#we should wonder why this is the only fantasy teenage girls/young women seem to have | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iwanthermidnightz · 4 years ago

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When she was 18, Taylor Swift wrote a song called “Fifteen.” “Back then I swore I was going to marry him someday, but I realized some bigger dreams of mine,” she sang, sounding more like a wizened great-grandmother than a rising senior.

“Fifteen” is evocative, if a little sanitized: Nimble mandolin strums mimic the nervous-excited butterflies of the first day of high school, as Swift sings of wide-eyed hope that “one of those senior boys will wink at you and say, ‘You know I haven’t seen you around before.’”

There was a certain emotional truth to the lyrics — do several years’ age difference ever seem more consequential than when you’re a teenager? — but some older listeners were skeptical. “You applaud her skill,” wrote a critic for the Guardian in a mixed review of Swift’s second album, “Fearless,” “while feeling slightly unsettled by the thought of a teenager pontificating away like Yoda.”

Swift, now 31, sings, “When you are young they assume you know nothing,” on “Folklore,” an LP that is both compositionally mature and braided throughout with references to the specific, oft-denigrated wisdom of teenagers. By the end of that song, “Cardigan,” the narrator has excavated such a heap of florid but emotionally lucid memories that she must conclude, with the force of a sudden revelation, “I knew everything when I was young.”

Though it’s not as flashy a topic as exes, fame or A-list celebrity feuds, age has long been a recurring theme in Swift’s work. A numerology enthusiast with a particular attachment to 13, Swift has also released a handful of songs whose titles refer to specific ages: “Seven,” “Fifteen,” and, of course, “22,” the chatty “Red” hit on which she summed up that particular junction of emerging adulthood as feeling “happy, free, confused and lonely at the same time.” Like her contemporary Adele, Swift seems to enjoy time-stamping her music, sometimes presenting it like a public-facing scrapbook that will always remind her what it felt like to be a certain age — even if, with their millions of fans and armfuls of Grammys, neither of these women is exactly typical.

Swift’s critics have often seemed even more hyper attuned to her age. Perhaps because precocity played such a role in her story from the beginning — at 14, she became the youngest artist to sign a publishing deal with Sony/ATV; at 20, she became the youngest to win the album of the year Grammy — many listeners have been fascinated with how her evolution into adulthood has, or hasn’t, played out in her songs. People comb Swift’s lyrics for allusions to sex, alcohol and profanity as meticulously as MPAA representatives do a borderline-PG movie. Particular attention was paid to her 2017 album “Reputation” and its several mentions of drunkenness and dive bars — even though Swift was 27 when it came out.

The relative puritanism of Swift’s music up until “Reputation” did feel like an intentional decision: Unlike the female pop stars who broadcast their “loss of innocence” as a sudden and irrevocable transformation, Swift seemed acutely conscious that she did not want to repel younger listeners — or lose the approval of their parents. At best, it felt like an acceptance of her status as a role model; at worst, it had the whiff of a marketing strategy.

But the mounting obsession with whether Swift was “acting her age” also reflected a larger societal double standard. Famous or not, women face much more intense scrutiny around age, whether it’s those constant cultural reminders of the biological clock’s supposed ticking or the imperative that women of all ages stay “fresh-faced” or risk their own obsolescence. (“People say I’m controversial,” Madonna said in 2016. “But I think the most controversial thing I have ever done is to stick around.”) And while girlish youth and ingenuity are rewarded in some contexts, they’re also easily dismissed as silly and frivolous as soon as that girl strays too close to the sun — as Swift has experienced time and again.

Despite having once been a teenage girl myself (unlike a lot of music critics), I confess that I am not completely free of these internalized biases. I was initially dismissive of “Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince,” a song that appeared on Swift’s 2019 album “Lover.” The first few times I heard it, I wondered what a grown woman on the cusp of 30 was doing still writing about homecoming queens and teenage gossip.

But over time, I’ve come to appreciate the song and its dark vision, which acknowledges cruelty, depression and the threat of sexual violence (“Boys will be boys then, where are the wise men?”) more directly than any of the songs Swift wrote when she was an actual teenager. The senior boys in this song are not the sort who wink and say to freshman girls wholesome things like, “Haven’t seen you around before” — which, unfortunately, makes them feel more authentic. Even the title “Miss Americana” alludes to a larger world outside the high school walls, and the greater systemic forces that keep such patterns repeating well into adulthood.

“Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince” now feels like a precursor to some of the richest songs on “Folklore,” which finds Swift returning once again to her school days with the keen, selectively observant eye of an adult. Consider “Seven,” an impressionistic recreation of her perspective at that age. The second verse, charmingly, plays like a first-grader’s breathless sequence of unguarded observations:

“And I’ve been meaning to tell you, I think your house is haunted, your dad is always mad and that must be why/And I think you should come live with me and we can be pirates, then you won’t have to cry.”

But “Seven” is not cutesy so much as poignant, because of the tensions that result when Swift’s adult perspective interjects. “Please, picture me in the trees, before I learned civility,” she sings in a yearning soprano, prompting the listener to wonder what sorts of feral pleasure she — and all of us — have exchanged for the supposed “civility” of adulthood.

Quite a few songs on “Evermore,” Swift’s second release of 2020, also toggle between past and present, conscious of what is lost and gained by the passage of time. The playful “Long Story Short” passes a note to Swift’s younger self (“Past me, I wanna tell you not to get lost in these petty things”), while “Dorothea,” like “Seven,” revisits a fevered childhood friendship from the cool perspective of adulthood.

Most striking is the bonus track “Right Where You Left Me,” a twangy tale of a “girl who got frozen” (“Time went on for everybody else, she won’t know it/She’s still 23, inside her fantasy”). That language echoes something Swift admits in the 2020 Netflix documentary “Miss Americana”: “There’s this thing people say about celebrities, that they’re frozen at the age they got famous. And that’s kind of what happened to me. I had a lot of growing up to do just trying to catch up to 29.”

But Swift’s recent songs, at their best, understand that “growing up” isn’t always a linear progression in the direction of something more valuable. Take the “Folklore” songs “Cardigan” and “Betty,” which use an interconnected set of characters to chronicle teenage drama and celebrate the heightened emotional knowledge of youth. “I’m only 17, I don’t know anything, but I know I miss you,” Swift sings in the voice of James, a high schooler who broke Betty’s heart and has shown up on her doorstep to ask forgiveness. Maybe that is a melodramatic thing to do; maybe it is the sort of thing adults could stand to do more often. Swift’s music helps us to remember that growing up doesn’t automatically mean growing wiser — it can just as easily mean compromise, self-denial and growing numb to emotions we once felt with bracing intensity.

In a gesture to regain control of her songs, Swift is currently rerecording her first six albums (her master recordings were recently sold by Scooter Braun’s Ithaca Holdings to the investment firm Shamrock Capital). Last month she released a note-for-note update of her early hit “Love Story,” and has promised to release an entire new-old version of “Fearless (Taylor’s Version)” later this year. It has been amusing to think of Swift going back and inhabiting the voice of her teenage self: On the face of it, “Fifteen” is particularly surreal to imagine her singing as an adult.

In another way, though, “Fifteen” — with its distant reflections on the youthful folly of expectations — makes more sense and carries more emotional weight being sung by a 30-something than it does an 18-year-old. Perhaps Swift was preparing for such an exercise when she made “Folklore,” an album that shakes off years of scrutiny and finds her reveling in the creative freedom to be as young or as old as she wants to be.

#posting the whole article with my emphasis because i thought this was very interesting #taylor swift

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glamrockmonarch · 4 years ago

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The Land That Our Grandchildren Knew (B!Reader x Brian May)

THIS WORK IS PART OF THE ORIGINAL TIMELINE

Requested: NO

Type: SFW, FLUFF ?, ANGST.

Summary: A little glance at life back to normal after Brian and B!Reader get over the cheating scandal.

Warnings: None.

A/N: So this came out of nowhere in my mind. I have struggled with being creative for a while and I just do not know why(?) but here we are! I hope someone out there enjoys reading this one.

*For anyone who does not remember (lol it has been a while): B!Reader (often B!R) is "Brian!Reader", and R!Reader (or R!R) is "Roger!Reader".

“The one thing he did not know was how much I loved him. In a previous life, in a time when things were so much more complicated. When war was splitting us apart and leaving us breathless. Motionless in a world of aggressive turmoil. There was little we could do when everything was amiss. All around us things were blowing up, giving in upon themselves the buildings fell, and the cities died along with their lights and spectacles.

“The love I grew and nurtured for him was the last reminding power of the old Earth, scattered through the cosmos like dust as I searched for him in a ridiculous journey. I did not meet a king in a tiny planet, and I never saw a rose grow on the dry lands of the foreign space countries. We had each other but time made it so that I was here today while he was here yesterday. Today was never ours, today was a promise we believed and ate up and followed with blind eyes until the moment when the sound of truth, deafening and cruel, locked us out of each other’s life. And still, forever, my love for him is true and enduring. Out there, I know he will feel my presence in the air, see me in the clouds, savour me in the smell of rain and grass. He will miss me when the night is cold, and the sound of wind reminds him of my voice… Yes, he will be empty when he hears the silence, the way I will always feel too when I look back at Earth and regret every second spent away from the one who called me Venus.”

The crowd claps and smiles and I see the people in the front look at the books in their hands with expressions of confusion and deep thought. A good reason to write something is to make people wonder, so for B!Reader this one was a success. She had taken so long to finish the manuscript, not that she was being lazy; with the scandal of Brian cheating and the twins taking sides, it was hard to focus on this. This book was not what she intended on writing when she began doing research for it. It started with the Irish War of Independence, she went around Britain meeting historians with much better understanding and knowledge on the topic. It soon turned upside down when the news appeared on every single form of media… Brian’s stunt. She would call it what it was now; he had cheated.

It was hard to get over it. B!Reader took time off with her mother in Scotland, she had taken the kids with her, much to Brian’s displeasure, but he was in no position to complain. When she came back home, she was still defeated by the details. Brian’s lame explanation sounded more like an excuse but even she had to admit that her husband did not have the best track record when it came to women. She was probably the one he had been the most loyal to at that point – even when he had cheated on her once.

So, she tried. They sought professional help. A therapist. First couple’s therapy, and then one-on-one sessions alone. She hated every second of it, which could not have been fun to hear for their therapist. Nothing seemed to be helping, in fact B!Reader talked to a lawyer in secret… but her career was also on the line at that point, and she was desperate for ideas, desperate to reconnect with the only man she ever truly and completely loved. Her manager had the idea, “read some of Brian’s stuff, maybe ask him about his PhD work, maybe he will inspire you and if he doesn’t at least you will have spoken to each other… it’s worth a try”. And so B!R did that, although not in the way her manager had meant. She was stirring her on the direction of reading some of his lyrics not his space dust thesis… Nevertheless, the story began there.

B!R could not understand much, and she wound up spending a lot of time talking about physics and space with her husband. Brian was a patient teacher, she already knew that, but it was now being confirmed to her. He was also happy to be able to go on and on for hours, the topics where his cup of tea, and they had numerous cups of tea too while B!R took notes and began toying with a historical fantasy mix for her next book.

Today she was reading from her favourite chapter in the book. It had been a massive hit; one she could not quite understand. If she was being honest, the book was more like therapy for her than her actual therapy sessions had been. She cried while writing it and poured a lot of emotion into it, which she rarely did. Her writing had always been more …impersonal, presented almost as a sort of biography of fictional characters rather than real moving parts of the imaginary world they were living in.

She had never written such an odd story before, with time skips and a weird space journey concepts implanted in the middle of 1920 Ireland.

“You did great, mum.” A proud Fred wrapped his arm around her middle.

Even though the teen boy was still that, a teenager, he managed to already stand a couple centimetres taller than his own mother.

“Thank you love, did you get anything of that?” She wondered, wrapping her arm around him in the familiar way a mother does.

Arm around his shoulder, soft play of the tender fingers on the dark curls on the back of the head of her “little boy”.

“Nothing at all,” he smiled and shrugged, honesty dripping in shameless glee from his tone. “But that’s the cool part, I don’t think anyone gets it.” The younger of the twins looked at his mother up and down in her bright blue dress. “Except Dad. Was that the point?”

B!Reader looked at her son and inhaled a deep long breath, which she held for a moment. Her brows furrowed and her mouth moved like that of a fish.

“Maybe.” She conceded.

“Hey mum, would you sign my book?” Harry interrupted, bringing along Jazz and a peculiarly uninterested Max.

Harry gave his mother a wide smile and put a copy of her own book in her hands.

“For Harry, please.”

“Dork,” Max rolled his eyes.

He was the only one to admit he had not finished the book yet the previous weekend when Fred mentioned his mother was doing a reading at a local bookstore while they sat by the Taylor’s pool. And he rushed to get through it. Max was not dumb, and he managed to grasp some of the concepts in the complicated plot, although he did not let on to any of his friends.

“Loved the wormhole bits Mrs May.” Max said once Harry had his signed copy reading for Harry with Love. “That dark hole and the speed of dark and light near the end were mind-blowing. I never thought of you as a fantasy writer!”

B!Reader nodded and blushed at the compliments. Max was a lot like Roger in that he did know how to make a girl blush with what appeared to be little effort.

“I am glad you liked it,” she said, a trace of pride in her voice.

“I really wish Darragh and Conor had ended up together,” Jazz voiced from around Harry’s tall lean and awkward teen figure. “They were obviously meant for each other.”

Fred had been in tears when he read the ending of the book. Of course, he would have hoped for his mother’s first queer paring to end together but what that did was echoing life.

“You have to be the eighth person who’s said that to me today.”

R!Reader, Roger and Brian were in a conversation of their own next to the long table B!Reader was about to sit before to meet some fans and sign as many copies of her book as time allowed.

She eyed the silver hair on her husband’s hair, she had been discreet when describing Darragh in her book. A tall, talented, middle-aged, idealist Irish man. A man born in a difficult time. A man who fell in love by mistake, with Conor. A young man described often as immature, who enjoyed a quiet life on board of a spaceship when he got caught up in a black hole and wound up going back hundreds of years and miles into the past. Conor had almost been killed in his attempts of helping his beloved Darragh in fighting what he considered to be hiswar. The battles gave their relationship meaning, although it was never spoken about between them. The adoration was always palpable and present to the last page. Down to the moment when Conor acknowledges that his lover cannot come with him once he finds the way back into his ship, and then it turns into a matter of will. Darragh is revealed to have a similar story, only that… he was left stranded in 1905 with no way back to his ship. “The voice of Venus” was really a metaphor for B!Reader. A complicated one, as her feelings were when she had to love the man who broke her heart. She felt lost the way Conor felt, but she could tell Brian had been lost for a while before the entire ordeal – defeated in the same manner as Darragh. And it was fitting, he was older, he was educated. He should have known better than to play in the physics lab with those dangerous materials. Brian should have known better than to play with that old woman. Conor could have turned his back on Darragh, he knew he was of no help now that he was so invested in the past – now their present. He knew Darragh and himself would never be able to be together if he stayed and they would most likely get killed if they marched on. So B!Reader made them split. She was about to leave Brian when she started writing her book, so it made sense. And when she realised, she did not want to end her marriage, she still wrote it that way because this was the ending she had seen coming for herself before – one she fortunately managed to evade, which still was the ending for many couples.

B!Reader watched the teens as they began discussing the book, Max and Jazz were defending the plot, Fred joined in and the three of them seemed to be getting passionate about proving Harry wrong. The eldest of the group was stubborn about his stance on Conor being right to leave Darragh.

His mother could not help but remember that same stubbornness from the first few weeks after the story broke. Harry had been the one to take it the hardest. When they packed for Scotland, she had to stop him from shattering his project guitar, the yellow guitar he and Brian had been working on for a while. “I don’t want it! I do not want anything from him! He is a liar!” He had yelled, with the side of his face still reddened from a slap he received from Brian. She still could not believe she managed to stay impartial at that moment after the mess that had happened in the kitchen when Harry insulted his father – earning a slap from him.

“It’s alright,” B!Reader placed her arm around the twins’ shoulders. “Conor had to go back anyway. He had a family in the spaceship.”

“What?” Jazz was the first one to open her mouth.

With a laugh, the young writer looked at the confused faces around her. “He could never stay…” She shrugged.

Harry’s expression flashed with a difficult emotion, which both Jazz and his mother noticed.

The short girl flipped her long blonde hair and checked the time on her phone, “no wonder I’m hungry! Who’s coming?” Her blue eyes searched around in an almost innocent manner.

“You got to be joking, we JUST ate.”

Max stepped back from his sister and Fred followed, “sorry, I told dad I’d get lunch with him.”

Blue eyes flipped onto Harry’s figure. B!Reader gave him a squeeze and let go, the sigh he let out being enough of an answer for Jazz to show a large smile, reaching out to grab his hand and pull her to her side. It almost seemed a pass of the baton.

The boy walked taller than Jazz and still, it looked like he was the smaller child. She was sure they had been doing a good job as parents, although that slipdid a number on Harry. The curly haired boy pulled the glass door open and let Jazz go first, only to have her childishly cling on to his arm once they were outside, a smile breaking his serious expression when his young friend told him something – they were too far for B!Reader to make out what Jazz said.

“Where are those two going?” Brian walked up to her.

He had a cardboard cup of coffee in his hand, which he offered to her. With a mumble she took it and had a testing sip – it was too bitter, but it would do. “Nando’s. Probably.” She gave her husband a soft smile.

Brian nodded in silence, a reflective look on his face.

“He needs some time, Bri.” She guessed what he was thinking about.

“It’s been a year,” he said with caution.

“He is getting over it, love.” She took a step closer to Brian and whispered, “he’s picked up the guitar again.” They shared a look before someone called for B!Reader and she left her husband with a peck on the cheek.

#original timeline #about the original timeline #b!reader x brian may #b!reader #brian may #present day!brian may

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herwonderland7 · 4 years ago

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 》 the prophecy, the discovery

summary 》 Aera decided to go on a discovery, despite the warnings that her mother warned her.

characters 》 Gae Aera, White Queen, The King

warnings/author’s note 》 blood, being bitten, this is a long one, i already warned you!

genre 》 fantasy, got7!as!werewolves

“Maybe you should keep that belief a little longer. Perhaps it will show themselves some time,”

There was once a saying or a prophecy where a young girl would emerge from the sea where flowers would bloom with a single touch of her fingertips, cherry blossoms trees would sing, the trees in the forests would be as lively as centuries ago and restore happiness to the King and White Queen.

The White Queen soullessly stared at the huge family picture, before wiping away her knowing tears as she walked away from it.

It was a picture of her along with her husband, the King of Morian and her beloved, so loved, daughter. Princess Riana Aera.

People know her as Aera.

Everyone loves her - including the trees, the flowers, the petals and animals.

Being with Aera was like being with a bundle of joy and sunshine, but ever since having the thought where she was being killed, the White Queen could feel her own soul draining - draining for her beloved daughter.

The Princess of Morian wasn’t exactly being killed, she was actually being taken and taken care of by a loving, human couple - they were actually one of the White Queen’s close friends, the only ones that she trusted.

The story goes way back when the White Queen stumbled onto a magical lake, where she transported herself to the human world. It was magical yet horrifying - the rest were history as she made friends with the human couple.

The White Queen knew her princess was all right, growing healthily as the White Queen would visit the lake but recently, it seems the magic in the lake somehow drained and the Queen couldn’t see her little princess anymore.

“My love!” A yell made the Queen look back at the loud voice, seeing her husband running towards her with a slight frown.

“What is it, my King?” The White Queen weakly smiled as the King pulled her into a tight embrace.

“You won’t believe it, my love! Come!” The King exclaimed, earning a deep frown from the White Queen as she was being pulled by the King, as they ran out of the castle to meet by a great, wonder sight.

The White Queen’s eyes slowly widened - a smile finally formed on her lips.

“It cannot be,” The White Queen muttered as she grabbed a whole hem of her gown - running towards the cherry blossom trees as she watched the petals magically flew around in unison.

The White Queen hoped that it was true as she leaned on the tree, earning a slight gasp as she looked at the tree with amazement, then towards the King.

