Kat Graham spoke on the Driven Minds podcast as a guest. She detailed mental health, health, having boundaries and even given some thoughts on how that has changed her life or blended with her career. She’s very aware that she and Bonnie had plenty of disadvantages than her co-stars and other characters because of her race. Whether that be love interests, clothing, hair or Bonnie having agency. To quote her directly: “had I been a caucasian female I do think the writing would’ve been different”

It’s just as important to hear this from her perspective first and foremost as much as the fans rallied behind her then and now.

Women Talking (2022)

Sarah Polley is one of those auteurs whose filmography plays out like a student learning their craft. Her feature film debut “Away From Her” was simplistic in its narrative, then came her autobiographical documentary “Stories We Tell” where her storytelling improved. Now we have “Women Talking” which is Polley coming into a milieu of character development and emotional strife. With the Academy Awards only a few hours away from the writing of this post, Polley will surely be dusting off space on her shelf for her well deserved Oscar.

From Miriam Toews’ novel of the same name, “Women Talking” focuses on a small group of women and girls in a Hutterite colony in Canada. Abuse has been rampant for a long time and things have hit a breaking point with the arrest of some of the colony’s most powerful elders. With charges pending, a meeting of some of the victims takes place in which a decision must be made. Will they stay behind and forgive their abusers, which would mean a place in heaven? Or will they desert the only home they ever know and risk eternal damnation? Over the course of 24 hours, that choice is debated back and forth.

The only thing contemporary about “Women Talking” is the year that the story takes place; 2010. Beyond that, this is as much a period piece as any classic novel from the 19th century adapted by Merchant-Ivory or David Lean. The characters’ fashion, speech, demeanor and movement all harken back to a long ago era, despite the year and their insulation from the outside world is also odd. Just like the Amish in Pennsylvania or Hasidic Jews in parts of Brooklyn, the past is the present, and the present is non-existent. The choice to photograph in semi-black and white was also wise as if to illustrate the purgatory that each woman lives through on a daily basis, but also the fact that they live in another universe that happens to be on Earth. Even the film score by Oscar winner Hildur Guðnadóttir has the feel of a Sci-fi epic, but with a more Classical slant. It may have taken place in recent years and brings up now-current issues such as #MeToo, but “Women Talking” couldn’t be more of an anomaly in so many categories, and that winds up being the film’s greatest strength.

“Women Talking” starts very deceptively as a Brecht style drama in which dialogue is spoken more in verse format and there’s very little emotion from each character. Words repeat nonstop and you wonder what the nucleus of the film really is. But that is the entire point, these women are conditioned to act as common folk, knowing very little about things that the majority of humanity take for granted, like maps and grammatical punctuation. Brecht’s work can be seen as dry poetic legalese, that stagnates the environment around its characters. But then gradually, the dialogue becomes more free-flowing, the sentences much looser in pronunciation and the cries much more melodic, rather than pent up and the colors even become a little brighter. As you see the characters evolve, so do their surroundings.

One of the drawbacks about a film’s ensemble is that there are no truly standout performances, but rather little standout scenes. The cast spans from veterans like Judith Ivey, Frances McDormand and Sheila McCarthy to the newer crop of actresses like Claire Foy, Rooney Mara and Jessie Buckley. All of them are equally amazing and do their own acting exercises which illuminates the drama. Ivey is the one that has the most heart tugging scenes. Being the eldest of the group, her character Agata knows only the few acres of land as her world, but its her strength that makes her see beyond familiarity. Foy’s Salome is another character whose hurt and injury is all over her face and voice. Buckley’s Mariche is probably the most delicate of the women, precious like a porcelain doll, but fragile like cracked glass. The problem is, not enough time is given to really let us know these women individually, as opposed to as the collective that are presented as. That is not the fault of the screenplay, but the plot’s setting and circumstances. That being said, I would have liked to at least see one or two characters up close as a sample of what life in the colony was like instead of brief flashbacks that give off a superficial experience.

After tonight’s Oscar ceremony, whether or not Sarah Polley wins the Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay, she will be a major player in Hollywood and I hope she takes advantage of it well. “Women Talking” may not be perfect, but it’s the calling card for a fruitful career that I hope will be rich in future masterpieces.

8/10

HOHO💖THANK YOU 💘 I was thinking one very Angst with Gojo, like.. He realizes he loves his best friend, but when he confesses they heavily reject him saying they could never trust him that way due to his womanizer self(?) and bc they love nanami,, like,, when they see him they're like 🎇💘MMHH YES, I feel awful but I love seeing gojo in pain for somewhat reason

Im so sorry😂🙏 if you don't want to write this, it's okay👌😌 thank you dear💖

too late

a/n: my past like 4 gojo asks have all been about him being a whore,,, y’all love to slander this man and see him in pain (me too)

synopsis: gojo loves you, you love nanami, things are messy 

t/w: angst, gojo is very sad

w/c: 1.4k

you’ve been gojo satoru’s best friend for as long as you can remember — two brainless jujutsu sorcerers who could never take anything seriously. the two of you together were simultaneously the biggest annoyance and also quite a force to be reckoned with. your abilities were no where near those of satoru, but you complimented him perfectly and no one stood a chance if the two of you were together — and you were always together.

in fact you were together right now, grabbing some food after effortlessly taking out some curses a few cities over. satoru enjoyed the sweeter things in life, downing a package of powdered-coated dough balls while you stuck to your savory bowl of spicy rice cakes. this was tradition for the two of you, sitting on a random bench somewhere in a random city munching on snacks and debriefing on the mission you’d just completed.

you loved it, and you loved satoru — like a brother, like a best friend, like a favorite teammate. you loved satoru but not in the way he loved you.

it was a recent realization, that he loved you in a romantic kind of way. he’d always just seen you as his best friend, but recently your eyes have sparkled a little more, your skin glowed a little brighter, and your voice sounded a little smoother when it flowed into his ears. it was right now, while he watched your sauce-covered lips suck down another rice cake, that he realized he wanted nothing more than to kiss you — right here and right in front of everyone. 

the only problem was, he had quite the history of being a womanizer. satoru went through women as if they were a one-time-use disposable product, and you were very aware of this. but none of those women were you, and he promised himself that he’d give you everything you deserved when he finally confessed. 

“can i have one?” you pointed to his near empty package of sweets and shook him out of his thoughts.

satoru wasn’t much for sharing, especially his desserts, but you were an exception. he plucked out a powdery ball (one that he knew was your favorite flavor) and popped it into your mouth. him hand-feeding you should have been weird, but you’ve been friends for so long that you didn’t think twice about it. you bit the sticky dough down between your teeth, a cheesy smile stretching across your face when you noticed he got your flavor right. 

“th-aanks,” you mumbled, mouth stuffed full of sugary confection. 

in the midst of your chewing, you felt a napkin swipe across your mouth to remove the excess powdered sugar. you eyed satoru suspiciously, starting to catch on to how overly-touchy he was being today. but he just shrugged, making snarky comments about how messy of an eater you were.

it wasn’t until the two of you finished your snacks and were walking through the city that you finally questioned him. he’d wrapped his arm through yours, pulling you close so you were walking right next to his side — his weirdly intimate actions today were starting to stack up. 

“what are you doing?” you peered up at him, giving your arm a small yank as you attempted (and failed) to put some space between the two of you. 

“that guy over there was checking you out,” he shamelessly pointed to a dark-haired man further up the street, his voice defensive. 

“okay, and? that bothers you-?” you yanked again, finally pulling your arm free of his embrace.

“no, but he looks like a weirdo, you deserve someone better than that,” he insisted, an evil grin on his face as he turned his pointer finger so it was facing himself. 

“like me!”

“oh, like nanami” 

your voices came out at the exact same time, but the content of your words could not have been more different. 

“nanami!?”

“you!?”

the two of you froze in the middle of the street, faces covered in equal amounts of shock and confusion. satoru had finally confessed his feelings to, and you’d just accidentally and unintentionally shut him down with one word — nanami.

“nanami?” he repeated again, an edge to his voice as he tried to protect his ego and mask his jealousy. 

“yeah, i- uh, i planned to tell you soon that we’ve been seeing each other recently. i had no idea that you-” you scrambled to explain the situation, trying not to let the hurt on your friend’s face get to you, “you’re with other women all the time satoru, how was i supposed to know?”

he winced at the unintentional insult, his history with women weighing heavy on his shoulders as he realized it was a prominent factor in your rejection. 

“ah - it’s fine! nanami beat me to it i guess. i’m happy for you guys,” he attempted a genuine smile, and anyone else may have been fooled by it too, but you knew him better than to fall for his shitty façade. 

you noticed the tiniest twitch of his eyebrow, and the smallest quiver of his lip as he continued to hide and protect his true feelings. it broke your heart in half, having to watch him put on a show like this. 

“i’m sorry,” you let the apology spill from your lips a few times, but he was very quick to remind you that none of this was your fault. 

“we’ll still be friends, right? i don’t know what i’d do without you,” you gave him a somber look, imagining a future without him by your side. 

satoru and nanami were good friends as well, and you’d never forgive yourself if this tore their friendship apart. 

“of course,” he gave you a cheeky smile and then continued walking down the street with a quick wave of his hand, instructing you to follow him. 

you jogged a couple steps to catch up to him, and he immediately started making jokes about a weird-looking man who was selling street food to your left. in a matter of seconds he was back to his typical self — so much so that it seemed as if your conversation had never happened. 

and that's exactly how satoru tried to imagine his life — as if that conversation had never occurred. he knew how important he was to you, but he also saw the way you looked an nanami with stars in your eyes. he knew that you needed them both, and so he stayed and watched you fall in love with someone who wasn’t him. 

whenever you asked, he told you that it had been a weird one-time thing and that he didn’t feel that way towards you anymore. he’d listen to your stories about the ex-business man and force smiles and laughter to make you happy. because that was all he ever wanted, for you to be happy, and if that meant you had to be with someone else, so be it. 

you and satoru were one in the same, so incredibly alike that maybe you would never have worked out anyway. you were raging with energy, energy that satoru only fueled stronger — where as nanami was gentle, peaceful, the opposite of you and your silver-haired counterpart. nanami cooled you down and and kept you centered, and that was what you needed, but it was something satoru would never have been able to give you. 

so when years had gone by and nanami asked him to be the best man at your wedding, he was crippled. he knew how important it was to you but he could hardly stand the thought of watching you vow yourself to the blonde-man. but despite his feelings, he didn’t even hesitate to say yes. you’d be so disappointed if he hadn’t.

and so he threw on his mask one last time, standing tall in a sleek, black suit as he watch you spill your feelings to nanami in a beautiful vow. you looked perfect, so stunning, and it tore him up that he wasn’t the one standing across from you. 

but he laughed and smiled all night, because that’s who he was. gojo satoru was always expected to be the life the party, and it was a heavy burden to carry. he was so tired of keeping up an act for you and for everyone else; all he wanted was to bury his head into your neck and rest. but he’d never have that, he’d never have you, and tonight made it official. 

C/O Berlin Magazine | It’s a space for everyone, and everyone can come in — Thoughts for the future

“I cringe when I hear words like ‘diversity’ and ‘inclusion.” To quote the civil rights activist, philosopher, and writer Angela Davis, “diversity” and “inclusion” are terms that you, dear reader, might have also stumbled across in recent months, whether you wanted to or not. Inspired by global Black Lives Matter protests, mainstream media, corporations, and other institutions finally realized – in some cases as it seems overnight – that racism is also an intractable problem in Germany. Unfortunately, we need more than just hollow words and empty promises to solve this problem. You might be thinking to yourself: “But didn’t people take to the streets or write opinion pieces in newspapers to protest structural racism? And didn’t major institutions promise to offer diversity and inclusion workshops in discussion after discussion on television?” Perhaps, but don’t be fooled. Instead of critically questioning the role that white decision-makers play in perpetuating systemic racism, “society” was blamed. Over and over again, Black* people were asked to answer if they had really experienced racism through scrutiny of their real-life stories, while predominantly white “experts” were invited onto talk shows to discuss the so-called “racism debate”. Profound, structural changes are still lacking, at least as of the time this text goes to print. 

Presence equals power. This brings us to the current moment where you are reading these words about British photographer Nadine Ijewere’s solo show at C/O Berlin. Nadine Ijewere is the first Black woman to be given a space that has previously been occupied almost exclusively by white men. As such, this exhibition is significant not only for Black photographers, but for everyone more used to being treated as the object than the artist or curator in spaces like this where many people don’t feel welcome or simply don’t exist. As trivial as it may sound, visibility comes from being able to hang pictures on a wall—or write these lines.

Joy as an act of resistance. Nadine Ijewere belongs to a generation of artists and creatives who have realized that there are more options than simply following the traditional path. Knowing that society has long since changed—even if many gatekeepers in fashion, art, and the media still cling to the status quo—this DIY generation is creating its own platforms to elevate their own role models with an army of loyal followers. In their work, representatives of this generation create worlds that rarely center Eurocentric beauty norms. The same goes for this young British artist, whose work shows people in all their beauty and uniqueness. Her photographs regularly appear on the pages of British, American and Italian Vogue, i-D, or Garage, and she has collaborated with brands such as Nina Ricci and Stella McCartney. Ijewere proves that beauty is multifaceted and that fashion is fun and for everyone. 

More than a seat at the table. When artists like Ijewere make it to the top, it’s not because of nepotism, tokenism, or diversity as a trend, but despite all the obstacles that have been put in their way. And instead of assimilating after being accepted by the old guard, they continue to write their own rules. In Ijewere’s case, this means not only working with diverse models and teams, but also passing her knowledge on as a mentor to keep the proverbial door open. She’s less driven by the desire to stand out from the mainstream than she is to give back by inspiring younger generations, who are able to see themselves in magazines. “Within the time I have, I’ll use every opportunity I get and every space I can get into to expand the horizon of others.”

Representation matters. Celebrating Black people and people of color in a traditionally white space was also the goal of “Visibility is key – #RepresentationMatters,” a watershed moment for the German lifestyle magazine industry when it launched on vogue.de in spring 2019. The goal was to take first steps toward a forward-thinking future where inclusion and diversity would no longer be mere buzzwords, but lived practices. Part of that effort meant ensuring representation in front of as well as behind the camera. The results weren’t perfect and they might not have led to social change, but we proved that there isn’t a lack of creative talent among Black and Brown people in Germany. If anything, we proved that these talents are often denied the space to develop their full potential. 

Ideas for the future. As you see, dear reader, it takes teamwork to bring about long-term change, and for the first time the doors are open a bit. Nadine Ijewere's exhibition shows this, as does being able to write these very words in the C/O Berlin Newspaper. In the statements below, we asked German and international artists and creatives to envision a future where representation and inclusion are lived practices instead of rare exceptions. The results are ideas for a future that is reachable—as long as we all keep working towards it every day. Together.

Nadine Ijewere, artist Art is about art. It’s not about you personally. That’s why artists need to be seen as artists. We all get stereotyped and put into the same box—but we have our own identity. We are put into the same space just because we are Black, but we are all very different people.

Edward Enninful, OBE, Editor-in-Chief of British Vogue Nadine is one of the leading fashion photographers of her generation. She’s not only inherently British in her work, she’s also Black British. She really understands the complex mix of culture, fashion, beauty, and the inner working of a woman, so when you see her images, it’s never just a photograph. There’s also a story and a narrative behind it.

Benjamin Alexander Huseby & Serhat Işık, designers for the label GmbH Our work has always been about wanting to show our community and culture to tell our stories as authentically as we can. It was never about “diversity”, but about being seen. We want to create a world where not only exceptional Black and Brown talents no longer have to be truly exceptional to get recognition for their work, a world where we no longer are the only non-white person in the room because we built the motherfucking house ourselves.

Mohamed Amjahid, freelance journalist and author, whose book Der weiße Fleck will be published by Piper Verlag on March 1, 2021. It's time that Black women become bosses. Gay Arabs should get to call the shots. Refugees belong on the executive boards of big corporations. Children of so-called “guest workers” should move into management positions too. People with disabilities should not just have a say, they should make the decisions. Vulnerable groups deserve to put their talents and ideas to work in the service of the whole society. Not every person of color is automatically a good leader by virtue of their background, but all-white, cis-male executive boards are certainly incapable of making decisions that are right for everyone. That’s why we need more representation at the very top, where the decisions are made.

Melisa Karakuş, founder of renk., the first German-Turkish magazine For a better future, I demand that we educate our children to be anti-racist and to resist when others or when they themselves are subjected to racism. I demand that discrimination is understood through the lens of intersectionality and solidarity! I demand that even those who are not affected by racism stand up against it! This fight is not one that we as Black people and people of color fight alone—for a better future, we all have to work together. 

Tarik Tesfu, host of shows including the NDR talk show deep und deutlich When I look in the mirror, I see someone who grew up in the Ruhr region and loves currywurst with French fries as much as Whitney Houston. I see a person who has his pros and cons and who is so much more than his skin color. I see a subject. But the German media and cultural system seem to see it differently because far too often, Black people are degraded and made into objects for the reproduction of racist bullshit. I'm tired of explaining racism to Annette and Thomas because I really have better things to do (for example, my job). So get out of my light and let me shine.

Ronan Mckenzie, photographer The future of our industry needs to be one with more consideration for those that are within it. One that isn’t shrouded in burnout and the stresses of late payments, and one that doesn’t make anyone question whether they have been booked for the quality of their work or to be tokenized for the color of their skin. The future of our industry needs to go beyond the performative Instagram posts and mean-nothing awards, to truly sharing resources and lifting up one another. Our industry needs to put its money where its mouth is when words like “support”, “community” or “diversity” slip out, instead of using buzzwords that create an illusion of championing us. How there can be so much money in this industry yet so many struggle to keep up with their rent, feed themselves, or just rest without worrying about money is truly a travesty. If this industry is to survive then we who make it what it is need to be able to thrive.

Ferda Ataman, journalist and chair of Neue deutsche Medienmacher*innen A recent survey of the country's most important editors-in-chief revealed that many of them think diversity is good, but they don't want to do anything about it. This is based on the assumption that everyone good will succeed. Unfortunately, that’s not true. It’s not just a person’s qualifications that are decisive, but other criteria as well, such as similarity and habit (“XY fits in with us”). It's high time that all of us—everywhere—demand a serious commitment to openness and diversity. Something is seriously wrong in pure white spaces that can’t be explained by people’s professional qualifications alone. Or to put it differently: a good diversity strategy always has an anti-racist effect.

Nana Addison, founder of CURL CON and CURL Agency Being sustainable and inclusive means thinking about all skin tones, all hair textures, and all body shapes—in the beauty industry, in marketing communications, as well as in the media landscape. These three industries work hand in hand in shaping people’s perceptions of themselves and others. It’s important to take responsibility and be proactive and progressive to ensure inclusivity.

Dogukan Nesanir, stylist  The current system is not designed to help minorities. By giving advantages to certain people and groups, it automatically deprives others of the chance to attain certain positions in the first place. That's why I don't even ask myself the question "What if?" anymore. My work is not about advancing a fake worldview, but about highlighting all the real in the good and the bad. I strongly believe that if some powerful gatekeepers gave in, if representation and diversity happened behind the scenes and we had the chance to show what the world REALLY looks like, we wouldn't be having these discussions at all. I don't just want an invitation to the table, I want to own the table and change things.

Arpana Aischa Berndt & Raquel Dukpa, editors of the catalog I See You – Thoughts on the Film “Futur drei” In the German film and television industry, production teams and casting directors are increasingly looking for a “diverse” cast. Casting calls are almost exclusively formulated by white people who profit from telling stories of people of color and Black people by using them, but without changing their own structures in the process. Application requirements and selection processes in film schools even shut out marginalized people by denying them the opportunities that come with being in these institutions. People of color and migrants as well as Black, indigenous, Jewish, queer, and disabled people can all tell stories, too. Production companies need to understand that expertise doesn’t necessarily come with a film degree.

Vanessa Vu & Minh Thu Tran, hosts of the podcast Rice and Shine  It may be convenient to ignore entire groups, but we are and have been so much more for a very long time. We contribute to culture by making films or plays and bring new perspectives to science, politics, and journalism. We’re Olympic athletes, curators, artists, singers, dancers, and inventors. We dazzle and shine despite not always being seen. Because we have each other and we’ve created opportunities to do the things we love. We’ve created platforms for each other and built communities. Slowly but surely we are finally getting applause and recognition for the fact that we exist. That's nice. But what we really need is not just the opportunity to exist, but the opportunity to continue to grow and to stop basing our work primarily on self-exploitation. We need security, reliability, and money. That's the hard currency of recognition. That would mean being truly seen.

*Black is a political self-designation and is capitalized to indicate that being Black is about connectedness due to shared experiences of racism.

Written by: Alexandra Bondi de Antoni & Kemi Fatoba C/O Berlin Magazine April 2021

JK Rowling, transphobia and a hopefully helpful post.

A few days ago I posted on my Facebook (yes I have one sue me) debunking some of the things Rowling has been saying on twitter. Since she made a statement I felt the need to make another one... but this time Im sharing it here. Please note this is long, it is fairly opinionated in places but her statements have felt so insidious I want to share something in depth. If you are cis I implore you to read, but I understand this is long and a lot of people wont want to. No judgement. 

Jk Rowling’s latest statement is a mess of valid concerns and fear mongering. At this point there can be no claim she doesn’t know what shes talking about - she herself has said shes been researching this for years. She throws in token acknowledgements to “real” trans people while framing the rest of her statements as concern for confused teens.So first things first - and something that might not be popular with some of my trans friends. I agree that teenagers should not be able to medically transition. It is a choice that should be made when the brain is fully mature. Hormone blockers are something I trust - and that are reversible. I have seen enough detransitioned people hurting to feel like we do need to be careful - especially with children who are trying to find themselves. I dont know about other people but during my teens I was coming to the crushing realisation that I wasn’t special. I was learning that no matter how well I painted someone else did it better, no matter how badly I hurt someone had it worse - I was learning about the wonderful mediocrity of life, and having anything that made me stand out gave a brief reprieve from learning to be okay with all these things. For me to be fair it was dying my hair outrageous colours and dressing in black leather during 30 degree summer heat - but its still something we cant forget. I KNOW a lot of kids claiming to be trans are - and I dont want to keep that from them, however I dont want to cause harm to the kids that are wrong. Continuing on, I’d like to address her comments about TERFS. Terfs are Self Described Trans-exclusionary-radical-feminists and the term does get thrown around a little too liberally at times. Terf is not and never will be a slur. No more than “White” is. It is about a group of people who have taken it open themselves to segregate another group - and calling that what it is, is not a crime. The reason Terf and transphobe have become synonomic is because the ‘radical feminists’ that subscribe to this have lost focus on nearly all other issues of feminism and sit squarely on “dropping the T” from the lgbt community and “keeping men out of womens bathrooms.” Terfs are overwhelmingly women - this is sadly simply a fact. Terfs are reviled because of how much it feels like a betrayal to the community. A group that fights for rights - except ours. A group that wants equality - except for us. Its different to the conservatives who hate us all equally - with Terfs we are singled out. Terfs are not, as Rowling claims, inclusionary to Trans-men. I’ve been met with a combination of pity, loathing, mockery and revulsion by people within this group. I’ve been told that I shouldn’t let homophobia push me into transitioning - only for all correspondence to abruptly drop when I mention Im marrying another man. I’ve been told my old body was beautiful - only for stunned silence when I agree. I was beautiful - I was curvy, I was a dancer and had a body to match - but I wasn’t Me. When their usual arguments against me fail - I’m met with hate. Im called anti-woman, traitor, homophobic. I even have some such comments saved on my blog. I have yet to meet a Terf who was pro-trans-man. Rowling claims that had she had the ability, as a confused teen, she may have sought to transition. I hate to tell her but she did have the ability and trans people didn’t pop into existence in the twenty-first century. I’m actually looking to do my dissertation topic in my final year on lgbt presentation throughout history - and in my overeager way I’ve already started researching. James Barry has been becoming a common name for years - a transgender surgeon who died in 1865. If Barry was able to at least socially transition from 1790 to 1860, I am fairly sure Rowling could have in 1980 - over a century later. Rowling also claims that groups of friends in schools all suddenly identify as trans at the same time. Speaking from my school experience - the queer kids group together. We seek out others like us, and we take strength from each others bravery to come out - often around the same time. We almost get a rush of resolve when one of our group musters the courage and strength, and some of us use that rush to bite the bullet ourselves. Its one of the beautiful ways the lgbt community is here for one another - and the influx of people identifying as trans is partially a factor of more people knowing the name of their feelings. Survivor bias will ignore the trans people through history without the knowledge or means to transition - and will claim they were never trans at all. Her initial statements about charities worry me in particular. As I said last time - we know sex is real, we just dont really like to be defined by it. She is worried that we’re going to “rebrand medicine” and ignores that medications for years have had warnings in their leaflets about “If you are or become pregnant” regardless of if the person receiving it has a dick or a vagina. We dont advocate for ignoring the differences in how people respond to heart attacks - and I for one would like research to be done on how hormones effect that. I dont actually know if I would respond more like a cis gender woman or a cis gender man if I were to have a heart attack or a stroke. But where possible we do want to change the language around some of these things. I have had a double mastectomy, but some Cis-men have these as well. This is not a gendered term. Why should a period be called anything else? Why call it a “womens problem.” I and Im sure many other trans people, support the research into how different medical and mental issues affect different sexes. I just think that should be extended further - and we know it should, as some medical issues affect people of different ethnicities in different ways and we don’t know how. I am truly sorry that Rowling has experienced abuse and assault of any nature. I am truly sorry that she has felt unsafe. But her feelings do not invalidate others experiences. Of the trans people I know, a saddening number have been assaulted, have been abused and in particular have experienced these things domestically. There is much work to be done on this in the UK. There are nearly no mens shelters for sufferers of violence to my knowledge. I, a trans man who have experienced some of these things in my teen years, would Not want to be around cisgender women even if I could be. A cis woman was responsible for much of the pain I personally suffered - and in fact one of the acts of violence she carried out against me was directly after I came out as trans to her. Trans women, even if they could go to male shelters, should not have to be surrounded by a group that put them in danger - in a place that is detrimental to them physically and mentally and is frankly degrading. The belief that allowing trans women into shelters for those escaping abuse is dangerous is sad. To be so afraid is deserving of pity. To let fear blind you to the suffering of others - to think its better that a trans woman face homelessness or a return to an abusive household because you personally would sleep better at night is the kind of passive evil we should be aware of in this day and age. It comes from choosing to see the word “trans” before “person.” Its from choosing to see a persons genitals before their humanity. Trans people are not dangerous - and cause no greater risk than any other demographic.  Her claims that she can empathise with this fear are empty. A gender recognition certificate is not a ticket into womens bathrooms. Funnily enough you dont actually require a piece of paper to go almost anywhere. I do not have a gender recognition certificate and use male bathrooms, can enter male spaces as I please. All a gender recognition certificate does is change the letter on your birth certificate. It doesn’t even affect other forms of identification - my passport, my student id, my drivers license all already say male. I am not sure why so many people have chosen this as their hill to die on because its the least relevant thing to them on the planet. How often have any of you seen another persons birth certificate? Rowling says she and other ‘gender critical’ (a terf dogwhistle) people are concerned for trans youth. Well… she can take her condescending concern and direct it to matters that are relevant to her. Trans people want to be left alone. Its a simple request, and yet people endlessly seem to trip over the dirt level bar.

