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cho-archive · 1 year

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Hook Up (re-post+re-write)

Somebody hooked up in the boys' bathroom and the evidence is left behind on the common room’s table.

“Nobody is moving that damned thong until the owner grows a pair and admits to it.”

The og post is here on my ao3! suggestive material. afab+fem reader

It rocked the entire Class 1A dormitory, showing up out of nowhere like a thief in the night. The only hint left behind alongside the evidence was a small note from the cleaning company UA hired to maintain the dorms weekly. Folded neatly and placed delicately smack dab on the middle of the table in the living room, was an equally neat, and delicate thong.

By the time the majority of class 1A had woken up, the garment had been poked, prodded, and flung like a frisbee by all those who had the misfortune of curiously picking it up. It was all for nought though. Those who were brave enough to play investigator were only left with more questions than answers after realizing just what the mysterious material was.

Ojiro who was currently closest to it, having sat down to watch the morning news, was struggling in vain to keep his eyes on the TV. Even Tokoyami who had his lustrous feathers to cover up his blushed cheeks fidgeted as he listened to the forecast.

Seconds ticked by like hours.

They’d both rather sit in awkward silence and act like it wasn’t there. Nobody dared to be the fool who would bring attention to it.

That fool's name was Denki Kaminari.

“Gooood morning, future heros! And just what are we watching today on televi- holy shit!”

Most of the dorm’s inhabitants paid no mind to the electric quirk user, already having become accustomed to his sporadic yelling about this and that topic. Kaminari, however, was quite literally short circuiting where he stood. “Is that a th-th-th-”

“Thong!?” Midoriya slapped both of his hands over his mouth. After turning the corner, he got the shock of his life from seeing the talk of the morning hanging off the side of the table.

The usually meek male’s outburst caused more than one head to turn, until eventually almost the entire class was crowded around Midoriya, and more importantly- the table.

Mumbles were exchanged amongst the cluster. It was hot on everyone’s mind, wondering just who it belonged to. Some students shrugged while others blushed. There were even the few who slipped away, not wanting to bother themselves with the drama.

“Oi! Stop crowding the fucking TV, you extras. What’s everybody standing around for, huh?” Bakugou shoved his way to the center, his irritation only skyrocketing when his question went unanswered. It was rhetorical, of course, but how dare they ignore him! Just what was so important that they couldn’t be bothered to even give him a reaction?

“Um, Kacchan?”

‘No. Anybody but him,’ Bakugou internally moped. ‘He’s not the damn attention I was looking for.’

Bakugou’s eyes did a quick glance of the room before locking on your form in the kitchen with laser-like accuracy. Seeing you provided the hot head with a temporary reprieve, your melodic giggling successfully fending off his incoming headache.

He almost smiled to himself at how cute you looked in your apron but it was quickly slapped off after hearing Midoriya’s attempt to answer his initial question.

“There’s, uh…” Midoriya glanced around for help, but nobody was taking the bait. His green orbs darted all over the room before focusing on the pair of underwear. He swore it felt like it had eyes and was staring back at him.

Bakugou, as always, quickly caught on and let out a harsh bark of irritated laughter.

“Hah! So, that’s what’s got everyone with a stick up their asses? Well, I’ll tell ya this much, whoever’s it is must really be looking for an ass beating. I sit on this couch!” He eyed the sofa with disgust.

“It came from the bathroom actually.”

Several pairs of eyes turned towards the redhead in shock after hearing his confession.

“Kirishima? I didn’t know you had it in you, buddy!” Sero wrapped an arm around his now stuttering friend’s shoulder and ushered him towards the table. Even if it wasn’t Kirishima’s, he didn’t mind his friend taking the blame. Anything to get the underwear out of sight already.

Being under the heat of everyone’s gaze, Kirishima quickly put his hands up in surrender, eyes bugging out.

“What? N-No! It wasn’t me, man!” He held up a single cardstock as if it were made of glass, hoping the paper would prove his supposed innocence. “I mean, that’s just what the note says!”

“Ahem! ‘Found this in the boy’s bathroom when we were cleaning and laundered it for you! Enjoy~ Yamamoto's Cleaning Company.’” Kaminari read aloud to the room before he scoffed and flung the card onto the table. “Yeah, they did enjoy themself, I’m sure.” He eyed his friend wearily and Kirishima waved him off.

“Hey, it wasn’t me, guys. I don’t wear things like that anyways.”

“...We all have our preferences.”

It was just a low mumble, but those who had heard it turned to Sero. “I-I just meant that some guys prefer wearing that type of thing! I didn’t mean it was mine! Besides, that can’t even fit me!” Sero backed up slowly as if he had committed a crime and Bakugou smirked wickedly.

“I bet we can make it fit you!” The blond snatched the thong and charged towards Sero. It wasn’t until a few seconds later that his brain registered just how soft the lace was. “Argh!” Bakugou suddenly dropped the thong on the floor as if it were made of fire.

The room silenced itself as everyone stared at Bakugou. He looked down at his own hand incredulously. He couldn’t believe his own appendage just betrayed him like that. Purposely using his innocent hand to rub his reddening cheek roughly, he protested. “Hey, don’t you fuckers look at me like that. Just because I touched it doesn’t mean I know whose it is.”

“How do we know it’s not yours?” Kaminari grinned, turning the tables and successfully diverting everyone’s attention.

“It’s fucking not, okay?! That frilly shit ain’t mine. In fact,” He turned around towards the kitchen. “Oi! You extras gonna spend all day over there? Your cover’s been blown so might as well own up to this shit!”

The group looked over, uninterested, and turned back to their own conversations. “Hey!” Bakugou screeched, the vein in his forehead throbbing with irritation. “Don’t fucking ignore me! I’m talking to you shitheads!”

You glanced over your shoulder at the guys in the living room section of the common area and commented off handedly,

“We’re not interested in your dick measuring contest. Go away.”

Bakugou’s jaw dropped and before he could go over and give you a piece of his mind, Mina threw an arm over your shoulder and stuck her tongue out at him.

“Yeah! We’re trying to make banana bread over here and you’re totally distracting us. Go find someone else to yell at!” You two joined Uraraka where she was dicing up the fruit and Bakugou growled. He’d been brushed off one too many times today.

“If one of you extra bitches don’t come here and move your fucking thong from the table, I’m going to blow it the fuck up!”

That certainly did the trick.

Turning in unison, there were varying looks of horror stretched across each of their faces. Yours included.

“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought. Now, hurry it up.”

Banana bread long forgotten, the crowd around the table grew larger as the fairer half of the class joined in.

“So, which one of you lovely ladies are a fan of lace?” Denki smirked and pointed at the floor where Bakugou had ever so gracefully dropped the item.

It was almost amusing how their eyes collectively widened in recognition, everyone’s gazes sticking to the floor like glue, lest one of them look up and give away whose it was. It was like watching an organized crime.

“We’re waiting,” Denki singsonged teasingly.

“Whatever! You guys are making a big deal out of nothing.” Toru’s shirt wrinkled from where she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Yeah! How do we know it’s not one of yours?” Mina piped in.

Bakugou’s face flushed as he remembered the feeling of the soft material in his hands, and for once, he opted to keep his mouth shut.

“W-Well, it doesn’t fit us, and none of us have claimed it as our own. So, logically it has to be one of yours. Not that we’re blaming you! It’s just... we would appreciate it if you moved it from the common room. Oh! I’m not saying it’s ugly! It’s actually, uh, very nice! W-Wait! What I meant is-”

“What Midoriya is trying to say is, although it is a very attractive garment, it is highly inappropriate to have laying around casually in a shared environment. These matters should be kept private!” Iida firmly concluded his speech with a chop, though his pink cheeks and ears gave away just how flustered he was.

“How do you know it wouldn’t fit you though?” Tsuyu thought out loud with a bulbous finger to her chin.

Everyone blinked and looked around. Her words infiltrated their minds and caused everyone to look at each other suspiciously. The tall male who had been standing in the corner and silently watching the whole debacle stepped forward with an annoyed face.

Todoroki bent down to pick up the garment delicately, causing a few gasps. His deft fingers swiftly unraveled it, paying no mind to the chattering around him. It was glaringly obvious that it was not his size after he pinned the material against his own hips. Waiting a few moments to let it sink in for everyone, he sighed heavily before placing it back on the table.

“It doesn’t belong to me. Don’t waste my time on things like this,” he deadpanned and walked off without a hitch.

Everyone stared at his back until he disappeared from view, his bold actions replaying over and over again in their heads.

Kaminari snorted and broke the silence.

“Well, his hips certainly don’t lie!”

A collective groan resonated through the room at his quip but Bakugou ignored it. They weren’t getting any closer to solving the root of the problem and it was eating away at him big time.

“Well, if you girls are gonna be a wuss then too bad,” Bakugou all but growled out. “Nobody is moving that damned thong until the owner grows a pair and admits to it.”

...Was the deal that had been made a week ago, but there was still no luck. The common room was almost always populated by either a random gaggle of friends or even lone riders. No doubt, that was one of the reasons the rightful owner probably hesitated in trying to anonymously retrieve their undergarment. Even after a fortnight, the launderers had once again washed and replaced the thong on the table, clearly not willing to take part in whatever weird hijinks were happening in the dorms.

Having made a home of the communal table for longer than a celebrity marriage, the garment almost seemed like a decoration. Still, nobody would dare put the remote too close or openly stare at it, lest any accusations befall them.

By now, the shock value had dissipated and most turned a blind eye, save for one man.

“I wonder if whoever owns that thing had to go commando because they were missing it,” Kaminari mused with a hand on his chin. Sero snorted. Leave it to Kaminari to approach the subject in the most obscure way possible.

“You idiot. Obviously, they would have more than one pair of underwear. Stop being weird,” Sero chided him, though he failed to mention that the exact thought had run across his mind before as well. Kaminari waved him off and turned towards Mina who was seated on an adjacent couch while typing on her phone.

“Hey, Mina! Do you know whose it is?” Denki wiggled his eyebrows playfully and Kirishima slapped the blonde’s shoulder lightly for asking such a question.

“Dude! You can’t just ask her that. You’ll make her uncomf-”

“Yep.”

The boys turned to look at her and she shrugged, “I’m not telling whose it is, but all of the girls know who it belongs to... and the story behind it.”

“The… story?” Kirishima mimicked her dramatic pause hesitantly, not knowing if he should take it any further. Mina unashamedly giggled, a wicked joy taking over her at how they all subconsciously leaned closer with red faces.

“Well, duh! You don’t think it just grew legs and crawled into the Men’s bathroom on it’s own, do ya? The owner of this pretty, little thing,” she stretched her legs that were perched on the table to nudge it with a sock covered toe, “was engaging in some… after practice, practice with somebody and forgot to pick it up on her way out.”

