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ryssbelle · 2 years

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Let Wild feel his feelings: The Essay~

So yesterday at 1 am I made this post I prefaced this post with the phrase: "Can we please let Wild experience emotions without calling him sus." In that post I said I would write an essay explaining not only why I said that, but why I think the Wild is Dink theory is most likely false.

Also I say this at the end but let me preface this is all in good fun, I'm not trying to attack anyone or say they're terrible or awful for believing the theory, and yes I do poke fun but it's all out of love. Go ahead and have your thoughts and feelings just like Wild has his, and make the content you wanna see in the world.

Take this with a grain of salt and have fun.

@thunderpetal @aspen-of-the-gentry @an-error @knine-nights

And with that, This is the Essay:

Part 1: The Theory

For those of you who do not know or have not been in the loop starting from about Sunset Part 5 there has been a theory that Wild, aka the Hero of the Wild, has been infected or possessed by Dink, aka Dark Link, the main villain of Linked Universe. Let's go over the supporting evidence in the next parts we will reexamine the evidence under the counter argument:

The Inciting Panel:

These are the panels that first sparked the debate, after defeating the massive dark oozy creature, Wild is seen rubbing his face, and it is theorized a little bit of Dink was in his eye and is now in his system. You could argue he is just rubbing his cheek and not his eye, but we're not here to argue at this stage of the Essay.

Using my powers of MS Paint Zoom, I zoomed in closely to look at Wilds face before the wipe:

You can see an off colored patch of shading, now one could call this shading, but one could also call this, a surprisingly pale splotch of Dink.

Continuing with the evidence:

He run:

Instead of talking his feelings, he run away, this is highly unusual because-

As you can see on this page he emerges from no where, as if he knew where they'd be, as if he could track them, as if he were a trained survivalist who has learned to track people and things when in unfamiliar places.. Or perhaps it is because he is Dink, following the dark scent of the magic evil he put on Twi. How else could he track them, the known survivalist who can track things.

And shortly after this- Wild experiences- an emotion

Denial and Anger, two of the 5 stages of grief, this is unusual because the only acceptable stages of grief are depression and acceptance, only a crazed lunatic hell bent on the destruction of our heroes would act in such a fashion to the colorful man child!

(I realize I am poking fun a bit, but just know it's out of love, its all /j /nm)

For this next piece of evidence I'd like you to reference or have to the side the entirety of Sunset Part 8 for which I have linked.

The entire page starts with Four, the colorful hero of the four sword, splitting for the first time in front of Wild, and really for the first time in front of any of the chain. The entire ensuing pages consist of an argument between all the Colors as they fight against one another Wild desperately asking for answers as to what in the world is happening while the weight of his mentor/brother's condition and his past failures weigh on his heart and shoulders. With the continued yelling Wild gets frustrated grabbing his head his past failures coming to mind he throws down his sword as he laments his inability to protect those he cares about in the moment, getting chastised by the colors before storming off, reminded of his fallen comrades.

Obviously I don't have to tell you how this is related to Dink

We then broach our final piece of evidence in the most recent comic:

After a pat on the back from the group leader and a thank you Wild leaves with a 'sinister' grin on his face, covered in shadows with Four looking at him suspiciously.

All of this culminates in the conclusion:

Part 2: Wild is not Dink.

Now Let us reexamine the Evidence from a counter perspective, I know I was kind of making fun when showing the supporting evidence and in this section you will see why. Let us begin with the first piece of evidence.

The Inciting Panel and the splotch:

After doing a sick backflip, freezing time, and whacking a giant metal creature 6000 times this man is SWEATING, he's wiping the sweat from his cheek, maybe even a tear, have you ever done any kind of excessive activity, it is tiring and makes everything feel awful and he's just done that 4 times over basically. The Splotch? Thats shading and line thickness.

Evidence 2:

He runaway

At this point it's been somewhat established that Wild does seem to like to keep to himself, not only that War's knows the identity of the wolf that sticks near Wild, he is aware of their connection and aware of how Wild must be feeling now that one of the people he's closest two is in bad condition, so Wild storming off while Wind dwells on said condition is not something unusual for him nor any of the chain.

Plus War's knows more than anyone what this situation is like, he more than likely had to deal with it 100 times over in the war, as friends and comrades fell one by one in the fight against evil, and knows better than anyone that engaging Wild in this state would lead to an emotional explosion on both ends which leads us to-

Sunset part 7 and 8:

Wild, someone who is close to those who know the location of the village and is used to at least finding a safe place in an unfamiliar environment due to waking up without memories 100 years in the future and needing to explore and find safe places on his own, walks into frame from a random alley. This alley is also one of the places where Wild is replaced with Dink in some theories, but I will address that in part 3

Now I have actually addressed Wilds actions in these next few panels before believe it or not while disproving this theory!

I've added the panels from part 8 as well to help with this part of the discussion, but as I said in presenting the evidence:

Wild is in grief Twilight may not be dead yet but he is dying Wild is being told that he's dying, and Wild doesn't want to believe it. Strange right? That the man who lost everyone he held dear at the ripe age of seventeen, who saw his brother- his mentors legacy already in the divine wolf that guided him, would be upset that that same wolf, that same man who now not only guided the wild child on his original journey, but guides him now, laughs with him, and fights by his side, that this man he now calls his brother is laying upstairs dying while he sits there unable to do anything. Who wouldn't be upset?

And maybe you don't think you're saying that he can't be upset, but by using the anger he feels at not being able to help, by using his denial in watching yet another friend die while he is there unable to help as evidence, as a way to say, that this man is possessed by Dink, is invalidating any other reaction to this kind of grief. It sends the message that in fiction people are not allowed to experience any other kind of reaction other than sadness, than acceptance. You either accept that he's dying or you cry that it's happening and neither of those are invalid either but those aren't the only reactions it is the five stages of grief for a reason.

Not only is Wild grieving, so is Four, they are both exploding in anger, exploding in denial and sadness, both confused both hurt, which leads us to the final piece of evidence to rebut:

After giving a rousing speech which invigorates everyone and gives them back a smidge of hope and courage, Wild walks off, the light of the window facing his back as he walks into the dark hallway as Four eyes him.

What do I think is happening here? Wild tired, but he's hopeful, he's momentarily content, but he is still most likely hurt, his mind is still full and racing, his heart still heavy, but now he is with his brothers and he has hope.

Why is Four looking at him like that? Well for one Wild pushed him around, yelled at him, and had a breakdown in from of him not 20 minutes ago, but Four, in four separate forms, had also yelled at, chastised, and broke down in front of him.

So what do I think will happen? Most likely, a real discussion about the prior events, and an apology from both sides.

They're heroes of courage, but they're also Human (and ye they're Hylian but they're regarded as human as well)

And as a side note, if Jojo planned to have it revealed that Wild was in fact Dink in disguise and or possessed by Dink, why give him a whole chapter to himself just to think, to regroup, and to calm down? Why not have that as a precursor, have that as a hint, showing his dark turn? Why have him find hope and come to terms with the situation so that he could fix it and help his brother if he was in fact evil and was aiming for the heroes downfall?

It wouldn't make sense as an author not to have his solo chapter as foreshadowing unless Wild isn't Dink.

Now to part 3: Dink

Here we examine Dink himself as he appears in the Linked Universe comic, not just when he appears, but how and why.

Now to start his first appearance isn't really as himself but as infected blood, which is black in color and causes increased strength and aggression in monsters that wouldn't normally be as strong or aggressive as they are

Well it's more of a purple actually but you get the point.

Possession would be evident if he was indeed possessed.

Now for Dink posing as Wild.. Thats also a no

in the comic any disguise Dink has takes on the color scheme of the original dark Link, which is, charcoal skin and blood red eyes, this goes for the games as well, so if it was Dink posing as Wild it wouldn't at all look like Wild at least in color scheme.

Now lets get to Dink's motives:

So far his motives are pretty simple, destroy the chain, kill them, stab them, maybe bite them, he hasn't been trying to steal them or trick them he just wants them to suffer. If he were to somehow possess or disguise himself as Wild why not, I don't know, stab them as Wild, Wild will then be on the hook for it, so not only will Twi be dying (or dead if he stabbed Twi again), but someone else could be hurt, and they'd think they'd have a traitor in their midst.

Dink doesn't seem to be one to make elaborate plans as we've seen so far his plan is just "I will hit it, oh it didn't die..... I WILL HIT IT AGAIN!!"

also im not counting Twi's coma dream as a dark link appearance

Though @kr4zykoala did point something out to me yesterday, there is one person who is devious and elaborate and would def disguise himself as someone else for the long haul...

This twink ^^^^^

In conclusion...

Wild is not Dink, he's just grieving, also remember that time Wind was apparently Dink too?

In any case this is mostly in good fun, you all can have your theories but I am not at all convinced on Wild being Dink, if you gotta stretch the truth to make it work then it's not that great of a theory tho it does make excellent fanfiction if you do it right, apparently @sheepiemenace has one in the works for Wind and its allegedly excellent

anyway take what I say with a grain of salt and have fun!

#linked universe #lu wild #lu dink #dark link #salty essay #wild is not dink my guys #but its a fun theory #its just the precursors arent there #and its getting rid of character substance for drama and thats blegh #but like a i said this is mostly in good fun #while also debunking #cuz it does legitimately bug me when Wild is labeled as possessed or put of character #for acting like a normal person and IN CHARACTER #cuz people sometimes equate his fanon characterization to his canon #or they use their interpretation to justify why its wrong that hes acting that way #but like its not wrong #theres no wrong way to write grief on a character #not everyone experiences grief the same way #i think with Wilds ptsd and his grief his response is completely in character #also yeah i dont think many people know how dink works but then again we dont entirely know how exactly jojo will portray him completely #also a lot of people are new #and have only played botw #and other than being a costume #dink isnt in botw #and again im not cpunting the twilight princess dream sequence #cuz thats a dream and not a real appearance of the character #and it wasnt even dark link as in Dink it was a dark link as in evil Link #but ye those be my thoughts #enjoy :)

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daydreamerdrew · 1 year

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Captain Marvel Adventures (1941) #45

#not Billy’s true nemesis- parenting #I actually think it’s really interesting how Captain Marvel’s issues with women go beyond being freaked out when they hit on him #he’s legitimately afraid of and avoids overbearing aggressive women #and he takes that you shouldn’t hit women to a comical level that creates problems when he has to fight female criminals #which is treated like a legit weakness as not as a respectable thing #this is a part of the comedic ethos of the character’s stories #which takes the approach that you don’t have to take the character seriously all of the time #and so doesn’t avoid making him look goofy even though he himself is not a goofy wise-cracking person #and I interpret those issues from a characterization perspective as a manifestation of the fact that he’s an adult with a child’s heart #which is different from just being a regular adult #so while he’s not an immature person he has some immaturity that’s unique to him #because Billy does not have those issues with women and has poked fun at Captain Marvel for them before #this story is making clear to me that Billy can have his own issues with overbearing women #in the form of being uncomfortable with being parented #which tracks from how this version of him was orphaned as an infant and then raised by an abusive and neglectful uncle #who eventually abandoned him after stealing his inheritance #so Billy has no positive associations with parenting and is ok with taking care of himself #his positive relationships with adults are with the best big brother ever Captain Marvel and his employer Sterling Morris #as well as the Wizard Shazam who’s mentoring could be framed in a parental light but is in actuality very distant from Billy #and not involved in his day-to-day life #wait now I’m thinking about how all of those characters are men and how Billy reacted to Mary getting the power of Shazam too #which was to be like but Mary can’t have the powers because she’s a girl which demonstrated a strong belief in gender roles #that was then affirmed by the story revealing that she actually had her own distinct different girl powers #and then he had a story in which he was essentially wrestling with his own assumptions about women’s minds #like that they were naturally suspicious and therefore that their suspicion about something was not to be taken that seriously #and his deep adoration for and faith in his sister which did ultimately win out when she was proven right and also saved him #fawcett comics #billy batson #my posts #comic panels

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thornshadowwolf · 2 years

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New hot take I saw (and got yelled at for even asking about) is that it's transphobic and enbyphobic to not HC a character as non-binary despite the fact that the creator has said the character wasn't meant to be non-binary (but is ok with ppl interpreting them that way)

#this is about Party Poison #and this isn't anti-nonbinary-Party I do HC them as non-binary #it's just... such a weird take lol #like Gerard said they don't view party as non-binary and they weren't written to be but they like seeing other people's interpretations #like to me it sounds like 'I did not intend for this character to be NB but you are free to interpret them that way that's cool'#not 'this character is explicitly not male and thinking of them as such is wrong'#like. 'I don't view the character this way but I don't mind seeing you interpret them that way' to me sounds like #'you are allowed to interpret the character' right???#like I know there is an issue with ppl taking non-binary characters as 'open to interpretation' but this doesn't seem like that at all?#since. they literally said 'you can interpret them however you want DESPITE the fact that I did not view or intend them as NB'#anyway.#the person seemed super high strung and argunentative so I'm not even going to try to apologize and ask for a legitimate explanation #also note just so all the info is there: the person was specifically mad about ppl HCing them as male (trans or cis)#ThornShadow.said #edit: checked their pinned and bio on their main while I considered blocking them and it seems like they're just Like That #I think it's a kinnie thing cuz they were like 'don't tag my Party Poison stuff as kin and don't misgender them in front of me'#also possible they have a Party Poison alter who that would be misgendering #anyway I just blocked them and ofc if you run into the post or something don't harass them about it or anything

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tiktaaliker · 2 years

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action figure rei. possibly one of the morphing ones that have human form rei transform into blue mew rei or blue zorua rei. maybe BOTH hahaha.

holy shit that is a HILARIOUS concept. maybe there are like different runs with different interpretations (shiny zoura, shiny mew, weird blue smeargle, maybe even just a straight up substitute doll) and then there's like. idk a run where whatever company makes them does a "modern" redesign with a ditto that's considered "too unrealistic" by the hardcore fans because OBVIOUSLY there were no ditto in hisui-era sinnoh. its not like the transformers where its a big franchise with a signifigant fanbase or anything its more like. a toy company making action figures of king author and to make it hip with the kids they replace excalibur with a gun

#ask and ye shall receive #Anonymous #ditto rei au #jsyk i am keeping all these asks about modern interpretations of rei in my back pocket #just in case i end up eventually writing. history offers preservation sequel set after rei gets sent back to modern day #because i legitimately love thinking about this kind of stuff SO much #not gonna commit on writing a sequel for SURE tho since 1) my ideas for it are very bare bones atm #and 2) history offers preservation is literally on chapter 15 and rei hasn't even seen kleavor yet. its going to be a long while until then

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wordveined · 2 years

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Tarnished Dawn

Category: Fire Emblem: Three Houses Rating: PG/SFW Genre: Fantasy Word Count: 1761 Status: Complete

Summary: That dagger in his shoulder; his lance in her chest. That’s how this is supposed to play out... isn’t it?

