Twilight shows Sunset a meme. Things get complicated. A Socratic debate about queer representation and anime schoolgirls.
Twilight shows Sunset a meme. Things get complicated.
A Socratic debate between two bisexual girls about queer representation, identity, and anime schoolgirls.
(This fic features pictures as important plot points. If you have a setup that doesn't support pictures, read the second chapter, which is the same, but with image descriptions.)
Sunset didn’t understand space, time, or how one dimension could have humans while another had marshmallow-soft horses.
But she did understand magic. And lazy Friday afternoons spent with Twilight were magic.
Guitar resting on her lap, Sunset laid back against the band room wall and strummed a few strings. A warm June breeze whistled outside — there’d be a thunderstorm soon — and inside, Twilight’s fingertip-to-laptop taps gave her a staccato beat.
Summer break started next week, meaning the two of them would lose their favorite hangout spot. And as fancy as Twilight’s house was, nothing could match the solitude of CHS on Friday afternoon.
With a sigh, Sunset closed her eyes. No cares, no worries...
Twilight giggled.
Sunset didn’t open her eyes. “What’s up?”
“Nothing, nothing,” Twilight said. “Just a dumb anime meme that Wallflower posted.”
“Well” — Sunset sat up now — “I like dumb anime memes.”
“Since when do you like anime anything?” Twilight said with a scoff.
“Always! Y’know, like, the one with the giant rat.”
Twilight stared. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You know!” Sunset said. “It’s got the yellow rat and it yells and kills everyone. We were watching it last month.”
“Are...” Twilight’s upper lip curled, as if Sunset had just sprouted an oozing boil. “Are you talking about Pokémon?”
Sunset snapped and pointed at Twilight. “That’s it! The one with the yellow rat and the twink.”
Twilight frowned hard enough to cut a decade off Sunset’s lifespan. But soon enough she took a calming breath and picked up her laptop. “Fine. But it’s barely anything,” she said, sidling closer to Sunset. “I don’t know if you’ll even get it.”
She pointed the laptop at Sunset, who leaned in to see.
Sunset didn’t know any of these anime schoolgirls, but she still chuckled. “I get it. Yeah, I can’t stand when people get on my case like that.”
A silent moment passed, before rain began to fall outside.
“Like what?” Twilight asked, tilting her head.
“Hm?” Sunset pointed to the meme. “Like the pink and blue-haired girls, annoying the black-haired girl for no reason. Isn’t that the point?”
Twilight pursed her lips, and placed the laptop down between them. “I think we’re interpreting this meme differently.”
Sunset recognized this look growing on Twilight’s face — furrowed brows, lidded eyes, pursed lips. It was Twilight’s debating face, the bane of forensics competitors across the state. Only she could turn this dumb anime schoolgirl picture into a roundtable discussion.
Is this what they do in Anime Club every Wednesday? Is that why people with anime avatars online are always trying to debate me?
But while Twilight’s debating face might have scared off a lesser opponent, it bounced right off Sunset, who’d long since grown immune to that paralyzing gaze.
Instead, Sunset put her guitar to the side, cracked her neck, and smirked. “Alright, then. How are you interpreting it?”
Twilight smiled. Leaning down to her laptop, she enlarged the meme so it took up the whole screen. “Here’s what I’m seeing: Madoka — that’s the pink girl — asks if Homura supports gay rights, and Homura says she’s gay. But an answer like that is just dodging the question. Being gay doesn’t mean you support the same notions of gay rights, and doesn’t automatically imply solidarity. Madoka is opening a line of inquiry that Sayaka — blue girl — will pursue to find out if Homura truly believes in intersectionality and activism.”
Sunset nodded, thinking over Twilight’s answer — then shook her head. “Yeah, no, that’s definitely not what’s happening here.”
“Oh?” Twilight crossed her arms. “Explain it to me then.”
Sunset took the laptop. “Maduca asks if Homora supports gay rights, and Homora says she’s gay, but that’s not enough for them. It’s not because she’s dodging the question, but because the other girls have made ‘gay rights’ into a meme.”
“What? Explain. How are gay rights a meme?”
“No, not gay rights — that phrasing.” Sunset scowled. “C’mon, you’ve seen it! All those memes about ‘So-and-So said gay rights! So-and-So said trans rights!’ They’re funny and all, but some people — especially teens — treat it as a substitute for real activism or analysis.”
Sunset pointed at the black-haired girl. “Homora is gay. She shouldn’t have to repeat some canned line to prove herself, or to be treated like a part of the queer community.”
Twilight stared at the screen and tapped her lips, lost in thought. “I see your point.”