“‘After practice, practice?’” Sero was thoroughly perplexed. Kirishima stayed quiet but his brow furrowed in confusion.

“She means shower sex, you idiots!” Toru groaned from behind them and got up from the couch to leave. The remaining group blushed and Denki cleared his throat nervously.

Does he dare ask?

“Do you, uh, do you know who the guy she was with is?”

Mina smirked wider.

“You betcha.”

Over the next week, the thong was like a washed up pop star, it’s infamy resurfacing after the newest batch of rumors. News had eventually spread of just why the thong was found in the bathroom, and now nobody could look at it without blushing at the implications. Still, a few brave souls were seated in the common room tensely, trying desperately to keep their gazes on the TV screen. A sudden click from behind let them know that they would be having company. Uraraka glanced over her shoulder and smiled.

“Heyo, Mr. Aizawa!” She greeted him with a wave before she turned back around to continue watching the movie.

Wait. Everyone froze in synchronization so perfectly that they probably could’ve formed an Olympic swim team- and won gold.

“Mr. Aizawa?!”

Looking between the scraggly man, and the thong on the table, the group of adults panicked.

“Mr. Aizawa!” Midoriya chuckled nervously and glanced over his own shoulder. Kirishima quickly evacuated his seat and was now lounging on the table in order to block their teacher's direct line of sight from the enemy.

Midoriya scratched his cheek and laughed nervously. “Haha, you usually only come here once a month to make sure all of our appliances are working p-properly! What are you doing here?!”

Aizawa deadpanned and walked closer to where they were.

“I came here as I usually do once a month to make sure all of your appliances are working properly.”

His flat sarcasm made Midoriya wince. So, that certainly didn’t buy them any time. Momo bit her lip in thought, eyes sweeping the room for a life line. Eventually she landed on the kitchen and jumped out of her seat.

“Mr. Aizawa! As you are a guest here, please, allow me to make you a cup of tea!” She placed a hand on his back and turned to steer him towards the kitchen.

“Yeah! Yaomomo makes the best tea, Sir. Heh, you should really try it!” Uraraka joined her friend in guiding their teacher to the kitchen and glanced behind at the guys. Both ladies turned slightly, frantically motioning with their hands and mouthing ‘hide it!’

It was a battle of willpower between Midoriya, Kirishima, Bakugou and Todoroki. They glanced between themselves, all looking at the others as if to say, ‘I’m not doing it, you do it!’

“That’s very nice, ladies, but I don’t have time for tea,” Aizawa started walking back towards the table with such conviction that even Bakugou felt his heart drop.

“Hurry the fuck up before Aizawa sees it, shitheads!’ Bakugou said as quietly as he could. Which wasn’t very quiet at all.

“Sees what?” Their professor walked closer, suspecting something now.

They were so dead.

Being the one closest to it, Kirishima quickly snatched the thong up. He looked down to the left, and down to the right. Ah, dammit! Why didn’t his pants have any pockets?! A lightbulb flashed over his head and he stuffed it under the waistband of his sweatpants with break-neck speed, proud of his own quick thinking. A second later, he seemed to realize what he just did, making his eyes go wide. “Wait!”

Before he could take it out and hide it somewhere else, their teacher rounded the corner of the sofa and stared down the four men harshly. There was a shuffling of feet and when they turned, they could see Uraraka and Momo giggling and running upstairs, leaving them to deal with this alone. So much for class solidarity!

“What’s going on here.” Rather than a question, it was a dry statement that got no answer. Aizawa sighed and looked around.

Bakugou was leering ferociously at the television. Normal. Midoriya nervously vibrated like a broken Tracfone while staring into space. Normal. Todoroki was watching him head on with that blank look on his face. Normal.

The scene looked so mundane, but there was a rosy tint sweeping their faces that made Aizawa raise an eyebrow. He did one more glance around and stopped at the red haired man sitting in the middle of the couch. “Kirishima. What are you doing?”

“Yip!” Kirishima jolted upon hearing his name. His legs were stretched straight so that his heels were firmly resting on top of the table, but it didn’t help ground him at all. If the sweat pooling his forehead didn’t make it obvious, his posture certainly did. A steel rod couldn’t compare to how stiff his back was, and trembling hands cupped his crotch shakily. Clearly, he was up to something. “Uh, nothing, sir!”

“Let me see your hands,” his professor asked, thinking there would be something the man was hiding in his palms. He didn’t put it past his students to try sneaking prohibited items into the dorms. So long as it wasn’t a weapon, he didn't care quite frankly. Still, the atmosphere in the room left a lot to be desired, so he pushed forward with his investigation. Kirishima shakily moved his hands and Aizawa stiffened. “...What is that?”

They all trailed their eyes to awkwardly stare at Kirishima’s lap.

There was a slight bulge in his pants from where the garment had balled up, but the size and shape was almost a criminal offence. Aizawa wasn’t one to pry, but it was obvious that there was something hiding in his pants.

The room was quiet until Todoroki broke it, lifeless as usual.

“Oh. I think that’s just his quirk, Sir.”

Aizawa slapped a hand over his eyes and sighed.

“Never in my life thought I would ask this, but...What are you hiding in your pants, Kirishima?”

Midoriya discreetly rolled his quivering lips into his mouth, but Bakugou wasn’t as considerate with his loud snort. Kirishima shot Bakugou a dirty look before shaking his head.

“Uh, it’s n-nothing!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Mr. Aithawa,” Kirishima bit his tongue by accident from how nervous he was.

Aizawa sighed heavily and walked away, letting them breathe a collective sigh of relief.

“Midoriya.”

Oh, no.

They all turned around and saw their professor had moved to stand directly behind the dark haired male.

Oh, no.

“What is Kirishima hiding in his pants?”

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

Talk about strategy, he went straight for their weakest link! Bakugou discreetly shook his head at his childhood enemy, and made a slitting motion over his throat.

“I’m not going to ask again, Midoriya,” Aizawa stared at him sternly.

“Eep! He’s hiding a size __, black, lace thong in his pants, Mr. Aizawa!” Midoriya slapped a hand over his mouth, and everyone’s eyes widened. Aizawa from not expecting it, and the others from the amount of detail he just went into.

The world shook under the weight of Aizawa’s sigh. He headed straight for the exit of the dorms, not even bothering to check their appliances. The entire way there, he mumbled something along the lines of, ‘be a teacher Mic said…’

Four sets of eyes followed him to the exit, and only when they were sure that the coast was clear did Kirishima quickly pull the garment out of his pants. Throwing it on the table carelessly, his entire face rivaled his hair from how warm the thong got whilst inside his clothing. His entire body was practically an anchor by now, sinking under the stress he had just been put through, making him melt into the couch.

“No fucking way,” Bakugou said rashly. He chuckled lowly and pressed the heels of his palms over his eyes, his grating laughter only growing in volume. Kirishima used whatever energy he had left to glance over at the uncharacteristic display while Midoriya and Tododroki stared openly at the ticking time bomb.

Surprisingly enough, Bakugou wiped a few humorous tears from his eyes and got up while pointing a finger towards his classmate. “Is that your quirk too?”

Bakugou snorted one last time and walked off to go upstairs while the three remaining men followed where he had just pointed.

“Oh!” Kirishima blushed wildly, Midoriya squeaked, and Todoroki raised an eyebrow at the firm lump that had started to form where the hidden thong had been just seconds ago, the outline too pronounced and smooth to be considered a part of his quirk.

“I’m beat, guys. You finish watching the rest without me,” Sero got up and stretched out his lazy limbs before stumbling off in the direction of the elevator.

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna head in too now,” Kaminari faked a yawn before darting after Sero, yelling over his shoulder, “have fun cleaning up!”

“Wha- guys!” Kirishima turned to stop them, but the room had already cleared out. The mess of empty cans and wappers littering the floor was definitely more than a one man job. Hell, they even left behind the empty pizza boxes! Kirishima groaned and took off the TV. Better start now if he wanted to finish anytime before dawn.

Luckily, it didn’t take too long before the living room was passable for habitation. Spotting one last empty candy wrapper poking out from underneath the table, Kirishima dropped to his knees to retrieve it. He was only an inch away when soft whispers slithered into his ears. He’d seen one horror movie too many during their weekend marathon and was ready to assemble the entire 1-A to do some Ghostbusting when he caught on to just what was being whispered.

“Go get it already. I heard them take the elevator up,” a low voice commanded.

“Me?! Why do I have to get it?!”

Kirishima froze as he recognized your voice. He blushed lightly when he thought of the new blouse you donned earlier, but quickly waved the mental image away. He needed to focus!

“Because it’s yours,” your male counterpart reasoned.

Kirishima tilted his head in confusion, his freshly washed hair almost serving as a mop for the dust bunnies on the ground. With a quiet gasp, he quickly pieced together what the two of you were talking about and gulped. Glancing up at where the thong was on the table, he panicked. You were coming to get it now?! He couldn’t let you two see him! That would be way too embarrassing!

As quietly as he could, Kirishima shuffled to lay on the floor and slid himself under the table.

The footsteps got closer and it made your voice all the more distinct to his red ears.

“I don’t care if it’s mine, you’re the one who put it in your pocket! You should have been more careful to not drop it!”

“Well, excuse me. I was busy trying to balance you against the wall while trying not to slip. I would never forgive myself if I dropped you,” The last part was mumbled quieter than the rest and Kirishima’s eyes widened before he heard a quiet ‘aw.’ Soft and wet sounds of lip meeting lip echoed in the now empty room and Kirishima swore he would join in with that symphony of noises soon if his pounding heart didn’t pipe down. Luckily, after a few moans and sighs, the kissing ceased.

“You’re still not off the hook. Go get it for me.” There was a pause and Kirishima could only assume whoever was with you was rolling their eyes before he heard a loud slap.

Kirishima gasped quietly. Right as his knee bent to push himself up so that he could give a piece of his mind to whoever just dared lay a hand on you, he heard a needy moan that had him literally drop dead to the floor.

“Stop acting like such a brat,” the deep voice was muffled and Kirishima willed his breaths to quiet down when you whined in response.

“Mmm, but please go get it? Can you do that for me, baby?”

There was another spank, though significantly softer this time, and a sigh.

“Fine.”

The footfalls approaching the table pounded like a drum in Kirishima’s well trained ears despite it actually being as light as a feather. Whoever was coming to retrieve the thong could be an assassin with how light their steps were! Wait- This wasn’t the time for that! Judging by the sound of the spanking earlier, he definitely did not want to get caught either. Bringing his knees to his chest, Kirishima cursed softly when his clothes made a swiping noise from brushing the bottom of the table.

The figure walking towards Kirishima paused momentarily, feet right in front of his face now.

The redhead wanted to peek out from under the table but he was scared of getting caught. Instead, he racked his brain to try and place where he had seen those socks before. Wears plain, white socks and walkes quieter than a mouse, huh?

