#those are the ones im most familiar with after american uniforms but american uniforms most of the time are like polos and khakis so | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sevlies-blog · 7 years ago

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hey babes !! i'm kat and i forgot.. that today was thursday, hence my acct being so late, work's rly playing mind games with me kjdlsfj. anyways, i'd make this super long and unnecessary like i normally do but im at work atm so i'm gonna make this quick. if you wanna plot, im me and feel free to ask for my discord, i prefer that over tumblr tbh ! so here's my rly.. weird bio for yeseul, hopefully you don't cringe like i still do but no promises lmao

{ aphrodite – park chaeyoung } did you see NAM YESEUL walk into the sorority house ? i heard the TWENTY-TWO year old SENIOR is known to be EBULLIENT & METICULOUS. but in the hallways, SHE is infamous for their TEMERARIOUS & DECADENT behaviour. one thing is sure, the SOCIOLOGY major is perfect for pennbrooke.

yeseul was born to her securities analyst father and secretary mother on the twenty-fourth of july, 1995. the youngest of two with an older brother two years her senior, she would live a fairly normal childhood in their three bedroom apartment in a high-rise uptown — taking on an admiration for the colour blue and puppies with luscious white fur long before plants, butter cream frosting and egyptian cotton sheets were to stand alongside them.

a maternal aunt had been the kids’ guardian while their parents worked during the day and early evening, suppers and bedtimes perhaps the most time they’d spend together on a given day, though that did not take away from seulie’s idolization of her eomma and appa. because efforts were always made to connect with their children, the occasional weekend outing an apology for their late hours and almost constant exhaustion.

she began her years of education in a uniform with a black sweater and skirt and a periwinkle button-up, a ribbon tying her bangs back subsequently matching the latter. eager to learn and meet new people, her first day of school was invigorating for her five year old self, which would remain constant as the years went by.

her parents had a happy marriage, which continues now, and are the source of seulie’s dreams for a relationship in the future. in fact, it was due to their strong relationship that upon her husband being offered a higher position in the korean-based company he worked for at their branch in san francisco’s financial district, her mother was the first to suggest moving - completely ecstatic in the matter - which led to the nams leaving ulsan for america when she was thirteen years old.

luckily, her parents enrolled both her and her brother in a school with a program for international students with little knowledge of english. while they understood the language quite well all things considered — perhaps from watching popular american shows while growing up — yeseul and taeil spoke it minimally.

thus the younger would end up spending an extra year in the program at her own accord, wishing to become more knowledgeable before being thrown into high school, entering at fifteen years old as opposed to fourteen.

she found the institution to be more complex than she would have preferred; while courses such as biology and pre-calculus were not troubling, she faltered in english and american history, albeit due to circumstance. so she was quiet and focused, it felt as though it was all that she really could be in this situation and it soon became her high school persona.

her brother often played protector when she was a child, from the rude upperclassman who shoved her off of their swing to the boy next door who laughed at her sobs upon falling off of her bike and skinning her knee on the sidewalk. she never asked that of him, he never made a vow to do so; it was merely an unspoken dynamic that remained even when her first girlfriend broke her heart by stringing her and her best friend along in junior year, remembering vividly taeil’s venomous words being spewed in the hallway of an acquaintance’s house party.

a girl as plush as the throw pillows on her double sized mattress, a slight evolution took charge as she transitioned into adulthood. with her kindness not being thwarted, she felt as though the dissolution of her naiveté, of her careful approach to much of the world around her, was necessary. these things do not happen overnight, as she had come to realize while standing in the middle of a friend’s older brother’s house party. any boldness that she had while standing on the doorstep dissipated at the sight of college kids all but forced to press against one another in the living room that reeked of pot, unintentionally listening to barely audible moans beneath the loud music that came from an unguarded upstairs bedroom. thus, after a couple of months of pushing her own boundaries — frequenting keggers with friends and the like — even seulie noticed that she had eased into a more outgoing and adventurous persona. she allowed most of her inhibitions to crumble and her confidence to grow, seemingly proud of the shift and rightfully so.

commencing her four year attendance at pennbrooke — far from the familiar alleyways of san francisco — she was determined to be one of the few who sail through university without the burden of uncertainty weighing them down. from a young age, she had an interest in both the humanities and science, a curious child endlessly fascinated by fiction and fact, the reasons for human behaviour and for life itself. thus this led to her proficiency in such subjects, in combination with being a high achiever it resulted in obtaining excellent grades in those courses.

this would edge her in the direction of longing to understand society and those suffering within it. uncovering varying family and sexual dynamics in, as well as values specific to, all cultures intrigued her, so much so that she often found herself reading journals about such topics when her homework for the next morning had since been completed.

she eventually came to the conclusion that garnering a knowledge in the differences of individuals and society’s effect on and reaction to them was something she wished to endure, especially if it helped people like her; perhaps she wasn’t an immigrant in the way that many others were, with her father having moved to america — and the family following — for an already acquired position in his company, however she still reaped the benefits of some narrow-minded individuals mocking her slight accent or much worse. her identity was split in two to accommodate her past in ulsan and her present and future in san francisco, and yet she felt a disconnect on both ends — knowing she’d be rejected by some of her beloved elders in her hometown for not following a more traditional and exclusive set of values, while either not being enough of or being too much of a stereotype to fellow classmates. it was for those reasons primarily that she wanted to study sociology, specifically social inequalities, and to hopefully pursue a career in such.

college was what she would consider her sexual liberation, much like other students. where high school was pivotal for first loves and long lasting friendships, post-secondary was a hub for flings and fleeting emotional attachments. of course, this was ideal for a girl who wished to invest in a relationship when it felt right, as though it would not simply be for someone’s thrill of the chase or in conjunction with half-assed efforts in building upon a connection. and with her ability to separate sex from love — unless the latter arose somewhere down the line organically — it didn’t take her long to dive into the realm of meaningless hookups in the winter semester of freshman year and subsequently deal with their aftermath. she had never intended to sink her proverbial claws into the soft skin of her lovers and lead them along, however such would often be the outcome and by the end of her sophomore year, she’d come to accept that — even embrace it. now her reputation is more than confusing to some, the laidback and seemingly kind-hearted girl seducing others only to lead them astray being a little farfetched. maybe it was the new role to assume that lessened the guilt over time, an unexplored dynamic that made her more than comfortable with the slight burden she had to bare to continue her escapades.

currently she embodies a charisma chocked full of sincerity and gentle bluntness, while teasing friends and hookups alike in various ways. she’s able to remain calm and collected in conflict, though she may become defensive if it involves her loved ones or if it’s courtesy of someone who disrespects her or another’s boundaries. in moments of stress, she is actively trying to stay calm if it warrants such a response, in her eyes; for instance, a short deadline for a research paper or the disappearance of her mother’s engagement ring would lead to those attempts.

she considers the temptress within to be an alter ego as opposed to a variation of herself; where she normally attempts to think decisions through, she is impulsive and tactless under these circumstances, prioritizing her own pleasure and desires above all else.

she loves love, hence why she wishes to pursue such a thing after college, when people tend to take it more seriously. it doesn’t hinder her from helping her friends, more than willing to find suitable partners for them, however she’s quick to talk them out of it if it seems like a mistake that will only hurt them in the end.

seulie enjoys compliments, giving and receiving them, however she is often quick to deflect most of the latter. she doesn’t seek praise only to respond in a false humble manner, but simply to know if she’s doing something correctly or if it’s appreciated by others; thus if one compliments her on perhaps her beauty, she tends to insist otherwise — at least initially.

she despises individuals who don’t respect boundaries, and due to fragments of her sex life spilling from the lips of some past lovers, she often attracts such people and has no qualms about putting them in their place. she also dislikes avocados, soap operas and birkenstocks - she simply doesn’t understand their appeal - as well as dismissive, argumentative and/or obnoxious people.