“Thank you,” Sunset said, beaming.
“But I disagree,” Twilight continued. “When you consider how ingrained homophobia is in our society, it’s important to be full-throated with our support. For us, ‘I support gay rights’ might seem like an obvious statement. But for the world at large, it can still be considered radical. This is especially true for young queer folk, like the teens you mention.”
Sunset raised a brow. “Do you really think that just stating your basic support for gay rights does that much?”
“I think it both offers support to fellow queer folk, and helps shift the Overton Window leftward.” Twilight held a hand to her heart. “When our identities are under attack, we need to make it clear that our lives and rights matter.”
“But is it our job as gays to constantly argue for our own humanity?” Sunset asked. “Straight people, cis people don’t have to do that. Why aren’t we allowed to just be?”
Twilight took a long breath. “I think this is one of those cases where theory comes into conflict with practice.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that in theory, yes, we shouldn’t have to argue for our rights. But in practice, we have to, in order to help create a more just world.” Twilight smiled, but with sadness in her eyes. “We owe it to ourselves and others to make it clear that supporting gay rights isn’t optional. It’s required. Even if you’re gay.”
“Sure. But my fear is that we’re gonna fall into the ‘every marginalized person is an activist’ trope.” Sunset put the laptop down again. “Think about the journalist Wesley Lowery. He’s constantly being accused of not being a journalist, but a secret black rights activist by pundits, simply because he’s a black man who reports on the facts of racial violence in America.”
“Why is it a bad thing to be an activist?”
“It’s not a bad thing!” Sunset said, throwing up her arms. “But again, a lot of responsibility comes with that title. When you’re an activist, people think everything you do reflects on everyone like you. It’s not right that from birth, we’re forced into a life of endlessly defending our own existence, even to other queer folk!”
Sunset jabbed a finger at the laptop screen and exclaimed, “What right do these anime girls have to question the gay girl’s identity, simply because she’s tired of fighting?”
A bright light filled the room, followed soon after by the cracking boom of thunder. It made both girls jump.
Smiling sheepishly, Sunset got up. “Ech, sorry for yelling.” She closed the windows, so no rain or wind would get in. “I get passionate about this sort of stuff.”
“It’s fine, so do I,” Twilight said. She looked at the meme again. “But they’re not questioning her identity. They’re testing the waters to see if it’s safe to be themselves around her. For all they know, she could be one of those self-hating gays who thinks that being queer is a birth defect, or that it needs to be prayed away. Or she could be a soldier who ostensibly believes in gay equality, but then flies overseas to kill queer folk in the name of capitalism.”
Twilight shrunk a bit. “She might be gay, but that doesn’t mean she supports gay rights, or that I’d ever trust her to accept me for who I am. Being queer means constantly practicing these little acts of self-preservation. It’s not fair, but it’s how things are.”
Sunset sat back down and nodded. “I agree. But if I meet another queer woman, I’m going to trust her enough to assume that she supports my existence. She doesn’t need to prove it to me to get my respect.”
A smile slinked across Twilight’s face. “You’re a very wonderful person.”
“I try,” Sunset said, puffing out her chest. “And besides, what does saying ‘I support gay rights’ really prove? There are plenty of people who say that, and then go on to be horrendously homophobic or transphobic. Think about all the straight girls who say they love gay men, then treat their friendship like a fashion statement.”
“Or all the fanfiction writers,” Twilight offered, “who fetishize gay men and lesbians, and then claim it’s activism?”
“Exactly. Actions count, not just words. How will just saying you support gay rights help me materially? How will it change policy that denies my right to live?”
“Policy isn’t everything. Vocal support for marginalized people, especially in front of those who disagree, can be key.” Twilight grabbed her backpack and pulled out a large book, the cover of which showed two hands grabbing jail bars. “Michelle Alexander has a great quote about this in her book, The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness. Although she’s talking about a different topic — the issues of white supremacy and the prison-industrial complex bolstered by it — the ideas of freedom from oppression are similar. She writes:
With the benefit of hindsight, surely we can see that piecemeal policy reform or litigation alone would have been a futile approach to dismantling Jim Crow segregation. While those strategies certainly had their place, the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the concomitant cultural shift would never have occurred without the cultivation of a critical political consciousness in the African American community and the widespread, strategic activism that flowed from it. Likewise, the notion that the New Jim Crow can ever be dismantled through traditional litigation and policy-reform strategies that are wholly disconnected from a major social movement seems fundamentally misguided (Alexander 15).