He waited a few minutes in sheer anxiety after he heard the elevator go up before climbing out and dusting off his clothing.

Oh, right! The wrapper!

He bent back down to snatch up the trash and went to throw it out when he heard that same deep voice from earlier, though it was tinged with something darker now.

“Kirishima.”

Kirishima froze in place. There wouldn’t happen to be another ‘Kirishima’ in the dorm, would there? He thought the pepperoni pizza from earlier would come up from how badly his stomach churned. Still, he had to face the facts, so he turned with a nervous smile on his face.

Despite his classmate’s harsh visage, the blow was softened by the slightly twisted and rumpled night shirt he wore. No doubt his rare sloppy apparel was the result of the frisky movements he had engaged in with you just moments prior. Kirishima trailed his gaze upwards and froze at the intensity in those mismatched eyes.

“Todoroki! Hey, buddy! Come down to watch some late night television? There’s a real gnarly documentary I saved on the DVR if you wanna watch it!” Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck nervously and smiled as if he hadn’t just overheard the man in front of him engage in light foreplay.

Todoroki looked down at him, arms crossed over his broad chest and thoroughly unamused. He walked closer and Kirishima couldn’t help but notice how messy his hair was, the paler half being bathed with strands of red and vice versa. Even his thin lips showed slight signs of swelling. These perverse observations were cut off by Todoroki’s stern warning.

“Not that you will ever be in another situation that warrants it, but don’t touch any of my girlfriend’s undergarments again.”

Kirishima gave him a rapid nod and Todoroki returned it before walking off. He paused at the doorway with tense shoulders, voice doing nothing to hide his anger. “Also, if you ever think of her in a way that causes you to become aroused again, we’re going to have a problem.”

Kirishima blushed deeply when he thought back to his boner on the couch.

“Heh, don’t worry about it, man! I hear you loud and clear!” Kirishima laughed bashfully and raised a cheerful fist in the air, but Todoroki had already started making his way towards the elevator. “Trust me, bro! I won’t let it happen a third time!”

Kirishima nodded resolutely to himself and went to throw away the forgotten wrapper. Only after disposing of it, did he hear a small crash followed by an incredulous voice.

“‘A third time’?!”

#bnha fanfic #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfic #mha x reader #mha fanfiction #todoroki x you #todoroki x reader

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ladyloveandjustice · 9 months

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Spring 2023 Anime Overview: Yuri is my Job!

Premise: Hime Shiraki is a high schooler whose life goal is to be always cute and loved by everyone so she can achieve her dream of marrying a millionaire and living the easy life. Who cares if that means she has to lie and pretend? But then she’s roped into working at a café. The waitresses of the cafe playact as students from a fictional all girl’s school from a famous novel that focused on ‘romantic friendships’ between schoolgirls. (It’s a Class S yuri café basically. They put on a show that has the vibes and premise of Maria Watches Over Us for customers.)

Hime’s already great at acting, but she’s flummoxed by her co-worker Mitsuki. Mitsuki acts like a doting upperclassman when they’re in front of customers, but the second they’re off the clock, she’s harsh and cold to Hime. Hime is determined to make Mitsuki like her, but Mitsuki may be more than she appears…

At it's core, Yuri is My Job starts out seeming like a fun gay comedy boasting a cast full of quirky lesbians, but then reveals itself to be a complicated and fascinating examination of performance- as it intersects with queerness, girlhood, and the desire to be "likeable" and "cute," The girls at the cafe "perform" romantic friendships with each other- these friendships that they perform are uncomplicated, cute, and consumable to an audience. But the real relationships they have with each other are much less "safe" and much more complex, and the drama they deal with as real people often interferes with the "act".

Hime's entire life is about putting on a performance to seem likeable and acceptably cute to everyone, and she's terrified of seeing that performance fall to pieces. Mitsuki, in contrast, struggled as a child because she COULDN'T acceptably fake that "likeable" cuteness. She was too honest, too blunt and awkward, too "real". Most queer people know the stress of having to put on an act and hide your real self to be acceptable, and YIMJ explores this wonderfully with these characters.

It's not just Hime and Mitsuki,the rest of the cast struggles too. Kanoko is so invested in her role of "supportive best friend" and being the only one Hime drops the act around, she's also suppressing her real self and her real romantic feelings for Hime. As a result, she becomes possessive, jealous, and expresses her feelings in secretive, unhealthy ways. The irony is that she believes in order to access Hime's "real" self, she has to put on her own mask. She can't picture a life outside her role as pining best friend. The pining, obsessive (sometimes in just a mildly quirky way, sometimes not so much) lesbian best friend with an unrequited crush is a well worn trope both in yuri and non-yuri anime-think Tomoyo from CCS- but YIMJ examines the trauma that comes with that and how suppressing a part of yourself to play a role might feed into that obsessive behavior.

Meanwhile. we have Sumika, who is VERY invested in the romantic friendships of the cafe, and had come to believe real romance is toxic and ruins the purity of those relationships. She panics when confronted with the reality of queerness and when she sees two coworkers enter a blatant queer relationship. Sumika's whole deal is maybe the most fascinating at all, and makes a lot of sense if you look at it as a critique of Class S, "pure" yuri, and the fucked up world of internalized lesbophobia.

In recent years, there's been more yuri critiquing the trappings of "Class S" yuri. Class S is yuri that straddles the line between 'friendship' and 'romance', typically taking place in an all-girl's school sealed off from the rest of society, with an either unspoken or spoken implication that the lesbianism is just a transient phase and all the girls will eventually renter the "real world" have to settle down and marry a man.

There's been some pushback against these ideas, obviously. Bloom into You, Run Away with me Girl and many other yuri examine how harmful 'just a phase' rhetoric is towards lesbians. Flip Flappers famously had the episode where the girls were caught in a creepy Class S school that led them on an endless cycle where nothing ever changed and the days were horribly repetitive. Yurikuma Arashi also gave it's (somewhat muddled) critique of Class S. And it's impossible to fully analyze Yuri is my Job without seeing the skillful critique of Class S that's woven into the narrative.

The trappings of class S aren't confined into the world of manga- the idea that lesbianism is just a phase, that girls expressing real romantic or sexual desire toward each other is toxic and sullies the purity of sisterhood, that it's okay to be a LITTLE gay with your gal pals but you can't cross that line!!!- all of that is part of the stigma real queer women struggle with and sometimes internalize. So when we consider Sumika''s terror of actual "romance" invading the cafe and ruining the sisterhood, her ideas that romance must be toxic, her belief that the cafe is this safe space sealed off from the rest of the world where girls can be a little bit queer, but they musn't let the actual problems and messy realities of romance invade- it's not just a Class S critique, it's about a mindset most queer women are familiar with and have to struggle to unlearn. And seeing Sumika grapple with this makes her a very real and wonderfully realized character. And the manga will only continue to go further with those themes.

But Yuri is my Job doesn't just work as a nuanced examination of queerness- it's also a well told drama full of wonderfully fraught relationships. It's fun to see the growing romances and the sweet connections growing between the characters, as complicated as they are. The backstory reveal that explains the tension between Mitsuki and Hime is top tier drama and relationship writing, and there's also a good dose of comedy to keep viewers entertained. Watching this web of relationships become even more tangled, and discovering the baggage all the girls carry is a good (and sometime heartbreaking) time. They're well-done characters. If you enjoy fucked up girls and don't mind a touch of soapy melodrama, you're in for a treat. These girls are a MESS, but a fascinating one.

I should note that it's also very easy to read these characters as neurodivergent- Hime having to craft a "facade" just to socialize regularly, while Mitsuki very obviously struggles with social cues- well, Vrai wrote a whole article on this with their article What role are you playing? Communication, queerness and nerodivergence in Yuri is My Job, so I'll leave that to them.

Yes, Yuri is My Job has all this amazing nuance...and there's a half an episode where Mitsuki's boobs bounce a bunch. It contains multitudes. The episode does touch on both Hime's obvious fascination with what Mitsuki's packin' and the struggle big chested women face when just wearing normal clothes is seen a "lewd"- but YMMV on how it's resolved. They definitely centered Mitsuki's pain (and Hime's thirst), but also mined it for mild comedic fanservice, and the ending is more "we found a good compromise" than the pure "fuck people for sexualizing you in a normal outfit because you have big boobs, wear whatever you want" message that people might want.

I also saw a lot of people get frustrated with how hard everyone is on Hime in the early episodes when she's new to the job- this pretty much stops after episode 3 and the attitude toward her is fully explained, so please give this four episode watch to fully see if this show is for you. (But of course, if you don't like to see girls sometimes expressing attraction in suppressed, unhealthy ways (eSPECIALLY Kanoko), no matter how it's ultimately examined thematically, this isn't the show for you.)

Overall, the YIMJ anime was a faithful adaptation of a wonderful manga- unfortunately, I worry that we'll never get the season two that gives us some of the best moments of the story so far. But hopefully seeing it will inspire you to check out the manga and see how hard this story can go! It's definitely a special one, and I really recommend it.

#yuri is my job #yuri is my job!#watashi no yuri wa oshigoto desu!#watayuri #watashi no yuri wa oshigoto desu #spring 2023 anime #anime overview #my reviews #yuri #anime

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angelinanguish · 7 months

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TL;DR, changed takes on paywall drama. Shit is hellish right now.

Previously I had defended a paywaller against some snark and even posted a little rant supporting "little creators" on my alt and...dear god do I feel fucking stupid. Like- call me an "EA bootlicker" here but my goodness has being passive towards these paywall-leeches totally fucked the community?

Sure in theory supporting the little guy is ideal but in current times it's only perpetuating this weird vulture mentality. Offering your cc and dropping donation links is totally reasonable but swooping into a new community just to peddle broken bullshit makes you no better than EA. At that point you're just trying to create a mini get rich quick scheme.

Not to mention a lot of these paywall creators aren't just utilizing their own content but art and meshes from other creatives. What gives them the right to yoink a digital artist's illustration and slap it on another basic ass crop top that's going to be locked for like what?...seven months, gross. Of course, none of this is meant to back EA in any way. Everyone knows their only interest in this whole mess is preventing non-EA affiliates from profiting off TS4 but that's no excuse for these "simmers" acting out.

Due to all that enabling rhetoric of small artists with a passion for creation being bullied by EA simps or whatever these weirdos feel comfy just crowding into communities they don't care about to make a quick bag only to dip once the well dries up. Let's all be real here that is what's happening.

Do any of us really NEED that one locked pixel dress? no. But are any of these exclusive Patreon content producers entitled to your dollar? again, no. There have been so many situations in which pro-paywallers have gone out of their way to be outwardly disrespectful going so far as to ridicule their detractors for being too broke or even worse. Comparing them to sexual predators for pirating cc. How can a group of people be so fucking self-centered it just doesn't make sense.