Warnings: Brief suicidal ideation, general discussion of war and death. Also set at the end of A/M, so if that’s not your cup of tea then this probably won’t be.

***

Agony like fire rips through Edelgard’s veins with a vengeance as the Hegemon shell begins its disintegration, like so much dust in the wind. But even with the pain, there is a sense of relief - of finality. It’s done, she thinks. I have lost. She doesn’t scream; doesn’t wail or shout at the indignity and shock of it. Instead she merely collapses, on her knees before the throne as the last vestiges of that vile power drains from her body and bleeds her energy dry, simply glad that the horrificness of it is over at last.

She knew the price of this power, when she took it on. She knew what it would cost. She would not have resorted to it, had she not been so achingly desperate to end things, to see this through and finish what she has begun. But she also knew, going into this battle, that it would be her last. No matter the play, no matter the strike, when Dimitri’s army arrived at Enbarr’s gates, Edelgard had been gripped with the cold, dead certainty that this was it and that she would not prevail.

And she was right.

The last wisps of the Hegemon finally fade into oblivion, and Edelgard remains still, eyes closed a moment longer. She feels oddly serene even as she kneels in defeat before them. Her earlier dread has faded into resignation, yes, but it lacks the taint of bitterness that she had expected to come with it. Instead, she merely feels… at peace. Finished. Over. Everything she has worked for over the last five years - the last decade, truly - has culminated in this battle and now she kneels upon it like a pile of broken glass, the shards digging into her flesh with the regrets of things left unfinished, though they draw no blood and leave no mark, and yet they scar her soul all the same.

Or what’s left of it, anyways.

She sees it behind her closed lids like a mirage, a vision fated to be ripped out of her clutches; the world she’d been so close to creating, grasping the knife’s edge between too far and not far enough. So close… she had been so close…

She hears movement, then; hesitant steps as they ascend the dais, the gentle clatter of armor accompanying every footfall. When it stops and silence resumes, Edelgard cannot help but to open her eyes and look up at the pair that now stands before her.

At the hand that reaches out to her across the space between them.

Her heart shudders with shock at the unexpectedness of it - of the gesture, both literal and symbolic.

If that is the future you hoped for, then you deserve no compassion.

His words from earlier in the battle echo harshly in her ears. They grate against her nerves like a whetstone, sand away at the dulled, blunted edges of her heart till it gleams like a sharpened blade, where it presses up against the inside of her chest and she bleeds.

“El…” Dimitri’s voice is surprisingly soft as he speaks her childhood name, but she has no problem hearing him over the otherwise deafening silence of the throne room. Hesitantly, Edelgard glances up from that outstretched hand and meets his gaze, and a single cerulean eye bores deep into twin lavender. She finds him in this moment to look just as sure and steadfast as he had back in their days at the academy, before her own plans began to slither out of her control and war overtook every corner of their lives. That rage and hatred he had so resolutely targeted at her that day in the Holy Tomb - and has ever since - is nowhere to be seen. Instead, she sees…

Hope.

That, perhaps, frightens her more than anything.

“I thought–” she breaks off into a cough, hand flying to cover her mouth, body seizing violently with the strength of it even as it lasts only a moment. The Hegemon took a greater toll than she had realized - it’s fortunate her gloves are red.

When the moment passes, she sucks in a shuddering breath and lifts her gaze to meet Dimitri’s once more. “I thought you said I deserved no compassion.” Her voice comes out far shakier and quieter than she intended, and inwardly she rages at the sound of it. How broken, how weak has she become, that even as death rattles at her bones she can no longer maintain her own strength and surety?

Dimitri doesn’t flinch. The smile he wears tightens slightly, but his gaze never wavers. “I… say a lot of things, I’m sure you’ve noticed.” The whispers of what, exactly, has been said hang off the end of his statement, as if reluctant to be heard again in the light of day. “But that does not mean I cannot change my mind, nor admit that I may be wrong.”

She hears it, then; his silent plea. Edelgard may be the one on her knees, but it is Dimitri who is begging for her life. What a strange thing to realize, when only months ago they’d both been convinced all he wanted was to see her in a bloodied heap on the battlefield.

Another breath, and this one stings more than the last. Even if she lives past this moment, the remainder of her time in this world will not be long. And Dimitri will not kill her - not unless she forces his hand. His actions just now have proven that.

And she could - force him into action, make him finish things as no doubt the rest of Fodlan expects to happen. His dagger rests at her hip even now, hidden beneath the folds of her cloak and forgotten entirely until this moment. Now, its presence itches at her like an infected wound, never ceasing in its bother, in its reminder of things better left in the past.

Of the girl she’d once been, now dead and buried. Of the boy she had known, now tormented and scarred.

It would be so easy. Throw the dagger, aim for the connective area of his armor near the shoulder. Areadbhar is positioned so perfectly - he hardly needs to move at all. He would live on, a minor wound to show that he’d only done what had to be, and she…

Edelgard’s gaze drifts from Dimitri to the figure standing behind him. The professor. Their gaze burns on her like a wildfire, boring deeper into her than Dimitri’s one-eyed stare could ever hope to, now. In that second of eye contact Edelgard sees that they know the way in which her thoughts have gone. They might not have been her teacher, her mentor, hers to lean upon - but there has always been that odd, unspoken thread of connection. Of what if. She has always felt as though they have seen straight through to the very depths of her - and this moment is no different than any in the past.

And in the depths of their gaze, Edelgard sees it. This world that they and Dimitri are fighting for. Their vision of Foldan… and it does not seem so far removed from her own. Not really. Some differences, yes, but perhaps… if she can just make them see. With the professor at her side, Edelgard knows that there is nothing that she cannot accomplish… and Dimitri…

Her eyes flash back to him, in a mild panic now that with her delayed response he may just take action on his own regardless. But no - he has not moved from his place before her, his hand has not wavered, Areadbhar has not moved. For only moments ago having toyed with the idea of finding herself lodged on the end of its blade, it is surprising how vehemently she suddenly wishes not to be. She looks back up, into his face once more, and refuses to let that hope she sees clamoring within him take root in her own chest, too. “Things cannot return to how they were. Not ever.”

“No, they cannot. But can we not attempt to move forward - together?”

“I–” she breaks off sharply into another fit, the coughs wracking her frame so harshly this time that she hardly notices when both Areadbhar and the Sword of the Creator clatter to the ground, and all of a sudden Dimitri and the professor are both right next to her, own their knees the same as she and why have they not just killed her yet? Surely they know if the position were reversed, she would have done the same. Would have regretted none of it, not with the knowledge that it had to be done.

But no. Instead of death she finds only an odd comfort as they both reach for her. Somehow she ends up pressed against the two of them, the bulk of her leaning onto Dimitri as the professor shoulders the rest, one hand clasped tightly by each of them. Such warmth… such closeness… Edelgard has not felt anything so gentle in so many, many years now, and she shuts her eyes as the sensation of it floods her to her core.

“Edelgard… please,” Dimitri’s voice is less than a whisper near her ear. “Together we can be stronger than we are apart. We can find those responsible for the Tragedy - for all of it - and make them pay. We can question Rhea and the Church, demand honesty from them once and for all. No more casualties. No more war.”

There it is again.

His damned plea.

Live, Edelgard. Please.

The rest of her strength seems to have disappeared in the intervening time since the shell evaporated, and her breath comes now in little wisps. She tightens her hold on their hands, briefly, before she relaxes her grip and gives the slightest of nods against his shoulder.

Yes.

Edelgard is vaguely aware of the way they both tense at her agreement; can make out the intonations of Dimitri’s voice as he raises it to a shout, calls for a healer to come quickly, now! They must have been close, for she can just begin to feel that familiar tingle of magic along her skin even as the rest of the world fades out to a muffled blur and eventually, nothing.

But throughout that whole time, she can feel the warmth of their hands, Dimitri’s and their teacher’s, and not for a single moment do they let go.

#‣ fic.#‣ sfw.#‣ au.#‣ rating: pg.#‣ category: fire emblem.#lamely throws this onto the dash and rolls away #anyways this is what i've been working on the last little while and it's DONE #i know.... I KNOW...... UNREALISTIC......#BUT LET A GIRL DREAM #a/m's ending hurt me so bad this is me making it slightly less painful #i also left the ending incredibly vague so it's up to the reader's interpretation what happens following #does she die in dimi and byleth's arms?#does she live?#do they work together to get rid of twsitd and legitimately uncover rhea's lies and the truth of what happened with sothis and nemesis?#up to u :>

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anarcho-smarmyism · 7 months

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"Sex between men wasn't against the law in Japan during this period, but it was frowned upon: men who slept together risked being regarded derisively as "woman-haters". Sex between men and wakashu, however, was legitimate: men were expected to be attracted to both women and wakashu. The practice became known as shudo, and the association of shudo with high-ranking samurai helped to increase its social status. An entire genre of literature and art sprang up around shudo, in which the visual features that made wakashu different from men and women -their hair and clothing- were eroticized, seen as arousing markers of their sexual availability. This emphasis of difference means that, again, we can't accurately interpret shudo as "homosexuality": instead, it's better seen as sex between two different genders.

Like al-Dalil, and others, wakashu were exclusively penetrated by the men they had sex with, rather than penetrating them. While wakashu could also sleep with (and penetrate) women -indeed, many of the plotlines of shudo literature revolved around women 'stealing' attractive wakashu from their samurai lovers- they were still often seen as submissive, seduced partners in these scenarios. . . In this sense, the gender of wakashu -again, a gender distinct from men and women- was bound up with their sexual practices, their appearance and their age."

-Before We Were Trans: A New History of Gender by Kit Heyam

#trans #transgender #lgbt #trans history #gender #before we were trans #education multiplies power

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theliteraryarchitect · 2 months

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A Word of Advice About Critique Groups, Beta Readers, and Other Peer-Based Feedback on Your Writing

In my time as a professional editor, I've had many writers come to me with stories they've been trying to improve based on suggestions from critique groups, beta readers, or other non-professional feedback sources (friends, family, etc.). The writers are often frustrated because they don't agree with the feedback, they can't make sense of the comments they've gotten, or they've tried their best to implement the suggestions but now they've made a big mess of things and don't know where to go from here.

If this happens to you, you're not alone. Here's the deal.

Readers and beginning writers are great at sniffing out problems, but they can be terrible at recommending solutions. For that reason, critique groups can be a disastrous place for beginning writers to get advice.

Here's a good metaphor. Imagine you don’t know the first thing about cars. Someone tells you, “There’s oil leaking onto the driveway. You should cover the car with a giant garbage bag.” Alarmed, you oblige, only to be told the next day that “now the car smells like burning plastic and I can’t see out the windows.”

A mechanic would’ve listened to the critic’s complaint and come up with their own solution to the leaking oil, ignoring the amateur’s ridiculous idea, because they know how to fix cars and can use their skills to investigate symptoms and find the correct solution.

Critique groups actually aren’t bad places for experienced writers, because they can listen to the criticism, interpret it, and come up with their own remedies to the problems readers are complaining about. Beginning writers, on the other hand, can end up digging themselves into a deeper hole.

There's a great Neil Gaiman quote about this very conundrum:

Remember: when people tell you something’s wrong or doesn’t work for them, they are almost always right. When they tell you exactly what they think is wrong and how to fix it, they are almost always wrong.

So what to do?

First, try to investigate the reader's complaint and come up with your own solution, instead of taking their solution to the problem. Sometimes, in the end, the reader's solution was exactly right, which is lovely, but don't count on it. Do your own detective work.

Second, take everything you hear with a huge grain of salt, and run the numbers. Are 9 out of 10 readers complaining about your rushed ending? It's probably worth investigating. Does nobody have an issue with your abrasive antagonist except your cozy mystery-loving uncle? Then you might not need to worry about it.

Third, give everything you hear a gut check. Does the criticism, while painful, ring true? Or does it seem really off-base to you? Let the feedback sit for a week or so while you chill out. You might find you're less sensitive and open to what's been said after a little more time has passed.

Lastly, consider getting professional feedback on your writing. Part of my job as an editor is to listen to previous feedback the writer has gotten, figure out whether the readers were tracking the scent of legitimate problems, and offer the writer more coherent solutions. Of course, some professional editors aren't very good at this, just like some non-professional readers are amazing at it, so hiring someone isn't a guarantee. But editors usually have more experience taking a look under the hood and giving writers sound mechanical advice about their work, rather than spouting ideas off the top of their head that only add to the writer's confusion.

Hope this helps!