Twilight pointed to the paragraph. “In other words, while policy has its place, what’s even more important is a change in societal beliefs. Without true cultural change, without the grassroots fight for that better future, no material reforms can last.” She let her finger fall to a lower spot on the page. “Alexander goes on to argue,
A new social consensus must be forged ... This new consensus must begin with dialogue, a conversation that fosters a critical consciousness, a key prerequisite to effective social action (15).
“We can start that dialogue,” Twilight said, closing her book. “It’s all part of fighting for a better future, and the end to queer oppression.”
“I don’t disagree,” Sunset said. “But if we really want to help our fellow queer folk, we also need to be generous with our trust. Being constantly on edge to prove ourselves in the queer community can be just as harmful to our mental health as any bigot’s words.”
“Absolutely,” said Twilight, nodding vigorously. “And that’s also why when we do start that dialogue, we need to be sure to include those who are so often excluded from the queer community, like trans, nonbinary, intersex, asexual, and aromantic people.”
Sunset grinned and touched Twilight’s hand. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”
With a grunt, Sunset leaned forward. Wordlessly, Twilight matched her, and they kissed.
Sunset could have stayed like that for hours, arms around Twilight’s back, wrapped up in her warmth. But soon enough, gravity reclaimed her, and she went falling backwards onto her ass.
The two laughed until another thunderclap drowned them out. Twilight stood and helped Sunset onto her feet.
“I promise,” Twilight said, picking up her laptop, “the next dumb anime meme won’t be as contentious.”
“Sure,” Sunset drawled, rolling her eyes. “Even if I make one about the yellow rat and the twink?”
Twilight stiffened up. She took a deep breath, then muttered, “Even then.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” Sunset grabbed her guitar and went to put it in its case. “We should probably get going. We’ve only got an hour until Pinkie’s Pride Party, and the bus is definitely gonna be packed ‘cuz of all the rain.”
The two grabbed their belongings and headed for the door. But before they could leave, Rainbow Dash burst in, holding her cellphone.
“Yo,” she said, shoving her phone screen in their faces. “You have gotta see this meme that Fluttershy just sent me.”
The two squinted to read it.
Rainbow and Sunset burst out laughing, while Twilight blushed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fluttershy sent you that?”
Sunset tried not to choke on her giggles. “Now that’s a quality meme.”
Sunset didn’t understand space, time, or how one dimension could have humans while another had marshmallow-soft horses.
But she did understand magic. And lazy Friday afternoons spent with Twilight were magic.
Guitar resting on her lap, Sunset laid back against the band room wall and strummed a few strings. A warm June breeze whistled outside — there’d be a thunderstorm soon — and inside, Twilight’s fingertip-to-laptop taps gave her a staccato beat.
Summer break started next week, meaning the two of them would lose their favorite hangout spot. And as fancy as Twilight’s house was, nothing could match the solitude of CHS on Friday afternoon.
With a sigh, Sunset closed her eyes. No cares, no worries...
Twilight giggled.
Sunset didn’t open her eyes. “What’s up?”
“Nothing, nothing,” Twilight said. “Just a dumb anime meme that Wallflower posted.”
“Well” — Sunset sat up now — “I like dumb anime memes.”
“Since when do you like anime anything?” Twilight said with a scoff.
“Always! Y’know, like, the one with the giant rat.”
Twilight stared. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You know!” Sunset said. “It’s got the yellow rat and it yells and kills everyone. We were watching it last month.”
“Are...” Twilight’s upper lip curled, as if Sunset had just sprouted an oozing boil. “Are you talking about Pokémon?”
Sunset snapped and pointed at Twilight. “That’s it! The one with the yellow rat and the twink.”
Twilight frowned hard enough to cut a decade off Sunset’s lifespan. But soon enough she took a calming breath and picked up her laptop. “Fine. But it’s barely anything,” she said, sidling closer to Sunset. “I don’t know if you’ll even get it.”
She pointed the laptop at Sunset, who leaned in to see.
What she saw was a three-paneled comic, each panel showing a different anime schoolgirl. In the first panel, a girl with pink hair, looking quite sad, asked, "Homura, do you support gay rights?" In the second panel, a girl with black hair said, "I'm gay." And in the last panel, an angry looking girl with blue hair said, "She's dodging the question."
Sunset didn’t know any of these anime schoolgirls, but she still chuckled. “I get it. Yeah, I can’t stand when people get on my case like that.”
A silent moment passed, before rain began to fall outside.
“Like what?” Twilight asked, tilting her head.
“Hm?” Sunset pointed to the meme. “Like the pink and blue-haired girls, annoying the black-haired girl for no reason. Isn’t that the point?”