#╳┊: — just to feel it in my fingers. •「 ooc. 」#thegreeksooc

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wendynerdwrites · 7 years ago

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Im glad that u also like archer. Ive been rewatching it (im on s2) and i feel guilty as a feminist for liking it so much :( i know a lot of the jokes are supposed to be ironic but i still feel bad for laughing, and my bf has made comments abt "how can u laugh at that as a feminist" (he isnt one, hes using it as a gotcha). How do u feel about this? Any advice for separating myself from toxic fandom to just be able to enjoy something problematic? Love ur blog btw happy friday 💋💋

Thanks, and don’t worry, anon: You’re not a bad feminist.

It’s funny you ask this, but I used to have an entire essay series on this exact topic, and on Archer, particularly!

My philosophy is: don’t ignore the problematic, examine it. Use it as a springboard for analysis so you can learn more about the issue conveyed. Use your problematic responsibly! Because, let’s be honest, there ARE no unproblematic pieces of media. So just use it to educate yourself instead. For instance: my love of West Side Story (starring Natalie Wood as the Puerto Rican Maria) got me to learn more about the issues of white-washing.

Being a feminist is not about being perfect, it’s about learning and being open to examination and learning. Use your fandom for good!

Laughter is the balm for the soul. And listening to your boyfriend telling you how to be a feminist… less so. Kind of the opposite.

My old articles are lost, for the most part, but under the cut, I’ve pasted them for reference and included a great video on satire that also very easily applies to this discussion (just substitute feminism with the Holocaust)

Our Faves Are Problematic (And So Can You!)

Nothing and no one is perfect, so isnt it about time we learn how to call out the things we love?

We are all familiar with guilty pleasures: those things we like in spite of ourselves, that we are ashamed to admit we enjoy. Usually the term is applied to something we enjoy despite a perceived “lameness”, or because we’re not the right demographic for something. For instance, I still have a deep, abiding affection for Sailor Moon: that colorful, stock-footage-laced Japanese phenomenon that still gets me shouting “MOON PRISM POWER!” when I’m in the right mood. Yes, childhood is over, and yes, the show’s American dub did give me incest panic as a child, but I can’t help but love it.

But then there is the more difficult brand of guilty pleasures guilty pleasures that involve actual guilt instead of “mild embarrassment”. I’m talking about problematic faves the stuff that we love despite it containing clearly objectionable material.

willing18

(Image copyright Vertigo Comics)

…This is a panel from Bill Willingham’s Fables. The character there is Bigby Wolf, one of the main (anti) heroes of the story and the character the writer identifies with most. The person Bigby is waxing poetically on pro-Zionism to is someone literally called “The Adversary”.

Fables also happens to be one of my favorite comic book series on the planet.

Safe to say the issues surrounding Israel, Palestine, and the Middle East are a bit more complicated than that. And my own feelings on the matter are far more complicated. But this glorification of Israeli military policy is… um… in very tame terms… uncomfortable. After reading this, I resolved to only check Fables out of the library: a way for me to enjoy these comics in a legal way without financially supporting these ideas, however indirectly.

There are other problems with Fables: a lack of ethnic diversity, some murky racial and class commentary, and instances of some objectionable tropes, but there is a lot to recommend of these books as well. The stories are fantastic, the art brilliant, the characters well-fleshed out, and there is a definite progressive take on issues like gender and sexuality. But as much as I love this series, there is no getting around the fact that these stories have issues.

No excuses.

But it’s not just Fables that has disappointed me in the past. I am now and forever a Trekker, yet despite how horribly sexist episodes like “The Turnabout Intruder” are, or the very troubling anti-Semitic coding of the Ferengi. The Star Wars prequels famously had racist caricatures with the Trade Federation and the infamous Jar Jar Binks.

In the world of media, there’s no shortage of problematic content. From the novels of Robert Heinlein containing pro-fascist commentary, to HBO’s Game of Thrones misogynistic adaptation decisions, there’s nothing that is quite free of some messed up messages, subtle and blatant alike.

Now, when we talk about such media, we don’t merely mean triggering factors (i.e. the presentation, portrayal, or discussion of potentially traumatizing issues like domestic abuse, racism, hate crimes, substance abuse, or sexual assault), but rather how these matters are portrayed. A piece of media, such as Marvel and Netflix’s excellent Jessica Jones series, can portray certain issues (such as sexual assault, domestic violence, and mental illness) in a respectful, progressive, and sensitive light. Thus, while the content of the show can be triggering, the skill with which they portray these matters keeps it from being problematic.

In contrast, something like Game of Thrones, which portrays sexual assault in a thoroughly insensitive, exploitative, and misogynistic manner, is highly problematic.

Unfortunately, progress has been a slow-moving process, with many issues such as race, gender, sexual identity, mental illness, substance abuse, and violence only being examined in a more nuanced way fairly recently. As a result, almost all media is problematic in one way or another. Especially since even today, the majority of executives crafting, publishing, and greenlighting books, shows, comics, movies, and other forms of media are in fact cisgendered, heterosexual white men.

So what do we do?

Good news: here at Fandom Following, we don’t believe in dropping something you like just because it’s problematic. Why?

Because knowing, examining, and yes, even appreciating problematic content can be incredibly important. While certain content can be damaging, it can also teach us a great deal. Not only about current issues, but also about how to go about discussing these matters, and constructing narratives in general.

The racial issues in things like Star Wars and Star Trek can teach us much about how coding works, and how to avoid reinforcing stereotypes. The exploitation of women and rape on Game of Thrones can open up a dialogue of how to portray these things properly and improperly.

There are three tricks to enjoying problematic media: 1) Recognizing that there is an issue, 2) Being ready for a dialogue, and 3) Not ignoring or silencing the complaints about said issues.

Well, we here at Fandom Following have decided to tackle this issue head on with a series called “Our Faves Are Problematic (And So Can You!)”, where we will be exploring specific media franchises, creators, and works and, specifically, the problematic content they contain. In this series, we’ll be examining the issues, talking about why they’re important, discussing what this piece of media did wrong, how to approach the issue in a more progressive way, and the best ways to go about discussing the issue itself. Various writers will be contributing to this project, and we’re excited to present this feature to you!

So let’s get down and dirty, people. We all have our problematic faves. Let’s talk about them.

My Face is Problematic: Archer

Honestly, doing a post like this on Archer, a show which is deliberate in its dark humor, is a bit hard for me. Not because I like the show, but because I think there’s true validity in the argument that humor and narratives about really messed up, problematic stuff has its place. The show exists to be as outlandish and absurd as possible. The extremes and the awfulness of the characters’ personalities and their actions is the point.

I VUZ BORN IN DUSSELDORF AND THAT IS VY THEY CALL ME ROLF!