“I can hear it sing, my love. The prophecy is true, my King.”

“You’re a healer, Aera! Thank you!”

“Healers are in fairytales, Mrs Watts. But thank you.”

“You don’t believe in fairytales, my dear?”

“I used to believe in fairytales but now, I only believe in what I see, Mrs Watts.”

“ Maybe you should keep that belief a little longer. Perhaps it will show themselves some time,”

The young woman sighs heavily, the old woman's words stick onto her mind.

It’s been a year ever since Aera had that strange dream of wolves and dragons - plus a royal family.

It’s strangely ridiculous but it was interesting.

As Aera was walking through the trails, there were loud piercing screams - not far but it was near.

All of the men from different cottages ran towards the scream - it was the duty for men and boys to help, which is ridiculous to Aera as they made it seem that women or girls can’t help - in other words in their eyes, women and girls are weak.

Aera was different out of everyone in the small village.

She was the first female doctor and it seems everyone looked up to her - she was talented, had a gifted ability to treat people with the knowledge of medicines and Aera is actually the prettiest among all young women in the small town.

“Ms Aera!” A voice called from a young man, causing Aera to look at him with a slight frown after seeing the worried and hurried look from the young man’s face.

From which direction he was standing, he certainly came from the forest.

“Ms Aera! We need your help to treat an injured boy in the forest!”

“What was he doing in the forest anyway? The forest is a prohibited area to enter,” Aera said in a hurry as they both had to fasten their pace as they entered the entrance of the forest.

There were many stories from passersby that they could see glowing eyes and few cries from the forest.

There were a few risque villagers, mainly kids and teenagers who would not listen to the warnings that they returned with a bite that was classified from a dog - a big one.

The kids and teenagers said that they were wolves, they were not normal wolves - they were the mythical ones, the gigantic ones.

It traumatized them and soon people started to enter the forest and they returned back with horrified stories like seeing shadows of a white figure and hearing terrifying cries.

Aera could only laugh as if the forest is really haunted, a right mind would just leave it be and not enter the forest. That is why they were being disturbed.

“I don’t know, Ms Aera. He said he was playing soccer and the ball entered the forest. He didn’t see where he was running into and he was already in the forest when he realized.” The young man explained and Aera could only sigh.

Both of them could already see a group of men and women, surrounding an area whom it must be the bitten dog.

“The village doctor is here!” The young man called as all of them turned towards where they were. Aera didn’t hesitate to run towards where the boy was.

Her gaze that at first was a determined, courageous one turned pale, as her eyes landed towards the boy’s leg.

Aera quickly got on her knees as she immediately took out her starter-kit for treating wounds and injuries.

The first thing she did was to cleaned the wound, then apply pressure to stop the bleeding.

She then began to inspect the bite, cleaning the wound one more time with alcohol wipes to disinfect, then applying the medicine for the meantime before tying the the applied wound with a bandage - at the same time she started to wander.

This isn't a dog’s bite.

It’s impossible.

The town men said that there was no such thing as wolves living in a forest.

They already checked the whole forest and no tracks were found.

“Ms Aera. Are you okay?” The boy quietly asked the dazed Aera who quickly tied a knot on the boy’s feet. He was lucky the bite wasn’t that deep that he had to do surgery.

This wolf was nice enough to spare his legs.

“I’m good. Now as for you young man, visit the village clinic again tomorrow to get proper medicines and no more playing near the forest, okay?” Aera pinched his nose, causing the boy to nod enthusiastically.

The group of men and women thanked the village doctor, as usual saving the day when someone is injured or sick.

Watching the injured young innocent boy being held by other older boys and seeing the crowd dispersing, Aera started to pack her suitcase with a slight smile on her face when the sound of a twig made her snap towards the direction of the sound.

She squinted her eyes while looking around the forest.

It wasn’t as eerie as what the villagers and passersby said.

Aera slightly shakes her head before standing up while grabbing her suitcase. She was about to turn her heel, but she strangely turned towards the sound of the twig. Unknowingly gazing far.

It brings her back to the dream about the royal family and wolves.

“It’s all just a dream, a myth.” Aera muttered before fully turning back, not knowing someone, more like a creature was staring from far with glowing eyes.

‘A dream?’

“Really, Aera?”

“Yes, mother! It’s a bite of a wolf. It was strange because the bite wasn’t that deep and strangely, it was as if this wolf who bit the boy’s leg spared his life.” Aera muttered the last part, didn’t want others to hear as they were standing in front of the window, near the kitchen sink.

Her mother could only smile while shaking her head, hearing her daughter rambling her words.

“Mother, do you… believe in fairytales?” Aera's question made her mother’s grip onto the soapy plate fall onto the basin with a clunk.

Her mother turned towards Aera, seeing there were curious eyes in the 23 years old eyes.

“I.. do,” her mother muttered and Aera’s eyes widened as she leaned forward towards her.

“Really?!” Aera exclaimed, followed by a chuckle from her mother as she was wiping the plate with a smile, then putting it away as she dried her own hands before turning towards Aera with loving eyes.

“Now, now. Don’t need to get excited. I believe in fairytales but… I’m a believer of ‘I will only believe what I see’. So far, I have not yet seen any wolves.” Her mother answered with an amused smile, walking passed the young woman.

“Which is why I planned to visit the forest in about an hour's time,” Aera muttered but her voice was clear for her mother to hear, this caused her mother to snap her head towards Aera with a deep frown.

“You’re joking,”

“I’m not laughing, mother.” Aera dead-panned, causing the middle aged woman to tilt her head.

“You wouldn’t, Aera. It’s dangerous.” mumbled the aged woman, causing Aera to look away while biting her inner lip.

“It is but someone, who is young - not too young, and not too old, just right - has to come and clarify if the rumors are true, Mother. So far, only the younger ones and the ones we never trust their words for said things that don't make sense!” Aera argued after seeing a disapproval look from her mother.

The middle aged woman knew the young woman in front of her was courageous and stubborn. Those two personalities always end up in a bad result.

“You should believe them, Aera. No matter if you don’t see it or not. This is a dangerous case where I don’t allow you to go there,” scolded her mother and Aera scoffed as she stood near the door, leaning against it while folding her hands.

“Mother, I am a 23 years old girl. I’m afraid that I have aged into an adult,” answered Aera in amusement.

The middle aged woman slowly turned towards Aera, which made Aera frown slightly to see the way she looked at her.

There was a mixture of sadness, longing, and definitely fear - which is weird for Aera.

She could be wrong but she knows how her mother looked when she is disappointed or angry, or sad.

This was different from her everyday life.

“Then I won’t treat you like a kid. But I did say that I warned you and I absolutely didn’t say I agree with your decision on entering the forest.”

Aera gulped as she looked around.

It’s broad daylight, the sun was still up but she wondered why her heart was beating rather fast and why she was so afraid when she herself was the one who made the decision of going on a discovery, an adventure if what those villagers said was true.

Her arms immediately wrapped around each other, feeling the cold breeze hitting her clothes arms.

C’mon, Aera. You’re the one who wants to come here.

Woman up.

Aera heaved a sigh of courage as she followed the trails, going deep into the forest - while capturing the scenery of leaves falling onto the ground that was filled with yellow leaves, indicating it was autumn season.

It was pretty in her eyes, realizing that it wasn’t so bad after all - as she picked up a yellow leaf, admiring it’s bright color.

Her attention was being disturbed with a sound of a twig, coming from behind as she quickly turned back - her eyes searching for anything or anyone.

She could feel her heart beating quite fast while trying to calm herself down. It could be a bird.

But birds chirp, so far, I don’t hear any chirpings.

Aera shooks off her thoughts as she begins to walk further down, the trail going downwards.

She slightly stopped at her tracks, turning slightly behind where she could see the entrance of where she entered the forest. Aera knew if she took further more steps, she couldn’t see the sight of other cottages nor the entrance.

Letting out a small smile, Aera continued to follow the trails down without any regret.

So far her discovery was good, until the cold wind started to fill her body warmth, knowing she was already deep into the forest when all of a sudden, her attention went towards 5 trees away from her - seeing a figure hiding.

“Hey!” squinting her eyes to see clearly, Aera yelled as she confirmed it was really a figure.

It was a boy.

She didn’t think twice of the outcome as her feet started moving before her brain. Aera ran, following the footsteps of the boy - making sounds of scrunches as they stepped onto the yellow crispy leaves.

The footsteps started to get loud and multiplied, followed by a strange sound of horn, it was like a long, deep yet soft conch horn - which clearly didn’t weird out Aera as her train of thought was to follow the boy, not knowing what was about to happen next.

As if falling from the tip of a mountain, she suddenly fell from a hill and Aera immediately let out a scream - seeing a hidden waterfall, then realizing it was a hidden waterfall canyon.

The pressure when she fell, Aera guessed that it was a canyon because the height where she fell was more than 100 feet.

Her eyes were kept open as her guessing was right, her body fully submerged into the water.

This was weird for Aera, extremely weird.

There were second thoughts that she may die, or she had confirmed that she died but here she is holding onto her breath while trying to swim her way up for oxygen.

It was weird for her as the water was so clear, more clearer than the ponds back on her own cottage.

Aera swims her way up, seeing the sunlight shadowing onto the clear blue sea - not knowing what she is about to see next.

It’s as if my body has experienced it before, like I have swam deep into the sea where in reality, I have never swam nor I have met in contact with the sea water nor a swimming pool.

𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 ⇿ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

#got7 wolf au #got7 wolf scenarios #got7 scenarios #got7 au #got7 imagines

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iggy-dearest · 5 years ago

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Happy valentines day Vergil

Vergil peeks out from the shelter of his pages for what seemed like the thousandth time that day.

Valentines Day

You two used to celebrate it before your ‘unplanned separation’. However, since he then decided to stay by your side and be the dutiful husband that you deserve. And he’s determined to treat you liek the queen you are. He doesn’t know what to do, every plan he comes up with just seems to have an equally horrible chance of blowing up in his face!

Your poor husband

Should he take you out?

No you don’t like crowded areas that much. What if you have a panic attack while your with him. He doesn’t want you to feel scared!

Should he make a homemade gift?

No, he’s never been good with crafts, that’s more of your forte.

What if he takes you to one of those spa’s you and the other women go to your occasionally?

No, you don’t like certain people touching you and it also seemed like something you did with just the girls, and Dante said. Whatever the hell that means.

Maybe he should make you some dinner?

Although, he really can’t cook, like at all. He remembers when you first started traveling together in your teenage years, he nearly burned down that cheap hotel room. ‘How do you burn water’ was your question. He never got near the stove again, traumatized and deeply embarrassed by the fact that he’d burned water. Although he supposes tea counts? Doesn’t it?

Tea!

He should get you tea. You appreciate it as much as he does. As far as he knows your taste in tea hasn’t changed much. He also noticed that you seem to be running out of your favorite blend and if he remembers correctly it isn’t very easy to come by.

Perhaps he could somehow get Dante to leave you alone for the night? Although he wonders how he should approach the matter with him.

The door opening as abruptly as it did was what snapped him out of his thoughts and what made you jump in your seat. “I’m back!!!” Dante hollered like he was on the worlds biggest sugar high. “Why are you yelling” you asked, although you don’t know if you want to know the answer. You spotted the familiar shaped box in his hands, “did someone get a treat” you teased with a glint in your eye that made your husband weak in the knees. “You bet your ass I did” Vergil saw the smile on your face when you saw Dante sporting his own. A feeling gurgled in his stomach, why did you have to be so close with Dante?

Taking a box into your hand you saw a name written in beautiful penmanship,,, one Dante never could have forged even on his best day. “Who’s Sandy” you asked propping yourself up on the desk. “New girl at Sammy’s” Dante said now sitting in your old seat behind the desk. “Oh~” you know who he’s talking about she looked young apparently has a really big crush on Dante.

“Either of you get any yet?” Dante questioned

“No, not that I know of” you sighed out,stretching your back out, how long have you been sitting in that chair. “I think I’m gonna head home for the day. Okay?” You asked.

You honestly have no idea what your gonna do, you just don’t wanna stay with him anymore. You don’t know if he’s going to try anything with you. Quite frankly if he does it means he’s trying to wine you back, which is confusing for its own reasons and if he doesn’t it means that he doesn’t want you anymore which hurts more then it sounds like. You just don’t know. Maybe you should just go home, listen to some opera to clear your head make some tea to calm you down and maybe watch a movie. A silent film seems fitting and not as pathetic as your love life.

“Ok” Dante agreed, what the hell has his idiot brother been doing this whole time. Honestly, does he not see a perfect opportunity when it happens to be standing a few feet away from him and is walking out the door.

“See you tomorrow” and with that you leave to drown yourself in tea and perhaps some wine.

“What the hell have you been doing for the past 3 hours, Vergil?!?” Dante yells.

Vergil turns his head to the window once he sees you cross the street he gets up himself. Time to get his affairs in order, Dante straightens up as he sees his brother get up from his seat.

Is he going to stab him?

On Valentine’s Day

Nice way of showing your brotherly love, asshole.

The younger twin watches as his brother wordlessly puts his book down on the coffee table and walks out of the establishment. Heading in the opposite direction that you were in.

Where the hell was he going?

~~~

It’s here he knows it’s on this block. You mentioned a new tea shop that had just opened up that carried your favorite blend. He knows because the look on your face was not one he could ever forget. Vergil walked down the street although it seemed more like cantering. His eyes strained a bit from the light reflecting on the shops naked windows. Than back to the small scrap of paper he had jostled down the name of the store.

Infused

Was the name. Simple easy to remember, he likes it.

Walking inside he is greeted to a mix of smells. The strongest being from the fruity blends that you happen to dislike. He doesn’t much like them either.

“Welcome” said a store clerk. The clerk approached him “Hi I’m Joshua, if you need any help, just ask me” he said with a well practiced smile.

When did humans get so..nice?

“I’m looking for a specific blend” Vergil started. “Peppermint lavender” he finished dammit if only he’d taken the nearly empty container. That would definitely help his situation. “We have a few choices, if you’d like I can bring them out and you can see which one it is that you’re looking for” wow, when did humans become so helpful.

Vergil nodded he didn’t usually prolong his time with others, but for you he’d do just about anything. Because you’re worth it, you always have been. He was just a fool and didn’t always see it.

He heads to the counter where the salesman has all the teas laid out for him. He squints his eyes as he trues to remember what your container looked like. It was...white..with purple outlining.

The salesman watches as the man who’s face looked like it was chisled out if marble and looked like he should be at a fantasy fair tried to make up his mind. He hopes he doesn’t choose the one thats mainly white, he’s had his eye on that one for a while and it the last one!

“This one” Vegil decides pointing to the one that’s the most similar to yours. He really hopes that it’s right, it’d be really embarrassing if it wasn’t.

Shit!

He choose the one he had his mind on. Maybe he could just say that it’s been reserved?

No, the salesman saw him before he walked into the store. He actually walked past it a few times too, but he had a look on his face that screamed ‘determination’. The salesman sighs internally, he probably needs it more then he does.

“Excellent choice” he says his rehearsed line and moves to the cashier.

~~~

Vergil hopes he’s not to late. He runs through the street. It’s getting late, he’d stopped to pick up some takeout that you liked courtesy of Dante for the information. He wants to get there before 8 o’clock otherwise he’d come off as wanting sex.

Wouldn’t he?!?!

And then he remembers, he’s got a sword that allows home to teleport. Really Vergil crosses his mind. With two precise swings he is at your apartment building.

However, this might be the hardest part. Going to the door of the woman your head-over-heels for and asking for her to let you into her safe space.

~~~

You sigh that’s enough of the silent films. Maybe you can leech off of your sister-in-law’s disney account. You decide Disney makes everything better. It even makes you feel better then you crazy love life.

You look at your glass, shit! That was your last spot of tea. Oh well, that just means you’ll have to break out the wine. What goes better together then Disney and wine.

You’re about to get up and stretch when in the place of hearing a tired joint popping, you hear a knock. Who the fuck knocks at, you peer at the time on the cable, 7:50pm. It had better not be your annoying neighbor, your not in the mood for his dumbassery. You’d much rather just sock him in the chin or slam the door on his nose, either work for you.

The knocking comes again. “I’m coming” you’ve decided it’s not your neighbor, they wouldn’t have waited so long to place their next knock.

So who the hell is it?

“Vergil” is the only word to make it out of your mouth as you open your door. What is he doing here. He looks a bit out of breath, is he alright?

“Hello”..hello...hello. Who the fuck even says hello anymore. Thats it Vergil’s used up all of his confidence. Why is it that he can face demons with no problem yet he can’t even face his love without freezing up. “Um,” what the hell are you supposed to say. “Is everything alright” you let out, sort of leaning and hiding behind your door. That door is your best defense right now if anything happens or if you just wanna slam it in his face because he talked out of his ass.

“Yes-no-uhm” christ can someone help him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day” he mumbles

“What” you ask, he must be nervous if he’s mumbling around you. Though, you’re glad you still have that effect on him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day” he finally manages, his voice filled with a bit more confidence than before.

You watch as he hands you a cylindrical container. It looks familiar to you, “this is..” you’re surprised he noticed “where did you find it” your so surprised, that’s good right? “The tea shop you mentioned” was his only answer “Vergil, I mentioned that weeks ago” your surprised he still remembered, even you didn’t remember it all the time despite being a frequent costumer there. Your glad that he did though-oh is that Chinese food.

“Thank you” sincerity dripped through your voice, and for that it’s worth it for him. You’re worth it, you always will be. “Would you..like to have dinner” now your surprised “I’d love too” you moved aside and let him in. You hope he likes Disney.

~~~

Vergil could not be happier then he is in this moment. You asleep and curled into his side, empty plastic containers strewn put on the coffee table complete with disposable chopsticks. With a Disney movie ‘Alaadin’ you said the name was, illuminating the otherwise dark apartment. He sees you shiver slightly, he takes the throw blanket that is draped over the back of the couch and lays if on you, his neck will hurt in the morning but he really doesn’t care. He’s not moving, no man in the world would. He slowly reached for the remote and turned the TV off.

I love you, he thinks as he starts to drift off.

I love you, you think as you snuggle closer into the source of your warmth, and you have a feeling that it won’t go away anytime soon.

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thealpacalypse-archive · 6 years ago

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A handy guide to avoid accidental transphobia

For cis people in the Druck fandom who write fic, headcanons or meta and don’t wanna mess up

Including questions like: Is David trans? Is he beautiful? Is he wearing a binder this whole damn time?? What’s his story?

hey everybody, I’ve debated making this post for a while now because I don’t want to seem ungrateful to the people who are already trying, and I know that there are other trans people in this fandom who are already doing a pretty good job educating people, but then again, why not share my thoughts as well.

In this post, I’ll collect a few headcanons, meta, and other discussions that i’ve seen around here and that made me personally uncomfortable - now be aware that i’m only one trans person and that other people can have other opinions on this, but also i’ve done trans activism for a few years now and i’m a gender studies major, so I definitely know what i’m talking about. also, a fair warning: this is gonna get long as heck. okay, let’s go.

Is David trans? The truth is: We don’t know yet. We only know that the actor who plays him, Lukas Alexander, is a trans guy. Now I’ve seen various people speculate if that automatically has to mean that David is trans as well, and obviously, no. David could be cis for all we know, and yes, casting trans actors in cis roles can be a pretty cool thing. However, if you’re cis, it would be cool if you reblog trans people’s opinions on this instead of shouting loudly about your own opinion, especially if it is that David should be cis for whatever reason. Why is that problematic? Trans activists are currently fighting for representation in media. There aren’t many trans characters we can look up to, especially not such young characters in a show that has such a big impact on a generation of young people. Many trans teenagers have never seen themselves represented in media, and many trans adults like myself are still craving for that good, good representation. Most of the time when we get trans characters, they’re played by cis actors - and because it’s mostly cis men who play trans women and cis women who play trans men, it perpetuates the idea that trans people are just especially well dressed up men and women who trick people into believing they’re ‘the other sex’. (ugh) Even though that’s a different problem, it links to this one as well, because trans stories in media are rare, and it’s even rarer to have them portrayed by trans actors. Yes, it would be revolutionary and gender-redefining if trans actors could play cis characters (or just characters whose cis or trans status is never brought up in the first place), but that’s one step ahead of the game in my opinion and tbh, cis people saying that they want David to be cis for whatever reason is just... suspicious.