#writeblr #writing advice #op #fiction

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mysterycitrus · 4 months

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PLEASE go off about Bruce

the popular modern character beat for bruce where he’s this truly unhinged machiavellian mega genius actively plotting his own downfall is so far divorced from his neo-noir detective roots it makes me want to tear my hair out

it really goes without saying that bruce is singularly driven by restorative justice, more than literally anyone else aside from maybe cass cain. his decision not to kill under any circumstances is not a selfish one, it’s a selfless one, because bruce understands that no one person should have the right to take a life. if killing is a legitimate action to take against a threat then anyone, whether it be an individual or an institution, can be incentivised to kill as a first resort. bruce understands the complicated nature of crime and why it occurs. he understands community and the importance of social support, and how human connection will save lives. he never wants anyone to feel the pain he felt in that alley ever again.

he’s a detective who mistrusts the police and actively works against them. combat and physical violence aren’t what drive him, it’s an unfortunate consequence of opposing corruption. if he can save a child instead of throwing a punch, he’ll do it. if he can talk someone off a ledge, he’ll make the time. he can’t unknot his own heart, but he still tries. it hurts, but he tries.

bruce’s purposeful disconnection from others out of fear of losing them is driven by selfish desire, because he is (deep down and hidden away) a profoundly loving person who believes everyone deserves a chance. this is shown in how he raised his kids — he’ll smother them to protect them while forcing himself to hold them at arms distance. when they reflect his worst habits back at him, he’s horrified. he’s objectively a bad parent. no one else should let him adopt more children. he saved dick grayson and jason todd and cass cain and tim drake. many things can be true at once.

the interpretation of him as either a brooding, violent asshole with no redeeming qualities OR a somewhat pugnacious but ultimately emotionally mature father figure both miss the point of bruce wayne’s primary motivation, being that he is still in crime alley as an eight year old, kneeling in the ground amid the pearls, and he has not moved in thirty years. he can’t leave, because if he leaves then who will be there to guide the next dick grayson, the next cass, out from those shadows and into the light? he is anchored by his own weight. so much of what he does comes from a need for control, a hyper fixation on predicting the outcome, if preventing the worst case scenario before it happens. the rest of it is love in motion.

#this is an extremely sympathic view of bruce wayne because if i see one more pro fascist batman post im going to McLose it #bruce Wayne #batman #batfamily #dc comics #the ask and the answer #batfam

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suppermariobroth · 3 months

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In Luigi's Mansion: Dark Moon, Luigi can yell for Mario by pressing any direction on the D-Pad, similarly to how he can yell for Mario in Luigi's Mansion by pressing A while not near an interactable object.

The animation of Luigi yelling interferes in a glitched manner with his key picking up animation, whereby if he is in the middle of yelling while touching the key, he will not pick it up and instead the key will merely move around as though he had picked it up, moving on its own.

Interestingly, although this is an unintended glitch animation, it fits the tone of the series, which features many examples of haunted objects that move on their own; e.g. in Luigi's Mansion 3, the animation of Luigi inserting an elevator button has it move on its own in a way consistent with the glitched animation seen here. In addition, Luigi looking at the key can be interpreted as him being surprised to see it move by itself, creating an animation that could plausibly appear legitimate.

Main Blog | Twitter | Patreon | Small Findings | Source

#luigi's mansion dark moon #nintendo

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skyeblue8 · 7 months

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Ɗᥙҽ 𝜏σ ᙏყ Ɲҽɯ⨍σᥙɳԃ Ƒιχα𝜏ισɳ... ♚

⋆⋆⃟⊱✪⃝⃞⃝⊰⋆⃟⋆ ⋆⋆⃟⊱✪⃝⃞⃝⊰ ⋆⃟⋆⋆⋆⃟⊱✪⃝⃞⃝⊰ ⋆⋆⃟⊱✪⃝⃞⃝⊰⋆⃟⋆

Specifically with the Gluttonous Sin of Beelzebub being my favorite Sin of the group (not necessarily in Helluva Boss, but just in general), I wanted to make a ranking list of my favorite Queen Bee redesigns and their creators for really no other reason than I just feel like it. Now, this is all personal opinions and should not be taken to heart by any means, it's just for fun:

#1. "Beelzebub & Bibi" by @gravcore

♡ In terms of an actual redesign of the original, I love how this artist made "Bibi" because, for one thing, they made sense of the originals hair by giving her a ponytail since way too many characters have a mohawk style (Loona included); two, I cannot explain just how much I adore the clothes they gave her. The top is actually insect based and gorgeous, and not some recolor version of Loona's outfit; and third, they made canon Bee her own character rather than a royal because nothing about the OG read "Ancient Sin" to anybody.

♡ Now, in terms of the actual Beelzebub, here, she's legitimately stunning. Rather than a redesign, I can tell this was the original long before the Queen Bee episode came out, and I love how it reads both "70's party girl" and "regal ruler" all in one. That, and the actual bug design aspect and the color scheme. Above all else, I love how they incorporated the lava stomach in her design, too.

#2. "Beelzebub" by @s3tok41b4

♡ This design can best be described as a literal re-imagine of the canon Beelzebub as it shares almost all her similarities with the actual bug aspect to it that it desperately needed. It's legitimately simplistic but still appealing to the eye, futher showing us that Viv was perfectly capable of making something so simple, but actively chose to make it more confusing than it had to be.

#3. "Beelzebub" by @ruinxl0ve

♡ Similar to the first two, this shares both a regal and party girl bug aesthetic with the added bonus of actually being beautifully emotive despite not even having a mouth. I feel this beautifully differentiates the design from the original while also making it recognizable and I feel that it kinda feeds into the original concept that Queen Bee could literally "feel the vibe", hinting to her being an empath in some manner.

#4. "The Three Bees" by @onehelluvatime

♡ Long story short, these are three individual versions of the Queen Bee and her new placing within the Hellaverse outside of the canon one. For more in-depth explanation of these interpretations, it's best to check the blog yourself. Truly, I love these designs not only because of the visual redesigns themselves, but also the well-crafted and creative explanations and backgrounds regarding these characters. I especially like the idea that the hellhounds within society are half-undead with skull-like appendages and facial aspects.

#5. "Spontaneous Beelzebub" by @redd-byrd

♡ I know it's essentially the same as the canon design, but with the small tweaks that were made to this one (the giant "Bee Butt", the added black lines, the actual bug-like wings, the blue-thin eyes), all of them give a more clear indication (at least to me) that this Bee is more higher up than her fellow hellhounds, meaning she looks a lot more like a hybrid thus making her more grand. It's nice how they added these small details for improvement while still essentially leaving the design like its original.

⋆⋆⃟⊱✪⃝⃞⃝⊰⋆⃟⋆ ⋆⋆⃟⊱✪⃝⃞⃝⊰ ⋆⃟⋆⋆⋆⃟⊱✪⃝⃞⃝⊰ ⋆⋆⃟⊱✪⃝⃞⃝⊰⋆⃟⋆

Anyway, thanks for listening to my Ted Talk. Have a nice day!

#helluva boss critical #vivziepop critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss #helluva boss critique #hazbin hotel critical #helluva critical #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critique #vivziepop criticism #personal opinion #pls dont hate me #pls dont be offended #credit to artist #credit to artists #helluva boss redesign #beelzebub #queen beelzebub #queen bee

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dirtyvulture · 1 year

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Natasha Romanoff x GP!Beefy!Superpowered!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 4408

Requested by 🍬 anon: I'm back indeed😌and I have a request to make, could you write R adopting a superdog and surprising Nat with it? Like the dog somehow saves R and they have no choice but to keep them and take care of it😌

*slides $20 under the table* could the dog be a corgi who is an absolute menace to all the avengers?

-🍬

AN: Corgis are very special to me, so of course I will write this. 🥺Also, I threw in a smut scene, because this is not a Dirty Vulture fic without it.

No pronouns used.

“I still don’t really know what the point of me being in one of these is,” you say, rapping your knuckles on the metal wall of the van currently transporting you and your team to the apartment complex you’ve been sent to overturn. SHIELD had spent the last three months scoping out HYDRA activities from the entire building and they now had enough intel to send in the strike team: you, Natasha, Steve, and Clint.

“Because we go in together,” Steve says, the ever optimistic leader of the pack.

“Right.” You nod, cracking your knuckles through the padding of your gloves, a nervous habit you have before any mission. While this one was relatively simple (and you got to do it with Natasha, which for the longest time had been strictly forbidden by Fury after what happened in Budapest), you were still aware of the risks and dangers that came with the job.

Natasha’s hand rests lightly on your thigh and you look at her. She smiles softly at you, not saying anything, but you know exactly what she’s trying to communicate.

Both of you will be okay.

You put your hand over hers and squeeze it. The van finally comes to a stop and the four of you pile out, standing on the empty, dark street. It’s well past midnight so there are few cars or people out. This kind of peace is rare in New York, but you’re also in one of the rougher neighborhoods, where people try to honor curfew for their own safety.

“Everyone ready?” Steve asks, strapping his shield to his arm.

“Hold on,” Natasha says, stepping up to you and cupping her hand around the back of your neck to pull you down to her level, kissing you with a passion that is usually reserved for the bedroom. She slips her tongue into your mouth as her hold on your neck tightens so you can’t pull away.

Steve and Clint stand there blinking at the two of you, Steve shocked by the public display of affection (as if he’s never witnessed it before), and Clint annoyed that this is the kind of thing he has to deal with more than he cares to.

Natasha finally pulls away and looks up at you, smiling when she sees a smudge of her lipstick on your lower lip.

“Be safe, babe. I’ll see you in a bit,” you say, stepping back from Natasha. You give Clint a bracing nod, and Steve a glare that can be interpreted as “You better watch my girl or else.” You close your eyes and picture the apartment on floor 2 that SHIELD showed you a model of ahead of time. By now, you’ve perfected your technique, but it’s still not the most enjoyable experience. There is a pressure around your entire body, almost like you’re surrounded by a tide of water, crushing you from every angle until you can’t take the pressure anymore and you explode.

Literally.

You disappear from your spot on the street in a cloud of white smoke, feeling like your body is being pushed through a tube before you expand to your full size again in the same empty apartment you had pictured.

No matter how many times you teleported, it never seemed to get easier.

You shake out your limbs, feeling blood flow to your extremities once more, then start lumbering around the apartment to find the front door. It’s not even locked and you step out into the poorly lit hall, your ears straining for any movement behind any of the other apartment doors. SHIELD had warned you that the building was filled with a mix of actual HYDRA agents and legitimate residents, but it went without saying that none of them would take too kindly to an Avenger letting themselves in out of nowhere.

“We’re entering the ground level now,” Steve’s voice crackles in your earpiece. “Y/N, where are you?”

“Exactly where I’m supposed to be,” you hiss back, stationing yourself outside door 1227. All you knew was that HYDRA had a lab cooking behind the door and that it was probably armed to the teeth.

“Good. Wait for our signal.”

“Copy, Cap.”

You start counting down the seconds in your head as the rest of your team takes the old-fashioned route up the stairs to join you. Just as you reach 100, the door suddenly swings open and your mouth drops open.

“Wait–” This hadn’t been part of the plan; whoever was inside wasn’t supposed to know that you were here. A man with a shaved head stands in the doorway, holding what you think is a walking cane in his hands.

“What the hell?” he says.

“Delivery?” you try, despite being empty-handed. You have to dodge backwards when he swings the cane at you with such force, the handle buries itself an inch-deep into the floor. “Relax, dude!” you say while retreating frantically. You notice he isn’t calling for backup (something you might be able to use to your advantage) as he yanks his cane out of the floor and advances on you. You’re pushed back down the hall, where the only escape is the window. Technically, you could teleport instantly to any place you could picture, but you know it would be a cop-out to leave like that while you were on official work.

“Where did you come from?” the man snarls, jabbing his cane at you and you lift your arms to protect your face (Natasha wouldn’t be very happy if that got damaged tonight). The cane stings where it makes contact even through your padded forearms and the pain irritates you more than anything. When the man swings the cane around for another strike aimed at your ribs, you grab onto the shaft and yank it towards yourself. The man stumbles, losing his grip on the cane and you take full control of it.

Without putting too much thought into it, you hold the cane in both heads and bring it down towards your knee, cleanly snapping the plastic in half. You toss the broken halves to the side, raising your arms in preparation of a legitimate fistfight, but the man seems to have other plans.

With a shout of rage, he charges at you like you personally hurt him by breaking his cane. You barely have time to react with the short distance between you before he collides with you like a cannonball. You tip backwards, not strong enough to slow his momentum, your back slamming into the window. The glass gives easily under your combined weight and all the blood rushes to your head as you fall headfirst down two stories.

As everything seems to process in slow motion, you wrap your arms around the man’s torso, twisting your bodies with lightning speed boosted by your superhuman abilities, so that you’re on top of him. Even in the dull moonlight, you see his eyes widen in shock when he realizes you’re going to land on him.

You brace yourself for impact nonetheless, your jaw rattling and head whiplashing from the sudden stop as the man’s back bounces on the pavement. He goes limp beneath you and you push yourself off of him, standing and checking for any damage to your limbs. Fortunately, he took the brunt of the fall, and your enhanced physique along with your armor kept you in mint condition.

You take in your surroundings, finding yourself in a narrow alley adjacent to the apartment complex. It smells like sewage and garbage, almost strong enough to cause you to clap your hand over your nose to muffle the invasive scents. You glance up to see the glinting shards of remaining glass in the window you both had fallen out of. This hadn’t been part of the plan, but you hope the others won’t mind your detour.

“Y/N, was that you?” Clint’s voice suddenly rings through your earpiece.

“What?”

“We heard breaking glass.”

“Yeah, I’ve got it under control,” you lie, scratching your head and looking down at where the HYDRA agent fell. Except he’s not there anymore. “Oh, no–”

A considerable force slams into your side and you find yourself face-down on the pavement in the next second. Your cheek scrapes the asphalt as you roll onto your back, raising your arms defensively as the man points a gun at your head.

“How did you–” You know this is no time for small talk, but you can’t help your curiosity.

“Hail Hydra,” he interrupts, as if this is enough justification for how he managed to survive a two-story fall with you using him as a landing pad. You close your eyes and tense yourself for being torn apart by a piece of lead, but it doesn’t come. Instead of the thunder of a gunshot, there is a ferocious growl that can’t have possibly come from a human, and suddenly the HYDRA agent is screaming and swatting at a black blur attached to his ankle. He drops his gun and you kick it out of his reach, scrambling to get up.

“Down, down!” he yells. You’re not sure what kind of animal has latched onto him, but it has an unusually long body and stubby little legs that end in white paws. The man tries shaking the animal off violently, swinging his own leg towards the brick wall and you leap into action. You grab onto his shoulders and shove him back. He loses his balance and hits his head hard on the wall, slumping instantly and collapsing like a sack of potatoes.