Joking about awful things, awful circumstances, and awful people is hardly new ground for comedy to cover, nor does it send a poor message, necessarily. Mel Brooks wrote a movie in which one of the characters was a Nazi, who wrote an overblown pro-Nazi musical produced by men deliberately trying to make a flop. Springtime For Hitler, as it exists in our universe, is not problematic. The Nazis are the butt of the joke, in which any pro-Nazi sentiment can only function if it is wildly fabricated and over-the-top, and even then, it will still be taken for satire. Because Nazis are utterly terrible, they built their movement on total bullshit that they dressed up in shiny boots and Hugo Boss uniforms and German exceptionalism and “glory”. This song-and-dance number about “Don’t be stupid, be a smartie, come and join the Nazi party” only ever deserves to be a joke, as the Jew who wrote it can tell you. Nazis fucking suck and it’s hilarious that anyone would ever suggest otherwise.

There’s justice in reducing Nazis to self-parody, and doubling down on that by making a joke about them being reduced to self-parody. Especially when said self-parody and depiction of it is crafted by the very people Hitler tried to destroy. No one enjoys or masters mocking Nazis like the Jews. Plain and simple.

Joking about awful things and how terrible they are can be a good way to process things and not allow them to hurt you anymore. Comedy, at its core, is a defense mechanism against horror and pain. There’s a reason slapstick is a classic subgenre of comedy that people have built entire careers around. Laugh at terror and pain to make it go away. Unfortunately, some of the things we manage to find humor in can really make you wonder if were all just terrible and have no limits.

Angela’s Ashes is a memoir by Frank McCourt about his impoverished, abusive, dangerous childhood in Ireland. In it, he chronicles his own starvation, life-threatening illness, abuse, and suffering at the hands of alcoholism and brutality from adult authority figures. He was a child laborer who went days without food while his father drank away the family’s money and abused the rest of the family, who often came down with horrifying illnesses as a result of the terrible conditions he lived in, and spent his formative years suffering along with all the people he loved. Three of his infant siblings die within the space of a chapter. We get a glimpse of the time when his father, overjoyed at the birth of his daughter, finds the will to stop drinking, stop mistreating his family, go to work, provide for his family, and just generally be a better person so that his children don’t have to suffer. For a short period, the McCourts have food, heat, and happiness. Then the baby promptly dies and Frank’s father is back in the pubs, once again squandering any pay he manages to acquire on alcohol and returning home at three am to scream at and beat his wife while his remaining children try to cover their ears and sleep on the cold ground.

Along with being praised for it being a both an unflinchingly brutal depiction of poverty and a testament to the triumph of the human spirit, the book is also praised for its humor.

Remember: Angela’s Ashes is a true story written by the very man who suffered through all of these horrible things. And it’s considered a pretty funny book. And the author who, once again, is the person who actually suffered all of these horrible things, actually did intentionally try to make people laugh as they read about that time he was in the hospital with Typhoid Fever and enjoyed it because it was the first time he’d been in a place where he was fed regularly and got to sleep in a warm bed.

Hilarious.

That being said, there’s satire and dark humor, and there’s just gratuitous, shock-jock bullshit. There are jokes that are terrible simply because of what they’re about and how they’re handled. George Carlin said that anything can be made funny, even rape, if you imagine Elmer Fudd raping Porky Pig.

If we can build entire films and musicals about how any pro-Hitler sentiment can only ever be taken as satire, isn’t that proof that you can joke about anything?

Yes, you can, but that doesn’t mean you should try, that the joke is funny, or that it’s alright, necessarily. Maybe Elmer Fudd, Porky Pig, and Springtime for Hitler prove that anything can be made funny and that’s okay. But if that’s true (and no, I’m not saying that it is), that still doesn’t mean every attempt at making something funny is either acceptable or funny.

Springtime for Hitler is not a get-out-of-jail-free card for any attempt to make a terrible subject the object of humor. Standards need to exist.

Unfortunately, the line between good or acceptable dark humor and simply gratuitous, insensitive, inherently problematic jokes can blur. The excuse of humor can only go so far. Yes, make light of Nazis. But there’s still a point where “humor” is used an excuse for people to act like assholes. And it’s an excuse that is used all too often. Radio Shock Jocks have been using that excuse to help reinforce racism and rape culture for quite a while. Whether certain dudebros like it or not, there’s a point where it stops being gross-out and just starts being gross.

Which brings me to Archer, the animated spy comedy on FX that premiered in 2011. Like many comedy series like Seinfeld or It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, a major part of the premise is that certain characters are, quite simply, terrible people. These characters and their abhorrent behavior is the joke. And, as the show is about spies, these terrible people are often put into highly dangerous, outlandish, and traumatizing situations.

So, the main characters, by virtue of their profession, spend a lot of time killing people in cold blood. Or trying to seduce or manipulate enemies. Or engaging in clandestine operations of sabotage that harm a lot of people. Horrible, violent things are going to happen, things violent enough to serve as narratives on their own. But most of the characters are as awful as the situations they encounter, so the horror is amplified. And it’s a comedy.

Indeed, in the first episode of the fifth season, we get the whole main ensemble recounting all of their actions and experiences working for the spy agency ISIS that we’d witnessed over the course of the show’s run at that point. Drag racing with the Yakuza, knee-capping the Irish mob, encountering human traffickers, 30 year affairs with the head of the KGB that only ended when the guy was blown up because one of the ISIS members had choke sex with the victim’s cyborg replacement, actual piracy, paying homeless people to fight for spectators, defling a corpse, defiling a different corpse, sexual assault, kidnapping the pope, blowing up oil pipelines, “smuggling Mexicans”

Yeah.

There are comedic arcs about cancer, illegal immigration, kinky S&M bondage murders, cocaine addiction… a lot of stuff, basically.

Now, take those situations, and add in characters who get aroused by things like homeless people, being choked, sex with food, and the thought of their mother dying. Who spend their weekends starting fires, making hybrid pig-people, rubbing sand into the eyes of their employees, competing in underground Chinese Fighting Fish tournaments, and calling in bomb threats so that they can get a table at a fancy restaurant. You get the idea.

And it’s all totally awesome and hilarious and god damn it I kind of love these characters.

This show has a season-long sub-arc about one of the main characters getting so aggressively addicted to cocaine that she not only consumes (literally) half a ton of it in the space of a few months, but almost gets her head chopped off for buying amphetamines from the Yakuza with counterfeit money. It’s one of the most incredible things the show has done.

Pictured: An absurdly self-centered man feeling genuine dismay and concern over his friend risking her life to achieve an unrealistic standard of beauty.

The title character has a butler named Woodhouse who practically raised him. One of the first interactions we witness between them is Archer not only threatening to rub sand into Woodhouse’s “dead little eyes”, but making him go out and buy the sand himself and check if they grade it, because he wants the sand to be coarse. He’s also done things like make the man eat a bowl of spiderwebs and deliberately keep him in the dark about his brother’s death and funeral.

Another character is a mad scientist and possible clone of Adolf Hitler who kills a young intern by giving him a drug designed to turn him gay. That’s one of the less disturbing things Dr. Krieger has done.

Frequent gags on this show include one guy repeatedly getting shot, another character repeatedly getting paralyzed (it’s complicated), people trying to remember the inappropriate puns that they wanted say as one-liners, the horrific abuse and neglect Sterling Archer has received from his mother his entire life, and basically everyone being a sex-maniac.

There are plots revolving around mind-control, drugging people, and hypnotism. You can imagine the paths some of those episodes go down. Yes, there is a character that has tried to sexually assault one of her sleeping co-workers. And later deposited two unconscious, naked coworkers in a bathroom stall with an octopus, in an episode that has already made tentacle hentai jokes. Yes, the openly gay character on the show is often the target of jokes about him being gay or a woman from his coworkers. Yes, the female lead, a black woman, is referred to as a “quadroon” at one point by one of the characters.