Twilight pursed her lips, and placed the laptop down between them. “I think we’re interpreting this meme differently.”
Sunset recognized this look growing on Twilight’s face — furrowed brows, lidded eyes, pursed lips. It was Twilight’s debating face, the bane of forensics competitors across the state. Only she could turn this dumb anime schoolgirl picture into a roundtable discussion.
Is this what they do in Anime Club every Wednesday? Is that why people with anime avatars online are always trying to debate me?
But while Twilight’s debating face might have scared off a lesser opponent, it bounced right off Sunset, who’d long since grown immune to that paralyzing gaze.
Instead, Sunset put her guitar to the side, cracked her neck, and smirked. “Alright, then. How are you interpreting it?”
Twilight smiled. Leaning down to her laptop, she enlarged the meme so it took up the whole screen. “Here’s what I’m seeing: Madoka — that’s the pink girl — asks if Homura supports gay rights, and Homura says she’s gay. But an answer like that is just dodging the question. Being gay doesn’t mean you support the same notions of gay rights, and doesn’t automatically imply solidarity. Madoka is opening a line of inquiry that Sayaka — blue girl — will pursue to find out if Homura truly believes in intersectionality and activism.”
Sunset nodded, thinking over Twilight’s answer — then shook her head. “Yeah, no, that’s definitely not what’s happening here.”
“Oh?” Twilight crossed her arms. “Explain it to me then.”
Sunset took the laptop. “Maduca asks if Homora supports gay rights, and Homora says she’s gay, but that’s not enough for them. It’s not because she’s dodging the question, but because the other girls have made ‘gay rights’ into a meme.”
“What? Explain. How are gay rights a meme?”
“No, not gay rights — that phrasing.” Sunset scowled. “C’mon, you’ve seen it! All those memes about ‘So-and-So said gay rights! So-and-So said trans rights!’ They’re funny and all, but some people — especially teens — treat it as a substitute for real activism or analysis.”
Sunset pointed at the black-haired girl. “Homora is gay. She shouldn’t have to repeat some canned line to prove herself, or to be treated like a part of the queer community.”
Twilight stared at the screen and tapped her lips, lost in thought. “I see your point.”
“Thank you,” Sunset said, beaming.
“But I disagree,” Twilight continued. “When you consider how ingrained homophobia is in our society, it’s important to be full-throated with our support. For us, ‘I support gay rights’ might seem like an obvious statement. But for the world at large, it can still be considered radical. This is especially true for young queer folk, like the teens you mention.”
Sunset raised a brow. “Do you really think that just stating your basic support for gay rights does that much?”
“I think it both offers support to fellow queer folk, and helps shift the Overton Window leftward.” Twilight held a hand to her heart. “When our identities are under attack, we need to make it clear that our lives and rights matter.”
“But is it our job as gays to constantly argue for our own humanity?” Sunset asked. “Straight people, cis people don’t have to do that. Why aren’t we allowed to just be?”
Twilight took a long breath. “I think this is one of those cases where theory comes into conflict with practice.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that in theory, yes, we shouldn’t have to argue for our rights. But in practice, we have to, in order to help create a more just world.” Twilight smiled, but with sadness in her eyes. “We owe it to ourselves and others to make it clear that supporting gay rights isn’t optional. It’s required. Even if you’re gay.”
“Sure. But my fear is that we’re gonna fall into the ‘every marginalized person is an activist’ trope.” Sunset put the laptop down again. “Think about the journalist Wesley Lowery. He’s constantly being accused of not being a journalist, but a secret black rights activist by pundits, simply because he’s a black man who reports on the facts of racial violence in America.”
“Why is it a bad thing to be an activist?”
“It’s not a bad thing!” Sunset said, throwing up her arms. “But again, a lot of responsibility comes with that title. When you’re an activist, people think everything you do reflects on everyone like you. It’s not right that from birth, we’re forced into a life of endlessly defending our own existence, even to other queer folk!”
Sunset jabbed a finger at the laptop screen and exclaimed, “What right do these anime girls have to question the gay girl’s identity, simply because she’s tired of fighting?”
A bright light filled the room, followed soon after by the cracking boom of thunder. It made both girls jump.
Smiling sheepishly, Sunset got up. “Ech, sorry for yelling.” She closed the windows, so no rain or wind would get in. “I get passionate about this sort of stuff.”
“It’s fine, so do I,” Twilight said. She looked at the meme again. “But they’re not questioning her identity. They’re testing the waters to see if it’s safe to be themselves around her. For all they know, she could be one of those self-hating gays who thinks that being queer is a birth defect, or that it needs to be prayed away. Or she could be a soldier who ostensibly believes in gay equality, but then flies overseas to kill queer folk in the name of capitalism.”
