#mmmm yes continuity fuckery

[plutonicmirror]

Zero Hour (1994) #0 [and Zero Hour in general]

Let’s continue my Zero Hour first reading. After skipping some filler tie-in issues, I reached the finale. Again, funny numbering gimmick with a 0 issue. I think Marvel also had something similar with their -1 issues back then. Oh, the 90s!

Hal Jordan Parallax reveals his master plan: “I’m gonna erase the universe so hard, I’m gonna create a new one where everything is right and everyone is happy™”. Classic case of a hero reacting to tragedy the readers are supposed to know about the Emerald Twilight story arc, but I’m LARPing as a snot-eating 10yo in 1994 who just started reading comics and doesn’t have enough attention span to know the lore with absurd amounts of cope and a plan that sounds extremely good on paper, but that other heroes must oppose because morality yadda yadda yadda. Looking at you, Injusticeverse.

Shout-out to my man Danger, a D-lister that was brought to the final fight fOr a ReAsOn. I’m gonna be honest, I skipped his tie-in because I couldn’t give a fuck about who he was. I usually like me some B/C/D/Z listers, but I also don’t give a fuck about DC’s Titans and his book was apparently tied to that whole mess so I was like “meh, next”. I mean, this young dude is a nobody right....?

*one trip to a comics wiki later*

Oh...

Ahem, moving on. The Spectre shows up looking for REVENGE after all of the JSA folks get ultra aged up or straight up deleted from existence, even though they had previously asked him for help and he was like “nah that’s human bullshit, I ain’t movin’ any finger”. Good job, asshole.

So yeah, remember our D-lister? Turns out his power (which is absorbing energy and making explosions) is specifically needed to counter Parallax’s new Big Bang. So our heroes’ plan is...to recreate the universe exactly as it was. So basically Parallax’s plan but done by them because fuck you Parallax, you don’t get to play God. Except...it doesn’t come out exactly as it was, because there’s “““subtle changes”““. In a meta way, this event was supposed to be a soft reboot to fix some of the fuckery that Crisis on Infinite Earths (a big event I haven’t read yet out of fear) caused. Was it accomplished? According to Comic Pop’s Back Issues video on this event... it kind of wasn’t. Sidenote, I highly recommend that channel’s Back Issues series, after reading an event it’s fun to watch a recap that adds background bits for the uncultured (like me) even if I sometimes feel the critique of the host is too harsh.

A not-Killing-Joke’d Batgirl from another timeline who temporarily sided with Parallax because she was doing her best “I want to be a real boy” Pinocchio impersonation got killed in the heat of the moment, so the other normal-powered hero in the room (Green Arrow) gets pissed at his former bestie. After this whole event he ragequits btw and apparently a common joke is that many readers think that should be the standard reaction to the whole thing.

Parallax is seemingly killed but it’s comics so he’ll be fine, trust the process. If I recall correctly, Hal gets to be the new Spectre for a while [*Vietnam flashbacks of Identity Crisis*]. I forgot to mention that the current Green Lantern of the time Kyle Rayner and Wally West were also “killed off”. Again, they’ll be fine. I just didn’t care enough to read a wiki and find out how they come back. But that bit brings us to this “oh yeah, that happened” moment:

Power Girl was pregnant and gave birth to a baby with the help of Wonder Woman who conveniently decided to play midwife instead of stepping up to the threath. Bue hey, guess who also was sort of born in the aftermath of this event? That’s right, I was! So surely that means that baby is a very important char-

Whoops, nevermind.

FINAL THOUGHTS ON THE WHOLE EVENT:

“7/10 it was alright” - IGN.

The contrarian in me doesn’t hate it like most nerds out there do, but it’s certainly not the greatest event ever written. Granted I went in without knowledge of a lot of stuff, like how was I supposed to make sense of what was happening in the Hawkman tie-in issue aka the whole “let’s try to solve the problem of having multiple origins for this character by literally merging them all into one” thing? How could I know what CoIE fuckery needed to be fixed if I don’t know the big impact of CoIE besides Supergirl being killed off (this fact is cultural osmosis at this point)? Did it matter to me in the long run? Not really, because it’s not like I feel compelled to keep reading DC continuity and make sense of it for the time being. The art was good, the colors were pretty, the Parallax suit was rad, the pose Ollie made at the end was Jojo-esque and dramatic, Batman fucking off from the final fight via being killed was good.

