The ribbon exchange scene was so scandalous

This is wonderful, I love every new chapter.

Wow, Kasumi really has it bad. I can't wait for absolutely nothing to come of it!

So, “Sumi-chan,” where exactly did it tickle when “sempai” stripped you of your ribbon?

There's a very common sentiment among the more amateurish parts of the yuri fandom that Class S is an outdated genre driven by historical compromises and editorial restrictions, rendering it unable to express a 'true' lesbianism because of its focus on symbolism and subtlety. This is a typically boorish and rather Western-centric conception of yuri that views it as a genre whose primary function ought to be the simple documentation and recording of the Japanese lesbian community and nothing else- any attempt to take the genre in more artistic directions, to engage in plays of identity, to experiment with the dynamics of girlhood, to explore dark and speculative quirks of behavior, are all viewed as being failures and distractions that do not reflect 'authentic' lesbianism, even if an avowed Japanese lesbian were to be creating the piece. Good yuri, in the eyes of many of these (usually Western) commentators, must therefore always be a publication of the LGBT movement (assumed uncritically to be both a homogeneous global phenomenon and yet also developed enough in the Western nations to let them dictate the correct line on sexuality to other countries)- anything else would simply be a distraction, a cowardly retreat into a subtext assumed inferior to the mythical 'textual' yuri (as if the avowal of lesbian identity made an artistic piece superior in and of itself), or at worst, a parody of true lesbianism written by the ever-present boogeyman of the secretly male yuri author who was simply exploiting lesbianism for profit and fetishes, obsessed with schoolgirls and either their purity or their sex lives (depending on how the work in question approaches sex), as if the exploration of adolescent sexuality was somehow not a recurring and key approach taken by art about queerness in every context. Thus, Class S becomes, within this vulgar realist critical model of yuri, the embodiment of everything that is wrong with the genre, and therefore something for the modern yuri artist to transcend and move beyond.

I make this digressive observation to emphasize how this story is a perfect example of the opposite argument- that Class S, beyond being a genre of extreme accomplishment and importance in the historical context of yuri, is also a genre that remains evergreen and fertile, filled with the potential for new spins on old formulae. Like all great genres, it was formed in a particular sociocultural and historical context that produced a fascinating network of relationships, ideas and symbolisms, but also truly succeeded because it used these dynamics to say something meaningful about love, relationships and life. The Catholic school, the secret codes, the defined yet supple roles, the play of registers and titles, the intermingling aesthetics of private-school opulence and divine immateriality, the invocations of fate and destiny as both binding and anchoring forces- these are elements that can offer an artist both extreme specificity within a uniquely textured setting while also being flexible enough to accommodate virtually any narrative or archetype from the history and traditions of yuri- one may as easily imagine a Class S Yuni as a Class S Touko, or even an alternate world where Miwa or Asumi might reflect upon their experiences in such an institution as shaping their attitudes in adulthood.

Some of the best yuri being written today takes inspiration from Class S's traditions, from A White Rose in Bloom to Yuri Is My Job to Rock is a Lady's Modesty, to the story we're currently discussing. All of them iterate brilliantly upon the ideas of this storied genre, treating its whispering hallways and mysterious groves and glimmering crucifixes and ardent titles not as rigid aspects of a set or costume, but as the suggestions and poetry they were always meant to be, for that is the brilliance of Class S- it offers freedom within structure, expression within a script, identity within tradition, and secret passages within the bodies of ancient institutions. At its best, the tradition has always carried a touch of the camp, a tinge of smirking irony, a mirthful upturn to the call of onee-sama that winds down the path to the cathedral. It has always been charged with rumors and gossip, the storytelling that teenagers so often use to both make sense of the world and mould it, murmuring their fantasies in moonlit rooms, blushing with glee at the love of ghosts. At the heart of Class S is that fertile contradiction- what is the role would you like to play? Who shall you be to become yourself? Which secrets may dwell in these elaborate letters? Where can we secretly meet in this most storied of places?

Class S, in my opinion, is yuri at its best- not a genre that relies on subtext and suggestion merely because of restrictions, but one that actively thrives and revels in them as a means of creating intrigue and stimulating the imagination. Yuri has always been about feelings that break past language, that stretch past space and time, that transform bodies in the throes of their yearning, and there is no genre that expresses this fusion of ritual and romance better than Class S can. By creating a setting where identities are so heavily assigned, it ironically and cleverly opens up a secondary plane of identification beneath, one that is not avowed or declared like the opening of a resume- "I identity as XYZ, here are my pronouns, this is my flag", but one that is necessarily more elusive, strategic, provisional and metamorphic. The openness and clarity of queer labels and identity are, of course, a perfectly valid and valuable part of daily life, and one that has been attained through significant organization and agitation. But art is not and should not be life, and serves as a place to explore precisely those ways of speaking, thinking and being that are uncommon or mysterious in the range of daily affairs.