Is David beautiful? Well, I’m sure we can all agree that this boy is a sight for sore eyes, and i’m pretty proud of this fandom for weeding out the transphobic assholes who called him ugly at the beginning of the season. I’m sure by now they’ve all seen the error of their ways because HECK, in levels of attractiveness, David is a king. Though it might not be the best to call him ‘beautiful’, ‘pretty’ or other usually female-gendered words when you’re cis and describing him. Why is that problematic? Listen, there’s absolutely nothing inherently bad about calling boys pretty or beautiful or whatever - I personally am an absolute goner when it comes to soft boys™ and their aesthetics, and I also think that denying boys to be soft and pretty is misogyny in a way, because it’s implying that female-coded things are bad. However, there are many trans boys (and other trans and nonbinary folks who were assigned female at birth) who feel uncomfortable when these words are used for them because it can be linked to misgendering or remind them of times before they were out. Trans people are often highly aware of their body and looks, because the way we look is heavily observed, judged and policed by society, and most of the time, being seen the (gendered) way we identify is the only way we get respect and basic decency. We don’t know yet if David personally has a problem with being called beautiful or whatever, but we also don’t know how the actor who plays him feels about that, and there are a couple of trans boys in this fandom who’ve already expressed their discomfort with these words. So in order to protect them and make this fandom safe for them, it seems like a small price to pay to consider our choice of words more carefully when we describe David, and try to avoid female-coded words.

What about David’s chest? Now this one is tricky. I’ve seen discussions about it a lot: Does David wear a binder, did he wear it the whole time he was with Matteo, does he maybe not even bind, did he have a mastectomy? The underlying tone of these discussions is worry - we all want David to be safe and comfortable, and seriously, let me tell you once and for all: a binder shouldn’t be worn longer than 8 hours a day, it shouldn’t be worn when sleeping, and it shouldn’t be worn when doing sports (also relevant for our jock boy). It’s not safe and it can heavily damage the breast tissue, ribs, and lungs - it can be literally life-threatening. It’s perfectly fine to worry about this, but it still feels uncomfortable to watch cis people debate the state of a trans boy’s body in such detail. Why is that problematic? Trans people’s bodies have always been scrutinized and judged - by medicine, by the state, by society as a whole. We always have to prove ourselves and our bodies, and convince people that we’re not just tricking them into believing we’re someone we are not. A lot of ‘true womanhood’ or ‘true manhood’ apparently revolves around genitalia, at least cis people seem to think so. Which is why so many trans people (and let’s be real here, especially trans women) have to deal with the question: “Have you had the surgery yet?” - meaning, did they already undergo the one surgery among the various ones trans people might consider, that reshapes their genitalia in a way that is acceptable to society. Cis people often use these questions about our bodies and the way we change them to delegitimatize us and take away our status as a ‘real’ man or woman. Other than that, trans people’s bodies often get portrayed as something freakishly exotic by cis people; there’s a certain voyeurism about it, and it often gets sexualized - just look at the way trans women are treated in mainstream porn. Cis people examining our bodies, theorizing about what kind of operations we’ve had or haven’t had yet, and possibly sexualizing or belittling/dehumanizing us for it, that will always be very thin ice, because it comes with a lot of emotional baggage for trans people individually and as a community.

What’s David’s backstory? We’re all wondering that, especially since Druck is mixing up the whole Skam setting so much and we really don’t know what they have in store for us. Obviously I’m just as thirsty for theories as the rest of the fandom, but I’ve also read a few things that kinda irked me. Here’s what to avoid: Referring to David as a girl or female in any way, speaking about him in the past with “she/her”-pronouns or coming up with a deadname for him. Oh lord please don’t. It’s nothing but misgendering and it’s so, so wrong. If you’re cis, also please reconsider posting headcanons for his backstory that contain heavy transphobia. Not only can that trigger trans people in the fandom (please use trigger warnings for that stuff, okay?), but there’s also a long history of cis people taking trans narratives away from us and making them only about suffering and pain. Sure, dysphoria sucks, the discrimination sucks, but me, a trans person, complaining about these things is WAY different from a cis person fantasizing about a really painful, possibly violent life for a trans character. Sure I want realism and I want a platform where we can discuss the truly awful experiences many of us have because we’re trans, but I wish that cis people would boost trans voices for that instead of coming up with their own fucked up fantasies about how badly a trans character might have been treated. If you’re writing fic or meta and you want to find an explanation why David changed schools so close to the end of the school year, you don’t have to dig deep into the trans pain to explain it. It’s not that uncommon for trans people to change schools, work places, etc. once they’ve transitioned far enough to feel comfortable - a new start makes the stuff like name changes, new gender presentation, etc. easier. And even if David’d move is related to transphobic experiences, I don’t really need to read detailed descriptions of it. You wouldn’t want to obsess over someone else’s trauma in vivid detail in front of them, so please be cautious when writing about something that’s seen as traumatic by many trans people.

Other useful pointers: There are trans people in this fandom who voice their opinions - seek them out, listen to them, boost their voices, don’t speak over them when they talk about trans experiences. Don’t focus too much on the fact that David is (or might be) trans. Like sure, include that in your writing, but make sure you know that it’s not the only and not the most interesting thing about him. In most regards, he’s just a boy, and he has a lot of character traits that tell us just as much about him, like the fact that he’s really closed-off, competitive af, artistic, a music lover and a complete emo dork, seems to have an active flight-or-fight response,... you see what i’m getting at. Let’s obsess about David on these terms, and I’m sure we’ll get a whole lot of new and interesting meta and fic about him that all of us can enjoy.

#druck #david schreibner #datteo #davenzi #mavid #my posts

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sparklyjojos · 4 years ago

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CARNIVAL recaps [7/13]

Today’s recap: JDC J-pop version, the S-detective of two genders, and Dokuson being Dokuson.

[PART 2 — CARNIVAL BOX]

FOURTEEN

07 Dec 1996 — 13 Dec 1996

OSAKA CASTLE

It’s funny how fast you can get used to something, BOKU thinks. He’s already got used to his D-name so much that he turns his head when people on the street say the pronoun “boku” in conversations.

Similarly, the world already got used to the Crime Olympics. Every day four million people die, and yet the world continues to turn. Maybe there’s no other way for humanity to continue than trying not to feel the despair, giving up in a way. Attempting to understand the fear and pain of a tragedy this big could drive anyone insane. Even detectives in books can’t help but get used to murders.

BOKU isn’t anything special. He’s had an average upbringing, worked some entry-level jobs, and even now his office work isn’t anything really outstanding. What is he doing in a place like JDC, anyway? As the representative’s assistant? Looking at his reflection in the window—at the scared young man with glasses hiding tired eyes—he wants to run away.

When he turns around to return to his desk, he finds his chair occupied by Yuiga Dokuson. BOKU could swear he didn’t hear him come in. As always, where is Dokuson, there he immediately brings this strange atmosphere as if everything in the world runs according to his will.

Dokuson states that BOKU’s been slacking off. BOKU answers that unlike Dokuson, he’s a regular human being that has to rest sometimes, and he doesn’t have nowhere near Dokuson’s talent either. Dokuson rebutts that talent is not everything, and those who seem to be superhuman geniuses have simply been working more than others (and that he, Dokuson, who of course has the greatest talent of all, is naturally the one working the hardest.) According to him all people are narcissists by virtue of being different from others, and the ones aware of it are the only ones who can really polish their talent (and since Dokuson is the most aware narcissist of all, then of course he is the greatest genius in the world.) Dokuson is sure that he could achieve anything another human can, like getting a gold medal in the Olympics, he just doesn’t care enough to do it.

(BOKU once more has to wonder what he’s even doing here and what on earth is this conversation he’s having.)

BOKU asks if Dokuson also thinks himself the most beautiful in the world—even more beautiful than Tsukumo Juku? Dokuson states that Juku’s beauty is “defective”; after all, what is the most beautiful should not cause harm to others, like making them faint. Besides that, what is considered beautiful changes with time and place, and besides that, right-minded people wouldn’t NOT consider the world’s greatest genius like Dokuson not to also be the most beautiful. And if BOKU doesn’t feel the same, then in Dokuson’s eyes he’s wrong-minded.

(...Well, certainly he is the world’s greatest narcissist, BOKU thinks.)

Dokuson is sure he would solve the Crime Olympics the fastest on earth. But he can’t do it right now, which must mean nobody else can do it, which must mean the case is unsolvable for now… for others than the members of the villainous group, at least.

Dokuson leaves the room, and BOKU wonders for the nth time why he’s still working for this man. He grumbles under his breath sometimes, but still doesn’t quit, and neither does everyone else working in new JDC. Must be Dokuson’s charisma. Whether for good or for bad, JDC has changed under his rule, just like the entire world has changed in the last few months.

[And now we enter our first narration change, this one in second person.]

Ever since JDC fell victim to the Billion Killer, the entire country sent them help and presents, touched by the tragedy. Mass media quickly threw together the “JDC Band”, with the artists’ share of money being donated to JDC (though not the recording industry’s share. That’s how the world works.) The band is entirely female, each member dressing up in the style of one of the JDC’s famous detectives:

Vocal — Dark (Ryuuguu Jounosuke)

Guitar — Eve (Christmas Mizuno)

Bass — Lead (Tsukumo Juku)

Drums — Cocktail (Amagi Hyouma)

Keyboard — Manya (Hikimiya Yuuya)

[...they just chose all the young bishonens, didn’t they.]

The band is doing quite well, their single Carnival Eve and first album Carnival climbing to the top of various charts with speed unusual even for the circumstances. All the tickets for their concert at the Osaka Castle Hall on December 7th sold out instantly, but they kept a few spares for VIPs like the members of DOLL.

Of course, you have been waiting for the opportunity to visit your beloved Japan again. You’re quite a fan of the country. And so, you and the girl you’ve met during a case in Italy, Somedaring Amagoi / Ittai-chan, came to Osaka together. Some people in the crowd recognize Amagoi and ask for her signature. You don’t think you’d be recognized anywhere in your own Italy… but then again, it’s not like you’d pull attention to yourself by randomly talking out loud on the street while being a detective. (Though you would do that as a woman.)

“It seems everyone is only paying attention to Ittai,” Amagoi says in her usual third person. “Nobody here really knows you, Meiru-shi, even if you’re one of the seven S-detectives in the world!”

Inspired by Ryuuguu Jounosuke, Amagoi also refers to men using the suffix “-shi” and to women using “-jou”. It’s a weird manner of speech—even weirder because she’s a returnee with a strange way of pronouncing things—but you do appreciate that she properly sees you as a man right now.

Well, she does think that the flowery Genoa folk dress you wore earlier was prettier, but you are in detective mode now, and your clothes have to match.

You and Amagoi take a stroll in the rain and talk. You mentioned earlier that the Osaka Castle Hall reminds you of a giant UFO, but Amagoi thinks that if anything looks like an alien spaceship, it’d be the city’s giant stadium, Osaka Dome.

Walking into the hall you stumble into JDC Band’s vocalist known by fans as “Dark Ryuuguu”, and then take a look at the rehearsal. It’s weird to see these imitators dressed as detectives on the scene, like in one big masquerade—or maybe it’d be better to say it’s a masked “Carnival”, like the name of their first album. It’s quite a strange feeling observing them, like stepping into a parallel world.

Amagoi doesn’t look anything but happy seeing “Dark Ryuuguu”.

“Somedaring,” you ask, “are you not sad about your mentor’s death?”

She is, but she doesn’t believe Jounosuke’s really dead. Nobody would be able to kill a guy that lucky if they tried, she says. Even if the accident definitely happened, Amagoi is sure Jounosuke will come back somehow, especially considering how much weirdness is going on in the Crime Olympics already. She’s more worried about the people that went missing, like Ajiro Souji and recently Jounosuke’s sister Otohime—it’s her disappearance that she asked you to investigate, seeing as you are the world’s best locked room specialist, known as the Locked Empress. (Empress, even though when you’re a detective, you are always a man.)

Some time after the concert, at exactly 1 PM, a series of thunderous roars comes from somewhere in the rain, and all of a sudden the Osaka Castle Keep vanishes into thin air. You both break into a dash to to the empty space. The Castle has simply disappeared without a trace, surrounded by crowds. Amagoi thinks this may be a supernatural phenomenon, and not a mystery that could ever be solved.

FIFTEEN

14 Dec 1996 — 20 Dec 1996

SKY BUILDING

So who the hell even are you, asshole?

—is what Yuiga Dokuson often asks himself.

Where are you going with your life?

And why are you even asking yourself those stupid questions? It could be because of that S-detective you’ve met recently—but no, someone like you surely wouldn’t be influenced by another person. And it’s not like you haven’t been analyzing yourself constantly anyway, scrutinizing yourself at all times, as if you’re stuck in a particularly rude second person narration.

As soon as you get the news about the Osaka Castle, you order sleep-deprived BOKU to check the crime scene. You can take over his work no problem, it will only take you fifteen minutes what he would need half a day for, obviously.

A few hours later BOKU returns along with Amagoi and the S-Detective Firannu Meiruneshia, who is wearing a flowery folk dress of Genoa. You welcome Amagoi, who as always refers to you as “Demon Lord” (must be the effect of all those fantasy RPGs she likes), and you observe the other closely.

The explanation you’re given is that Firannu, while a woman, takes on a boy persona during investigations. Not in an actual alternate personality way, but simply performing a fictional role, so that they can look at everything including themselves from a different standpoint—instead of an adult woman, a teenage boy. “Firannu Meiruneshia” is a D-name. They also use a nickname E-Mail, conveying a double meaning: one, they are as quick in reasoning as an e-mail in being sent, and two, it’s a pun on “E [Empty] Meiru”—as in, the detective personality of “Firannu Meiruneshia” is empty, fictional.

A fictional person with a fake name, speaking fake words… Certainly you already noticed something off about them before, their somewhat uneasy atmosphere. Then again, everyone’s personality is in a way “made up”, fluent, influenced by others. Everyone is subconsciously acting out a role of “themselves”.

You talk about the disappearance of the Osaka Castle. It had been closed for maintenance for a good while, and boy, did all that taxpayer money just vanish together with all eight stories of the building.

You and Meiru may not understand the solution yet—even the world’s greatest genius won’t solve anything without the necessary data—but you know vaguely what’s going on. (Oh, and even if you call everyone by their first name, you do call them Meiru instead of Firannu; it’s only fair when they call you just by “Dokuson” like you prefer.)

Amagoi notices that the highly suspicious timing of the Osaka Castle repairs could serve to hide the preparations for whatever trick was used, though she can’t explain what that trick was exactly.

[...and here would be first person narration from BOKU, but I’m lazy so have this in third person instead.]

BOKU has recently finished reading a crime novel that used the Hanging Gardens of Babylon as a theme, so inspired by this he reads up on the Seven Wonders (the ancient ones as well as several new lists). It is indeed wondrous how human hands could built something like the Wonders. Then again, the ancients were probably used to them the same way that BOKU is considering the English Channel and artificial satellites as a normal part of his world. Maybe the term “Wonders” would apply better to actually unexplained things like UFO or Yeti.

BOKU can’t help but notice that a lot of the entries on various lists of modern “Wonders” match the crime scenes chosen by the Billion Killer. Stonehenge, the Easter Island… perhaps they could predict the future targets by looking at those lists? Hanto Maimu has sadly lost her predictive ability ever since the birth of her daughter, so she can’t help them anymore.

On the next Saturday, while BOKU is busy in the office, Ushiwaka Gigolo [which the reader probably forgot existed] comes in and asks where on earth that bastard Dokuson went, because he had promised to meet with her today and yet the office is empty. BOKU has no idea where the guy is either, so they go to search for him together. [And the female employees eye BOKU enviously, because as it was said in Carnival Eve, Ushiwaka really does seem to be popular with the ladies. That’s what happens when you’re bi and your reasoning method relies on flirting and falling in love, I imagine?]

Unusually for her, Ushiwaka isn’t tagging along with Kakuusan Kanke today [bet you forgot about her too], since the latter is apparently in the US with Hyouma for certain reasons. BOKU wonders aloud how Kanke managed to get Hyouma to America despite his horrible sea-sickness and fear of flying, and Ushiwaka’s answer for now is “we have ways”.

Eventually, Dokuson calls BOKU on the phone and tries to get him to go somewhere, but before he can explain more, Ushiwaka snatches the phone and tells Dokuson exactly what she thinks about him breaking promises. BOKU has never heard anyone else be that straightforward with Dokuson. He gets the impression the two have known each other for a long time.

Finally Ushiwaka hangs up and announces cooly that they’re going to meet Dokuson in the Hanging Gardens. Not the Babylon ones, of course, but the Floating Garden Observatory at the rooftop of Umeda Sky Building, a famous landmark in Osaka.

On the way, BOKU thinks about how the world for something fictional, 架空, literally means something that’s “overhead”, “suspended in the air”, kinda like the Hanging Gardens seemed to be, well, hanging. The Umeda Sky Building reminds him both of the Gardens and of the alleged Tower of Babel. Come to think of it, the Billion Killer seems to like choosing places that are tall towers or give the visitors the illusion of walking in the air.

They find Dokuson at the rooftop, but just as he starts scolding them for being too late, Ushiwaka slaps him in the face, because he promised to meet her at JDC, dammit! Even someone as composed as Dokuson can’t help but look a little stunned, and in his cool explanations about being Very Busy With Work there’s a hint of deep emotions. (BOKU is now seriously wondering what kinda relation these two have.) Dokuson says that he’s not running away or anything, he’s only here because Amagoi and Meiru wanted to meet up to talk about a new clue. Ushiwaka replies that she’s not going to let this fly, as Dokuson had assured her that no matter what, he wouldn’t break his promise this time, and yet. Thankfully BOKU manages to change the topic to the case before they can really get at each other’s throats.

The three take a walk through the Floating Garden Observatory while Dokuson’s explaining what happened in the last few days. Amagoi and Meiru investigated Ryuuguujou trying to figure out how Otohime could have been kidnapped from a locked room situation. In a strange coincidence, one of Otohime’s bodyguards, Matsuo Meiten, provided them with information about another case. At the very moment the Osaka Castle Keep vanished, he was in the Umeda Sky Building with his family and so had a great view of the surroundings. Just before the inexplicable happened, he noticed something among the clouds above the Castle: a small black shadow… which, taking distance into account, must have been something even bigger than the Castle itself.

Ushiwaka scolds Dokuson for believing Meiru this easily without checking things himself, to which Dokuson answers that oh, he already did check them, who does she take him for, and then BOKU hurries with another question before the two can start arguing again.

Suddenly Dokuson’s phone rings. [His ringtone is the Devilman opening. Even the narration points out that since it’s 1996, Dokuson must have used the ringtone composer thing on his phone to painstakingly input all the notes himself. Amazing.] The ones calling are Meiru and Amagoi, who want them all to meet up in the restaurant on another floor, so the three move towards the rooftop’s exit.

Suddenly the world goes dark, as if something eclipsed the sun. Right above the Sky Building hovers a giant round object. For a moment it seems to get smaller (or ascending?), but then it gets bigger again. And bigger. And bigger...

Only when Dokuson kicks him and yells at him to run, does BOKU come out of shock and dashes after him towards the exit. As they’re running through the building chaos erupts around them, the impact sends debris flying and shakes the entire world. Dokuson is supporting Ushiwaka and screaming at BOKU to move faster, but he can’t possibly go any faster, Ushiwaka is yelling that she can run on her own, everything is chaos and panic. BOKU falls behind, can’t even see where he’s going through his broken glasses, the floor tilts under his feet until he can’t keep his balance and falls down. Something round that’s rolling around hits him in the face. The Billion Killer’s skull. BOKU gets through the tilted escalator tunnel down to the 35th floor, but then the collapsing world rotates again, the tunnel is now a completely vertical deadly fall, and BOKU doesn’t have any strength left to keep himself from sliding towards it—but just as he’s about to plummet to his death, somebody catches him in the last moment possible.

It’s Dokuson. He came back for him.