Now, the tie-ins. Some of them were fun, some of them were a drag to read because I had no idea of background info for most of them. Almost all of the Superman tie-ins were fun to read with the exception of Steel because I was tired of wiki-hunting when I reached his issue, shout out to the alternate Jor-El and Lara, the Alpha Centurion and the “Superman tries to save the Kents during the chronal rift” stories (Superman vol. 2 #93, Adventures of Superman #516, Action Comics #703 respectively). The Legion of Superheroes and adjacent issues were extremely confusing to me as a casual but oddly engaging. I had no idea what was happening but it was sort of fun. It revived my itch to read LoSH comics even if I’m still feeling overwhelmed at the mere thought of going further with that task. Oh yeah, the silent Green Arrow issue was a lot of fun! (Green Arrow vol. 2 #90).

The characters introduced were a mixed bag. On one hand we have Bart Allen aka Impulse, who was created in the prequel to this event and was sort of interesting. But then the chronal rift time erasure bullshit happens and since he’s from the 30th century he basically does nothing of importance... Alpha Centurion, as I mentioned, was a fun read in his Adventures issue but in the core event he was... a convenient minion. Thriumph? Thriump was an annoying character, one of those “oh yeah he was totally there in the beggining of the big team but the big name characters just don’t remember tee hee!”. Don’t worry though, he would later die of a cold. Or something like that. Extant felt edgy throughout most of the core issues and the tie-ins, he really had that Madara Uchiha endgame villain energy...until he was revealed to be just a pawn that was just rebelling. And then he fucks off. Shout-out to this specific goofy panel:

Tie-in issues skipped: Anima #7, Batman: Shadow of the Bat #31, Damage #6, Robin vol. 2 #10, Showcase ‘94 #10, Steel #8, Team Titans #24 (yeah, this team got erased from existence and I just couldn’t care), The Darkstars #24. Also skipped: all of the Zero Month aftermath gimmick #0/soft reboot issues.

New Year’s resolution when it comes to DC? I’ll get around reading the 70s Green Arrow and Green Lantern book. Ever since I found some academic paper on it that mentioned the words environmentalism and malthusian I was like “ok wtf I have to read this”.

Tytyty for reading my blog.

[buckysforeverprincess]

What Do You Want From Me? Ch. 3

Lance Tucker x Reader

Words: 2035

Warnings: This chapter contains smut. Don’t read if you are under 18.

A/N: Things get heated between the reader and Lance. Enjoy.

You enter Lance’s house an hour later through the kitchen door. Thanks to the open floor plan, you can see him pacing around his living room waiting for you to arrive. Lance looks angry and frustrated, and you weren't sure you would be able to deal with him anymore today. Setting your phone and keys on the island you make your way into the living room to endure the wrath of Lance hoping he wouldn’t piss you off any more than you already were.

“Where the fuck have you been?! I told you to ‘get here now’ an hour ago! What part of that did you not understand?” His arms are crossed at his chest and his voice raised.

“Sorry I took a few hours of my day to not cater to your every goddamn need! I must have missed that part in my terms of employment.”  

You've reached your asshole quota for the day. There was only so much of his fuckery you could take, and he had maxed it out at the photo shoot. He’d get it all back in spades if he continued on any further.  

“If I'm calling you, then it must be pretty fucking important!” Lance starts moving closer to you.

“Everything is always ‘pretty fucking important’ to you, because you make every single thing about you! News flash Tucker, the world is on it’s own axis and does not revolve around you!”

“So, my needs don't mean a fucking thing to you?” He's standing right in front of you now.

“You always need something Lance. You're like a little fucking kid! It's quite exhausting keeping up with your needs all the goddamn time!” You're looking up into his blue eyes. There's something about them. Something you've never seen before.

Lance is looking down at you, all the tension from before gone. “You know you're cute when you're angry.” He reaches out and places his hand on your cheek. You take a deep breath and inhale at the touch, and you realize his body is now pressed up against yours.

“Cute is for puppies and babies. As you can see, neither apply to me.”

Your eyes move from his eyes to his lips. His tongue escapes just enough to wet them, and it makes your breathing hitch and your pulse rate increase.  