Yes, the following exchange of dialogue does take place in an early episode:

“Oh my god, you killed a hooker!”

“Call-girl!”

“No, Cyril, when they’re dead, they’re just hookers!”

And yet… Oh my god. How it manages to play around with stuff in an amazing fashion. For one thing, it is amazing how often this show skewers micro-aggressions and fucks around with stereotypes. And, despite how unabashedly messed up it is, the writing in it actually manages to be oddly pro-social progress in ways that most modern media doesn’t even seem to be aware of.

I take pride in my sex work and I will not put up with your bullshit!

For instance the “hooker” referred to in that exchange? (spoiler alert: she wasn’t really dead) She’s Trinette, and she an unbelievably refreshing and strangely progressive depiction of a sex worker. While she’s a minor character, every time she shows up, it’s awesome. Trinette is a sex worker who is unashamed of her job, a woman who truly does take pride in and enjoy her work, who does not put up with poor behavior from her clients, and is just generally awesome. She call people out and makes them pay for any mistreatment she receives, from calling out micro-aggressions by insisting on her preferred terminology for her profession (“Call-girl, you puke!”), shaming men for their sexual misdeeds (“How can you cheat on Lana bare-back?!”), demanding restitution for any injuries or threats she’s suffered (Threatening Archer into giving her his car after he fakes her death and stuffs her in a rug to fool Cyril into thinking he killed her), and determining her work and clients (“What about Trinette? She said that? Damn it!”). When she has a baby, she gives it her last name along with his father’s (“Magoon-Archer”) and she unapologetically proud of her Irish heritage. She’s easily one of the most functional characters in the show, and every one of her appearances on the show manage to defy at least one whore-phobic trope a minute. She’s the best.

Then there’s the show’s handling of race, which is mixed. While arguably the most important female character in the series (the show, despite its name, is very, very much an ensemble, especially as the series progresses. But in the early episodes when they focussed on fewer characters, she was the one who got the most screentime) is Lana Kane, a highly-competent (for ISIS) African American woman who is really, really well-developed, there is also the fact that she’s the only POC in the main cast. Granted, part of that IS the point. One of the earliest episodes is “Diversity Hire”, where, aside from Lana, the spy agency is so overwhelmingly white that they hire a “diversity double-whammy!” Conway Stern, a black Jew.

“Sammy Gay-vis Junior!”

Now, granted, that doesn’t sound great the way I describe it, but there are so many great moments in this episode alone. For instance, when Mallory Archer, terrible woman and owner of the spy agency mentions their lack of diversity, Cyril, the tragically white accountant and “nice guy” puts his hands on Lana’s shoulder and says he thinks they’re pretty diverse, a statement Lana finds hilarious. Cue Sterling Archer, other horrible person, telling Lana she’s “black-ish”, then responding to her offense at this with “Well, you freaked out when I said quadroon!”. The framing of this entire discourse is that Cyril and Archer are fucking idiots and Lana is of course taking offense because, duh, she should. The episode proceeds with a lot of references and discussion about racism, highlighting casual racism in a nuanced, funny, and organic way. For instance, Archer’s relief that Conway didn’t sleep with his mother. While Archer freaks out about anyone sleeping with his mother, regardless of race, Conway believes it’s racism on Archer’s fault. And in no way does the narrative act like he’s overly-sensitive or irrational for thinking that. Because the stereotype about black men seducing white women and fear from white men about this is still a very real, pervasive thing that has somehow managed to survive in our “enlightened” times. Of course Conway encountering a guy who displays a downright violent fixation on whether or not his new black coworker is sleeping with his mother will assume it’s a race thing. Because why would anyone be so preoccupied with such an idea? In that situation, it’s almost certainly based on the long-standing paranoia white men have about black men’s sexuality “conquering their women.” It’s one of the most common varieties of anti-blackness in existence.

Of course, since it’s Archer, who has kidnapped a LOT of people under the suspicion that they were having sex with his mom, we know this is the one case that it isn’t racism. It’s Archer’s disturbing, Oedipal relationship with his mother. He even kidnapped and threatened his role model, Burt Reynolds, for dating his mother. When he says “Not in a racist way” to Conway in this episode, it’s actually true. He’s just honestly that screwed up where his mother is concerned.

Conway’s conclusions on this, regardless, are still framed as a totally understandable. To the point where the episodes suggests that it would make no sense for Conway to think otherwise. Part of the joke is that no, Archer isn’t a horrible racist at all. He’s way too screwed up for his actions to be motivated by racism.

And before anyone asks, no, this wasn’t the “episode that acknowledges that racism is a thing.” You know the ones… The episodes that talk about race and why racism is bad to prove to the audience that they’re not racist, then proceed with the rest of the show, which never acknowledges race and racism again. There are frequent instances of highlighting racism, from violent outright bigotry to common micro-aggressions to clueless white people demanding how the thing they just did/said could POSSIBLY be considered racist! They’re not racist! How is THAT racist?! Cue Lana face-palming.

I just really, really like this. It doesn’t just end there, either. Racism is called out pretty frequently on this show, and not in a cliche, strawman way. Nor is it treated like something that only exists in the form of aggressively bigoted bad people shouting slurs and holding cross burnings. Nope. The “heroes” of this show just say shit that you could easily imagine someone saying in real life, shortly before getting defensive about any racism on their part. It’s treated as a common, pervasive thing that Lana and other PoC have to deal with every day, and the offense they take at it is treated as nothing short of sympathetic or justified (even in the cases of misunderstandings, like with Conway). This includes Mallory telling Lana to “put [the race card] back in the deck!” as reminder of how much of an unapologetic douche Mallory is.

It’s made clear: people say and do some super racist shit on a regular basis with realizing it or meaning to, and regardless, it’s still uncool and people have every right to get upset and call you out on it. See: Ray’s bionic hand at the end of season six.

Lana’s reactions and how they’re framed is usually pretty awesome. Mostly they come in the form of small, reasonable confrontations, which are never framed as an overreaction on her part. The fact that she “freaked out” when Archer called her a quadroon is framed as “well, duh, of course, she should.” Then there are instances like when she, Archer, and their child visit a high-end nursery school where they encounter a pretty obvious racist. The guy ignores and dismisses Lana at first, then expresses surprise at the fact that she’s the mother of the child (despite the baby being black), remarking about the “times we live in” and telling Lana “good for you!” when she informs him that yes, she is the mother, not the nanny or the maid.

Not all of the racism stuff stems from Lana being back, either. They skewer bigotry against Latinos on a pretty regular basis. When an Irish mobster rants about Latinos (he doesn’t refer to them by that name) “taking American jobs!”, Archer immediately calls bullshit, recalling actual history of the Irish being accused of that exact same thing during the mass immigration of the Irish to America during the potato famine, and it’s just as shitty and bigoted to say such things about immigrants now as it was in 1842. He is extremely irate about a mission ISIS is assigned to do on behalf of border patrol to arrest people who just want to get a job, and he ends up siding with and befriending the Mexican illegal immigrants he encounters. All of this while aspects of certain Latinx cultures are often highlighted, often very favorably (“Ramone is Latino, so he’s not afraid to express affection.”)

That being said, there are still a lot of issues in the show. The lack of diversity is definitely an albatross around this show’s neck. Especially so many seasons after the “Diversity Hire” episode. While I do praise Archer for not treating racism as a thing that is rare and only needs to be addressed in one twenty-minute block of time, it is telling that the lack of diversity at ISIS is never addressed again.