BOKU can only cry with relief before his body gives up and he loses consciousness.

Whatever the object that smashed into the Umeda Sky Building was, it vanished without a trace right afterwards. Witnesses claim it looked like a giant alien spaceship.

Two days later, when Amagoi and Meiru visit a restaurant at the famous Osaka Dome (which apparently has undergone some renovations lately), they learn about a curious thing that happened there on Saturday—a small, highly localized earthquake was registered with the epicenter at the Osaka Dome.

The Osaka Dome, which is distinctly giant and looks like an alien spaceship.

They might not know the exact trick to the Sky Building's destruction yet, but they know with what it was hit.

The case is partially solved, just like Meiru partially solved the mystery behind Otohime’s disappearance—they don’t know what happened, but think that Otohime is safe. Meiru seems to have figured out a lot more, but doesn’t want to share it, so Amagoi asks for at least some hint.

Meiru says that all murders happen in a locked room—the Earth itself, a locked room that nobody can really get out of. Maybe the thing they need is some truly cosmic reasoning.

[>>>NEXT PART>>>]

#sparkly reads carnival #maijo and jdc stuff #dokuson is a disaster and i love him #the devilman thing only got funnier in 2020 now that ARE WA DARE DA is a meme

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straightouttagershwin · 4 years ago

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Breaking Legs, Crushing Dreams

Witches, haunted opera houses, small-town diners, the founding fathers, and a magical Scottish town. These unusual topics are dazzling Broadway musicals loved by thousands. Musicals are a brilliant show of song, dance, and story that almost everyone can relate to. Every theatre kid has a role they would do anything to play. Unfortunately, casting bias based on race, gender, or sexuality, could make it difficult . In the past, most characters could be played by straight, white, cisgender actors. In today’s theatre world, that is being challenged. Why should there be a “basic” type of actor, and why should they get all of the parts? When people see themselves represented, it matters. It is especially important in youth development. Casting people of color, LGBTQ+ actors, and gender swapping, can change lives. A recent challenge to the status quo is the historical hip-hop musical, Hamilton. Casting a black man as George Washington, an Asian woman as Eliza Hamilton, and a Puerto Rican man as Alexander Hamilton himself, shocked audiences everywhere and opened up eyes to the possibilities of casting shows.

Ten years ago, a black man playing George Washington was unheard of. Why did modern day genius, Lin-Manuel Miranda, decide to challenge that? To tell “...the story of America then, told by America now.” What exactly does that mean though? Miranda wanted to tell the almost unbelievable story of America’s creation. But he wanted to tell it through the mouths of the immigrants the country was built on (Quiñónez). The founding fathers were young, rebellious, and brave. They went against their king to fight for freedom and justice for all, but to them, “all” was all white men. Through Hamilton, the people left out of “all men were created equal” get a chance to tell the story. The good, the bad, and everything inbewtween. Black men get to tell the story of soldiers fighting for the abolition of slavery, Latinx, Asian, and Black women have the opportunity to pay respects to some of the first feminists, and continue to spread the message of equality to the next generation.

The characters in Hamilton are all based on real people. Because of this, there is debate about whether there should be a line between fantasy and reality in casting. A popular example is Wicked. The story takes place before the events in The Wizard of Oz and includes many of the same characters. Wicked has been on Broadway for 16 years. This year, the first woman of color portrayed the deuteragonist, Glinda. Why did it take so long for this to happen? It’s unlikely that is was malicious. The casting directors did not sit in their offices and throw every woman of color’s headshot in the garbage. It is also quite unlikely that it was completely by chance. The reason was most likely somewhere in the middle. In 2003, Kristin Chenoweth originated the role of Glinda. Chenoweth is tiny, blonde, and white. This description was used in casting every Glinda after her, and very rarely changed. As stated in the Wicked Wiki page, there have been 32 Glindas on Broadway. 32, and only one was a woman of color. So when it did change, people noticed. Brittney Johnson made history in January 2019. She became the first woman of color to play Glinda on Broadway. She made headlines in the theatre community, and made hearts swell, as she gushed about how much it meant to be playing the character. In an Instagram post, the actress told about her excitement, “My hope and prayer is that people see my story and have faith that they can achieve their dreams too. Nothing is impossible! And no dream is too big.” The dream she speaks of, is crashing through the stigma of a white woman playing a beloved character. Through this, she shows kids, adults, and everyone in between, that they too can bring a character to life.

Aside from race, there are several other factors that could cause someone to not get a role in a show. Gender is a debated trait in modern theatre. Should characters be able to be gender swapped? Most argue that there are some roles that can be gender swapped, and some that cannot. And some believe that all characters should be cast as written. A recent example of gender swapping in a professional role is the character Old Joe in Waitress. Up until late 2018, the role was for a man, and played by one. In December 2018, the writers and directors decided to change that. When beloved actress June Squibb came to see the show, the creative team got an idea. They immediately decided to change the role to Old Josie, and cast Squibb in the part. “In this moment of time, it seems like a wonderful brush stroke to make the owner a woman-a strong, savvy business woman who is trying to help another woman find her footing.” says book writer, Jessie Nelson. Old Josie was loved by audiences and actors everywhere. But would the same love go to other characters?

In the recent past, I acted in a production of The Little Mermaid. A friend of mine tried out for Ursula, and had a shot at the role, except that this friend is a boy. He has the vocal range, the acting skills, and everything else necessary to play the character. But unfortunately, he wasn’t considered for the role. There are a lot of possible reasons for this. The conservative town, the young audience, or the views of the casting team, but it all comes down to the same reason. Our brains are trained to think that boys should play boys and girls should play girls. But is that even a factor here? The casting of mythical creatures has always been interesting to me. They’re fake, so there’s no reason for people to put any restrictions on who can play them.

Religion is another casting factor in theatre. Most of the characters in the famous show, The Fiddler on the Roof are Jewish. Does this mean they should only be played by those of Jewish faith? In most cases, religion isn’t an issue in casting. But when it comes to religions that have been discriminated against, there are arguments. Religions such as Islam, Judaism, and Hinduism are the most argued about. Because the people of these religions have been treated so poorly and given so little chance to be represented, when a character identifies as one of them, it’s important. Some argue that a person not of these religions should not play characters that are, because the young people of the religion deserve to see someone like them, playing someone like them. This is especially important for hijabi characters. Women who wear the traditional headdresses are tormented in public, have their hijabs ripped off, and are mocked and laughed at for their choice. So to put a random actress in a hijab for a show, seems wrong to those who undergo the discrimination every day.

Although America is supposed to be a haven for people of all backgrounds, racism is still a frequent issue. The iconic retelling of star crossed lovers, West Side Story, has been subject to a lot of whitewashing. To whitewash is to cast a white actor in a person of color’s role. In the 1961 film version of the show, the lead female character, Maria, a Puerto Rican girl, is played by Natalie Wood, a Russian woman. This casting, though common in it’s time, was offensive to the entire Latin community. Essentially telling them that their actresses were not good enough to play the character. However, the show is getting another chance. Set to be released in 2020, Steven Speilberg’s remake of West Side Story stars Rachel Zegler, a Colombian teenager, ready to take on the world as Maria. Zegler has spoken out several times about how important representation is. Millions of fans are awaiting seeing a true Latin Maria on the silver screen.

Sexuality is becoming a more and more important factor in casting every day. Recently, the Tony winning show, The Prom, has been in talks to become a movie. The show centers around two girls who want to go to prom together as a couple, but the school administration shuts down the prom in retaliation. Young queer kids everywhere were thrilled when the movie was announced. They were less thrilled when the casting possibilities were announced. When it was announced that Ariana Grande would be playing the main character, Alyssa Greene, fans were not happy. In the Broadway show, Alyssa was played by a queer woman of color, and as far as we know, Grande is neither. Casting LGBTQ+ actors as LGBTQ+ characters is extremely important to the audience. If a character is “straight-washed” it takes away part of the identity the original actor brought to the stage. It also takes a role from an actor that could play it with more honesty, emotion, and feeling, because they have shared experiences with the character.

Kelli Jolly has been involved in theatre for a long time. From growing up a dancer and actress, to choreographing shows, to becoming the president of a theatre organization, she pretty much lives and breathes it. When asked how casting has changed in her time in the theatre, Jolly said that it has changed a lot. “Directors are casting in creative ways to bring a story to life in a different way than the story has been portrayed in the past. It is exciting to watch different versions of the same play or musical with non-traditional casting.” Those like Jolly, who have theatre in every part of their lives, are excited to see change and creativity in shows. They are also excited to watch what the new generation of actors tell the same stories, in a whole new way. A group of 16 actors, directors, and stage managers were asked if (aside from characters that are written with a specific race, sexuality, or religious belief) casting should be blind, and 94% said yes. The world is changing, and theatre is changing with it.

Casting should be based on talent first. Casting an actor that does not deserve the role is wrong, no matter their race, gender, or religion. Characters can and should morph as the times change. Aiming to be more inclusive and to better represent the world around them. But if a character is a certain way for a reason, the actor should reflect that. Seeing yourself represented in media is important. Having diverse actors can help make that a reality for more people.

Works Cited

Fierberg, Ruthie. “Why Sara Bareilles, Diane Paulus, and Jessie Nelson Changed Waitress' Old Joe to Josie.” Playbill, PLAYBILL INC., 18 Nov. 2018, www.playbill.com/article/why-sara-bareilles-diane-paulus-and-jessie-nelson-changed-waitress-old-joe-to-josie.

Person, and ProfilePage. “Brittney Johnson on Instagram: ‘My Heart Is Bursting with Gratitude. Thank You, Thank You! God Is so Good! I Am so Humbled to Be the First Black Glinda and Honored to...".” Instagram, www.instagram.com/p/BsgWkRehCVo/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=dlfix.

Rogo, Paula. “This Actress Just Made History As First Black Woman To Play Glinda In Broadway's 'Wicked'.” Essence, Essence, 14 Jan. 2019, www.essence.com/entertainment/this-actress-just-made-history-as-first-black-woman-to-play-glinda-in-broadways-wicked/.

Samberg, Joel. “Fiddler on the Roof.” My Jewish Learning, My Jewish Learning, 6 Jan. 2004, www.myjewishlearning.com/article/fiddler-on-the-roof/.

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groggycascade · 6 years ago

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Josh’s Balls Incite Him to Foolishness - Pt. IV

I started this story almost exactly a year ago. Given that my first story, Strip Snap, took two years to finish, I’d say this represents an improved work ethic, though my fatality for over-elaboration remains unchanged. Just in case any of you haven’t read my Busterella series of stories, you should know that they crossover with this, the conclusion to Josh’s Balls. Given my time again, I’d think up a better title.

“It's good to see you again,” chirped Dr. Miller.

Josh started. He felt certain he would remember having seen Dr. Miller before. Even in her laboratory coat, buttoned to the clavicle, she was just breathtaking. It had been weeks since Josh had masturbated last: in that time, he'd found himself lusting after women far less attractive than this one. Now, alone in Dr. Miller's consultation room, he felt his mouth going dry with desire.

His cock, however, didn't so much as twitch.

“Uhm,” Josh said stupidly. Dr. Miller smiled.

“I examined you last week, after your unfortunate accident,” she told him. “I'm not surprised you don't remember. You were only semi-conscious.”

She inspected him across her desk, elbows propped in a triangle. Josh couldn't maintain her eye contact for more than a few seconds. This was going to be more difficult than he had realized.

“I can see you were referred back here by your local doctor,” Dr. Miller said, consulting some notes. “Why don't you tell me what the problem is.”

Josh swallowed.

“It's my...” he said, trailing off.

“I'm a medical professional,” Dr. Miller told him coaxingly. “There's nothing you can tell me I won't have heard before.”

Josh nodded.

“It's my penis,” he said. “I can't get it to... up,” he finished in a fluster.

Dr. Miller smiled sympathetically.

“That's obviously a big concern for a young man like yourself. Am I to understand that this difficulty post-dates your recent testicular injury?”

“That's right,” Josh lied. He saw no reason to tell her he hadn't been able to get his dick hard for weeks, thanks to his sister Hayley's repeated attacks on his balls. “I was wondering if you, maybe, might have, you know, missed something... last time I was here. My...” he gulped again. “My testicles are mostly fine now, but my penis just won't...”

He trailed away again.

“Specialists rarely come as young as me, Mr. James,” Dr. Miller said, standing up and walking round her desk. “This is because few in my profession are as capable as I am. If there were anything wrong with your testicles, other than a slight double-asymmetry, I would have noticed.”

“Double asymmetry?” Josh said. “How is that..?”

“It's quite possible. Each of your testicles is smaller than the other. Stand up,” Dr. Miller instructed.

Taken aback, Josh stood up. Dr. Miller looked at him for a few seconds. Josh smiled awkwardly.

“Trousers down?” she said, with a hint of impatience.

“Oh!”

While Dr. Miller prodded his testicles and penis (still utterly lifeless) Josh considered how little embarrassed he was at having his privates examined by a woman. After all, his sister, mother, and lifelong crush had all seen his junk over the past few weeks. And, he reassured himself, Dr. Miller was a professional. She had surely seen plenty of guys who were smaller than him.

At the end of the examination, Dr. Miller told him there was nothing physically the matter with his balls.

“We could repeat the sonograph,” she told him. “But for now I'd like to rule out the possibility of a proximate psychological cause.”

She explained that, after a severe injury to the testicles, many men found themselves incapable of maintaining an erection, even after recovery.

“Such injuries represent an often-traumatic blow to the victim's sense of manhood,” Dr. Miller said. “This can create a latent sense of inferiority, manifesting in an inability to 'perform,'” air quotes, “as a man.”

She wrote out a prescription for him.

“Get this filled downstairs,” she said.

“Thanks,” said Josh, stumbling to his feet. He was still enchanted by her beauty. “See you again.”

“For your sake I hope not, Mr. James,” replied Dr. Miller with a smile.

Josh had hoped to be able to keep his visit to the hospital a secret. Unfortunately, he had reckoned without Hayley's newfound disrespect for her older brother.

“It's just hard for me to take you seriously since I saw you get your underdeveloped dick and balls kicked in by the girl you're in love with,” she had told him a few days ago. Consequently, whereas only a few weeks before she had been his occasionally-annoying little sister, she now treated Josh with no consideration at all. She ignored her share of household chores, leaving them for Josh meekly to take care of. At any sign of protest from him, Hayley would jab her knee sharply in the direction of his groin. “Careful, Josh,” she'd warn him playfully. “If you keep busting my balls like this, I just might bust yours as well!”

Despite his sister's threats, Josh's balls had not suffered her powerful kicks and knees since Maya Gillespie put him in the hospital with near-ruptured testicles. Even Hayley seemed to realize how close Josh had been to losing his manhood permanently, and was prepared to recognize his reluctance to take part in any further ballbusting videos. Josh was under no illusions, though: he knew that as soon as Hayley thought he was recovered, she would insist on a return to their popular series of videos, and for that reason he had for some time been exaggerating the time his rehabilitation would take. There were still over two weeks left of summer: that, Josh knew, would feel like a long time if he had to spend it hoping he'd still be able to (finally) get laid this year.

Therefore, Josh allowed Hayley to think that her next kick to his balls might just crush them for good, while accepting that as long as Hayley believed this, she would continue to treat him like a pathetic excuse for a man.

This treatment only worsened when she discovered his prescription from Dr. Miller.

“Viagra?” she said, waving the box of pills tauntingly in front of his face. Josh's jaw dropped. “Oh my God, Joshy, can you not even get a hard on anymore?” She laughed at his expression.

“Those were in my sock drawer!” Josh raged at her. “Why were you rooting through my stuff?”

Hayley shrugged. “Bored,” she said, dismissively. Her face brightened. “Not anymore though!” With her hands cupped between her legs, she mocked him in a childish voice: “My little sister kicked me too hard in my little ballsies and now my little willy doesn't work.”

“Give me those pills!” said Josh, lunging for the box in Hayley's hand.

At that moment the door opened and their mother, Kelsey, walked into the lounge.

Ever since (Kelsey believed) Hayley had mistaken Josh for an intruder and punted him so hard in the balls he almost needed to have them removed, Kelsey had been spending much of her annual leave in and around the house. Josh suspected that his mother hadn't been convinced entirely by Hayley's explanation of his injury: her habit of appearing at the slightest hint of a fracas between her two children only strengthened this suspicion.

“Something going on?” Kelsey asked.

“Nothing,” Hayley said. Josh saw her slip his box of pills surreptitiously up her sleeve. “Just trying to persuade Josh to walk me to my friend Maya's house this evening.”

“Josh,” exclaimed their mother. “Of course you're not going to let your sister walk across town alone at night, are you?”

“No,” Josh said through gritted teeth. “Of course not.

We aren't really going to Maya's house, are we?” he asked his sister fearfully, once Kelsey had gone.

Hayley laughed. “I doubt your nuts would survive a second encounter,” she told him. “You can wait for me in the park. I just need to visit Maya to borrow some equipment off her.”

“Equipment?” Josh whispered, terrified.

“You'll see,” Hayley said with a smile.

Josh did see. Around ten o'clock that night, he waited alone in the park. Although it was a warm night, the whole area was deserted. Even so, Josh was scanning the layout nervously. It had been in this very park that the vigilante known as Busterella had inflicted massive trauma on the testicles of a teenage boy not two weeks ago.

He jumped at the sound of footsteps behind him, but it was only his sister, toting two medium-sized klieg lights. Immediately Josh saw what she had in mind.

“No,” he said. “Hayley, you've gone too far. We're not shooting a video out here.”

Hayley arranged the lights on either side of her camera tripod.

“We can't do it here,” Josh hissed at her. “Someone will see.”

“We can't do it at home either,” Hayley replied, still fiddling with the camera settings. “Not with mum always around, and we need to get back in the game. Do you realize how backed up with requests we are?”

“I'm not ready,” Josh said, trying not to whine.

“You'd better get ready in the next few minutes,” Hayley snapped. “Maya only lent me this stuff after I promised her a copy.”

Josh was sure his sister would see his face turn red in the dark. “You told Maya about... this?” he whispered harshly.

Hayley groaned. “Get over it, for God's sake,” she said. “She's already seen you naked and kicked your balls into orbit, I don't think you have to worry about her opinion of you getting any lower.”

The stage was finally set. The kliegs created a pool of light of about ten square metres. Hayley explained the plot of this latest video.

“Classic rape-reversal fantasy,” she said. “I'm walking home, all alone and vulnerable, when you jump out at me. Nude, obviously. You grab me, I crush your balls – one less rapist in the world. Nude, I said,” she snapped at him. Josh reluctantly began removing his shirt. When had it become so normal for his sister to order him around and humiliate him like this?

He stepped out of his boxers. Hayley cocked an eyebrow at her brother's exposed dick and balls.

“Either it's cold out here or you look even smaller with your balls all swollen,” she quipped.

“Can you please go easy on them?” Josh said feebly. “I'm really getting worried about the... consequences.”

“You mean like needing blue bombers just to jerk off?” Hayley cruelly replied. “If you were going to get castrated it would have happened already. Now come on, let's do this thing. And try to make it look realistic, I don't want you collapsing every time I tap your balls.”

Josh felt a prick of rage in his stomach. This was it. He finally had taken all he could take. His sister had injured him, degraded him, and ruined whatever chance he ever had with the girl of his dreams. All for some stupid moneyspinning videos. She didn't care whether or not his balls ever worked properly again, that had been made perfectly clear over the last few days and weeks. His teeth ground in his skull as he picked his clothes up off the ground. Hayley's back was to him as she made some last minute adjustments to the lighting. The beams illuminated her bare legs and shoulders. Josh realized she had dressed for the occasion, an innocent girl walking home after a party, valiantly overpowering and castrating a local creeper. Suddenly Josh had a better idea than walking off in a huff. He laid his clothes down on the ground again.

“Alright, let's go,” he said enthusiastically.

Hayley turned to look at him skeptically. “Who's got brass balls all of a sudden?” she said.

“I just want to give our fans what they want,” Josh replied.

