way he woke you up right in the middle of your wet dream with another man, mere hours after his bandmate had you on your knees sucking him off. Every time he leaned over, your name leaving his lips so effortlessly as you stumbled over yours, your hands shook with the thoughts than ran wild in your brain. Did he know? You wondered, as he droned over some tiktok video, whether he knew about your sexual rendezvous with his bandmates, some real and some imagined, and the uneasiness in the pit of your stomach only grew as time passed.

It didn’t change as you had reached in your apartment, him somehow still on the topic he was on in the car, now manspreading onto your couch as you sat quietly across from him.

“But like, do you get it, _?” He sipped on the coffee you had made for him, marvelling at how quickly he drank something that usually took you an hour to finish. “Not bad. But why would he even do that, you know? Maybe she didn’t realise that he knew, but oh boy, he definitely knew.”

“Right.” To be clear, you had lost the plot ages ago, shamelessly thinking more about how close in proximity your bodies were, how comfortable he suddenly was around you, and what it all meant. “Do you want, uh, something else.” Shyly gesturing at his empty mug, you tucked hair behind your right ear, the movement unsteady.

He stared directly at you now, letting your anxiety rise and fill the space between your bodies. Holding the gaze, he dropped the mug in front of himself on the table, only then dropping his head dramatically in between his collarbones. You frowned.

“Sorry.” He muttered. “I must be annoying, right.”

“No, no, not at all!” Your voice was much more high-pitched than a woman with any self-esteem, but you kept going. “I mean, that’s fine, Jeno, really. It’s nice to see you, like passionate, and um…” Your babbling continued, and he only smirked in response. Your stomach turned as you suddenly watched as his eyes change, darken around the edges. Suddenly the lights in your apartment felt harsh, exposing, like the lights on a fresh crime scene.  

“_. I know about the fic.”

“What fic?” It was on instinct, but your ears starting ringing, blood running cold in your hands and feet. This isn’t real. This is another dream.

“Awww, don’t be embarrassed, baby. It’s okay to think those things about me.” He slumped backwards, one arm around the back of the couch, a subtle cocky smile starting to bloom across his face. “Markie told me how good you are anyway.”

“Jeno…” You fought the urge to gasp, your face burning from the inside out. “I, wait, um…”

“Shh, stop that.” He leaned forward with an almost-too-eager attitude, but he held himself back as he spread his knees wide, pointing at the ground. “Here.”

“Fuck, this isn’t happening.” Your hair whipped the sides of your face as you shook your head vigorously, slowly gazing up at his long frame as you did. You swore you heard him laugh quietly. “This is another dream, isn’t it.”

“So you dream about me?”

“No, it was about Hae-“ Jeno’s eyes widened before he guffawed loudly. “Fuck, _, you’re nastier than I thought. Was he good? Better than Mark?”

It was your turn to be shocked, eyes widening as he shook his head, letting his hair ride up his forehead. “Why, did you think it was a well-kept secret? Have you seen Mark? He glows with the radiance of a man who gets his dick sucked on the regular.”

“Jeno.” You wanted to be stern, but your voice came out kind of soft, almost like a whimper.

Jeno rolled his eyes. “Stop stalling, _. You heard me the first time.”

“But-“

“But what? If you want to stop, you can just say cherry. That’s what her Jeno told her to say, right?”

He had read the entire thing. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t happening.

As your body filled with an airy energy, you realised you were actually getting horny. He wanted you, maybe even needed you, and that filled your stomach with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. You slowly gulped, hearing the couch shuffle as you moved off it, walking over to him.

“Good girl. On your knees, baby.” You obeyed silently, eyes onto the floor as you waited.

“What are you waiting for, slut?” You felt Jeno’s rough hands grab the short strands of your hair, making you squeal like a tiny animal. “Do you wanna go home without tasting alpha’s big cock tonight, hmm?”

“Nnngh…n-no.” You eyes began to water at the force pulling on your scalp, hands fumbling around the waistband of his grey sweatpants. Your heart began to pound as you eyed the sizable bulge he was forming in his boxers.

“That’s it. Now hands behind your back.” As his length sprung out of the tight confines of his underwear, you cried out as it hit you square in the nose. “O-oh my god. Oh…fuck, wait, I don’t know.” Feeling Jeno’s unforgiving grip on your head keeping you dangerously close to him. you brought your palms to his knees, ready to push him away.

“What is it now?”

You shook your head, throat constricting already at the thought of his length inside your mouth. “It’s…well…fuck, it’s huge.”

As you looked up at him, you watched him give you a condescending smile. “Do you think alpha cares about you, baby, hmm? Why are you telling me all this? I don’t give a flying fuck. You either take all of me, or you leave. But you’ll leave a bad omega.”

Any other scenario where someone said something like this would have made you cringe, maybe even laugh, but today you felt your breath catch inside your lungs, as if someone was squeezing them extra tight. Word for word from the fic.