All of this to say: how much is too much? Because at this point it really seems like anything goes so long as you aren't EA. As if being independent makes any of this poor behavior virtuous. I'm sure Karl Marx is saluting you guys from the afterlife for selling broken hats to other minimum-wage workers and then whining when called out for poor craftsmanship.

Real working-class heroes you guys are. Good job.

(But seriously, if you aren't willing to pay for EA's poolside Splish Splash whatever the fuck kit please don't buy someone else's BGC addons. Don't get got. Neither are worth it in the end)

#sims drama #s4cc #simblr #perma paywall #paywall drama #sims 4 #EA #tw sa mention

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electronicdelusionstarlight · 8 months

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OK, uh, I am, like, writing this crack fic right now, don't worry about it too much, and I was looking back up the Meta Liberation Army thing...

And, uuuuuuuh...

Can we talk for a QUICK SECOND about the ideology of BNHA villains?

OK, like, I'm trying to do this thing in the fic, where I position the Meta Liberation Army and Humarise from the Movies as two diametrically opposed ideologies for obvious reasons, and Humarise is easy as shit to write, it's just a Death Cult who believes in what is, in universe, a fringe conspiracy theory by a disgraced quork scientist from 50+ years ago, an hypocritical one at that since none of their high ranking members are Quirkless despite advocating for Quirkless rights.

Anyway, in my fic they just finance the Shie Hassaikai for now, hence the gang not going under, and and will come into play later, but I had the bullheaded idea to also tackle the Meta Liberation Army immediately for added drama, you know, the parallels, and holy shit...

The MLA are Ancaps.

This is, and I can't stress this enough, the most charitable way I can read them.

Their entire ideology is essential unregulated freedom. Everyone should use the quirk the way they see fit, with no permits or licences, always. Basically the dissolution of the social contract they are currently living in.

This is also the ideology of the League of Villains mind you, but there is a big difference there.

ReDestro is a rich fucking businessman.

The three top leaders of the Army? One controls the biggest telecommunication company in the country (Modern Media) the other their biggest publisher (Traditional Media), and the third is a GODDAMN POLITICIAN.

Do we know... ANYTHING about the Political Leanings of the Hearts and Minds party in canon? Like, I assume they'd be advocating for ways to ensure Meta Liberation Army doctrine to be upheld right? Which means tax cuts for their allies, lessening in quirk regulations, I guess some Token Heteromorph support?

Keep in mind the only Heteromorph among the MLA top ranks, as well as the only woman, is also conventionally attractive. Like, I can DEFINITELY see her as a great example of some weird Glass Ceiling "Got mine fuck you" situation, in the way her gender and quirk are ultimately secondary to her Social Class as a member of the rich elite.

Like, shit, the more I read about them the more I am amazed Horikoshi essentially wrote about how in the BNHA universe there is a secret society composed by the richest men in the country, infiltrated at the highest ranks of society, even among heroes or the commission, advocating for deregulation and zero oversight...

And then just... Did nothing with it.

Like, ReDestro straight up... Picks a fight with the league and then that's it, we doing villain shit now, time to suicide bomb the commission for no reason, the MLA could have EASILY fucked over Japan with a 10 year plan of gradual political shift, and NO ONE could have done anything about it cause they are just normal businessmen at that point.

"You don't arrest Lex Luthor for burning the rainforest you arrest him for using a giant robot to do it" sort of shit.

Like, imagine this shit is tackled with the gravitas it deserves, and Izuku has to come face to face with the fact hero society is corrupt and a slave to capital and he can't do jack shit from stopping a LITERAL POLITICIAN from spreading harmful rhetoric via social media and the traditional medias unless he goes rogue and starts car bombing people, that he can't even "vote with his wallet" cause Detnerat controls most of the market when it comes to support items?

Like, damn.

#bnha #bnha critical #meta liberation army #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

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racefortheironthrone · 4 months

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I’m not too well versed in the comics history, Has there been clear progress made for mutant rights and acceptance in the marvel universe? Like , between the big events and Orchises of the marvel (and real world) setting things back, is there a big difference with how mutants are treated de facto and dejure across the decades since the 60s? Any particular mutant rights milestones?

Great question!

People's History of the Marvel Universe, Week 22: Anti-Mutant Prejudice and Mutant Rights In the Longue Durée

This is a difficult question to answer, because Chris Claremont was very much of the "torture your darlings" school of comics writing, believing that the way to wring endless drama out of your characters was to keep piling tragedy on tragedy on top of them before finally giving them a moment of catharsis. This was especially true for how he handled the mutant metaphor from as far back as X-Men #99, where even when the X-Men saved the day, it would only seem to further fan the flames of anti-mutant prejudice.

That being said, Claremont didn't present an unchanging portrait of anti-mutant prejudice constantly getting worse and worse - after all, the very beating heart of dramatic structure is variation, without which even the most grimdark tragedy becomes numbing and monotonous. So there are definitely key moments in the Claremont run where the X-Men are able to score a victory for mutantkind.

Perhaps the first and most famous instance of the mutants notching a win comes in the climax of God Loves, Man Kills - Claremont's first great Statement Comic about bigotry. After having foiled the Reverend Stryker's plans to exterminate mutantkind by kidnapping Charles Xavier and using a Cerebro-like device to project lethal strokes into mutant brains across the world, the X-Men confront Stryker on live T.V - again, part of Chris Claremont's endless fascination with the power of media to shape our minds that would recur in Fall of the Mutants - fighting him on the level of ideology and rhetoric. Kitty Pryde is able to bait Stryker into attempted murder in front of the television cameras, ending his crusade of hate:

(I'll do a full in-depth analysis of God Loves, Man Kills and how it both codifies and reveals Chris Claremont's approach to the mutant metaphor in a future issue of PHOMU.)

The next big moment of victory I've already written about in PHOMU Week 20, was Fall of the Mutants. In this storyline, the X-Men face off against Freedom Force and the Registration Act and ultimately sacrifice their lives to save the world in Dallas - once again, using the power of rhetoric and media to strike back against discrimination and oppression.

After that, Claremont's next (and arguably last) big victory for mutant rights came in the "Genoshan Saga." (I'll also be doing an in-depth analysis of Genosha in a future issue of PHOMU.) Beginning in UXM #235 and winding its way through Inferno and the X-Tinction Agenda, the fictional nation of Genosha was Chris Claremont's big Statement about apartheid South Africa. An island nation off the east coast of Africa, Genosha seems to be a utopia free of poverty, crime, and disease - but its entire society rests on a foundation of mutant slavery, where mutants are press-ganged, mind-controlled, and genetically-manipulated to serve the human ruling class.

After a series of clashes between the X-Men and the Genoshan Magistrates, the X-Men defeat Genosha's anti-mutant military and their cyborg ally Cameron Hodge. But whereas most superhero comics end with the heroes foiling the evil plan of the supervillain and restoring the status quo, this time Chris Claremont and Louise Simonson went a step beyond the norm and had the X-Men carry out a political revolution that brings lasting structural change - toppling the Genoshan government and abolishing apartheid.

Under the pen of later writers like Joe Pruett, Fabien Nicieza, and (most enduringly) Grant Morrison, the island of Genosha would be refashioned as a mutant homeland, a prosperous and advanced nation of sixteen million mutants ruled by Magneto. (Yet again, a topic for another issue of PHOMU.) Arguably ever since then, the story of the X-Men has been the story of the struggle to restore mutantkind to the position it was in before Cassandra Nova ended the first mutant nation-state, culminating in HOXPOX and the foundation of Krakoa. (A topic we'll be covering next year when FOTHOX/ROTPOX writes the final chapter in the Krakoan Era.)

#xmen #xmen meta #people's history of the marvel universe #the mutant metaphor #chris claremont #the claremont run #grant morrison #brian michael bendis #jonathan hickman #louise simonson

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pettydollie · 6 months

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I Was Made For Lovin’ You, Baby (chapters 3 and 4) ♡.｡.:*

a/n: heyy! just an fyi, this fic is not exactly following the timeline. and also, in case you didn’t see my poll, i’m going to be posting two chapters in one post as often as possible. i’m going start a weekly posting schedule for this fic if that makes sense lol. so the next time i will (try to) post will be next thursday! enjoy! xx

word count: 3.1k

C H A P T E R T H R E E

“You want toast, Holly?” Nancy asked the tiny girl at the table. “No? Okay..” She smiled softly. It was the next morning. Everleigh still hadn’t heard from Melanie so she figured she wanted to be alone. She had already finished breakfast, now waiting for Tina to pick her up. Nancy was going in Steve’s car, since he invited her and why not go with Tina and Vicki? Hopefully Melanie will be there too, but she forgot to ask T. Everleigh had called her this morning, but no one answered. Mike left early on his bike to meet with his friends and Mr. Clarke. Then, there was a honk outside.

“Bye mom! Bye Holly. Bye Nance.” The girl waved, smiling. She walked out the door, her bag slung over one shoulder. Tina was outside with Vicki in the passenger seat and Melanie was sat in the back along with Carol. Now Everleigh didn’t have too much against Carol, but they just didn’t get along so well. It was weird being around her and they didn’t have similar interests. Everleigh looked over at Tina signaling to Carol who was chewing gum obnoxiously and picking at her nails. Tina mouthed “Sorry, V wanted her to come”. Everleigh nodded and opened the car door, while Melanie moved into the middle seat, smiling at her. Everleigh got in and took her backpack off.

“Morningg!” She smiled. “Hey, Ev!” Everyone cheered- Carol was a little less happy. Everleigh turned to look at Melanie while Tina began driving. She didn’t know if Mel told the other girls about being stood up (again) so she mouthed “Hey, you okay?” Melanie nodded. “They know, it’s alright Ev. But I’m okay. I think I’m going to break up with him today.” She announced sadly. Everleigh nodded along with the other girls. “I mean, what has he really done for you anyways?” Tina asked rhetorically. Vicki nodded, pointing her manicured finger at Tina. “True. He hasn’t even taken you out on a proper date. I mean, you are DATING. Not just friends with an extra smooch on the side.” Vicki rolled her eyes.

The girls continued chatting and cheering Melanie up until they arrived in the school parking lot. They all got out, grabbing their bags. “We still have a while until class starts.” Tina informed everyone, looking at the black and gold watch on her wrist. “We can just chill here for a bit.” The girls leaned against Tina’s car, gossiping. “I’m excited for your annual Halloween bash coming up, T. You always have the best parties.” Everleigh gushed. It was true. Tina always had the best parties with the most drama. Tina smiled back. “Me too! I think I’m gonna be Madonna this year.”