Holly strolled through the park, enjoying the summer night air on her skin. She was dressed, and not for the first time this week, as Busterella. In fact, this was the third night running she had stalked the darkness in her vigilante get-up. She understood that only in comic books do superheroes loiter around in their spandex, waiting for purse snatchers and bank robbers. But she felt so powerful as her alter-ego. Maybe it was the number of men whose testicles had suffered torment and even annihilation at her hands, or perhaps it was the way the girls in her self-defense class continued to talk of Busterella as some kind of avenging guardian, but when she donned her cheap costume, Holly felt invincible.

Invincible and sexy. Again, it could have been the memory of so many balls squashing, crunching, bursting against her feet and her knees, but as Busterella Holly was turned-on pretty much constantly. As soon as she got home, in fact, she planned to mentally replay a few of her favourite castrations while her fingers did their stuff.

Home is where she was headed when she decided to take the scenic route through the park. She laughed softly to herself as she remembered her last visit here.

At that moment she heard a shout in the darkness. Rounding the end of a tree line, she saw two figures struggling about a hundred yards in the distance. Their forms were lit, for some reason, by a pair of stage lights. As Holly crept closer, she saw that they were a man and a woman, or a boy and a girl. She saw also that the boy was naked. Some bizarre university art film, maybe, Holly thought.

But no. Something about the way the protagonists were grappling made Holly think the girl wasn't participating voluntarily. She crept closer still.

The story had called for Josh to run up behind Hayley and grab her by the waist, with one hand covering her mouth. She would reach behind and squeeze his balls until he released her, at which point she would turn around, put her hands on his shoulders, and drop him with a ruinous knee to the testicles. After that they would improvise for a few minutes, before the denouement: a vicious stomp to the groin, with squelching sound effects to be edited in later.

Josh had decided to make a few revisions. As Hayley aimed her knee towards his groin, he skipped backwards, evading the strike. Taking advantage of her confusion, he rushed forwards, crouching low to screen his balls, and tackled his sister at the waist. Hayley may have figuratively emasculated him over the last few weeks, but he was still taller and stronger than she was. Lifting her in a bear hug, he threw her to the ground where she landed in an awkward semi-crouch. Before she could get up, Josh grabbed the hem of her tank top and yanked it over her head.

“What are you doing, you creep?” Hayley screamed. Josh couldn't tell if she was still playing for the camera or not. Locking his arms around her shoulders, he hauled his sister up in a half-nelson.

“Just giving our fans what they want,” he said in her ear. Ensuring they were facing the camera, he freed one of her arms. Reaching over Hayley's shoulder, he took hold of the front of her bra and wrenched over her head, exposing her enviable breasts to the night air.

“That's enough, Josh,” Hayley hissed through her teeth. “Fucking let go of me.” Josh was gratified to hear the mortification in her voice.

“Maybe now you know how it feels,” he answered in an equal whisper. He released his grip on his sister and pushed her away. Hayley turned to face him. Immediately she had one arm around her chest, covering herself up. Josh was surprised to see absolute hatred in his sister's eyes. He made himself regain composure. This was nothing compared to what she had done to him. Finally he had Hayley at a disadvantage – he had no dignity left to lose. His cock and balls were on the internet for all to see. To really teach Hayley a lesson, Josh had decided to show her how that felt.

He charged at his sister again. She directed a snap kick between his legs, but Josh was ready. He grabbed her foot out of the air and shoved forwards. Caught off balance, Hayley fell to the ground. With one arm still covering her modesty, there was nothing she could do to stop Josh from pulling her skirt down around her thighs. To his delight, Josh saw his sister wasn't wearing underwear. Despite her flailing legs, he finally succeeded in pulling her skirt off entirely. Hayley was now naked except for the thick boots she had bought with the revenue from their videos.

Holly decided she had seen enough. Slowly, she moved towards the pool of light, before accelerating into a jog.

Josh held his sister's skirt above her head tauntingly. “Think how much money we'll make off of this one, sis,” he said, repeating back to her the words she had used so often. “Your tits and cunt for the whole world to see! Not so much fun, is it?” Actually, Hayley was using her hands to cover the aforementioned parts of her anatomy. But Josh was intoxicated with his humiliation of his sister. Revenge, finally, was his! Evading her kicks at his groin, he skipped around his sister's prostrate body and began to pick her up from the ground.

For a fraction of a second, Josh didn't know what had happened. He was holding Hayley at the shoulders, but she seemed, somehow, to have... kicked him in the balls? Something was very wrong here.

That was when the pain hit him. Hit him like a speeding train. He looked down and saw a disembodied foot buried between his legs. He also saw that his own feet were about two inches off the ground. The world seemed to have frozen – there was nothing except the all-consuming pain radiating from his testicles.

Wow, thought Holly. She had never kicked a boy so hard in his balls before that he was lifted off the ground. Rather than admire her good work, she withdrew her leg and kicked Josh in the testicles again.

If her first kick had been devastating, her second was lethal. Josh's balls stood no chance. He felt his right ball turn to pulp under the force of the kick. The pain he had been feeling was ten times multiplied. He opened his mouth to scream, and no sound emerged. He was on the ground, his hands buried between his legs. He didn't even remember falling. His fingers frantically sought out his testicles. Even through the unremitting, incomprehensible pain, he hoped against hope that he was still somehow a full man.

His left hand closed around a complete testicle. His right found nothing, just a clumpy mush which sent white shards of pain into his abdomen the moment he touched it. Overcome with pain and horror, Josh slipped into unconsciousness.

He came awake into blinding light. He blinked a few times, and the light resolved into beams from the klieg lights. They had been repositioned around him. The pain emanating from what used to be his right ball was indescribable. His mouth tasted like he might have thrown up. His legs felt too heavy to move. Lifting his head, he saw the reason for this: Holly was perched on his shins, pointing her phone directly at his misshapen ballsack, providing a kind of running commentary.

“... obviously I always wondered what a crushed ball would look like,” she was saying. “Pretty funny, it turns out is the answer. As you can see, my brother's right testicle is totally pulped. There's just... nothing left, like, at all.” She prodded at his ruined ball with one finger, causing Josh to shriek with pain.

“You're awake!” said Hayley eagerly, training the camera on her brother's face. “Oh, but bad news,” she continued in a mock-sympathetic voice.

“For God's sake,” Josh said weakly. “I need to go to hospital, Hayley.”

“Don't worry, Joshy,” said Hayley. She wasn't lowering the camera. “We'll get you to hospital. There's just one thing left to... take care of,” she finished, with a mischievous smirk.

That was when Josh realized his hands were tied behind his back. Out of the corner of his eye he detected someone else just inside the light's expanse.

“Who's that?”

A second face loomed into view.

“The name's Busterella,” said Holly. Josh whimpered.

“I don’t usually apologize for things like this, but, well… I’m sorry I crushed one of your balls,” Holly was saying.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody,” Josh started jabbering. “Just, please, call me an ambulance, maybe the doctors can still save…”

A slow smirk spread across Holly’s face.

“Aw,” she said. “Honey. There’s nothing there to save. Your sister and I both agree that calling an ambulance at this stage would be pointless. And by the way,” she went on. “I wasn’t apologizing to you. I was apologizing to Hayley. If I’d have known what I was interrupting, I’d have let her turn both your little balls to mush herself.”

Hayley giggled and stood off Josh’s legs. It was only at this point that he noticed his sister hadn’t put her clothes back on. Hayley handed her phone to Holly, who repositioned herself on her knees behind Josh, and propped his head up against her breasts.

“Fortunately,” said Holly, “you still have the one.” Josh’s eyes went wide with horror. Hayley burst into laughter.

“That’s right, Josh! Obviously our arrangement doesn’t suit you anymore, so I’m going to take your last ball! I just want you to know that if it weren’t for that little stunt you tried to pull, I wouldn’t be doing this. So in a way, it’s your fault you’re about to have no more testicles. Just something to think about.” Hayley blew her brother a kiss and started walking away from him.

In a panic Josh tried to free himself, but his legs were still numb, and with his arms tied he was totally at the mercy of the two women. Hayley turned around. Over Josh’s shoulder, Holly was training the camera on his sister. Josh started to plead, but Holly clamped her free hand over his mouth.

“Remember how I was our team’s penalty-taker in school, Josh?” Hayley called. Josh mumbled desperately into Holly’s palm.

Hayley set herself for her run-up, then sprinted forward. Her breasts bounced up and down as she began to draw her right leg back. Her leg seemed to rise and rise up behind her: Josh could see every muscle flex in his sister’s powerful thighs.

With all the strength in her body Hayley kicked forward. The toe of her boot connected directly with Josh’s one intact testicle.

There was a muffled popping sound, and both siblings realized what had happened.

Josh’s eyes rolled back in his head as Hayley started pointing and laughing at him.

“I felt it go pop!” she said. “Wow! Your little sister just castrated you, Joshy! No more fun between the legs for you!”

“Way to go!” Holly said. The two women high-fived. Hayley bent down and prodded her brother’s pulpy ballsack. She couldn’t repress her giggles.

As for Josh, he was slowly losing consciousness. The pain when his last testicle exploded had been too great for him to even scream. The fact that he was a eunuch now couldn’t even begin to penetrate the storm of pain. As blackness started to squeeze out his field of vision, he heard Holly say, “Now we’ll get you an ambulance.”

“It’s good to see you again,” chirped Dr. Miller.

Josh took his seat with a wince. Although there was a faint residual pain between his legs, the reason for his reaction was Dr. Miller’s infuriatingly upbeat demeanour. This was his fifth meeting with her, the second since he woke up in hospital to receive the news from her that both of his testicles had been surgically removed.

He did his best to banish the memory of that particular day. Although his memory was hazy from the anaesthesia, he had the strong feeling he hadn’t acquitted himself well. There had been tears, he was sure about that. What made it worse was that his mother and sister had both been in the room. While Kelsey had of course been distraught, there was one memory that was as clear as anything: his sister Hayley winking at him while Dr. Miller consoled their mother.

Since then, Dr. Miller had commenced all their meetings with the same thoughtlessly breezy greeting, as though discussing the loss of his testicles with a beautiful woman were something Josh should have been looking forward to.

“And how are we feeling?” she now asked him.

“There’s not much pain…” Josh said. Dr. Miller waited for him to go on, an encouraging expression on her face. Josh swallowed. “It’s just that,” he said, “the hormone replacement pills you’ve prescribed me, they… don’t seem to be doing anything.”

Dr. Miller frowned. “Well, it’s been four weeks since you began the therapy. We should certainly be seeing some improvement by now.”

Josh shook his head silently. It was true – since the removal of his balls, he hadn’t been able to get a single erection. The drugs did nothing. At first he had assumed he was simply suffering from the aftereffects of his surgery, but when after three weeks he was still incapable of getting it up he had arranged an appointment with Dr. Miller.

“You know,” she said, consulting her notes, “I do recall suggesting a psychological issue, the last time we had, uhm, this conversation. Things were a little different then, of course…”

Josh blushed and looked at his feet. This was even more humiliating than he had feared.

“In that you still had your testicles,” Dr. Miller clarified. “But, given the ongoing erectile problems even with replacement therapy, it is my professional recommendation that you see a psychiatrist. I have a list of names I can refer you to…”

“How could I possibly be thinking myself out of getting an erection?” Josh asked through gritted teeth. This couldn’t possibly be Dr. Miller’s solution. “I never had to think about it back when I still had…” He trailed off.

Dr. Miller looked at him sympathetically.

“Many men struggle with feelings of worthlessness after an injury of the kind you sustained,” she said. Seeing the look on his face, she flushed slightly. “Sexual worthlessness, I mean, I’m sure you have a great many qualities, Mr. James… but, without your testicles you can no longer pleasure a woman or enjoy any sexual gratification of your own. Not to mention the… circumstances in which you were brought to us.”

Hayley had told the doctors that she and Josh had had an argument while walking to Maya’s house, in the course of which Josh had turned around and walked off. Making her own way home later that night, she had come across her brother unconscious in the park, stripped naked and “with his, erm, ‘boy parts’ all crushed and pulpy,” she had told them. A victim, no doubt, of the criminal Busterella, who remained at large.

Josh had told nobody the truth. Hayley had never uploaded their final ballbusting video – she had given him to understand, in so many words, that so long as he kept his mouth shut, the only people who need know about his castration were herself, their mother, and Dr. Miller.

Who was still talking.

“For your sister to find you like that must have been extremely traumatic for her, and perhaps you even feel, on some level, that this is what you deserve for leaving her to walk home alone through the dark.”

“What?” Josh exploded.

“Just consider it,” said Dr. Miller, passing a list of names across her desk. Josh saw angrily that they all seemed to be female. “I recommend a lot of impotent men to psychiatric therapy,” she said. “With counselling, some do regain the full enjoyment of their manhood. Not all, but… some,” she concluded, looking slightly sheepish. “Anyway, worst case scenario, it will help you adjust to life without your testicles. Please do let me know how it goes, Mr. James. It’s been good to see you again.”

That evening, Josh tried, as he had tried every night for the past month, to get his dick hard. His mother and sister were both out – he could take as much time as he needed. He lay naked on his bed and tried to coax some life into his limp penis, carefully avoiding touching the flap of skin which used to be his ballsack. With his eyes closed, he revisited all his old fantasies – none of his ballbusting ones, he had been well and truly cured of that fetish – but the classical sexual scenarios he had once dreamed of fulfilling with Maya Gillespie. He pictured the sumptuous curve of her breasts, imagined the warmth of her cunt and he slowly slid his fantastically engorged cock into her…

Screams of female laughter exploded his reverie. His eyes shot open. Hayley and Maya were standing in the doorway, doubled over with hilarity.

“No!” Josh cried, covering up what was left of his manhood.

“Oh my God, it’s actually true,” Maya was saying through tears of laughter. “He has no more balls!”

Hayley leapt across the room and pulled Josh’s hands away from his crotch. After a brief struggle, he stopped resisting. Maya had already seen everything – it wasn’t like he could get any more humiliated.

Or so he thought.

“I can’t believe you told her,” he said pathetically to Hayley. His sister released his arms and faked a kick at his crotch. Instinctively he flinched, drawing more laughter from the girls.

“She didn’t tell me, Joshy,” Maya said. “She showed me!” Producing her phone she turned the screen towards Josh. To his horror, he saw a familiar sight – his sister, drawing her leg back, and back, before finally - .

He looked at Hayley speechlessly. His sister shrugged.

“I did promise her a copy,” she said, fake-guiltily.

“And you have no idea how many times I’ve watched it, Joshy,” Maya said mockingly. “Your sister turning your balls into jelly is the best thing I’ve ever seen. So does your little thingy not work anymore?” she asked in a sweet voice. Hayley giggled.

“I… have pills,” Josh said in a fluster. “I can still… still…”

“You mean those sugar pills my cousin gave you?” Maya asked. Josh felt his insides go cold. The girls were laughing again. “Didn’t you know Jodie Miller and I are related? As soon as Hayley told me what she’d done to you, I called her up and told her about how you like to peep through girls’ keyholes. She agreed with me that it’s just better for females everywhere that you don’t get to have a functioning dick.”

Josh’s mouth moved soundlessly. He looked at his sister, who only burst into further laughter at the expression on his face.

“Now, as long as you play nice, Josh, all of this will remain a secret between you, me, and your sister. But, if I get even the slightest hint from my cousin that you’ve gone elsewhere for some drugs so you can pretend to still be a man, then this,” waving her phone, “is going straight online. I reckon it won’t be more than a week before the whole town knows how you lost your little balls.”

Josh looked pleadingly at his sister one last time. “Why?” he said, chokingly. It was all he could think to say.

Hayley pretended to think. “Because it’s hilarious?” she said eventually. “You’re going back to university as a balless freak! While all your friends are out getting laid, you’ll be stroking that worthless little thing between your legs and wishing you hadn’t messed with your sister!”

Josh jumped up. “You fucking bitches!” he shouted. He advanced towards Maya and his sister, not knowing exactly what he intended to do – he only knew that they had taken away his sex life before it even started, and now they were mocking him about it. He could have done anything.

Before he could get close, Maya’s leg shot out and thudded into his groin. Instinctively Josh doubled over, clutching himself. But of course, there was nothing left there to clutch at.

Hayley and Maya burst into new fits of laughter.

“Hope you enjoyed that, because it was the last time a girl ever touches you down there, Josh,” Maya said breathlessly.

Josh looked at them both with hatred burning in his stomach. The worst part was that he was completely powerless – even if he attacked both girls, even if he somehow overpowered them and paid back even half the pain they had caused him, he would still be a eunuch. There was nothing he could do to them.

As Hayley and Maya tumbled out through his door, they each turned and gave him the finger. The sound of their laughter rang in Josh’s ears long after they had left the house.

#ballbusting story #castration story

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aimmyarrowshigh · 5 years ago

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aheavenlyrush replied to your post “I’ve been on tumblr since 2012 and I was even a John Green fan for a...”

i checked and it happened in 2015

aheavenlyrush replied to your post “I’ve been on tumblr since 2012 and I was even a John Green fan for a...”

i saw that jg post on my feed and i had no energy to comment on it but truly when i saw that you had i felt such relief!! i remember making that one post about stiefvater defending him and telling teenage girls to be quiet and the response to it still fucking haunts me i swear

Oy, was it really that recently? The last three years have taken 900 years. And yeah... Maggie Stiefvater’s post about it was a Really Bad Look, and iirc that was the environment that spawned the beginning of the batshit “Keep YA Kind”* concern-trolling thing (yep, also 2015) that was mainly used to silence girls and women and people of color whenever the four white cishet men in YA fucked up between 2015 and 2018, when it finally publicly came out that most of them were, yk, fucking up because they’re legitimately horrible people and maybe the people calling them out should have been taken seriously.

* The other notable “why the fuck is this happening???? why is HE the one getting the sympathy here?????” events from “Keep YA Kind,” which, listen, I would bet you anything that it was very very nearly called “Keep Kidlit Kind” until the only person involved with 1/4 of a braincell managed to realize the acronym on their Twitter handle looked REALL BAD:

Andrew Smith, a straight white adult man, says out loud with his human adult man mouth, that he knows he can’t write female characters well and relies on fetishization and stereotypes because he never really met a girl until his daughter (??? SO WHAT IS YOUR WIFE, ANDREW? CHOPPED LIVER?) and, being as that is Bullshit and also his books were also being lauded as though they were Infinite fucking Jest Jr. even though the interview in question was for a book in which mutant grasshoppers take over the earth and a teenage boy gets trapped in a bunker with a teenage girl who eventually has to git to birthin’ babies she doesn’t want and isn’t medically prepared to have safely For The Good Of Humanity, he’s called out.

He’s called out mostly on a technical, writing level at first, even! Like, “Here’s how to write a female character: you write a fully considered, well-rounded character. They’re a girl.” And Andrew Smith FLIPS HIS SHIT, does some op-ed about how his mother used to beat him so he can’t see girls as people, and makes his twitter private. The “Keep YA Kind” sycophants support him HARD.

And then this happens to pop up on a mysterious Twitter that just HAPPENS to start while HIS twitter’s offline...

NOTE: Jay Asher, author of 13 Reasons Why, was literally dropped from his publisher and SCWBI for being a sexual predator. So like, I don’t think he was bullied, I think his predation was being remarked upon. Like, idk, maybe that he was being called creepy or sth idk idk idk

And then when A.S. decided to unsockpuppet to promote his next book, The Alex Crow, which is about mutant crows and a bunker or whatever:

The “asshole” in specific that Andrew Smith was calling an asshole was delightful human being and fellow author Kate Messner, who, coincidentally, was one of the victims to come out against Lemony Snicket’s sexual harrassment, so she’s had a BULLSHIT time just trying to do her JOB of being an author while female.

Which leads to Tommy Wallach! All-around fucknut! Whose major interest seems to be being That Guy In Philosophy 101 Who Always Has To Be Devil’s Advocate, Even Though No One Asked, and has a deeply vested interest in making sure that teenage girl readers -- who are his target audience, because he chose to write YA, as an adult man who made a choice in what he wrote and chose to make it YA, and not, like, any of the hundreds of genres that AREN’T largely written about and for teenage girls, yk -- know that teenage girls are Dumb. Victoria Schwab actually wrote an essay for YA Books Central about the incessant problem that IS/WAS Tommy Wallach called “We Need To Talk About Tommy” back in -- you guessed it! -- 2016, but it’s offline now and I’m not going to go Wayback it rn.