Glee Live Tour Part 4 - The ShirtGate Essay Dianna published to the felldowntherabbithole Tumblr

Inserting a cut because this thing is long

or skip Dianna’s gay panic and click here to keep reading the masterpost!

June 2, 2000

What does that day, month and year mean to you? President Bill Clinton used that particular day to declare ”Gay and Lesbian Pride Month”. Nine years later, on June 1st, President Barack Obama spoke to incorporate an even wider group. Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgendered citizens alike could all have this month for recognition, respect and appreciation. However, I am aware that not all minds meet equally about the rights and respect that we should pay to others. As each generation leaves their footprints, and paves the way for what is to come…to some, change is an impossible idea or action to put in motion.

You know what? Often, this unfortunate reality is because of learned behavior! As much as we may often preach that we like to speak for ourselves, or outside the box, how many times have you caught yourself, or someone you know repeating the thoughts of another before them? Sometimes without proper information? And how many times have you felt that perhaps further knowledge on an issue or subject matter might result in a different voice, a different understanding? Perhaps even going against the ideas they’ve learned, heard, or grown up around? We have the ability to fly planes, send astronauts into space, develop technology such as cellphones! Things that once were unfathomable. I can sit at this small computer and type this message. Once I push send, this message can be seen by anyone who’d like to engage, all across the WORLD.

As many of you know, we (the Glee cast) have been storming the country at whirlwind speeds to put on a forty-two show, month-long tour. It has been a constant reminder of why we do this. We’ve witnessed the impact our show has had, from the very beginning, to these moments, three years later. You LOVELY & AMAZING fans! Just indescribable. The love, affirmation, and dedication you provide! We see it all, value it all. Trust me, we do! On stage, the excitement that we absorb from your ball of energy brings our adrenaline levels to highs that often-times, we aren’t sure we can reach. Bottom line, we love you guys. And our crew! Without this diverse group of hard-working people, this venture would be impossible.

Yesterday was June 11th, and we were tackling our newest location, Toronto! We had finished our first concert of the day, and I was about to take a moment to relax before the second. On the way to our dressing rooms, I passed a stack of shirts lined up on the merchandise tables. The white T’s were modeled after shirts we wore in a performance set to Lady Gaga’s, “Born This Way.” This sparked an idea. And that idea ended up on stage.

Kindness moves mountains. Acceptance opens doors, makes room for change, diffuses misunderstanding. Every day, people commit hate crimes because of misunderstandings. Hate effects the target, and consumes the person behind the gun. It is crazy to realize that we have been in war for almost our entire existence on this planet. Many times for reasons of greed and hate.

Anyone that has experienced the death or abuse of a loved one can tell you that, “IT HURTS BEYOND EXPLANATION!!! AND WE SHOULD DO EVERYTHING IN OUR POWER TO MAKE ANY CHANGE POSSIBLE.” Raise your hand if you’ve spent nights crying yourself to sleep, raise your hand if you’ve felt as if you’d rather hide in bed all day than face the people that make you feel small or powerless! Raise your hand if you’ve felt as if you’d rather lie to people than tell them the truth about who you really are, because at least you wouldn’t be the victim of hateful behavior or prejudice! And raise your hand if lying feels almost as bad.

I was not raised in a family that accepted prejudice or hatred. For that, I thank my Mom and Dad each and every day. Look, we are human, we make mistakes. I will gladly shout from the rooftops that I AM NOT PERFECT. Nor will I ever be. But I can happily say that to my knowledge, I do not ever intentionally cause people pain. I love my family, my friends, my co-workers…and they all consist of girls AND boys. I do tell them that I love them. Yesterday, during our second show,  Instead of wearing my usual shirt during “Born This Way” I decided to wear one that said “Likes Girls”. It should actually have read, “Loves Girls”, because I do. The women in my life give me things that the men in my life can’t. And vice-versa. No, I am not a lesbian, yet if I were, I hope that the people in my life could embrace it whole-heartedly. And let me tell you, I can easily spill (quite comfortably) what I admire, respect and think is beautiful about any of the women in my life. Piece of cake!

Last night, I wanted to do something  to show my respect and love for the GLBT community. Support that people could actually see. Which is why I decided to change my shirt for the show. I happened to read a few comments that were posted on twitter. Many of you asked, “why?” This is my response. I am not asking for you to agree with what I am saying, but if you are listening, thank you. That is all I can ask. And a step further would be to take a moment to (honestly) answer the questions that I have raised. We can’t always put ourselves in someone else’s shoes. But we can try.

I am lucky to live in a place where I can wear almost anything that I want to express myself, and that jail is not a probable consequence. Which makes me feel as if I should exercise my right to do so every now and then. Think of the people that have died because of their passion and heartfelt hopes of change? So many good men and women. All because of an inherent wish for tolerance, love and support.

Our show celebrates the GLBT community. We are proud to be a part of something that embraces an often avoided topic. Hate is terrible, especially when we pass it down to a new generation of innocents. Recently, I heard a lament about San Francisco. How SFO just didn’t sound like a fun place to be, or visit, because that person wasn’t gay. Wait, really???? I wanted to laugh! But that would have been a response that wouldn’t have encouraged that person to be open-minded. To see that perhaps, their statement was foolish? Why won’t San Francisco be fun for you? Do you think the whole city is gay? Do you think they will judge you? Won’t feed you good food?  Perhaps they won’t let you have fun, the way THEY have fun?

Sadly, we’ve gotten letters from people who explain that they love the show but hate the gay story-lines. That we shouldn’t be polluting their children’s heads. To this I’d sometimes like to sarcastically reply, would you also like us to tell them that a stork is dropping off our offspring? That the sky is purple? That it is not practical to be true to yourself, because there are mean people in this world that will make them feel wrong for being honest? That instead of embracing themselves, they should lie to the world? THEY should be the ones being untrue and unhappy?

I believe that if you are bringing a child into the world, you should be willing to accept them in any reality. Whether they are Black, White, Asian, have four fingers, are disabled, gay….that the only wish should be for a happy and healthy baby. We are each other’s children. Unless someone has committed a violent or hateful act, why should we judge? We can so quickly resort to anger, often, the product of a whole other issue. Most often, an issue with our own self.

I understand that I am sitting behind the protection of this computer screen, in this hotel room, and to many I might sound “preachy”. Especially now that I have written an essay. I hope my intentions sound pure, and just. I speak, because I am passionate. I write with this passion because I know how it feels to be hurt, to be depressed, to not value yourself, or your feelings. If any of this has inspired or moved you, even just made you think….I encourage you to tweet or reblog a picture, quote, anything that you feel will continue to spread the love. And if any are interested in tracking the chain, perhaps visualizing the greater collective, include the hatch tag, #letlovein.

Affection is responsible for nine-tenths of whatever solid and durable happiness there is in our lives. - C.S. Lewis

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage. - Lao Tzu

Fortune and love favor the brave. - Ovid

AND remember that sometimes….

People need loving the most when they deserve it the least. - John Harrigan

To thine own heart be true. Many thanks for your time, your love, and the gift you’ve given me.

Sincerely,

Dianna Elise Agron

Click here to keep reading!

The Power Couple - hyung line

Pairing: hyung line member x reader

Wordcount: 1.2k words circa, each

Genre: romance scenarios/imagine

Rating: suggested 18+

Hello, my darlings, sorry I didn’t post last week but exam season is insane and I’m seriously struggling :(

Anyways, I’ve been working on these and I hope I’ll be able to write and post the maknae line during the next week. 

Did you enjoy Bang Bang Con The Live? I watched it with my ARMY squad and since we were still craving BTS material afterwards we did a 5th muster rewatch, YAY!

Okay, now TRIGGER WARNINGS: not much this week really, just mild allusions to smut, (a bit more descriptive in Yoongi’s piece), there are some more explicit thingies (ahem, collar, leash, generic mention on toys, stress relieving quickie) and milder but possibly sexy thingies (slightly revealing outfits), mild angst in Joon’s piece (namely minor harassment, nothing descriptive). Watch out for: one tense, insecure and lowkey (highkey) kinky Joon, one very soft Jin, one very tired, very whipped Min Suga and the usual energy fluff ball Hobi (also kinky, though)

I love you all, please stay safe <3

Here you can find the maknae line

And here you can find my masterlist

Namjoon

“You know we don’t have to do this.”

You offered him the string. “What if I want them all to know.”

"_____, I love you and I repeat, I will only do this if it's what you want. You have to give this to me. I won't take it from you. I seriously don't want to force this on you." He fixed his tie, loosening it a little. He was nervous. The car was slowly arriving to the venue. A couple more minutes and you would be out, photographers screaming for your attention, celebrities surrounding you, women envying you, men wanting you. It wasn't the first time you attended a red carpet as Namjoon's plus one, but the previous attempt had peaked with a cocky rapper putting his eyes on you, flirting inappropriately while Joon was busy and making you deeply uncomfortable. As a consequence, Joon had kept you close for the rest of the night and had to give up on having you beside him for a couple events after that, since you didn't feel safe enough to attend.

However, this afternoon he had come to your room with a hefty velvet box, looking at you with complete rapture in his eyes.

“You look like a dream come true.”

“I hope it’s a good dream,” you replied, waiting for the stylist to finish fixing your hair in a classy bun.

“A very good one.”

You were wearing matching suits. Regular, black silk suits, tailored exactly the same, the only difference was the fact that you weren’t wearing any shirt underneath your jacket.

“Thank you.”

“I have something for you.” He came closer, the stylist done with your hair, bowing kindly as you made a small bow to her in reply, thanking her for her work.

“I thought we said no jewellery.”

“Well, technically…” He opened the box, showing you a collar of diamonds. “You don’t have to.” He said sheepishly. “Wear it, I mean. And I don’t want people to think that I consider you an animal that needs to be collared, or a possession. I saw it and I thought you would love it.”

“Yes. I love it.” You touched it gently with your fingertip. “I’ll wear it.”

He smiled so brightly that you knew all the negative comments would never cast a shadow on the overwhelming joy he was showing in this moment: you would do unspeakable things to make him smile at you like that.

“Can I put it on you?”

“Yes, sir.” It was half a tease, half an admission of his dominance over you. In the secret language you had created together this meant that you trust him and that you allow him to take complete control over you, that he is entitled to do whatever he wants with you. It was also a way to reassure yourself that he would protect you tonight, that he wouldn’t leave your side and that he would take care of you. That no man would ever lay his eyes and hands on you tonight.

He clasped it easily around your neck, the measure just right, and you suspected he knew because of the way he uses his hands on your neck, randomly, sometimes to soothe you and support you, some others to arouse you and gain his own pleasure.

The tension on your shoulders eased a little as you saw your reflection in the mirror. There was no doubt you belonged to him, that you were his. Still, some anxiety snaked in your belly.

“I don’t really wanna push my luck,” he said, looking down, breaking eye contact, “but I had a small thing made to match the… necklace.”

You looked at him curiously. “Can I see?”

“I know you won’t judge me but I feel very vulnerable about this and I thought we should talk it out before you…”

“I love you.” You whispered, calming his gibbering. “Show me.”

He lifted the board where the necklace laid, showing another compartment of the box were a snaky string laid, all coiled up. You took it and unwrapped it.

A leash.

He looked at you. “You don’t have to say yes, we can use it another time, or not use it at all.”

It means guidance, belonging, discipline. All things you needed tonight.

“Yes.” You told him, confidence sparking in your eyes.

That night, when you walked down the red carpet you felt nothing but the cold sensation of the metal around your neck, and the scorching pride in Namjoon’s eyes.

Journalists asked questions, people took pictures, but the only thing that mattered was what you felt: you were Namjoon’s equal, with your identical suits, and at the same time you were his beloved pet, someone he would cherish, guide, defend and protect.

Seokjin

“Ready?”

“Yup.” Seokjin smiled a tight lipped smile and wrapped an arm around your waist.

“God, they won’t take their eyes off of you.”

Tonight you were supposed to attend a film premiere of one of Jin’s friends. It got you slightly uncomfortable, since it was your first official event with him as a couple. Of course ARMY had already seen you a few times since the official announcement of your relationship, once at the airport, as you came back from a quick getaway you and Jin had taken, then then in a bunch of pictures, and then during a vlive, when you had taken a small visit to say hi and introduce yourself, letting Jin lead you through the whole event and giving you the cue when he thought he needed some alone time with his fans. He had been very tactful in the whole revealing, hiding you enough to protect you from harmful stalkers, but also introducing you to ARMY like a single dad would present his girlfriend to his child.  

“Is the dress inappropriate?”

“No. You’re stunning. I love it.” He pressed his nose to your temple. “I’m just worried.”

You leaned softly into him.

“There’s so much skin here...” He let one finger slide down the curve of your neck. “Everyone will be looking.” He kissed behind your ear. “You could wear a rubbish bag and they would still be looking.” He wished he had more skin to touch, but he was also grateful your body was pretty much covered up, the delicate green dress exposing nothing but your collarbones, with long chiffon sleeves, the corset decorated with a leaf embroidery, stopping just above your waist and then flowing down in lush emerald waves.

“I’m glad I wore my white suit.” He commented,

“You look incredible, love.” You complimented him.

“I needed to show them I deserve you.”

You laughed. “I’m the one who needs to one-up her game to match you.”

The back of the limo was quiet as you created that special space of communion and comfort you naturally slip in when you’re both silent.

“You’ll be by my side all night, right?” You murmured, worried. “There’s a lot of people and I feel like such an outsider...”

“Right beside you.” He comforted you. “So they can’t snatch you from me.”

You both giggled, his voice betraying his anxiety. “It will take a major calamity to get me away from you.”

“Like a very big magnet.” You frowned. “You know, attraction.” Your frown intensified. “They say I’m magnetic. the only way to beat me would be a really big magnet.”

Your mouth stretched in a tight lipped smile, hoping not to show how much you loved his unusual sense of humour.

“Are you nervous?” You asked him.

“It’s been a long week. I was hoping we could just stay in and chill. Instead we’ll have to go through all of this while I’m tired and tense. I really don’t feel like being among people tonight.” He sighed. “My social energies have reached a new minimum.”

“We can be pretty and silent, hide in the background.” You held his hand and kissed it, careful not to smear lipstick on it.

“I doubt they’ll let us. It’s your first public presence.”

“They’ve seen me on your vlives, on pictures.”

“They’ll want to see you live, up close, see how you interact.” He twisted his wrist to intertwine his fingers with yours.

“Then let them watch. We’ll casually brush them off. ARMY know you, and they will get to know me with time, no need to reveal our whole life to journalists. Plus, it’s not like we’re the main event of the night.”

“As if, darling. They’ve been waiting for this for so long they’ll be like vultures. I wish I could protect you.”

“It’s good, love. We’ll have each other’s back. We just need a secret code to say when to run and hide in the closest broom closet.”

He laughed. “Usually Namjoon is so good, you know, he’s an extrovert, he takes care of all the press and journalists so well.”

“It must be reassuring.”

“He does all the talking, J-Hope drowns them in pretty smiles and positive energy, and Jimin gets flirty and cute, and that’s all it takes. I can stand on the side, jump in when I’m more comfortable. They ease the anxiety a lot.”

“I’ll learn from them. I’ll have them teach me so I can help you," You stated reassuringly.

“Just hold my hand.”

You reached the venue and exited the limo, suddenly immersed in the flashing lights of cameras, Jin extending his hand to you, helping you out of the car. He kept his palm against yours, “I got you.” He whispered in your ear, then smiling brightly at you and inviting you to walk forward, indicating you the red carpet with his free arm, bowing slightly with perfect manners. He charmed you all over in that second.

“Follow the stewards’ lead. They’ll tell you when to stop, when to walk, where to look.” You started strolling comfortably, close to each other. “If you wanna run, just squeeze my hand three times and I’ll carry you to the closest broom closet.”

You smiled at each other. The sounds of camera shutters multiplied infinitely. Not that you really noticed. You were too caught up in your man’s smile. As you promised, you grabbed his hand and never let go.

Yoongi

“How did it go?”

“The interview?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re gonna hate it.” He plopped on the sofa.

“Was it that bad?”

“They kept asking questions about you.”

“Like?”

“Saying my new music really reflected how you brightened my life or something.”

You laughed and sat beside him, passing him a cold beer, your own drink in hand. “They really love the whole ‘love redeems you’ anthem. They can’t stand the idea of self growth and acceptance.”

“It kinda looks like the beauty saving the beast, because of AgustD being a bad boy who met love and found the right path.”

“So dumb.” You clinked your bottles. “Still, congrats for finally finishing AgustD promotion.”

“Yeah, but this means that next week I’ll be in Los Angeles. I need to meet a singer for a collab.”

You huffed. Being his girlfriend is not easy. It’s a matter of carefully planning your schedules, continuously living with two different clocks on your phones set in different time zones, sometimes even wearing two watches at the same time, one at your wrist, the other a nice pocket watch that he had gifted you for your first anniversary, so that you could always “have his time”, as he said.

“Well, then we’ll have to make the best of this weekend.” You nudged him with your elbow. He smiled at you knowingly then took a sip. He zapped through some tv programmes, finally settling on the news. Right in that moment a small clip of the two of you came up, something about his album sales or the fact that he donated a percentage to a school that you had visited together a while ago for a project.

“God, you look amazing, babe.” He licked his lips and stared at you smiling wide at the cameras. They went on discussing your relationship, which to the public was quite new, even though the announcement had come shortly after your two year anniversary, that is about a couple months ago.

“That’s cause you make me look radiant.” You took a sip yourself.

“Really, look at that!” They showed a short footage of your first public appearance, at his side during a music award. “Beautiful.”

You smiled mischievously, brushing his knee.

“You remember that night?” He said. That’s exactly what you were expecting.

“Of course. How could I forget it? You left one-month-long reminders.” You remembered how you had to postpone your regular medical checkups because of the bruises he had left around.

“You were so good.” He praised, his eyes half glazed over, caught in a memory.

You felt emboldened. “I wish we did it more often.” You turned towards him.

“Look how pretty.” He ignored your cue, and it was quite probably intentional. “Showing all those tits to the world.” He gulped a mouthful of beer and clicked his tongue. “The interviewer’s eyes kept going downwards.”

Your dress was not improper at all. It covered everything that needed to stay private, the long sleeved, high neck bodice had just a central stripe of mesh fabric, starting at your collar and hitting a few inches above your belly button, which let the crevice of your breasts be vaguely outlined, just vaguely, and Yoongi had risked losing his manners and self control over it. Photographers had loved your overall vibe, looking adorably ethereal, your hair braided in a crown, your flowy gown matching Yoongi’s lace shirt.

But of course your bodice caused a fuss the day after in the news. Not that you really cared. Yoongi had loved it, clasping your hand like crazy anytime a man came close, but at the same time parading you in front of the cameras, moving you around like a delicate nymph -- which he would undoubtedly claim as soon as the night was over. He swam in the calm and femininity you radiated, your energy matching his. All it would take was a twist of a wrist, a tap of a finger and he would be directing you in posing, your bodies moving simultaneously, as if you were nothing but a puppeteer and his toy, him pulling at your strings.

The whole experience awakened a connection so profound and intuitive, instinctual, that as you reached your hotel room together you still felt those magnets pushing and pulling you to each other, turning your lovemaking into some complicated dance, then into wild, rowdy fucking where no words were needed, your moans and groans saying exactly where to kiss, bite, hit, grope and fondle.

“Are you thinking about it too?” He asked.

“I miss it so much.” You whispered.

“Do you want to?” He kissed your temple. “Need me to?” He used his spare hand to massage your scalp.

Still, you noticed the dark circles under his eyes. “It’s okay. You’re tired.” You leaned into his hand and nuzzled into him.

“It’s been three weeks. Usually you can’t go three days without it.” He kissed you again, delivering eskimo kisses on your cheekbone. The tenderness of it was slowly gnawing at your insides.

“But you’re tired.” You whined. “Let’s just chill.” You grabbed his empty bottle and cuddled beside him. A few minutes later he was deep asleep, his head propped against the sofa and his mouth open. You covered him with a blanket and held him tighter.

Hoseok

“Oh, sweetie! Oh, love! Oh, my god! My girl, so good!” Hoseok cheered you on as you descended the stairs, careful not to stumble on your dress.

“Thank you, Hobi.” You touched your hair, falling in soft waves on one side of your face.

“Seriously, ____, you look so fucking good, baby.” He took your hand to spin you around for him, examining you carefully.

“Oh god.”

“I can change if you need me to, there’s an alternative upstairs and I have time, I can-”

“No baby, it’s… wow.” He eyed again the slit on your gown, starting mid-thigh and exposing the side of your left leg cheekily. His eyelashes batted like crazy, his hands already reaching for your bum, cupping it through the tight, sparkly fabric. The dress had a siren gown, and since it was quite daring you had the stylist prepare an alternative, since Hoseok couldn’t see you in it and you weren’t sure of his opinion. It’s not like you needed his approval, or that he wouldn’t let you wear it, but you weren’t completely sure of it, and you needed him boosting your ego a little. One single sign of unsurety and you would dash to the bedroom to change. But his beaming smile and the way his eyes were glued to your skin made you understand he would be lowkey upset by your change of outfit.

He looked unreal. His baby blue suit was highlighted by silver details, matching the sober sparkles of your grey dress. He looked you in the face, hesitating one second before pressing a blazing kiss on your lips. It was scorching, resembling the usual bolt of energy between the two of you.

“I need more.” He whispered against your mouth, licking your bottom lip.

“You know we’re gonna fuck it up.”

“I feel like fucking you up.” He murmured, a little disappointed that you were resisting him. You could feel his arousal against your hip.

You simply laughed. “They’re gonna pick us up in less than half an hour. We don’t have all that time.”

“We can take way less than that, you know it.”

Quickies with him were… perfect. Hot, messy, reckless. Merciless. His pace could be devilish, ruthless. Still-- “We’re gonna be sweaty and sleepy afterwards.” You grabbed the hair on his nape gently, holding him away from your face.

“So?” His hands, once on your hips, now were on the small of your back and slipping lower.

“I don’t want them to see you all freshly fucked out.” You murmured with a pout.

“Oh, are you jealous or are you worried they’re gonna see you all freshly fucked out?” He asked, nagging you, squeezing your ass.

“I just don’t want you to.” You replied, pout intensifying to the point it dimpled.

“Baby is jealous.” He teased you, his voice doing that cute ups and downs it does when he’s being deliberately cute and bratty. “You don’t want them seeing how good you are to daddy?”

That word. He was playing it dirty, pushing all your buttons: possessiveness, praise and your daddy kink. “Hobi, I swear to God, if you don't’ stop now you’re not getting any later. And I’ve spent the afternoon charging all the toys.” You warned him. And you were pretty sure you would stay true to your warning. Not 100% sure, but sure enough.

“Can I at least see what you’re wearing underneath?” He squeezed your bum once more, as if checking for the signs of undies.

“What makes you think I’m wearing something underneath this? After all it’s so damn tight.”

“Sweetie… Do you really need to tease me like this! Such a bad girl!” He laughed and at the same time he fixed his pants. Your dress wasn’t the only tight indument at the moment.

You headed for the living room, grabbing your shoes in the process, giving him a glance that invited him to follow you.

“You’re wearing those sandals, aren’t you?” He stared at the box, a pair of stilettos emerging from it, their sparkly strings catching his attention.

“Let me.” He motioned, helping you wear and latch them onto your feet.

“You truly are a vision, ____.” He was kneeling before you, looking at you wide eyed, his sweet smile edged with admiration and pride.

“You sure you don’t want to get rid of some tension before we head there?” He caressed your knee with apprehension. His personal pleasure would just be a minor advantage, what he really wanted was to help you with your nerves, since a couple days before you mentioned how worried you were about attending to such a big event.

“I don’t think I could even possibly enjoy it right now.” You put your hand atop his. “But ask me later, and with the adrenaline of the night and the relaxation of being done with it, I might be very interested.” You smiled, faking coyness.

In that moment his phone rang, probably the driver.

“Then let’s pick up from here later.” He let his hand trail along the naked back of your calf, kissing your hand and helping you up.

You couldn’t wait for the event to end. And for your night to truly begin.

On Loving one Taako Taaco

ReJEANcy again! Taako is away on business. Lup and Kravitz attend a party as new in laws. The people who can boast to be loved by Taako form an exclusive club. AKA: Lup and Kravitz are best friends and I will never not use the fact that Kravitz and Taako fell in love without Lup around in canon to my advantage because it has me feeling Some Kinda Way.

As always, thanks to @fandomsnstuff for you know... everything?

This felt longer when I wrote it but oh well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Enjoy!

ReJEANcy can be found Here and Here.

*~*~*~*~*

The evening came to its close, and with it, Kravitz and Lup retired with all due gallantry and ceremony, making their excuses and saying their goodbyes, until their coach was pulled around the front of the manor house drive, and Kravitz himself held out his hand to help Lup step up into the carriage.

She could not help but notice that the other guests began filtering out as well at their departure, and with it came the errant wondering - whether all in the county followed Kravitz’s lead in everything. She supposed they would, as he owned the majority of it. As the coach pulled away, beginning the long journey back to Astral, her thoughts strayed to the many introductions of the evening, to Kravitz’s neighbors, his friends.

Never had she been treated with such respect and deference in company. It was intimidating, in a way, to stand by Kravitz’s side; he could not stand in a room without one immediately taking notice of his excellent manner and breeding. He inspired a certain self-consciousness in company, it was clear, though he seemed at all times to combat it with a practiced grace. What a ridiculous thing money was, she thought, to inspire such feeling in a crowd. That simply because Kravitz’s wealth was so vast, he was treated as a great man. 