Whimpering, you folded both your palms around his girth, making him hiss. “Oh fuck, can’t even wrap my hands around it.” you whispered.

“You guys started without us?”

You jumped off your knees, your brain already forming the myriad of excuses before the initial shock settled and the words finally registered. “What the hell are you two doing in my apartment?” You glared at Mark, and now Haechan, who was slowly starting to come out of the shadows like a creepy stalker.

“Spare key.” The metal glinted as he hung the keychain off his fingers before grabbing it in midair. The same key you had handed Mark a few weeks ago, back when your little sessions were becoming daily (or multiple times a day) and you were sick of having to do the whole thing where he would have to come to your place an hour after you had arrived in case people were following him, or worse, taking pictures. He would have to wait into ungodly hours into the night on days you worked the night shift, which would let the spontaneous lust you had both gathered over the course of the day fizzle out by the time your tired body came home. You couldn’t be seen together outside of the workplace for various reasons, so having him come first carefully and you after had been working pretty well so far.

Except, well, for times like this.

“Mark!” You exclaimed, now fully facing him and closer to his lean frame, the waft of cologne hitting you as you trodded towards him. “Are you serious? You came here without my permission? And let someone else come too, at that!” Haechan acted insulted at this, mouth parting in mock surprise.

“I’m sorry, baby. But come on, Jeno had a great idea that we just couldn’t miss.” He brought one hand to stroke the side of your face, making you wince slightly. The ends of his fingers were like electricity, having more power over you than you liked to admit. You made eye contact with Haechan, and it was like you were back inside your dream. This. Wasn’t. Happening.

“I-wait…are you guys…seriously, what, you’re not saying-“

“Alright, talk over. Get over here, _. You’ve kept me waiting long enough.” Jeno let one arm hang lazily across the arm of your couch, another one stroking his length at an agonising pace. Your eyes felt like they were bulging out of your sockets, and your stomach churned nervously.

“Stop drooling and suck me off like a good omega. Come on, don’t be shy.”

You were on your knees again, Jeno’s cock at eye level, trying to ignore your newfound audience with a very telling tremble of your legs. Opening your mouth, you began to suck around his tip, the salty precum exploding on your tongue. You felt a hand on the back of your head, and you jerked away immediately. “Stop teasing. Come on, show your alpha and these dumb little betas what you’re good at.” You whined. “Fuck, fuck.” Choked cries filled the air as Jeno impaled you on his cock with one hand, his tip hitting the sensitive part of your throat and making you gag loudly.

As he pulled you off, strings of saliva attached him to your lips, embarrassingly making your core clench around nothing as you marvelled at how filthy this entire situation was. “So big.” Your voice was raspy, juices slathered over your chin as if he’d been fucking your mouth for hours. Jeno let you engulf him whole again, the sloppy sounds becoming more rhythmic as he bounced your face back and forth on him. “Hands off me and behind your back.” You balled your fists as you listened to him, closing your eyes as he groaned in pleasure. “So warm and tight. All for me, yeah?” You shook your head up and down as you hummed in response, looking up and him with your watery eyes.

You watched Jeno’s eyes drift away from you to something behind. “Ah, wait, let me get her off me first.” His voice changed now, you barely comprehended what was happening as you gasped for air post pull-off, before feeling a resounding slap on the back of your bare thighs. “Ah!”

“You think you can just leave me after sucking me off, baby? After all that we’ve been through.” You felt your skirt be pulled up, making you sit back on your heels. “Nuh-uh. Get up, let me see you.”

“Fuck, Mark, I didn’t me-oh!” This time he hit your ass, hard, jolting you onto Jeno’s thigh, his cock still grazing the side of your cheek. “Oh, fuck. Mmm.” You tried to shuffle forward but Jeno grabbed both of your wrists, pinning them on his thigh on one side. “Take it like a good girl.” The sting was immediately compounded by the feeling of our own arousal dripping down your thighs, the nasty realisation dawning on you that these assholes were recreating every scene that was written in that damn fic.

“Oh my god, I just wrote it, I didn’t…ah, Mark,” You whined as he squeeze a sensitive part of the plush on your backside. Between hits, you managed to sound out, “I, oh…ah, I didn’t write it for me – oh fuck! Nngh, didn’t mean it, oh my god.” Tears threatening to spill, you resorted to begging. “Mark, M- sir, please!”

“You called, baby?” Trying to turn your head uncomfortably back, you coughed. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean it?”

“What was that, hmm?” Two fingers in your sopping core and you gasped. “Ah, mmm, sorry, sir, ah…”

“So fucking wet. All from me punishing you like that. Is this what you liked all along, you dirty girl? To be our little sadist fucktoy.” One hand around your shoulders and another still knuckle deep inside you, he pulled you up so that your back hit his clothed chest, grip tight and unfaltering. You moaned, feeling the pads of his fingers curl up towards your g-spot. “S-sir, fuck, so good, so good, please…”

“Please what?”