Then there’s the approach to sexuality. The show loves gross-out sex humor, especially regarding Krieger. And the depiction of sexuality is actually pretty mixed. On one hand, the openly gay character in the show adheres to a lot of stereotypes about gay men: he mocks Lana about her “knock-off Fiacci drawers”, his go-to alias is “Carl Channing”, his free time is spent at raves, and he loves to make effeminate poses. He’s also a frequent target of homophobic jokes and remarks. His outrage at this is treated as being every bit as valid as Lana’s, but it doesn’t change the fact that their main gay character is basically ALL of the stereotypes, as are a number of the other gay characters.

“Alright! Were off to get our scrotums waxed!”

Then there is the sexual assault. Which, once again, is called out for being what it is, in defiance of many common biases (such as the idea that female-on-male sexual assault isn’t a thing). But this show is way too flippant about this.

While I consider Archer to be very sex-positive, allowing every character, regardless of sex, age, or orientation, to be comfortable and expressive about their sexuality without judgment (a lot of jokes, yes, but not any that come off as particularly shaming). Almost every character, male or female spends a fair amount of time naked or scantily clad. We see Archer stripped down just as often as Lana. And the fan service isn’t relegated to just women who adhere to the typical youth and weight obsessed eurocentric standards we all know and hate.

Pam, who is a big woman (and often the target of fat jokes, which the show always treats as nothing short of detestable) is a total sex goddess who grows to be utterly confident in herself as a woman to the point where she’s giving Mallory (one of the most desired women on the show) advice. When she reveals that she keep ingesting cocaine because it’s made her thin with big boobs, Archer is utterly dismayed, telling her she was way better off the way she was, acting horrified that she’d risk her life to be “hot”, and just generally freaking out about Pam’s desire to be thin. It manages to avoid being cliche or empty given that Archer considered Pam the best sex he ever had before she got thin, to the point of blowing off assignments just to have sex with her, because she’s just that awesome. After she gains the weight back in season six, she’s still sexy, making Archer’s jaw drop in the episode “Edie’s Wedding.” She’s also unapologetically pansexual, which is awesome.

Mallory, meanwhile, is still actively sexual and treated as desirable. While sex and sexuality are always sources of gags and jokes on Archer, never do the jokes about Mallory’s sexuality ever come across as ageist. Sure, some characters make ageist comments on the show, but it’s never treated as valid. Mallory is still treated as being extremely sexy and confident about it. While Mallory is generally a horrible person, her enthusiastic sexual agency is never once treated as a flaw or something disturbing or gross. What’s disturbing, gross, and worthy of ridicule is her son being so preoccupied and reactionary about his mother having a sex life. It’s clear: if you have a problem with Mallory having a lot of sex and enjoying it, you’re the one with issues.

Even the one young, thin, white woman in the main cast gets to be unapologetic about her kinks. It’s really only a problem when her desire for choke-sex motivates her to lead a KGB cyborg to the ISIS safehouse. Or when she coerces Cyril into sex. And generally acts like a violent, awful person.

Essentially, there’s no tolerance for shaming women for being sexual. All of it, regardless of preference, age, size, or race, is nothing but fun and should be enthusiastically represented. “Can’t talk, got a pussy to break!”

Being a predator is shameful. Having belly rolls is not.

Who on Earth finds this funny?

But, then there’s the flippancy about sexual assault. There ARE gags about Pam and Ray dropping their pants when encountering an unconscious Cyril. And sorry, but the framing of it is all manner of screwed up. There’s tons of sexual coersion as well. Another one of the most problematic instances comes in an episode of season two, where Archer is repeatedly sexually assaulted by a sixteen-year-old German socialite. The show goes out of its way to make it clear that Archer explicitly refuses consent, that he’s being violated, yet the show treats this as funny.

While I get that this is a comedy show and that in-depth exploration of the trauma of sexual abuse isn’t going to be something they can spend a lot of time on, the option they should have gone with is, you know, not base an episode around a german schoolgirl raping the main character. It’s not funny, guys. It’s not necessary. It’s actually just uncomfortable and off-putting.

The show mentions things like alternative gender identities, emotional triggers, and sexual exploration in ways that treat these things as totally valid, which is good. It also frequently portrays poor people as jokes in and of themselves, which is a lot less good. While materialism is lampooned frequently, it’s not treated as a joke in and of itself the way poverty is.

The way the show often portray legitimate abuse for laughs also often goes overboard. While the show does a good job of exploring and following through on all the ways Mallory’s abuse screwed up Archer, there’s a point where the volume of “abuse humor” gets to just be downright gross. Dark humor is one thing, not being able to go an episode without a “Haha, ten-year-old archer was abandoned in a train station at Christmas!” joke is, uh… Not great.

Archer is an awesome, immensely watchable show. But it’s not one I always feel clean watching. It’s a show that celebrates extremes, yes, but there’s a point where certain lines are crossed and it’s just problematic rather than gallows humor.

Archer is one of those series that really makes me struggle to distinguish the gallows humor from the simple tastelessness. To give pause to the idea of problematic content being the “point.”

The line blurs with Archer. A lot. It often manages to distinguish itself with the things it gets right, especially since they often do well on things that most shows, movies, and books are often terrible at. And that’s enough to buy it some goodwill for when they screw up.

But seriously, guys, please stop treating sexual coercion and child abuse as bottomless gag wells. I would have really preferred to have Pam and her awesome sexuality without her sexually assaulting Cyril and Ray. It’s not funny or clever or edgy. It’s just gross.

youtube

#archer fx #your fave is problematic #anon #feminism

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peacefulrevivalteen · 4 years ago

Text

Round 3 Bonus: Confrontation

Part 1 [Here] @taiyuu-high-oct also @luna-moon9696 for mentions of Lyrimon and sisters WC: 4900

It’s often passed around that one of the most effective hunting strategies our human ancestors had, was not the spears, clubs, fires that while helpful couldn’t bring down a mammoth alone. No what the most effective strategy those cavemen could employ was tenacity, to chase those animals until they exhausted themselves, that’s when they would strike.

Just like those cavemen of old, the principal of U.A, Aizawa Shouta, the hero known as Eraserhead has tracked their own exhausted prey to the edge of campus.

Aizawa strolls ever closer towards the figure bent over and leaning on an old tree. The panting of his prey grows ever louder the closer the he gets.

He just about reaches the exhausted figure greedily gulping down air, reaching an arm out toward its shoulder, a cracking noise gives away his presence, the figure whipping around to confront them in response.

The teal haired applicant that he recalls saved a student’s life from a collapsing zero pointer, stares the man down questioningly, her breathing much calmer and deeper than when she departed.

The girl known as Ozen Fujinuma stands before Aizawa, this version of her, starkly contrasts the one from his entrance exam.

“What do you want” the girl gruffly asks, arm rubbing across her mouth in an attempt to rid herself of any spittle.

Aizawa only raises an eyebrow at the display “You left class quite abruptly back there, I’m just here to check in on you” he nonchalantly shrugs.

“I’m. Fine” the girl asserts, as if she didn’t just finish running cross campus hyperventilating.

“Yeah cut the bullshit kid, I know that’s not true, you know that’s not true, anyone with a working set of eyes knows that not true.” Aizawa retorts. “Mind telling me what happened back there? No bullshiting either.”

Taken back by the abrupt demeanor of her, could have been principal, she turns away nervous.

“I happened to have been set up against that Spellman girl, who I found out earlier in the year I’m allergic to.”