And by extension, she as a very great woman. And there lay the contradiction to her first inclination. That as intimidating as it was to stand on Kravitz’s arm, there was a power to it. That the difference between the treatment of Miss Lup Taaco, and Kravitz’s sister-in-law Miss Taaco was tangible.

It was another thing about him, she thought, perhaps the thing that most swayed her to liking him;  that beyond the other facets of his character, one thing had stood out: he had, from the moment they first met, treated Lup not as a lower-class member of the gentry, a supposed gentleman’s daughter with no fortune to her name. No, he had always acted, from the moment he was introduced to her, as though Lup was every bit his equal in rank, class, circumstance, breeding, and all. And in company, his example was always followed, for who would dare offend Lord Kravitz of Davenshire? 

She wondered if Taako had felt this way when Kravitz was courting him. There was something intoxicating about standing on Kravitz’s arm, being so well treated and highly thought of. It was no wonder he had been taken with the man in so short a time.

“You are contemplative,” Kravitz said, from where he sat opposite her. He was leaned back against the wall of the carriage, one leg bent on the seat, all relaxation now that they were unobserved. “What are you thinking of?”

He looked warm from the evening’s wine. Lup felt much the same: warm, loose, a bit tired from drink and company. It led her, perhaps, to speak more earnestly than she was used to.

“That you treat me better than I deserve, in their eyes,” she replied. His head cocked to the side, slow, brow furrowing inquisitively. “You behave in company as though I am your equal,” she explained,  “when women of my status are not even  allowed into the rooms in which you are treated as an honored guest. You have married Taako; I may be his sister, but my circumstances are unchanged. I am not accustomed to being treated as equal to someone of such rank as yourself.”

The man looked amused, a smirk on his lips.

“Taako would have me believe you are not my equal at all; rather he would tell me that you are my better. I believe he has said as much more than once.”

Lup laughed, quiet.

“He would say it.” She could not help but smile. Taako was better to her than she deserved.

“He thinks more highly of you than of any person living or dead,” Kravitz said, and Lup was taken, once again, by how… lucky she was.

“I am fortunate it is so,” she replied, her voice falling quiet. Kravitz looked at her fondly, and Lup thought how much more handsome he seemed here, quiet and relaxed and content in a comfortable space all his own. In company he was like a marble, fixed and perfected. He was much the same at the Estate when he was working, in order that those who worked under his name could follow a strong, confident example. She much preferred the softer iteration of him here, with life flowing through him, and so obviously. She thought that this must have been what Taako saw in him when he consented to marry him.

“My brother does not love easily,” she said, the words abruptly coming up from somewhere deep, secret, and true inside of her, spilling from her lips quickly and unexpectedly, lingering in the still air. She must’ve been inspired to say them by the drink, or by the intimate darkness of the swaying carriage, but now that she had said them, she felt at once as though there was a weight on her chest that, if not removed at once, would surely kill her. She tore her eyes from Kravitz, gazed toward the window at the blackness of the country night. 

“If I knew him any measure less than I do,” she confessed, “if anything had driven us from one another as children… I might believe that he had no heart at all.”

She looked back to Kravitz. His brow was furrowed once more, and he appeared fixed on her every word.

“It is quite the opposite you know,” she said. “It took me so long to understand, when we were younger. But he is not without feeling; rather… he feels so much, when he allows himself, that he can hardly stand it. He is so capable of love that he feels the need to conceal his heart behind wit and artifice, behind distant manners. It is how he survives this world; if everything were to touch him, as it touches us, he would drown from the force of it.”

Lup could not continue for the lump in her throat. She had always been the only one, save Auntie, who could understand the warmth under Taako’s iron exterior, the softness that he hid away for fear that it would one day be his destruction. Lup was the only one in the world who knew Taako enough to understand that to be loved by him was the greatest privilege man could bestow, so great, sometimes, that it was almost painful to know. Lup was the only one who understood the responsibility implied in being one of Taako’s beloved.

And then there was Kravitz.

“I apologize,” she said, around her tightened throat. “I am sure these are not revelations to you. But I must confess I was… taken off guard, upon my arrival to Davenshire, by how much he has come to care for you.” And suddenly it was vital that Kravitz understand, in no uncertain terms, how great his responsibility was too, alongside hers.

“Against all odds, you have captured my brother’s heart,” she said, looking at Kravitz, beautiful Kravitz, and she felt she would cry any moment. She spoke with as much gravity as she would muster, the wine in her blood loosening her tongue to an honesty she rarely felt confident enough to employ.

“You must be very careful with it.”

Kravitz looked warily at her, sympathy deep in his eyes. But with it, something more, something she could not yet identify. 

“I intend to be,” he hedged, and Lup shook her head, closing her eyes, and then looking at him imploringly, leaning forward in her seat. 

“You do not understand me. He will love you like no one alive can. I do not say it lightly. It is… to be loved by my brother, actively, is like nothing else. But betray the trust he places in you for a moment, Kravitz, and it will destroy him. It will break him so that he dares not allow himself to love again, and if there is one thing I will not see, it is my brother, shut off from this world and heartless.

“He weathered the death of our Aunt last year,” she said, “She was one of two people I could say definitively that Taako cared for. I am the other. You are the third I have seen him open himself to in the way that he has in my lifetime.” She swallowed thickly, thinking of Taako’s frightened, joyful expression the first moment he confessed to Lup that he loved Kravitz. Lup had never seen anything akin to it in the world.

“You must understand,” she said, “that you carry his heart in your hands now. He has made himself defenseless for you, and there is nothing in existence he fears more than that. There is no bravery he can summon greater than that which allows him to trust. It has never been simple for him. If he loves you, Kravitz, and he does, it is, whether you know it or not, the result of contemplation deeper and more labored than you can possibly have known when you asked him for his hand.

“I am his sister. He has always trusted me, in our own way. But he has chosen to place his trust in you, quite against his nature, and your responsibility is greater for it.” She blinked the tears from her eyes. To think Taako had only been absent a few days, and she missed him so terribly already. She did not understand how she had lasted in London without him, without being on the receiving side of that deep, overwhelming affection - without seeing him errantly in the hall or across a crowded room, and remembering, every moment, that she would do anything in the world for him.

Kravitz was gazing at her with wide eyes, half frightened, but immensely serious nonetheless, and Lup thought, of all people she had ever met, he seemed the one to hear her words and take them to heart more deeply than any.

“It is precarious ground upon which we stand, you and I,” she said, wryly. “Those who love him as we do.” She chuckled wetly. “But he is the best of us, is he not?”

“He is worth every trial,” Kravitz said then, conviction imbued in every aspect of his voice, and a wave of relief and affection swept over Lup so suddenly that she could hardly breathe. That Kravitz, with one sentence, had made it clear that he knew not only the weight of bearing Taako’s love, but also that he had come, independently, to the conclusion that he would bear it willingly, was a greater gift to her heart than any she could have received from her brother-in-law in all her life. The relief that there was someone in Taako’s life who understood him so that if she was made to leave him, he would be held in safe and loving hands was enough to finally bring the tears spilling from the corners of her eyes. And the kinship that had been lurking in the back of her mind; the sense that Kravitz knew her in an unspeakable way, simply for how much he was able to see the value of her brother, grew in her suddenly and fiercely until it was all consuming.

She smiled at Kravitz.

“Then you are worthy of  him,” she said. And she let her head rest against the carriage wall, and her eyes to slide shut.

*~*~*~*~*

Starting with @softgrantaire’s post yesterday, I have been seeing a lot of discussion surrounding the place of trans people in hockey fandom on Tumblr. Parts of his original post and the discussion emanating from it is undeniably necessary, and I do think that continuing the discussion on better representation benefits everybody in fandom. However, to me, some of the assumptions made are troublesome. I have spent a long time thinking on this, I have discussed this with some friends, and I do not think I can stay quiet because I really, really think that this discussion has become very black/white while nuance is 100% necessary in this case. I am also not seeking to attack anybody—feelings of discomfort are entirely valid and I will never say something else. However, if we are talking about being critical of fandom, I do think it is important to start with ourselves and look at where our discomfort comes from rather than only holding other people accountable.

To start, I need to address the persistent use of “terf.” Terf does not mean “excluding trans people from any given space,” which is how I currently see it being used. Terf means “trans-exclusionary radical feminist,” and denotates a specific kind of transphobia that seeks to claim trans men are women, and trans women are men.  Subsequently, they feel that trans women have no space in female spaces (e.g. they believe trans women should use men’s bathrooms). A terf would thus never say that a trans man does not belong in a female space, because a terf believes that trans men are women and therefore do belong there.

In fact, I have not seen anybody deny that trans men exist. In the discussion trans men are treated as men—which is only valid, given the fact that they are. A trans man has no reason to demand different rights from a female community than a cis man (I will get back to this later). A trans man (who in this context is someone who fills a male societal role/passes) has the same societal privileges a cis man does. This is inherent to being male.

This is also one of my main issues with the initial post: “trans men” are persistently differentiated from “men.” The demand is not to promote equality, it is a call for women to allow trans men into their space. And yes, I understand that transgender men are marginalized—but so are BIPOC men, and so are gay men, and so are disabled men. So if you are striving for equality on that level, wording is certainly something to consider—because currently, the argument, to me, sounds like “trans men are different from cis men” when to many FtM, a large part of being transgender is not wanting to be differentiated. In fact, the women who want a safe space for themselves on Tumblr don’t exclude trans men because they are trans, they exclude trans men because they are men.

The trans/men differentiation seems to promote misunderstanding and a black-and-white thinking: either trans/men are accepted in fandom, or they are not. A fandom is safe to all, or it is not. A fandom caters to all, or it does not. That is not how a fandom works, however—and it never has.

This leads me on to my second major point: Both the initial post and subsequent responses discuss “hockeyblr” as a single community when in fact it comprises many different people with many different interests and reasons. To give some examples: they support different teams and/or players, they do not ship or they ship player/player and/or player/self-insert, they primarily focus on the fandom side or on the hockey side, and so forth.

Thus. Can fandom-as-whole be more inclusive? Absolutely. Is it good to reflect on why you make the choices you make (e.g. someone writing skinny white cis female self-inserts as opposed to including BIPOC, different bodies and different genders; someone writing male/male; someone writing mpreg or genderswap). At the same time, however, I think it is so fucking important to primarily keep toxic hockey culture accountable for your discomfort. Both trans and female fans’ primary discomfort germinates from that, not from interaction with each other. But trans discomfort and female discomfort are not the same, particularly if we are discussing trans men.

Subsequently—I believe that it is okay if someone wants to run a blog that does seek a female audience and does revolve around that. Women do deserve a safe space; if they wish to keep to a corner of the fandom which is female-only, there is no reason for men to demand access to that side of fandom. Different groups can exist side-by-side. Not everything is for everybody.

I also think that men who wish to see more inclusivity in fic need to reflect on why women need to write more gnc/nb/transgender fic. I do not think this is transphobic; it has nothing to do with a “dislike of or prejudice against transgender people.” There is no inherent negative attitude, merely a group of women writing what they want to read. And subsequently, for me, this maps onto the general fandom rule of “if you want to read it, and it doesn’t exist, write it yourself.” This is even more true if you discuss something as complex as gender identity; while it may be possible to write a fic not entirely focused on gender, gender is often still a big part of a romantic relationship and it (unfortunately) certainly is a large part in how society treats different people. Moreover, this would have been a different argument if people were writing for money and refusing to write transgender characters for no good reason, but the vast majority (if not all) of hockeyblr’s writers do so for free, in their spare time, for their own fun.

So absolutely, yes, educate people on trans experiences. Yes, make people aware that there are more experiences beside cis female/male or cis male/male. Discuss the issues of representation that exist within fic, whether that is self-insert or mlm, whether it is gender-related or ethnicity-related or anything else. And absolutely, yes, acting like all of hockey Tumblr is female-only is shitty as all fuck because it most certainly is not, and there is absolutely ZERO need for it to be: any and all people whose interests fit with the fandom should feel welcome in the fandom-at-large regardless of gender, sexuality, or amount of societal oppression they face, and be supported in these aspects. At the same time, however, there is no true reason for anybody to demand that all of the fandom is safe to them, particularly if we are discussing gender; women who want to hockey blogs for only a female audience should be free to do so, the same way someone who wants to only discuss two players being gay for each other should be.

Anyway. Please accept and respect each other. Fandom is perceived shittily enough as it is; to talk and discuss these matters is of vital importance, but please also respect peoples’ individual wishes  and needs when Tumblr is large enough for all of us to exist, find our communities within hockeyblr, and be happy.

HOW THE ANIMATION SERIES ‘POWERPUFF GIRLS’ AND ‘MY LITTLE PONY’ BUILD STEREOTYPES ABOUT GENDER AND SOCIAL BEHAVIOUR THROUGH CERTAIN CHARACTERS?

ABSTRACT

The topic of this essay is related to animation - art as ancient as it is modern. Despite a step up aside from standard graphic design, animation deserves properly attention as the only art that unites everyone else: drawing (illustration), acting (movement), music and narrative, and this makes it so appealing field for visual expression.

The subject of this study will be the wonderful world of the creative family of Craig McCracken and Lauren Faust and this choice is not accidental. He is a consequence of long-term interest (initially as a fan, and now professionally) in the animations created by them.

This study will seek to reinforce the stereotype that in the late 20th and early 21st century women are independent , strong enough and  able to cope with life's challenges on their own, which is embedded in 'Powerpuff Girls' (animated series created in 1998 by Craig McCracken), as well as the stereotype that behaviour is not a function of gender and in this sense there are no 'good' or 'bad' genders. There are those who act socially acceptable and those who do not, which is reflected in both animated series : 'Powerpuff Girls' and 'My Little Pony : The Friendship is magic"(created in 2010 by Lauren Faust.)

The influence that these series cause as well as their reflection in social life and in some manifestations of the subculture will also be affected.

This essay will offer an overview of some gender and behavioural specifics of the characters from animated series ‘Powerpuff Girls“’ (1998) and ‘My Little Pony : Friendship Is Magic’ (2010). This matter will be explored using various descriptive and comparative methods and knowledge of semiotic analysis obtained in previous levels of education, as well as with the help of well-studied existing literature on gender stereotypes and human behaviour and their reflection in a modern animation for children.

●  The composition (environment) as a surrounding background in the two animated series will be analyzed and compared. Will be answered how and to what extent it can influence the actions of the characters which reflect certain social and gender stereotypes.

●  Concepts such as Second and Third Wave Feminism will be addressed and an analogy will be made between feminism and the heroines of the Powerpuff Girls series.

●  A review of the actions of the characters from the above-mentioned animated series will be made, and the link between existing concepts of the role of gender and social behaviour in society will be sought. The perception that the imposed gender stereotypes should generate certain perceptions, questioning their appropriateness will be challenged (and this will protect the rights of certain societies and groups such as the Queer society, for example.) The essay will stand behind the thesis that behavior is not a function of gender, considering the behaviour of a particular character with an unidentified gender identity from "Powerpuff Girls".

●  Existing gender stereotypes will also be compared and challenged with some alternative ways that determine the place of gender identity in human society. Will be answered of the question why animation designed for a little girls, such as "My Little Pony", affects a certain group of people (young men called "Bronies") and how they interpret the gender stereotype (or lack thereof), creating and developing a certain modern subculture, such as the Bronylore sites, for example.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          The choice of this topic is due to the fact that in the process of studying I was very impressed by the tasks related to video making and the animations that I used in performing these tasks. In addition, the topic expresses my desire to continue to engage in animation as a practitioner in a future, and if this happens, all of the above issues regarding gender and behavioural stereotypes would be useful in creating credible animated characters.

All cartoon characters have their own story, and even if the interactions between them seem to "make" the film, the fact that the characters are always in touch with the world around them should not be overlooked. They are part of it, they see it, they touch it, they move and meet other peers in it and all this pushes the action forward. This surrounding world and its story creates the composition of the animated series, and it depends on it whether the action will increase or decrease when one of the characters is placed in it. Therefore, here will be considered some characteristics of the composition and their manifestation in the two considered animated series ‘Powerpuff Girls and ‘My Little Pony : The Friendship is Magic”.

The layout of the composition in the animated films is a special type of design, which is created by layout artists and background painters.

Both the exterior and the interior composition in 'Powerpuff Girls' and 'My Little Pony: The Friendship is Magic' are used as a background for the actions of the characters in building social and gender stereotypes. Let's see how this works.

The exterior images of Townsville in the 'Powerpuff Girls' series appeared as a result of the interaction between the bourgeois aesthetics of post-war America in contact with the more popular taste of the 1950s. They show a love of urban architecture and its details (especially the Precision style, which later grew into American modernism and the UPA house style - the dominant style in animation in the 50s and 60s.) The three little heroines act in this urban environment, by demonstrating their superpowers and protecting the city from evil monsters and invaders, which reinforces the stereotype for the belief in traditional values.

                                       Fig.1. The City of Townsville                                             (Source : Fandom.com)

In contrast to Townsville's modern urban environment, Ponyville's exterior view from 'My Little Pony' expresses the idea of ​​living in a natural environment. Ponyville's infrastructure is presented as medieval architecture in a country style, recalling the fact that the Middle Ages were the period in which most magical spells were performed. The typical cottages have a wooden frames and thatched roofs overhanging the upper floors. There are all kinds of buildings here, just like in the human commune: train station, clock tower, hospital, day spa, joke shop, Hay cafe, Golden Oak library, theater, even school (which challenges one of the possible existing stereotypes who claims that this animated series presents the girl's brilliance and beauty as more necessary than knowledge and learning.)

                                                 Fig.2. Ponyville

                                          (Source : Fandom.com)

As can be seen from the design of the three girls' bedroom, it is built almost entirely in pink and pale purple (except for the blankets, colored with the characteristic individual colour of each one of them), which is associated with the female sex, according to the existing modern social stereotype.

                                                                 Fig.3. The bedroom of Powerpuff Girls

                                              (Source : Weheartit)

This certain ‘girlish colours' trend in the interior composition of bedroom continued a decade later in "My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic" and this once again confirm this stereotype: pink and pale purple are just girlish colours (and therefore unacceptable for boys.)

                                             Fig.4. Fluttershy's bedroom

                                               (Source : derpibooru.org)

This naturally raises the question: do not such restrictions impose from an early age a reluctance to see the other point of view, that of the opposite sex? Or it is deliberately ignored? Isn't part of the natural emotion of childhood taken away by stereotyping such as 'animation for girls' or 'colours for girls'? Because it is a fact that 'My Little Pony" is perceived equally positively by both sexes up to a certain age (4-6 years), but not after the children pass primary school age, where the distinction becomes especially pronounced.

Usually the exterior and interior compositions in children's animated series change very quickly as a result of various factors, some of which are:

● Atmosphere (Rainy, Cloudy,  Sunny, Underwater, Outer Space,  Smoky, Foggy, Dusty); ● Mood of the characters (Sad, Bored, Аngеr, Excited); ● Colour and technique used (Monochromatic/graphic/ оr high-contrast colour, Realistic оr Abstract); ● Point of View and Object Specifics (proportions). Since they all influence the construction of certain stereotypes, some of them will be visually analyzed using the semiotic methods studied in the previous levels.

    Fig.5. Atmosphere composition : Rainy, Cloudy, Sunny, Underwater, Outer

                                       Space, Smoky, Foggy, Dusty

                                              ( Source : Tumblr)

● VISUAL ANALYSIS I :

* Representation :

This distribution includes eight compositions of the layout reflecting the atmospheric weather: Rainy, Cloudy, Sunny, Underwater, Outer Space, Smoky, Foggy, Dusty.

* Where is it located?

The City of Townsville, in the air, underwater and in space.

* How is the characters are placed in the compositional frame? What surrounds them?

- Rainy composition :

In the center of the composition is a man who is strangely smiling. He wears sunglasses while it rains from the sky. Only the upper part of his body up to his shoulders is visible.

-Cloudy composition :

In the foreground is a girl with black hair and green clothes, behind him a girl with orange hair and pink clothes, and behind them a blond girl in blue clothes. All three fly in the clouds.

-Underwater composition :

In the center of the composition are two women surrounded by water who appear to be sinking.

-Outer Space composition :

To the left of the center and below is the girl with black hair and green clothes; in the middle of the composition is a blond girl with blue clothes, and at the top right of the center is the girl with orange hair and pink clothes. They fly (or fall) from the starry sky around them.

* Is their activity presented as typical (or atypical)?

The three girls have superpowers, so the actions they perform can be defined as typical for them.

* Does the design meet the genre expectations?

Yes.

* What is the preferred audience?

Mostly children's audience (over 3 or 4 years), but also for all older children and their parents.

* How is the composition built? Why is the composition built in this way?

- Rainy composition - In dark blue colours, because apparently the action takes place at night. The emphasis is on the figure of the man in the center for which lighter shades of blue are used.

- Cloudy composition - The composition is built in monochrome colours to make the three characters to stand out.

-Sunny composition - Townsville buildings are only presented as outlines (no details).

-Underwater composition - The composition seems to be diagonal and creates a feeling of fluidity due to the position of the bodies of the characters underwater.

-Outer Space composition - Here the feeling of height is achieved through the facial expression and positioning of the bodies of the three girls within the composition, which cannot be the same if the action takes place on the ground.

-Smoky composition - This composition is interesting because of the viewing angle (from above). Maybe that is the point of view of someone who flies.

-Foggy composition - Just like the previous composition in this one the angle of observation it is from above.

-Dusty composition - There are no figures here, and the feeling of dust (smoke) comes from the abstract shape of the black background, in the center of the composition, which resembles smoke after an explosion.

* What is the message here?

The message is that in most cases, girls (women) can have many different abilities to deal with the dangers that surround them.

* Stereotype and its challenge

A stereotypical example here may be that girls have to stay at home where they are well protected because they do not have the necessary strength to deal with the dangers of the world around them.

However, they go out, use their superpowers and prove that this is possible, which challenges the stereotype.

● DECONSTRUCTION :

* Foreground.

In the foreground here can be seeing :

- Rainy composition - A long face man with a strange smile.

- Cloudy composition - A girl flying into the sky.

- Sunny composition - City landscape.

- Underwater composition - Two drowning female figures.

- Outer Space composition - Three flying (falling) girls.

- Smoky composition - Smoke.

- Foggy composition – Clouds.

- Dusty composition - Explosion.

* Background.

In the background can be seeing :

- Rainy composition - Part of the urban landscape of Townsville.

- Cloudy composition - Two more flying girls and clouds.

- Sunny composition - Sunny sky.

- Underwater composition – Water.

- Outer Space composition – Sky and stars.

- Smoky composition - Car and building.

- Foggy composition - A city seen from above.

- Dusty composition - Black sky.

* The shapes in the composition are :

- Rainy composition - Dashes (rain.)

- Cloudy composition - Circles (eyes, heads, clouds.)

- Sunny composition - Vertical and horizontal outlines of buildings.

- Underwater composition - Body shapes (bodies.)

- Outer Space composition - Circles (heads, clouds.)

- Smoky composition - Rectangles and angles (car and building) and Abstract shapes (smoke.

- Foggy composition - Abstract shapes (Clouds.)

- Dusty composition - Abstract shapes (Smoke after an explosion.)

* The colours used are :

- Rainy composition – All shades of blue: from dark to electric blue.

- Cloudy composition – Monochrome gray, black, orange, yellow, green, pink, blue.

- Sunny composition – Orange, beige.

- Underwater composition – Blue, orange, purple.

- Outer Space composition – Blue, orange, black, green, pink, yellow.

- Smoky composition - All shades of green: from dark to electric green.

- Foggy composition – Blue-green.

- Dusty composition – Black and red.

* Positive and negative spaces :

The only composition in which the ratio between positive and negative space is the same is the Sunny composition.

● ICONOLOGY (According to Panofsky's three levels) :

* Rainy composition –

- Level 1 Description : Here you can see a long-haired smiling man on a rainy night. There is a building on his right.

- Level 2 Identification : Мъжът изглежда странно защото носи слънчеви очила докато вали  дъжд. He's probably walking down a street because the outlines of a building can be seen on one side of him, and it looks like the light from a street lamp is falling on him.His facial expression is smiling but that smile is sinister rather than benevolent. He seems to be a person who has committed a crime and is happy with it. The night time in which this walk takes place proves this once again because night is the best time to cover up the evidence of the crime, and the rain only reinforces the feeling of anxiety in the whole composition.

- Level 3 Analysis : From ancient times, mankind has known such villains who committed their crimes at night: Bluebeard and Jack the Ripper are among them.

* Cloudy composition –

- Level 1 Description : Herе can be seen a cloudy sky in which three girls are flying.

- Level 2 Identification : The sky is thick gray, there are clouds, which suggests that there will probably be a storm soon. The girl's face in the foreground is angry. The flying girls are in a hurry for somewhere. The posture of their bodies shows their determination and fearlessness. Even the approaching storm cannot stop or frighten them.

- Level 3 Analysis : Historically, such a brave girl-hero is Jeanne d’Arc, whо leads an army, wins many battles and becomes proof of how a young girl can be stronger than many men and win much more than them; Amelia Earhart, who began with her flying experiments at the age of 20 and became the first female aviator who fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean and more recently Greta Thunberg, who is a winner of Human Act Award 2020 and The International Children’s Peace Prize, which is awarded to child who has made a significant contribution to advocating children's rights.

* Sunny composition –

- Level 1 Description : Here can be seen а very high buildings and above them a sunny sky.

- Level 2 Identification : The sun in the sky is almost in the middle of the composition, indicating that it is probably just before noon. There are various office buildings and TV towers, and judging by the height of the buildings, it can be assumed that this is happening in America, because there are cities with similar architecture : Boston, Chicago and New York in America, for example.

- Level 3 Analysis : The Empire State Building is a 102-story skyscraper located in Manhattan, New York. It was built in Art Deco style and it was completed in 1931.

* Underwater composition – 

- Level 1 Description : Here can be seen two women drowning underwater.

- Level 2 Identification : Women are not on an equal footing, one of them with orange hair seems to be in the power of the other with black hair. The black-haired woman's face is visible, and it shows that she is furious, while the other woman's face is hidden. Both are wearing clothes, not swimsuits, which shows that they fell under the water not of their own volition, but after an accident.