“Please, want more.” You began to bounce your hips on his fingers, head floaty. A sharp slap across your face brought you back to reality, head whacking against the bony part of Mark’s upper chest. “Fucking whore, moving without permission like that.” Jeno was now gripping the ends of your chin, groin facing you once more. “Finish the job, baby. Don’t fucking care what he’s doing.”

“Yes, alpha.” You could have sworn you heard Haechan sigh, a mixture of pleasure and awe, but the moment passed as you took Jeno’s monstrous length once more, your jaw aching already. Mark took this opportunity to start fucking his fingers into you faster and faster. His teeth grazed your earlobe. “You like this, baby? Or you too busy tasting alpha cock to care?”

Your body squirmed under his arm, feeling his muscles bulge against you. Your head felt like jelly as Jeno pounded into you, one hand pushing your forehead down into place. You felt like a little doll being passed around, a slave to your desires, and you screamed as you came, liquid squirting out of your hole and all over your tiled floor as you did.

Your head began feeling floaty, but Jeno wasn’t giving in, and neither was Mark. You tried to get away from his fingers, core already sensitive from your orgasm, but he began to stroke your pussy once more, making you shake your head. Too much. The words were muffled around Jeno’s length, but they seemed to get the idea. “Just a bit more, baby. Tap me if you want to stop.”

Your hands in place, you let Jeno finish inside your mouth, cum leaking from the edges of your lips even as you swallowed diligently. “What a good omega.” Jeno cooed as you fell forward onto your hands, Mark finally releasing you. “Fuck, that was so good.”

“We’re not done yet, honey.” Your head whipped up, looking at Jeno towering over you, cock now hanging limp. “You haven’t taken your pretty boy-toy yet.”

Meeting Haechan’s eyes, you suddenly felt self-conscious at the way you were – skirt half up your ass, wet thighs and chin, a true testament to how much you had been used. Your eyes travelled to the unmistakable tent in his pants, dawning on you that he wanted you too. “H-Haechan.”

“Should’ve just told me you wanted me, baby? Do you know how many times I wanted to just bend you over and fuck you until you begged me to stop? Now I know what a perfect slut you are…”

“Fuck, Hyuckie…”

“Oh, baby.” He began to unzip his pants, hazelnut skin illuminated in the dim lights as you looked up, crawling over shakily. “Tell me what you want, sweetie.”

“Want you so bad. So…s-so much…”

He stopped in his tracks, eyes rolling and crossing his arms across his chest, much to your dismay. “Seems like you don’t want me that bad.”

“No, fuck, I do, I do, I-“

You felt Jeno’s hand land on the skin of your bare ass, making you flinch and look behind in surprise. “Go beg for cock, baby. I know much you need it. Don’t care who’s it is, do you?”

“N-no, I care, I do.” You weren’t sure why, but you suddenly felt frustrated, feeling like you were being teased unfairly. “I need all of you, please, please.”

“Use your words.” Mark’s voice was stern, unwavering, making you squeeze your eyes shut. You felt blood rushing to your head, impairing your ability to think.

“I felt alpha’s cockhead tease my entrance, and I sunk onto his thick length, crying out as I did. I felt so fu-“

“Oh my god, no, stop. Stop.” You tried getting up, but your legs wobbled, making you stumble forward ironically onto Haechan, his hands now on the sides of your arms, steading you. “You alright? What is that?”

“It’s the fucking fic, oh my god.” In the heat of the embarrassment, you hadn’t noticed Haechan drag you onto his lap, letting you hang your head over one shoulder as you buried your face in your hands. “So embarrassing.”

“Another man’s cock, possibly a beta, pushed inside me with my alpha. Nails dragging against my alpha’s muscular back, I cried, saying it was too much, the stretch ripping me apart, but alpha held me down, shushing me. Pain turned to pleasure and I threw my head back, letting my release spray all over the two men, passing out as soon as I did.”

“Holy shit. I hadn’t seen that part.”

“Yeah, it’s part two. She wrote that last night. Probably too horny to go to sleep, were you, baby?” Your tear-streaked face now facing Jeno, you shook your head. “No. I wrote it-“

“Don’t talk back to me. If you want to stop, we’ll stop. But don’t stop because you’re shy. Tell us what you want, baby.”

“Yeah, _. Don’t let us kinkshame you.”

Haechan now sucking on the thin skin of your neck, you gasped, eyes fluttering and your bare pussy now resting on his clothed bulge. “Fuck, uh, need to be fucked, filled, with both of you. Take another in my mouth, please, fuck, I wanna cu-“

“That’s better, slut. Begging to cum like the whore you are, rutting against him like a little bitch in heat. Go ahead, ride him. Do it properly or you’re not cumming again.”