“I hope that takes care of you,” you mutter, a little hesitant that a solid blow to his head would knock him out so easily.

The animal, which you’ve now deciphered is a corgi, releases the man’s ankle and bounds up to you, opening its mouth in a goofy smile.

“Hi, little guy,” you say, kneeling and offering an open palm. “Thanks for your help.” The corgi’s entire body trembles in excitement as you pat his head. “What are you doing out here by yourself?” The corgi barks, but you can’t speak dog. “Well…I guess you can come with me for now.” You have no idea what you’re going to do with him in the long-term, but you don’t have time to think about that right now. You need to get back with the rest of your team.

The corgi’s stumpy tail wags and he grins adoringly at you. You’ve hardly known him for a minute, and you would already do anything for him.

“What should I call you?” you ask, and he barks again. “Hmm…” Your eyes wander to the fallen HYDRA agent, for the first time you notice the badge hanging around his neck. It reads “M. Jacob.” You look back at the vibrating corgi. “How about Jacob? Does that sound okay?”

Jacob bounces on his paws and barks again, seemingly in agreement.

“Excellent. Come on, boy.” You click your tongue and he immediately falls in step beside you. The two of you exit the alley and walk around the apartment building, just in time to see the front doors burst open and Steve, Clint, and Natasha stumble out, all of them panting.

“Nice of you to join us,” Steve says. “Who’s your friend?”

“Jacob,” you answer, offering no further explanation.

“Y/N.” Natasha walks up to you, reaching up to brush your face and you cringe away when she rubs a bruise you didn’t know you had on your cheekbone. “What happened?”

“I’m fine.” You look down at Jacob, who stares at Natasha warily. “It’s okay, Jacob. She’s on our side.”

Jacob steps forward and sits down by Natasha’s feet, looking up at her expectantly for some attention.

“And where exactly did you find him?” Natasha does not bend down to pet him.

“He saved me back in the alley.”

“Why were you in the alley?”

“I…Uh…” You feel Steve and Clint’s judgmental eyes on you. You hadn’t done your part in the mission; in fact, the only thing you had done was almost gotten yourself killed and had now found possession of a stray dog. “I got a little distracted.”

“Because you saw the dog?” Clint asks, knowing your affinity for animals.

“No, it was a HYDRA agent actually,” you defend, frustrated.

“Sure, sure,” Clint says, but you can tell he’s not convinced.

“I was–” you start.

“Let’s get out of here,” Steve interrupts. “We got what we came here for anyway and we can debrief at the Tower.” The four of you (five including Jacob) start walking down the street towards the van again.

Natasha hangs back to walk alongside you, but she doesn’t reach for your hand the way she normally does.

“Are you okay?” you ask, pausing outside the van as Steve and Clint climb into the back first. Jacob tries to join them, but the bumper is too high for him to reach, so his short back legs swing comically as he tries to heave his body up. You chuckle and bend down to scoop him up. He looks at you gratefully then scurries over to Clint, begging for attention from the archer.

“We can’t keep the dog, Y/N,” Natasha says, as you wait for her to get into the van first.

“Why not?”

“We have no idea where he came from. He could be one of HYDRA’s pets, or worse, an experiment by them.”

“He’s harmless, Nat,” you assure, and she sighs. Your willingness to trust had always been a point of contention in your relationship: Natasha always approached new situations, people, and things with a supremely guarded nature, while you practically threw all care to the wind if there was food or an animal involved.

“How can you be so sure?” she asks.

You shrug. “I just know.”

“That’s not good enough, Y/N.”

“Please, Nat?” You give her your best puppy eyes (although Jacob could have easily beat you). “I’ll have Bruce run some tests to make sure Jacob’s not a HYDRA spy in disguise.”

Natasha stares at you, arms crossed over her chest. Her front zipper is drawn down just enough to reveal her cleavage, which is amplified when arms press her breasts up. You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring until she clears her throat and you hastily make eye contact with her. She smirks and you’re slightly annoyed at the distraction.

“So, can we keep the dog?” you ask, trying to remember the topic of conversation.

“Fine. But you owe me later.”

You already know exactly what that will entail, and you can’t remember the last time you had a night this successful. “Yay, thanks babe!” You peck her cheek quickly before she has a chance to tease you further and climb into the van to give your new friend all your attention. Jacob’s entire butt wiggles as you sit on the bench opposite Steve and Clint. He paws at your calf to beg to be carried into your lap and you cuddle him against your chest, enjoying the warmth of his fur. “You’re a good boy, Jacob. You’re gonna love your new home.”

***********************************************************************

Even though Jacob has four perfectly functional (albeit short) legs, you insist on carrying him all the way inside the Tower. Clint wakes up Bruce with a 2 a.m. phone call to bring him down to the lab, where he runs a few tests that Jacob seems to pass all of. He ties a loose blue rope around Jacob’s neck to act as a collar for now, and Steve dismisses everyone back to their quarters once Bruce declares Jacob safe to stay in the Tower, and you go upstairs with Natasha.

“I still don’t know if this is a good idea,” she says.

“He’s harmless and super cute, Nat. Aren’t those the only two reasons you’re dating me anyway?” you add in jest.

“There’s a few other reasons.” Her hand comes down and squeezes your butt. She winks at you. “You should probably leave Jacob with Yelena and Kate so we can have some interrupted alone time.”

“I hope they’re awake.”

“Yelena never sleeps until we come back from a mission.”

“Okay.” You practically rush down the hall, Jacob bouncing in your arms and he glares at you with big brown eyes. Yelena’s door is open just as Natasha predicted, and you can hear her and Kate talking inside. “Um, hi, guys,” you say, entering her room unannounced and setting your new corgi on the floor. Jacob toddles forward, observing the two women with some uncertainty.

Yelena and Kate are sitting with their backs propped up against the footer of Yelena’s bed, surrounded by a sea of colorful comic books they’d been discussing.

“We’re back, and this is Jacob. We found him at the HYDRA apartment complex on our mission,” you rush to explain, feeling your pants embarrassingly begin to tighten at the thought of your girlfriend sprawled out on your bed and waiting for you. You could never really figure out why she was so horny after missions; you were convinced it was the way you looked in your suit. “Can he stay overnight with you two? Natasha and I…have some things to do.”

Neither Yelena nor Kate have time to ask any questions or roll their eyes in disgust as you hurry back to your bedroom and slam the door shut.

Jacob stands there, looking almost concerned to be left alone by the only person he trusts so far.

“Jacob!” Kate calls, pushing aside some of the comic books and holding a hand out for the black corgi to sniff. “Hi, buddy. I’m Kate and this is Yelena.” She makes the introduction as if the dog can comprehend their names. Jacob licks her hand and pads forward to bump her arm. “Yelena also has a dog called Fanny. I think she’ll like you, you’re very cute.” Jacob’s stump of a tail wags happily as Kate scratches behind his pointy ears.

“Speaking of, where is Fanny?” Yelena asks, suddenly reminded of her own dog’s absence.

“She wandered off earlier, I think. She’ll be back soon.”

“Hopefully she doesn’t get too jealous of him,” Yelena says.

“Because Jacob’s cuter than her?” Kate asks.

Yelena narrows her eyes at her. “You did not just say that. Do not let Fanny hear you say that or she will have you for breakfast.”

“No, she won’t, because you’ll protect me, right? Right, Yelena?” Kate says, looking at her friend in concern.

Yelena shakes her head. “I will make no promises, Kate Bishop. Tread very carefully.”

***********************************************************************

“Oh, fuck, baby. Right there,” Natasha gasps, her fists clenching in the sheets as your hips slap against her butt with every thrust. You drive forward with barely restrained strength, feeling the whole bed move and the frame bump against the wall. The heat around your cock is tight and silky, Natasha clenching around you rhythmically as you pound into her.

“You’re taking me so well,” you say, squeezing her hips in time with your thrusts. “Such a good girl for me.”

Natasha keens at the praise, dropping her face down into the pillow. You tilt your hips to adjust your angle, the ridges of her pussy dragging against your cockhead in such a way that you almost lose control. And Natasha almost does too, pushing back so you can fill her deeper and moaning in pleasure.

“I’m almost there,” she warns, but you’re barely able to hear her over your own grunts. Wetness gushes around you suddenly, but you don’t stop your relentless pace until Natasha is whimpering and begging you to pull out. You’re careful to collapse next to her so you don’t crush her, rolling onto your back and your still-hard cock bobs and glistens with Natasha’s cum.

“You didn’t finish?” Natasha asks when she comes down from her high. You shake your head, your thighs clenching when she suddenly wraps her hand around your cock. “Take me again,” she insists, rolling onto her side facing away from you. Your muscular arms slink around her waist, pulling her closer to you and your cock slips easily into her again. This time, you are much more gentle with your thrusts, almost lazy as your exhaustion from the earlier mission finally begins to show itself.

You bury your face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the vanilla scent from her shampoo. Natasha interlaces one of her hands with yours where you hold her just below her bellybutton, sighing in content at being wrapped up in your arms and filled at the same time. She can feel your abs flexing against her back as you try to maintain your pace, your breath hot on her neck as you near your release.

“Nat, can I–” you ask, and Natasha loves how you still ask for her permission before finishing inside her.

“Don’t let any drop go to waste,” she responds as you press your hips against the back of hers, cum spilling out of your cock in short, hard bursts.

“Thank you, baby,” you murmur, your sweaty forehead nuzzling her neck. Natasha smiles.

***********************************************************************

Jacob wanders around Yelena’s room, sniffing in every nook and cranny and even walking all over Fanny’s bed. The girls watch him in amusement despite their growing exhaust at the early hour.

“You’ll fit right in here, Jacob,” Kate says to Jacob, petting his back as he waddles by. “I’m not sure Tony will be happy to see another animal, though. He might start charging us fees.” She keeps her own dog, Lucky, at her apartment a few blocks down the street, but she visits the Tower so often that she might as well move over permanently.

“If he does not let Jacob stay, I will cut his head off,” Yelena growls.

“Or, you can all just move in with me!” Kate says brightly, but Yelena doesn’t respond. Kate looks at Yelena and sees that she’s staring at the doorway, where Fanny has suddenly appeared. Fanny holds intense eye contact with the corgi perched on Yelena’s lap and for a few seconds, neither dog makes a move and everyone holds their breath.

With a vibrating growl that shakes her whole body, Fanny charges and Jacob leaps off Yelena’s lap to meet her, despite being barely a third of her size. Yelena lunges after Jacob, trying to wrap her body protectively around the small corgi, but he slips right through her arms and barks viciously at Fanny.

“Stop them!” she cries as Kate jumps into the fray, slipping her fingers under Jacob’s collar and pulling him back until he almost chokes. Yelena throws herself between the two dogs, hoping to break their eye contact and calm them down. Fanny snarls and snaps at Yelena, behavior Yelena has never before witnessed in her.

While Yelena yells at Fanny to back off, Kate struggles for her life to hold Jacob back. Despite the corgi’s diminutive size, he displays an extraordinary, almost supernatural, level of strength. In fact, it feels like her fingers are being crushed where they are wedged inside his collar, and upon closer inspection, Kate swears the corgi’s neck is thickening to the point where there is barely a millimeter of space left between her fingers and his fur.

“Yelena, are you seeing this?” she screeches, now trying to free her hand, but is only successful when the thin fabric snaps. Kate falls back, and now it is evident that Jacob is growing. Although he maintains the same long-backed, short-legged proportions, he is distinctly larger than Fanny now.

“Oh, God, what is happening?” Yelena says, crawling back from the giant corgi and shielding Fanny. Jacob barks, sounding deeper than before. He practically fills the room, the tops of his pointy ears brushing the ceiling and Kate screams in sheer fear as she presses herself against the wall to avoid being crushed on the floor.

“Natasha! Y/N!” Yelena screams. “Get over here now!”

“Please!” Kate begs, before getting a mouthful of Jacob’s fur and coughing. Hopefully you and Natasha weren’t too busy to hear them…

***********************************************************************

“Natasha! Y/N!”

You sit up instantly when you hear Yelena screaming both of your names, finally pulling out of Natasha and she whines at the loss of your cock, but doesn’t protest. She shares the same concerned expression as you as you jump out of bed, barely remembering to throw on a shirt and shorts before running down the hall. Natasha is right on your heels, wrapped in a blanket, and you get to Yelena’s room first.

Natasha’s sister is closest to the doorway, her body draped over Fanny. Kate is pressed up against the wall, her chest heaving like she’s run a marathon with something blue in her hands. Jacob is sitting in the center of the room, his ears pinned back against his head.

“What’s going on?” you gasp.

Yelena turns to you. “Did you…Did you see that?” she asks.

“See what?” Natasha crowds in from behind you.

“Your dog!” Kate says.

“Jacob, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” You pat your thigh and the corgi comes running over, brushing his head against your leg, his tail wagging a little bit now.

“Why are you asking him if he’s okay? That’s what you should be asking us,” Yelena growls.

“Your dog almost suffocated us all in here!” Kate bursts out. “He grew to the size of the room!”

“Grew? He looks fine.” You pick up the corgi for closer inspection, his paws dangling as you shift him at different angles to check for any injuries. “What are you guys talking about?”

“He grew,” Kate insists. “Look, he even broke out of his collar!” She shows you that the fabric in her hand is actually Jacob’s collar.

You shrug and put Jacob back on the floor. “That flimsy thing Banner put on him? It could have snapped just by grabbing onto it.”

“You cannot keep that dog, Y/N,” Yelena says. “He’s some kind of monster!”

“Don’t say that about Jacob!” you defend. “If you didn’t want to watch him again, you could’ve just said that.” You look down at the corgi, unable to believe your friends would be so rude to him. “Come on, Jacob. Let’s go back to our room.” And you and Natasha stroll back down the hall with your new pet, completely oblivious to the danger he could be.

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AN: Click here for Part 2!