- Level 3 Analysis : Is it possible that someone standing under water will come to life again? Yes, if his name is Harry Houdini. The magician of the late 19th and early 20th centuries has repeatedly proven that it is possible (albeit with the help of illusion.)

*  Outer Space composition - 

- Level 1 Description : Here can be seen three girls flying or falling amongst the outer space.

- Level 2 Identification : The girls' facial expressions suggest that they do not enjoy this flight. It seems that someone threw them into space against their will.

- Level 3 Analysis : From 7 to 20 February 2008, a space flight took place with the ship Atlantis. During the flight, the German Hans Wilhelm Schlegel went into space for 6 hours and 45 minutes to prepare the module for scientific work, as well as to replace the spent tank with compressed nitrogen on the station hull.

* Smoky composition –

- Level 1 Description : Here can be seen a stopped car. There are scattered sheets of paper around the car, and smoke can be seen in the air above the car. There is something on top the car that looks like a human body.

- Level 2 Identification : The car is parked diagonally, which is not the usual way to park. Scattered sheets of paper and smoke in the air, as well as the body (if it is a body) on top the car, suggest that an accident may have occurred.

- Level 3 Analysis : Many historically significant figures have died in a car accident -James Dean (1955) who played only three roles but remained forever in the history of cinema; Albert Camus (1960), the "father" of existentialism; Jane Mansfield (1967), considered by many to be the heiress of Marilyn Monroe; Grace Kelly (1982), the muse of Alfred Hitchcock; and the mysterious car crash in Paris that killed Lady Diana Spencer (1997.)

* Foggy composition -

- Level 1 Description : Some irregular shapes can be seen here and some of them are hidden behind a fog.

- Level 2 Identification : It looks like a city view from above. Some roofs of buildings and clouds can be seen. This could be the point of view of a passenger on a plane or someone parachuting.

- Level 3 Analysis : According to Online Symbolism Dictionary " Fog illustrates obscurity, indistinction; in the Bible, it is an image preceding great revelations. It is the "GRAY zone" between reality and unreality, and uncertainty about the future and beyond. According to Browning it can represent approaching death. Isolation. A transformation into the unreal."(1997, 2001)

* Dusty composition -

- Level 1 Description : Here can be seen red circles on a black background.

- Level 2 Identification : The circles are irregular, they have the shape of a cloud that scatters in the air. Resembles exposure after a bomb.

- Level 3 Analysis : A similar sight can be seen after the atomic bomb explosions in Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945.

● SEMIOTICS :

* Rainy composition -

 A MAN - (Signifier) - A male human being which could be:

- An icon (anatomical look of man; cartoon character.. ) -> (signified)

- A symbol (Jesus Christ, Buddha,John Lennon,Yuri Gagarin -> (signified)

- An index (as a consequence of God, monkey, extraterrestrial project) -> (signified)

* Cloudy composition and Outer Space composition -

A GIRL(S) - (Signifier) - A small female human being which could be:

- An icon (anatomical look of girl; cartoon character.. ) -> (signified)

- A symbol (Greta Thunberg, Little Red Riding hood) -> (signified)

- An index (as a consequence of the relationship between her parents) -> (signified)

* Sunny composition -

URBAN ARCHITECTURE – (Signifier) - The physical appearance of a city.

- An icon ( many buildings built at a short distance from each other.) -> (signified)

- A symbol (London, New York, Tokio) -> (signified)

- An index (The building is a consequence of the planning and technological construction by the man.-> (signified)

* Underwater composition -

A WOMEN (WOMAN) – (Signifier) - A female human being which could be:

- An icon (anatomical look of woman; cartoon character.. ) -> (signified)

- A symbol (Indira Gandhi, Valentina Tereshkova, Madona) -> (signified)

- An index (as a consequence of the relationship between her parents) -> (signified)

* Smoky composition -

A CAR - (Signifier) - Мachine for transportation which could be:

- An icon ( machine that have four tires and transport people.) -> (signified)

- A symbol (Tesla Cybertruck )-> (signified)

- An index ( a consequence of the development of a technical project created by mechanical engineers) -> (signified)

* Foggy composition -

A FOG  - (Signifier) - A cloud of condensed water vapor (microscopic droplets or at a temperature below 0 ° C - ice crystals) that starts from the earth's surface and reduces visibility below 1 km. It could be:

- An icon ( water droplets ) -> (signified)

- A symbol ( obscurity, beyond, the zone between reality and unreality) -> (signified)

- An index ( as a result of meeting two air fronts.) -> (signified)

*Dusty composition -

AN EXPLOSION - (Signifier) - Oxidation reaction that produces emission of gases and dust which could be: 

- An icon ( Cloud dust after the release of energy in an extreme manner. ) -> (signified) 

- A symbol ( Hiroshima and Nagasaki )-> (signified) 

- An index ( as a consequence of oxidation reaction that produces large amounts of hot gas.) -> (signified) 

● REDUNDANCY AND ENTROPY :

Elements of Redundancy and Entropy can be found in some of the eight compositions.

* Entropy can be seen in Cloudy and Rainy compositions and this is the logo of Cartoon Network. It is clear from the logo that this layout is related to the animation.

* Redundancy:

The element that is not essential for Rainy composition is the building, because the content can be understood without it.

The elements that will not affect the Underwater composition if they are not there are the clothes of both women.

● BINARY OPOSITES :

* Rainy composition - Light/Darkness

* Cloudy composition – Real / Fantastic

* Sunny composition – High / Low

* Underwater composition – Villain / Victim

* Outer Space composition – Real / Fantastic

* Smoky composition – High / Low

* Foggy composition – High / Low

* Dusty composition - Light /Darkness

Foreshortening:

This approach is often used when the power of one of the characters (usually the villains) or one of their super abilities should stand out in the composition. For example : the power of Sedusa, which is hidden in her hair, as well as her ability to incarnate; the influence that Him exerts on all; the physical strength of Big Billy; the ability of the Mayor of Townsville to fly (but only in sleep).

          Fig. 6  Sedusa, Him, Big Billy, The Mayor of Townsville

                                            (Source : Tumblr)

In another case, foreshortening in the film it is used to reinforce the stereotype that in order for a woman to be physically attractive, she does not have to be smart (later this stereotype was challenged by Miss Bellum 's actions.) However, in 99 percent of her appearances in the series, she is presented only as a body without a head.

                                          Fig.7  Miss Sara Bellum

                                               (Source : Tumblr)

Complex scenes and the use of 'Dutch angle' in some compositions:

In some more complex scenes, where they have to present several actions at once, the layout artists have divided the field diagonally, which allows them to present two parallel actions in one frame.

                                         Fig.8  Gangreen Gang I

                                             (Source : Tumblr)

The horizon is usually in the middle of the screen and coincides with the eye line of the observer. But when the scene requires tension and drama, the Dutch angle is used in the composition, which reinforces the feeling of insecurity and instability. In the case of Him, its use is a very good solution because it reinforces the stereotype that sometimes the lack of a clear gender identity can be quite confusing and even frightening.

                                                 Fig.9 Him

                                             (Source : Tumblr)

But how does it all actually begin?

The year is 1998. A new American animated series about superheroes is conquering the world. This is the story of the three little girls Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup, living in the city of Townsville, who were invented by their father and scientist Professor Utonium. Girls have superpowers and use them in their fight against evil: starting with local street thugs, and ending with superpowers of universal evil such as insidious demons and vampires.The series was produced by Hanna-Barbera for Cartoon Network and created by animator Craig McCracken. Conceived and developed under the name 'Whoopass Stew!' in the second year of McCracken's studies at the California Institute of the Arts (CalArts), the series debuted in late 1998, has its 6 seasons (78 series),  as well as a special edition of the feature film and a special edition of the anniversary film to celebrate the 10th anniversary, as well as various comics, video games, clothes, toys and other franchise and ended in March 2005, winning nominations for six Emmy Awards, nine Annie Awards, and millions of fans around the world.In the animated series, the leadership implicitly belongs to Blossom (orange long hair, pink dress wide black resembling a karate belt and a red bow); the sweetest is Bubbles (blonde braids, sky blue clothing) and the most combative is Buttercup (black short hair, green clothing).     

                                            Fig.10 The Powerpuff Girls                                                   

                                     (Source: thefluffybunch.fandom.com )

The shape of the body, head and eyes of each of them resembles a circle (in fact, the bodies of all three are disproportionately small and their eyes are disproportionately large relative to their heads), but in fact this deformation, as well as the emphasis on their round shape is not random. Round shapes are characteristic of the feminine principle and thus the idea of ​​dominant feminism is introduced.Initially, nothing threatening is found in the vision of the girls, but if they are confronted by a bully or a villain, they immediately become a real threat to him, showing their super fighting skills, which shatter the traditional notions of ‘femininity’ associated with meekness, shyness and cowardice. Over time, it turns out that McCracken was right about his choice of this type of female superhero; many other films on the subject appeared, and critics began to define the movement of "girl power" that began in the 1990s as feminism from the Third Wave (the Second Wave is typical of the feminist movement of the 1960s.) The new movement does not aim to oppose to the femininity of power, but on the contrary, shows that both are possible together and the result is quite attractive. Many emerging figures and groups stand behind this concept and develop it to varying degrees, starting with the young female punk band of the 90's Riot Grrrls, who first showed that rebellion and femininity are not mutually exclusive concepts, and continuing the trend with the hysteria for a indisputably the most successful girl band in the history of pop music, the Spice Girls, which openly promotes ideas of female power and potential.

                                                Fig.11 Spice Girls

                                            (Source:  eonline.com )

Unlike the feminist generation of the 60s which advocates for gender equality, for privileges of working mothers and against the gender discrimination in applying for job, as well as against sexual abuse against the physically weaker sex, the girls of 90s do not need to be rescued, they do not want to be protected or receive special privileges because of their gender as they can handle everything on their own.  They openly and clearly state their place in the world through their behavior, as well as by following the messages in the texts of their favourite girl bands.In the 90s, not only was the dominant male role in society challenged (which is the main merit of The Second-wave feminists) but it went even further by challenging the stereotype that femininity and sexuality were something that should be to be denied (or belittled at best). Young women in the 90's believe that female attractiveness should be manifested as an expression of opportunities and strength. In this sense, maintaining good physical and intellectual condition are mandatory challenges, and films such as "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" (1997) and "10 things I hate about you" (1999) only prove it. In ‘10 Things I Hate About You: Kat, Rom-Com Feminist’ (2020) ,Kat Stratford (Julia Stiles' character) reads Sylvia Plath and chose the role of an antisocial and self-sufficient feminist, because she is fully aware the strength of her intellect and abilities, but in the same moment  she is attractive, smart and physically fit young woman.

So, is the fictional character Lara Croft from the 2001 series of video games and film, who portrays her as a smart and physically fit young archaeologist who takes risks and copes no worse than men with many challenges on the way to achieving her goals, and thus becoming a role model for a thousands of young women of her generation.

As can be seen, in 90s the women can be strong and independent and to deal with their enemies alone and from this current point of view the myths about their dependence on men remains in the past.

From all the above it can be concluded that in creating the three Powerpuff Girls, Craig McCracken is not only influenced by all these processes, but also manages to visually present the destruction of the stereotype for the weakness and insecurity of femininity, as well as myths about the social and role of women dependent on men in a particularly original way through the interactions of Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup with the rich variety of the other characters in the series.

Conditionally, the interaction with these characters will be divided into four groups:

- interaction of Powerpuff Girls with a female characters,

- interaction of Powerpuff Girls with a male characters,

- interaction of Powerpuff Girls with a creatures and

- interaction of Powerpuff Girls with non-heteronormative characters,

and a comparison will be made between the Powerpuff Girls and one representative of each one of them.

Among the interaction of Powerpuff Girls with the other female characters stands out one - that of glamorous assistant Miss Sara Bellum. This character challenges one traditional stereotype. Her emphatically feminine appearance (and as already commented more precisely her body because her head is missing) does not necessarily mean that she is stupid, but on the contrary; when necessary, she can make the right decisions and even be quite 'intellectually sharp'.

                                       Fig.12  Miss Sara Bellum’s head

                                             (Source : Fandom.com)

As for the interaction of the Powerful Girls with the male characters, there is a kind of "competition" between them. This is clearly evident in the interaction of girls with Gangreen Gang - a group of troublesome hooligans and bandits, known for their antisocial behavior, who live in the town dump in Townsville. Among their members are Ace, Snake, Lil 'Arturo, Grubber and Big Billy. The boys are mostly known for committing petty crimes, such as vandalism and harassment of the young or elderly. (Ace has to some extent "evolved", replacing a member of the Gorillaz who was imprisoned for a while). The Gang are characterized by their green skin, and all the gang members have black hair, except for Big Billy, who has red hair. They appear to be teenagers, but they vary widely in height and body type. Their species is mutated human.

                                               Fig.13 Gangreen Gang II

                                              (Source : Fandom.com)

The three girls, however, worthily oppose and manage to defeat them, not only because they use their physical superpower, but also because they can be friendly and smiling and say "please" and "thank you." Thus, another stereotype is challenged - that of the Second-wave feminists, who are traditionally bad, while Craig Mkraken's heroines behave in a traditionally acceptable way.

The other characters in the animated series are portrayed according to traditional notions of gender stereotypes: Townsville's female characters are portrayed as cowards (for example, they are afraid of insects until someone fearless man comes to save them), while the male characters are portrayed as aggressive. Fuzzy Lumpkins, Amoeba boys and especially Mojo Jojo, who is the main antagonist and the main enemy of Professor Utonius and the strong girls, are constantly planning to conquer the world or at least cause harm to someone in the neighbourhood.                                                                          Mojo spend a lot of his time inventing a new weapons or technology and even on several occasions his plans succeeded.

At the end, the feminine principle wins again, thanks to a typical feminine quality that men can't stand: being nice. In this way, the female 'being nice' becomes a super power, but falling into male hands, it is again subjected to destructive criticism, which reinforces the gender stereotype.

                                               Fig.13  Mojo Jojo

                                           (Source : Fandom.com)

After all this, however, there is a more special kind of interaction between the girls and someone who is 'a villain so evil, so sinister, so horribly vile that even the utterance of his name strikes fear into the hearts of men. The only safe way to refer to this king of darkness is simply... HIM." With these words this mysterious character is represented by The Narrator in the episode ‘Octi Evil’.

What do we know about this mysterious being? Very little. - Him is a highly manipulative creature that has a high  enough charisma that he persuade and manipulate the beings; - He is an all powerful being. The most powerful in the world second only to thegirls. Or at least, that is what the series wants us to think; - He has a interesting relationship with the professor. Usually the focus is on his atypical (unrecognizable) gender identity and here the confusion comes from the fact that he speaks with an ominous high voice and wears high heels and sock nets, which is a sign of non-heteronormativity, according to the existing stereotype. Can this strange and contradictory character really be characterized as non-heteronormative and can this characteristic contribute to the naturalization of prejudice or the exclusion of groups that identify as non-heteronormative (such as Queer.) According to Goodreads " Queer identitites may be adopted by those who reject traditional gender identities and seek a broader, less conformist, and deliberately ambiguous alternative to the label LGBT."(Goodreads,2020) 

As a result of the above, the following question arises: can Him, who embodies the world's super-evil, serve as an ideological support to viewers whose beliefs and cultures mock non-heteronormative people and violate their rights? And is his characterization of super-evil really related to his unclear gender or is it a consequence of his unacceptable social behavior? 

Interesting is the opinion of Dennis, according to which "Him presents the latest trends in animation that show homosexuality as "either stupid or sinister"         (p. 138, 2003) and he is about to be right because in the new animated version of "Mr. Magoo" released in 2019, the assistant of the main antagonist called Little Weasel is again presented with the characteristics of a non-heteronormative person, which again raises the question of why (and is it correct) to use a non-heteronormative character in a villainous role and in a negative context? What causes the construction of such a stereotype in the minds of young viewers?

On the one hand, it is good for children to be prepared for life, because in it they will encounter all kinds of challenges and all kinds of people (Him could be of any gender); on the other hand, what makes Him really evil and dangerous is his manipulative nature and the fact that he is a collection of contradictions. The interaction with someone who has similar behavior in the real life can always deceive or confuse them, because they are often not well prepared and they don't know how to react.

This essay stands behind the thesis that the feeling of absolute evil in the series does not come from the non-heteronormative man (Him), with whom the Powerpuff Girls often interact, but is the result of the contradictions from which this character is built: Santa Claus and Satan; human body and legs and lobster clamps instead of arms; a voice as thin and attractive and as powerful and furious as lightning. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wd3PJHCrQ7k

The contradiction inherent in his nature causes shock and horror in the observer, not the lack of gender identity. This character once again emphasizes the fact that evil is stronger than all genders and individual traits.

                                                        Fig.14 HIM

                                               (Source : Fandom.com)

Although this essay supports the notion that to be non-heteronormative is not something perverted and dangerous that adults should protect children from, the animated series "My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic" which appeared 12 years after "Powerful Girls" is evidence of how indirectly an animation designed for young girls can become a challenge to the social construction of gender through the subsequent manifestations of subculture (a different folklore currents and communities such as "Bronies", or Japanese postmodern art movement known as "Superflat", and - why not - the art sharing platform DeviantArt / partly /.)

                 Fig.15 My Little Pony : Friendship is Magic

                                   (Source : Fandom.com)

The last discussion in the essay will be related to the question of why animation intended for a target group of little girls, such as "My Little Pony", affects a certain group of people (young men who call themselves ‘bronies’) and how they interpret the gender stereotype of the cartoon characters (or lack thereof). What is the role of children's animations in the creation and development of a subculture, such as the network of Bronylore sites?

Although Lauren Faust, creator of "My Little Pony" and wife of Craig McCracken, (who previously worked with him on "The Powerful Girls") is adamant that the 'My Little Pony : The Friendship is Magics' was conceived and implemented as an animation for little girls, this series is becoming very popular among an unusual demographic audience of young men who call themselves "Bronies" (The term is a sum of the abbreviated "bro" and "pony" and distinguishes adults fans, most often ages 18 - 34 who follow" My Little Pony : Friendship Is Magic" from the target audience of young girls.) The Bronies use "4chan" or create their own network of online sites "Bronylore", where they publish their comments and comics related to the show. Why this series has such an impact on these young men and how the bronies interpret the gender stereotype of the pony cartoon characters (or lack thereof)?                                                             According to Claire Burdfield "Riley Kilo, a Brony and 4chan user,  stating that “people were attracted to the cuteness of the pony avatars”.(Burdfield, 2017)                                                             This essay assumes that this is possible because the animation, itself, allows the bodies of the characters to be reshaped in ways that transgress conventional barriers of sexuality and allow viewers a much wider scope in which to explore alternative ways of seeing the place of gender identity within human society. But what the essay emphatically does not accept is the fact that Bronylore identifies potentially transgressive themes in My Little Pony, develops them in deliberately uncomfortable ways, and neatly adapts them to real-life issues relevant to its followers’ social and psychological lives. With this, this sites become a danger for the real target group, this still unformed audience of little girls and boys, who could get a misconception about the meaning of concepts such as friendship, love, cooperation, with an only one wrong click on such a site - something that the creators of the animated series would definitely not want to happen.

With all of the above, an attempt was made to look into the world of modern animation by comparing existing gender and behavioral stereotypes in society and their reflection in the children's animated series "Powerful Girls" and "My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic".

- Descriptive and comparative methods were used, as well as semiotic analysis, to clarify the role of composition as a natural environment where the characters operate and supporting factor for their behaviour.

- By comparing relationships: girls (courage, strength) / boys (defeat); young (energy, opportunities) / old (weakness, incompetence, helplessness, infantilism) were challenged some of the stereotypes in society.

Other existing understandings were challenged, such as that female beauty and glamorous appearance does not necessarily mean that women are stupid or girl's brilliance and beauty as more necessary than knowledge and learning.

- Through historical review and documentary facts, the terms "Second Wave Feminism" and "Third Wave Feminism" were examined and compared, and evidence of their impact on the creation of the cartoon characters Bubbles, Blossom and Buttercup was applied.

- The question of why (and whether it is correct) to use "non-heteronormative" gender in villainous roles was answered as part of a broader discussion of the relationship: gender - social behaviour. The essay defended the position that it is not gender that makes a character good or bad, but his social behavior. This also protected the rights of certain social groups, such as Queer society.

- Using modern data, in a broader context were analysed some manifestations of the subculture, which arose as a result of the impact of the animated characters from the series "My little pony: Friendship is magic" on certain social groups. An answer was given to the question of what provokes these certain groups of fans to self-identify as "Bronies" and to create digital content on specialised sites.

After the whole study, the academic literature and working on this essay, my belief that I wanted to practice animation became even stronger. I have the feeling that one of the most prominent schools in the world for training of such significant contemporary animators as Craig McCracken, Lauren Faust, Genndy Tartakovsky (Dexter's Laboratory, 1996) and a decade later - Pendleton Ward ( Adventure Time, 2010) is the California Institute of the Arts (CalArts) and my desire to deepen my knowledge, moving forward with a master's degree in animation, takes me exactly there. Moreover, Cartoon Network Studios (my most dreamed workplace as a future practitioner) is also located there, in California. Of course, it's just a dream for now, but as Bubbles said : "You should do what you want to do." And Blossom would add : "Being a Powerpuff Girl isn't about getting your way...It's about using your own unique abilities to help people and the world we all live in."                                                                                                                         

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● Alex J Taylor, Mr Magoo and Modern Art, Oxford Art Journal, Volume 42, Issue 3, December 2019, Pages 412–414, https://doi-org.ezproxy.herts.ac.uk/10.1093/oxartj/kcz015

● BBC, (2020), Second Wave Feminism, [Online], Available at: https://www.bbc.co.uk/archive/second-wave-feminism/zdhw382?fbclid=IwAR0CgNwQQ01Zx8KZTs7OXpt2zQ7x7b3baPrH2J2zYOnpu2lF2pLsMPqmjfA  , [Accessed 18 Oct.2020]

● Burdfield C.,(2017), A brief  history of the 4chan ‘Pony Wars, [Online], Available at: https://cstonline.net/a-brief-history-of-the-4chan-pony-wars-by-claire-burdfield/?fbclid=IwAR1nWN411GjOsah3AFcDgEsxgAOM5iWgzLtKdORGKHxjKWeQLEoKnbFHxZs  ,  [Accessed 18 Oct.2020]

● ELLIS, B., 2015. What Bronies See When They Brohoof: Queering Animation on the Dark and Evil Internet. Journal of American Folklore, 128(509), pp. 298-314,369-370.

● Goodreads, (2020), Queer, [Online], Available at: https://www.goodreads.com/genres/queer?fbclid=IwAR0UXLjDqiOC_Hk2RwrLglZcMY2G6iPFofxJMlsiTsuwq1oQOvzifXNx1ZU  , [Accessed 18 Oct.2020]

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● Hager Lisa, (2008), Saving the World Before Bedtime : The Powerpuff Girls, Citizenship, and the Little Girl Superhero, Children's Literature Association Quarterly Volume 33, Number 1, Spring 2008 Johns Hopkins University Press , Article

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●  Santos, G., Mancio, C. P., & Maranho, E. (2019). Queer representation incorporated at “Him”, character of “The Powerpuff Girls". Journal of Science and Technology of the Arts, 11(1), 11-21. https://doi.org/10.7559/citarj.v11i1.588

● Schmidt G.,(2016), Cartoon Network’s Powerpuff Girls Fight Evil on TV and Beyond, [Online], Available at: https://www.nytimes.com/2016/04/04/business/media/cartoon-networks-powerpuff-girls-fight-evil-on-tv-and-beyond.html?fbclid=IwAR262Wmc4CU-5uN33JczcQnvr8Q7BOc9PXKi7UNp0O_gpxouSz3vnO8foOs , [Accessed 18 Oct. 2020]

● The Take,(2020), Is the character HIM from “The Powerpuff Girls” transgender? [Online], Available at: https://the-take.com/watch/is-the-character-him-from-the-powerpuff-girls-transgender?fbclid=IwAR3Ubj88aK55Zv4MY_tD5vapAdZGq8KmbBom0fHjnA1KYBZJwjPYH82UdUA , [Assecced 18 Oct.2020]

● Wineman D.,(1998), SIGNOFF; Never Underestimate the Power of a Puff, [Online], Available at: https://www.nytimes.com/1998/11/15/tv/signoff-never-underestimate-the-power-of-a-puff.html?fbclid=IwAR0ylJhQJ11WVzoTKHq7GR-wyIXjix6uMDv8TrXvFUEMdIZxz5eCdDbuus4  , [Assecced 18 Oct.2020]

LIST OF ILLUSTRATION :

Fig.1. The City of Townsville [online image] Available at: https://powerpuffgirls.fandom.com/wiki/Townsville?fbclid=IwAR3K_KazdzNZdCXBLY89bcQVCf4ffktRpe5P4Q4yCK-gNFobQ1fgmw6RJls , [Accessed 15 Oct 2020]

Fig.2. Ponyville [online image] Available at:

https://mlp.fandom.com/wiki/Ponyville?fbclid=IwAR3N6cqy-H-xhT9kjoe4w7OwDzoqfreRRaqxBeiSeDYJBpOm5JELMcjo0D8 , [Accessed 15 Oct 2020]

Fig.3. The bedroom of Powerpuff Girls [online image] Available at: https://weheartit.com/entry/327702990

[Accessed 15 Oct 2020]

Fig.4. Fluttershy's bedroom [online image] Available at: https://www.derpibooru.org/1144404 ,

[Accessed 15 Oct 2020]

Fig.5. Atmosphere composition : Rainy, Cloudy, Sunny, Underwater, Outer Space, Smoky, Foggy, Dusty [online image] Available at: https://madoddball.tumblr.com/post/635218255016067072/how-the-animation-series-powerpuff-girls-and-my?fbclid=IwAR2wYp-NQXROdoxU8QWJTZnU86s0yLL2PX8RC2yVttpN3FXXgYllI-eEDMM , [Accessed 9 Dec 2020]

Fig.6. Sedusa, Him, Big Billy, The Mayor of Townsville, [online image] Available at: https://madoddball.tumblr.com/post/635218255016067072/how-the-animation-series-powerpuff-girls-and-my?fbclid=IwAR2wYp-NQXROdoxU8QWJTZnU86s0yLL2PX8RC2yVttpN3FXXgYllI-eEDMM , [Accessed 9 Dec 2020]

Fig.7. Miss Sara Bellum, [online image] Available at: https://madoddball.tumblr.com/post/635218255016067072/how-the-animation-series-powerpuff-girls-and-my?fbclid=IwAR2wYp-NQXROdoxU8QWJTZnU86s0yLL2PX8RC2yVttpN3FXXgYllI-eEDMM , [Accessed 9 Dec 2020]

Fig.8. Gangreen Gang I, [online image] Available at: https://madoddball.tumblr.com/post/635218255016067072/how-the-animation-series-powerpuff-girls-and-my?fbclid=IwAR2wYp-NQXROdoxU8QWJTZnU86s0yLL2PX8RC2yVttpN3FXXgYllI-eEDMM , [Accessed 9 Dec 2020]

Fig.9. Him I, [online image] Available at: https://madoddball.tumblr.com/post/635218255016067072/how-the-animation-series-powerpuff-girls-and-my?fbclid=IwAR2wYp-NQXROdoxU8QWJTZnU86s0yLL2PX8RC2yVttpN3FXXgYllI-eEDMM , [Accessed 9 Dec 2020]

Fig.10. Powerpuff Girls [online image] Available at: https://thefluffybunch.fandom.com/wiki/The_Powerpuff_Girls , [Accessed 15 Oct 2020]

Fig.11. Spice Girls [online image] Available at: https://www.eonline.com/news/1042491/every-time-the-spice-girls-playfully-shaded-victoria-beckham-over-skipping-their-reunion-tour  , [Accessed 15 Oct.2020]

Fig.12. Miss Sara Bellum’s head [online image] Available at: https://powerpuffgirls.fandom.com/wiki/Sara_Bellum_(1998_TV_series)?fbclid=IwAR28VwKq-1fvlplwTQKAdbVC7TaXwe-ChTXnl0vUTWCSMrWrumKMK15Q2X8 , [Accessed 15 Oct 2020]

Fig.13. Gangreen Gang II [online image] Available at: https://powerpuffgirls.fandom.com/wiki/The_Gangreen_Gang/Gallery?file=Gangreen_Gang_laugh.jpg  , [Accessed 15 Oct 2020]

Fig.14. Mojo Jojo [online image] Available at: https://powerpuffgirls.fandom.com/wiki/Mojo_Jojo_(1998_TV_series)?fbclid=IwAR0Tieaf6nn877NUbcMH2Y5yhrETvy3Ggg381DVl6PH66J_XOlC92DvDPAk , [Accessed 15 Oct 2020]

Fig.15. Him II [online image] Available at: https://powerpuffgirls.fandom.com/wiki/HIM?fbclid=IwAR3xrLszNdwPo_m9dyqOUqcafQVvGO_cwcNxtc0W-i2LzI8EiskxkSMxv4Y  , [Accessed 15 Oct 2020]

Fig.16. My Little Pony : Friendship Is Magic [online image] Available at : https://mlp.fandom.com/wiki/My_Little_Pony_Friendship_is_Magic , Accessed 15 Oct 2020]

VIDEO SOURCE :

10 Things I Hate About You: Kat, Rom-Com Feminist (2020),video, The Take, Available at : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3XevO7MCmGY&t=984s , [Accessed 9 November 2020]

          Status: Submitted 

All content copyright © 2020 v_onyeukwu

Don’t be a Couladin

For those who are complaining that diversity requires straight white men... Let me give an analogy here.