And then it hits you. You close your eyes for just a moment, but it's too late. Lance has turned you into a hot mess! You can feel the heat between your legs grow and there's no way to stop it since she's firmly pressed himself up against you. You have to stop this now, but can you? All your sensibility has disappeared, and you've fallen for his classic womanizing tricks.

“I'm gonna call you baby, cause daddy's about to take real good care of you.” His is voice full of lust, and you lose all coherent thoughts.

That's when you feel his lips press hard against yours. At first you didn't respond, but Lance is nothing if not persistent, and you finally cave and open your mouth, giving the man exactly what he wants.  

Lance presses down harder, deepening the kiss and you let out an involuntary moan, as your tongues battle each other for dominance. He takes that as permission to continue and picks you up by your ass and you wrap your arms and legs securely around his body.

Lance never breaks the kiss as he carries you from the living room to the kitchen and places you on one of the barstools at the island. He grinds his hips into your open legs, and you can feel his hard length through his jeans.  

“Feel that baby?” He’s panting from the extended kiss, “you did that to me.” Lance grabs your shirt and pulls it over your head, exposing your pink lace bra. “God, I can't wait to see your tits!” You take a moment to roll your eyes at his comment, and he's already taken off your bra exposing your breasts. Jesus Christ, he works fast.

His hands start to roughly palm your beasts and he leans back in for another wet kiss. You're moaning in his mouth at the movement of his fingers on your nipple, and you can feel the arousal inside your core as your juices start to pool inside your panties.

Like the self-proclaimed sex god he is, he senses your want, and removes his right hand from your breast, making his way down to the skirt at your thigh. He raises the hem just enough to allow him access to the matching pink panties of the bra he may or may not have ripped earlier. His fingers find themselves gravitating to your mound, and he can feel the heat radiating from your center.

“You're fucking wet for me ain't ya baby?” Lance is now kissing his way to your breasts. “Want daddy to touch you? Rub your pretty little clit till you cum?” Holy fuck, the mouth on this man!

“Yes!” It sounds more like a cry.

“Yes what?”

You know what he wants to hear. “Yes, daddy…please!”

Lance places his fingers on your clit and slowly starts to move them in circles. “Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking wet for me! Can't wait to get my cock inside you…fuck you so good!” 

“Oh god!” You let out a loud moan, and his mouth finds it’s way to one of your exposed nipples. He's licking and sucking and biting and all the sensations at once are just too much for you and you can feel your orgasm approaching fast!

“Fuck Lance…I’m…cum…so close…” You pant as your release builds up.

“You gonna cum for me baby?!” Lance slips two fingers inside you now, while his thumb is rubbing your clit. “Wanna cum all over daddy's fingers? Let daddy feel how good his baby girl feels when she cums?”

That's all it took. You close your eyes and let out a high-pitched wail, as your muscles tense, your vagina twitches and your orgasm takes you over the edge.

“That's it baby, cum for daddy! Get daddy all nice and wet so he can taste you.!” Lance’s fingers never stop as he rides out your release, feeling your core clench tightly around his fingers.  

Lance keeps his fingers deep inside you as your breathing comes back to normal. You open your eyes, and he removes his hand from your wet mound. He's staring into your eyes as he takes his fingers and places them in his mouth, letting out a moan that could compete with the animal kingdom.

“Mmmm…, tastes so good. You did such a good job, baby girl.” Lance praises you, even though you really did absolutely nothing at all.

You start to look around for your discarded clothing and decide it's time to make a move.

Lance chuckles and smirks at you, “were not finished yet. I've been waiting a long time for this, daddy' wants to fuck that pussy nice and hard!” He says as he's undoing his belt buckle. The speed at which he takes off his jeans and boxers should win him a gold medal.

To say he was perfect was an understatement. He had once referred to himself as the almighty Zeus, god of all gods, and today you agreed with him. His muscular body was so well defined, you wanted to weep. The ribbon tattoo on his groin was less than appealing, but holy fuck his cock was the things that dreams were made of. The shaft was long and thick, and all you could think about was how it was about to tear you apart! Looking at this man in his entirety, you knew Jesus himself said a silent prayer for all the angels when Lance Tucker was born.

Lance rips off your underwear and throws them god knows where but, in that moment, you didn’t even care. He moves himself back in between your legs and lines his hard shaft up your still wet opening. “You ready baby?” He asks, and all you can do is nod your head.