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader

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starryeyedjanai · 7 months

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when the tide turns

@flufftober prompt: enemies at first sight @eddiemonth prompt: cavalier 2.7k | rated: teen tags: "enemies" at first sight, misunderstandings, idiots to idiots in love, first kiss, demiromantic eddie

read on ao3

Eddie wouldn't go so far as to say the first time he bumped into Steve Harrington, it was enemies at first sight, but it was a close thing.

He was just trying to get to his professor's office hours, when they collided right outside of Professor Click's office. It sent the pen Eddie had in his hand flying across the hallway in the opposite direction.

And he hadn't even apologized, this guy. He just kept it moving, like Eddie was the one who was in the way.

Eddie went to get his pen and turned back to find this guy inside Click's office, asking questions about the homework. The only reason Eddie's a little bitter about it is because he was kind of there first, right? He would have made it there before him if he hadn't brushed past him like he was the only person with places to be.

And then he'd had to wait his turn, taking his headphones off and listening to this guy ask the exact same questions he had about the assignment, Professor Click's voice too low and the sound of the air conditioning too high for him to catch what she was saying.

So he was annoyed. That this guy had just basically cut him in line and didn't even apologize for it.

And what's that one phenomenon where it's like once you notice something, you keep noticing it?

Whatever it's called, it's happening to Eddie right now. He runs into this guy one time, and now he's seeing him everywhere.

Once Eddie notices Steve, once he literally bumps into him trying to get to his calculus professor's office hours, it's like he can't stop seeing him everywhere.

And yes, now he has a name.

Eddie didn't know this guy existed two weeks ago and now he knows his name.

After the office hours debacle, then it was the cafeteria, seeing this guy in line, grabbing the last of the chicken tenders, a couple people in front of Eddie. So he had to wait, again, because of him, while they fried up some more. And yeah, maybe it's just a coincidence that the second time he sees this guy is when he's inconveniencing him again, but it feels like it's more than a coincidence.

The third time he sees him, before he ever knows his name was in the library, when this guy was sitting in his seat. Legitimately, literally, actually sitting in his fucking seat.

He got up to go to the bathroom and came back to find his stuff moved and this asshole sitting in his seat - arguably one of the only comfy chairs on this floor of the library. And, okay, maybe he was hogging it for a while, but who the hell just moves someone's stuff like that?

So it wasn't enemies at first sight, technically, but by the third time obviously Eddie is thinking of this guy as his nemesis, his first college nemesis. His first nemesis, period. Because he took his seat, he took his spot during office hours, and he took the last goddamn chicken tender.

And now he has verifiable proof that it's not just a coincidence. That this guy has it out for him personally for some reason.

Because he turned in his Intro to Fiction assignment for peer review and some guy named Steve absolutely ripped into his assignment, saying his interpretation of the religious aspects of Old Man and the Sea lacked nuance.

He looks up Steve on the registrar's website - there's no one named Steve in his Fiction class, so he must be in the other section of this class that meets on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

He finds a million Steve's that go to their school, but narrows it down some based on their year. Clicking into every single account to look at the grainy little picture from everyone's student IDs is time consuming, but there's a dire need in him to know who the hell this guy thinks he is.

He luckily doesn't have to scroll too far because he finds Steve and wouldn't you fucking know it? Steve Harrington is the same motherfucker who's slighted him multiple times in the few short weeks since they've been back at school.

He does some digging on Facebook and comes up short because this guy has so little personality in his online presence, it's shocking how this could be the same guy who left him a scathing peer review. Other than finding evidence of some weird little frenemy thing he has going on with some guy and the guy's girlfriend, there's nothing.

So Eddie just silently seethes every time he sees Steve and wonders what the hell is going on inside that pretty little head of his.

Truth be told, there were much worse people at Indy State than Steve, but something about him just gets under Eddie's skin. His cavalier attitude, maybe, the way he can just rip into someone's perfectly good paper, how nonchalant he seems to be about everything - it all makes Eddie want to shake him until he gets a reaction out of him.

He's maybe a little bit obsessed, but he's never claimed to be normal about anything in his life ever.

It's nearing midterms when he finds Steve sitting in the only comfortable chair on the third floor of the library and he groans, turning away to go to a different floor.

"Oh, wait, Eddie?" he hears as he's walking away.

And there's no way.

There's no way this guy knows his name. There's no way this guy is calling his name like he knows him, like they know each other.

He turns back around and Steve is walking up to him.

He squints his eyes at him. "Yeah?"

"I thought that was you. Hey, I know you're in Click's calculus class and I'm really struggling with wrapping my head around some of this stuff. Do you want to study together for the midterm?" Steve asks and Eddie's entire world tilts on its axis.

Why would Steve want to be study buddies with him?

Eddie's literally flabbergasted, but he finds his voice and says, "But I thought you hated me."

Steve looks confused. He says, "I don't, I don't hate you. I don't even know you? But I definitely don't hate you."

And Eddie sputters because no way was this all in his head. He says, "But what about the first time we ran into each other? You breezed past me to get to Professor Click first. You didn't even say sorry when you knocked into me."

And Steve still has that cute, confused look on his face. He replies, "If I bumped into you, I definitely would have said sorry. Maybe you had your headphones in? I know you wear them around campus a lot."

Steve noticed him around campus?

"O-okay, sure, maybe I had my headphones in and didn't hear you. But you stole my chair that one time," Eddie says, nodding over at said chair.

Steve looks back at the chair and actually looks a little repentant about that one, so Eddie knows he's right. He had to have done it on purpose.

But Steve says, "I am sorry about that one. That chair is the only remotely comfortable one up here though. And I only took it because you were gone for so long. I got up here and no one was sitting there so I waited for like ten minutes before moving your stuff. I thought you were one of those people who leave their stuff on the good chairs while they're in class, which is such a bitch move. But then you came back and I was gonna apologize, but you just took your stuff and left so quickly."

He does look like he feels bad about it.

And he's not wrong, is the thing. Eddie went to the bathroom and then saw Jeff from his chemistry lab there and he remembered a question he had, so they talked for a while before he headed back to his seat.

When he got back and saw Steve had taken his seat and moved his stuff to one of the other available chairs, he basically saw red and gathered up his shit and left. He was fuming about that for days. And Steve didn't even do it maliciously, apparently.

"What about my English assignment? You ripped my analysis of Old Man and the Sea apart."

Steve snorts and says, "Lacks nuance about the religious themes?" and when Eddie nods, he says, "I wrote that on everyone's assignment. Professor Brenner doesn't look at what we write. He tallies up how many times you comment on other people's stuff and that's how he determines your online participation grade."

Eddie knew he wasn't reading those fucking comments, that old bastard.

But it appears that this feud between him and Steve has been all in Eddie's head.

And that kind of makes him upset. Because he's been running around under the impression that he had a nemesis for the first time and this dude has probably never thought about him a day in his life before today. Upsetting.

"Oh, man, I seriously thought you hated me this entire time," he says with a sheepish look on his face.

"Nah, man. I, uh, I actually keep seeing you everywhere on campus and noticed you're really good at math. And I could really use a study buddy, if you're interested?" Steve asks, sounding hopeful.

What the hell. Why not?

He says, "If you can help quiz me on some of my chemistry shit, I will totally make numbers make sense to you."

And so it begins.

Now, the problem is that he's hanging around Steve so much that it has the opposite effect of what he thought was going on before.

Hanging out with him, with how well they get along together, playing video games together, just doing normal stuff - it all has him kind of craving more.

He feels like Steve is all he thinks about now. And okay, maybe he thought about him a lot before, when he thought they were nemeses, but it's different now that he knows him.

Everything he learns about him, he likes. Every new part of him he sees, he likes. He's never been like this about anyone before.

Steve shows him a picture of him and his friend's dog and Eddie is shooting heart eyes at it the entire time, cooing about how cute his dog is.

Steve tells him he likes playing silly video games with his friends like Surgeon Simulator and Eddie buys a monthly subscription to Xbox Gamepass for his laptop so he can play that stupid game with him.

Steve needs help editing an English paper and Eddie is kind of bad at English, especially citations, but he looks up APA citations and helps him figure it out.

Steve likes playing frisbee with his Ultimate friends and Eddie is signing up for the intramural frisbee competition with him because his team needed another person even though he fucking hates organized sports, especially stupid ass ones like frisbee.

He's kind of got a bit of a Steve problem and it's hard to shake. He's everywhere and even when he's not around, Eddie is thinking about him, about his stupid, perfect hair, about his eyes, about his smile. All things he didn't let himself think about when he thought Steve hated him.

But now, once the floodgates opened, he can't get Steve out of his head.

He likes him way too much, likes hanging out with him way too much.

The semester closes out with Eddie in way deeper than he ever thought he could be. He's never really fallen for someone like this and he doesn't know what to do about it.

Because he knows Steve and Robin are platonic soulmates now, and he knows Steve isn't seeing anyone, but he doesn't know if Steve even likes guys, if he even likes him. He knows they hang out a lot, but that doesn't mean Steve thinks of him as a friend or anything. He's so not equipped to deal with this.

He spends all break moping and pining, so much so that Wayne asks about it, asks who's got him in such a tangle. And Eddie blushes hard when he tells Wayne about his crush.

Wayne looks at him and says, "If this is that boy you stayed up on the phone with playing your little video games with until 5 in the morning the other day, I don't think you have anything to worry about, son."

Eddie scoffs. "He just, he likes playing these stupid co-op games that the kids he used to babysit for got him into. We didn't mean to stay up that late."

"All I'm saying is I wouldn't stay up all night talking to someone I didn't like," Wayne says and it feels like everything comes into focus suddenly.

Steve and Eddie have been hanging out for months, getting to know each other, studying together - sometimes just talking, completely forgetting about their homework or whatever quiz they're studying for, staying until the staff is literally kicking them out of the library.

Steve's best friend is a lesbian.

Steve has texted him every single day since the semester ended.

If nothing else, Steve is probably one of the best friends he's ever had.

He gets back to campus in mid-January and knows he's going to tell Steve, somehow, that he's into him. It might not be right away, but he's going to do it.

He sees Steve the afternoon he gets back and can't help the way his face lights up when he sees him. He's missed him, even though he spent all break talking to him, texting him, staying up way too late with him voice chatting while they played whatever game Steve was obsessed with that week.

Steve's standing in front of his dorm building like he's been waiting for Eddie outside ever since he texted him saying he was coming over.

As soon as Eddie gets close enough, Steve pulls him into a hug and Eddie sinks into it like he's finally home, like in Steve's arms is where he belongs.

They stand there in the cold of the winter, in each other's arms, and Eddie knows what it means to want - with the way his heart clenches and he feels every hair on his arm standing at being so close to Steve.

They pull away and Eddie is suddenly ready to say it, ready to tell Steve how he feels, ready for whatever consequences there may be to that.

But he doesn't have to.

Because as soon as they pull away, Steve stays close and presses his mouth to Eddie's, just a soft, dry press.

Eddie's breath catches in his throat and his hand comes up to cup Steve's neck as their lips slide together a second time, as Eddie opens his mouth to deepen the kiss. Steve's arms wind back around him and Eddie wants to stay here forever.

The world around them is chilly, but Eddie feels so warm right now, wrapped up in Steve's arms, with Steve's mouth against his, with Steve's tongue against his.

Steve pulls back from the kiss and smiles at him - this shy, little smile that Eddie's never seen on him before.

"I was hoping you'd kiss me back," Steve says, like there was ever any doubt. Thinking about Steve wanting this, thinking about this, has Eddie's mind spinning. How long has Steve liked him?

He says, "I mean, I think I had a crush on you even when I thought we were nemeses."

That gets Steve to laugh. "You're such a dork. Nemeses."

"Hey, you just kissed this dork," he says, noticing how close they're still standing, noticing how easy it would be to just lean back in and kiss him again.

"I did," Steve says, the expression on his face soft and fond. "Let me take you to lunch? Not in the caf. Somewhere else?"

"You tryna wine and dine me, Harrington?"

"And if I am?" Steve asks.

Eddie grins at him. "I just might let you," he says, leaning in again.

#steddie #stranger things #flufftober2023 #eddiemonth #eddie munson #steve harrington #st fic #st ficlet #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #janai.doc

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genericpuff · 4 months

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The Elephant in the Room - Queer Erasure and Westernization in Lore Olympus (and all its horrid stepchildren)

This is one people have been asking me for a while now, and I've been waiting for the right inspiration to hit, as is required for my ADHD hyperfixation-fueled rants. After recently watching a video that did an objective review of Cait Corrain's Crown of Starlight, I felt now was the time, because Crown of Starlight effectively proves exactly what Lore Olympus - and other Greek myth interpretations like it - has issues with.

And I want to preface this post with one question - why do we keep getting these Greek myth adaptations written by queer women that still wind up perpetuating toxic heteronormative culture?

Buckle up, because this one's HEFTY.

In that aforementioned review of A Crown of Starlight, there were a lot of points that came up about how Cait wrote the female protagonist - Ariadne, wife of Dionysus - where I immediately stopped and went, "Wait, this sounds awfully familiar."

It should be mentioned briefly for anyone who's unaware - Cait Corrain is an author who was recently (and still) under fire for using sock puppet accounts on GoodReads to intentionally sabotage the ratings of other debut authors, many of whom were her own peers or from the same publishing imprint as her (Del Rey), and most of whom were POC. I mentioned in that previous essay that I just linked that Cait Corrain is a fan of Lore Olympus and decided to give it 5 star ratings from these alt accounts, not just de-legitimizing the reputation of the books she bombed, but also the ones that she praised (including her own book, because of course she had to leave an obvious calling card LMAO). I felt it necessary to tie Cait into my discussion of white feminism in LO and its fanbase because people like Cait are exactly who we're talking about when we dissect the intent and consequences of LO's writing - much of its brand of "feminism" seems to only be catered to a specific kind of woman (i.e. white women who fetishize queer people/relationships) and seem to encourage/embrace violence towards women if those women aren't "behaving correctly" or just aren't fortunate enough to be white and rich - and so Cait choosing to give Lore Olympus 5 stars in her hate-raiding and even have it visibly in the background of her headshot photos was... not exactly disproving my argument that these are the types of people LO caters to and encourages, to say the least.