The girls began talking about what they wanted to be for Halloween while waiting to go inside. “V, you got gum? I finished mine yesterday.” Everleigh asked, pouting. Vicki was the type of girl who always had everything in her bag. Whether it be tissues, gum, lipgloss, and basically anything that wasn’t school related. She nodded, pulling a pack out of her bag. She handed one to each of the girls (besides Carol who was smacking hers away like a cow chewing grass), everyone saying “Thank you.”

While the girls were discussing cheer tryouts which was the following day, they perked up, hearing loud music blaring. A blue camaro pulled into the parking lot across from Tina’s spot. Which was… Everleigh’s normal spot. She scoffed, not being able to complain because she didn’t bring her car that day. A tall boy with a dirty blonde mullet and drop dead gorgeous blue eyes opened the front door of the car, stepping out. He was beautiful to say the least. Everyone’s eyes were on him. Now normally, as a fashion addict, Everleigh hated denim over denim and had never seen anyone look good in it. But this kid rocked it.

He looked around the parking lot with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. A small redhead girl, Everleigh noticed, got out of the backseat with a skateboard in hand and skated away. The boy shut the door and strutted confidently towards the school. The girls’ gaze were watching him like predators feasting on prey. He was attractive, Everleigh could admit. He looked full of himself too. Her clean brows raised in amusement and chuckled dryly. “Who is that?” Vicki asked, in a trance. “I have no idea..” Tina replied, twirling her curly dark hair. “But would you check out that ass?” She glanced at Everleigh who just rolled her eyes smiling playfully. “Look at it go!” Tina chuckled.

Melanie was the only one not staring. She couldn’t. She never did anyways when her friends pointed out attractive guys out of respect for Carl. This new kid didn’t look like her type anyways. Everleigh noticed this and placed a hand on her shoulder in understanding.

The bell rang and everyone was sat in first period. Everleigh was once again alone without her friend to talk to. She sighed as Mr. Mundy began taking attendance. “William Hargrove?” He called. So that was the new kid’s name. Just then, the door opened to reveal the star of the show. The girls in the room sat up straighter, including Tina who glanced over at Everleigh wiggling her eyebrows. She mouthed an “as if” and scoffed in response, smiling. “Here.” He spoke. “You’re late on your first day, Hargrove. Not a good look.” Mr. Mundy replied, his brows raised and making a “tch” noise with his mouth.

“Well, sir. I didn’t know where to go, since it’s my first day.” William said, his hands in his pockets. “Alright, fine, William. You may sit..” Mr. Mundy looked over the class, everyone hoping he would tell him to sit with them. “It’s Billy.” The boy responded, clearing his throat. “Okay.. Billy. You can sit over there next to Everleigh Wheeler. Raise your hand, Everleigh.”

Well. This is great. Everleigh raised her hand. Billy walked over and dropped into the desk, throwing his backpack on the floor, sending her a wink with a smirk. She’d never admit it, but she felt butterflies in her stomach swirling around. She turned around to the window resting chin on her hand, waiting for class to officially start.

Once Mr. Mundy explained what he was going to teach, Everleigh leaned over to her pink backpack and pulled out a spiral notebook with a large pencil case. She grabbed a black pen with a few highlighters and began taking notes. She was writing something from the board when she felt a light tap on her arm. “Do you have a pencil?” Billy whispered. “It’s your first day and you didn’t bring a pencil?” Everleigh asked. Billy shrugged. She sighed and grabbed a pink pencil. She offered it to him in which he declined, chuckling softly. “A normal pencil, if you have one.”

She turned back and grabbed a freshly sharpened No. 2 pencil and gave it to him which he took this time. “Thanks, doll.” He smiled. Huh. That’s odd. Why did her face feel hot all of a sudden? Was it hot in here or what? She nodded, turning away again. She continued her notes until she felt another tap on her shoulder again. She turned to face a waiting Billy. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Everleigh.” She replied simply. Mr. Mundy just said her name a few minutes ago, but hey, who is she to judge? She forgets things all the time. He nodded, looking back to the board, deciding to leave her alone for now. She turned away as well, but thinking. She looked over at him again. “Can I see your schedule?” She asked, holding her hand out.

“Why, you wanna stalk me or somethin’?” He joked, smirking. She put her hand back where it was before. “Don’t be so full of yourself, Hargrove.” She smiled, turning away to listen to Mr. Mundy. He chuckled softly.

By the time she knew it, class was over and it was lunch time. Everleigh packed up her stuff and walked out with Tina, Billy following behind. And into the large cafeteria they went.

Like first period, but much worse, the cafeteria was horribly loud. Everleigh sat at the ‘popular’ table, so things were always interesting there. Tina and Everleigh walked to their normal seats and said hello to everyone. “Did you see the new boy? He’s hot!” A girl named Avery giggled. No one really liked Avery, she just sat with the cool kids because she was dating one of the boys on the soccer team and then made a big scene breaking up with him at one of Tina’s parties.

Everleigh looked around the table for Melanie, but she wasn’t there. She looked towards the entrance of the cafeteria and right when she was going to turn around, Billy walked in. He moved with such confidence, like Hawkins could never be good enough for him. Avery squealed which made the boys at the table groan. The girls on the other hand like Tina and Vicki watched closely. Carol looked too, but she couldn’t look too hard because she was still dating Tommy H who sat next to her.

Everleigh began to worry when there was no sign of Melanie. “I’m gonna go find Mel.” She announced, grabbing her stuff and leaving the table. Everyone nodded. She left the cafeteria and looked for Melanie. She checked the bathrooms first. No one. Which meant she was probably outside. Melanie never smoked a lot but she always did when she was upset. In the same spot as always. Everleigh walked outside behind the bleachers and just as she thought, Melanie was crying while smoking a cigarette.

“Oh, Mel..” Everleigh walked over to the girl pulling her into a hug and allowing her to cry into her shoulder. Ignoring the smell of smoke which she hates, Everleigh comforted her friend wordlessly. “I-I want to break up with him n-now but I just don’t know how..” Melanie choked out. “It’s okay, I’ll be there with you.” Melanie nodded. Melanie never let Everleigh go. And she was fine with that. “I think I want to do it now. But I don’t want to hurt his feelings.” Melanie pulled away, wiping her tears. Her mascara was ruined and her nose was red.

“Okay, we can do that. Let’s just fix you up first, mkay?” Everleigh consoled, rubbing her arm up and down. Melanie nodded again. Everleigh wrapped her arm around the girl to her shoulder, still rubbing as they walked to the bathrooms. They walked in and Everleigh pulled out a pink and white makeup pouch. She grabbed makeup wipes and wiped her face. She reapplied Melanie’s mascara and her blush. The makeup brushes felt comforting to Melanie which helped her tears stop forming. “Done. You wanna wait a bit or go now?” Everleigh questioned. Melanie straightened her shoulders “Now.”

Everleigh nodded, before she could say anything, Melanie grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the cafeteria. Everleigh stumbled, clutching her backpack in her hand. Melanie stomped to the table where Carl was seated, which Billy was at as well. Melanie let go of Everleigh’s hand, now shy all of a sudden. “We’re breaking up, Carl.” She told him quietly. Carl’s face scrunched up. “Excuse me?” He stood up, angry. His fists clenched into balls. Everleigh felt a rush over her. She stepped in front of her friend.

“You heard her. You treat her like she’s not worth your time. One second you’re telling her how much you love her and the next, you’re standing her up. Where were you last night, huh?” Everleigh folded her arms, scolding Carl like a small child. He deflated, not knowing how to respond. Everyone was looking now. Even Billy. His brows raised in amusement. Everleigh slung her bag over her shoulder. Tina stood up as well. “She’s too good for you. Melanie has always been too good but you’re just to blind to see it.” She spat. Carl stood, frozen. He slowly sat back down, speechless.

“I’m sorry.” Melanie apologized. Tina and Everleigh smacked their foreheads mentally. Why was she apologizing? Melanie never did anything wrong. It was all in her head. “You can leave now.” Everleigh sarcastically smiled, pointing behind her with her thumb. Carl cursed under his breath, but walked away with his stuff nonetheless. Melanie sat down, huffing out a breath of air she didn’t know she was holding in. Then the usual topics were discussed once again. Like nothing happened.

“I think I’m going to hand out my party flyers tomorrow.” Tina announced. “A party, you say?” Billy spoke out of nowhere. All heads turned to him. “Yeah. I host Halloween and Christmas parties every year. They’re pretty packed.” She explained, happily speaking to him. “So like, will there be booze?” He asked, smirking that stupid smirk. “Duh,” Tina laughed along with some other people there. “Hm.” He hummed.

Then Everleigh brought up cheer tryouts tomorrow. This was always the worst part of the year (besides tests). Cheer tryouts are always full and Everleigh always feels bad saying no to people. “I think I’m going to try out.” Vicki told Everleigh. “You should, V! You’d be a great cheerleader.” Everleigh complimented in which Vicki smiled. “Yo, Billy.” Tommy pat his hand on Billy’s shoulder. “Speaking of tryouts, basketball tryouts are after school tomorrow. You going?” He asked. “Yeah,” Billy dryly responded. The girls at the table all shared a look. Billy on the basketball team? They were head over heels already.

Billy was gossiping about everyone in his head. Every girl seated with him was stuck up and rich. Considering Everleigh’s popularity, which he could tell she definitely had from all the stares from the boys in first period, he would eventually want to mess around with her. These boys weren’t special.. Or really good enough to be his friends, in his opinion. But this was the best he could get for now.

“Oh my God. Justin wants to ask out Wendy.” Vicki said changed the subject. “Justin told his best friend Paul who told Randy who told his girlfriend Marge who told Riley who told me.” The girls gasped. “Wait, but I thought Wendy just got dumped?” Everleigh questioned, confused. The girls spoke about drama as they normally did and the boys discussed basketball tryouts.

C H A P T E R F O U R

Now it was sixth period. P.E could either be really fun or terribly hard. For example, dodgeball. Everleigh always thought she looked like a chicken whenever she ran without pom poms in her hands. And she had a horrible aim. But on the other hand, volleyball was the best. She loved teaming up with her friends and beating the other side. Today was basketball, which makes sense because tryouts were tomorrow and Coach probably wanted to see what he would be working with.

Everleigh walked into the girls locker room with Vicki and Tina. “E, I don’t think anyone hates the uniforms as much as you.” Vicki joked. Everleigh giggled in response. “They’re so ugly. It looks like something a 40-year old man would wear.” She made an ick expression. While the three of them were changing and chatting, Carol came into the room (late, of course) and grabbed onto Vicki’s arm. “Girl, mister hot stuff is in this class.” She boasted. ‘Hot stuff’ was probably referring to the new kid, Billy.

“You’re awfully excited for someone who’s been taken since the seventh grade.” Everleigh teased. But Carol ignored her comment and continued talking to Vicki. “He’s already out there playing against Harrington. He looks really good.” She smacked her gum as she spoke. Tina wiggled her eyebrows. Everleigh and Tina were more practical when it came to relationships, but they loved to talk about boys without full seriousness.