The sound you both make as he enters you is something out of a porno: loud and inarticulate. “Fuck! You're so fucking tight!” Lance moans out when he's all the way inside you.

“Just give me a moment…don't you dare move!” His manhood too much for you. You hadn't had sex in two and a half years, and his cock was by far the biggest one that’s ever been inside you.

You relax yourself around him and adjust to his size. “Move...slowly.” Lance smiles and starts to move his hips back slowly. He stops at your entrance and doesn't move forward and you look at him in a puzzling stare.

“What the fuck Lance?” He smirks and plunges hard right back into you. “Fuck!” You moan, as he's moving in and out of you at a forceful pace.

“You fucking like that?!” Lances’ thrusts becoming harder and deeper as he hits your g-spot repeatedly.

You can't speak the sensation is so intense, so you nod your head in conformation.

“Use your words baby!” Lance fucks into you harder and you begin to lose all coherent thought.

“Yes...fuck Lance…don't...stop!” You feel your orgasm building up again for the second time today.

“Daddy's fucking you so good baby, huh?! Taking my dick like a pro!” Lance is thrusting faster and his grip on your hips is getting tighter.  

You let out a deep moan and know you won't last much longer the rate he's going. You're beginning to feel light headed and a tingling sensation at your center. “Fuck...I'm...cum...”

“Yeah, you wanna cum on daddy's cock baby?” Lance isn’t letting up and you can't take anymore it anymore. “Cum for daddy baby, cause daddy's about to come too!”

That’s when you fucking lost it. You felt every muscle in your body start to tighten and you clenched down on his cock and felt your release wash over you like a wave at sea. The intensity from your orgasm too much for Lance and you can feel him empty inside you coating your walls with his release.

Lance leans his head on your shoulder as the two of you catch your breath and come down from your sex induced high. You just got the fucking of your life from Lance ‘The Fucker’ Tucker. You'll most likely be feeling that for the next week.  

Reality is a dirty whore that likes to show her head at the worst time. Instead of basking in the euphoria in the after-sex haze, it hits you that you just had sex with Lance Tucker. The same Lance Tucker you work for, and the very same guy you were in love with. The best sex of your life, is now the biggest mistake of your existence, and there was no way things would ever be the same again.

Lance places a gentle kiss to your neck, and then moves to your ear. “You good?”

“Yeah…” It comes out ragged and unsure.

“I'm gonna… and I'll get you something to clean up with, okay?” Lance still hasn't looked up at you since your orgasms hit.

“Thanks.”

You feel him move out of you and he bends down, pulling up his boxers and jeans, and leaves the kitchen, never once looking in your direction. As soon as Lance is out of sight, you quickly grab your shirt and throw it over your head. You give no fucks about your bra and panties; the latter were ripped anyway. Grabbing your phone and keys, you run out the kitchen door, and quickly got in the car and drive away from his house as fast as you could.

God! You can't believe what just happened! What the fuck were you thinking? What brought that on and why didn't you stop it? And why did you leave? You just bolted. No better than a one-night stand. But wasn't that what you were? Fuck!

Driving away from Lance’s place, phone in the passenger seat, you didn't notice the text from an unknown number:  

‘Hi Y/N. It's Jase. I got your number from Claire. I was hoping we could meet.’

[aadmelioraa]

For the prompt thing - Bellarke + "is there a reason you're naked in my bed?" (I'm looking forward to seeing what you do with this one) 😉😙

Hehe this was fun, thanks Elly  {read on ao3}

As far as academic conferences went this one had been extremely grueling, though not without its merits. It wasn’t exactly why Bellamy had gone into education, but if Kane wanted his favorite teachers to attend endless lectures on integrating technology into the classroom and the powers of student driven learning, he’d go along with it.

By the last panel Friday afternoon, Bellamy was just looking forward to taking a shower and collapsing in his own bed. He thought of little else from the time he boarded his flight, and when the airport shuttle finally pulled up outside his house he was so fixated that he didn’t notice the strange set of keys on the entryway table.

He dropped his bags in the living room and immediately headed for the shower. The hot steam cleansed his soul of the inane conversations he’d been forced to overhear on the plane ride home when his iPod had died. The apartment had been dark and still when he arrived, which meant Murphy was probably spending the night at Emori’s. Nothing out of the ordinary there.