I’m just going to copypasta YAinterrobang’s Wallach timeline because he’s exhausting, he reminds me of undergrad.

Wallach’s continual pattern of behavior is worth discussing, especially in the context of sexism in YA and the continual marginalization of “diverse” voices in the community despite the efforts of the We Need Diverse Books movement.

Wallach’s problematic behavior runs back over a year, starting with a defense of Andrew Smith where he ignores the opinions of author and advocate Tessa Gratton in favor of a dictionary definition of sexism. (Andrew Smith’s behavior and the fallout around his statements have, of course, already been documented on YA Interrobang in “The Curious Case of Andrew Smith, Twitter & sexism.”) Wallach postures that women are inherently “other” from men, accuses Gratton of “gin[ning]up the controversy” and explains that he is a feminist because he was “raised by a single working mother and she’s still my best friend in the world.”

[View Wallach’s defense of Smith and attack on Gratton as a .pdf.]

Fast forward to later that year. Author Justina Ireland takes to Twitter to discuss a book where she feels the black character is self-hating. Ireland, being black herself, is asked about the book in question; she says that it’s Wallach’s debut novel We All Looked Up. Though Wallach is not tagged, he swoops into the conversation and demands Ireland provide proof that his character Anita is self-hating before claiming that author Dhonielle Clayton, who is also black, is friends with him and “engaged” with him on the issues in the book.

Clayton later stated publicly that she had not done any sensitivity reading on We All Looked Up.

What brought Wallach’s behavior to the attention of the YA world as a whole came this past November in the wake of the horrifying terrorist attacks in Paris. When the hashtag #prayforparis went viral, Wallach responded with multiple social media posts and a blog post about how atheism was the only belief that could make the world a better place. (Though Wallach argues that it is not, in fact, a belief: “The fact that we have a word for it makes it seem like it’s equivalent to other belief systems, but it’s not. The absence of something is not equivalent to the thing itself.”)

[View Wallach’s comments on atheism as a .pdf.]

After Wallach Tweeted that he was a “a rabid atheist, and the world would be a better place if more folk were” – a Tweet he subsequently deleted before deleting his account in its entirety – he doubled down in a block post that outlined all the way religions failed and all the reasons atheism was awesome.

Those who tried to explain to him why this behavior was – to say the least – problematic found themselves quickly blocked or shut down; at once point, Wallach tried to explain anti-Semitism to Jewish author Hannah Moskowitz before claiming that “if [her]parents are atheists and [his]dad is Jewish, [he’s] as much Jewish as [her].”

(For those wondering, Wallach blocked me during this incident despite being friendly with me and having taken my advice previously; while he did believe me in regards to his behavior towards Justina Ireland, which you can see in Tweets above, my snarky comment to him about “the only good people are the people who are exactly like me” was, apparently, too much for him to take. As Wallach’s account has since been deleted and I purged my social media account in January, that interaction is no longer publicly available.)

Take this behavior in comparison to author LJ Silverman, who recently received a sea of anti-Semitic hate mail – including crude manipulated images of her in an oven – for Tweeting that she was worried about the upcoming election in the context of history. Wallach painted himself to be the victim, somebody “attacked” for insulting all of the religious folks in the YA community, while Silverman, who simply shared a worry plaguing her, became a victim of virulent trolls.

While Wallach deleted his social media accounts after this, there were no public consequences to his actions despite ill-will from the YA community at large. If another member of the YA community had spoken out – one of our Catholic or Islamic or Jewish or Mormon authors, for instance – the backlash would have been substantially worse, possibly career-ruining.

Wallach’s career, however, was not ruined; he recently landed a six-figure deal for a book trilogy centered around a “holy war.”

And thus, we return to Wallach’s dismissive comments on suicide – which, it turned out, were neither new or original. In a blog post deleted after it came to light during this discussion, Wallach rated “the top ten literary suicides (organized by emo-ness)” which included all of the characters of HBO’s Girls – “It’s really just a fantasy of mine.” – and, ranking at number one, Sylvia Plath – who is not a character but a real person who suffered from depression before taking her own life at a young age.

[View Wallach’s post on suicide as a .pdf.]

“I’m only going to talk about the fact that a successful YA author found it appropriate to glorify, romanticize, and mock what for many of his readers is among the highest causes of death,” wrote Schwab in her “We Need To Talk About Tommy” post. “That this author could be so very careless and flippant and insensitive about such a very serious issue is abhorrent. That two years after penning this post he still sees suicide as something to be made light of, to be used as a marketing tool.”

Simon & Schuster made no public comment about any of Wallach’s comments. His career, save for making enemies of some fellow authors, seems relatively unscathed by his callous actions.

Anyway, the moral of the story is, like, if you wanna read books by straight white dudes, go for it, but check them out from the library. Spend your book-buying money on books by women, nonbinary/other folks, and dudes who aren’t straight and/or white. Straight white men, PARTICULARLY in categories of literature that are largely targeted towards girls and women, and largely written by girls and women -- but published, edited, and marketed by other straight white men -- are lauded FAR above what they’re actually worth, as like, storytellers or human people go.

The Glass Escalator is a one-way trip to wonderland, but YA is a skyscraper that was built by women and I PROMISE you, whatever book by one of these dudes you’re considering reading, there’s a better version by a woman and/or person of color on the shelves nearby that just didn’t get 1/10th of the marketing money.

And of course there should be an effort to be kind on social media, but “keep YA kind”... to whom? To the people who were being silenced when they were pointing out legitimate problems with the behaviors of men in social power? (And one of whom, in the case of Jay Asher, was LITERALLY DANGEROUS BC HE IS A SEXUAL PREDATOR.) Like, really? There had to be a hashtag campaign to silence dozens of people with legitimate, not-bullying-just-pointing-out-problems-that-are-problems-with-stuff-you-did-dude problems, to make social media feel more comfortable for four middle-aged straight white men?

As though the outside world isn’t comfortable enough for middle-aged straight white men????

#asks #aheavenlyrush

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lukes-writing · 5 years ago

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Chapter 13: Man Without Imagination

Project introduction | Previous chapter

Word count: 3200 Warnings: Profanity

September 29th, 10:22 AM, The Society headquarters, Trinity Gate

“Who… who could have done something like this?” Whisper’s voice rises to falsetto again. Her whole body is trembling, and it’s not only out of disgust since it’s already some time after the autopsy she witnessed. Her empathy allows her to feel what the murdered man felt seconds before his demise.

She can’t stop imagining how horrible it must have been. The paper flowing into his head through his mouth, nose, ears, eyes… Did it hurt, or was it finished quickly?

All the necessary business with the dead man has been done and Team Dreamcatcher can once again gather in the conference room to discuss the matter. However, instead of discussing, everyone is recovering from what they just witnessed. For all of them, it’s the closest encounter with death so far.

There’s no need to blame them for that, Wiccan thinks. They are yet to build resistance towards such sights. But I hope they’re gonna build it quickly. They will need it.

“What now?” Parker brings up a question. “Should we, like, find out who did this? I don’t particularly feel like a detective. I’m used to being on the opposite side of the law.”

“That’s pretty much our task,” Kirlian replies, vesseled into the Obi-Wan action figure once again. “Find the culprit and prevent them from doing this again.”

“I don’t know who did it, but I’m not sure if I want to encounter them,” Gary says.

Parker sneers. “But that’s a part of the job, man. If ya scared, you can get the fuck outta here.”

For this once, Wiccan has to agree with Parker. Whisper and Gary certainly need to harden. But not too much - Whisper’s sensitivity and empathy can be actually beneficial.

“No way, I’m staying,” Gary says. He finished moving into his new house sponsored by The Society just a few days ago and he can finally live like he always wanted. He has more than enough space both for himself and his little friends. If keeping such a house means meeting some deranged being which kills using paper, Gary is ready to take the risk.

Wiccan looks at Sienna. “I have a small test for you. Try to figure out what should we do next.”

The young woman thinks about it for a while, sipping from a cup of coffee. Everyone has already come to the conclusion her caffeine income would probably kill any other person. Then, she finally speaks: “Well, since we know close to nothing about the attacker, all we can do is to find out more about the victim. I would go and talk to his family to possibly find out something about the attacker’s motives.”

“I knew I made a good decision by appointing you as a leader,” Wiccan smiles at her. Sienna blushes, flattered by the compliment.

“Should I go with you again?” she offers. “I doubt it would be a good idea to come there all at once.”

Wiccan nods. “Sure, only two people will go. However. First, we will do it tomorrow, so his family can have some time to reconcile with their loss. Second, it will be Ophelia, not me. And third, I want Whisper to go with her. Sorry, Sienna.”

Whisper opens her eyes wide. “Me…?”

“Yes, you. Sienna is good at analytical thinking, but you are better with people and their emotions. You can read between the lines. Maybe you will be able to find out something the others can’t see.”

“I… I won’t disappoint! I think,” the girl squeals.

September 30th, 1:30 PM, Northeast District, Trinity Gate

Whisper had met Ophelia Salisbury a few times before, after she married her uncle. Whisper immediately decided she likes her, even if just for the fact Wiccan would not marry anyone who doesn’t meet his strict standards.

The woman’s upright stance radiates strength and experience, but her dark eyes are nothing but kindness. Whisper only hates the fact she has to tilt her neck back to look Ophelia in the face since their height difference is significant. Whisper is the only one in her family who measures less than 170 centimeters.

“Remember, be courteous and tactful, but keep in mind you came for the information,” Ophelia lectures her. Whisper came to a conclusion both her skin color and her voice can be compared to a delicious hot chocolate. She’s dressed in a long black dress and a short jacket of the same color. Her hair has been tied into an elegant top knot which exposes the woman’s swan neck.

Even Whisper chose a more conservative attire consisting of a black-and-white blouse and long, pleated skirt. She’s also wearing a pair of white moccasin shoes, which definitely isn’t common for her, and she also left a big part of her excessive jewelry at home.

They finally arrive at the neat family house standing on a wide boulevard close to the Trinity Gate’s university. The rays of sunshine glow through the tops of several trees which grow in its garden. An old fox terrier sleeps in front of a dog house.

Ophelia rings on the doorbell inserted in the gate which leads to the garden surrounded by a short hedge. A buzzing sound that soon follows tells them someone opened the gate. The two women enter and before they reach the end of the gravel walkway, the main door opens.

As they expected, they see an older, slightly chubby woman dressed in all black standing in the doorway. Her eyes are swollen, giving away all the tears the woman cried in the past hours.

“Are you Arthur’s students?” she asks. She’s probably already used to the man’s students coming over to offer their condolences. “Thank you for…”

Ophelia interrupts her. “Actually, we do want to express our condolences, but in the first place, we want to find out what exactly caused your husband’s death.”

“They didn't even let me know what happened to him!” the woman wails. “Can you…?”

The woman shakes her head. “Not until we close the case.”

“So he was… someone did it to him?”

“Yes, I’m afraid it was a murder,” Ophelia confirms and the woman bursts into tears. She gestures them to come in and both Ophelia and Whisper take a seat in a spacey living room. Its modern furniture heavily contrasts with a wooden bookshelf which takes up a whole wall.

Whisper takes a look at the books displayed. The murder victim’s collection mostly consists of essays by famous philosophers and heavy encyclopedias. Not a single piece of fiction. Definitely not Whisper’s style.

Then, Whisper notices another person in the room. He had just descended from the stairs leading upstairs. It’s an overweight teenage boy with short fair hair, round face and eyeglasses resting on his small nose. He has Captain America’s shield on his T-shirt and he’s holding a can of energy drink in his hand.

He seems surprised by the fact there’s a young female in their house. In fact, he stands there like petrified. Whisper wonders if it’s because of her presence or the guy is just not over his father’s death yet.

“Hi,” Whisper gives him a compassionate smile.

“H...hey,” the boy stutters and Whisper sees countless unsaid questions in his green eyes.

At that moment, his mother and Ophelia step into the room. Ophelia managed to console the woman to the point her uncontrollable wailing changed into sobbing. A while later, they’re sitting around a glass table with a cup of tea in front of them.

Ophelia starts to carefully interrogate the woman to find out as much about the victim as possible. All they find out is that he was a university professor of philosophy and he lived a normal life. The woman’s answers are vague and don’t get them anywhere close to the solution.

Whisper notices that the boy, Arthur junior, doesn’t say a word throughout the whole conversation. However, the girl has a feeling he would give much more interesting answers if he decided to speak.

“Arthur?” Whisper addresses the boy. “Would you mind if we went for a walk? Just you and me?”

Arthur Taylor junior apparently feels extremely insecure when Whisper is around and the girl tries hard to hide her amusement. If she started to giggle, she would ruin her already slim chances to pry something useful out of the young man.

Whisper isn’t a paragon of beauty, but it’s enough to completely disconcert a boy who apparently never came this close to a woman before. A bit of confidence would help him a lot.

“You and your dad - were you close?” the girl asks as the duo walks through the university campus. A black flag flies above the main entrance to honor the deceased professor.

“Uhm… not really,” Art replies, avoiding eye contact with Whisper. “We were… different. Almost every talk we had ended in an argument, so we rarely talked to each other. Almost every day, he stayed at school until the evening and then, when he came home, he locked himself in his workroom and worked on the computer until the late night hours.”

“What was he doing?”

Art shrugs. “Writing articles for an association of skeptics he was a member of. He loved debunking apparently paranormal occurrences just to prove there’s nothing supernatural in this world. He was so annoying with this,” he rolls his eyes. “I know it’s probably bad to say this now, but he was the dullest guy I know.”

If he only knew what I know, Whisper thinks.

“So that was the reason why didn’t you two get along well?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Art inserts his hands into his pockets, looking at the pavement under his feet. “It was one of the reasons. Y’know, I’m that kind of geek who’s into fantasy and sci-fi, which dad loathed. He was strictly against all forms of imagination and as far as I know, he crammed this philosophy even into his students’ heads. There’s a story that one student once brought one of The Witcher books into his lesson and dad tore it apart page by page. That’s why I had to hide my books from him.”

Whisper hears a slight trace of relief in his voice, as if the sentence should have ended with I’m glad I don’t have to do it anymore.

“Do you think it can have a connection to his… murder?”

“Probably not, but I don't know,” Art shrugs again. “Yeah, we used to make fun of him, but I doubt anyone would actually go as far as killing him. Maybe he had some enemies among his colleagues, he never spoke about his work much. Actually, I know almost nothing about his life.”

Whisper raises her eyebrows. “Make fun of him?”

“Yeah. Me and some other geeks I know created a webpage called ‘The Man Without Imagination’. There we shared memes about him and such, one guy even made remixes of his lectures… y’know, dad was really passionate about things he preached. He knew about the page and he was furious about it, but he could do nothing against it. If he knew I’m the main contributor… damn, it would have consequences.”

“Are you going to take the page down?”

“Probably. I guess it would be disrespectful if we kept it running.”

“In that case,” Whisper says, “could you keep the page up at least until we solve the case? It may actually help us. I don’t know how, but just in case.”

“Sure, I’ll tell the guys,” Art looks her in the eyes for the first time. “By the way, who is we?”

Whisper smiles. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Art smirks back. “I’m open-minded. So who are you working for? FBI? Men in Black? Or some secret organization I have no idea about?”

“You’re close,” Whisper gives him a mysterious smile.

“Did you find out something interesting?” Whisper asks Ophelia on their way back to the headquarters.

The woman shakes her head. “That woman is hopeless. She was either crying or telling me stuff she already told me three times. I know it sounds insensitive, but if we continue like this, we won’t find the killer. What about you, Wisp? How was your date with Art?”

Whisper ignores Ophelia’s mocking and tells her about everything Art told her. Ophelia gives her an appreciative nod. Bringing Whisper with her was a good idea after all - Ophelia doubts the boy would be so open if she asked him instead of Whisper. A person is usually more talkative when around peers.

“Good job,” Ophelia says. “Sienna should take a look at that webpage. Honestly, it’s not much, but we have to start somewhere. Maybe someone with special powers visited the page and decided to show that man everything he believed in is a lie.”

“Kinda improbable, but I’m not the one to judge,” Whisper says. When both women left the house of Taylors, Whisper took off her shoes and decided to continue the walk barefoot. It’s no surprise for Ophelia - she already knows how peculiar is the niece of her husband.

Back at the headquarters, both women explain the situation to the rest of the team. Sienna immediately turns on the computer in the corner of the room and finds the webpage Art was talking about. It’s just like the boy described it - full of jokes about the late professor and his hatred toward anything fantastical.

The latest post involves a picture of an old man with a long white beard - a stereotypical depiction of God - with a caption: Professor Arthur Taylor died yesterday and he already managed to prove I don’t exist after I took him here. Parker lets out a short laugh. No other member of the team finds it funny.

“The archive is pretty extensive,” Sienna states. “At least twenty people actively contributed to this page - I suppose his students. It has also many passive visitors and subscribers who just come to laugh at the memes.” She finds a video in the Most popular section.

“Professor Taylor about fantastical literature - Remix by BigBeast420,” Gary reads the name.

Sienna clicks the Play button. The video is recorded secretly and depicts professor Taylor speaking in front of his class. This time, it’s harder not to laugh since a repetitive musical background is playing over the video and Taylor’s voice is autotuned so it appears he’s rapping.

The group listens to what he says.

“You achieve nothing in life if you cling to nonsensical, unreal fantasies!” Taylor preaches, marching around the classroom and making theatrical hand gestures. “What’s the point of wasting time with something that’s not even real? I appeal to you, dear students, live for here and now, not for anything nonexistent! Only then you can lie on your deathbed in peace, knowing you spent your life in reality. Fiction is a drug and its authors are but dealers! And just like drugs, nonexistent… nonexistent can ruin your life!”

“Wow, that guy is really a lunatic,” Whisper comments. “Who else can say something like this about reading books? Now I understand why was he so ridiculed.”

Another video is titled Professor Taylor - These Two Eyes (BigBeast420 Remix). Out of curiosity, Sienna clicks on it. Taylor once again speaks in front of the students, this time apparently about skepticism. “Every sane person should only believe what they see with these two eyes!” Taylor points his index and middle finger at his eyes. Finally, electronic music starts playing and Taylor saying These two eyes is played in a loop, creating an impressive musical piece.

“One thing is to admit, that guy who did the remix had some talent,” Parker comments.

The video continues: “There is nothing supernatural or paranormal. That’s a domain of gullible people! Nobody with a working brain would believe in such things. Everything must have an explanation!” The word Explanation is once again looped and remixed.

“Is it bad that I’m starting to side with the killer?” Whisper asks.

Wiccan chuckles. “True, that guy is nuts, but we still have to find out who killed him and stop them. At least now we know he had controversial opinions which could have set certain people against him, especially those who are living proof his words aren’t true.”

“Or a bookworm who just went berserk,” Whisper adds. “If someone started to speak about books like this in front of me, I’d have no problem to cram all that paper into his skull.”

The team lets Sienna work her magic with the computer. Someone has to constantly refill the cup on Sienna’s table with something rich in caffeine.

“That seems to be useless,” Sienna says after about an hour. “I was able to retrieve the IP addresses of the people who are logged on this page, but there are too many entries and that renders it useless. Some even use anonymizers such as VPN networks or the TOR browser. It could be any of them, or neither.”

A moment later, Ophelia enters the room with a phone on her ear. She finishes the call she was having and inserts the device back into her pocket.

“I just finished talking with ELIPSA headquarters,” she announces. When she sees the confused faces of the four new recruits, she explains: “Entries and Locations of Individuals Possessing Special Abilities. That’s an agency serving under The Society. Their task is to keep an eye on all people who display special powers or talents that could be useful for us.”

“In short, the fuckers who followed me everywhere I went and whose files you used to blackmail me?” Parker looks at Wiccan.

The man doesn’t let himself get disconcerted. “Precisely,” he replies with a straight face. Then he turns to his wife. “What did they say?”

Ophelia answers the question with a telling shrug. “The only registered PSPs in the Trinity Gate area are Parker, Whisper and Gary,” she says. “They have no information about any other person of such kind.”