TL;DR -  Should you create? Hell yes. Have at it. I'm a firm believer that the more, the merrier. But also acknowledge that you have additional privilege that many marginalized voices lack.

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

There are 100 Aiel Warriors in a hold. The Roofmistress makes 100 bowls of stew for everyone. The first served are the 51 Aethan Dor. Second behind them are the 49 Far Darais Mai. The Roofmistress is abundantly generous, saying that the Red Shields can have more in their bowl because “they’ve always gotten bigger portions” to where those 100 bowls turn into just enough for 3 bowls of stew to be shared among the 49 Maidens.

This is seen in Aiel society as acceptable sharing, especially by the Clan Chiefs. The Maidens complain to the Wise Ones who do what we can to make things anywhere close to equitable. It’s never truly equitable but it’s a start.

You, a Shaido Seia Doon with a huge chip on his head and a bee in his ear, complains that you’re entitled to be given 3 bowls of stew, taking it from the Maidens, on account that he thinks he’s being slighted and insulted by not receiving the first servings, He says that Maidens can subsist on old cheese and stale flatbread, which he then demands that they make space for him so he can partake of the cheese, flatbread, and water, leaving little to nothing for anyone else.

All because he feels disrespected, not included, and not the center of attention.

He won’t take from the Red Shields because they are viewed as being equals but he will demand what the Maidens give up their share, their voice, and space, because he deserves it, and should be treated like an honored guest - even after insulting the Roofmistress. He insists that his demands for the food, water, and shade are fair, that he’s received such from other Holds, and that the previous Roofmistress catered to his every whim.

In short, it’s narcissism, that Coladin’s wants override everyone else’s needs. His self-importance over-rides everything else, much to the detriment of other people in need.

Feeding a constantly insatiable appetite where it’s never enough to feed your demands of media consumption when others try to have a small morsel isn’t acceptable. Others are allowed their own voice, their own niche, their own media for consumption.

You think it’s about representation. Nope. It’s about Power & Control. It’s about feeding into a personal need for over-abundance - and refusing to share or make space for others.

You’re upset that the narrative has shifted, to where others don’t hold you as the center of their attention, that you aren’t the focus of, well, everything.

That's not how it works.

While it's not a Zero sum game, it's also a selfish distraction and takes attention from those who are looking for content from others who aren't straight white males. It's being narcissistic in that you demand being the center of attention, that anything you create be given priority because you perceive that you aren't included and your viewpoints should be represented when... it's far from true. Your demands are an attempt to drown out others who are intentionally searching for content created by those who aren't straight white males. But you are demanding that you be included because you perceive that additional content that is made isn't catered to you and your wants. You insist being included when you already have benefits of being favored.

You insist that the perceived contract continue, that you continue to be favored and your wants catered to. You demand that everything should be what you want - and leave nothing for anyone else.

You demand that you are the Car’a’carn when you were rude, disrespectful, and far from humble towards those who do hold the keys to the Hold - even when you’ve been denied by Wise Ones the trip to Rhuidean.

The paradigm changed years ago.

Let me give more examples. Of the 13 largest financially successful movie franchises... only 1 (Yes, one!) has a protagonist that is someone who isn't a Straight White Male. That is... less than 8%. (It's Fast & the Furious, with Vin Diesel, who is mixed heritage.))

Even top 20 of most successful money maker movies... 4 are with Black men as protagonists (and 2 of them are of the Fast & Furious series.) The other two are the Lion King remake and Black Panther. 

No women protagonists were on the list. No Black or Asian or Indigenous women were on the list.

Video games.... catered to white men. Biggest name published writers... majority are straight white men. It’s a rare one that you can customize your PC as something other than default. (Thinking Mass Effect and the coming Baldur’s Gate 3) 

Most games (*the exception being Minecraft) are geared towards “I’m the hero of the story” and the expectation bleeds over into the entitlement of “I should be the focus of all media I consume” and if you aren’t catered to, the white guy isn’t the hero but an actual villain, the tantrum is enough to change the course of movie history.

Almost every Chosen One protagonist is... straight white guy. Frodo. Luke. Superman. Batman. Captain America. Iron Man.

Namely, all the lucrative media is geared towards... straight white men, written by straight white men, for straight white men***.

(Yes, I recognize that Jack Kirby and Stan Lee are of an immigrant heritage.)

So demanding, yes demanding, that even more media be catered for you, a straight white male, when the bulk is geared towards you, is entitled, especially when the goal of that tweet was to highlight those who aren't... .straight white men. It is a tweet for those who are specifically looking for media catered to their particular needs & wants be over-ridden and distracted from, to say "What about me? I should be included, too."

Should you create? Hell yes. Have at it. I'm a firm believer that the more, the merrier. 

But also acknowledge that you have additional privilege that, by being a straight white man, have the benefit of knowing that other men will automatically listen to you over someone who is A) Not Straight B) Not white and C) Male.

Even those doing YT content creation - thinking of a particular Goh’blin and Neh’bliss and a sassy Aes Sedai under their wig.... while they aren’t straight, they are white men. Their voices come in loud and clear when it comes to catching the ears of those who are important - and those with legit questions (including accessibility issues) are drown out by those louder privileged voices.

See a pattern? I certainly do and I’m not a Dreamer, even if I do walk the dream.

So now that I’ve expended precious dreamwalking time to explain this honestly, I hope the ones who complained vociferously will reflect on why it’s important, necessary, and vital to make space for those who aren’t, well, you.

‘Cause We’re Living in a Mad World

{ @adventurepunks​ }

(( Hiiii! I fished this out of a couple of memes I had done ages ago and...it seemed fun and it gave me the chance to ramble about stuff we mentioned, so...here you go! It’s mostly Nick and John, but I throw in some Zee because the gal deserves some space :3 ))

Who said “I love you” first Definitely John. He was either drunk or totally out of it for not having slept in days (or both) and Nick had been forced to escort his sorry ass to lie down somewhere. Among all the incomprehensible, nonsensical babbling he had been doing, at some point he had just gone on and mumbled something on the lines of “N’ aye, tha’ th’ bloody t’in’, Cap. I think I do love yeh...I bloody do”. By the time Nick had registered the non-sequitur, John had been out cold and drooling very much unattractively on his pillow, leaving his mentor to wonder, hardly for the first time, what the hell he was supposed to do about his disaster youth.

Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background Neither of them does. John doesn’t have a phone (and that’s the reason why both Nick and Zatanna dread the times he uses the one in the Sanctum to phone Chas back to London...Two hours of non-stop Scouse rambling about everything one can find worth complaining about). As for Nick, he simply doesn’t bother with such things. However, John has one, slightly creased picture of him and Nick (a Polaroid taken by accident by some tourist who had been nice enough to hand it over to John) and another with the two them and Zee glued against the wall of his bedroom, right next to a group photograph of his closest English mates, a picture of him and Chas and a black and white one of a younger Cheryl. Also, Zatanna has made sure to have a better, properly framed picture of the three of them hanging inconspicuously from one of the walls in the main room of the Sanctum, not enough to catch the eye, but in a position that makes sure that you must look at it if you know that it’s there. Nick never acknowledged any of those, but you might catch his eyes wandering in the direction of the pictures every time he is in the room with them (yes, at times he dares to wonder in that reign of chaos that’s John’s bedroom).

Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror John...when he is trying to be funny. Usually he writes the messages on some other window or piece of glass and then magicks them on the bathroom mirror when he knows that either Nick or Zatanna are inside. Of course, he doesn’t always get it right and at times the wrong person receives a message that wasn’t intended for them. Like Nick finding questions about women lingerie (he never asks, because he is pretty sure that, whatever John wants with it, it’s not something he wants to know or guess). The most memorable mishap, at least in Zee’s opinion, has been when, after having come back from one of her shows at 3 am and after a very much earned shower, she had found herself staring at the suddenly foggy mirror while the words “wudl u shag me een if I ws a gost?” materialised on it. Judging by the bad spelling and by how smeared the calligraphy was, John had to be shitface drunk, wherever he was. Not that the fact excused him in her eyes. Not in the least. She had marched out of the bathroom, told Nick that John wanted to talk to him and then had gone to bed. Useless to say, Nick had gone from confused to extremely unimpressed as soon as he had seen the note on the mirror.

Who buys steals the other cheesy gifts John is the one who, from time to time, comes back from his wanderings bearing “gifts”, pretty much like a not so domesticated cat would do. Thankfully, usually they aren’t dead animals (aside that one time with the still dripping goat’s head...but they don’t talk about it). They range from things he has won at the poker table to stuff he has either con out of someone’s hands or straight out nicked. He has learnt pretty quickly that he can’t tell Zatanna if he’s giving her something he has stolen, not after the one time she has forced him to return the necklace he had got her, much to his annoyance and embarrassment. This has also caused him to get more stuff for Nick than for her. She’s always suspicious now (and with reasons), while his mentor doesn’t really care how he has got his hands on it. The only one time the older sorcerer has shown concern about John’s kleptomaniac habits has been when the younger man brought home a very ancient, very valuable, and also very cursed book. The cleansing ritual took them hours. However, on the other hand, it turned out that the contents of said tome were very much worth the trouble, so John got away with just a mild scolding, much to Zatanna’s incredulity.

Who initiated the first kiss Nick did...after John had driven him crazy with half angry flirting and ambiguous provocations (and talks about shagging ghosts). The whole situation had started from a lot of unresolved tension between them (and not of the good kind), but considering where it has landed them...It might as well have been worth it, even if the original issue lies still mostly unsolved.

Who kisses the other awake in the morning If anyone does in the first place, it would probably be Nick, for the mere reason that John isn’t an early bird (unless he simply forgoes sleeping completely), no matter in whose bed he falls asleep. However, it’s still far more likely that Nick chooses to wakes him up by shaking him or with a shove, simply because something as light as a kiss wouldn’t do the job. Or it would lead to John getting his hands busy even before he has opened his eyes and that’s unacceptable when they have a schedule and lessons to attend to. A few times, John has crawled in Nick’s bed before dawn and, in those occasions, he is the one to wake his mentor up with kisses. There’s an equal chance of either being kicked out of the room pr being allowed to carry on, and, in his eyes, the second thing is definitely worth facing the risk of rejection. John usually gets his nicest wake up calls from Zatanna, when she lures him out of the sheets with a kiss on the cheek and the promising smell of coffee and bacon. She has also learnt to throw a fresh pair of underwear in his face before walking back to the kitchen, though, because that’s the only way to make sure he doesn't show up stark nake for breakfast.

Who starts tickle fights Tickle fights aren’t something that happens frequently, but they did happen. Mostly when they were all at least a bit tipsy. John started the very first one, almost accidentally, by rambling about how Cheryl used to tickle him till he cried and couldn’t breathe as a payback for when he messed with her things. Useless to say, that led him to ask Zatanna if she was ticklish and to the poor homo magi being assaulted. Nick had made the mistake to declare that he found the whole affair “undignified”, which had been enough to make John tackle and tickle him too. Zatanna might have retaliate, on them both (John for starting it, Nick for not defending her), even though, if asked, she would deny it. After that episode, both Zatanna and Nick have become very, very wary of whenever John is drunk and feeling both touchy-feely and playful. Of course, he still manages to find a way to catch them both off guard.

Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower John’s “asking” consists in him sticking his head inside the bathroom (or straight past the shower curtain) and make comments about how there’s just enough room for another person under the stream or about how great he is at scrubbing backs, full trademark smirk in place. Nick usually asks before anyone gets in the shower and it usually happens after a very intense roll in the sheet when all the participants might use a wash up. However, there have been times when he has just hopped in the shower while John was already in it, without warnings or questions, because the smug idiot can use a taste of his own medicine from time to time. The main issue with that tact is that John, after the initial moment of astonishment, always gets a bit too mesmerised to really grasp the lesson.

Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch Nick can get completely absorbed in his studying and researches and John at times forgets that human beings need to eat to survive, so it’s definitely Zee. When she is around, she makes sure to bring them both, if not a full meal, at least a snack twice a day. She has found that it usually also prevents John from raiding their fridge during the night and, considering how messy that affair gets, it’s a very good thing. When Zatanna isn’t around, Nick is the one who has a more “regular” (if it can be called that) routine, so he takes over the task of keeping them both fed (also because John can’t be trusted around the kitchen at). There are times, though, when John knocks at Nick’s door, after making sure that the older man is done with whatever he’s doing, with takeaway already laid down at the table or saying that he has discovered a new pub that makes nice steaks or pizza and that they should totally go and try it out.

Who was nervous and shy on the first date Definitely John, even if, as per usual, he covered it up with cockiness and smugness. Especially since he felt like a idiot for being nervous in the first place. He and Nick had gone out plenty of times together (with and without Zatanna), so sharing a night that was perhaps a bit more intimate shouldn’t have been such a big deal. And yet, he still spent an incredibly long amount of time (especially for his standards) tidying himself up in the bathroom and deciding which of his clothes were more suitable for the occasion. It earned him a few raised eyebrows from Nick’s part, which made it clear to them both that the older man knew, but John obviously refused to acknowledge both the gestures and the fact.

Who kills/takes out the spiders Spiders are usually either left to mind their business. Zatanna might use her magic to coax them out of a window when they are in the way, but for the rest no one really cares. It doesn’t happen too often that they manage to get inside the Sanctum, so when they do...it’s safe to say that they have earned their right to stay. There are times, though, when the poor creatures become the unfortunate subjects of John’s practice. Once he has learnt how to open portals towards other realms, it has become very much not unusual to see him trying to shove the spiders inside very small rips in the fabric of reality. Nick has pointed out that he has no way to find out whether or not he has managed to send them where he was planning to, but he has soon given up trying to make John see his point, because his words always earn him nothing but a snicker.

Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk John, even if calling his drunk claims “love declarations” would be pushing it. For the most, what leaves his lips are comments about his and Nick alone time together and far too bold to be nice compliments. And, if he is really in the mood, also short rants about what he would love for them to do that they haven’t tried yet. Whenever magic or the undead start being thrown in the mix, Zatanna takes it as her cue to dump him in Nick’s capable, even if exasperated, hands and go spend the rest of her night elsewhere. The real slips can happen after John has ceased being loud, when his mind is more in Dreamland than on the material plane. They are quiet whispers, compared to all the noise he makes before, and that alone is very telling of how much more sincere they are.

last lovecraft post of the night because it literally is past 1:30 am but i really like the arc of the ambiguity of magic. up until this point, it’s seemingly been a corrupting force. the braithewhites obviously, but also tic and montrose (and ruby a bit, but only because christina is wielding the magic). but we’ve also seen how magic helped hannah escape the plantation and leti from tulsa. and with the finale, i think the impact of magic is largely dependent upon the wielder. and magic as a metaphor etc etc but we see when used by black women (hannah, dora, hattie, leti) it’s a liberatory force. but when wielded by men and white people generally, it’s corrupting. and i think christina’s pursuit of magic corrupted her and interferred with the things that would have brought her true fulfillment. she wanted to one up her male relatives that have excluded and disregarded her all this time, but was sucked into their cruelty and became crueler as a result. but what she really needed was to be treated as an equal and given a space to be taken seriously and to be included. to not be so lonely and isolated. and she almost had that. and thats why besides her being another buried lesbian, her death bums me out because her contributions to this arc is so fucking fascinating!!!!!!! there’s so many storylines to explore with her and so much is lost with her gone.

however, to be fair, there are a lot of really exciting transformations happening with leti. and i feel like shes been a little sidelined in fandom shit i see. when we first meet leti, shes a flighty and kind of childish young woman who is struggling to try and make an impact. she’s passionate about civil rights and refreshingly rough around the edges, but she’s unaccountable to her loved ones, and especially to ruby. and she’s constantly running to shirk the kind of responsibility that comes with sticking around. and seemingly, shes deeply afraid of allowing herself to really love those in her life because she doesn’t know if they’ll stick around (and although ruby absolutely does support her financially, it does seem like there were times ruby left her too). but by the end, she’s grounded. she’s allowed herself to love and to trust, despite knowing it won’t last forever (tic.....) and her relationship with ruby isn’t perfect, or even entirely functional, but for the the first time in her adult life she’s trying. she’s grown up and is learning to bring her loved ones along with her rather leaving them behind. and she is still able to work on behalf of the race. she doesn’t have to chose between her people and her family because the two are the same thing, and for the first time i really think her activism is rooted in raw love. knowing the difficulties and the sacrifices and the grief that entails and learning to live with it rather than run away. and there’s the possibility that she may be able to turn up for her sister for once, to start repaying her, not out of obligation. but purely out of love. and i really liked seeing that

i think hippolyta and diana work in tandem as mother and daughter, and while hippolyta’s arc didn’t undergo a major transformation other than demonstrating her growing rather than shrinking, i think diana’s is mixed, but interesting. for one, i do appreciate diana being able to be angry. because she deserves to be. she lost her friend and her father and her fucking arm. she almost lost her mom. and everyone she depended on failed her and she almost died as a result. she was terrified and alone and it was because the adults in her life were not accountable to her and because they put their own needs and wants over hers. she’s just a kid and i think she’s acting on impulse. she doesn’t have the wisdom hippolyta has (obviously) or leti’s burgeoning maturity or ruby’s sense of duty. shes an angry and hurt kid lashing out at the person who she sees (and who is) in part responsible for so much of her suffering. by default, her future is ambiguous. her actions are ambiguous. because she doesn’t really know (of course, as i said, this could have been demonstrated without killing christina). but it’s fascinating and i do understand it.

and ji-ah...like she was clearly never really evil to begin with, but shes always been unsure of herself as well. this is still new for her and she still lives with the weight of her actions. i think her assisting leti was really beautiful to see and a nice representation of the struggle against white supremacy and what it requires, and i think she is still finding her own sense of self and understanding her own character. but i’d imagine her losing all three of the people that ever loved her is really hard on her. she couldn’t save young-ja (young-ja sacrificed to save her actually), she couldn’t save tic (who also sacrificed himself), and her mother has passed just as she really allowed herself to love her again. so she’s in a really tough spot. she still very much has a long road ahead of her. it’s all very fascinating and im glad im able to witness it, despite the flaws

A Hit Dog Will Holler by Inda Craig-Galvan Makes A Lot Of Noise At TSU

This play gets inside our heads to show us a disturbing truth right outside our doors. @theatre_tsu

By Ricky and Dana Young-Howze

Tennessee State University

Venmo: @rndyounghowze

Review 214

Back in the “before times” when Dana and I would travel by train everywhere we always felt silly by the way oncoming trains on the platform would spook us. When you’re standing on the platform and an express train is coming through it is speeding past you full tilt with a lot of wind whipping in its wake. It makes a cacophonous sound that makes your ears ring. Dana and I always jump back and cover our ears as the screaming metal tube rushes past. The natives of Urban New Jersey don’t even flinch. We have felt our faces go red as people look at us like we’re weird. That is exactly how Dana explained to me this mind shattering sound that the two characters of A Hit Dog Will Holler by Inda Craig-Galvan hear as they try to open their front door. This play directed by Professor David Lee at Tennessee State University told the story of two Black Women who are afraid to leave the house because an apocalyptic sound that only they hear haunts them outside.

Right away the directing choices were equally strange and intriguing. I feel that Zoom was made for plays with two actors owning the space. In that case our director gave it their very best. They gave them some space to move and get their energy going. However some of the camera angles and narration were a little confusing. If we have the ability to show a character using a coffee machine then why do we need to have a narrator telling us what the onscreen actor is doing? Why not show us? We absolutely understand that with some magic realism we may want to hear a narrator to nudge us into the idea that we are watching a play. If that's the case then next time we may need to see something that lets us know this choice is being made. There are some little details that can be added that can tell the audience if something is intentional and make it part of the world so that doubts never enter our minds.

The attempt to put magic reality on an already unrealistic digital stage was very ambitious. The advances that have been made in Zoom Theatre to make it look like actors are in one three dimensional space with its own atmosphere and geography. Now the designer has gone even further and tried to shake what we know about that like a snow globe and shake things up. This was easily accomplished with the magic of greenscreen but we saw quickly that there were physical elements of the set too. That requires some forethought and a little skill to make all of that look unified. Even when you want to kick us out of what we assume we know about the space you don’t want us scratching our heads. By keeping a consistent design this all still looked like one world.

I was taken aback by some of the digital effects that kinda set off my Tourettes. This is the first time ever that I’m grateful that this happened (though a better trigger warning for neurodiverse audiences would have been helpful). I had to shield my eyes and try to stop myself from being triggered. That gave me a tiny little sliver of empathy for our two characters. If those things flashed in front of my eyes everytime I opened the door I would have a serious physical response that wouldn’t allow me to leave. In that sense they were effective and jarring and very well designed. Dana loved the chaotic nature of them and that we completely understood the effect they had on the story immediately. If we looked closer at them we may have found some layers and nuances that we wouldn’t have had before. However they were so cleverly designed that with even two seconds of screen time we got all we needed.

We immediately believed the chemistry between our two performers. They used their space well and gave us a lot of really great moments. The thing that stuck out for us is that they supported each other. For only two performers this truly felt like an ensemble piece. That made this play that much easier to watch. The actresses had a hard go at breaking the fifth wall. This new style of acting is very hard. We’ve seen seasoned professionals have trouble. The fact that they kept such a strong energy and were able to make us feel even a little of it all the way in New Jersey deserves a round of applause. I hope that we never have to go through a pandemic again. I also hope that the lessons these performers have learned, the battle scars they’ve earned, will never be forgotten.

The biggest compliment that I can give this play is that it perfectly illustrates the thing that divides Dana and I even though we have known each other for almost a decade. Living with Dana for so long I have grown sensitive to the millions everyday moments of racism that can occur daily. I can write an entire thesis about how white supremacy is still dug into our society and some things we can do to root it out. However I cannot have that little voice in Dana’s head that lets them know that they are black every time they walk outside the house. I can’t have that awareness of all the white eyes on them everytime that they’re out in public. There have been innocuous things that have happened in our lives that didn’t impact me at all that made them feel unsafe enough to want to leave. I knew that this existed but this play put it right out in front of me to see as clear as day. For that object lesson I am eternally grateful.

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Chess of Ice 3 [Finale]

Read the Original 

Read the Sequel

➜ Words: 14.9k

➜ Genres: 70% Fluff, 30% Angst, Sports!AU

➜ Summary: Jeon Jungkook is a star, aka. a valued member of one of the best mixed curling teams in the world. He has everything he could’ve ever asked for and more — a family in the sport that he’s grown to love, his beloved girlfriend whom he adores, and the fact that made it. He’s finally here at the Olympics. All his dreams have been fulfilled. But when he comes face to face with the people of the past, he comes to question if this what he imagined his dreams to be like.

