Yeah, when Dana cornered me on the HP thing last night, the first thing I thought of was the Sturm und Drang in Smallville fandom when there were kerfuffles over slashing a 15 year-old Clark Kent. (I also started humming "Mrs. Robinson", but that's neither here nor there.)
I acknowledge that it's not quite the same, what with Tom Welling being around 10 years older than his character, but I thought then and still think that it's disingenuous to conflate fan fiction, fannish behavior, fantasy, and definitely sexual fantasy.
Sure, I think that quite a few HP actors are attractive boys. Of course, if one of them ever hit on me, I'd pat him on the head and feed him cookies.
Because when taken out of context, any kind of fantasy I'd have -- including ones that potentially would be considered inappropriate or objectionable -- breaks down. At least, for me, and I think for the majority of people. Although I don't watch Jerry Springer, so perhaps I'm wearing glasses with a rose tint.
Is someone willing to do a
really
quick and dirty beta reading of a 1600 word CSI fic that needs to be posted by 12:00 am Eastern time?
I'd be happy to return the favor, Anne. You can hit me at the profile address.
If aesthetic appreciation of pubescent boys is your thing, I highly recommend
The Boy
by Germaine Greer. Mmm... art historical.
Salieri is a god. This story just about made me cry, it's so incredibly beautiful. Lush, gorgeous prose and splendid characterizations. Plus, pumpkin pie!
How to survive after a nuclear holocaust:
Prince Michael finally established a routine and knowing that the daytime was a preferred time to venture out into the wasteland, would set up missions and find pockets of insurgency that slept during the intense heat of daylight, and attack them with zero casualties.
The difference between those outside and Prince Michael’s people simply being that the rouge group of sovereign individuals was never exposed unprotected to the atmosphere and the rest were exposed at the time of the attacks to the oxygen on the outside that was laden with ether.
What's a rouge group?
Two years had evolved since Armageddon, the resistance was gaining ground, 5 babies had been born to the Birkoff twins and to Mowen and Sarah, all products of Invitro fertilization and cloning.
Exposition is boring! Let's just jump ahead two years!
And in another story, in which Michael and Nikita are literally stranded on a desert island:
Because clothing was not a necessity, Nikita had fashioned covers and towels from the items of clothing they had in the boat. The couple wore bathing suits most of the time and as time passed Nikita created a line she called, ‘You Tarzan, Me Jane’, made of the hide of the wild boars that they ate, nothing gone to waste.
Michael had pleased her beyond believe when he concocted sunscreen using fruit, mud and coconut milk, trying many combinations of natural ingredients until he found the correct consistency for Nikita’s fair skin.
Next, they're going to make a telephone from coconut shells.
She interrupted, her blonde hair wild around her magnificent tanned face, she was angry, “I’ll have you know I am not a virgin, Helmut always said I gave great head.” With this she brought her hands to her mouth and gasped at the crude bombshell.
“That was a divine manifestation, a bit coarse but… Look Kita, this Helmut character was not a gentleman and even though you wear this pronouncement as a sexual badge of courage, it is not ladylike to repeat such things. I think of you as a little sister, we are here to survive, hopefully finish fixing the boat and go back to resolve the problems you have with your stepfather Paul…” He said while holding both her hands and looking at her with a studied gaze, familial and brotherly.
Remember, girls. It's not ladylike to give good head.
Nikita created a line she called, ‘You Tarzan, Me Jane’,
Amazing. Stranded on a desert island, she's creating couture wear!
Well, at least the sunscreen's useful.