Your hands scrambled for the zipper, Haechan throwing his head back as his hard, long length sprung out of his fly. He groaned and grabbed the back of your neck, squeezing hard as you pumped him impatiently. “Don’t tease.” Lifting yourself up, you aligned your soaking core to his tip, moaning in staccato as you let gravity let all of him be sucked inside you. “H-Hyuck, oh, fuck, so tight.”

He readjusted his hips, making your hair fall in front of your eyes and your hands slam, splayed out onto his upper chest. “Ah…” You moaned as you rode him, feeling every inch pound your insides, tip kissing your cervix with every thrust. Haechan guided your face to his and slammed his lips onto yours, letting your moans escape into his mouth.

Leaving love bites on your collarbone, Haechan dragged one hand under your shirt, rolling the ends of your nipples in between his thumb and forefinger. “H-Haechan, oh, wait-“ You cried out as he pinched the end, not hard enough to be excruciating, but enough to be uncomfortable enough to make you cry out, letting some of his length slip out. “Fuck! I’m sensitive, please.” You heard him shush you, your whines lost amongst the sounds of skin slapping skin as you rode him diligently, trying not to slow down as he played with your chest. “Just felt you squeeze around me, good fucking girl. You like having your body played with like a little brat, hmm?”

Jeno pulled your head back by your face, Haechan releasing your left nipple with an agonising pull, making you cry out. Bringing your upper body back to meet his, he wrapped one arm around the bottom of your stomach, firm and unforgiving. “You wanna take alpha too? Hmm?”

Incoherent sounds left your mouth as you felt Haechan’s cock slide out of you, tingling from the closeness of your orgasm. You felt a sharp smack at your core, making you arch your back. “Haaah…fuck! Yes, yes, s-sir!” Trying to shut your legs on impact, you felt Haechan pry them open again, and, with Jeno tipping you forward, you let him slide back in. Haechan wrapped one arm around the back of your shoulders, another on your lower back, pushing you down on him.

“Hghhh, alpha, please…” You weren’t sure what you were pleading for anymore, your voice sore from all that had happened already. Feeling Jeno’s massive bulb press against your core, your breath quickened. “Ah, fuck, what if it doesn’t fi-oh, ah…” You and Haechan moaned in unison, feeling the tight space get even tighter as Jeno pushed inside, inch by inch.

“Fuck, my little omega takes cock so good.” Tears ran freely down your cheeks, the stretch borderline unbearable but addictive. Your muscles sloppy, you gasped. “I’m so stretched out, alpha, please, can’t move…”

“Shh, you just lie there, baby, and cum when you need to, okay?” Jeno’s voice suddenly soft, you felt something warm spread across your stomach. “Yes, y-yes, alpha, trust you, wanna be good f’you, ah…” You cried softly as Jeno started sliding slowly in and out. “So good, alpha, so good, please, fuck me, oh god.” Jeno started picking up his pace, rendering you speechless, squeezing the back of Haechan’s neck as he jerked his hips up in sensitivity. “Oh my god, Haechan…” Burying your mouth into his neck, you felt a tap on your head as soon as you did, looking up in reflex. Haechan let go of your upper body, letting your hips roll against the two cocks now sliding in and out of you at a pace that was only getting faster. “Did you forget about me, honey?”

“N-no, Markie, ah…” Letting your chin rest against the arm of the sofa, Mark slid his cock easily down and out of your throat, letting the saliva messily drip all over his aching length. “Fuck, what a good cockslut. You think you can get me off again, hmm? Swallow it all like a good girl?”

You nodded, but a sharp smack to your ass made you shake and lose your balance, Jeno pulling you back onto his chest again. “Did you ask alpha for permission, brat?” You cried as Jeno pounded you ruthlessly, shaking your head and mumbling apologies in between moans. “What do you want, baby? Use your words. Or I swear to you I’m not letting you cum.”

“Mmm, wanna suck Markie’s cock, alpha, ah! And…swallow his cum, oh, fuck!” Haechan pushed his length harder into you as Jeno pushed your hips down. “Fuck, alpha, fuck, want you and H-Hyuckie to fuck me while I do it, please, please…” You sobbed as Jeno released you, seemingly happy with your words as he snapped his hips into you. “Oh my god…” Your eyes rolled to the back of your eyes, feeling Mark bringing your near his cock as the pleasure made your legs vibrate. “Hang on, baby. Cum with my cock in your mouth.”

“Alpha, cum, please!” You cried, voice disappearing as you choked around Mark’s thick length. Jeno tapped the back of your hips, mumbling something in support just as soon as you saw white, feeling your own juices spray uncontrollably and your hole constrict as you came around both of them. Haechan cursed as he filled you with his own thick release, Jeno pressing you down as he came into you seconds later. Mark used your mouth as you weakened gradually, muttering sweet praises as he shot his load down your throat, the bitter taste waking you out of your trance.

As you heaved, you wrapped your arms around Haechan, feeling multiple hands rub up and down your bare back. “That’s a good girl. Good job, baby.” You nodded, closing your eyes and drifting off, your body and mind well and truly spent.