Wrapping a towel around his waist and gathering his belongings from the living area, Bellamy dropped his bag inside the door of his room and turned on the light. Sleep could not come too soon.

The second the lights flicked on, he realized he wasn’t alone. The bed was unmade, like he’d left it. What he hadn’t been expecting was for it to be occupied.

Tousled blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and sheets grabbed in panic to her chest…he was face to face with an apparently naked Clarke Griffin.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here? I live here, this is my bedroom…what are you doing here?”

Clarke flushed and clutched the sheets until her knuckles went white. “I…Murphy said you wouldn’t be back until Saturday night.”

“Do you always sleep in my bed when I go out of town, or just on special occasions?”

“I don’t…my place is being fumigated this weekend, and since you were going to be out of town I thought, Murphy said I could crash here until you got back. I was going to leave tomorrow morning, you’d never even know I was here.”

“That’s creepy.”

“I just mean,” Clarke rolled her eyes, “it wouldn’t have been an imposition.”

“Mhmmm. Well I guess that explains why you’re in my bed, though it doesn’t explain why you’re naked…”

“You’re one to talk!” Clarke shot back, giving his entire body a sweeping look. “That towel is…not doing a whole lot. And I’m not naked,” she pulled down the sheets to reveal the strap of a worn tank top.

Bellamy chuckled and adjusted his towel slightly. “Ok. Fine. Neither of us are technically naked.”

He took a seat at his desk without exposing himself, not an easy accomplishment, and noted with pleasure that Clarke was fighting to keep her gaze at a respectable height.

“So what are we going to do now?”

“I’ll go crash with Raven at Shaw’s, I guess…”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Well, we’re not going to share your twin bed, Bellamy. Seriously, what grown ass man sleeps in a bed this small? What do you do with overnight guests?”

“My ‘overnight guests’ aren’t usually as demanding as you, Clarke.”

Clarke rolled her eyes again. “Yeah, ok. Seriously, you need a real bed. This is barely big enough for one person.”

“It’s big enough for you. I’ll crash on the couch.”

“Now you’re being stupid. I can go sleep in Murphy’s room, I guess.”

“Murphy hasn’t washed his sheets in at least three months. Why do you think he’s always at Emori’s?”

Clarke wrinkled her nose. “Gross.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Bellamy said magnanimously, standing up and moving to his dresser. He rifled around for some comfortable clothes, feeling Clarke’s eyes on his back. He turned around. “You’re not going to fight me on that? You could at least pretend.”

Clarke shrugged. “I mean, I’m already here…”

He snorted. “Yeah, can’t argue with that.”

“You really don’t mind?”

“I mind a little.”

Clarke considered. “I guess I can live with that.”

Bellamy laughed and grabbed his phone charger out of his bag. “Have a good night, Clarke.”

Clarke smirked. “I will.”

—

Bellamy woke the next morning to the smell of strong coffee. Clarke was standing over the stove, holding a spatula.

“I didn’t know you could cook.”

Clarke turned, grinning. “I can’t. But I can toast bread and scramble eggs with moderate competency. Hungry?”

Bellamy sat up and stretched. “Starving.”

“Good. Breakfast’s almost ready. You still take your coffee black?”

“Mhmmm. Thanks.”

“So what I still don’t understand,” Clarke said over a bite of toast, “is why you arrived home a full day early.”

“I didn’t. Murphy got the days wrong, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess…”

“You sound suspicious.”

“Of Murphy? Absolutely.”

“What possible ulterior motives could he have?”

“Just general fuckery,” Clarke shrugged. “Anyway, I’ll be out of your hair soon. I just got a text from our landlord, we can move back in this afternoon.”

“It’s nine a.m. What are you going to do until then?”

“I dunno. Murder Murphy, maybe.”

“He’s not worth it.“ Bellamy’s eyes darted from Clarke’s face to his plate and back, trying to deny the sudden nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. “If you’re free, I could use help with something.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes. “Help with what?”

“I was thinking about buying a new bed. You know, now that you’ve ruined mine with your Clarkeness.”

“Moron. Most people would consider themselves lucky to find me naked in their beds.”

“You weren’t naked, remember?”

“Not that time.”

Bellamy almost choked on his coffee and Clarke dramatically patted him on the back.

“There, there. Are you really going to buy a new bed?”