➜ Warnings: implied smut

He keeps himself going.   The roars pierce through his muffled hearing, the audience going wild. The coldness of the ice wafts over, making the air frigid. His breath is seen each time he exhales, cheeks becoming rosy in the cold. He can’t feel anything, not his hands or the tip of his nose. The edges of his fingers tingle, mind tickling pleasantly. This is where he’s meant to be, where he worked so hard to get to.   The neon lights are flashing, reminding him of strobe lights at a club and it blinds his vision completely, but Jungkook welcomes it. The cheers are loud in the stadium, echoing in every corner and leaving no space untouched with sound. The music is deafening as well and he feels like a world famous superstar stepping out like this. There’s so much going on that Jungkook can barely focus, but he forces himself to keep walking and not freeze up on television like some idiot.   He can’t believe he’s here.   “Oh my god.” Yoonji is rapidly blinking, rendered speechless and it’s not like her to be like this.   Taehyung’s mouth has dropped to the floor, welcoming flies on the palette of his tongue. “This is amazing.”   “Wave, you guys!” You’re chirpy, grinning and jumping on the spot. The camera pans over, announcing your country over the intercom and everyone gives big waves. Yoonji jumps on top of Taehyung like she’s tackling him and she looks the happiest she’s ever been. Everyone’s laughing and waving their arms over their heads, bubbling with excitement and as eager as Jungkook is, he muses how cute everyone else is being.   The parade continues. The ice-skaters ahead are holding the country’s flag, letting the fabric flutter in the air. Jungkook keeps walking, trying to let it sink in that this was indeed the opening ceremony, that he was in Beijing, that this was the Olympics.   He knocks his head back, staring up at the stars that are almost drowned out by the lights, how there are millions of people surrounding him, how he can’t seem them all individually. Their screams are passionate, full of vigor, and everything is breathtaking. But for a moment, something catches in Jungkook’s peripheral vision, a group of guys that are familiar, that he used to know well, standing a few meters away. He looks away in a millisecond, afraid to confirm his suspicions.   Instead, Jungkook focuses on you.   “I can’t believe we’re here.”   “I know, it’s amazing, isn’t it?”   The boy has the urge to kiss your soft lips, wrap his arms around your waist, lean you back till you’re on a single foot and grabbing onto him not to fall, and he’s smothering your yelp, relishing how tightly you’d latch onto him. But he resists and reaches over to hold your hand instead.   Your palm immediately welcomes his, fingers lacing together as normal and you squeeze, coming to stand with your country.   Namjoon and Adora are standing by as well, equally enthusiastic and bursting with awe. All of you are only able to stand here after two years of top performance, shedding blood, sweat and tears. It was through hard work that you scrapped a victory at the World Mixed Doubles Curling Championships, coming out as the winner.    It wasn’t easy in the least bit and unfortunately, the men’s and women’s curling team got cut a few months beforehand. Another group outside of Namjoon and Adora’s coaching was representing the country instead in those categories. But they still rooted for you, some at home and others here sitting in the stadium. There was a lot of pressure to give it your best shot and while Jungkook was excited, he was scared.   Only by standing next to you are his nerves eased.   “Take a look at that,” Taehyung’s leaning over to shout above the ear-piercing music. No one can hear well, but he points to a lean figure skater from Finland standing ahead of you.   “What?” Yoonji screams above the celebratory music and building snare drum. “I can’t hear you!”   “I said take a look at that!”   “Take a load of what?!”   “Take a load of that! Wait- no, take a look!” Taehyung’s throat is straining in blood-curdling shouts, veins popping out as his face reddens. “She’s hot!”   “You’re feeling hot?! You have a fever?!” Instead of being concerned, Yoonji is pissed off like his potential illness will inhibit the team’s performance. “What the fuck!”   “No!”   Adora leans over. “Can you guys shut up?!”   Namjoon who’s standing right beside her turns his head towards her. “What?”   “I said shut up!”   “What?!”   “Shut up!” The female coach is shrieking and the ski jumpers look over at the ruckus.   “What?” This time, Namjoon accidentally lets his grin slip, making it known that he’s purposely playing dumb. Adora stands back, rolling her eyes and probably mumbling a thousand curses. In the meanwhile, Yoonji and Taehyung are still confused and Jungkook exchanges an expression with you. The pair of you burst into laughter.   Once the parade is over, everybody takes their seats and the performances continue. It’s definitely entertainment, watching skaters glide on the ice, dancing to songs while mascots coming out to greet everyone. When it’s time for the fireworks, Jungkook slings an arm around your shoulders and you cuddle into him, watching the magnificent show.   He’s proud, content. All of you finally made it.   //   It’s an unusually relaxed atmosphere. It’s simple to assume that everyone would be at their most tense, surrounded in their competitors, so close yet too far from their victory. But it’s not like that at all — for most athletes that’ve had intense lifestyles up to this point, hours of practice and restricted diets. The Olympic village is the most freedom they get.    No reporters. No family. No prying eyes.   It’s Disneyland and summer camp combined into one.   Athletes can roam however they choose without many constraints. Everyone made it this far after all, they deserve to relish in every bit of it. And it’s not like much practice can be done once you’re here. Even Adora and Namjoon are at ease, savouring this moment of paradise.    You and Yoonji take the liberty of wandering around and checking out all the facilities that are available in the village. There’s shopping centers, stores, a beauty salon and a million condom dispenser machines— “You gotta cover your stump before you hump,” Yoonji passingly comments and when you make a disgusted expression, she scoffs. “Don’t act like you and Jeon don’t go at it.”   You mumble how it’s not anyone’s business what your private relationship’s like and she gives you a look of disbelief as you enter the grand dining hall. Quickly, your attention is brought back to your surroundings and you’re amazed once more.    Yoonji, on the other hand, has eyes for something else. “Oh lord, would you take a look at that hunk over there.”   She’s not even whispering, openly ogling and she has to suck back in her saliva pooling in her mouth. Yoonji’s staring directly at the male Chinese bobsleigh team like a tigress about to pounce on a group of antelopes. They’re gathered in a group by a cafeteria table, laughing and goofing off like a normal bunch of guys, but testosterone is practically emanating off their muscular biceps, aura amplified by ten when they’re together. Everyone who likes a little dick is staring at them with half-lidded eyes, nearly bumping into pillars and chairs.    “Yoonji,” you roughly mutter her name in embarrassment. “We’re not here to window shop for guys.”   “Damn straight we’re not.” She rolls up the sleeves of her black tracksuit jacket to her elbow as if she’s about to do some laborious work. “I’m about to make a purchase.”   You ignore her. “Yoonji.”   She crosses her arms and turns to you with a scoff. “Don’t act like you’re so innocent, Miss. how-many-times-can-you-have-sex-in-a-day.”   Your entire face heats like a furnace. “I’m never letting you google anything on my phone again.”   “You should learn how to erase your history, it might help.” Yoonji is amused, wearing an endeared and humoured expression much to your dismay. But she doesn’t allow the topic to change and nudges you. “C’mon. You gotta admit there’re hunks everywhere. And you know they’re in great shape and got great bodies underneath all that clothes too.”   It’s not a myth that a lot of sexual intercourse happens at the Olympics — you’ve heard your fair share of stories and it seemed like some people were already getting a head start on it. It’s obvious with the way some are pulling others along and there are a handful who have stopped by the free condom dispenser.   “I guess….that guy seems nice.”   Yoonji follows your line of sight towards a snowboarder who caught your eye earlier at the parade. He’s lean and tall, cute face with big, doe eyes. “You got a type, don’t you, Y/N?” she muses with a smirk and scans him from his head to his toes. “But I can appreciate this. What is he? Six feet two? And what are those colours? Sweden? Damn. I bet he has a big coc—”   “What’s going on?”   The two of you are interrupted by your boyfriend who slings an arm around your shoulders.   “Hey.” Your entire face unintentionally lights up at the sight of him and he grins. Jungkook’s chest feels warm and instead of responding to you in words, he leans in to plant a chaste kiss in your lips as a greeting. It’s soft and fast, saving any real intimacy for later.   Yoonji’s nose wrinkles and she looks like she bit into a lemon. “Ugh, right in front of my salad?”   The pair of you ignore her and Jungkook looks straight ahead to see what you were both intently staring at. “What were you talking about?”   “Y/N was just saying how hot that Swedish snowboarder is.” Her chin motions to the poor, unsuspecting athlete who’s just picking out some chicken breasts at the buffet table to snack on.   “I didn’t say he was cute!” you defend. “I said he was….nice.”   “He’s a whole damn meal, you got that right.” She slyly smirks and nudges you again. “You should go talk to him.”   “What?” You’re shy, directing your vision away from the snowboarder wearing his blue and yellow tracksuit that seems all too tight in all the right places. “I’m not going to talk to him, Yoonji.”   Her brows lift. “Why not?”   Jungkook clears his throat obnoxiously loud and pulls you closer, arm still on your shoulder and now the side of your body pressing into his comfortingly. “Excuse me, I think you’re forgetting I’m standing right here.”   “No one cares about your possessiveness, Jeon. Let your girlfriend play a little. This is the Olympics for god sakes. What happens here stays here. Better yet, if you want to join in the fun so badly, just have a threesome. Don’t you want to be a little more adventurous in your relationship?”   “No, thanks,” you interrupt.   “We have all the adventure we need.” With his free arm, his hand slips into his jacket pocket and out comes two condoms between his fingers as if he’s revealing his secret weapon. Jungkook glances at you and winks, making you sheepish.   Yoonji is not impressed. “Ew, can you guys be gross somewhere else?”   “Fine by me. We’re going back to the apartment then.” Jungkook lets you lead the way, cutting through the ginormous dining hall and while he holds you close and a few seconds pass, Yoonji hears him mumble, “You really thought that dude was cute?”   Your voice is fading off but Yoonji sees your smile. “I think you’re cuter.”   Yoonji scoffs. If there was anyone disgustingly cute, it was the two of you.   Of course the both of you were too oblivious to notice how a handful of girls around are openly disappointed when they find that Jungkook has a girlfriend, and how that snowboarder you commented on was staring at you from the corner of his eye before Jungkook came along.    The female curler pushes away her jealousy and psychs herself up before sauntering to the bobsled team she chose earlier.   //   “What are you doing here?”    She is not entertained whatsoever and her spitting image scoffs. “What do you mean ‘what am I doing here’? What do you think I’m here for?”   “I don’t know. Speed skating.”   “I’m here to support my lovely sister.”   “Bullshit. You’re here to pick up chicks.”   In the midst of their banter, Taehyung’s mind is boggling as he looks back and forth between the two. They’re so similar, almost like they’re the same person or like they’re talking to their own reflection. More importantly, the intimidating aura emanates in the air and sends goosebumps all over his arms. “Hey...I think the match is starting.”   They ignore him.    You approach, clad in your uniform, tracksuit jacket in the color of your country and matching the others. “Hey, Yoongi.” You smile at him and he greets you. “How was the fight?”   “Crowded, but not bad. I’m staying at a nearby hotel.” He points off in the distance as if the walls aren’t blocking the view. “So I’ll be able to catch all your matches. Since my parents couldn’t come, I have to be the Min family representative, right?”   Yoonji scowls. “Nobody asked.”    You smile, glad she has some outside support here for her. Your own parents and Jungkook’s, as well as Taehyung’s family and his entire extended family with his millions of cousins, are probably up at the stands. Namjoon and Adora are on the lower, ready to cheer you all on.   You wonder how Yoongi managed to wander into this restricted area or if he smooth talked his way in. But there’s no time to dwell as you look off at her. “You ready?”   “Course I’m ready.”   “Let’s do this then.” Taehyung bounces on spot. “Figure skating starts in two hours and I wanna make it!”   The three of you and Jungkook step out onto the ice. Seven trials in four days, two games per day, and going against seven other teams representing their country was not going to be easy. The first game was versus Norway and luckily, they were a friendly bunch who chatted about the games last time in Seoul and how the sheet seemed bumpier than usual then.   But as nice as the atmosphere was, the pressure was still on as people cheered on passionately. It wasn’t like any other game. The stakes were much higher. And these were fans that truly cared about the sport, intense. Yoongi was also rooting loudly in the stadium, voice heard all over and making people turn around to stare. His husky voice moves up to shrill screams, sounding as if he’s being murdered, taking full advantage of the situation to embarrass his sister. It’s to the point where the cameraman has to walk over and politely ask him to be quieter.   It starts off with guard shots and they also place their own guard shots, blocking a clear direct path towards the house. “Right up! Right up! Okay. Right off!”   Yoonji and Jungkook stop sweeping. The stone bumps one of the opponents off the house and cheers erupt from the stands, applause and screams, the flag lifted in the air. “That was really good, Taehyung.”   He grins, prouder of getting a compliment from you, the skip, than from spectators. “Thanks.”   He and Jungkook switch places and you exchange a serious expression with your boyfriend, gathering close to strategize. The other team goes, doing a takeout of your stone and getting their own cheers. It’s a close match. But you and Jungkook decide to continue on your defensive strategy, and to organize a draw shot.   He gets down onto one knee, positions himself and with a deep inhale, throws the rock straight towards the target. You’re low, next to him, eyes narrowed in. “Hard! Hard! Harder!”   “C’mon, Taehyung,” Yoonji encourages.   “Got this,” he mutters back, sweeping hard with the broom and putting muscle into it. It reaches the house and you scream for them to stop. The stone halts right on the button.   There’s a whole wave of cheers and you and Jungkook exchange grins.   After eight ends, the match finishes and it’s a victory for all four of you.   Finland shakes your hand, acknowledging that it was a good play.   //   “We were so good,” Yoonji emphasizes.   Taehyung adds on, “We crushed it.”   “Yeah.” Her expanding grin dies at once, lips pursing in a tight line and her eyes drooping to be half-lidded. “So I don’t get why we have to go to the gym.”   “Just cause we won a game doesn’t mean we can let our guard down.” You drop the ten pound dumbbells back onto the rack. It doesn’t help that she’s complaining incessantly when you’re trying to do some reps. Your best friend is the opposite of a motivator. “We gotta keep in shape. And haven’t you noticed? Namjoon and Adora’s been side-eyeing the two of you for piling fried chicken on your plates during dinner.”   Taehyung pouts. “It just tastes so delicious, I can’t help myself.”   “This is supposed to be paradise.” Her little body is sweating already, bob-haircut gathered into a tiny low ponytail. She’s using three pounds, grunting as she curls her arms, on her first set of them. “N-not hell. Not everyone’s like your muscle rabbit boyfriend.”   “What?”   Jungkook’s busy doing pull ups on the nearby equipment and he lands on his feet swiftly, not even breaking a sweat yet on his count of thirty four. Taehyung and Yoonji glare at him for making them look bad.   He’s a gym rat, probably the only curler with actual abs and muscular arms. It’s his hobby to workout and he relishes how exhausted his body feels after — Yoonji just says he’s a masochist who thrives on pain and a freak of nature. But you don’t mind. It’s cute how much he likes to work out and you like it if he likes it.    “Jungkook?”   The four of you are suddenly interrupted by three tall, lean males. They’re in tight tank tops and Yoonji’s brows lift. Jungkook, on the other hand, visibly pales. He turns like a robot, cranky and stiff, swallowing hard only to find his mouth dry. “J-Junmyeon?”   “Oh, dude.” Without thinking twice, he reaches over to give a half-hug and then lets go, fist-bumping Jungkook. “Thought that was you!”   “How’s it going, man? Jeez, it’s been a while.”   “I know. I’m good.” He laughs tensely and goes over to do an elaborate handshake with one of them that makes Taehyung offended and jealous that they don’t have their own special handshake. “How about you?”   “Busy, I guess.” The princely male has a sharp nose and eyebrows, but a rather kind smile.   The puppy-like boy beside the stranger has brown, ruffled hair, but a leery gaze as he scans you up and down, making you uncomfortable. “And this is…?”   “Oh, this is my curling team. Taehyung, Yoonji, and Y/N.” It’s an awkward introduction and he never thought his new world and old world would be colliding in such a way. “And these are some of my old hockey teammates I used to play with. Junmyeon, Sehun, and Baekhyun.”   “Why so formal, Jeon?” Sehun barks with laughter, rather handsome with his distinct features and dark hair, but his loud voice startles you. He throws an arm over Jungkook’s shoulder. “When was the last time we called him Junmyeon? Might as well call him Mr. Kim.”   The one in question is unamused. “Can you please stop calling me Suho? I’m not going to sue any hoes.”   He wears a shit-eating grin. “You’re not, but they’re going to sue you.”   “I thought that joke was dead.” Jungkook laughs and looks off at you three who are completely confused. He explains the joke, “He...uh...went out with a girl named Irene once and she threatened to sue him after he dumped her. Got a court order and everything. It was crazy.”   “She wasn’t just a girl.” Sehun corrects, “She was a psycho hoe.”   It’s easy to talk to them. For a second, Jungkook doesn’t know why he was so afraid of confronting his old teammates. When he speaks to them now, it’s like no time has passed.   Like nothing has changed.   “Okay, okay.” Baekhyun tries to placate the other, but he still wears a mischievous grin. “Don’t get our captain mad.”   Jungkook stands straighter, put on alert as he looks at his old friend. “Oh, you’re captain now?”   “Yeah.” Junmyeon’s smile softens, maybe even sadly. “You should come watch us at the preliminaries. We have one tomorrow at three.”   “I’ll see what I can do. But I think...uh...I have practice that day.”   Yoonji exchanges a knowing look with Taehyung at Jungkook’s remark.   “Okay, enough talk about hoes.” Sehun’s hasn’t moved on, still hung up on the other topic. He leans down slightly to whisper, as if you, Yoonji and Taehyung aren’t awkwardly standing there. “Have you seen the chicks around here, Jeon? They’re thirsty for some good dick after spending their entire lives practicing. They’ll hop on you and bend over whenever, wherever.”   “Can you guys not?” Junmyeon is once again not impressed.   He rolls his eyes. “Don’t act like you didn't break the back of that figure skater, dude. She was so fucking loud last night, I thought you were killing her.”   “Killing her with his dick, if anything,” Baekhyun snickers and then muses, “great choice though. That ass was nice. Aren’t those skaters flexible too?”   “I..ummm….” Jungkook glances at you. He doesn’t want to say anything or announce you’re his girlfriend — for one, it’s nobody's business and he doesn’t want them to call him a pussy or whipped or for them to stare at you and bombard you with a million questions. Then again, Jungkook has nothing to hide and he’s not ashamed to be in a committed relationship with you…...but the pressure gets to him and he decides playing along is just easier. “....yeah.”   You wear an impassive expression, but Yoonji’s left eye twitches.   “I know someone you’d really like,” Sehun mentions with roaring laughter. “Super cute, a little timid and innocent. Your type, right? More importantly, she got those double Ds.”   “I...I’m good.”   “What?” He smirks. “Don’t act like you don’t like that, Jeon. We saw you with Lee Soongyu.”   “She had a great body,” Baekhyun agrees. “Too bad she was clingy, huh?”   “You don’t even know. You wish you had a piece of that ass.” It tumbles out of his mouth on instinct, making the others baffled. Jungkook’s slowly getting into the flow of it again, remembering how he used to respond to these things.   Baekhyun grins, making a jab back, “At least I wouldn’t hit up her younger sister the day after. That’s just cold. Should’ve just convinced them both to go at it at the same time.”   Jungkook begins sweating, not sure how to respond to that one. At the remainder of his past self, he shifts in discomfort, feeling gross. Luckily, Junmyeon saves him. “You’re disgusting, dude. No wonder Nayeon dumped you and slapped you in front of the entire team.”   Junmyeon glances at him with a smile and Jungkook grins.   Baekhyun bites back, “At least I don’t get threatened with court orders by crazies. Listen, you gotta have some fun, Jungkook. Before—”   “C’mon.” The captain interrupts while checking his phone. “We have practice to get to.”   “Alright, alright. See you around, Jeon.”   “Bye.” He waves as they walk away and disappear after turning the corner to the men’s locker room.   There’s silence.   “I didn’t know you were in a frat, Jeon,” Yoonji enunciates his name sharply and then struts past him, making sure to purposely bump into his shoulder.   “I’m not.” He turns, voice following after her. “They’re just my old hockey team.”   You feel distant from him, disconnected, like he’s universes away and you don’t understand who it is that’s standing beside you. But once they’re gone, Jungkook’s back. He’s looking at you, lost, and you smile at him, opening your hand for him to take. “C’mon. I’ll spot you if you need me to.”   Jungkook sheepishly smiles, happily holding your hand. “Okay.”   //   The arena is cold, ice far away, but still making the air frigid.    The frost lightly nips at Jungkook’s nose as he sits on the bench. Rarely does he get to observe or be a mere spectator, but tickets were nabbed by Namjoon and Adora who are also watching and writing down jot notes on strategies. It helps to take an outside point of view and watch other people’s skills to improve his own. The men’s curling game was impressive too, people getting wrapped up in it, cheering, clapping, shouts echoing.   It would be a great game to watch….if Jungkook wasn’t so uncomfortable.   Yoonji's plopped herself beside him and made you sit next to her brother, who only came for fun. But while she blocked him from being with you and had made a visible effort to sit beside him as if she had something important to say, she wasn’t speaking whatsoever. Instead, Yoonji was giving Jungkook the cold shoulder, pouting, frowning.   “Hey, if there’s an issue, can you just tell me?”   He’s annoyed. He didn’t do anything to piss her off and yet he feels like he’s been put in timeout.    “You wanna know what the issue is, Jungkook?” Yoonji uses his full first name for once and turns to look at him, arms crossed, keeping her voice low so no one else can hear in the midst of the roars. “It’s the fact that you’re a completely different person when you’re with those guys.”   He connects the dots. “How?”   “You’re an ass.”    She’s blunt and straightforward, sinking her words that have sharp talons into his skin. Yoonji continues while he’s speechless, “When you’re with them, you’re everything I thought you were. A prick, an asshole, a fuckboy. Thought you proved me wrong, but guess not.”   Jungkook scoffs. “I didn’t even do anything.”    “Exactly,” she spits out with narrowed pupils boring into his own. “You didn’t defend Y/N when you should’ve. You didn’t even mention her. You acted like you weren’t in a long-term serious relationship, that you haven’t been dating her for a goddamn year now. Talking about fucking bitches too.” She rolls her eyes, making him feel small. “Are you kidding me?”   “I didn’t talk about that,” he defends. “They did.”   “And you didn’t stop them.”   “What did you want me to do?” His voice is moving up octaves, increasing in volume but you don’t notice, preoccupied with Yoongi. “To tell them to fuck off?”   “Yes!”   “They’re old friends that I haven’t seen in a long time and…” He’s at a loss, stressing, “It’s not that simple.”   “Obviously. You didn’t want to go to their game.” She softens around the edges and sighs. “Look, Jeon. I don’t know what your issue is with them, with having to pretend like you’re someone you’re clearly not, with having to lie about practice, but don’t be an idiot and hurt Y/N.”   “I won’t,” he mumbles.   “And don’t be an ass. It doesn’t suit you. Makes you uglier.”   There’s a moment of serene quietness. But Taehyung leans over with the bucket of popcorn in his lap almost spilling out. “Is everything okay?”   In the meanwhile, Yoongi is watching the game and chatting with you. “—tickets were cheaper than the other events and I wanted to see another curling game, so I can actually gauge how good you guys are. Yoonji keeps telling me you guys are the best.”   “Well, I don’t know about the best….” Your voice trails off. It’s nice to talk to Yoongi like this. It’s normal and you’re no longer nervous. The two of you are good friends and that fact puts you at ease, enough to turn and say, “Hey, Yoongi. Can I ask you something?”   “Depends on what it is.”   “D-Do guys prefer double Ds?”   The dark-haired man whips his head around, no longer watching the match. “What?”   “N-nevermind.” A long sigh squeezes out of your lungs. Yoongi doesn’t push, but he tells you that you can talk to him about anything if you want, that it’s okay. With that in mind, you nod and brace yourself. “Do you….ever….get….bored in the bedroom?”   Yoongi’s doubtful Jungkook would ever say that to you. So, he doesn’t know where this is coming from, but he still chooses his words carefully, “Sometimes. When I was dating, of course things became pretty regular after a while. I think that happens to everyone at some point and it’s not a bad thing. We kept things exciting by changing them up every once in a while.”   “Changing...things up?” You wait patiently for him to elaborate. The last thing you wanted to discuss with Yoongi was this, but you figured he had the most experience out of all people you knew.    You just want to keep up with Jungkook. It might be petty and dumb, but you have a desire to be better than his past relationships and be the best.   “Yeah.” He nods awkwardly and leaves it a bit vague. “Sometimes we introduced toys, different positions, or someone took charge. Made things more fun.”   There’s a long pause as the both of you watch the curling game, how the Switzerland team does a smooth takeout of the opponent's stone. For a moment, you forget about the conversation, cheering with everyone else. But once it dies down, you look back at him. “How...how does one take charge?”   Yoongi smirks, the corner of his mouth tugging as he realizes he could give you any advice, but he decides to play nice and be real, “You just gotta be bold. Take what you want. Don’t think twice about it.”   “And...that’s not weird?”   “Nope.” Yoongi shakes his head. “Jungkook would probably like it. Or you could always ask him to make sure.”   You’re flustered, but you nod. “Thanks, Yoongi.”   He hums a note to acknowledge your gratitude, acting casual, but he makes a mental note that Jungkook owes him one for the fun he’s about to have.   //   His feet are flat on the pedals, riding the bike forward, but he stops for a moment, letting the built momentum carry himself forward. It’s sunny, the warmth of the rays kissing his cheeks, cool breeze carding through his hair. He hums a song underneath his breath, enjoying the surroundings.   “So slow, Kook.” Taehyung grins, riding past and disrupting the peace when he puts his arms in the air and hollers, waking up the entire block. “Can’t remember the last time I did this!”   “You should be careful,” Jungkook shouts above the wind. “If you get hurt, Coach and Yoonji will kill you.”   He looks over his shoulder, giving a cheesy smile. “You’re beginning to sound like Y/N.”   “Well, she’s always right so…”   They both ride downhill, moving past a group of female cross-country skiers walking together and Taehyung winks at one of them, making her swoon. Jungkook scoffs with a grin.   It was nice to be out with his best friend, renting bikes and cycling through the village. It was like the pleasantville universe was encapsulated in one tiny space, contained by these walls and kept safe from the chaotic world. Jungkook could spend the rest of his life like this. Everything was perfect here.    Until….he makes it down a block and spots two figures walking side by side.    Jungkook slows down and spots you in an instant. “Y/N?” And you’re with someone else that he recognizes.   He stops meters ahead, delayed and he turns around. Taehyung ahead has noticed too and halted. “Jeon!” Junmyeon is grinning, lightly jogging up to him. “I see you’re enjoying yourself.”   “Yeah...ummm…” The boy glances at you and then his old friend.   “I was looking for you and I ran into him,” you explain, “He was just telling me some stories about you.”   It’s strange and he stares at his old friend skeptically. “What...kind of stories?”   “Nothing bad, I promise,” he laughs. “Just how you used to sign hockey pucks and toss them over the glass barrier to kids, even though coach told you not to. Oh, also that time you fell on your ass on the ice and bruised your tailbone and you had to sit on one of those donut pillows for like five months—”   “That hurt, you know,” he exhales in defeat. Taehyung approaches with his bike at his side, grinning from the story.   Junmyeon smiles. “You guys should come watch us at the hockey quarter-finals. It’s happening later today.”   “You guys passed the preliminaries?”   His grin widens. “By a landslide.”   “C-Congratulations.” Jungkook genuinely means it, slightly surprised but mostly proud.   His old friend’s smile softens and he repeats, “You should come to the quarter-finals, Jeon. I could get you tickets no problem. It would be nice to have you there...for old times’ sake.”   “Oh, we have practice.” Jungkook looks at Taehyung who slowly nods, deciding to back up his claim while you don’t say anything at all. “So I don’t know if we can make it…”   “Then you should come to the after party,” he suggests. “It might be a celebration or a pity party, but either way, it’ll be nice to have you there. The team actually misses you a lot and they’ve been hounding me to invite you. So if you guys have time, you should swing by.”   It takes a delayed second for him to nod and when he doesn’t say anything, you step in. “Good luck. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”   “Thanks.”   “We’re rooting for you,” Taehyung cheers and starts singing the national anthem much to the hockey captain’s amusement who ends up joining the sing-along.    There are a few more words exchanged before Jungkook makes an excuse to go. Taehyung rides off while Jungkook convinces you to get onto the back of his bike on the rear seat. With your legs lifted on the side and your arms wrap around his abdomen, Jungkook rides off, leaving Junmyeon in the dust.   He won’t go.   Jungkook doesn’t want to. Yoonji’s words ring inside his mind. And he doesn’t like himself very much when he’s with them either. If his memory hasn’t failed him, he was indeed an ass and he doesn’t need that in his life. It’s all in the past and should be left there. Plus, he much prefers hanging out with Taehyung in the gaming lounge.   The two of them end up winding down with controllers in hand. “Go, go….”   Jungkook is quiet, concentrated, brows furrowed and even more serious than when he curls. Taehyung, on the other hand, is louder, shouting and getting wrapped up in it. He’s making a ruckus that’ll probably warrant someone stomping in and telling them to shut up. But for now, the round ends and with the loading screen, he leans back, giving his vocal cords a slight rest.   “You know, I wouldn’t be mad if you ditched me to go,” Taehyung mumbles.   He sips on his banana milk that he found in the vending machine. “Go where?”   “To the party.”   Jungkook glances over and their eyes meet. “I wouldn’t ditch you go to a dumb party, Tae.”   “But you should.”   He frowns. “Why?”   Taehyung shrugs. “You and I always hang out. When do you ever get a chance to hang out with those guys anymore?”   “I don’t want to hang out with them,” he mutters and spams the buttons on his controller. For some reason, the loading screen is taking excruciatingly long. “Goddammit…” Jungkook ends up sliding off his beanbag chair and he pounds his fist at the top of the console. He considers resetting it, but doesn’t for the sake of not losing all progress made.    “I still think you should go, Kook.” It’s out of the blue and he’s being oddly insistent. “They used to be your friends, right? If it were me and I hadn’t seen you in a long time, I’d want you to come.”   The dark-haired boy remains quiet and Taehyung continues, “Just saying, we always hang out. A chance to go to a party doesn’t come often. Should take advantage of it. You know, so you won't regret it later on. At least check it out.”   “I know what those parties are like. It’s nothing exciting.”   “Then there’s no harm in going,” the brunette points out. “We’ll have many times like this again. Trust me, Kook, I have lots of plans of crashing your apartment and raiding your fridge and couch surfing and playing video games with you till early morning and our eyes are burning.”   The corner of his mouth threatens to tug. “I’m not letting you in.”   “Too bad, I’ll get you a copy of your key. I know you keep the spare in the potted plant.”   Jungkook scoffs and turns around to face his friend instead of trying to run away again. “Why don’t you come with me then?”   “Nah, I don’t know those guys like you do. Plus, I’ve made some friends with a few short track kids. I’ll be fine.”   A small smile plastered on his face. “Are you trying to ditch me so you can go hang out with your new friends?”   “Don’t expose me,” Taehyung quips mischievously.    Jungkook takes a deep breath. He wants to stay, but another part of him tells him to go….so he braces himself and gets up, deciding to just give it a good ten minutes. He can always come back here and play for the rest of the night.   The curler ends up marching across the village to a different apartment area where loud music is already beginning to rumble the ground and the walls. It’s deafening and there are a bunch of people he doesn’t recognize around, girls and guys from every nation giggling and leaning against each other.   It’s déjà vu.   It feels like he’s stepping in a time machine, going back years ago when he didn’t know much, when he didn’t know loss or pain, only passion and hard work and this….   “Holy fuck! Is that Jeon Jungkook?!”   There’s howling and roaring from the team as he steps into the room and immediately, a grin spreads into his face. He’s bombarded and body slammed. “Fuck, Chanyeol. Chill, dude.”   “Thought I’d never see you again!”   Yixing approaches, shoving Chanyeol out of the way to engulf Jungkook an in a drunken hug, slurring something barely coherent, “—disappeared off the face of the fucking earth. I missed you so much, bro.”   “I- uh...missed you too.”   “I’m glad you could come.” Junmyeon pushes himself out of the dancing crowd, holding his red cup in hand, wearing a smile towards him.   “Glad I could make it,” he responds with his own smile.   “Hey! Someone go get Jongin, he’s gonna cry when he sees Jeon!”   “Someone get this man a drink,” Minseok shouts above the crowds.   “On it!” Jongdae holds his red solo cup over his head, cutting through the masses. There are a bunch of eyes pinned on Jungkook, wondering who he is for this many to be catering to him. There are girls interested in him too, coming closer, but he doesn’t notice them, focusing solely on his friends.   There’s barely time to breathe, much less to allow anyone to chat him up. Jungkook drinks, plays a few rounds of beer pong and takes the shots shoved into his hands. And he’s passed around from buddy to buddy, having never been touched so much. Literally. They’re handsy when they drink and sentimental. Jungkook is pulled into half-hugs, full-hugs, fist bumps, rough pats on the back, fancy handshakes he barely remembers and obnoxious team cheers.    It’s a whirlwind. He stays longer than intended. But it’s fun.   Jungkook forgot it was like this and he doesn’t know why he was so afraid of this atmosphere, afraid of confronting his old teammates. In fact, he misses it. Then Jungkook remembers that he never chose to leave this, never voluntary. It was ripped away from him, by the injury he caused himself...   There’s finally some peace when Baekhyun decides to do keg stands and Sehun holds him up while the rest of the idiots cheer them on. Kyungsoo is leaning against the wall, wearing a poker face as he drinks. It’s quiet and nice, allowing Jungkok to regain his energy. “You’ve been doing….curling?”   “Yeah. It’s cool.”   “Heard you were good.”   “Really?” He’s pleasantly surprised. “From who?”   Kyungsoo shrugs. “Just around. You like it?”   “I do.”   He hums, wearing a kind and small smile. “I’m glad you’re doing something, Jungkook.”   “I would never leave the ice for the world,” he says and they exchange knowing smiles.   “Coach was right.” Kyungsoo sips his vodka-mixed drink and their private conversation isn’t tense or wistful, but filled with the shorter male’s admiration. “No matter what you do, you’d be good at it. There’s no one else who can survive like you can.”   “That’s not true.”   “You don’t think so?” His cup motions over to the group. “If Baekhyun or Yixing ever went through what you did, I doubt they’d be able to cope. Probably would be laying in bed somewhere, wasting their lives away...not that they already aren’t wasting their lives away.”   But Jungkook doesn’t feel powerful, resilient, or strong.   Once he’s overcome his fear of confronting his teammates, he’s filled with sadness.   He’s getting glimpses back into the life that should’ve been his.   Jungkook drinks and drinks, doing shots, taking anything Jongin gives him, what Minseok passes into his hands. He takes it in to smother the emotions in the pits of his stomach, to drown them away.    Eventually, when the party dies down, some of the members go off with girls and others pass out on the floor. He, on the other hand, waves his hand and rejects the offer of sleeping on the couch.   Instead, Jungkook stumbles around Olympic village at two in the morning.   He feels like singing, but keeps quiet with his mission in mind. There’s something he wants to do badly, someone he wants to see.    Jungkook’s vision warps and he leans on the wall for leverage, heavy breaths drawing out of his lungs. He barely remembers going into the apartment and up the elevator, but here he is, staggering down the hall.   He finds the door and begins to pound his fist on it, letting the sound boom down the corridor. From the deepest part of his voice, Jungkook shouts your name. “Y/N! Y/N!”    He’s not sure how long he does it for, but soon, the surface his fist is smashing against moves away from him. The hinges creak and he greets the dark room. You’re clad in your pajamas, bed-head and all, sleepiness making it hard to muster the energy to be angry. “Jungkook? What are you doing here? Yoongi’s asleep! Are you drunk?”   The boy doesn’t say anything and you don’t need a verbal answer when he reeks of alcohol.   But you’re unable to say any more when he falls forward, arms wrapping around your shoulders, abruptly hugging your body. His own frame overtakes yours, covering you fully like a shield. Jungkook holds you tightly as if he’s too afraid to let you go and while you’re caught off guard, you ease into his grasps. Your own hands lift up to his back, patting him gently as he squeezes you.   Jungkook’s black mop of hair shags down over his red eyes, downcast head slumped onto your shoulder and he whispers, “I missed you.”   You smile softly, feet bare on the carpet and not ready to greet the cold temperature in the hall, but you’re warm from his embrace. “We saw each other a few hours ago.”   You underestimate Jungkook’s current state, not aware of how emotional he’s feeling. So it’s another surprise when he suddenly begins to cry into your shoulder.    Soft sobs break out of Jungkook’s body, making your pajamas wet, but you hold onto him, letting him quietly cry into you. You pat him gently, soothing him and listening to his soft, drunken sobs as he lets it all out.    “I...I miss hockey.” Broken words tear out of his constricting throat and you realize he’s not just hugging you, but you’re cradling him in your arms, providing him comfort and security that he’s desperately seeking.   “I know,” you murmur back.    The pair of you stand there for a long moment, halfway between the bright hallway and the dark room. It’s quiet with people sleeping in their quarters, peaceful as you hold Jungkook, bodies pressed together, and he drunkenly cries on you. You can hear his heartbeat and the way he eventually quiets and hiccups. But even when he finishes, Jungkook doesn’t want to let go.    You’re not just his teddy bear. You’re his person.   Someone who stays by his side through thick and thin, someone that is not said but promised, the human being that is closest to him of all human beings, unconditional. You go beyond being a best friend for Jungkook, beyond a mere girlfriend or partner. You are everything that really matters and that fact won’t ever change no matter what form your relationship takes.   “C-can I come in?”   “You have to be quiet, alright?”   “Okay.” He nods and you let go while still holding his hands, shutting the door and helping him slip off his shoes. You lead the drunken boy into your room with Yoonji on the other side meters away, curled up in her lump of blankets, snoring and oblivious to what’s happening.    You bring your boyfriend to your bed, not letting him stumble into the furniture and you tuck him in, pulling his blankets up. But he still tugs you into him, cuddling your body, nuzzling into your hair and the pair of you fall asleep with arms and legs tangled together.   //   Morning comes with blinding sunlight, stirring him awake to a massive headache. You’re still asleep, so Jungkook carefully crawls over you, rolling his way to the washroom. He grabs the new toothbrush that the accommodation gave, tearing the plastic to open it and he squeezes out your toothpaste……….all while Yoonji is glaring at him in the mirror, standing next to him at the sink.   He’s not allowed in here and thus, when she woke up and saw him across the room, Yoonji was not amused. But Jungkook doesn’t particularly care that she’s glaring with him. He’s too busy nursing a hangover and that’s not even the worst part — he remembers how he used you and cried on you pathetically without providing much context, also nearly waking up the entire goddamn apartment building.    Yoonji spits out her toothpaste, rinses her mouth and splashes water on her face. She brushes her hair roughly while Jungkook finishes up himself. “You guys didn’t have sex when I was sleeping a foot away, right?”   “No,” he answers honestly.   “Good.” Relief overtakes the female curler. “I don’t want to be involved with you freaks in any shape or form.”   It’s true that he didn’t do anything to that extent, but the bar is set low. He still showed up unannounced banging on your door. If he had woken up Yoonji, he probably wouldn’t be alive anymore. But even if that didn’t happen and the only punishment he has for last night’s bad decisions is a hangover, he still feels like an ass — for irresponsibly going out drinking and making you take care of him afterwards, for treating you the way he did in front of those guys, for not talking much these days or telling you what’s wrong with him. Not to mention, he hasn’t been out on a date with you in the recent weeks leading up to getting here.   So he slips out before you’re awake, going down to the shopping center for overpriced flowers.    Jungkook’s stared at by many, wondering who he was buying them for, overhearing that it’s a sweet gesture no matter who it could be, but he knows it’s not enough to make up for these past few days. Yet somehow, you still grin when he hands them to you and it’s infectious enough to make him smile too.   “What are these for?”   “It’s Valentine’s today.”   “It is?” Your surprise morphs into dread. “I...didn’t get you anything!”   “It’s okay.” Jungkook laughs. “We agreed we weren’t going to do it this year, so it’s okay. You didn’t forget anything.”   “Then what are these for?” You dig your nose into the bouquet, smelling the pink tulips.   “It’s just something I got when I was thinking about you.”   Your smile is sweet, but eyes have a glimmer of mischief. “Not as a thank you because I let you in last night instead of kicking you to the curb?” You don’t mention the crying part as if it’s too intimate to poke fun at and make him embarrassed about.   “No.” He pouts. “But maybe that too.”   “If Adora or Namjoon saw me sneaking you in after hours, he’d give us another earful. Remember last time when we were at WMDCC?”   “It’s not like the others aren’t doing it.” He plops down, sitting on the edge of your bed that still hasn’t been made, sheets ruffled with your nice scent clinging onto them. Jungkook watches as you put the bouquet down on the nightstand, propped up against the lamp. “Taehyung banished me from the room. He’s off with some figure skater he met in the dining hall.”   You hum. “Yoonji’s having fun with some cross-country skier, I think. So...we have the room to ourselves.”   He smiles, nose wrinkling slightly, teeth shown. “What are you insinuating?”   “That we celebrate Valentine’s properly.” You shove Jungkook’s shoulder and he falls back onto the mattress, allowing you to come up and straddle his hips. His smile wipes off, brows lifting, entertained at the new change of pace.   “I don’t have a cond—”   “It’s okay. I have some. Took them from the dispenser machine.” You sit right where his cock is hardening, letting your weight sink onto his bulge and he chokes on air, hands coming up to hold your waist. It’s supposed to be him making it up to you and rather than feeling guilt, he’s beginning to feel more rewarded.   “Is everything okay?” Jungkook has to ask, too curious for his own good. Usually you’re more coy, but he doesn’t mind as long as it’s you.   It’s a question you should be asking him, but it seems like an afternoon where things are happening the other way around.   “Why?” You’re on slight alert, apprehensive and watching his reaction. “Is this weird?”   You’ve taken Yoongi’s advice, trying to be bolder, but deep down you’re still self-conscious. Thankfully, he shakes his head. “No. I like it. I like you. It’s just different.”   “Y-yeah.” Your fingers tremble as they play with the hem of his shirt, lifting it slowly like you’re trying to steal a peek and as if it’s not already meant for only your eyes in the first place. “Just wanted to try something...different.”   “Different isn’t bad,” he comments and you reach down to kiss him. Jungkook grabs the back of your neck, deepening the kiss until it’s wet and warm and good enough to make your toes curl. His kisses aren’t as shy as they used to be — it’s more comfortable and practiced, knowing you well enough to eagerly welcome you on his tongue.   And once you break apart, your lips are swollen and red in the same shade. “I wanna be better than those girls,” you admit thoughtlessly in a whisper, playing with the zipper on his jeans and wanting something underneath it.   “What girls?”   Jungkook blinks, sincerely having no idea what you mean. In the meanwhile, you continue to fumble with pants again, a bit more nervous. “No one. Never mind.”   “I love you,” he confesses quietly. Those words have only been said a handful of times before, so he means it. Jungkook’s past relationships were derived from peer pressure, reckless and immature. It’s so much nicer to be with someone, to touch someone when there’s that emotional intensity. And as he mulls over such thoughts, he pulls you down to kiss you again, gentler this time. “You know that.”   “I do.” You smile once you pull away. “And I love you back.”   Jungkook’s grin could make his cheeks burst. “Good.”   His declaration makes you happier than you’d like to admit. And once you rip off Jungkook’s pants once and for all, he’s also happier than he’d like to admit.   //   “Alright, gather up!” Namjoon’s voice roars in the empty space, sound echoing loudly even when all four of you are standing just meters away. Adora is placed beside her partner in crime, hands on her hips as she wears a stern expression. “We realized recently that we’ve been too lax with you guys here. There’s been too much slacking.”   “Oh, please.” Yoonji rolls her eyes. “You don’t need to lie to motivate us. We know we’re the best team you guys have — that’s why we’re the only ones here, right?”   Adora points her clipboard at the female. “That kind of arrogant talk will make you get bronze.”   She gasps, wholly offended by the idea. “Bronze? I’d rather get nothing.”   “At this rate, you’ll get nothing,” Namjoon interrupts with a sigh. “We might have passed all seven trial games, but we need to focus for the semi-finals. We’re going up against the Beijing team. This is their home turf, so we can’t let our guard down. Got that, Yoonji?”   She mumbles with a pout, “Yes…”   “There’s just a few pointers we need to go through. Remember to take advantage of the free guard zone.” All of you have watched videos of the opponents, taking notes on their techniques and strategies, and they have it down solid. “They’re good. We should make it tough for them. Make them play pressure shots. And if we get the hammer shot, then aim to get multiple points. But sometimes, it’s okay to take the single.”   He continues to elaborate as you listen and then Adora steps in. “You guys already make eighty five percent of your intended shots. Majority of the shots are made and as much as we go over strategies, it’s difficult since decisions have to be made in the moment. So for today, I think we should practice some takeout shots and do a defensive play and make sure we get that fifteen percent that you guys are missing.”   “Aye-aye, captain!” Taehyung grins, saluting the coach much to her dismay.   Yoonji goes first as usual.   She gets down, feet a few inches apart with her slider foot slightly forward and her weight put on the hack foot. Her shoulders and hips are level and she feels the weight of the stone, pulling it back to the toe of her hack foot. She moves her slider foot straight back, weight transferred onto it and her hips raise. The weight moves back and she pushes out, releasing the stone in a smooth motion.   It curls down the sheet, heading closer to the button of the house. Your eyes narrow and you begin to shout encouragements. Jungkook and Taehyung both begin to brush, arms working fast and once they stop, the stone halts right on the button…   ….   The crowd erupts in cheers.   The team members on the opponent side grin, nodding and talking amongst themselves, obviously impressed with the play.   The semi-finals should be nerve-racking.   Your body should be slick with sweat, hands trembling, mind numb as you consider this is one of the most important games of your entire career. But instead, you find yourself having a lot of fun. While the opponents have tricks up their sleeves, surprising you every so often, you have your own.   The crowd also hypes the players up. Their howling, cheering, chanting sets the perfect mood for the game. It’s hard to find people as passionate about curling as you are, but here, everyone cares about the sport wholeheartedly and their applause is music to your ears.    Taehyung swaps with Yoonji and they high-five each other as they pass.   “You got this, Taehyung,” you encourage him, glad that practice went well enough to give him more confidence. It was going exactly as planned.   He smirks, arrogantly even and you muse how Yoonji must be rubbing off of him. “I know.”   The brunette makes you scoff, but his remark is well deserved when he manages a double takeout of the opponent’s stone. It’s still a close game, but Taehyung’s following plays remove their stones from the house and Jungkook sets up the perfect draw shots for you.   In the heat of the moment, you decide to take on a bold tactic, continuing to score despite inadvertently giving them the hammer. It’s risky, but you’re still ahead. And with eight ends finishing and only one more, your breath is bated, watching as their last stone takes only one of your own out.   It’s a steal in your end.   The people around the stadium stand in cheers, sound erupting. Jungkook runs over, nearly tumbling on the ice but he catches balance and engulfs you in a hug, swinging you up and squeezing laughter out of your lungs. Namjoon and Adora are losing their minds, grabbing their hair and mouths dropped in disbelief. Taehyung and Yoonji are in a similar state, screaming with their arms in the air. The China team claps, having tried their best and giving you a minute before they go over and shake your hands.   The four of you are going to the finals, taking silver or gold home.    Either way, you’re guaranteed winners.   //   “You think my dad would like this shirt?”   You hold up the white sleeveless tee with the brown bear mascot printed on it. It’s horribly obnoxious and makes Jungkook grin. “No. But if you bought it for him, he’d still wear it. He’d wear anything you buy him.”   “Yeah, but he’d secretly hate it and I’d feel bad.” You smile, putting it back on the rack properly.   The two of you are walking through the shopping center aisles together, looking at knick-knacks and souvenirs to bring home. Jungkook’s following along — and you muse that you’re not the only one who steals clothes from him. He’s wearing your oversized pink hoodie, three sizes too large for you that fits him perfectly. It’s a bright, cute colour that makes him soft and you have to resist the urge to hug him; lest Yoonji somehow show up and mutter something about how gross you two are.   “Hey, what do you think about this?”   “About what?”   Jungkook gingerly plops a headband on your head and you turn to glance in the mirror, finding yourself with bear ears. When you turn back to Jungkook, he’s wearing the cheesiest smile, endeared by you. “It’s cute.”   You grab another headband on the shelf, reaching up to put it on his own head. “You’re cuter.”   “I doubt it.” Jungkook pulls you in to share a discreet kiss between the shopping aisles. It’s short, but enough to make your toes tingle and he smiles against your mouth before pulling away. A group of girls walking past and peeking down the aisle are disappointed, having been using him as eye candy.   You continue walking with him, wearing the headband and deciding to buy them before you leave. “Hey, Jungkook…”   “Hmm?”   “You know I’ll support you in whatever you want, right? That includes if you want to continue curling or try hockey again.” You turn to him, serious, lips fallen into a straight line.   “I...I can’t—”   “You haven’t tried yet,” you tell him. “We both know there are athletes out there who come back after injuries that are supposed to end their careers. I know there’s not a lot of them out there and chances are slim. But if there’s anyone who can do it, it’s you.”   There’s suddenly heavy pressure placed upon his shoulders.   Jungkook begins to break out into a sweat. He doesn’t know what he wants anymore. And his lips part to say something, but you continue, beating him to the punch.   “If you give up curling, that doesn’t mean you’re losing me. I’m mutually exclusive from it. You know that, right? That it doesn’t matter to me — curling or hockey or anything else. Even if you wanted to retire from sports. You’d still be my best friend.”   He smiles softly. “What about being your boyfriend?”   “That too.” You continue walking with him alongside you. “If you miss the ice, we can learn how to skate together again. If you want. But one thing’s for sure, you can’t be as bad as I am.”   “You’re not that bad.”   “Really?” Your expression is overcome with disbelief and it makes him laugh which in turn causes a smile to pull up into your cheeks. “I want you to be happy.”   He assures you, “I am happy.”   “Happier, then. I want to help you achieve whatever you want.”   Jungkook’s heart feels warm. It goes quiet for a few minutes, you checking out the snow globes while he’s leaning against the shelves, staring. It makes you self-conscious, palms clammy and you’re about to ask him to stop looking at you like that, but this time, he’s the one to speak first.   “Do you want to come with me? I...heard the hockey team has their semis tonight.”   You smile, elated at the invitation. “I’d be happy to.”   The promising words that draw out of your lips might not seem much to you, but for Jungkook, it provides him relief that you’re here to stay — a constant in his life.   //   It’s crowded.   There are more people here than in curling games, understandable considering hockey is a popular sport, but it’s a whole nother category of passion. There are people wearing the player’s jerseys, faces painted in their nation’s colours, carrying signs with them and even holding hockey trading cards.   A few people recognize Jungkook, gasping when they see him, and he smiles meekly, mumbling a few ‘hellos’ as he shuffles past. The roaring music and cheers make goosebumps run up his arms. He has an urge to turn around and book it out of the stadium, but with you by his side, he’s able to muster enough courage to keep going.   Jungkook expects to sit there, watch the game and then leave when it’s over. But what he doesn’t anticipate is to run into a familiar man on his way up the stands. “J-Jungkook?”   “Coach...”   “Oh my god.” The old man’s mouth has fallen open and then he chuckles deep within his chest, grinning and coming over to hug Jungkook, wrinkling his own suit in the process. “They really weren’t lying. I didn’t know I’d see you here. I...I can’t believe it.”   The boy laughs as he’s being let go. “Well, believe it, old man.”    “You made it. You’re at the Olympics.” He pats him on the back, radiating pride. “I knew you could make it, Jeon.”   Jungkook grins. “Thanks for believing in me.”   Coach looks over to you. “This is….?”   “Y/N.” The boy happily announces, “My girlfriend.”   The older male shakes your hand firmly. “Nice to meet you.”    “This is my old coach,” Jungkook introduces to you.   “The one and only.” He smiles before looking at the former hockey player. “You should come say hi to the team.”   “Oh…” Jungkook glances at you who encourages him to go. But, he still hesitates. “Aren’t they going out soon?”   “In a little bit, but I think seeing you will help motivate them.”   He nods and while you go up to the stands to save your seats, Jungkook goes to the back locker rooms. The other members greet him with hugs and fist bumps while he wishes them good luck. They end up dragging him to do the usual chant, huddled up together, heads down, jumping in a circle as they hype each other up. It’s nostalgic. The smiles are infectious too but as they go out one by one, Jungkook’s left behind.   After a moment, their backsides disappear beyond the doorway and he strolls back to join you at the stands. It’s a good spot, overseeing the entire rink. Jungkook’s also comforted that you’re here and he’s not alone. But before the game officially begins, the national anthem plays and the players skate around, exchanging hand shakes with their opponents. Jungkook takes the time to teach you the game.   “So the line in the middle is called the centerline and the blue lines divide the rink into three zones. There’s the neutral zone in the middle and two end zones, and the red lines at the end are the goal lines. The dots are the face off spots—”   “I know,” you laugh, saving him from having to explain the rules. “I’ve been to hockey games a couple times before.”   “You have?”   “Yeah. I watched you play before.”   “You have?” Jungkook’s more surprised than before, not knowing that you actually saw him.   “I...was your fan actually,” you admit sheepishly.   “Well, I knew that.”   It’s your turn to be shocked. “How?”   The boy in the blue toque and red mittens shrugs playfully. “Just a feeling. But I didn’t know you actually came to my game. Why didn’t you ever approach me or talk to me?”   “Why?” You giggle, the answer obvious. “You didn’t know who I was and I doubt you would’ve given me the time of day.”   Part of Jungkook wants to say that you two could’ve started your relationship sooner instead of meeting you for the first time when he joined curling. But then again, he was an ass back then — exactly what Yoonji had initially assumed about him. He played around a lot, but he’s certain that…   “I still would’ve liked you.”   You smile, appreciating his sentiment.    The game begins and the two of you watch intently — three periods that are twenty minutes each and two intermissions where you and Jungkook stretch your limbs, waiting. But during that time, he ends up getting caught up in some fans who knew him, signing someone’s jersey and taking a few pictures. It’s cute...until a stranger asks him for his number and that’s when you make your appearance, scaring her off much to Jungkook’s amusement who considers you too adorable to actually frighten someone.    Jungkook feels like a retired celebrity and he channels his cockiness which makes you roll your eyes. The game eventually continues and he loses his annoying persona.   It goes twenty minutes into overtime until Junmyeon scores straight into the opponent’s net.   Everyone watching in the stadium stands on their feet, cheering, hollering and clapping. Your boyfriend screams out his friend’s name loud enough that the hockey planner actually spots him and waves.    It’s strange. Jungkook doesn’t feel burdened or jealous. He’s proud.   //   The stadium slowly files out, people leaving one by one.   You’re off, meeting with Yoonji and Taehyung down the street for the hockey team’s after party that all you were invited too, but Jungkook stays behind. Just for a moment to himself. And he finds himself walking down closer to the rink until he’s leaning on the railing, staring at the surface that’s no longer smooth, intricate grooves and designs made from the skates.   He looks up, allowing the bright lights to shine into his eyes and burns his vision. Jungkook imagines the stadium filled with people again. In his fantasy, this time it’s him who’s skating on the ice. He can still remember when he was the one to shoot the winning goal, how his friends piled on top of him and his coach stood proud amongst the crowd, his parents clapping at the stands while people screamed his name.   It’s different now — but also very much the same.   There’s still people clapping, shouting his name, parents and coaches cheering for him. He’s still on the ice with the lights shining down and his friends always pile on top of him in hugs of victory….   “Hey, you alright?” Junmyeon exits the locker room, clad in his dark tracksuit, and he drops his duffle bag on the floor, throwing the towel from his shoulder down to join him.   “Congratulations, dude.” They both fist bump and half hug each other, patting one another on the back.   “Thanks.” The shorter male grins. “You looked like you were deep in thought. What’s up?”   “Nah. It was nothing. Maybe just considering that you were great on the ice. It was a good game and fun to watch. I never got many chances to just watch back in the day.” Jungkook musters up the courage to deliver the words he’s been thinking, “You deserve to be captain, Junmyeon.”   He smiles softly and they both lean on the railing, looking out to the rink, cheeks cooling down from the cold temperature. “I don’t know about that, Jeon. I had big shoes to fill. I still do.”   Jungkook smiles. “That’s not true.”   “It is. You’d be surprised.” The hockey player glances at him. “When you left, it was a huge loss. It was hard for us and we couldn’t even imagine how you were feeling. I’m glad you’re doing well, Kook.”   The curler takes the words in somberly. “I’m sorry I avoided you guys. I….didn’t want to see you or talk and I ended up shutting you all out.”   “Hey, man…” It’s an awkward heart to heart, but Junmyeon sympathizes and pats him on the back before retracting his arm. “...that’s understandable….”   “I was scared of coming today, you know that?” Jungkook knocks his head back to stare at the fluorescent lights again. They don’t seem so dazzling right now. “Of watching a game. Of that stupid party. I was scared of all of this….scared that I would miss it. Of missing hockey.”   “Do you?”   “Yeah,” Jungkook answers after a second of consideration and he looks at his friend. “I was mad, you know. I was angry and upset about that injury that I caused myself.”   “You didn’t cause it yourself—”   “I was the one who pushed myself. I should’ve….” There’s so many things he should’ve done differently, he doesn’t know what to start with. Jungkook wonders at what point he started to harbour so many regrets. “Should’ve known better.”   It’s one thing to retire. It’s another for it to be taken away from him.   It’s so goddamn unfair. Jungkook wants to cry again.   “Don’t blame yourself. It was us who should’ve helped you. We’re a team,” Junmyeon says with his brows furrowed, “But we don’t act like it.”   He sighs, running a hand over his face, other arm dropping over the railing as he leans over with his entire body weight. “I don’t feel like a survivor, Jun. Everyone has so many expectations for me, even now. It’s a miracle that I’m here...that I made it in another sport. But I don’t feel like I’ve beat the odds or that I’m some kind of genius golden boy who’s good at everything he does.”   “You are a survivor.” Junmyeon grins, looking at his friend. “I know people’s expectations might seem a lot to handle, but you still made it, dude. Your injury was supposed to stop your hockey career, but here you are. Anyone else who was in your position, they’d be broken.”   “I was broken. I was lost.”    “But you’re standing at the Olympics. You did it through hard work, not just luck or natural skill. Or by some miracle. You worked your ass off to learn a new sport, to keep the name you had for yourself. You deserve the praise. You’re fucking amazing.”   “I’m not.”   “Just take the fucking compliment.” He laughs quietly. “It doesn’t have to be that deep. If you’re feeling pressured about expectations and how people see you, then stop giving a shit.”   He scoffs. “Easy for you to say.”   The hockey player smiles. “You might not be a hockey golden boy anymore, Jungkook. But you’re still an incredible person. You’re still you with or without hockey. Nothing was lost.”   Jungkook scoffs again, but this time his vision is blurred with tears. He rubs his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket and if Junmyeon notices then he doesn’t say anything.   He continues, “You know, I’ve noticed something about you these days, Kook. You seem a lot happier. I don’t know about you, but the days leading up to your injury, everyone was worried. The pressure was real, but you were especially tense and stressed. I know how it can get when you’re captain, trust me, I know now. It feels like everyone’s riding on your shoulders. But back then, I could tell it was getting to you and the entire team...we were all drifting apart and growing distant from each other. But you seem a lot better now. Healthier. Happier. Back to your old self.” Junmyeon smiles. “If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought that you willingly retired from hockey because you it got too easy for you and you told the rest of us to fuck off.”   Jungkook laughs, sound ringing from his chest. “I’d never do that.”   “I’m not so sure.” Junmyeon stands straighter. “You were real intense back in the day and man, could you imagine the media outlets freaking out that one of the best players said the sport sucked? That would’ve been a real power move. Big dick energy right there. Like Albert Einstein saying physics is for idiots. Damn. Would’ve made the rest of us look like fools.”   He grins, finished wiping his eyes. “Do I really seem happier than before?”   “A hundred percent,” he responds without a beat of hesitation. “That’s what Kyungsoo told me too. That injury should’ve ruined your life but here you are, riding bikes and shopping and you learnt a whole fucking sport in two years and made it to the Olympics. You came out on top with a smile. Happier than before. Fuck. If I didn’t know you, I’d be freaked out. You’re a beast.”   “You’re not just saying this shit to make me feel better, right?”   “No. I fucking suck ass at comforting people, you know that. I speak only truths.”   Jungkook smiles again and then he exhales softly. “Well...it’s not like I can change what happened to my injury.” The road to acceptance is long and instead of running away like he’s been doing, he’s slowly coming to terms with it. Even if it’s painful. “I had to make do with what I had.”   “And this is where you are. Better than before, I might argue.” There’s an extended moment of quiet, both looking out to the rink. Junmyeon pipes up, breaking the silence, “If there’s one thing I learnt ever since stepping up as captain — it’s that it’s not about the sport, Jungkook. It’s about the people too.”   “Are you still listening to those podcasts trying to be woke?”   “A little,” he admits with a grin. “But I’m serious. Don’t get me wrong, those guys on the hockey team are hard workers and they’re great, but they’re also a toxic wasteland. It’s easy to be swept up in their idiocy. The pressure gets to you sometimes and you know that best.”   “Yeah….” Jungkook hums a note, feeling oddly introspective. “That was actually something I had to get used to when I joined this new team. They’re not like us, Jun.”   “Not like a frat house on fire?”   Jungkook laughs and nods. “They’re family.”   Men’s, Women’s, Mixed — everyone greeted and welcomed him warmly. Maybe because they’re older folks that are wiser, knowing what’s important in life and not concerned with partying or status. Jungkook always felt like they were dependable people. People who wouldn’t judge him wrongfully. Who saw him as one of their own, a son, a friend, not someone to be competed with.    It’s joining the curling team that Jungkook learnt what teamwork meant and knew what it’s like when everyone truly cares for each other.   “Wow,” Junmyeon exhales. “Are you trying to make me envious right now? I told you I was already intimidated by your hard work, okay? No need to make me jealous too.”   He lightly scoffs. “I’m not.”   The conversation simmers down and the curler takes a deep breath, tiny smile placed on his features as he stares out at the ice, less bitter than he was before. It was nice to talk like this, to have someone know his predicaments and not only lend a listening ear, but comforting words.   Jungkook thought that it would be hard to go to a game, to see his old friends again. But it wasn’t. Not at all. It was easy even. Sure, it brought up bad memories he wanted to run from, made him feel nostalgic and regretful and sad, but Jungkook also realizes that it wasn’t as great and grand as he had previously remembered.   He wasn’t that happy in the face of fame, of intensive struggle with people who encouraged and fueled his bad behaviour. It was only when he got away did it occur to him that he didn’t like the person he was and the person that he was becoming.   And it was only coming to this game did Jungkook realize that things weren’t so different now. He was still drowning in a sport he loved. He was still playing. He was still in a team. He was still under the fluorescent lights with people cheering him on. He was still on the ice.   “She’s a good fit for you, y’know,” the hockey player suddenly pipes up, interrupting his train of thought. “Y/N. She’s a nice girl.”   “I know.” Jungkook’s smile to himself softens.   “The moment I got a chance to talk to her, I thought ‘fucking hell, Jeon has it all, doesn’t he? He finally has his perfect girlfriend too.’”   “Perfect girlfriend?” The curler’s brow lift, tone less threatening and more mischievous.   “Perfect for you,” the hockey player clarifies with a grin, trying not to step on his friend’s toes by coming onto his girlfriend, “not for me.”   “How’d you know she’s my girlfriend?”   Junmyeon shrugs. “I just knew. Seemed like your type and you both looked happy as shit when you saw each other. It was actually pretty obvious. Damn. Now I’m really jealous of you. You’re just oozing with joy and happiness, aren’t you? Fucking rubbing it in all our faces that you’re better off without us.”   Jungkook bursts out laughing and pats him on the back. “I’m sure Irene would take you back.”   “Fuck no! Are you crazy?! I’d rather date car-keyer Jisoo than her again!” He visibly shivers and the Jungkook laughs again.   “You guys should come watch me curl,” he invites. “We’re having the finals in two days. And it’s not as dumb as some people might think. The sport’s pretty intense actually.”   “I heard.” Junmyeon smiles. “I heard you were good too. That true or just another rumour about the Great Jeon?”   “You have to come check out for yourself.”   //   The stadium is roaring.    People are stomping twice and then clapping once, letting the beat echo as they create their own music and drown out the commentators on the intercom. He can barely hear his own thoughts and Adora is wearing earplugs while Namjoon is relishing it, pretending he’s the king of this sport.    There are flags swirling, held up by people. Singing, cheering, hollering, blood-curdling screams, there’s everything. It feels more like an MMA fight than a curling game. And it’s scaring all four of you. Taehyung is shocked, mouth dropped wide open. But more importantly, the colour of red and white fills the crowd.   “Damn Canadians,” Yoonji mutters, knowing full well how crazy Canada is about curling.   “It’s kind of fun, huh,” you muse with a laugh, smiling towards the Canadian team that nod in acknowledgment.    Taehyung comes over, flinging his arm over your shoulder and Yoonji’s. “Well, let’s make the best of it. Either way we’re leaving with gold or silver.”    “If we win gold, what if they riot?” Yoonji asks with raised brows.   “Nah, they wouldn’t. Canadians are too nice for that.”   “You haven’t been to a hockey game in Canada,” Jungkook comments before catching someone up on the stands.    It’s his old coach and the rest of the hockey team, sitting awkwardly at the center of the stands, all too out of place. The visual makes Jungkook grin. “Is it always this crowded?” Minseok leans over to ask Junmyeon as if he knows.   Yoongi, beside them, turns his head. “You have a lot to learn around here.”   “This is a legit sport, huh?” Jongin is amazed, blinking twice as he gawks.    “Course it is. What did you expect?”   “I don’t….know.”   Chanyeol leans over to Sehun, shouting when the music begins again. “I don’t think any of our hockey games had this many people!”   “Oh shit!” Baekhyun is screaming, looking down at the curling sheet as players begin to move. “What’s happening?!”   “It’s a coin toss,” Yoongi says loudly, unimpressed by their stupidity. “Winner goes first.”   “Jeon’s going!” Yixing yells and then all of them stand up, screaming from deep in the pits of their stomach. Their competitive fire ignites inside of them, trying to beat the Canadian spectators in their cheers.   “Let’s go, Jeon!” — “Get that fucking coin toss!” — “Beat them, JK! You fucking got this man!”   The group is so loud that Jungkook notices in the midst of the noise and turns, waving to them with a ginormous grin. Junmyeon laughs his head off as the spectators in the stands continue to cheer, audience going wild.   The coldness of the ice wafts over, making the air frigid. His breath is seen every time he exhales, cheeks becoming rosy in the cold. He can’t feel anything, not his hands or the tip of his nose. The edges of his fingers tingle, mind tickling pleasantly. This is where he’s meant to be, where he worked so hard to get to.   The moment is perfect.   Taehyung and Yoonji are by his side, holding their brooms. More importantly, you’re here too, giving him a firm nod to go ahead. And Jungkook flips the coin, tossing it in the air and letting the surface shine against the bright lights.   The game ensues.