“Maybe they just did a good job at avoiding their attention,” Gary suggests.

Wiccan shakes his head. “It’s hella hard to avoid ELIPSA’s attention. Once you display any form of supernatural abilities, you have a target on your back and you can’t get rid of it. A PSP not registered within ELIPSA’s archives would have to live in complete seclusion, hidden from everyone and everything.”

“But then, this sounds like a description of someone who would commit a murder,” Parker notes.

“So, to sum it up,” Sienna says, “we’re looking for a person with supernatural powers who lives in complete loneliness, yet must have some kind of internet connection or another link to the outside world since they seem to have taken revenge on Professor Taylor.”

“Seems about right,” Wiccan nods. “Unfortunately, that also probably rules out the possibility that the murderer is one of Taylor’s students. A university student who would display any trace of a supernatural ability would be immediately tracked by ELIPSA.”

“That means we’re back at the beginning,” Parker sums it up.

“That’s right,” Wiccan sighs. “We have clues, but nothing that could help us piece them together. And we should work pretty damn fast before the killer claims another victim.”

At that time, they have no idea this resolution can’t be fulfilled.

Author’s Note

I wholeheartedly thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and if you did, please leave a comment, send me a message or share and let more people know about this story! You can also consider a small donation at www.paypal.me/lukassladky. Have a great day and stay tuned for the next chapter!

#writeblr #my writing #writers #urban fantasy #original fiction #TeamDreamcatcher

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mothermaidenclone-blog · 7 years ago

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A Wrinkle in Time or Can Giant Oprah Winfrey be my Fairy Godmother Please?

As soon as I heard about A Wrinkle in Time, I was very excited about it. The first ever live action movie with a budget of over $100 million to be directed by a black woman (Ava DuVernay), and it’s a science fantasy adventure starring a black teenage girl who’s a scientist - what more could you want? The costume and set design were both out of this world, pun very much intended, and I thought that most of the characters were three dimensional, well thought out and had meaningful interactions with each other. The plot, however, left something to be desired, as I felt it was a little all over the place and had a tendency to trail off in places. Admittedly, I have not read the novel, so this could be a problem with adaptation rather than writing.

*A Wrinkle In Time spoilers follow*

A Wrinkle in Time is predominantly the story of Meg Murry (Storm Reid), a young, teenage girl who is angry and disillusioned at the mysterious disappearance of her father, Dr. Alexander Murry (Chris Pine). The very first time we see Meg she is a child, enjoying and engaged in a science experiment with her father. She continues to be portrayed as a scientist throughout the film, explaining apparently magical phenomena, such as flying, using scientific terminology, as well as practically employing principles to save herself and her friends; for example, using strong winds to slingshot them to safety. S.T.E.M. fields are still overwhelmingly dominated by men that it’s so important for a children’s film, that many young girls will hopefully watch, to exemplify a black, teenage, female scientist as a role model.

Science aside, Meg sets a good example in a number of other ways. As an understandable consequence of feeling abandoned by her father - as well as being inexplicably bullied by other girls at her school because of his disappearance and a string of awful teachers talking about her behind her back, telling her that she’s not living up to her potential - Meg has very low self esteem at the start of the film. She aggressively rebuffs a compliment about her hair from her friend Calvin (Levi Miller) and she has trouble tessering - the means by which the characters travel instantaneously through the universe - because she does not entirely want to appear as herself again on the other side. Furthermore, Mrs. Whatsit (Reese Witherspoon) constantly and loudly professes her disappointment and lack of faith in Meg. At the end, this is presented as a sort of tough love and that Mrs. Whatsit really did believe in Meg all along, but a grown woman continually putting down an already troubled teenage girl gave parts of the film a weird tone that I did not enjoy.

However, Meg’s character develops, which is crucial for a young, female audience to see. This is partly shown through positive interactions between female characters; for example, Meg tells the Mrs., “The three of you are beautiful,” and one of them replies, “Thank you, and so are you.” This might seem banal, but to just blatantly show women positively supporting each other in a way that children will understand is vital. So often in Hollywood, women are portrayed as rivals, especially where looks and beauty are concerned, so to attempt to normalise women giving each other compliments and accepting them in return is so important. Continuing with this theme, A Wrinkle in Time firmly cements Meg’s rise in self esteem by showing her to accept a compliment about her hair later on in the film - she is beginning to like herself more without having changed how she looks at all.

This isn’t just limited to the physical, Meg comes to terms with her own faults, thanks to the originally seemingly ill-intentioned gift of honest self appraisal from Mrs. Whatsit, and realises that yes, they are a part of her, but they do not define her. Meg’s winning move against the evil entity of the film, the IT (David Oleyowo) is to boldly declare, “You should love me because I deserve to be loved.” She finally appreciates her own self-worth and has confidence in her many abilities. This is finally confirmed by Meg opening the portal that takes her and her brother, Charles Wallace (Deric McCabe), safely home - she is content with who she will be on the other side. It is so important to leave the audience with no doubt that Meg is comfortable, confident and happy with herself as a person - whilst not depicting her as being unattainably perfect, she is aware of and at peace with her flaws - because much of that audience will be young girls. I think this film has succeeded by portraying and praising this development and extolling a teenage girl who believes in herself.

Although Meg is the main character in A Wrinkle in Time, she is surrounded by many other wonderful female role models. Most predominant is her mother, Dr. Kate Murry (Gugu Mbatha Raw). Kate is presented as a scientist with equal standing to her husband, which is wonderful in and of itself, seeing as he is a white man and they usually dominate this field. In fact, Kate is seen as more respectable, as Alex is tutted off stage for his wild theories, but the same audience seems more willing to listen to her. When Alex goes off on a tirade after being rejected by the reputable scientific community, Kate offers him some sage advice, “In order to be great, it isn't enough to just be right, you have to actually be great, and we are. So why can’t you just help them along?” Not only is she a rational scientist, but an empathetic and practical person. Furthermore, Alex gives Kate all the credit for the science behind his journey; “Your calculations gave us the universe.” On top of all of this, she copes as a single mother for years and never gives up on her absentee husband, despite all the rumours about him. Kate is a very admirable woman, capable scientist and caring mother who provides a solid, realistic role model amidst all the fantasy.

More ostentatious exemplars take the form of the three Mrs.; the aforementioned Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Which (Oprah Winfrey) and Mrs. Who (Mindy Kaling). This trio comprises of one white woman, one black woman and one woman of Indian descent, so that’s a move in the right direction as far as representation is concerned. These women are self-proclaimed warriors in the name of light who display a variety of incredible powers such as physical transformation, bestowing magical gifts and being able to traverse the universe using only their own will power. Other than Mrs. Whatsit’s previously stated slights, the three are constantly encouraging, and do everything in their power to help the children on their quest. Even Mrs. Whatsit is positive to other women, declaring Kate as, “dazzling”. Speaking of which, the three women look completely magnificent; they have a variety of costume changes throughout the film, all of which serve to make them look regal, majestic and powerful. Another striking visual choice was to make Mrs. Which massive - I don’t mean fat or muscly, just like three times the size of a normal human. This simple manoeuvre immediately imbues her character with an innate sense of grandeur, prestige and strength. As far as their names are concerned, we never find out who they are married to; no husbands are ever mentioned, so can we infer that they are all married to each other? I hope so, because a triad of resplendent lesbian lovers who are warriors for the forces of good in the universe is just about the coolest role model I can think of for a children’s film.

One final named female character remains, Veronica (Rowan Blanchard). She is maybe the ringleader of the - to it’s credit, surprisingly ethnically diverse - group of girls who are bullying Meg for the baffling reason that her father is missing. Veronica doesn’t factor much into the film, except that she mirrors Meg’s journey of self-love and acceptance. She is a bully at the the beginning, but we gain a glimpse into her personal life and see that this could be because she is self-conscious perhaps to the point of an eating disorder - she has written all of the foods she won’t allow herself to eat on her mirror. However, at the end of the film she is starting to become more friendly towards Meg, and we can only hope towards herself too. Veronica is symptomatic of what I believe to be so important about the female characters in A Wrinkle in Time; she is on a journey of development and self acceptance.

Overall, there is a great variety of wonderful female characters in A Wrinkle in Time. They are diverse not only in looks, but also in personality, and between them display a remarkable list of laudable traits including curiosity, scientific aptitude, bravery, confidence, magical powers, determination and the ability to love - their friends, family and, perhaps most importantly, themselves. What is arguably most crucial about these characters, especially Meg, is that they were not presented as being unbelievably flawless from the start, but as real human women who develop, interact positively with each other and become stronger as the film progresses. It doesn’t matter to me that the story was sort of nonsense, I think A Wrinkle in Time has triumphed if it gets these messages of self-love and belief to a wide audience of children.

And now for some asides:

Wow, Chris Pine can grow a beard really far up his cheeks, that was an important revelation.

Creepy, homogenous suburbia was one of the best portrayals of hell ever.

I think Charles Wallace as a baddie was one of my all-time favourite villains, his fashion was definitely on point at least.

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yumeka36 · 7 years ago

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Fandom and the death of adulthood

A few years ago, The New York Times published an article that I found very relevant to all manner of fandoms. It’s called “The Death of Adulthood in American Culture” and it involves a film critic for The Times discussing how American society has changed over the decades in terms of what it means to be an adult; he cites popular TV shows, movies, and books that reflect how the old view of adulthood – being part of an authority-following, gender role-centered society – has been losing popularity in favor of a freer and more rebellious idea of adulthood, most notably one that embraces childhood and supposedly childish things rather than cast them off.

The majority of the article talks about American TV shows, celebrities, books, etc., that I’m not too familiar with, but the basic idea of this “death of adulthood” is something that extends to all branches of pop culture and fandoms of the past 20-30 years, all over the world. A perfect example is an incident the author of the article, A.O. Scott, mentions about how a journalist named Rush Graham published an essay on the topic of how adults between the ages of 30-44 should feel ashamed for buying young adult literature (for themselves, not for their kids). Readers of her essay were furious of course, and Scott described their sentiment as “‘Don’t tell me what to do!’ as if Graham were a bossy, uncomprehending parent warning the kids away from sugary snacks toward more nutritious, chewier stuff.” He goes on to say that “It was not an argument she was in a position to win, however persuasive her points. To oppose the juvenile pleasures of empowered cultural consumers is to assume, wittingly or not, the role of scold, snob or curmudgeon.”

So if “young adult literature” should be for “young adults (older kids/teenagers) only”, then so should most video games, anime/manga, and so-called children’s literature like Harry Potter, and certainly My Little Pony, Disney movies, and any work of fiction that doesn’t scream “For adults only!” So for those of us who are a part of these fandoms, should we feel embarrassed? I’m sure most of you will say “no,” which is great, and it definitely shows how times have changed.

To illustrate further, my mom (who’s currently 72 years old) doesn’t have a problem with my hobbies. But it does puzzle her at times and I can understand why. After all, when she was growing up in the 1950s-1960s, what it meant to be an adult was simpler, but also limited: men and women would get married and have kids, with the men having full-time jobs and supporting the family while the women would take care of the home and the kids. In addition to these societal roles, there were also personality expectations: men were supposed to be masculine and authoritative, and like manly things like sports and cars, while women were supposed to be motherly and into womanly things like fashion, romance, and raising children. Men and women who indulged in childish things like collecting toys and reading comic books were basically unheard of, or if they did exist, they kept themselves hidden. So you can imagine how someone from those times must feel when they see grown men make a fuss over the cute little Pokemon plushie they just bought, or women who spend their free time playing PS4 games together over Skype instead of raising a family.

Going back to the article, Scott continues on this topic by saying that “In my main line of work as a film critic, I have watched over the past 15 years as the studios committed their vast financial and imaginative resources to the cultivation of franchises (some of them based on those same Young Adult novels) that advance an essentially juvenile vision of the world. Comic-book movies, family-friendly animated adventures, tales of adolescent heroism and comedies of arrested development do not only make up the commercial center of 21st-century Hollywood. They are its artistic heart.” I certainly agree with this as all one has to do is look at the most popular movies of the past two decades to see that they’re not the standard adult fare of Hollywood romances and dramas from yesteryear, but the very kinds of “juvenile” stories that Scott described: they’re the animated adventures from Disney and Dreamworks, the comic book sagas like Iron Man and The Avengers, and the fantasy epics like Harry Potter and Star Wars…the young adult stories that are marketed for a younger audience yet keep garnering a noticeable adult demographic. And there’s no denying that the main consumers of anime products, video games, and comic books are adults. I would even claim that the majority of Pokemon fans nowadays are adults rather than kids, evidence being that every Pokemon tournament I’ve been to in the past few years has had more adult participants than kids.

So, should we mourn this death of adulthood? I’m biased of course, but I’m definitely happy to embrace a more free and open-minded idea of adulthood than we had before. To me, being an adult simply means being responsible, thoughtful, intelligent, and self sufficient…if one is able to be in these tough times of course. And that could be another, less positive reason for this so-called death of adulthood: a lot of the current generation can’t afford to live like adults. I can’t speak for other countries, but here in the US, a young person being able to “move out and start their own life,” with that life entailing the ability to pursue pleasure and luxury while still being financially secure, is becoming increasingly difficult to accomplish when the cost of living is always going up and salaries never seem to keep up. So it’s no wonder that those in their late 20s or older who are still living like they did in their teen years, not necessarily by choice, feel no rush to grow up when adulthood has become synonymous with debt, overwork, and stress. There’s no avoiding at least some adult responsibilities, like holding down a job and paying bills, but being able to indulge in the fictional worlds of TV shows, movies, and video games is becoming increasingly attractive for adults to escape a stressful and unsatisfying life rather than just a playground for children’s’ imaginations.

Regardless of whether you’re over 30 and still living with your parents, or whether you’re one of the lucky ones who found a great job right out of college and are living happily on your own, adulthood shouldn’t be defined by how one chooses to live their life or the kinds of things they’re interested in. I’m glad that in every college class I’ve taken and every job I’ve had, there’s always been at least a few people (adults mind you) who like anime, video games, or other of these so-called childish hobbies. And at the recent fan conventions I’ve been to, I’ve been seeing more and more couples with children attending, obviously because the parents like this stuff and not just their kids. So they can now pass on this idea to the next generation that it’s perfectly fine for adults to indulge in cartoons and games as well. As Scott says near the end of his article, “It is now possible to conceive of adulthood as the state of being forever young. Childhood, once a condition of limited autonomy and deferred pleasure (“wait until you’re older”), is now a zone of perpetual freedom and delight. Grown people feel no compulsion to put away childish things: We can live with our parents, go to summer camp, play dodge ball, collect dolls and action figures and watch cartoons to our hearts’ content. These symptoms of arrested development will also be signs that we are freer, more honest and happier than the uptight fools who let go of such pastimes.”

It’s a very, very different world than it was 50 years ago, or even 20 years ago. A lot of things have changed for the worse unfortunately, but what I’ve discussed here is something that I feel has changed for the better. So to wrap up this post, I’ll give you one last quote from Scott’s article that sums up our fandom-consuming, Internet-inspired generation very well: “A crisis of authority is not for the faint of heart. It can be scary and weird and ambiguous. But it can be a lot of fun, too. The best and most authentic cultural products of our time manage to be all of those things. They imagine a world where no one is in charge and no one necessarily knows what’s going on, where identities are in perpetual flux. Mothers and fathers act like teenagers; little children are wise beyond their years. Girls light out for the territory and boys cloister themselves in secret gardens. We have more stories, pictures and arguments than we know what to do with, and each one of them presses on our attention with a claim of uniqueness, a demand to be recognized as special. The world is our playground, without a dad or a mom in sight.”

*This is a revision of a previous post I wrote on my old anime blog. You can also comment on the revised post here*

*Crossposted from my main blog, Yume Dimension*

#animation #anime #cartoons #editorials #fandom #fandoms #games #nostalgia #pop culture #video games

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rieshon · 4 years ago

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Best of 2019

It wouldn't be a best of the year post if it wasn't hopelessly late.

10: Shinchou Yuusha ~Kono Yuusha ga Ore TUEEE Kuse ni Shinchou Sugiru~ ∥ White Fox ∥ Dir. Sakoi Masayuki: The title makes this sound like it could be terrible but this series has a Konosuba-like aplomb that makes it one of the best comedies of the year. Toyosaki Aki is absolutely brilliant as the shithead damegami Listarte and the animation consistently matches her over-the-top comedic masterclass. The show even has a real ending; opinion is split but I found it surprisingly satisfying.

9: Babylon ∥ Revoroot ∥ Dir. Suzuki Kiyotaka: This is the first Strand-type anime. Babylon is incredibly hard to describe and, having only seen it once, I'm not even fully confident in saying what it's about. It is a wild ride that meditates on some serious themes and seems to come to conclusions that won't be entirely comfortable for a lot of readers. This is one you really have to experience for yourself.

8: Tate no Yuusha no Nariagari ∥ Kinema Citrus ∥ Dir. Abo Takao: The most discoursed-about series of 2019 ends up being a surprisingly mature take on the isekai tensei genre. Like the best entries in the genre it features a protagonist who is deeply flawed and Naofumi's journey to learning to trust and love again is genuinely moving. It definitely does come off a bit like an incel fantasy at first but it is ultimately way more nuanced than that could ever suggest. Also, Raphtalia is best wife.

7: Kouya no Kotobuki Hikoutai ∥ Gemba ∥ Dir. Mizushima Tsutomu: Tsutomu, you son of a bitch, you did it again. While Kotobuki doesn't reach the rareified air of Garupan (pun not intended) it is very much in the same vein, and offers unending joy to any nerd who loves warplanes or just aviation in general. The script from the always-excellent Yokote Michiko is tight and compelling and gives a genuinely interesting backdrop to the frenetic plane action. Kotobuki is an excellent example of the power of showing rather than telling, something anime is woefully bad at: the fact that Kotobuki's isekai setting is never really expounded on makes it that much more interesting.

6: Hitori Bocchi no Marumaru Seikatsu ∥ C2C ∥ Dir. Anzai Takefumi: If Katsuwo's other work to be adapted into anime, Mitsuboshi Colors, is about being a child, then Bocchi is about the fraught transition from childhood into early adulthood. The titular Hitori Bocchi will be a frighteningly relatable character (my comment for the first episode on my blog was 'We Are All Bocchi') but unlike other series clearly aimed at alienated nerds, the show never feels sorry for Bocchi and most importantly, Bocchi doesn't feel sorry for herself. The show is explicitly about the importance of stepping outside of your comfort zone and although it's hard for Bocchi to do this, with the help of her friends she's able to work up the courage necessary to grow from a scared child into a functioning young adult. Also she's cute as fuck.

5: Machikado Mazoku ∥ J.C. Staff ∥ Dir. Sakurai Hiroaki: This is one of the best Kirara anime in ages. Kohara Konomi and Kitou Akari are a wonderful comedic combination, and Shamiko is probably the cutest girl of the whole year. She's pretty much the definition of the phrase "moe through helplessness" which makes her quest to be an evil demon truly hilarious. Like all the best Kirara anime, Machikado Mazoku slowly becomes a yuri anime as Momo's character develops and it becomes increasingly clear that she's just hard gay for Shamiko. I could watch these two be tsundere for each other forever.

4: Joshikousei no Mudazukai ∥ Passione ∥ Dir. Takahashi Takeo: There were a lot of excellent comedies this year and I always find them hard to review. Where Mudazukai particularly excels is the crassness of its characters: like the title suggests these aren't your typical cutesy anime JKs. They crack dirty jokes, take the piss out of each other, and feel more genuinely like friends than a lot of high school girls in anime. Akasaki Chinatsu in particular is pitch-perfect as 'Baka,' its like she was born to be stupid. Probably the funniest show of the year, even though I have one comedy ranked above it.

3: Senkizesshou Symphogear XV ∥ Satelight ∥ Dir. Ono Katsumi: The fact that a Symphogear series could end up this high on the rankings is something like a miracle. After years of me shitting all over it for incomprehensible plotlines and disposable characters, they somehow not only fixed it in the last season, but even retroactively redeemed some of the elements from those shitty third and fourth seasons and created some of the most thrilling moments of the year in the process. It even goes as far as to reach back to the first season and address the latent themes of Japanese nationalism that have always hung over the show in resolving Tsubasa's character arc. XV delivers such a satisfying conclusion that it fully justifies the past six years spent on developing the Symphogear series in a way I never thought possible. It's a beautiful thing to behold.