“Yeah, I mean…you weren’t wrong. I’m twenty-five. It might be time.”

“It’s definitely time. Come on, if we hurry we can still make the best garage sales. You never know what kind of deals you’ll find. ”

“Ok, but we’re definitely buying a new mattress.”

“Obviously.” Clarke gathered her hair up into a ponytail, and headed back to his bedroom. “Frame first, then mattress.”

She emerged a moment later wearing jeans and an oversized tee.

“Is that my shirt?”

“Yeah, I figure if I ruin this you’ll let me take you clothes shopping too. Your wardrobe needs serious help, Bellamy.”

“I’m not made of money! And my wardrobe is fine.”

“You own the same two shirts in four colors. That’s it.”

“Whatever. I know what I like.”

“You like boring things.”

“Maybe. I also, for some reason, like annoying blondes who have way too many opinions on my personal life.”

Clarke paused by the front door. “Like…as friends?”

Bellamy hesitated too, biting his lip. “Not exactly. Wasn’t that obvious?”

She turned back slowly, a funny expression on her face. “I mean, I wasn’t sure…”

“Well, now you know…” He shoved his hands into his pockets and fixed his eyes on the floor. “If you don’t want to go shopping that’s fine, I can forage out on my own. Might be better, since I know you’ll be obnoxious about what styles and sizes are acceptable—“

Suddenly Clarke was right in front of him, and she was resting her hands on his chest, and then—

He was kissing her, and she was kissing him back, and they were leaving a trail of clothes on their way to his bedroom.

Clarke very thoughtfully refrained from critiquing his mattress until they’d finished fucking, and she was laying back in the crook of his arm while he played with her hair.

“We could get really good at this if you had a better set up here, I’m just saying.”

Bellamy snorted. “I think we did just fine.”

Clarke propped herself up on her elbow. “Fine, yes. Excellent even. I’m talking really mind blowing, acrobatic sex—”

“We had to be pretty acrobatic at one point…”

But the covers had fallen away from Clarke’s breasts and Bellamy found himself slightly too distracted to carry on a verbal conversation.

“Well,” she continued, after round two. “We missed most of the good yard sales. I say we try again next Saturday. We can find you a good deal, we just have to start looking early enough.”

“Ok.” Bellamy ran his thumb over her cheek. “Next Saturday morning. It’s a date.”

“We’re going to have sex at my place in the meantime. My entire left side is cramping. This bed is tiny, how do you live like this? How do you get laid like this?”

“It’s a daily struggle.”

“Yeah. Daily. Sure.”

“In my defense, we just had sex twice.”

“I remember. You still think I’m annoying?”

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna hold it against you. You still think I’m a moron?”

“Mmmm…I may have to reconsider.”

“Keep me posted on your decision.” Bellamy pressed a kiss to her cheek.

Somehow, despite the lack of room and lumpy mattress, Clarke managed to drift off to sleep a few minutes after Bellamy did. Murphy found them there when he arrived home that afternoon. If he did take a photo, it was only to prove to Raven that he’d won the bet.

[otherpens]

pleasepleaseplease tell me about Anne Rice fandom wank? If you don't want to that's okay I will google it but it's more fun hearing about fandom wank from fandom friends! *gets out the popcorn*

Okay, I was never IN it, so much as ADJACENT TO IT, (I wanted to be goth in middle school but I scare easily and still had one foot in the Christian youth group summer camp tomboy aesthetic and had zero disposable income, so never quite made it on an outward level, and I didn’t get into online fandom or anything until I was about 16 or so, so the main shenanigans that started all this shit were a solid 2-3 years in the past by the time I turned up,) but I’m a messy bitch who loves fandom drama and Anne Rice is legend in a bad way.