“What did I say about bullshit, kid?” Aizawa huffs out in response.

“It’s true! Whenever I am around her, my quirk starts to act up!” Ozen explains.

Aizawa raises a brow at the explanation. “You were doing fine till the end, explain that.”

“Well, I found if I channeled my negative feelings onto her, my quirk would work as normal, it stopped at the end because well…” Ozen rubs the back of her head as she tries to conjure the words.

“Her scream reminded me of when I saw her melt, back when we were evacuating. The worry washed away all those negative feelings and the allergy started messing with my quirk again.” She explains.

Aizawa’s hand combs through his hair in thought. “You know that’s not actually an allergy right?” the hero sighs out.

“You’re feelings for this Spellman girl are interfering with your quirk” he states without a beat.

“I d-d-don’t have any feelings for Spellman!” the tall girl denies, the --allergens must have stuck to my outfit if they are reaching this far out— Ozen concludes delusionally.

“Again with the bullshit, how about with others, do they all interact with your quirk the same?” Aizawa questions.

“Well, no.” Ozen states, attempting to recall other situations. “Popi can move and braid my hair, my sister was able to kick me off the couch that one time, and last big one was back when my quirk first appeared, my mom couldn’t pick me up anymore which to a kid, really hurts—“

Aizawa nods along, the thought of never being able to pick up Eri again, attaches a string if sympathy to the student’s story.

“But after I cried and begged her to pick me up again, my mom was able to.” The teen girl finishes, unabashed.

“Apart from whatever that couch situation was—“

“Miku was hosting a live show!”

“Don’t interrupt kid, anyways it seems like all those situations all have a strong emotional response in common, you’re telling me your family never realized the connection?” The hero asks, crossing his arms.

“Well, to be fair, none of us knew my quirk was an emitter till the last couple months of middle school.” Ozen answers, scratching her cheek nervously.

“So you’re just behind in training your quirk?”

“You.. could say that…” The teenager responds, avoiding the adult’s eyes in shame.

“Well what does that mean?” Aizawa continues to dig.

The teenager lets out a huff of frustration at the barrage of questions proceeding to meet the hero’s gaze with her trademark scowl.

“It, means, I haven’t worked on it at all!” Ozen nearly shouts.

“So you’re holding yourself ba—“

“NO IM NOT HOLDING MY SELF BACK!” The teenager seethes. “I don’t need that part of my quirk! I don’t need it to hold up buildings, or punch through walls, to jump off of buildings, or any other hero stuff!”

If the hero is perturbed by the girls shouting, he doesn’t show it as he narrows his gaze and leans in, starting the –dissection--

“Look, I saw your entrance exam, I know exactly what you are capable of. You didn’t let people get needlessly hurt just for points, you saved that kid from the zero pointer and you even chastised the person afterwards who didn’t check his surroundings before destroying the robot. You’re capable Ozen, but you’re complacent.”

“E-excuse me?!” The teenager exclaims with a recoil. “You don’t know me at all!” she responds through gritted teeth.

“Maybe I don’t, not entirely. What I do know however, is that you made the right choice when you rejected U.A’s offer.” The principal responds, hands returning to his pockets.

The comment catches Ozen off guard. “Why’s that?” Ozen probes.

“Rejecting an offer looks a lot better than expulsion, see, if that’s the attitude you have with your quirk, you wouldn’t last one. day. here. Our motto is after all, plus ultra.” Aizawa states.

Ozen just stands there shocked, watching the principal head back to the gym.

“I’ll let Laccadaisy know you are alright, don’t leave campus and you’re free to roam around.” The hero informs without turning around.

Ozen just stands rooted in her spot for a good ten minutes as her head continues to go over principal’s parting remarks. Eventually Ozen pushes it to the back of her mind, and start back across the field.

A reflection of light bounces off something in the grass, the brief glimmer is enough to catch Ozen’s attention. A quick search has the girl inspecting a lightly cracked cellphone, Vai’s cellphone to be exact if the recent message asking how “bondage-san” was doing, is any inclination.

“Must have been what snapped earlier” she says to herself, pocketing the phone, hoping to return it. ----------

Having returned to the temporary dorms way before anyone else, Ozen leaves the phone on the central table, a note attached indicating the owner.

True purpose of her return was for a change of clothes, half an hour later Ozen emerges from the dorm in a spare U.A uniform, fighting the skirt that was shorter than she was used to.

“Well, at least these uniforms have leggings…” the girl grumbles to herself. Not wanting to see her classmates after the debacle in gym gamma, Ozen makes her way across campus.

Far away from gym gamma Ozen finds herself in front gym beta, the intense sounds of fighting emanate from within, drawing the tall girl’s attention.

Ozen opens the door and walks in wide eyed at the chaos occurring in front of her. After a couple of steps, a large bony hand finds itself planted on the girl’s shoulder.

“Miss, you appear to be lost, this is 3a heroics” the voice attached to the arm informs.

Ozen turns towards the voice, her eyes widening as she looks up at the not totally emaciated form of the former number one hero All Might. Her brain having a nerd melt down only second to meeting the real Hatsune Miku.

“Miss? Are you okay” the former number one hero inquires.

“A-A-A-All Might!” the gawking girl squeaks out

It’s been a while since I got this kind of reaction, All Might chuckles, a first year maybe? If so.. I can’t let her ditch class just for me

“Miss shouldn’t you be returning to class, it’s unbecoming of a rising hero ditch.” The former hero lectures.

Ditching class? What? Ozen thinks in response to the accusation. Looking down at her outfit she yelps and fumbles for her skirt’s pockets. Finally finding her missing accessory Ozen quickly pins the Taiyuu logo on her tie.

Another chuckle from the former hero recapture’s her attention. “Oh I see, you’re from that school we are sheltering.” Ozen only nods, albeit quite furiously.

Motioning for her to follow, All Might leads them to a pair of chairs situated by the door. “You’re welcome to stay and watch, these 3a students tend to be quite proficient on their own.” The hero sits down and offers Ozen the other spot, one she quickly accepts.

The two lithe giants watch the chaos constantly unfolding in front of them, All Might only speaking up on rare occasions.

“It’s a little chaotic, but it’s organized chaos” the former hero hums, providing an answer to her unvoiced question.

“Say, I don’t think I caught your name, miss.” The gentle giant asks with a smile.

“F-Fujinuma, O-Ozen!” She nearly shouts out before continuing, “But please call me Ozen, n-not in the I like you Japenese way, I’m not saying you are unlikeable I bet you’re quite likeable I mean I got off track, please call me by my first name Ozen, I prefer the Americanized naming convention.” She blurts out.

The man’s chuckle is contagious as he takes in the flustered Taiyuu student. “Well, nice to meet you Ozen” he responds smiling

Having said the name however, the former hero begins to rub his chin in thought. “Fujinuma Ozen.. Why does that name sound familiar?” he postulates.

Scratching her head with an inclination of why, she attempts to answer the man. “Well, I rejected my U.A offer, if that sounds familiar.”

Ozen watches the cogs turn in All Might’s head, processing the new information.

“That’s right!” All Might snaps his fingers in realization. “I remember I had to make two discs for you! It’s not often we have students placing first, rejecting their enrollment offer. Good job in there by the way, I meant it when I said there’s always be a spot open here.”

Hearing all of this brings her mind back to earlier, the principal’s words echoing in her head. Ozen brings her knees in and begins to hug her legs, thankful for the leggings. The girl rests her head on her knee’s as she watches the former hero, and current Idol, talk.