But then I watched Read with Rachel's "Did It Deserve 1 Star" review of Crown of Starlight and it cemented my assumptions and concerns regarding Cait's intentions and influences even more.

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As a brief tangent, I've read A Touch of Darkness by Scarlett St. Claire. It very obviously is using Lore Olympus as its blueprints, but it's not super obvious that if you didn't read Lore Olympus or weren't aware of it, you probably wouldn't notice. It's still not a great book on its own, it's riddled with writing problems, but at least it can call itself its own thing to some degree.

Crown of Starlight is just blatant Lore Olympus fanfiction pretending to be original, even down to its marketing (which I'll get to shortly) but swapping out Hades and Persephone with Dionysus and Ariadne, and setting the entire story in space. Why is it in space? There doesn't seem to be any actual necessary reason for this, it just is, go with it. I'd be willing to accept this because changing up the setting of pre-existing stories can be fun (god knows I loved the premise enough of Lore Olympus being a modern day Greek myth retelling that I had to go and make my own version of it that's still in that modern setting) but as RWR says in her review:

"... we're told that it's the 'island' of Crete, but then we talk about commbands, airlocks, [holo-shields] and it wasn't really written in a way that I felt meshed 'Greek retelling' and 'sci-fi' in a cohesive way."

Needless to say, Crown of Starlight unsurprisingly suffers from the same problems Lore Olympus does, where it will try to "subvert" the original myths by changing their setting and characters and then doing absolutely nothing interesting with them to justify those changes.

To really drive my point home that Crown of Starlight is undoubtedly Lore Olympus fanfiction, Lore Olympus was literally used as a comparison point in Crown of Starlight's marketing which is a fair tactic to use to advertise to a specific niche or demographic, and while some have argued that Cait isn't technically the one to come up with that marketing jargon, it's made much more clear that she used that comparison herself when writing and pitching the book because it is quite literally just Lore Olympus with a different couple in space, right down to the main female protagonist being part of a purity cult. And of course it wouldn't be a bad Wattpad romance if it didn't have our main female protagonist Ariadne talking about how inconvenient her MASSIVE BREASTS are and of COURSE Ariadne is a poor innocent uwu babygirl who needs a man to come in and rescue her from the evil purity cult and of COURSE it hints at them eventually having raunchy sex just for it to wind up being milquetoast bondage and of COURSE it all just winds up taking traditionally queer characters and stories and turning them into this sanitized Disney-esque plotline where the boy and girl were always meant to be together and nothing else matters except their love-

And that, at its core, really just screams "this is bad LO fanfiction". From the stylization of the book's writing which never outgrew its "adorkable fanfiction writing" phase-

"Realizing that I'm being gaslit by my entire world doesn't make it easier to deal with, but hey, at least I still have some part of my soul!" - an excerpt from Crown of Starlight quoted from RWR's review timestamp 13:03

-to the "creative" choices made to turn Ariadne into a chastity cult girl whose resolution is obviously going to be to have what's implied to be dirty raunchy sex just for it to be like... the most tame level one bondage stuff;

-to the classic "she breasted boobily down the stairs" focus on Ariadne's body and breasts and sex appeal that's being kept in check by that pesky purity club.

And that's really disappointing because I had seen people say, "Yeah, Cait did an awful thing and deserves to be removed from her publishing schedule, but it's a shame that that book was written by Cait because it's actually a really good book!" because now it's just making me even more sus of people's Greek myth adaption recommendations (I'm still mad at BookTok for convincing me that A Touch of Darkness was worth reading). All I could think while listening to some of the excerpts quoted by RWR was that if I didn't know about Cait Corrain and read Crown of Starlight blind, I'd undoubtedly assume it was being written by a heterocis guy... but it's in fact being written by a queer woman.

And this is where I segue into talking about the root of this problem, where the calls are really coming from - Lore Olympus and its erasure of queer identities and relationships, despite also being written by a queer woman who should know better.

I could think of no better character to help carry this essay than Eros.

Unlike many of the characters in LO that Rachel has managed to straightwash by changing their motives entirely or straight up changing their identity from the source material (ex. Zeus, Apollo, Crocus who was turned into a flower nymph, Dionysus and Achilles because they're both literally babies, the list goes on), Eros has largely remained the same on paper who had zero reason to not be queer within the story.

Eros is still the god of love in this, he's still a guy and presumed to be an adult, but we NEVER see or explore him having relationships with anyone other than Psyche, aside from a brief mention of organizing orgies in the beginning that's used as a quick joke and then promptly never mentioned again.

Just like with Crown of Starlight and A Touch of Darkness and all these other "dark romance" stories, it's that brand of "pretends to be sexually liberating but isn't actually" writing, where they'll briefly mention orgies or sex-related things and then beat around the bush or avoid involving them entirely like a kid at Sunday school who doesn't want to say the word "penis".

(fr out of all the corny and awful slang for genitals I've seen used in stories like this, "a certain part of my anatomy" is definitely one of the most boring and stupid, like for god's sakes Hades you're both adults and at the beginning of this comic you thought she wanted to bang in the kitchen, why are you suddenly talking like a 7 year old boy LOL)

All that aside, while Eros might still be hinted at being queer and sex-positive, it's only as vaguely as possible so that the story can quickly move on to focus on him and Psyche or, better yet, Hades and Persephone. When Eros isn't deadset on finding Psyche, he's being the gay best friend for Persephone, who he has NO right having a friendship with when he introduced himself by intentionally getting her as drunk as possible with the intent of dumping her in Hades' car as per his mom's command. It's brushed off later as "well Aphrodite maaade him do it, for Psycheee!" but Eros still agreed to potentially put Persephone in danger over a relationship that had NOTHING to do with her and was also mostly his fault in its fallout (which Artemis calls him out for, but of course, like all the other times characters have called out the actual issues in the story they're inhabiting, they get brushed aside so that Persephone can talk about Hades):

Now, the Eros and Psyche plotline is one I've talked about before here and not the focus of this essay so I'll keep this tangent brief, but it's absolutely wild to me that Rachel took a story about a woman going to the ends of the earth to prove her love for someone whose trust she broke (a common theme in a lot of Greek myth stories, such as the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice) and turned it into... woman of color gets turned into a nymph slave for Aphrodite to 'test' Eros, a test that isn't clear at all in what it's trying to achieve, and wait hold up, didn't Eros actually fail that test by kissing Ampelus while completely unaware that it was Psyche-

This is just that episode of Family Guy where Peter justifies emotionally cheating and eventually physically cheating on Lois because "well you were the phone sex lady the whole time so no harm done!", isn't it? (×﹏×)

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Anyways. It's all very convenient that the comic will hint at queer rep just to either have it be a constant question of whether or not they're actually queer (ex. Morpheus) OR to have it be promptly swept under the rug to make way for other characters/plot points. It's like when mongie tried to be "inclusive" by writing a stereotypical vaguely Asian character with no specific ethnicity just to get angry at her fanbase for calling her out on this that you can't just call a vaguely Asian character "representation" of anything (because Asia is MASSIVE and covers so many different ethnicities and languages and cultures).

Eros is only as gay as he needs to be to fill the role of "gay best friend" for Persephone.

Krokos is no longer a male lover of Hermes but a flower nymph created by Persephone because... apparently we can't dare imply that Hermes would be into anyone besides his unrequited childhood love, Persephone.

Achilles is introduced as a baby even though it makes no sense in the comic's own timeline where Odysseus is presumably already a well-known hero in Olympus, so much so that he was invited to the Panathenea.

Apollo is turned into a flat-out rapist who's only concerned with getting Persephone at all costs and when that doesn't work, he tries to get ANOTHER flower nymph (Daphne) who's actually genuinely interested in him (contrary to the original myth, there's that "swap it subversion" Rachel is known for) to cut her hair so she'll resemble Persephone more because we can't have a single plot point not resolve around Persephone.

Despite there being loads of genderbent characters already, Morpheus is supposedly the only one we're supposed to assume is specifically trans and not just a gender-flipped version of a Greek myth character. Why? Not because Rachel stated so explicitly, not because the comic has actually explored her identity as a trans woman, but because the readers just assumed it in good faith and Rachel was clearly fine with taking credit for trans representation that's only there via assumption (and only confirmed via her mods in Discord, which is... not how you establish canon information in your comic, Rachel.)

Hestia and Athena are part of a chastity club, until uh oh how convenient that they're secretly in a relationship with each other even though it further vilifies them and their morals, particularly Hestia who was promptly called out for being a hypocrite for taking Persephone's coat gifted to her from Hades while secretly being in a relationship the whole time. Not only does the Hestia and Athena relationship manage to commit queer erasure - of two gods who are considered icons in the aroace communities - but it also makes the only two lesbians in the story come across as assholes AND ON TOP OF THAT ALSO manages to somehow invalidate queer sex and relationships as being legitimate due to the even deeper implication that breaking their chastity vows "doesn't count" because it's not a male x female relationship. It's the 'ole poophole loophole all over again.

And then there's Artemis, who has MORE REASON THAN EVER TO BE IN THE PLOT but keeps being conveniently ignored. Her finding out about Hestia and Athena doesn't get any more screentime than her going "oh you're in a relationship, okay" , we never see her question the true intentions of TGOEM or what it means to her, we never see her have any opportunity to carve out her identity beyond just being Apollo's twin sister (it tries to at times, but then immediately goes nowhere with it, amounting to just poetic word salad), and she really just comes across as what a lot of people assume aroace people to be - alone and standoffish, because obviously someone who's nice and a good person would be in a relationship, there has to be a reason they don't want to have sex or fall in love, and that reason obviously has to be that they just hate everyone and want to be alone forever (￢_￢;) Then again, like many of the queer characters in LO, I don't know if I can definitively call her aroace because it's kept as vague as possible, and - going by Rachel's answers to these questions way back in her Tumblr era - apparently people can't be gay and ace at the same time-

There are undoubtedly loads more examples that I could cover here but that goes for practically any essay I write about LO - the more you peel it apart, the more you start unearthing some really questionable and frankly mean-spirited stuff. Queer people feel largely ignored in LO, alongside many of its derivative offspring such as A Touch of Darkness and Crown of Starlight, and it really speaks to how so many people - queer women, no less - have somehow managed to bastardize and sanitize what were traditionally very queer stories with queer characters. It's like these people think "olden times" and can only get as far as "women were slaves and men were rich assholes". Like, yeah, okay, that was the case for many cultures, but not all of them, and for some of them it wasn't as clear cut as that, many had misogynist power struggles in them while also still celebrating women and queer people in their own way. Greek myth is full of stories of women being forced into marriage or being made the victims of assault, but many of them are supportive of women and their struggles, unlike works like LO that somehow manage to be less feminist and sympathetic to women and queer people than these works from thousands of years ago.

This is another topic that's surely meant for another post, but it really speaks not only to the straightwashing and whitewashing of Greek myth, but also the Westernizing of it. That's not to say Rachel Smythe and Cait Corrain and Scarlett St. Claire are intentionally trying to whitewash another culture's works here, but if you're raised predominantly on Western media, you're undoubtedly going to absentmindedly adopt ideas about society that are primarily molded around Western beliefs .

And this is apparent in LO, while Rachel is from New Zealand, you can tell she grew up on a lot of Western media and its influences are sorely showing through LO's worldbuilding, character designs, and narrative choices. That "modern setting" that I mentioned before is much less Greek and a lot more adjacent to The Kardashians which lends to the theories that most of the media that Rachel consumes is American. Rather than actually going to the effort of doing her research on Greek culture, she seems to just prefer defaulting to the easiest assumption of how modern society is across the board - a generic Los Angeles clone with big glass skyscrapers and pavement walkways. She rarely ever draws food or clothing from those time periods; despite this story being about gods she's spent so little time on the people who passed on the stories about those gods, the mortals, and the gods themselves rarely feel like gods, rather just like Hollywood celebrities covered in body paint. The clothing feels very generic and uninspired with often very little Greek influence, even though Greek clothing is designed around Mediterranean living which you could do a lot with, to such an egregiously Western degree that Hades and Persephone's wedding was Christian-coded. The food... well, there ISN'T any because as we've seen, like the stereotypical American child, Persephone apparently only wants chicken nuggies and Skittles for dinner, so we never see her eat; and not only do we not see Persephone eat, but Rachel weirdly tries to use Persephone's vegetarianism as some kind of anti-capitalist characterization when much of the Greek diet is predominantly vegetarian. It's NOT HARD or uncommon to be a vegetarian in Greece!

(it looks like they're literally all eating the same thing so IDK what Hera is referring to here, it looks like they're all eating toast and lettuce LMAO)

All that's to say, much of LO - and the books like it that I've gone over here - are written with this idea that every culture - including the one that it's trying to adapt - was subject to the same ideas that Western culture lives by in the modern day - that being a vegetarian is "counterculture" in every culture, that the notion of sexual purity is enforced in the same way it's enforced in the Western education system (cough Christianity cough), that queer or otherwise "unconventional" relationships should stay inside the bedroom and not be seen. As much as Rachel claims she wants to "fight the patriarchy" and "deconstruct purity culture", all she winds up doing is reinforcing it through a Westernized lens, which is, as I've talked about before, very indicative of right-leaning white feminism and what it embraces and promotes - being a "good woman" who follows the rules and willingly becomes part of the system that's oppressing them because that's what "good women" do. Women who are confidant in their sexuality are evil and should be shunned for being "sluts". Women who are in relationships with other women "don't count" as real relationships the same way heteronormative relationships do, and cannot be trusted because they're likely trying to spread an agenda that's designed to brainwash heterocis women. Women should only aim to achieve marriage and their entire personality has to be built around their true love. Women are allowed to be kinky, but only as kinky as roleplaying the exact same gender structures that puts the man in a position to dominate a woman, and it should always and only ever be with her first love who she marries immediately, no one else.

This is exactly what the critics are getting at when they hold LO - and its creator - accountable for the messages it's been sending for five years to its audience of middle aged women and young girls. Having a demographic is fine, if this were just a comic for girls it would be fine, but it becomes a lot more problematic when that demographic is being fed toxic power fantasy stories based on a culture that's being gentrified and sanitized of all its original messaging and characterization right before our eyes. It feels blatantly misinformed from the very beginning in its intention to be a "feminist retelling" of Greek myth, because somehow Lore Olympus manages to be less feminist than these stories drafted and written by men from 2000+ years ago.