Once everyone was all finished changing, Everleigh walked with Tina to the bleachers until further instruction. “Ooh, Carol wasn’t wrong. He does look fabulous.” Tina gushed, passing her lipgloss to you. Everleigh nodded, reapplying her lipgloss, not knowing how to respond. He looked alright. “Did you see Mel after the breakup? I haven’t seen her since lunch.” Tina turned to ask. Everleigh shook her head. “I think she called her mom to pick her up. Ugh, Carl is such an idiot. He never deserved her in the first place. I told her that too, but she didn’t want to listen.” She explained.

“Yeah, I don’t really know what she saw in him. He’s such a momma’s boy also. He would probably marry her if he could.” Tina cringed, making the two of you laugh. Everleigh looked as Billy played against Steve. Speaking of Steve, she definitely wanted to know more about him and Nancy. “Is that a six pack?” Tina pointed out. “It’s getting hot in here.” She fanned herself with her hand. Everleigh grinned cheekily and fanned her with both hands. She giggled and raised her hand. “Coach!”

Coach J turned around from the boys and raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Tina?” He asked. “When can we play?” She questioned. “No!” She chuckled, hitting her arm. “T, I’m terrible at basketball.” She whined, pouting. Tina laughed evilly. “Whenever these guys finish.” Coach J replied in a loud tone. “Great, we don’t have to do anything till next week.” Everleigh joked.

Billy pushed Steve onto the gym floor, creating a loud thud. There was a collection of “ooh”’s in the room. “Uh, correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s considered a foul right?” Everleigh questioned. Tina nodded, speechless. But no one called anything. Steve just got back up to follow Billy and his team. “Guess not.” Tina shrugged. “Wanna skip? This is sooo boring.” She suggested. “Alright!” Everleigh grabbed her fluffy backpack and followed Tina down the bleachers. “Coach! Can we go to the bathroom?” Everleigh asked. “Uh, sure, but why are you bringing your stuff?” Coach J asked.

“Lady products.” Tina quipped. The coach asked no further questions and waved the girls off. The two walked through the halls chatting. “Oh, by the way,” Tina started. “You remember Susan the Slut?” She asked. “Ugh, yeah. She was the worst.” Everleigh rolled her eyes. Susan would date almost any boy she saw, tell them she was madly in love, bring them to her bed, and then accuse them of cheating. And as for the girls, she always had enemies and talked crap for no reason. “She’s moving back to Hawkins next week, I think.”

a/n: just a heads up, susan is going to be the absolute worst. i didnt edit this btw oopsies. love ya! :)

#y/n #reader #h3artands0ul #billy x reader #billy #billy hargrove #stranger things #fem reader #wheeler #reader wheeler #everleigh wheeler #stranger things x reader #billy hargrove x reader #third person

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nanoseven · 8 months

Text

wrote based off of this fanart by android

T-rating for some petting, and unbetaed, maybe ooc

"Let's pretend there was never any bad blood, just for a while."

Jou swings his left arm, being aware of the danger of dropping his beer can below on the snowy ground. The weather is supposed to be -20 degrees Celsius, yet the cold doesn't penetrate his coated exterior as much as the man's presence next to him.

Jou hears Kaiba's scarf ruffle, but doesn't bother to turn and look. Out of the corner of his eye, Kaiba's elbow comes into view, where instead of holding onto the handrail, he crosses his arms instead.

They both stay silent.

True, Jou acknowledges that they had their differences. Both of them come from different classes in the same caste, with Jou growing up with an alcoholic father and Kaiba with his corrupt stepfather. Both of them hold separate values and beliefs. Jou values friendships, Kaiba detests.

Jou sighs. All this time, where did they go wrong?

He finally takes the chance to peek. Kaiba's been staying silent the whole time, ever since Jou made that statement. He has seen a silent Kaiba, especially moments back at Battle City where he's standing confident and observant. Not this version of Kaiba where he's radiating vibes of uncertainty.

Not gonna lie, it's uncomfortable to see Kaiba like this. A person being unsure of his caliber is a rarity, Jou thinks, digging through his mind if he's ever seen an insecure CEO on TV. The answer is no.

Jou's mind travels to the cold, half-finished beer can he's holding. He takes a quick swing at it and closes his eyes, pretending for a brief moment he's not stuck in this situation.

"I'm gonna head back. Pretend that I neve-"

"Okay."

Jou stops in his tracks, and turns.

"What?"

Kaiba doesn't move from his spot, at first. But eventually, he turns to profile view, his left eye peering back at Jou.

An unreadable glimmer and... hope?

"Let's pretend there was never any bad blood."

A shudder goes up Jou's spine. Whether it's from the cold, or by Kaiba's surprising answer, it's hard to tell. Some days, he's predictable to read, much like back in Battle City.

And rarely, impossible. Just like now.

Jou returns back to the same spot.

"Alright, then," he breathes, and just as he lifts his arm to drink, it slips through his fingers.

"Aw, fuck!"

It doesn't take long before the can decreases in size and hits the snow, creating a small crater. Jou wonders if the contents that spilled out would cause a complaint with the tenants living below his apartment.

Surprisingly, he hears chuckling.

Jou turns to see Kaiba giving a small smile. It's the first time he's witnessing it. He's quickly recalling a time if he's ever seen it, and mentally shakes his head: no. Always the arrogant smirks, never anything genuine.

The volume beats in his ears grow large.

"Not the first time you've made that mistake," he remarks.

Another snide comment. Nevermind what he just thought now. Blood is starting to rush Jou's body, toes to head, before Jou remembers what he said earlier.

He takes a deep breath. "I know, I know," waving his hand off as he's trying to push through his silly mistake. Kaiba has never stopped to remind Jou of all the little faux pas he's made during their encounters, and this was no exception.

Think, Katsuya, think, he scrambles to find something, what can he ask? Since they're pretending now.

"Have you always had dimples?" He blurts.

Kaiba blinks multiple times. He glances down, and draws his hand up to the sides of his cheeks.

"I don't know if what you just asked was a rhetorical question, but yes, I have. I don't recall if it was from my mother or father.

"Nobody personally commented on it, until now."

Jou turns his head. Either the snow that's gently falling down, or the soft, neon lights coming from below, it's presenting Kaiba as a male lead out of a K-drama, with his three fingers holding on his chin area while wearing his winter coat and white scarf.

Jou's feeling his cheeks bloom, pretending that he's not feeling anything in his stomach.

"Well, you look... nice, like that."

Man, what is up with him today? Complimenting Kaiba, pretending that everything's fine between them.

There's tension. Kaiba doesn't respond, and instead his elbows are on the handrails again. And as per usual, Jou fucks up once again. He wonders if this is the last time they're gonna have a chance to at least be civil.

But his eyes must be deceiving him, because was Kaiba pink on the cheeks? Or was it from being cold?

"...Thank you."

It catches Jou off-guard.

"Yeah."

He pauses once more, before he clears his throat.

"You know-"

"I-"

They both interrupt each other. Jou couldn't help but laugh at the absurd coincidence.

"Alright, you go," he gestures to Kaiba.

Kaiba stands properly. He pauses for a few seconds, before he speaks.

"It's pretend, right?"

Jou is about to clench his fists, but stops himself.

"Yeah... yeah, it's just pretend." He repeats.

Sure. Pretending to not be hostile towards one another, but also: something else?

Kaiba sighs. "We can pretend we went off on the right foot. And how I never snapped at you."

Jou slowly nods.

"Pretend that I never gave you any terrible nicknames, but rather ones more on the cheeky side."

"Cheeky?"

"...Yes."

Kaiba steps closer. Jou's not sure what's happening. Either he's really into this roleplay, or he's also playing a cruel joke. Cheeky his ass.

But…

He doesn't want to break what's happening between them, so he plays along. Jou’s smart enough to know when to pick up. "We can also--" he clears his throat, "we can also be real good friends, ones where we can pick up a conversation from where we left off."

Play it safe.

Kaiba is standing much closer than the personal space they developed. More than when they threw insults at each other on a regular basis.

"We can pretend that at one point, even before we were good friends, I had feelings, and later when it felt safe, I confessed to you.

“And you said yes.”

Jou’s eyes go wide.

Kaiba is towering over him by this point. Jou can smell the faint whiff of mint coming off him. Not that he ever noticed, since he didn’t really give a shit originally. But it smells nice.

“And what?” Scratching his head, Jou chuckles nervously. “Have it so that you confess to me on this very spot? After I accidentally dropped my half-finished can?”

Kaiba doesn’t react at first, but his eyes give everything away.

“Why not.”

He raises his manicured hand, and places it on Jou’s cheek. It feels colder, but gentle. He raises his own hand in response, rough calluses from working in the construction field onto the back of the soft, piano hand skin.

“Kaiba, I -” he sighs again. “I wanna ask you something before we continue this thing.”

The aforementioned man raises his eyebrow.

Jou’s body shudders, and he can’t help but close his eyes. He takes his brief pause, before he asks.

“You weren’t pretending about having feelings… were you?”

He opens it again.

Kaiba’s staring back at him. His thumb is rubbing on Jou’s upper cheek.

“No, I wasn’t.”

The thumb stops moving. Jou’s heart is pounding in his ears, a confirmation stirring in his stomach, deep down from all the way back when Kaiba snarks about Jou’s class status and appearance, and Jou retorts back the same thing.

“What about you?” Kaiba comes back with the same question.

Two dragons, swirling and snarling at one another, a never ending cycle of revolving through the sins of fire. Each breathing out flames of pride and envy.

Any and all the memories of the arguments have vanished out of the dark crevices within Jou’s mind, leaving behind only fragments of red rose petals.

Jou’s eyes flutter, and shakes his head.

“I feel the same way.”

In a quick second, Jou’s head gets lifted with the same manicured hands before Kaiba lands a kiss. His lips are dry, yet it feels more warmth than Jou has ever experienced. He doesn’t take long to return the favour by grappling his coat lapels and opening his mouth to let him in.

He briefly flashes back to a comment he made to Kaiba about his lack of sexual experience. It’s being proven now, with Kaiba only having some bit of control. He’s clumsy, lips nor tongue not knowing the pressure points. His passion makes up for it, making Jou take the lead and subconsciously guide Kaiba, nipping his bottom lips and dragging his tongue from one side to another.

Before he pushes any further and lets his baser desires take over, Jou gently takes Kaiba’s hands and releases his kiss away from him. Kaiba’s eyes glaze over Jou, still reeling from the aftereffect.

Jou drops his head on Kaiba’s scarf, and laughs.

“Out of all things I’ve expected, this was not part of it.”

