Caught in a celluloid jam

[number_unlucky]

There was something about Sunday that still felt like a day off. Maybe it was growing up in Puritan country, maybe it was how my dad had liked to go to S&S on Sundays for brunch and talk to me about the Sox, which was so out of his usual MO that every week had seemed like a special event. Even here, where every day was basically the same (except

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[wildlyconflictd]

"Satan was a Lesbian," Pepper slowly read from the cover of the thin dime store novel in her hand. That Satan was quite clearly a bearded man in the lurid painting wasn't helping that argument much. She replaced the novel on the shelf and pulled out another.

"The Woman Aroused," she deadpanned as she peered impassively at the image of a busty redhead attacking a poor, hapless fellow with her long, red claws. "Heaven forbid."

[number_unlucky]

"I know, right?" I said, shifting the copy of Kindred to my left hand and holding onto it for dear life. "Not even classic Queer Studies stuff like I Am A Woman and Beebo Brinker, it's just absolute crap. I almost wish it was Heinlein at this rate."

I pulled out another one, which read Sin Girls in bold letters on the cover, and featured a woman taking off her top.

[wildlyconflictd]

"If warning women away from supposed sin is the objective, they're not doing a very good job of it," Pepper points out, motioning to Sin Girls with the pulp novel still in her hand. "They look to me like they're have a fantastic time."

[number_unlucky]

"Yeah, except the women in this always either end up horribly alone or tragically killing themselves or something, a good ninety percent of the time. Great sex, but Society's Mores win out--can't have your readership thinking this is too fun." I grinned at her, which was pretty easy considering who she looked like--the smile came easily. "Not to grind a political axe at you, it's just not exactly the kind of light reading I'm looking for."

[apoorupbringing]

Chase was nervous. It was Halloween, shit always went bad on Halloween, and he had a mogwai to take care of. It just seemed like a loaded situation- the last thing he wanted, the last thing, was to be responsible for a gremlin horde on Halloween night.

So the mogwai went everywhere with him until November 1st, that was the decision. He kept him in the canvas messenger bag, as per usual, flap closed, and kept him the hell away from water.

Looking for fun indoor activities until what was bound to be a clusterfuck nightmare passed through, he had headed for the rec room. He paused in the doorway when he spotted Remy Hadley, and found himself grinning a little.

"Hey, Princeton."

[number_unlucky]

I looked up, surrounded by old books, and blushed as I saw it was Chase. To be honest, I couldn't tell which of the paperback covers were more embarrassing--the lurid sci-fi ones with odd looking aliens and rocket ships, or the gaudy cheap lesbian pulps that read things like THEIRS WAS A LOVE UNSPOKEN with women in bras underneath.

"Hey yourself, Chase," I said, teasing back.

[apoorupbringing]

"That is.... that is quite the spread you've got there," Chase said, walking over to toe at a book that had two women with really 60s hairstyles in what looked like kind of uncomfortably short yellow shirt dresses lounging tersely at each other in a prison cell.

"...Quite the awesome spread- what is this stuff?"

[number_unlucky]

Oh god, I'd forgotten about teenage boys. Or, you know, just past teenage boys. Laughing with a touch of awkwardness, I said, "Clearly you missed out on some serious lesbian loving in the 60s. And apparently, so did I. I can barely find anything decent to read."

Now that I thought about it, was the bookshelf being snarky about me being bi? It almost had that sort of 'make up your mind' House-esque tone.

[callofkaren]

Though Sam probably had plenty of books of her own, Karen found it fun to skim the bookshelf with any excuse -- Halloween and scary books being perfect. She'd grown tired of thinking up a costume for the day and abandoned the clothes box, choosing something that was a little less frustrating.

She looked over at someone berating the bookshelf, a common enough occurrence that Karen simply looked over at what was bothering her, then let out a surprised laugh when she picked out one of the novels. "Oh my god, stuff like this exists?"

[number_unlucky]

I looked up and gave her a grin, taking a moment to realise that it was Karen Filippelli. I was seriously never going to entirely get over the whole 'people from TV' thing, was I, even though I'd seen her plenty of times before?

Probably not.

"Oh god, yeah," I said. "Didn't you ever do the witch thing as a teenager, anyway? Not real pagan stuff, but the whole targeted New Age market."

[callofkaren]

"Not really," she replied, turning the book over in her hands to read the blurb on the back. It wasn't much better than the cover, and she quickly lost interest. "My teen years involved a few bad dye jobs and an embarrassing rebellious streak that mostly involved dressing in flannel shirts and listening to Nirvana."

She'd never really had anything to rebel against, other than how normal her life had always been.

[number_unlucky]

"That's okay, you probably had more fun," I said. "Insomuch as being a teenager's ever exactly fun for anybody."

I gathered most of the books to the side so no one would trip on them, then got up and offered her a smile. "I'm Remy, by the way. Remy the former teenage witch, though I don't think I cast any spells that were effectual at the time, and I didn't have a talking cat."

[patration]

There are some people who think that a temper is quite an unseemly thing to see in a woman. Back in my time, such an opinion was, in fact, held by the vast majority. After all, a woman who spent such a great deal of time mired in anger would be all the less equipped to cope with the difficulties of raising a family. Even those in the higher echelons, whose families enjoyed the luxury of court and of having maidens to wait on them hand and foot, would still have to look out for the emotional state of those in their family. Or, more often than not, had to quickly learn the nuance of politics, of manipulating those closest to one in a way that would prevent one from slipping out of favor.

Any of these goals were made harder by a temper, a mood that could lick at everything else like fire. Tempers were best saved for wars, the frontlines, and other places where women would never be.

(Or so even I believed, until this island.)

Personally, I found a bit of a temper charming in a woman. Spotting a familiar face, I decided to give things a

[number_unlucky]

I laughed, turning as I recognized the voice, then realized how many books with...undignified...covers were lying in piles around me on the floor. There were way too many to even try to cover them up.

Blushing, I got to my feet, still offering a smile. "Hi Liang. The bookshelf is all about cheesy things, today, I think--wait, do you know what I mean by that? Cheesy?"

I was sure the concept wasn't new, but the word was a fairly recent English idiom.

[patration]

Most of the time, when people pushed forward with a thought, phrase, or other type of word that a person with less than a year's experience with English would be unlikely to encounter, I took it as a compliment. To have others expect more of you than you can return is, after all, nothing but. Proof that others would expect you to be someone greater. That you inspire confidence. But there was also something to be said for the unique type of consideration it took for Remy to double back and ask if I needed the clarification.

I found that I enjoyed that balance.

"No," I answered, frank as I broke into a smile. "I know... easy. Breezy. But cheesy is new." Crouching down next to the books, I glanced up. "May I give you help in picking up the books?"

[number_unlucky]

"Um," I said, looking down at the books, then back up at Liang, who was just as dignified as the last time we'd spoken, and every time that I'd seen him in passing since. It was incredibly attractive, but not entirely suited to stuff like Return to Lesbos. "If you like? They're not exactly the best books, I'm afraid. That's sort of what cheesy means--it means not in good taste, or cliched. Stereotyped, but made for mass consumption. I'm not sure if there was anything like it in your time, maybe like bawdy songs?"