I opened this essay with a question: why do we keep getting these Greek myth adaptations written by queer women that still wind up perpetuating toxic heteronormative culture?

I think cases like these really highlight how deep the heteronormative brainwashing from childhood onward goes. That, despite these writers being queer or women, still manage to reinforce the same ideas and tropes and harmful predisposed notions that were designed to be used explicitly against queer people and women. These are things that we can't ever stop challenging, and asking, and truly deconstructing, because it runs deep in many of us who grew up on popular media even as innocent as Disney. Learning about more complex social concepts like sexism and misogyny and queerphobia doesn't automatically absolve us of those very same biases that have been both blatantly and subtly ingrained into us since childhood. All that said, Rachel being bisexual does not mean she's not capable of straightwashing; Cait Corrain being a queer debut author with a POC main character didn't stop them from targeting other POC debut authors at their own imprint; being part of any minority group or identifier does not automatically protect you from perpetuating the cycle that you, too, likely had enforced upon you at some point or another in your life. The fact that these creators and writers are still perpetuating that cycle to begin with is indicative of why it's a cycle at all - it takes work to break on a subconscious level because those cycles are specifically designed to target and hijack the subconscious.

At its worst, do you really think Lore Olympus can claim to be a feminist retelling that's "deconstructing purity culture" when the creator herself admittedly never fully identified or understood sexism until her mid-30's and has the audacity to say her audience is "harsh" on the female characters that she constantly vilifies through her own narrative?

"I feel like female characters in general, people will be a little harsher on them and sometimes way harsher on them, and I used to be like.. before I started writing the story and like making a story I was like yeah, sexism is not that bad, and [now] I was like oh it's bad. It's quite bad [laughs], so like, I don't know, I feel like the female characters in the story don't get so much of a pass. But this isn't consistent across the board, it's not all the time" - Rachel Smythe, in an interview with Girl Wonder Webtoon Podcast

If Lore Olympus truly was just a series meant to be for fun "no thoughts head empty" drama and spice, that would be fine. I've said it time and time before on this blog and I'll say it again: I wouldn't have an issue if Rachel was just writing a story exclusively revolving around heterocis men and women. I'm just frustrated and tired and annoyed that she keeps lying about it, and doubly so that this comic and its creator who claim to be "feminist" have inspired other people in the same headspace to continue to perpetuate that cycle through works that are clearly inspired by LO and never challenged the things LO promoted - violence towards "unconventional" women, violence towards POC, and erasure of queer people. And worst of all, for writers like Cait Corrain, it's more than just writing a really bad book with really bad messaging, it's going so far as intentionally targeting those same groups of people that are regularly vilified in works like LO - people who are just existing, who don't pose a threat to anyone, but had the misfortune of becoming the target of a white woman's insecurity.

I don't know what the answer to this problem is. I don't know what form the solution will come in, if any, to address the ongoing issues with Greek myth adaptions that are being sorely written through an "America as the default" point of view and praised for "rewriting the script of Greek mythology", quite literally cultural appropriation happening live right before our eyes all for the sake of cheap entertainment. Maybe it'll take the failings of works like Crown of Starlight to really get people talking about it. But so long as the roots of these works - such as Lore Olympus - are still being protected and marketed en masse by the same kinds of people who don't see the issue in Americanizing other cultures and their stories, then Lore Olympus and Crown of Starlight will not be the last ones to cause harm to the source material - and the cultures that source material is born from and a part of - they're taking from.

I opened this post with a question, and I'm going to close it with another to really leave it as food for thought. That question comes from another video that I'll link here for you to watch at your convenience that spends even more time diving into and discussing the nature of works like this that have seemingly attempted to "deconstruct" the very dogmas that they still wind up reinforcing all the same.

Does the romance genre have a white supremacy problem?

youtube

(yes. yes, it does.)

#lo critical #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical #cait corrain #a touch of darkness #crown of starlight #scarlett st claire #Youtube

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wooahaes · 1 year

Text

svt - long distance relationships

pairing: svt x gn!reader

prompt: different scenarios/reactions dedicated to svt being in a ldr with u :)

warnings: fluff n some slight angst on account of being apart from one another. usage of terms of endearment (baby/baby/honey). food mentions. kind-of implied smut in vernon’s part if that’s how you choose to interpret it (if nothing else it’s just two idiots in love making out). intentional lowercase + no proofreading.

daisy’s notes: it took me 300 years to write again.......

choi seungcheol

seungcheol was... the whiniest person in the world when it came to the fact that you two were far apart. this wasn’t true all the time--he was still a mature adult who recognized that you couldn’t just up and leave your job and neither could he--as his friends had no idea just how pouty he could be (except for jeonghan, who lived with the guy and overheard plenty of mealtimes where he was talking about buying you a plane ticket himself). but on the nights when it was the worst for him? it was the absolute worst. he’d explained the feeling to you as being “skin hungry” for you to come visit him again and just hold him for a few minutes. maybe even a kiss would give him the strength to wait for when life started working out and one of you could move.

he’d been walking around his apartment when he called you that day, headphones in and listening to you talk about your day while making dinner before he let out the longest sigh.

“everything okay?”

“i want you.”

you looked back at your phone to see seungcheol was straight up pouting again. “well, you’re talking to me--”

“i want you here.” you could see him flop down onto his couch. “i want to hold you.”

“one of those days?”

he frowned at that. “don’t you get them?”

“all the time,” you admitted. you just didn’t go into theatrics over them as much as your pouty boyfriend did--partially because you knew he’d tease you a little over it before legitimately looking up ticket prices. “we’re working on it, honey. you know that.”

another sigh. “i do. i just want to kiss you again.” you looked over to see him just watching his screen, entranced by you while you cooked. he told you once he liked watching you cook: it made him feel a little closer to you in the domestic sense. “if you come visit me, i’m not letting you leave.”

ah. he was pulling out the fake threats again. the last time he said that, he cried on you the night before you had to leave and almost wouldn’t let you go at the airport before making you promise to call him as soon as you were home. “oh?”

“hurry up and come see me again,” he said. “or i’ll die. do you want me to die? i’ll die if you don’t come see me soon.”

you fought back the urge to laugh. “i’ll try, cheollie.“

(and maybe you’d start looking up tickets after you finished your call with him that night, texting jeonghan to ensure that your arrival would be a surprise when it came.)

yoon jeonghan

jeonghan texted you more than your own family and friends did. almost every morning you woke up to a text asking if you’d eaten yet, reminding you to drink water, saying that he hoped you slept well. of course, the time difference meant that he was sending these to you later in his day--but it was sweet to know that he was always watching the clock and trying to ensure that you were being taken care of. sometimes his texts would be accompanied by selfies he’d taken, whether they were when he was alone or out with his friends, just so you wouldn’t ‘forget his handsome face’ (you told him that there was no way you would, but jeonghan was one to tease).

these texts became more and more common whenever you had plans to visit one another--typically you visiting him purely because it was easier for you to travel than him. which is where you were now: listening to him talk about all the things he wanted to do with you and the places he wanted to go.

“there’s this new cafe that opened a few months ago,” he said, lying on his stomach as he talked to you over video call. “joshua and i went--you’ll like the cheesecake there.”

you continued folding your laundry, nodding along. you’d set your laptop up nearby so you could watch the cute, enamored look on his face. “really?”

“mhm.” he stifled a yawn. “i’m just ready for you to be here. joshua’s excited too. i think he’s tired of hearing me talk about you.”

“i’m sure he’ll be ready for me to leave once i get there,” you teased.

“my friends love you,” he said. “not as much as i do. but they love you.”

you set another shirt into your suitcase. you’d be leaving for your flight in a few hours. “hannie,” you said, looking up. “you can go to sleep.”

“i’m fine--”

“baby. you’re about to pass out.”

he stifled back another yawn, purposefully leaning out of frame. “i’ll sleep when you leave.”

you pouted at the sight of him giving you that stupidly charming smile, “hannie. i love you. please go sleep.”

he sighed before smiling at you. “okay,” he said, shifting and moving the camera so you could still see him. “i love you. i’ll rest extra well for you.”

joshua hong

“i’ve been working on a new song,” joshua said, tuning his guitar. “do you want to hear it?”

you knew that joshua knew the answer would always be a resounding ‘yes’ to that question. music was how the two of you bonded, and it was always fun to hear what he was working on between work and life. he already had takeout ready and waiting while you were waiting for your delivery to get there (apparently the traffic had been bad), so your boyfriend was keeping you entertained while you wait.

(you’d told him that he could go ahead, but he insisted on waiting for you--he liked your mealtime calls because sometimes it felt like you were a little closer to him than you were.)

he strummed the guitar, and you could already see his lips twitch into a smile. “sunday morning, rain is falling--”

he’d always start with that just to hear your laugh, so full of love, before you complained. “you aren’t funny, you know.”

“that’s why you laugh,” he said. he plucked at the strings before reaching out, flattening out the music he’d written. “it’s still a work in progress.”

“i know, joshy,” you smiled. “i wanna hear.”

he began to play, and you just smiled as you listened to him begin to sing. he’d written a love song, and you could only watch the way he lost himself in his music before fumbling with a chord before he stopped.

“i’m still working on it,” he reiterated. “i was thinking about showing it to some of the guys.”

you rested your head in your hands. “i like it. it’s pretty.”

“good,” he said. “it’s about you.”

you mocked surprise. “nooo--the love song my boyfriend wrote about distance meaning nothing is about me?”

he laughed softly, so warm and equally full of love as your own laugh. “i think jun will like it,” he said. “i showed him the last love song i wrote you and he liked it.”

you felt your face grow warmer, about to say something when there was a knock at your door. “food’s here!” you hopped up, calling back to give you a second.

you liked having at least one weekly mealtime between the two of you, if not more. it was another way of showing intimacy while you two were away from each other. not every mealtime call was the two of you (sometimes he had friends who would join in when you insisted to your slightly-possessive boyfriend that it was fine, that the two of you could continue to call by yourselves afterward), but it was always nice to have your boyfriend all to yourself.

wen junhui

every single time you went to visit jun, you swore that the two of you were falling in love all over again. you’d trudged off your flight, dragging your bag behind you through the airport as you internally cursed how long these flights always were. you’d gotten sleep, so thankfully you weren’t running off of nothing, but did it really matter when you always walked away feeling more tired than before?

but the one thing that would always reinvigorate you was the sight of jun standing in the airport, immediately opening his arms to you. every single time, you’d end up running to him to hug him tight as he squeezed the life out of you--something he always promised was coming. you loved jun’s hugs because of how secure they made you feel.

“get a room,” soonyoung whined from where he was standing nearby when jun started to pepper kisses across your face. “i’m sleepy.”

he looked sleepy. how early did jun wake him up? he’d mentioned that he was getting soonyoung to drive him since he’d be too giddy to drive once he had you back in his arms.

jun said nothing as he captured your lips in a quick kiss, chaste and sweet since the two of you were in public. “i missed you,” he said, completely ignoring soonyoung. “i love you. did you sleep well? you can sleep in the car--”

“i’m fine, honey,” you said, pecking him on the lips. “we should go before soonyoung passes out.”

soonyoung had thanked you in the moment just to tease jun a little further about how much he looked forward to having you there again. the entire time, jun held your hand in the car, quietly whispering to you how much he’d missed you. soonyoung dropped the two of you off at jun’s apartment, and soon enough you were curled up on the couch in jun’s arms with your bag left by the entryway.

“you look tired,” he murmured, pulling you in closer. “you can take a nap. i’ll make lunch for us when you wake up,” he said, already pulling you into his chest.

“i’m not tired,” you whined. “i wanna go out with you.”

“we’ll go out later,” he promised. “i love you. it’s okay if you need to sleep a little,” he traced hearts onto your back. “i can wait a little longer.”

you shut your eyes, face smushed against his chest as you listened to his heartbeat. “i love you, too,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around him. “don’t let me sleep too long.”

(he would, just to watch your sleeping face a little longer and ensure you napped long enough to feel refreshed. even if it earned him some gentle scolding from you because you wanted to make the most of your time together, jun was simply glad to know that you felt better and that he could finally take care of you again.)

kwon soonyoung

“where is it? did you get rid of it? i can’t see it.” soonyoung kept leaning as if he could get a better look of your bed from where you’d set up your laptop at your desk.

you already knew what he was talking about as you leaned a little more out of the way, letting him get a clear view of the tiger plush he’d bought you a few weeks ago. you’d sent him a picture when it arrived, and another when you curled up with it one night. “he’s still there,” you said. “i would’t get rid of it.”

soonyoung smiled. “bring it over. i have to see it closer so i can charge it with love.”

you rolled your eyes with a smile as you stood up, grabbing the plush before sitting back down. “why do i have to get it?”

“i have to see it!” he pouted, “i have to see it’s eyes.” he gestured to his own, “i’m using my tiger’s gaze.”

soonyoung was hamming it up. you already knew that he knew you were stressed again, and that this was his way of making you smile. and... it was working. you hugged the plush to your chest, watching him as he opened up his meal.

“you don’t have to do that, soonie,” you said. you liked the cute way he’d always glance up with a smile.

he cupped his hand under his chopsticks as he pushed his food toward the camera--a gesture that was familiar to you. “for you.”

you always wanted to tease him with a “i can’t eat that yet,” but you just giggled. “it looks good.”

“wonwoo ordered too much for him and cheol,” he said. “so i stole it,” he beamed. “i’ll give you the first bite when you’re with me.”

you sighed wistfully at the thought. “soonyoung...”

“i know... i’ll do it next week,” he said, “when i come to see you.”

you looked up. “wait--”

he reached off to one side, grabbing a folded piece of paper and holding it up. “surprise?”

you gasped, “soonyoung!”