All Might catches sight of the morose shift in body position out from the corner of their eye. Realizing what he just said might have hit a nerve, especially with recent events, the former hero begins to backpedal.

“Not saying Taiyuu is bad at all! They have great teachers, evident with how they got you all out safely! We had villains invade us too you know!” He forcefully chuckles before coughing into his hand.

“Eraserhead told me it was good I rejected the offer.. that I wouldn’t have lasted a day here.” The girl says all of a sudden.

Having known his fellow teacher for years now at this point, knowing he wouldn’t have said that if he didn’t have a reason, All Might wonders if he may be of some help to the girl.

“Oh, and why is that?” All Might asks.

“Say’s I’m complacent” she mumbles in response.

“Complacent?” All Might repeats, confused.

“Yeah, about half a year ago my family and I, thanks to the expertise of a quirk specialist found out my quirk was actually an emitter, and that I could begin building my muscle again if I got it under control, or used the brace that turned off my quirk. I’m “Complacent” because I haven’t trained my quirk, or used the brace for any significant amount of time. He talked about how I should be going plus ultra but he’s not the one that has to deal with the overstimulation that turning off my quirk provides. I’m only half assing if I don’t put myself through that hell everyday. Yeah okay I get it, my quirk being compromised because of teenage ‘crushes’ is a liability, it’s not like every villain is going to be fucking Lyrimon!” Ozen rants to her idol, only stopping to breathe once finished.

“That does sound like Aizawa” All Might responds after taking in the dizzying amount of information.

“I understand why you wouldn’t want to put the brace on, but why can’t you train your quirk?” All Might follows up, sparing a glance around in case anyone died, nope, good.

“I only learned I could a couple months ago, I have no idea where to start, I’m basically four years old again in respects to that side of my quirk. My mom’s quirk is only kinda similar, so no luck there. The doctor did say I could use the brace to train it but that just leads back to the horrors of over stimulation hellscape.” Ozen responds in frustration.

“Hmm” All Might verbally ponders. “Tell me about your quirk, how the doctor described it in particular.” He follows up.

“I can transfer forces between different things as long as I am in contact with the force, what caused the confusion this whole time was the fact that, I’m always in contact with the gravitational force of the earth, so ever since I was little I’ve just been transferring all the forces acting on me to the earth which has become so ingrained within me that I don’t know how to turn it off” Ozen recounts.

With a hand on his chin All Might starts to sort through the information in his head, prompting relative silence between the two. The silence between them doesn’t last long as former hero abruptly stands up.

“I got it!” He announces triumphantly

“You do?!” Ozen responds “Wait, got what?”

“I might have someone that could help you with your quirk” All Might answers.

“Hoseki! Mind coming over here for a moment?” All Might calls out across the chaotic gym, the fights begin to part like the red sea as student with blue skin, maroon hair and a unique set of ears reminiscent of butterfly wings emerges from the chaos.

“Hey! What can I do for you All Might!” the faerie like girl greets cheerfully.

Directing the third year towards Ozen has All Might begin to introduce the two.

“Hoseki, this is Fujinuma Ozen, she’s a first year hero student from Taiyuu, and she’s having trouble with a certain aspect of her quirk. Her quirk in some regards is similar to yours, both deal with forces.” All Might introduces.

“Ozen, this is Hoseki Fei, a third year hero student and one of U.A’s top three!” The former hero introduces with a little added fan fair of his own.

“Aww shucks All Might, I can toot my own horn fine enough” she chuckles, free hand scratching the back of her head.

“Nice to meetcha Fujinuma-San!” the boisterous thirds year says going in for an introductory handshake.

“Ah, please I prefer my first name, my mom’s American side kind of rubbed off on me.” Ozen replies, accepting the handshake

“Oh neat! My mom’s American too, I’m fine with Fei as well if you are, Ozen-San.”

“That’s fine with me Fei-San, say what was your quirk?” Ozen asks.

“Oh yeah! My quirk is called kinetic impact, I can store any force applied to my body and later redirect outwards!” the third year demonstrates with a “pew!” from a finger gun, rustling Ozen’s hair.

“Amazing” Ozen nods “it is quite similar” she continues, hands patting down the disturbed hair.

“We could meet up for some, one on one sessions while you guys are still here! It won’t be as good as my grandma’s training sessions though” the third year shivers, rubbing at phantom bruises. “Which is probably a good thing” she continues.

All Might can’t help but smile as he watches the duo work out timing. Aizawa might have been right about the complacency but he forgot to mention how they would have broken through that. Was this his intention all along? To push the girl out of her comfort zone? Guess you don’t stop being a teacher when you’re the principal he muses. ----------

The week following the attack on Taiyuu brought stress not just to the students and faculty but to their families as well. A certain mother of two with her sits on the side of the road, anyone looking in could see the concern etched on their face. There parked on the side of the road she just let time tick forward, a lit cigarette to calm her nerves before the meeting. It’s not about her, she has to be strong for the daughter who is strong for everyone else. Resting her head on the steering wheel the smoke wafts idly by, there in the distance was where her daughter and her class was taking asylum. U.A’s main building, a marker off in the distance, to think her daughter would end up here anyways. “All roads lead to Rome..” the women mumbles to an empty car. Sparing the clock a glance the women sighs, mentally she gives herself a minute before getting ready. Last of the cigarette inhaled and discarded away from view, she tidies her hair in the mirror. Satisfied, the car starts with little fanfare, windows now fully down, vents the smoke as the women easily integrates with the morning traffic.

The Fujinuma family moved to reside in the city connected to Taiyuu High, the proximity allowed their daughter to make weekly trips back home, their family big on dinners with everyone. A part of her old life Ozen's mom couldn't imagine getting rid of. At this point it was their ritual, the Fujinuma’s, not the family she separated from.

This week however, the family ritual was disrupted with the appearance of villains on the island, an island run by heroes no less. Thankfully her daughter is safe, the school having evacuated to the sanctuary of U.A. While yes U.A was attacked by villains before as well, really the worried mother just wants to be mad at someone.

U.A… While it was always her daughter’s choice in hero schools, Ozen's mom wonders if she should have been more vocal about supporting U.A. and while it showed up that middle school of leeches, was it worth it? Her daughter always felt like she had control over her emotions, her lack of emotions to be clear, that her thoughts and actions were more logical than they were emotional. Her parents knew better.

Parked down the street the women walks comfortably down the sidewalk, keys twirling on her finger the entrance to the prestigious school not far now. The area, thankfully, is mostly devoid of people and students, the weekend morning provides little reason to be at the school, providing a perfect opportunity for a breakfast daughter date. The mom was glad she didn’t have to head in on weekends, while yes, some nights might be filled grading papers, it provided opportunities like family dinner times, and of course this.

As she nears closer and closer to the entrance she begins to hear her daughter, a friend maybe? Doesn’t sound like the delightful young lady she brought over that one weekend, despite the… colorful character, she calls a best friend, at least she has someone. A wicked smile crosses the older women’s face, maybe it’s that Lyrimon girl she told Kasumi about and while she wants to tease, she thinks back on meeting her own wife, and the slow burn that was; maybe useless lesbian runs in the family she ponders.

Rounding the corner, thankful her visit was approved, she spots her daughter talking to a girl in a track suit with blue skin. That dutiful daughter of hers waves, and her mother waves back, they decide to meet in the middle.

“Hey oh daughter of mine, is this the infamous Lyrimon I’ve heard so much about” she greets, “..from Kasumi.” She adds with a cough.