∞

“Hey, you alright?” Chenle looked at you with a hint of concern, not clear whether it was directed at you or at his makeup that was now looking a little bit unusual. You shook your head with the tiniest movements, tapping his cheek again with a pale blush. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t move your head.”

“Fine. You just seem different today.”

“I’m okay. Just a low energy day.” Beside you, Haechan and Jeno shared the smallest side glance, Mark smirking at himself as he changed behind the mirrors.

“Big night?” Chenle smiled at you through the mirror as you scurried around the drawers, looking for the angled eyeshadow brush, his hands adjusting his hair to his liking. You sighed, a true muscle fatigue-likes feeling spreading through your body and getting worse with each client. You were actually so tired, and, unprofessionally, not hiding it very well.

Then again, you were probably doing something that would be considered generally much more unprofessional, so you didn’t let it bother you too much.

“You could say that.” You slammed one drawer a little too hard, apologising immediately to the drawer and then rolling your eyes in frustration and embarrassment. “I-I think I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick. I’ll be back.”

As your heels clacked away, getting softer and softer, Chenle got up, letting the salon cape fall away from him. “What’s up with her?” He mumbled to no one in particular before walking away. Mark soundlessly nodded to Jeno and Haechan, a nonverbal assurance that he would be outside, and Jeno patted Haechan’s shoulder as left shortly after, leaving only Haechan in that small backstage room.

As Haechan stared at his reflection in the mirror, makeup done and hair only half, he opened his lips, letting some tension escape his body.

He thought about you.

How maybe his little white lie didn’t technically hurt anyone in the end.

Technically.

Technically, you were the one who got fucked (in a good way) and got the money for translating poison.

Technically, you did write it. Just not from scratch.

Technically, you were also into that.

But so was he.

He remembered how embarrassed he was when you first found out, and what you said to make him feel better.

“Oh Haechan, don’t worry about it. Don’t let me kinkshame you.”

How right you were in the end.

[creatingblackcharacters]

Antiblackness Isn't Sexy!

As #Kinktober is upon us, I want to take this time to remind everyone that certain things may not carry the same "sexy" connotation for everyone! This isn't just a "your yuck is my yum" situation, this is a "hey, you're being racist" situation. Now if that's what you enjoy, I can't tell you otherwise. But if you'd like to be considerate towards your Black readers and peers, here are *some* (not all!) things to keep in mind:

1) Objectification is not respect. You can think Black people are sexy- I certainly do! That does not mean treating us like sex toys. An example: if your first thought when you look at a Black male character, is "This'll be good smut, I bet his dick is gigantic"- if your first thought is about their genitals and that they're a good fuck... That is weird. Abeg. Nothing else stood out to you? Just ye olde "Black men have big dicks?"

There's a racist and dehumanizing history behind the oversexualization of Black men, Black bodies in general. Sure, big penises are not insulting or bad, but just as you don't want to be brought down to your bits... Don't do it to us. We can be sexy without being objectified. You can think we're sexy without objectifying us!

2) Making your Black character more sexually aggressive (if fic: -than their canon counterpart). Your Black character having a high libido is fine, but if you've essentially written a sex pest, especially in comparison to a nonblack counterpart... Why? Why do you think that they're automatically the one that would be like that? One example of that is the whole "step on me mommy" thing with confidently sexy Black women. What makes you deem she's the "aggressive" one? She could be a gentle pillow princess.

3) Making your Black character more physically hulking (if fic: -than their canon counterpart). They don't look like that, you know they don't look like that, and you need to consider why you felt the need. Especially in comparison to their nonblack counterparts.

4) Chains and whips, Specifically the large, hulking Black or Brown character in chains held by a skinny white character. Especially if they're like a werewolf. You know why these visuals can be questionable! I know the intended symbolism is supposed to be steamy and animalistic, a bodice ripper deal. But think about it- how often have you seen the opposite- with a skinny Black person holding a hulking, animalistic white person in chains? What imagery are we evoking when we draw this, constantly? We are not animals, we are not raging, uncontrollable sex beasts.

Consensual sex and kink are supposed to involve respect between all parties. Respect, communication, vulnerability, and trust. You can have an interesting, sexually active, high libido, kinky Black character without morphing them a stereotype to be used for the sexual satisfaction of white viewers. Just as white people that do kink are humans with inner lives, so are we. Do better by your Black characters, and your Black readers, by showing us that respect. 👍🏾

[jackoshadows]

It's so confusing and weird that Bridgerton introduced in world racism both with Lady D and Simon in season one of the show and in Queen Charlotte and at the same time they also want the audience to accept that somehow Marina Thompson or the dark skinned Indian Kate Sharma has more privilege and power than Penelope Featherington?