“i can cancel them! i just wanted to surprise you,” he said, “and your roommate and i worked it out--”

“you’re really coming to see me?” you hugged the plush tighter to your chest, smiling.

he nodded. “i’ll be there soon,” he promised. “and i’ll give you the first bite when we eat together.” he paused, looking up, and you could hear wonwoo’s voice. “oh? ah, yeah, i can come help--” he looked back to you, “i’ll be back in a minute. i love you!”

and you smiled even harder as he got up, hugging your tiger plush closer to your chest. soon it’d be soonyoung in your arms instead, and you couldn’t wait for the moment to arrive.

jeon wonwoo

“hold on, it’s sending...”

wonwoo had been on a video call with you one night--a common occurrence between the two of you. with the time difference between you, you could see the sunshine peeking in through his blinds while you were finally settling in for sleep. most of these calls were usually the result of wonwoo telling you about his morning so far: the morning jog he went on beforehand, the place he stopped in to get breakfast to bring back to his apartment... little things. he’d been telling you about a stray he saw on his way back home and the short video he took while feeding it a treat.

you pulled your blankets closer to you with it twisting around your legs a little more. “i’ll watch after we get off call,” you said.

“i know,” he said. “but you can see the cat on the thumbnail. you said you like orange cats, right?”

you smiled, pulling the plushie that wonwoo had sent you months ago closer to you. “yeah...”

he looked up from his breakfast and then smiled after a moment. you liked the shy smiles wonwoo would give you whenever he saw you cuddling with it, never commenting on it. “i bought you something, too, by the way.”

“wonwoo...” you pouted. “you keep buying things...”

“it reminded me of you,” he said. “you’ll see what it is next time you come here... or the next time i compile enough to send over.”

you had made him promise a while back that he would only send any gifts if there were multiple. gift giving wasn’t really wonwoo’s love language (he always swore he preferred spending time with you more than anything else), but he had told you that everything reminded him of you now. even if he didn’t send things to you, he liked having things around.

(”it makes me feel like you’re here,” he had said. “jihoon asked why i have a jacket that doesn’t fit me here. it’d fit you, though. i’ll send it soon.”)

he had reached into his pocket, pulling out a braided bracelet with a little charm attached to it of your favorite animal. he looked up, noticing the way that your eyelids were beginning to droop. “if you’re tired, i’ll let you go--”

“noooo,” you whined. “i wanna see your cute face.”

“i love you,” he said, “but your health is more important.”

“you never say that when it’s you losing sleep.” you pouted, pulling the plushie closer to you. “wonwoo...”

“i’ll talk to you after you sleep,” he said. “okay? sleep well. dream of me.”

you always would smile so cutely whenever he said it, all because he said it so casually. he’d tell you one day that that smile was the reason why he said it.

if he couldn’t see you in person yet, at least he would leave you smiling when he had to end the call.

lee jihoon

this was... new. new in a good way, but still new. today was the first time that you were coming to see him, and now he was holding your hand, and his heart was racing in his ears.

lee jihoon, for all that he was, was completely in love with you. most people would probably kiss their partners at some point after meeting them for the first time. jihoon wanted to (believe him, he’d been daydreaming about kissing you for weeks after you announced you’d be visiting him in a month), and yet all it took was holding your hand for him to grow even more flustered. he’d daydreamed about holding you in his arms for the first time.

the bad part was that it took him two days to actually initiate any kind of skinship with you. he was holding your hand now, yes, but the past two days were filled with your hand brushing against his and jihoon’s face going red (and seokmin pointing it out the other day when you stepped away to get your drink at the coffeeshop you’d gone to). you knew that this was coming, though. he’d talked to you about it about how he’d want skinship with you, but he’d be a little awkward.

“you’re the first person i’ve really liked,” he had said while on call with you. “i want to, i just need time.”

and you had agreed easily enough to it: you understood him, after all. but the first time you took his hand after asking, he felt his heart race in the absolute best way before slowing back down.

he was with you. that was all that mattered at the end of the day.

lee seokmin

every single day, you received at least a thousand texts from seokmin. probably. you stopped counting months after you two started dating since the number was well over twenty when it came to pictures alone. he’d send you pictures of the sky, or of a dog he saw when he was on a walk, or flowers that reminded him of you, or the cafe he was visiting with his friends...

pretty much every place he went, he sent you a picture of. sometimes he’d send you pictures of himself with his friends, too. the latest was one he took of himself and mingyu while the two were getting dinner, a ‘wish my date was cuter’ tagged onto it. you teased him for insinuating that mingyu wasn’t a cute date and that you wouldn’t mind a date with mingyu.

“but what about me?” he had whined when you picked up the call a minute later.

you hummed, as if you were considering it. “mingyu has money...”

“sunshine,” he dragged out the name. “i have money. i’ll buy you a ticket here right now to prove it--”

you had to stop him because you knew he would if he did have the money. “seokmin... you know i love you.”

“yes?”

“why do you always send me pictures? i love seeing them and knowing what you’re up to,” you said, “but you don’t post all of them to instagram or anything.”

he went quiet for a moment. “it feels like you’re here with me if i show you things,” he said. “so i like sending you pictures until we go on a walk for real. do you want me to stop?”

you had to hide your smile lest the people around you started to judge. “don’t. i like it. you’ll just have to show me all these places in person someday.”

(and he would, gladly, the moment that you were finally within arm’s reach.)

kim mingyu

“are you sure you don’t want me to buy a ticket? i could do it. i can afford it.”

due to your boyfriend having a roommate to pay for half the rent and a big-city chef job, this offer was always on the table. hell, he’d asked you if you wanted to move in with him before. you shot the offer down since you were only five months into dating (kim mingyu was, in the words of his friend minghao, madly in love with you to the point where it was kind of cringe to see if you were anyone but you or kim mingyu), but you knew it’d always be on the table, too. he kept up jokes that he could move you in any day, though, and all you had to do was say the word.

outside of all of that, you would listen to him as he walked you through whatever recipe he was making for himself (and his roommate) for dinner that night. it was nice to watch him cook. it felt domestic in a small way, and you were pretty sure that was why mingyu liked it, too.

“i went to the museum today,” he had said once. “i’ll have to take you when you come.”

yet the next time you visited him a few months later, you spent the entire time cuddling in his apartment. he just laid out on his couch with you on his chest, arms wrapped securely around you. you’d tease him about all the things he wanted to show you, but he just kept his eyes closed as he held you close.

“i’m recharging,” he said. “i have to cuddle with you while i can.”

“i still wanna go out.”

“five more minutes,” he promised. “and then we can go.”

(sometimes you swore you had the world’s clingiest boyfriend.)

xu minghao

minghao sent you selfies far more than you expected him to. he told you that it was so you could cycle through them for your phone background with a confidence you hadn’t exactly expected from him. he’d asked for more pictures of you so that he could do the same.

(you did just that, actually. you liked having plenty of pictures of his handsome face on your phone.)

so when the two of you visited one another, most of your time was spent going out and doing all the sappy couple-y things that you weren’t able to do. the rest was spent in your apartment with minghao practically clinging to you the entire time. his friends would never believe it (minghao was in the habit of denying being clingy while his love for you was never in doubt) unless they saw pictures.

they never would, unless minghao decided to share them. you kept yours in an album that would never be seen by anyone outside of your relationship. you liked knowing that minghao was yours and the way he acted when the two of you were alone.

that was what brought you to now. minghao had arrived at your apartment not even an hour ago, and he was lying with his face buried in your shoulder as he inhaled the scent of your fabric softener. to everyone else, he’d merely say that he enjoyed cuddling with you. not that he was enjoying the warmth of your body, or the way that the two of you seemed to fit together perfectly, or the fact that he missed kissing your lips because it felt like the two of you were made for each other.

(minghao’s friends always said he was a romantic. you never knew how far that went until the two of you grew serious.)

“i love you,” he murmured against your neck, eyelids shut as he basked in the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. “i don’t want to leave.”

you almost wanted to tell him a quiet ‘then don’t.’ but you chose against it, instead wrapping your arms around him. “i love you, too.” i don’t want you to leave, either.

boo seungkwan

you were pretty confident you knew the exact layout of almost everywhere seungkwan went.

seungkwan facetimed you almost constantly. he always told you that you didn’t have to show your own face every single time, but he liked having you as part of his day. whether he was at his apartment, or at his favorite grocery store, or going for a walk in the city: seungkwan tried to bring you into it as best as he could. as much as you always appreciated his mealtime calls, you liked watching him go about part of his day with his headphones in as the two of you talked.

“soy sauce is in the other cabinet,” you had called out while he was making ramen one night for the two of you. it wasn’t fancy, but he insisted on spending one night in with you while you were visiting. he looked back down, brows raised before opening the correct cabinet. he paused, before pulling down the bottle he was looking for.

“how did you--”

you looked back from the couch. “i told you,” you hopped up, making your way over to him, “i know your apartment really well. like i know the grocery store you always go to,” you wrapped your arms around him before pressing a kiss into his neck.

he grew sheepish. “do i really call you that much?”

you nodded, planting another innocent kiss against his shoulder. “mmhm. it’s okay,” you squeezed him gently, “i like knowing your daily routine.”

seungkwan smiled as you planted another quick kiss against his neck again, especially when he felt the way your lips curled upward. he whined a little, “you’re distracting me. i’m trying to be a good boyfriend and make us dinner.”

“okay,” you started to pull away, only to have seungkwan catch both of your wrists.

“i didn’t say leave,” he said. “just... stay here and stop kissing me when i can’t kiss you.”

(he’d laugh a few minutes later when you pecked him on the neck again, just basking in the sweet parts of being together.)

chwe vernon

despite claiming to paying full attention to the movie, vernon was constantly touching you in a way that said he’d stopped paying attention twenty minutes ago.

it wasn’t sexual in the slightest. he just kept finding little ways to touch you. to pull you closer to him in little ways so that he could bask in the feeling of your skin against his own. whether it was playing with your fingers idly, or slipping his hands underneath your shirt just so he could feel the warm skin at your hips (you had gasped the first time because his hands were like ice and he’d sheepishly apologized), to the arm that he kept draped around your shoulders.

“you’re touchier than usual,” you finally mused aloud.

he looked at you, blinking once, twice, before realizing how clingy he was starting to get. “sorry, i’ll stop--”

“it’s okay,” you said. “just... you’re never this touchy.”

“well,” he started, “it’s almost two in the morning... and your flight is in a couple hours...” he sighed, “so i think i’m just trying to enjoy holding you while i can.”

you leaned forward, kissing him as his hands fell to your hips. “it’s okay,” you said. “let’s just spend the next few hours together, okay?”

“i really don’t want you to go.” he squeezed your hip. “baby--” he paused, unsure of whether to continue speaking. you watched him lick his lips, look off to the side for a moment, and then make up his mind. “seungkwan’s gonna tell you i’m moping tomorrow.”

seungkwan always did. he’d sent you a picture, unbeknownst to your boyfriend, of him just standing in the kitchen and staring at the mug you’d bought him with this upset look.

“and then you’re both going to go out with chan tomorrow night,” you said, “and sing your hearts out at karaoke because both he and seungkwan know how to distract you. i’ll be back before you know it,” you kissed him one more time. “just a little longer, okay? and then we’ll have our little apartment together and we can get a cat.”

“i know. i just love you so much, you know?”

you did. every little thing that he did was proof of that, but you could always tell by the look on his face alone. “c’mon,” you said. “let’s make the most of our time, yeah?”

he kissed you that time, drawing you in closer as the movie continue on, forgotten by the two of you. “yeah,” he said, about to slant his mouth against your own again, “let’s.”

lee chan

waiting on your boyfriend to make it off his flight was one of the most nerve-wracking experiences for you when it was the first time you two were meeting one another in-person. you’d met chan on an online forum, kept talking, eventually started crushing on one another... and the rest was history (once someone named seungcheol finally pushed him to confess to you, that is). he’d sent you plenty of pictures of every step he took: arriving at the airport with said-person-seungcheol dropping him off because he said that his hyung was a gracious one sometimes (useless any other time, he’d jokingly tell you, but the drive to the airport was still a nice gesture), getting out of security, eating a small meal because he’d stupidly skipped breakfast while too giddy to see you. the moment his flight landed, he’d sent you a picture with a “i’m almost there!!!” and a thousand heart emojis after it to help illustrate just how excited he was.

the moment chan saw you, he nearly dropped his bag before booking it toward you. only to stop steps away from you, suddenly nervous.

“hi.” he said after a moment, and you could see the gears turning in his head.

anxiety took hold faster than you liked. did he... not actually like you now that he was meeting you in person? “hi, channie,” you said, forcing a smile to cover your nerves. “how was your flight--”

“i really want to kiss you right now,” he confessed, face growing more red as he gazed at you. “can... can i hug you?”

you cracked a genuine smile, opening your arms to him. “yes, you--”

before you could say ‘can,’ chan had already stepped forward and drawn you into his arms. he hugged you tight, and you could feel just how toned his arms were as you were squashed against him. you felt yourself getting choked up as it set in just how real all of this was.

chan was here. he was standing with you, he was holding you. you could feel the warmth of his body against your own. he was with you.

and you felt yourself tear up. “channie,” you snaked your arms around him, shutting your eyes. “i’m glad you’re here.” your arms feel like home. is that cheesy to say? is it too soon...?

“i... i had a plan,” he said, “for when i first saw you. i told cheol that i was going to walk up to you and--and say something charming,” you could hear the way his voice was wavering, emotions finally catching up to him before jet-lag ever would. “just to see you laugh. and--and then i was going to tell you i love you, because it’d be in person for the first time and--”

“i love you, too, chan,” you mumbled.

“no, you can’t--” he drew back, roughly rubbing at his eyes with one arm. “you can’t say it yet. i didn’t--i didn’t say it right.” he held you by the shoulders. “i love you,” he said slowly, before cracking into a teary smile as he pulled you back into his arms. “i love you so much,” he laughed lightly, “i wasn’t supposed to cry--”

“it’s okay,” you shut your eyes. you never knew how much another person could feel like home until now. “i love you, too. i’m glad you’re here, chan.”

you could feel him nod. “i’m glad you’re here, too.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao @synthetickitsune

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