Twilight shrunk a bit. “She might be gay, but that doesn’t mean she supports gay rights, or that I’d ever trust her to accept me for who I am. Being queer means constantly practicing these little acts of self-preservation. It’s not fair, but it’s how things are.”
Sunset sat back down and nodded. “I agree. But if I meet another queer woman, I’m going to trust her enough to assume that she supports my existence. She doesn’t need to prove it to me to get my respect.”
A smile slinked across Twilight’s face. “You’re a very wonderful person.”
“I try,” Sunset said, puffing out her chest. “And besides, what does saying ‘I support gay rights’ really prove? There are plenty of people who say that, and then go on to be horrendously homophobic or transphobic. Think about all the straight girls who say they love gay men, then treat their friendship like a fashion statement.”
“Or all the fanfiction writers,” Twilight offered, “who fetishize gay men and lesbians, and then claim it’s activism?”
“Exactly. Actions count, not just words. How will just saying you support gay rights help me materially? How will it change policy that denies my right to live?”
“Policy isn’t everything. Vocal support for marginalized people, especially in front of those who disagree, can be key.” Twilight grabbed her backpack and pulled out a large book, the cover of which showed two hands grabbing jail bars. “Michelle Alexander has a great quote about this in her book, The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness. Although she’s talking about a different topic — the issues of white supremacy and the prison-industrial complex bolstered by it — the ideas of freedom from oppression are similar. She writes:
With the benefit of hindsight, surely we can see that piecemeal policy reform or litigation alone would have been a futile approach to dismantling Jim Crow segregation. While those strategies certainly had their place, the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the concomitant cultural shift would never have occurred without the cultivation of a critical political consciousness in the African American community and the widespread, strategic activism that flowed from it. Likewise, the notion that the New Jim Crow can ever be dismantled through traditional litigation and policy-reform strategies that are wholly disconnected from a major social movement seems fundamentally misguided (Alexander 15).
Twilight pointed to the paragraph. “In other words, while policy has its place, what’s even more important is a change in societal beliefs. Without true cultural change, without the grassroots fight for that better future, no material reforms can last.” She let her finger fall to a lower spot on the page. “Alexander goes on to argue,
A new social consensus must be forged ... This new consensus must begin with dialogue, a conversation that fosters a critical consciousness, a key prerequisite to effective social action (15).
“We can start that dialogue,” Twilight said, closing her book. “It’s all part of fighting for a better future, and the end to queer oppression.”
“I don’t disagree,” Sunset said. “But if we really want to help our fellow queer folk, we also need to be generous with our trust. Being constantly on edge to prove ourselves in the queer community can be just as harmful to our mental health as any bigot’s words.”
“Absolutely,” said Twilight, nodding vigorously. “And that’s also why when we do start that dialogue, we need to be sure to include those who are so often excluded from the queer community, like trans, nonbinary, intersex, asexual, and aromantic people.”
Sunset grinned and touched Twilight’s hand. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”
With a grunt, Sunset leaned forward. Wordlessly, Twilight matched her, and they kissed.
Sunset could have stayed like that for hours, arms around Twilight’s back, wrapped up in her warmth. But soon enough, gravity reclaimed her, and she went falling backwards onto her ass.
The two laughed until another thunderclap drowned them out. Twilight stood and helped Sunset onto her feet.
“I promise,” Twilight said, picking up her laptop, “the next dumb anime meme won’t be as contentious.”
“Sure,” Sunset drawled, rolling her eyes. “Even if I make one about the yellow rat and the twink?”
Twilight stiffened up. She took a deep breath, then muttered, “Even then.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” Sunset grabbed her guitar and went to put it in its case. “We should probably get going. We’ve only got an hour until Pinkie’s Pride Party, and the bus is definitely gonna be packed ‘cuz of all the rain.”
The two grabbed their belongings and headed for the door. But before they could leave, Rainbow Dash burst in, holding her cellphone.
“Yo,” she said, shoving her phone screen in their faces. “You have gotta see this meme that Fluttershy just sent me.”
The two squinted to read it.
The picture showed a grotesque piece of meat, covered in wrinkles and hair, with sad looking eyes. The text above it read, "my clit watching me grab my hitachi magic wand for the 11th time this week."
Rainbow and Sunset burst out laughing, while Twilight blushed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fluttershy sent you that?”
Sunset tried not to choke on her giggles. “Now that’s a quality meme.”