Kate Sharma was also poor, so much more than the Featheringtons. She depended on Lady D to host them. The Sharmas were looked down on by the ton because Mary Sheffield married an Indian. The Sharmas were disowned and ostracized by the Sheffields.

Kate was also an unmarried spinster. No one was asking Kate to dance. As much as Kate wanted love and romance and to dance at a ball wearing pretty dresses, she got none of that. She was also the woman on the sidelines watching as others danced and fell in love.

Racism and colorism is also very much a thing in eurocentric notions of beauty considering the setting and characters of Bridgerton is 99% white.

We got so little of Kate's backstory, of who her parents where - we didn't even get their names!! - of the trauma (explained for both Simon and Anthony using flashbacks) that had Kate overlooking her own happiness for that of her sister.

Despite bragging nonstop about the diversity of Bridgerton the showrunners thought that the white Featheringtons needed more screentime in season 2 rather than the South Asian family.

And Kate was planning on going back to India and work as a governess to pay for her livelihood. Because, you know, there's more honest ways of being a 'working woman' than running the equivalent of the regency 'Daily Mail' dragging other women down. The modiste Madame Delacroix, Kate planning to teach and Sienna in season one are all working to pay a living. Black, brown and lower class women looking to alleviate poverty.

And considering how much harder Kate already had it as an outsider in the ton, it wouldn't have been easy with Penelope using her gossip rag to describe the unmarried Indian woman as ' a Spinster of a beast'. What did Kate do to Penelope to warrant this? Nothing. Just a way for Penelope to make money at Kate's expense.

That's the thing I dislike the most about the way the character of Penelope is written on the show - her victims don't deserve her vitriol and are often in much worse circumstances than her. From Kate Sharma to the unnamed seamstress who apparently lost all her customers because Penelope wrote falsely about their work in the her tabloid as a bribe for Madam Delacroix.

And I think that's what I find problematic about the writing of the show and even the discourse surrounding it - when characters like Marina Thompson (the poor black cousin who would have ended up destitute on the streets because of Penelope) and Kate Sharma arguably have it far worse than Penelope Featherington as per the show's writing and yet we are supposed to have the most sympathy for Penelope because her crush Colin didn't love her back and she's a curvy white woman?

I guess that's the difference between how I perceive this world and these characters as a woc and the majority white female audience for this show and it's such a huge disconnect for me. I guess this is also partly because the show has this badly written and 'strangely toothless racism' as Ash Sarkar beautifully put it. As in the racism is treated in this world as a little problem solved by handing out a few titles to black people instead of being a white supremacist ideology which treated black and brown people as inferior, serfs and slaves.

From what little we got from season 2, Kate Sharma definitely did not have it easy navigating the ton as a poor outsider and that certainly contributed to her poor choices. She is also put through the wringer, treated like the other woman, is miserable for several episodes, had to apologize again and again and nearly die before Edwina forgives her!

In contrast Penelope's actions have hurt so many and yet she gets a pass by both the show and a fandom that wants Colin to grovel before her because of a single offhand remark and because he didn't return her affections.

Also making it clear here that I am not comparing Penelope to the male characters who always get the better writing, flaws and all. I am comparing Penelope to the female characters of colour - Kate Sharma and Marina Thompson.

I mean, Marina Thompson gets so much vitriolic and sexist hatred for not having told Colin Bridgerton the truth of her pregnancy. How dare Marina hurt this privileged white man Colin Bridgerton. When she was desperate to not end up destitute on the streets or get raped by old white men. And yet Penelope gets a pass for hurting women like Marina and Kate.

It continues a trend of white female characters never being held to the same standard as female characters of colour. Daphne sexually assaults Simon in season one and that was not even addressed on the show. Male rape is apparently no big deal because Daphne wanting children is what's important. It's Simon who has to apologize and within one episode resolve his trauma and accept being a father. This is despite both Daphne and Penelope having more screentime and more writing that builds their character unlike the stick thin writing given to Kate Sharma in season 2.

So yeah, I will be checking into season 3 to watch the ten minutes we get with Kate Sharma since we got so little of her in her own season and it's so singular to get dark skinned south Indian characters in a period drama romance like this. It's just the way the writing on the show, the production and even the fandom treats it's characters, especially characters of colour has been disappointing to say the least.

[mammoth-clangen]

Itty bitty reference of everyone bc i am Tired of colourpicking from the previous page (and bc everyone has some semblance of consistent design now XD )

I drew this between posting Moon 3 (part 2 and 3) so sorry for the lack of Small Boi, he will be added when i get time + when he has a name revealed!

Fun notes!