Hands cross over to Jou’s back, and pull him forward. Even though it’s quiet, Jou’s able to feel and hear Kaiba’s pumping heart rate.

“It’s better than having bad blood,” Kaiba’s voice rumbles.

Jou closes his eyes once more.

“It’s a start.”

#from fanart #puppyshipping #violetshipping #joukai #oh im tired man

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canmom · 9 months

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Feel free to ignore considering it’s a very messy topic. Why do you think SFF communities (especially book communities) attracts so many bad faith actors?

my apologies anon, I took a minute to answer this one.

I think the most parsimonious answer is that they don't, especially, it's just that bad faith actors are basically everywhere. like, is it really true that there are more bad faith actors in SFF than in say, music? film? 'literary' fiction, or other genres like crime or erotica? i think if I was as immersed in any of those worlds as I am in SFF, I'd know about just as many stories of petty cruelty, exploitation, bizarre dramas...

still, some speculations about factors playing into it, that aren't necessarily specific to sci-fi.

the thing about SFF is that it's a subculture, and one that's pretty niche. not quite as niche as like, BASE jumping or something lol - most bookshops around here will have an SFF shelf, and obviously SFF films and games are almost as mainstream as entertainment gets - but for dedicated sci-fi fans it's seen as a sort of refuge of 'people like them' (generally some variety of autistic nerd archetype), and there is a lot of anxiety that comes with maintaining that.

this sort of attitude is commonly associated with the old guard of reactionary fandom - the infamous Puppies - but I think by now we've seen that the current overtly queer/progressive/whatever you wanna call it generation is just as capable of lashing out at perceived intruders. (for an obvious example, this kind of sentiment was a major factor in the Isabel Fall incident.)

besides that, what are people fighting for anyway? what are the 'stakes' of scifi/fantasy fandom? intuitively, they're tiny. but...

within any niche subculture, it is possible to achieve a certain degree of fame and influence. if you can play the rhetorical game, you can establish yourself as a microcelebrity/tastemaker, promote your friends and make a show of casting out the enemies, and set up the rules of the discourse... in your small bubble. until sooner or later the wind changes and you get knocked off the pedestal, anyway. so part of it is just people wanting to rule an insular little fiefdom.

but then there's also like... 'being an author'. SFF lit is not especially popular these days. you can't really make a living from short stories anymore (too few magazines that pay, too hard to get in, too little reward). however, if you get very, very lucky, make the right connections (probably at Clarion), you might just be able to get some novels published, and maaaybe they will find an audience and earn out their advances... and if everything goes perfectly, you might just manage to make a reasonable middle class sort of income.

and that's not nothing! especially if other forms of work are inaccessible. i have a friend whose circumstances were changed very dramatically when they got a big advance on their novel. but ultimately I don't think it's about that, nobody would sensibly try to become an author for the money, it's an obviously terrible gamble.

however, within the subculture, being a published author is a still big deal. it's a sense that you've 'made it', people will look up to you, or resent you if they don't feel you deserve it. there is a strong divide between 'authors' and 'fans' that structures interactions between the two. I don't get the impression that this is actually very fun for the authors, but it's easy to see that from outside and think "I wish I was worthy of that kind of respect too".

much the same applies in other fields - for example animation. maybe it pays shit and demand insane hours with zero job security... but for the fans, you come to have immense admiration for the 'real animators' and want to feel you could be their equal one day. and people are willing to sacrifice a lot for the sake of that idea of accomplishment, even if it's still very unlikely.

so with all that in mind... science fiction authors are usually science fiction fans. there's not really any other reason you'd write it lmao. so could speculate that for the ones who have 'made it', the situation is still precarious, or seems like it. there's little guarantee you'll get published again if a book doesn't sell. and you depend on a good reputation to stay in the game. so you have a bit of power (enough to go to your head) and fear of losing that power and sense of accomplishment... that's probably sufficient to motivate a whole lot of horrendous behaviour that would seem incomprehensible from outside.

none of this is really specific to science fiction/fantasy. but then I don't think SFF is really all that unique.

#sff

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Note

Hello my love, congratulations on 2k! I’m so proud and lucky to call myself your friend 💚

Here’s my person, place, and thing for you: Eddie + O’Donell’s classroom + bread

Love you!!! - @corroded-hellfire 😘

IT'S BREAD!! Fucking poppadom? Poppadom???? It's BREAD.

Warnings: none WC: 757 A/N: For those of you unfamiliar with the reference, please watch this little gem. You are welcome.

Eddie Munson is your typical teenager with an endless appetite. He usually counts down the seconds until his lunch period, promptly scarfing down whatever food he shoved in his lunchbox for the day. But today, he has too much on his mind to remember to eat. He’s been planning the final campaign of the year–of his high school career, now that he’s finally graduating–and it all culminates this afternoon. He skipped lunch to get the drama club room ready, practically trembling with excitement for the club to meet.

But two hours later, in the middle of O’Donnell’s lecture on iambic pentameter, Eddie is shaking for another reason: he’s starving.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he whispers under his breath, reaching into his backpack for the metal box. He opens it as carefully as he can, knowing that any small noise will tip O’Donnell off to his activity. That wench has a strict ‘no eating’ policy in her classroom, and Eddie can’t risk getting detention today. Not when Hellfire is counting on him to deliver the wildest campaign of their lives.

Peering at his options, he immediately rules out the orange. Too fragrant; plus, peeling it would totally give him away. The pretzels are a decent choice, but she might be able to hear him crunching on them, so he saves them for later. That leaves two slices of plain Wonder Bread. He’d normally slather them in peanut butter, but he forgot to put more on the shopping list. It works out in his favor this time, since he’ll be more easily able to sneak bites as O’Donnell blathers on.

“Can someone give me an example of a famous piece of literature that utilizes iambic pentameter? Anyone?” She glances around the room, seeing only bored faces. Chrissy Cunningham is twirling her honey-blonde hair around her finger. Jason Carver is wobbling a pencil between his thumb and forefinger, making it look like rubber. And Eddie Munson is…

“Mr. Munson!” Mrs. O’Donnell hisses, snapping him from his thoughts. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

“It’s just bread,” Eddie murmurs, voice barely audible as he tries to stifle an eyeroll.

“I’m sorry? I didn’t quite catch that,” the teacher presses, angrily putting her hands on her hips.

“It’s BREAD!” he says, loudly this time. He doesn’t mean to shout, but his temper is short when he’s hungry, and he rarely has patience for the old bat to begin with. “It’s bread,” he repeats, leveling his voice.

Mrs. O’Donnell releases an exasperated sigh. “Mr. Munson, my question was rhetorical. I do not care what you are eating, only that you are eating during my class time.” She shakes her head in disappointment. “Do I interrupt your lunch period and try to teach you?”

“Uh…no?” Eddie answers slowly, shoving the remaining half slice of bread in his mouth.

The teacher fights the urge to roll her eyes, marching to her desk to write out a detention slip. “Once again, that was a rhetorical question. Now, you know the consequence for eating in–”

“Mrs. O’Donnell?” a small voice pipes up from the doorway. Eddie looks over to see Max Mayfield, red hair hanging in braids over her shoulders. “There are girls smoking in the bathroom. It smells kinda like a skunk?”

O’Donnell throws her hands up in the air. “Oh, for crying out loud!” She turns to her class. “Open your textbooks to chapter ten and read until I–” But she’s interrupted yet again, this time by the bell. Eddie scrambles from his seat and bolts from the room as fast as he can, tugging Max along with him.

“Hey, Red,” he manages, catching his breath once he’s safely out of O’Donnell’s sight. “Thanks for the diversion. I owe you one.”

Max gives a small chuckle. “Yeah, well,” she shrugs, “if you couldn’t have Hellfire today, Lucas was gonna tag along with me and El at the movies, and he always picks the weirdest sci-fi ones. So annoying. You probably did me the favor, actually.” She starts to walk away, but turns around to add, “but if you did wanna thank me, I love Reese's Pieces. Not the cups. The pieces.” She wags a finger at him before slipping on her headphones and disappearing into the sea of students.

Eddie clicks his tongue. “Weird kid,” he says to himself, but he takes a pen from his pocket and writes Reese’s Pieces on his forearm. And before he can forget, he also jots down peanut butter.

What was O’Donnell’s problem? He thinks. It was just bread.

#eddie munson #fanfic #stranger things #eddie stranger things #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #max mayfield #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fanfiction #bug's 2k celebration

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apersonshapedcomputer · 2 years

Text

(part three of my villain x hero saga, wherein Rhetoric finally has an audience for all this drama

beginning, previous chapter)

Phase 2: Lights! Cameras! Action!

Fluorescence is a rooftop cafe in the heart of downtown. It has doll size cups of coffee topped with cinnamon and gold foil, bloody marys with not enough spice and too many green things (dill and olives? really?), and brunch options that cost a working class family's rent. There were at least a dozen influencers there when I arrived. Perfect.

I was immediately led to a reserved table by a waiter. The man had the look of a veteran worker in the service industry, I could detect no sign of life behind his glassy eyes and plastic smile. I took a moment to glance at their menu before ordering a black coffee and brightly colored, bread based monstrosity.

I hoped the coffee would be drinkable.

According to the social media alerts on my smartwatch, the influencers were doing well at spreading the word that I had arrived. By the time I got my order the restaurant and I had been tagged several dozen posts. The stage was set. As I took a cautious sip of my coffee there was a flash of rose-gold light as Dawnstar made a dramatic entrance on the other side of the roof. A pause, for the professional rubber-neckers to start recording.

I adopted a tense expression as he stalked over to my table, looking at me in a way he hadn't for years. He was guarded. Cold, even. He was not the tallest of men, but the low metal garden seats combined with my own less than exceptional stature allowed him to loom over me. "Rhetoric," he did not precisely grow my name, but there was an audible rumble of frustration, "you've been buying up properties near the docks."

"I'm a business woman, acquiring property isn't out of the ordinary for me."

I took another sip of my coffee as his expression darkened. Anger was a good look on him, though I preferred his usual vivacious smiles. "You've been keeping this quite, and the last time you were being this cagey about buying up property you were building an illegal weapons testing site."

I sniffed and settled back in my seat, legs crossed. It takes practice, but one can give off the impression of looking down their nose at someone even when several heads below them. "I was acquitted of those charges, if you recall. And while I do have plans for the docks they are not malicious." I smirked a bit, showing a hint of teeth as I injected a some venom into my tone.

"If you had bothered to actually investigate beyond the purchase of the property then you would have seen that the construction project is for a new grocery chain."

His brow furrowed in confusion, his body language practically screaming suspicion. "And why exactly are you setting that up at the docks of all places? This kind of neighborhood is usually more your speed for your legal business ventures, not places with high concentrations of low income households."