[Epilogue]   The door opens.   You barely have time to take off your shoes, running towards the tiny fenced area in the living room. “Where’s my baby?”   Jungkook enters, flicking on the lights in the foyer to shed the darkness away. In the meanwhile, you’re reaching down, arms holding his tiny body to Jungkook’s slight amusement. You’re cooing at it, apologizing for going out for dinner and leaving it alone for so long.   “We’re not going to keep the bunny, Y/N.”   “Why not?”   “Because we found him in front of our apartment and he could have rabies.”   “That’s why I set up a vet appointment on the weekend. And he’s not a wild rabbit. He’s a domesticated bunny that was in a cardboard box. Can you really let this fella go?”    Suddenly, the rabbit is shoved in his face. It’s ears are perked in the air, rounded eyes completely black, nose vibrating as it sniffs his scent. It’s a furry brown thing. Kind of cute. But he won’t let himself be swayed.   “Yes, I can.”    Jungkook moves away from the rabbit, stepping to the side, preferring to stare at you.   Your love for animals since childhood extended into adulthood and now you had enough money and independence to build your own zoo in the apartment without your mother saying ‘no’. On the bright side, at least capable of taking care of them. Jungkook still doesn’t like the bunny though.   It had to go.   “But it looks just like you. It’s adorable.” You’re squealing, gazing at the rodent with endearment that leaves Jungkook speechless. “I can’t let him go and risk Yoonji finding him and throwing him on a barbecue.”   “That was a joke,” he reminds and muses that Yoonji’s dark sense of humour finally matched with his own.    You’ve been spending so much time with that damn rabbit. More than him. At this point, Jungkook can’t help but look at the animal and think that it knows exactly what it’s doing. He wouldn’t be surprised if one day the damn animal was cause for you to kick him to the curb.    Mr. Steal Your Girl was very real and it came in the form of a disgustingly cute bunny.   “You know I don’t appreciate that joke.”   He sheds his taupe coat off and you put the bunny down in his large fenced area, petting him once before allowing Jungkook to help take off your own coat to hang up on the rack. “Who’s gonna watch it when we’re on our honeymoon?”   “Since when are we having a honeymoon?” You move to the fridge, looking for the celery. “You’re going to need to propose to me first before that happens. And if it ever happens—”   “When it happens,” he corrects.   “—Taehyung can watch him for us.”   “Taehyung can’t wipe his own ass.”   “Hey,” you twist around to defend your friend. “That only happened once because the men’s washroom ran out of toilet paper. What else was he supposed to do?”   “That’s what he says.” Jungkook grins, nose wrinkling. “I think he just forgot to wipe.”   You tottle over with celery in hand, leaning over the fence to feed the rabbit. At the same time, Jungkook’s phone lights up and he looks over the screen. “Namjoon just texted the group chat. He wants us to meet him at the rink.”   “But we just got home.” You pet the rabbit before leaving it alone, standing straight to pout at your boyfriend. Then, your expression lights up and a new idea spills from your lips— “Should we ditch?”   “Little Miss. Goody Two Shoes wants to ditch?” Jungkook grins and throws his phone on the couch, abandoning it to circle his arms around your waist. “Unheard of.”   “Only cause I’d rather go to bed and cuddle with you right now.”   “Sounds like a plan.” But before anyone moves, Jungkook can’t resist the urge to kiss you. He leans down, softly sealing your lips with his, gentle and saving more for later. It subtly takes like that vanilla ice-cream you two had for dessert and your smile against his mouth. Jungkook eventually pulls away and in the quietness of your shared apartment, except for the damn animal a few meters away still nibbling on a celery stalk, he whispers, “I’m so glad….”   “For what?”   “I don’t know. That I got to meet you. That you decided to actually talk to me instead of ignoring me.”   “I already apologized for that,” you sulk. “And it was because you were so insistent on getting to know me.”   He laughs and sighs softly, leaning his forehead on yours. “I’m just...happy to be here.”   There’s a pause. “You’re not proposing to me right now, are you?”   “No…” Jungkook moves away, knowing he’s treading on dangerous territory. He’s uncertain as he reads your expression. “...unless I should be….”   You giggle, poking his chest and he lets go of you. “You probably need a ring first. And please don’t bring Taehyung or Yoonji when you go ring shopping. She’d make you get something outrageous just to see you go broke, and don’t tell Taehyung but he...kind of has bad tastes.”   “What do you mean? I love that vase he got us during our housewarming party.” The pair of you look over to the coffee table where the flesh colour vase is. It’s a swirly shape, slightly curved and reminiscent to an erect dick — that’s what art is apparently. “I mean...the vase he made us.”   You tear your eyes away from the show stealer of the room, going back to the main conversation at hand. “Bring Junmyeon. He’s sensible and reasonable and he’d follow the budget. Or maybe Yoongi. I feel like he’d have a solid opinion.”   “Okay. But who says I don’t already have it?”   You step back in surprise, eyes wide. “Really?”   The phone abruptly rings. The sound is loud, interrupting the intimate moment. One glance at the screen and you two find Adora calling, probably angry that you’re ignoring the messages.   “We should probably go before she gets mad. Unless...you were serious about ditching.”   “No. Yoonji or Taehyung might end up breaking down our door. C’mon.” As tempting as it is to just curl up in bed with Jungkook, you have tomorrow and the next day and the next day after that to be with him. Years and years, in fact. So you muster up energy, walking over and tossing him his jacket. “Let’s go.”   Jungkook walks out the door, fingers laced together, holding your hand tightly. You leave together, perhaps to prepare for another competition, another match, another game. No matter what it is, he feels at ease that you’re here — chest warm, the regrets harboured no longer important.   Jungkook could take on anything.   Before the front door shuts, the lights in the hallway catch the display case by the television.    The two gold medals inside glimmer.

Cause & Æffect: art that speaks out, Indiana State Museum, Indianapolis, June 14th, 2020 — August 2nd, 2020.

In celebration of the centennial of women’s suffrage, the State Museum gathered together works from 14 different women artists who have lived, worked, or were born in Indiana. The exhibitions grants space to examine how art is used as a tool to speak out challenging topics such as mental health, the death penalty, migrant labor, and cancer. In doing so, visitors are asked to open themselves to conversations with each work and ponder how they can use art to create emotional affect and real-world effect.

Anila Quayyam Agha’s Flight of a Thousand Birds (2019) consists of a single stainless steel disk suspended before a blank wall, casting three overlapping shadows behind and two brilliant reflections before it.

The piece, in the didactic text, is meant to discuss the mingling of Agha’s multifaith and Pakistani/North American culture. The play between light/shadow embodies how there are identities that glance beneath our actions and our skin and also those that we reflect out to be seen. There is one person but the shadows they cast are indistinguishable as being from separate entities. Yet the identity we chose to show can be distorted by our environment or the situation in which we find ourselves in just as our shadows can. The circular and triadic geometry echoes the all-encompassing yet divisionary aspects of these facets. Though Agha’s piece references religion, these are not religious symbols like the crescent or the cross, choosing instead to preference aniconic influence. Agha gives no definite place to either side of her identity, instead creating a tangled after image of movement. Like a flock of birds taking flight, these patterns are constantly mingling and changing, just as our own sense of self shifts with the sun.

Mary Beth Edelson, on the other hand, takes an iconic masterpiece (Da Vinci’s The Last Supper) and recasts the apostles with (at the time, living) American women artists in Some Living American Women Artists/The Last Supper (1972). 

Surrounding the altered print are the headshots of over 60 more women artists who have historically/culturally/academically not been given place in the art historical cannon. Georgia O’Keeffe takes the honored role of Jesus at the table. While not the first American woman artist by a long shot, she was one to bring them into the status of “Art Star”. Edelson’s piece is controversial in its appropriation of religious imagery for the discussion of feminism. If one is familiar with Linda Nochlin’s essay “Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists?" a secondary interpretation arises; that the only way for these women to hold a place in the museum is for them to recapitulate the styles and performance of accepted male masters. Edelson’s print then can be read as an outcry against the lack of representation of female artists in museums (I personally would not be surprised if Edelson admitted to being a member of the Guerrilla Girls). Notably, none of the 13 artists representing the apostles belong to the traditional painting genre. They span the Expressionist, Surrealist, and Contemporary which is a solid rebuke against the Academic style represented by Da Vinci. It is a critique of the axiological system of the present art historical survey. Edelson also contributed story gathering boxes for visitors to fill out and start a conversation about what our mothers/fathers taught us about our gender and the binary opposite gender.

Lingering in the center of the gallery are two pieces about sexual violence. Lori Miles and Jeanette Johnson-Licon’s The Elephant in the Room (2015) is indeed an elephant in the room. 

It is not obtrusively large or even within sightline when first approaching the gallery. Big, yes. Yet even the didactic calls the sculpture a ‘little elephant’. The pachyderm is made of plexiglass and a rolling wooden cart. The former material supplies a paradoxical presence. Elephants are massive and durable. Glass is typically not. The animal is here, and yet it is transparent. Present and invisible. A specter that haunts college campuses across the country. The Elephant embodies the conversations around sexual violence; the violence itself is ubiquitous, undeniably real, and clear to see, however that same transparency belies the greater reluctance to confront it, instead seeing right through it as if it is not there. The animal is minimized and rendered into slices that when removed from the whole become unrecognizable. One might argue that the choice to use glass is to represent how sexual violence is a delicate issue that must be treated with a feather-light touch. We don’t want to shatter the glass and cut ourselves on the pieces. But plexiglass is one of the strongest forms of glass available. It is used in shielding because of its resistance to fracture underscoring that the issue of sexual violence itself does not warrant such tedious handling. Of course, survivors deserve to be handled carefully. Not in the way a vase does, but in the way a living creature does. With respect, with gentleness and compassion. Afterall, when treated aggressively, elephants are known to stampede.

Beside The Elephant is a participatory installation by Monica Myer. The Clothesline (1978 - ongoing) began in Mexico City and has traveled across the continent to the heart of the heartland.

Its presence consists of two pink drying racks with lengths of nylon line running around the perimeter, pink cards are pinned to the nylon like laundry. The rectangular dimensions recall a child’s twin bed. Each card details the experience of sexual violence of an anonymous participant. A table is provided with blank cards for visitors to contribute their own testimonies. While there are other large installations in the gallery, the near neon pink of the paper draws the eye to it. This piece demands attention. The words scream silently from the paper. The Clothesline comes into conversation with The Elephant, the former laying bare the trauma that the latter represents. Together they take space and make an immovable statement.

This brings me to the only disappointment of the exhibition. Cause & Æffect presents itself as a celebration of the suffrage centennial…online. The gallery itself makes no mention of it. There is no signage, no didactic to clearly state such. 

The lack of discussion around suffrage and the lack of acknowledgement that this is the centennial of white women’s suffrage. Black women would not get the vote until 1964 and First Nations would still be barred in some states until 1962. Given that there are several pieces in the exhibition specifically about elections and ethnicity and the ability of visitors to see the artefacts of suffrage one level down, the absence of any concrete reference to suffrage undermines that aspect of the exhibition as a whole.

Overall, Cause & Æffect challenges visitors to re-evaluate the role of art as a tool of inspiring change. It asks us what we will stand for, what we will speak out against, and how we will speak out for our cause? What visitors are presented with as a whole is a garden of community, pride, and revolution.

Homeschool/Field trip Activities

Elementary: What do you think makes a good neighbor? How can you be a good neighbor to your classmates? (House Life Project, 2017); What is a cause you care a lot about? How would you use art to talk about it?

Middle: Pick a cause represented by a work and write a paragraph about how it relates to one of the displays in the Natural History or Cultural galleries; fill out a form for the gender equality box, then look through other responses and journal your reaction to them; create a piece of art that reacts to the exhibition or a piece within it; you are a member of the suffrage movement, what art do you create to speak out for your cause?

High: Pick a cause represented by a work and write a page about how it relates to one of the displays in the Natural History or Cultural galleries. Include primary sources to support your thesis; write a paragraph about which of these works speaks loudest to you emotionally? Personally? Ethically? Locally?; what other times has art been used as a tool to speak out on a global stage? Why was it effective/affective? How did it invoke such responses? (For example Le Radeau de la Méduse (1818-19) by Theodore Gericault.); react to The Elephant and The Clothesline in whatever medium you feel is best.