- Poppy's short tail and Dart's nub-butt are both caused by the manx gene, Dart just has a higher expression! (it's dominant so Pine doesn't have it at all)

- Burnet and Quiver have the exact same eye colour and very close skin tone

- Pine's mullet will get bigger as he grows but it's important to note even as a baby bc i think it's funni

- Poppy looks like a unit but is mostly fluff, Burnet is actually stocky

- age can be at least partially determined by how yellow someone's teeth are lmao

- Quiver's angry eyes started as a joke but stuck around bc it's fun to draw

- Pounce (and Lilac to an extent) is the only character with dark brown pads bc of a silly headcannon I have regarding fully white characters being polar adapted, most characters will continue to have pinkish red ones! (except new lil guy bc he has melanism)

- I like to imagine Burnet isn't piebald but actually has a somatic cell mutation similar to bloodmark horses. Why? idk, i think it's fun, and also genuine piebaldism comes with health issues

- everyone has different ear tufts bc i think that's cute cx

- Lilac is tall

has ANYONE noticed the sclera thing yet? No? ok

[mikewheeleranti]

hogwarts legacy characters as tropes

includes: sebastian sallow, ominis gaunt, garreth weasley, amit thakkar

a/n: to the sebastian sallow stans, i'm gonna SPARE you. in this, anne is fine and he doesn't get into the dark arts.

sebastian sallow:

found family/friends to lovers

when you came to hogwarts, you came lonely. when you looked around after getting sorted into your house, everyone was sitting with somebody they knew, chatting away. planning to walk out, you're stopped short when a girl with short brown hair leaves her table to comes up to you. "hi, i'm anne! i couldn't help but notice you didn't have somewhere to sit, come by me and my brother, if you want to."

oh pls after that it was history, anne wasn't letting you go

ever since that dinner with anne and her twin, sebastian, in first year you were done for. sebastian's freckles and the way he blushed lightly in embarrassment when his sister would tease him for something made you swoon. ominis and anne taunted you about this endlessly, making you hide your face every time without fail.

anne definitely set you two up

anne told you many times that he did, in fact, like you back but it was hard to believe. he treated you like a normal friend, and those times you caught him staring at you he was just zoning out. so, pushing your feelings aside, you got ready to go to hogsmeade with anne, ominis, and sebastian. it took you and sebastian 15 minutes at honeydukes to realize the other 2 weren't coming. at the end of the day, you had confessed after you spilled butterbeer on his white shirt. "shit, im sorry! merlin, this is embarrassing. spilling a drink on the guy you like.." yea if u think you've seen him red you hadn't until that day.

you alr know those friendsgivings HIT

thanksgiving at hogwarts always made you a bit homesick, that feeling didn't come in 7th year with your "family." coming back to the slytherin common room after dinner, you stayed up all night talking with sebastian, who coincidentally got plastered with anne that night. " 'm gonna marry you one day" as he rested his head on your chest and dozed off, leaving your heart racing.

ominis gaunt:

forbidden romance

ominis' family would not approve of you, that is something he knew for a fact. his family was cold, distant, and in his eyes, evil. when he was younger, he would fantasize about escaping with his aunt, noctua gaunt, and moving somewhere far way. that wasn't possible anymore, but he still had you. you were his safe space, his place of hiding, and you meant everything to him. which is exactly why he had to hide you from anyone who could report your relationship to his family. many people warned you about being so close with a gaunt, but you both knew better.

many late nights sneaking around the castle and secret touches

you and ominis were once again sneaking around the castle, desperately trying to avoid peeves. his wand was leading both of you in the direction of the undercroft, linked arm in arm. when you two had gotten to the spot you made years ago, you would spend hours basking in each others presence. in the late hours of the night, ominis would make up for his lack of vision through sight and memorize everything about you. gentle touches along your face, kisses along your cheeks, forehead, eyelids, even. this man wants nothing more than to absolutely worship you, he thinks of you as his saving grace.

expect fear of his family

to put it lightly, ominis is terrified at the idea of his family ever finding you. he will do anything in his power to protect you. when the new fifth year tells him they need his help with sebastian, you are not coming, and that's final. he doesn't know what dangers may lie there. going back to the undercroft, he promises you many things, promises he will hold to his heart forever. "i will always protect you, my love" with a kiss as light as a feather below your ear. "you are so perfect" with your foreheads leaned against each other, and his hand rubbing your back.

garreth weasley:

good girl x bad boy (even if you aren't a girl)

you were never one to break rules in any way, always trying to keep up with your academics. you weren't at the top of your class, but you were up there and you had good relationships with your professors. which is why it was a little surprising that garreth weasley, the schools infamous "troublemaker" was talking to you right now. it was almost more surprising he knew your name. "y/n, help me out. please." "weasley, i am not stealing a dumb feather for you, please go back to making your wiggenweld potion."

lowkey cringed having to write troublemaker

also a bit of enemies to lovers

you were already annoyed enough that day, and the last thing you needed was weasley dragging you into his antics. though, fate was not on your side when you were walking out of the library and got dragged into a row of bookcases. "what the hell? let go of-" you were quickly cut off when garreth wrapped his hand around your mouth and kept you against a bookcase until you heard an angry professor sharp storm past. now whispering, you ask "what the hell is wrong with you?" just for him to cup the side of your face and kiss your cheek before smirking and walking away. "thank you, darling!"