2: Kaguya-sama wa Kokurasetai ~Tensai-tachi no Ren'ai Zunousen~ ∥ A-1 Pictures ∥ Dir. Hatakeyama Mamoru: The romantic comedy is probably the most prolific genre in late night anime, and Kaguya-sama stands shoulder to shoulder with the greats. Everything from the voice acting (Koga Aoi should be a superstar, and Kohara Konomi is already on her way to being a household name) to the animation to the direction to the writing is superb. Kaguya even delivers in spades in the "romantic" side of "romantic comedy" which isn't something every rabukome can say. The number of series that I can say have made me cry from laughing and from emotion is pretty small, but Kaguya is proudly among them.

1: Araburu Kisetsu no Otome-domo yo ∥ Lay-duce ∥ Dir. Andou Masahiro & Tsukada Takurou: After all these years, Okada Mari has finally delivered her magnum opus. There has perhaps never been a more frank discussion of female adolescent sexuality than Araoto, drawing heavily as it does from Okada's own lived experience as a confused and bullied teenager. These girls are fragile people who are walking a knife's edge between childhood and adulthood, and they don't always keep their balance. As someone who didn't grow up as a girl, it's not something I can intrinsically understand, but it's a testament to Okada's writing that Araoto MAKES you understand what it's like to be a teenage girl going through puberty. It's ugly, it's dangerous, it's scary, and... it's something every woman goes through. Araoto deftly tackles themes of discovering ones sexuality, homosexuality, and the pressure put on young women by a society that both sexualizes them against their will but also demands that they remain chaste and pure. It is unlike almost anything else that's ever been made in this medium, and that's why it's my anime of the year.

Honorable mentions... Like I said above, this was a strong year for comedy so some good series didn't make the cut. Ueno-san wa Bukiyou was a great showcase for Serizawa Yuu's comedic chops (which us Pripara fans have known about for years) and featured some of the most memorable gags of the year... Kemurikusa saw Tatsuki triumphantly return to television with his first full length work since Kemono Friends, and I frankly found it to be better than Kemofure; a truly enjoyable work of post-apocalyptic science fiction... Speaking of science fiction, I also feel compelled to mention Kanata no Astra, which seemed underappreciated but ended up being an extremely well-written SF series. Of course, we also have to mention Kono Yo no Hate de Koi wo Utau Shoujo YU-NO if we're talking about science fiction; I didn't particularly like YU-NO's second half that much, but it's worth watching if only to understand where so much of modern anime comes from in the first place.

The awards go to...

Best Actress: Koga Aoi as Shinomiya Kaguya, Kaguya-sama wa Kokurasetai. I mentioned above that this girl should be a superstar, and it's frankly absurd that she hasn't gotten more leading roles considering the considerable talent she shows off as Kaguya. She's a one-woman wrecking crew in this series, with her ability to effortlessly straddle the range between "cold and detached psychopath" and "petulant 8 year old throwing a tantrum" being the lynchpin of a lot of the series fundamental humor.

(Honorable mention: Akasaki Chinatsu as "Baka," Joshikousei no Mudazukai; Yukino Satsuki as Magase Ai, Babylon)

Newcomer Seiyuu of the Year: Kohara Konomi. It's a sweep for Kaguya-sama, and the voice acting is a big part of the reason that show was so exceptional. It kind of feels like cheating to give this to someone who's already played a Precure, but Toei were just really ahead of the curve on this one. 'Koko-chan' exploded onto the scene in 2019 between her roles as Fujiwara-shoki and Shamiko in Machikado Mazoku, with a distinctive vocal style and a knack for comedic delivery. Several of the most memetic lines of the year, like Fujiwara's "Don da yo!" and Shamiko's "Kore de katta to omou nayo!" come courtesy of her, and I feel like that ability to stick in people's minds is a testament to her level of talent. Though I gave Koga the nod overall for her performance as Kaguya, it's clear that Kohara is the one the industry has earmarked for future success with the level of prominence she's had over the past year or so, so she gets this award.

(Honorable mention: Fairouz Ai. "Fai-chan" made a splash thanks to her unusual background, but she's also proven to be a talented actress after appearing from seemingly out of nowhere to play Hibiki in the Onegai Muscle anime. It's out of the scope of this post, but she really made an impression in Oshibudo as Eripiyo, but her body of work is still too thin for her to win this award outright. She's shown she has a knack for the funny with her brusque and aggressive delivery, but I'd really like to hear her as a dramatic lead sometime soon.)

#best of the year

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queen-of-deans-booty · 7 years ago

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There’s a Time and a Place For Everything

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, John (mentioned), unnamed Djinn, unnamed Witch

Word Count: 3,370

Warnings: Barely there angst, some dean fluff, not that many warnings, mentions of Seasons 1-4 major plots so spoilers if you haven’t seen them.

Request: Can you do a Dean x reader where they both turn young again (or however old teen Dean was) and Sam teases them and makes crappy jokes so Dean and her go out to the impala and they fall in love there

Author’s Note: If you want to be tagged, leave an ask or message and I’ll add you! Same goes for my Series Rewrite! If you want to request a fic, please send them in! I love writing what you guys want!

Feedback is always appreciated

Tags at the bottom

If you had to redo your entire life to even change the smallest of things, you wouldn’t do it. You loved how you grew up, you loved the people you grew up with, you loved how things eventually turned out. You were engaged to the oldest Winchester and you wouldn’t change a thing.

You grew up with the Winchesters, always travelling with them since your parents died at such a young age. John Winchester took you in and gave you a home when you had none. You met Sam and Dean and you three became best friends.

You had a ton of fun with the brothers, even on the hunts you went on. You tried to include Sam in almost everything you and Dean did. Dean was the oldest out of the three then it was you and then Sam was the youngest. It was ironic how Sam was the tallest out of the three.

You were 2 years younger than Dean but two years older than Sam. When you got the chance, you three always hung out outside of hunting, always getting into trouble and just enjoyed being a kid that had a normal life.

Not that your little fantasy would last long but you had that moment to yourself and you held onto it for as long as you could. As you three grew up, those moments became shorter and shorter until they were no more.

You and the brothers didn’t hang out together like you used to. That didn’t mean you didn’t hunt together; you did. But you wished you could escape the world for even a few hours with them.

But they could never find the time.

There was always something that had to pop up like closing the gates of Hell or dealing with the tall ex-blood junkie, or Dean going to hell or however many shits the world decided to drop on you. You’ve found yourself trying to find an escape goat to relax because if you were stressed, then you weren’t going to do your job correctly.

But then you found a case where a witch was turning the clocks back for people, making them younger, making them kids and teens again just for the sake of having a little fun. That caught your eye but that wasn’t life threatening until you found out the witches were working with a Djinn that would suck the life out of the younger people.

The witches would make people younger, only if they had a good childhood that they wouldn’t mind going back to. That gave them good memories and that gave the Djinn an opportunity to suck their life force from their bodies.

Enter Sam and Dean Winchester. They kicked ass, finding the Djinn so fast that even he had no idea what was going on. You knocked off one less Djinn in the world to deal with but now you had to find another witch because you knew they would find another monster to deal with.

You had no idea why these witches were trying to deal with other monsters but that wasn’t your job to know why. Your job was to take them all out and that is what you three were going to do.

With a little background research, thanks to Sam doing all the work, you figured out there was a bar that a few of the witches worked at but it wasn’t just any bar. It looked like a bar to normal people but there was a secret underground facility that welcomed all kinds of monsters.

You thought that is where they held their “interviews” to find new monsters. Whatever the case may be, you were here to put a stop to it.

You walked inside the lively bar and walked straight to the bar with the Winchesters on your tail. The thing you loved about hunting with the Winchesters, everyone in the Supernatural world knew who you three were. They just didn’t know what you looked like because almost none of them lived to tell the tale.

“What can I get you three?” The busty bartender asked. You smiled at her and looked at Dean so he could order for the three of you.

“Just three beers, please.” Dean said, looking at her eyes the whole time. You smiled and thought about Dean as a kid. He was always horny, getting with every girl that showed the tiniest bit of interest in him. He was a whiny ass as well, and don’t forget the time he actually tried to make a move on the older women who just laughed in his face.

You loved Dean back then but, of course, you were the shy kid, always letting people come to you first, not that confident in what you wore or who you acted so you couldn’t possibly tell Dean that you liked him. It would probably ruin your chances with him. If only you knew that Dean harbored real feelings for you back then, then maybe things would have been different.

“Sure thing.” She said with a smile, getting the bottles of beer and handing it to you and the brothers. You sat in the middle of them, just sitting down and relaxing.

“You know what we haven’t done in a long time?” You asked the brothers.

“What’s that?” Sam asked, looking at you.

“Remember back then, we used to sneak off and just pretend we were normal kids for a few hours? We let the wind through our hair and our worries would just fade away because in those moments, we had each other and that is all that mattered.” You said, remembering the good times.

“Ah, yes, who can forget the time of Dean’s bee fiasco?” Sam said with a laugh.

“Hey, at the time I didn’t know it was a bee’s nest and it was hot anyways. We were lucky that pond was there or else we would have been bee food.” Dean said, shaking his head.

“Anyways, we haven’t done that in a while.” You said, looking at Dean.

“What, fuck up a beehive?” He said with a smirk.

“No,” You said, playfully slapping his arm. “I’m talking about escaping this life we live. I’m not saying it’ bad but I think we deserve some fun, right?”

“We did have fun back then. We have so many good memories, right Sam?” Dean said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Half the time, you two would ditch me and I would have to walk back to the room myself and explain to dad why you two weren’t with me.” Sam said, drinking his beer.

“Sorry, Sam, I tried to include you too but you were so much younger than Dean that he didn’t want a child with us while we broke the law.” You giggled.

“Good times, I’ll tell you.” Dean said with a smile.

“Okay, well we are still on a case so I think I’m going to go back to the motel room to do some more research.” Sam said, pushing his half-full beer to you so you could finish it.

“Way to be a buzz kill, Sam.” You said with a grin.

“Hey, research is what I love to do. I’ll see you guys later.” He said, leaving you and Dean at the bar.

“So, want to drink something stronger?” You asked Dean with a smirk.

“I thought you would never ask, sweetheart.” Dean said, flagging down the bartender. You and Dean did a lot of shots, making sure you were having fun. The bartender seemed to be extra nice, giving away shots for free which would have tipped you off but you were drunk as hell right now.

“Okay, I think we’re done here.” You said with a giggle, stumbling off the barstool.

“Should I call you guys a cab?” The bartender asked.

“No, we’ll have Sammy pick us up.” You said, grinning at Dean who nodded.

“Yeah, he’s missing out on all this fun we’re having.” Dean said with a laugh. You took out your phone and called Sam, hoping he was up.

“Guys, I’m busy.” Sam answered.

“Sammy!!! Hey!! Look, your brother and I need your help.” You slurred.

“Are you drunk?” He asked with a sigh.

“Yes, I am and even as drunk as I am, there is no way I am letting equally drunk Dean driving us back there so get your cute ass here so you can help us.” You said with a laugh.

“Unbelievable. Alright, I’m on my way.” He said and then he hung up.

“Man, Sam is just rude. He hung up on me.” You said to Dean who shrugged. He slung an arm around your shoulder and walked to the front door. If you would have looked back, you would have seen the bartender watching you, taking some money from a man who just smirked.

As soon as you stepped out the front door, your whole world changed. You weren’t drunk anymore. You watched as the world got bigger or as you shrunk. You looked around, confused as to where you were. The last thing you remember was taking out a werewolf with John and his boys.

You looked to your right and saw Dean standing there, equally a confused as you were.

“Dean, where the hell are we?” You asked, looking back at the bar but nothing was looking familiar.

“Hey, that’s my dad’s car.” You looked at Dean to see him walking to the Impala which you loved so much. You were always envious of the fact that John let Dean drive it but not you. Granted, Dean was 14 and you were 12 and not legally allowed to drive yet but that didn’t stop John.

“Where is John? Where’s Sammy?” You asked, walking over to the car and peering inside the backseat. No one was back there, not even a little bit of evidence as to give away someone had been sitting there.

“Let’s check inside.” Dean said, taking you to the front door of the bar. You walked in and all head turned to you, staring at you, wondering why a couple of teenagers were in here. You grabbed Dean’s hand since you cowered under their stares.

You never were good in crowds. You were shy as hell and Dean understood that. Dean took your hand happily and let you squeeze it as he made his way to the bar. The bartender looked down and you could see a faint smirk on her face.

“What are you guys doing in here? Kids aren’t supposed to be in here.” She said, cleaning the top of the bar. You looked at Dean because there was no way you could speak to a woman like that, her breasts almost falling out of her top.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, we aren’t staying long. We’re looking for someone and we were hoping you’d seen him.” Dean said, turning his charm on. He was easily 10 years younger than she was, maybe more but that didn’t stop him from flirting with her. You bit your lip and looked down, not happy with this but it wasn’t like you could just tell Dean how you felt. It didn’t work like that.

“Maybe I can help.” She said with a smile.

“Great, he’s an older gentleman, dark hair, always looked tired, answers to name John.” Dean said, not giving away too much because you never knew if there were monsters listening in. You couldn’t give yourself away.

“No, I’m sorry, there isn’t anyone here that matches that.” She said.

“What about a small child? Well, he’s only two years younger than I am but his name is Sam. He has shaggy brown hair and dimples if he smiles hard enough.” You said, worried about the Winchesters.

“Again, no child has come in here besides you two.” She said.

“Thank you.” Dean said, winking at her. He walked out of the bar again and to the Impala, leaning against it.

“Dean, we have no idea where we are and John and Sam are nowhere to be found. What are we going to do?” You asked, looking around again.

“Are you guys lost?” You looked up to see a man covered in tattoos approach you and Dean. You immediately went to his side and he put you behind him because the vibe you got from this man wasn’t good.

“No, we’re just waiting for my dad. He should be here any minute.” Dean said, looking up at the man.

“I saw you two inside, looking for a man. I think I know where he is but you would have to come with me. I saw a child with him too, looking for the two of you.” He said. You looked at Dean because you didn’t know what to do. On one hand, this man could be a monster because there was only one monster you knew who had tattoos like that.

Djinn.

“Dean? Y/N?” Your head snapped up and saw a familiar looking man walk over to you. His hair was long, down to his shoulders and he looked like someone you knew. You couldn’t place it but you felt as if you could trust him.

“Thank you, sir, but we found our dad.” You said, taking Dean’s hand and walking over to the man who you felt safe with for some reason.

“Then I must have mistaken you for someone else. My apologies.” The man said, walking off. You let out a sigh of relief and looked at the giant ass man in front of you.

“How do you know who we are?” You asked.

“I’m Sam.” He said in confusion.

“Sam? No, Sammy is 10-years-old and he’s with my dad right now. We don’t know where they are.” You said.

“Guys, what happened to you? You called me, drunk off your ass and now you’re 15?” “Sam” said, his eyes widening. “We have to go. Come on, give me the keys.”

“What? I don’t have the keys.” Dean said, finding he could trust this man. You didn’t know if this was actually Sam or what was going on but you felt as if you could trust him.

“They’re in your pocket.” Sam said impatiently. Dean fished them out and looked at them as he handed it to the man.

“Dean, that does look like Sam if he aged.” You whispered to him as you walked to the Impala.

“Yeah, I know.” Dean whispered back. You three got in the car and Sam wasted no time peeling out of the parking lot, driving down the road.

“Where are we going?” You asked from the backseat.

“Don’t worry, we’re going back to the motel room.” Sam said, driving faster.

“Where’s John?” You asked another question.

“I’ll explain everything when we get there.” Sam said, wasting no time getting to the motel room. You got out when he parked and he let you inside. You looked around to see Lore books on the table. This looked like a normal room except for the Lore books.

“Alright, give me your cellphones.” Sam said, closing the door.

“Cell phones? We don’t have any cell phones.” You said in confusion.

“They’re in your back pocket.” Sam said, sitting on one of the bed. You looked over at Dean who was already pulling out his. But that was no cell phone. You reached in your pocket and pulled out the small, thin device.

No, those weren’t cell phones. Nokia’s were cellphones and these weren’t it.

“What the hell is this?” Dean said, looking at it. Sam sighed and took them out of yours and Dean’s hands, turning them on.

“What is going on? Sam is 10 and even though you look like him if he aged, you’re not him.” You said, going to Dean’s side.

“Look, I thought about it on the way here and that bar is where the witches worked. They probably overheard you talking about how you missed being young again and then this happened. Look, that man you met was a Djinn and if I hadn’t been there, you two would have been food for him.” Sam said, not looking up as he worked.

“Hey, you’re still not answering her question. How are you Sam?” Dean asked.

“You de-aged, is how I’m Sam. You two are in your 30s and the witch did something to make you turn back into your teenage years.” Sam explained. You believed every word he said.

“So, where’s John?” You asked, afraid of the answer.

“He, uh, died 9 years ago.” Sam said quietly. You took in a deep breath and got tears. John was your adopted father and this is what you learn? You looked over at dean to see him doing that jaw thing he loved to do.

“What year is this?” Dean asked quietly.

“2015,” Sam said, giving you and Dean the phones back. “Look, I know it’s a lot to take in but I think what the witch did was she not only revered your ages, she always rewired your brain to your teenage self. What do you remember last?”

“We killed a werewolf with you and dad, the one that gave Y/N the biggest scar she ever got.” Dean said, looking at you.

“Guys, that happened 22 years ago.” Sam said.

“We lost 22 years of our life?” You asked Sam, looking at Dean with tears.

“That's not all, look at your phones.” You looked down at the phone Sam handed back to you and you gasped when you saw an older man that looked like Dean, on one knee, proposing to what looks to be your older self. Your heart raced thinking of the thought of you and Dean.

“We’re married?” You asked, looking at Dean who looked at you.

“Engaged. The reason you don’t have a ring on is because he couldn’t get one yet.” Sam said, going over to the books on the table and flipping some pages. You couldn’t take your eyes off Dean and you got tears. How embarrassing is this for you? Dean didn’t want to be with you and you could see that on his face.

You dropped the phone and ran out of the room, going inside the Impala to think. That is where you liked to be alone and everyone knew it. Not even seconds later, you heard the door opening and Dean slid next to your body.

“Dean, go away, you made it perfectly clear that you dind’t want to be engaged to me.” You said with a sniffle.

“I never said anything.” Dean said softly.

“You dind’t have to. The look on your face made it clear.” You said without looking at him. You felt two fingers pull your chin up and before you knew it, lips were on yours. Your eyes widened because not only was this your first kiss but you were kissing Dean Winchester.

Your eyes closed and you kissed him back, finally feeling at home. You knew this is where you wanted to be your entire life. But was Dean only doing this because of a picture he saw or did he actually like you? You pulled away and licked your lips, still tasting him on them.

“Dean, do you actually like me or is this because of the picture you saw?” You asked shyly. You were so nervous right now.

“It’s because I like you. I’ve always liked you. Why do you think I’ve ditched Sammy with you all those times we hung out? I wanted to be with you but you’re so damn shy that it had to be only us for me to see you for you.” Dean whispered, sliding closer to you.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” You whispered with a smile.

“Believe it because I’m not going anywhere.” Dean said, leaning in and kissing you again. He didn’t have a clue as to what he was doing but you dind’t care because any kiss that you got from Dean, you would cherish and hold onto forever.

You would get through this with Dean, hoping you were turned back soon so you can tell Dean just how much you loved him.

Forever tags:

@maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke @whit85-blog @inlovewithbja @spn67-sister @kdfrqqg @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @roxyspearing @supercalifragilistic26 @mishamigose @cobrakai1967 @essie1876 @innernightwerewolf @wishedworld

Dean tags:

@akshi8278 @winchesterandpie @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spn-applepie-imagines @tahbehonest

Other tags:

@jensen-jarpad @notnaturalanahi @27bmm

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