So AS FAR AS I KNOW/RECALL around the early oughties she puts a statement on her website that she is a Hard No on all fanfiction involving her books. And, like, intellectual property arguments aside, this is still somewhat in the Wild West of online fandom involvement and fan works really starting to hit something like the public consciousness with LiveJournal and blogs and forums and archives. Fans are nervy as fuck in this brave new world of...you can just write things...and put them on the internet...and pretty near anybody can find them and read them and maybe even give feedback. Only Anne Rice is like, hell to the fuck no, and starts sending out C&D letters in particular to more well-known fandom individuals/fic authors, apparently tying in some references to their own jobs and personal lives or whatever because she had her people dig for info to use as leverage, and nobody has the time/money/balls to take ANNE RICE to court, so of course they all just back the heck down. About the same time she has fanfiction.net remove all works based on her books as per a letter from her lawyers and that’s been the state of play ever since, as far as I can tell. You cannot find Anne Rice fanfic hosted online unless you already know where to find it. If it exists at all, it’s so far underground as to be functionally inaccessible even to seekers...because presumably, Anne Rice is looking for it, too, in order to destroy it. (And this is why fics of the time had DISCLAIMERS, like I started doing it on my old fics just because I saw other people doing it and didn’t understand why at the time or how it even constituted legal protection but yeah.)

Also she was like “Real people leaving negative reviews of my books on Amazon? Mmmm don’t like that.” (This was well after she’d admitted she refuses to let her manuscripts be edited, anymore.) Also anyone who didn’t like her writing was clearly just taking the wrong view of things because her authorial intent is all that matters, obvs. (Millennium Anne Rice is just about where all the fuckery kicks off, but she’s apparently continued threatening/doxxing people for negative reviews until quite recently so I have no reason to believe her attitude has changed.)

In the years following, Rice is kind of just continually doubling-down on her position, with fairly open disdain for the web/internet side of things and also going through some kind of religious transformation to what appears to be a much more fundamentalist Christian stance but I know way less about this particular aspect of her personal life and how it came out in her later writings so can’t comment so much, but...that’s a thing. That happened. And she went on to write some Bible fanfic of her own, so, uhhhhhh...but I guess whoever wrote the Gospels doesn’t have lawyers to send after her for her retelling of the life of Jesus of Nazareth.

Roughly five or so years back she starts to...I don’t know if relax is the word? But she basically is like “I don’t read fanfic of my work” which is FINE and apparently she isn’t hauling out threats of legal action against fic authors or whatever, now, which is...better, I guess, than her prior response. She’s also gotten more to grips with the world of online interaction with her fanbase because maybe she finally fkin realized no one wanted to leave phone messages to be transcribed and faxed to her in the year of our lord 2018. So UGH FINE she’s on the interwebs now but GOD HELP ANYONE who writes fanfic or criticizes her writing even on their own book review blogs, like...she will COME FOR YOU.

More recently she defended the author of that fuckin concentration camp ‘romance’ and yes Rice’s own chosen turn of phrase involved the term ‘lynch mob’ and ‘censorship’ because writers are the real victims when the readers take to the internet to sound off on authorial bullshit, apparently. (GROSS.)

So if her works are going to be adapted for a new era it’s going to be interesting as fuck watching this thin-skinned bigoted grandma respond to an audience that’s more emboldened to call out bullshit as they see it than ever before. I hope she cries.

[jeffybruce]

Allow me to introduce you to Jonzu Jones

I know I have said this a bazillion times but I can never stop praising the internet for allowing me to expand my web, pun intended, of “friends” to include some of the most prestigious, gracious, intelligent, talented, beautiful and creative people in the world.

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My latest addition, complements of Instagram, is Jonzu Jones! You might say ... who? You might say what is a Jonzu? But, all of your questions will be answered by reading this very articulately written interview.

I am one of those weird people who use Instagram not only for visual stimulation but also as a search engine since I have this peculiar habit of actually reading the hashtags, following them and it is that little idiosyncrasy which leads me to people like Jonzu. Needless to say, the first thing that caught my eye was his incredible physicality and then via countless conversations…. I have to come to learn there is way more to this young man that just his outward appearance. He is a hive of talents and aspirations.

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That old adage about not judging a book by its cover is particularly apt here as this man is so much more than just skin-deep beauty and yes, I am occasionally taken in by that beauty but this time I feel confident that I have made a friend who deserves attention both as model and stylist as you will see in his images.

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So, now that I have gushed about him, he is going to tell you about his life, some of which is hard to believe, and then … well you’ll have to read all of it to find out more… and believe it or not ... this know it all namely, ME, … actually learned something from what he had to say ….

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Jeffrey Felner: Let’s talk about your career path... was this the plan? How did you arrive at your present working situation?