I scowled at him. "The docks are also a food desert, which means that people will jump at the chance for access to affordable foods that won't leave their arteries looking like this city's sewer system after a mud slide." Anger then as I stood, pulled from my frustrations during the earlier years of our acquaintance. "You didn't bother to think did you? I know you have a brain somewhere in that head of yours, I know you have some kind of critical thinking skills. Yet you immediately chose to jump to the conclusion that I'm doing something wrong."

I felt my face twist with ire as I moved into his space. "You are not some naive newbie hero anymore, seeing the world in black and white. You have the capacity to think things through before making accusations." He stood firm, meeting me strike for verbal strike.

"You're calculating Rhetoric, you don't do things unless they benefit you in some way and you have a history of unethical conduct. I know you."

"Evidently not! You're the one always saying that people can change, Dawnstar." My voice was rising above my usual even tone, not quite yelling but certainly louder than I usually get in public. "I had thought we had moved past this. I had thought you had learned by now that this city is mine, and that I damned well take care of what I consider mine. I had thought, that after the Deathgames on Strorix 404 you had started to see me as something other than a monster!"

I was almost chest to chest with him, my breathing heavy as under his gaze. He was shaking, light and shadows starting to distort around him. "I can't- It was- It was simpler before the Deathgames, before I knew that you could be something other than an enemy. I know you're not a monster, I stopped thinking that even before then, but now I don't know-!" He cut himself off and took a step back.

"Don't now what Dawnstar? What are you afraid of?"

His face showed something akin to grief before he closed his eyes and threw himself over the glass safety fence with a burst of light.

I stood for a moment, watching the path of his travel across the rooftops. I quickly became aware of the voices around me. Most of the prattling sycophants were trying to at least pretend at subtlety, though they did a sloppy job of if. I took a long breath, centering myself.

I gave no indication of noticing the numerous phone cameras which tracked my exit from behind menus and over shoulders. The same dead eyed waiter accepted a handful of fifty dollar bills as I walked to the elevator, apparently unaffected by the drama he had witnessed. Astounding.

45…30…15… The floor number ticked down quickly. Soon I was in the underground parking area, and I took care not to rush all the way to my car. Always assume there's a camera watching. Once the doors were locked my hidden com link crackled on. "So? How'd I do? Did I get the faces right? Was the lighting ok?" Dawn bombarded me with questions as I began to pull out of my parking space.

"You did well, I noticed you managed to make sure table three got a good view of your face the whole time. Nice touch." He chuckled a bit at the praise. "Well, I noticed that they had a real camera instead of a phone. I figured that they would get the best quality shots of my angst."

"We should be trending by now, and I expect there will be some good shots of us from that angle." I felt a bit giddy, the familiar high of having a plan go right putting me in an excellent mood. I could hear him humming over the com. "Hmmm, yeah, we're trending. Ooh! That's a funny meme, I'm saving that. Looks like your acting bootcamp and my binge watching old teleseryes really paid off."

I quietly huffed in amusement. The though of him curled up, studiously taking notes while watching cheesy old dramas, was rather endearing. Though, I had little room to talk. La reina del sur has been a comfort show of mine since I was a little girl.

"So I was thinking," Dawn's tone was playful with an undercurrent of hesitance, "We should celebrate a scheme well done. You have that fancy looking kitchen in your absurdly cozy lair, and I have a killer recipe for pancit. We could eat lunch and laugh at conspiracy threads?" I hadn't even touched the sorry excuse for food that I was served earlier, so a home cooked meal sounded wonderful.

"That sounds nice. Remember to go in through that sewer entrance I showed you, and mind the poison dart traps." I switched off my com as he began to splutter about horrors of sewer gunk.

I felt a bit surprised at the warm feeling beginning to grow in my chest at the though of him actually wanting to make a meal for me, to spend more time in my presence. I allowed myself soft, genuine smile as I drove to meet him.

——————

(part four here)

#fake #villain x hero #hero x villain #enemies to lovers #fake dating #creative writing #writing #they're almost at the dating portion i swear #rhe is experiencing *an emotion* and is actively choosing not to examine it because #if it isn't part of her scheme then she can't control it #she has control issues if you hadn't realized #dawn is way more in touch with his emotions #while she's writing screen plays for him to memorize #he's digging out family recipes and practicing his charming smile in the mirror #the man has read enough fanfic to know where things lead #maybe... he is the *true* mastermind???

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eighttwotwopointthreethree · 9 months

Text

who lives, who dies, who tells your story: a write up of new swan shakespeare's julius caesar

it's been a while since i watched a live production of shakespeare! and i hadn't really expected to spend this interval of my summer doing so, but the new swan shakespeare festival at UCI was doing julius caesar, which, if you know anything about this blog, is like my number one most favourite shakespeare play. so of course i had to go see it. and you can go see it, too, if you're in socal, alongside their production of as you like it, and the complete works of shakespeare (abridged) (which, if you've ever seen the reduced shakespeare company's filmed version, is really hilarious).

why is julius caesar my favourite play? i mean, besides the homoeroticism in the text between brutus and cassius (#brutecass4lyfe), julius caesar to me is just one of the most human of tragedies, one of the most prescient political dramas ever done. back in 2017, shakespeare in the park did a JC production that, controversially, portrayed the man as a donald trump-type figure. and you know what, they've got a point. julius caesar was a populist. literally, his faction was called the populares; he claimed to represent the will of the people, but ultimately was taking power for himself.

granted, brutus and cassius themselves were not scrappy revolutionaries trying to change the world for the better, for all that brutus likes to cloak himself in honour and high-minded ideals. their faction, the optimates, were of the ruling class in rome. they represented the people in power who disliked caesar's broader appeal. shakespeare (via cribbing from plutarch) points out that many of the optimates were simply mad they did not seize power the way caesar had. cassius was indeed born as free as caesar, with as many of the privileges and ruling rights as caesar; why should cassius bend the knee to caesar when the bitch can't even swim?

brutus, idealist that he is, also could not justify bending the knee. he did not want to lose his own power, though he couches it in shakespeare as a wish to remain free. it's through brutus' rhetoric about freedom that we get the idea of brutus and cassius as revolutionaries, when in truth all they wanted was to return to the pre-caesar status quo. and when they determined that the best way to usher in the revolution is through violence and bloodshed, they set forth the main tragedy of the play: that a revolution begun in blood will end in blood. we've seen this play out throughout the centuries: the french revolution, the russian revolution, pretty much every violent coup that ends in repressive regimes. as long as there are despots, there will be fodder for julius caesar productions. (cassius was onto something when he wondered how many times their actions would be played out in the future "in states unborn and accents yet unknown"!)

this timelessness was felt in the new swan production. the costuming was at parts roman-inspired, though not all the way through--people wore tunics reminiscent of southeast asian clothing, or hoods and masks, or--in the second half of the play--military camo atop their tunics marking their allegiances. one notable setting was the one for octavian and antony's conversation, set in what looked like a public bath. another notable costuming choice was caesar's majestic outfits--flowing, regal, queenlike.

the production notes mentioned a deliberate casting decision of 50-50 male-female roles, with antony, caesar, and cassius notably played as female, with their pronouns changed in the text to refer to them as female. calpurnia, caesar's wife, is taken out of the text and her lines given to lepidus instead, and the characters refer to him as caesar's husband--which does cause an interesting dynamic when lepidus says non-calpurnia lines in the bathhouse scene with antony and octavian. other roles were also condensed--cinna the conspirator was taken out of the text except in the scene with cinna the poet, titinius (our beloved plothole man) had his lines given to metellus cimber, and some of strato's lines were given to casca. also, strato's role in holding brutus' sword is entirely excised, which means that brutus stabs himself at the end, rather than implicate someone else in his death.

all in all, these changes led to a tighter-paced production, where the side characters like casca and metellus cimber were given more of a character arc than in the original. giving titinius' role to metellus cimber, for example, made cassius' death make more sense, because there was already established rapport between metellus cimber and cassius in the first part. (i would argue that in this production casca and cassius had more chemistry, though...)

another notable doubling choice was giving caesar's actor the lines for cinna the poet. i think that was striking for the production, because it made cinna the poet's death at the hands of the mob have a striking implication for this caesar's. who deserves to die, and who was just an innocent caught at the mercy of mob justice? was it only cinna? or was it caesar and cinna? if you ask mark antony, of course, she would say it was both of them. this production's mark antony did an excellent job in taking control of the narrative after caesar's death. i'm used to JC productions going to intermission after caesar's burial, but new swan deciding to do so after the dogs of war monologue certainly told me that that was the turning point--that by letting antony have any share in the narrative, brutus had signed the death warrant for his ~perfectly justified~ revolution. his idealism--his persistence in "civility" and "playing fair", was his fatal flaw.

a couple other scattered thoughts:

i could see that the production was more firmly on the 'bromance' side of the brutecass debate.

which, fair, yes, that is how people have traditionally read the dynamic, but i'm always a good sucker for a cassius obsessed with brutus to the point of dragging him down the path of destruction with her, and would love to see a bit more of this cassius' manipulative ability.

this cassius is fiery, sarcastic, and i do love the way she sinks to her knees in the tent scene when she offers her heart for brutus to stab, but...

i don't think this brutus is quite picking up what cassius is setting down. he's a liiiiiittle bit too heavy on the stoicism. the passion that he showed portia in her ONE scene with him? that's what i would have liked to see out of him in the tent scene, and in that forever and forever farewell cassius scene.

maybe i've just got deranged brutecass brainrot, but i do feel like the devotion that the two characters express to one another in the text itself is part of shakespeare's sympathetic portrayal of them.

i mean, otherwise, all we've got of cassius and brutus is that dante thinks they're such horrible betrayers that they're now forever being chewed on by satan in the ninth circle of hell, next to judas freaking iscariot. brutus and cassius are, as far as classic lit is concerned, sharing the afterlife together.

that's why their devotion to one another in shakespeare's play is so compelling. it's like cassius' one redeeming feature, that he's so unerringly loyal to brutus and only thinks the best of him. while brutus allowed himself to be seduced into cassius' conspiracy, and his own devotion to honour ends up signing away their lives.

and yet when cassius tries to warn him against letting antony take control of the narrative, cassius was still too in love with brutus to actually put his foot down and say no and stop it.

also this production's portia stole the show. in her one scene she was just incredible. badass. girlboss. 100/10 no notes.

according to the dramaturg, who was sitting near us during this showing, this show's caesar was an understudy because the other actor got covid? you literally couldn't tell because this caesar was spectacular. such mean girl energy. regina george would've been proud.

anyway, go see the production! or go see new swan's as you like it, or the complete (abridged) works of shakespeare. there's plenty of showings for the rest of this summer, and you'll be in for some solid acting and good fun.

#lily reviews shakespeare performances #julius caesar #new swan shakespeare festival #uc irvine #p: julius caesar

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