it's definitely unexpected when you start dating, but not unwelcome.

his rebellious nature started to grow on you, not that you would do some of the stuff that he does around the castle. truth be told, he does find it adorable when you come up to him and proudly told him you skipped one class period. your professors and classmates alike are definitely shocked when they see you two laughing quietly together in the back of the class, but you convince him to study more and the improvement in his grades does not go unnoticed by your professors.

loves embarrassing you in public

he would never push your limits too far, but he loves teasing you in public whenever he can. he was always convinced he wouldn't be into pda, but then he met you. how could he resist from it if you were going to squirm away like that? if you told him you were uncomfortable with this he wouldn't, of course. but if you let him he would have the time of his life very obviously pulling you into an empty room when you were on your way to class.

amit thakkar:

academic rivals

amit frustrated you. you were at the top of your class for a while now, until he got out of second place and replaced you. this grabbed your attention on him, constantly glaring at him in class and in the hallways, which made you fall behind more. what was even more infuriating is that he didn't do anything more than give you a small smile in class. in fact, he admired you and your wit, and your dedication to staying at the number one spot drew him into you.

since he's the sweet man he is, he'd probably lead to your friendship

after you finally got your spot back, you didn't stop studying. there was no way anyone was going to take your spot again. astronomy was almost over, and the rest of the class was given to spend freely while professor shah handed back the most recent test. "good job, y/n." smirking, you looked at the red 98 on the parchment, turning over to amit to ask what he got. "95, what about you?" your smile could have lit the sky in replacement to the stars, he thinks. "98, maybe i should tutor you sometime." when you walk out of the room, he puts the parchment in his bag, glancing at the bold "100" on it.

people were definitely confused when you went from glaring at him to holding his hand

you were joking when you said you would tutor him, but he held your word to it. it was the week before exams and he actually had to help you grasp the fact that aries is not just a straight line. you could've gotten this long ago, but you noticed yourself becoming entranced with him. how was he so patient with you, and so kind? when you finally got the idea, you went into the exam ready. when you got one point higher than him on the exam, he congratulated you with a tight hug, and when you separated, you weren't very separated. leaning in, before your lips connected you said one last thing to him before summer. "don't think i'll go easy on you next year, you better write to me."

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

So With Spider-Punk: Arms Race #2 right around the corner: .......I'm gonna say it

Hobie's New Design is Bad.

Incredibly bad. Like 'leave it in the drafts homie' bad. Fuck it, I'm about to start using words I ain't even know I knew - this shit is EGREGIOUS.

It ain't cute.

It's bad. It's ugly, bro. His hair is serving Coral Reef And I'm tired of pretending it's not.

And it feels SO subtly anti-black.

[A very SHORT essay where I basically say: Oh hell naw]

For one I feel like they're stripping Hobie's black features. Or toning them down a LOT.

Even if we aren't counting the blue eyes they gave in him in Issue One.

Now, over time Hobie's looked many different ways - but throughout his runs his features were 100% supposed to be interpreted as black.

And while his newer comic runs tone that down a bit, it still looks natural.

And his hair has ALWAYS been natural. So much so that it's one of the defining features of movie Hobie as well.

This.... Isn't that. Not only has his natural hair been shaved and died, but it was done into a style made to DIRECTLY ripoff an already popular WHITE character - Gwen Stacy.

And once again, BLUE EYES???

And it's so bizarre!!!! Cause his design hasn't changed, but it REALLY HAS!! LIKE LOOK-

This is supposed to be the same guy, making the same expression. This is not the same fucking guy.

They have the same brow shape and lip shape and nose, but that's not the same fucking guy and I can't articulate why.

Looking at his profile highlights this way more, especially when putting him next to Movie Hobie.

Notice how ALL of Comic!Hobie's features are RAZOR sharp?

Whereas, Movie!Hobie's features, his features are actually fairly soft.

His nose and lips are curved and soft - even his pronounced brow bone is still curved, DESPITE him having a sharper face shape than Comic!Hobie.

That's because Movie Hobie has Black People Features.

Comic Hobie DOESN'T.

I wish I was joking when I say -

I feel like they're genuinely using Johnny Storms model and coloring it brown.

It's just... too bad not too be.

This redesign is atrocious. It's worse than the Attack on Titan manga.

And from what we can tell - this is a HOBIE SPECIFIC problem. Riri Williams - IronHeart - looks FINE.

Not to be dramatic, but this is very much a disappointment. It's honestly impressive how they managed to fumble the design bag SO EASILY.

Marvel Comics only leases Hobie Brown character to Sony. Hobie is still their IP - they can plunder his SONY design as much as they like, so long as it looks reasonably Not Identical.

And still they decided to do a 180, tone down his black features, unnatural his hair, and give him blue eyes.

Marvel. Pack it up. You're chopped.