Jonzu Jones: I feel like my career is always taking twists and turns. I had a vague idea from young of what I wanted to do and it has always been in the realm of art and fashion. I am still learning and growing, figuring things out along the way and to be honest just winging it. I will say I had a distinct vision of the man I wanted to be and more and more I became this idealized version of myself that the 12-year-old drew up. Currently I am a freelance fashion stylist, which I’ve been doing for around 7 years and I’ve been lucky to work with some truly incredible artists during that time. Styling came about as a kind of extension of me wanting to be a designer. I studied fashion design in high school and college and for so long I truly believed that was my true innate calling. I may revisit design in the future but styling has really been my big passion. While studying design, I was assisting fashion editors and stylists for school credit and to mold my approach to design. After doing that for a bit and loving it, I branched off as a freelance stylist and the rest is history.

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My second career which is fairly new is being a model. I by no stretch of the imagination believed this could be me as an angsty teen. I was the weird kid most of my life and still in a lot of ways am that same kid. I grew up hating my body, uncomfortable in my skin, shy and awkward as fuck. I was content aiming to be unseen and more behind the scenes but still having a name. Being on set more and more as a stylist and dressing in my outlandish garb, I would on occasion get snapped by the photographer. These unexpected instances unlocked something in me and I guess deep within me was a craving to be in front of the camera more. This was short lived and after a 2 ½ year stint playing house wife, gaining 80 pounds, and losing a lot of confidence, I needed a reboot. After leaving my marriage at 24, I did a full visual reset, getting tatted, ripped from home using Thor’s (Chris Hemsworth) app Center, and jumping full on into modeling. Side note… at this point I binge watched Top Model and was also religiously studying the model greats of the 80s to present times. While on set as a stylist I found myself studying models more than usual as well as photographers’ notes on poses. I am still figuring shit out as a model for sure but I’ve definitely learned a few tricks of the trade that have come in handy. The path continues and not sure where exactly it’s going to lead but I’m sure as hell having fun on this journey.

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JF: Do you or did you have any style or any type of mentors or those who continue to inspire or inspired you as you have matured and why them?

JJ: One of my biggest stylist inspirations is Patti Wilson**. She truly knows how to do avant-garde but also make it sexy, dark, and accessible.

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JF: If you could invite any 5 people to dinner, who would they be and why?

JJ: Lady Gaga for sure. She’s a fellow Aires and I think we’d connect on weird and obscure references.Daphne Guinness because she is a major style icon for me and I need any excuse to roam her probably never-ending closet.Cody Fern because he’s a cutie and his personal style is pretty damn amazing.

If she were still alive, Edie Sedgwick because she really inspired me as a kid as being my glamour girl. It wasn’t Marilyn or Judy; it was Edie with the sickening Smokey eye. Someone not here anymore but David Bowie. Still a huge inspiration to me, visually and aesthetically.

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JF: If you could choose any collaboration or situation, what would it be and why? would it be as model or stylist and why?

JJ: I would say to work with Steven Klein. His work is a huge inspiration to me and I pretty much reference at least 1 of his images in every shoot I do. In an ideal world I’d model for him with Patti Wilson styling me. She’s the one stylist whose decisions I’d never question.

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JF: Can you tell what was your most amazing experience doing what you do and what was the worst experience you encountered and why?

JJ: I think my most amazing experience so far was shooting with Robin Lord Taylor a few years ago. I’ve worked with quite a few celebs and high-profile people but I’m pretty much a comic geek and mega fan of Gotham. Robin’s character Penguin was one of my top 3 favorite characters on the show and having the opportunity randomly to work with him was so amazing. He also really rocked it on set!

Worst experience was working with a specific photographer whose name I shall not mention out of respect but that whole day ended up being a nightmare. His first words to the team was “I usually have a better team I work with normally” so that kind of set the bar for the shit show of that shoot. There’s was a moment where he chucked a pair of shoes because they were not Prada or luxury enough. Besides the fuckery of that day and being that it was a non-paying TFP shoot for a known NY magazine, he actually tried to sue me and a couple other team members from that day for copyright since we posted the final images in our portfolio. Twas messy indeed and in retrospect, I should have probably handled things differently at the time like packing up and getting the heck outta there. New, evolved, and candid me probably would have ripped him to shreds but I was younger and a lot nicer…. still nice but don’t take as much shit as I used to.

https://www.instagram.com/jonzu/ click image to enlarge

**Patti Wilson has worked with Steven Klein, Steven Miesel,mmmm