“Hey! Leave our sis-yowch!” a pew of pressurized air silences the ne'er do wells situated at the two girl’s feet

“N-no” her daughter blushes out, “This is Fei, she’s a third year here, and has been helping me with my quirk” she introduces. “Fei, this is my mom.”

“Nice to meetcha ma’am!” the girl grins out, shaking the mother’s hand animatedly.

Ozen’s working on her quirk? the older women queries in her head as the two shake, sparing a glance at the two girls sitting on the ground looking worse for wear.

Following the adult’s gaze the third year decides to answer the unasked question.

“Shaving cream bandits, pay them no heed ma’am.” The blue girl informs, as if that didn’t create more questions.

Ozen’s mom doesn’t have a chance to respond as the girl is called out by a voice behind her.

“Fei! I got your new gloves!” comes the voice, the girl running past the Ozen’s mom to the entrance.

Why does that voice sound so familiar.. the women asks herself, the reason why painfully clear to her when she finally sees who it is.

Oh fuck it’s Victoria the realization yells in her mind at the recognition of her sister. She’s so much older wincing at the thought I’ve been gone that long?

Taking the package from the women, the third year decides to introduce them in a fashion similar to the Will Smiths of olde.

“This, is my mom!” she introduces as the lady’s hair flows around like it would be in the wind.

“Dear, do you have to use your quirk for my entrance every time?” the women sighs, as if used to it.

Ignoring the grumbles of how “it wouldn’t be as cool” her sister greets the two with a handshake, oblivious to the relation.

“Wait, do I know you?” the inquisitive gaze of her sister has Ozen’s mom choking on air scrambling for an excuse.

“N-n-no I don’t think we have!” she coughs, looking for an exit.

“O-oh! Look at the time, Ozen we better hurry if we don’t want to be late for breakfast!” the women grabs onto her daughter’s hand, dragging the surprised girl along. “It was nice meeting you!!” she adds before rounding the corner, hand waving violently.

“Huh, that was weird” Victoria lets out in response to the abrupt exit. “Anyways, don’t forget to call and thank grandma for the gloves, you always forget.”

“Yes I’ll call grandma” the third year groans picking the two students up by the collar. “After I get these two trouble makers to the office!”

“We’re sorry senpaii! We were just protecting our sister’s honor!” One shouts.

“Shaving cream assault is a funny way of doing it, now get going.” Fei responds, herding the two back inside. ----------

“I want to start training my quirk” are the first words breaking the mother daughter silence. In a booth sat across from each other, in a quaint café that sat on a corner the two ate in silence till now. Mother with a colorful breakfast crepe, and daughter with a.. grey protein shake.

The mother setting down her utensils finds her daughter aloof, chin in hand staring out the window slurping on tasteless goop. Her daughter was never much of a talker, but ever since they left school her motherly instincts have been going off, is this it?

“Oh? Was training with Fei” Her niece, Ozen’s cousin “helpful?” the mother inquires.

“A little, our quirks are similar enough but..”

“But?” her mother adds, trying to get her daughter to continue.

“I’m behind…” the daughter sighs, taking her head in both hands.

“I’m so behind! And Fei’s a third year, at a different school. She can’t help me forever.” Hands dig into her scalp.

“W-well, we could try the brace again honey” her mother adds, reaching over a sympathetic hand.

“I. hate. That. Brace…” The daughter responds, “Almost as much as I hate myself.” The fingers tighten.

Her mother gasps, this is the first time she’s ever seen this from her stoic daughter. “What?? Honey, what are you saying? When did this start?”

The mother manages to get her daughter to release her scalp, hands laid out on the table as her mother hold them both; the teal hair cascading down to block Ozen’s face.

“The first time..” her daughter whispers

“Say that again?” her mother responds leaning in.

“The first time I put on that thing!” Ozen almost shouts, face puffy with tears as she looks up at her mom.

“It made me realize how, how horrible I am, how horrible I treated others.. treated my sister.” She says with tears.

“I-I don’t want to hurt anybody, I just want to everyone, but I keep doing it, I keep hurting people, even when I put on that damn brace to remind me of the pain I cause others.” The words are rushed, as if to make it before the breakdown.

The older women gasps at the information. She’s.. Self-harming with the brace?

This will not do, her mother concludes, getting up from the booth, much to the surprise of the daughter, face alive with abandonment worry, a worry quickly dashed when her mother scooches in next to her.

“Come here honey, it’s okay I got you.” The mother comforts as she brings her in for a hug. Her daughter is quite tall, but right now as her mother rubs soothing circles on the girl’s back, she looks so small.

“Shh shh, it’s okay I have you.” Her mother coos.

“I-I’ll never catch up, I’ll be like this forever” the girl sobs, recalling her stunted muscle growth.

“We’ll find a way honey, don’t worry, we’ll find something.” Her mother says in an attempt to calm.

“No we won’t” her daughter denies with a dejected sob.

She would give anything/DO anything if it would help her daughter her—that’s not true she cuts off. Her mind first goes to Victoria, before it goes to the others and she sighs which catches her daughter’s attention.

“I think.. I know some people that can help.” She smiles to her daughter, petting her hair. ----------

Ozen’s mom drops her off at the front this time, her daughter looking much like her usual self waves goodbye as the two give simultaneous “I love you”’s.

Driving off she checks the time, watching the red analog numbers flip to eleven. The further you go in the math world, the more you forget at the bottom, so after an embarrassing amount of time, and eventual phone calculator the mother finds herself in an empty parking lot. The women steels herself, chants of “do it for your family” are repeated as she psyches herself up to just press the damn button.

“Here, we, go.” She says pushing the call button.

Ring… Ring… This number has been disconnect--Click

“Ah fuck, it has been a while” she sighs dejectedly. Not one to give up, it’s time to bring out her secret weapon, Google Fu ----------

The sunset is framed spectacularly by the arches of the golden gates but the Hero known simply as “Shield” finds the view second to the one behind him. For when he turns away from the view the lofty penthouse atop his agency provides, his heart if filled with immeasurable warmth.

The hustle and bustle of dining room is chaotic but it’s something their family has done for decades now, the generations of family coming together for a weekly meal; and what a large family it was, his wife and the sword at his side made sure that.

The meal is ready and the large family lively chats as they wait for everyone to find a seat. Here he is just known as Fredrick, Freddybear to the youngins.. and his wife, who is as lively as the day they met as he watches her recount their patrol to one of their grown children. His seat next to hers is the only one unoccupied but he is interrupted by a ring of the phone.

“It’s from Japan” he reads aloud, wondering who could be calling at this hour.

“It’s probably Fei, dear. Looks like they finally remembered” His wife chuckles in the distance.

“Tell her to call back after dinner” the women adds over the loud table, before returning to her previous conversation.

Knowing it is family, the mountain of a man answers the call accordingly.

“Papa Shield here!” his self-proclaimed title earns chuckles from the packed table.

The older man just waits as the line is silent, slowly becoming uncomfortable.

“Hello? Anyone—“

“P-papa?” a familiar voice replies. While familiar, it’s a voice he hasn’t heard in so long, it has him sucking in a breath.

“L-Little Bear?” he responds in a whisper, as if speaking it any louder would spook the caller on the other line.

It’s at that title that the normally rambunctious table goes silent.

“It’s.. Diana… I think we should talk.”

#Ozen fujinuma #taiyuu oct #taiyuu high #lyrimon spellman #mine #oc

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