Class S is transportive, speculative and deeply inviting of invention- a place where artists can thrive precisely because they can break from the conventions of realism and enter a rich space of alterity, roleplaying, storytelling and transformation. It exemplifies the need for a discourse and critical vocabulary of yuri that is not vulgarly realist, ranking stories based on how well they correspond to the popular image of how a lesbian ought to think, act and present in the year of publication (again, an image that many a Western commentator exports wholesale from their country as a globalized expectation). Discourse on yuri should not approach the topic with stereotypes and hard criteria of what a yuri story should be, for it is always the organic play of material circumstance and cultural storytelling tradition that drives the evolution of a genre. Rather, they should absorb and trace the dynamics of the world, understand the history and traditions that shape the texture and tactics of the story, and speculate on what the author may be trying to convey about a character, a setting or an idea. Yuri must therefore be discussed not strictly in the language of sciences, labels or categories, but in the supple and shifting language of art itself, in symbols and tones and affect. That is, after all, what Class S teaches us, and what this story so beautifully expresses- there's a million ways to be an onee-sama, and the best sisters are not born to the blood, but play for the love of the role.

Cool story. 2025 is the year to kabedon your tiny power bottom sempai.

me, reading this completely sfw series: wait a second this is some real pervert stuff?

@Temp incredible comment, I'm really touched by the ease with which you've showed the place of this story within the wider yuri genre, effortlessly weaving in historical context and international fandom culture.

I really need to read some of Yoshiya Nobuko's works.

last edited at Aug 5, 2025 12:20PM

There's a very common sentiment among the more amateurish parts of the yuri fandom that Class S is an outdated genre driven by historical compromises and editorial restrictions, rendering it unable to express a 'true' lesbianism because of its focus on symbolism and subtlety. ...

"Damned lesbians! They ruined yuri!"

This is an interesting analysis of why Class S as a genre still has something to offer, but I strongly disagree with its dismissiveness toward queer identity, the desire to see queerness represented in art, and indeed the idea you seem to have that no art can include "boorish" and "vulgar" modern LGBTQ+ identity and still qualify as art.

It frankly comes across as shadowing the tired old argument that yuri is supposed to be "pure" in a way that putting actual queer identity into somehow sullies, as if someone bringing up pronouns or the dreaded "L" word will break the spell and turn precious subtle beauty into something dirty and common.

Your insinuation that this is also a difference between Western and Japanese sensibilities is troubling. The LGBTQ+ movement exists in Japan too, and they are just as much a part of the conversations about identity and awareness. They have the same flags and the same labels. And Japanese lesbians are just as interested in exploring their own experiences through art - including yuri.

One needs only look at the works of creators like Amano Shinunta, Morinaga Milk, Usui Shio, Takemiya Jin, and so on to see that there's plenty of "art" to be seen in the modern Japanese woman's experiences as a lesbian. Give me some time, and I could come up with many more. This idea that Japanese lesbians aren't part of the queer community is...quaint at best, condescending and Orientalist at worst.

And what's funny is, I'd actually argue that part of what makes this particular work great is how it's an examination of Class S tropes, not just slavishly repeating them. It's about the meeting of Class S with the messiness of actual adolescent emotions and existence. Kasumi and Haruyo try to consciously take on these roles, but it's mixed with real-world issues and longing. They're Class S Onee-sama and Sumi-chan, but they're also two young queer women who clearly have feelings for each other that don't map perfectly onto that roadmap. And them navigating those different dynamics is what I feel like the story is about. It's a celebration of Class S, but also of young love in the messiness of the real world.

last edited at Aug 5, 2025 12:23PM

Is @Temp for real or not? Like should we ignore it or can we reply to that?

@Gellydog I think you're being uncharitable to Temp. They never said that art cannot contain explicit queer labels, just that it need not. They're arguing against dismissing art wholesale on the basis of which labels it contains (or doesn't contain).

I think what this work does show is how Class S tropes can be valuable in providing a structure for young girls to understand themselves and their desires. (Yuri is my Job also does this.) Kasumi in her actual life is burdened by a number of worries and responsibilities that she is frankly too young for (needs to keep her grades high for her scholarship, class rep, her frequent bouts of self-hatred, and of course her friend's suicide she's still unable to face directly). By playing the role of the imouto, she is able to forget all of that and be more selfish, demanding, and childish. Haruyo by contrast has a lack of power in her everyday life, treated like a child by both her family and friends -- "Sounds serious. For Paruyo? Physically impossible.' The oneesama roleplay lets her take charge of herself and her surroundings, giving her the power and autonomy she doesn't have in the "real world." It's not a coincidence that Kasumi has a younger brother and Haruyo has an older brother.

HOLY JESUS
DAMN THIS IS GAY

@Temp, I like your essay about this series and the contemporary Class S genre a lot, but I don't think you need to set up your insightful analytical points by means of shadowboxing with those unnamed "vulgar realist" yuri critics, which comes off as close to straw manning those arguments. I do know the kind of critical arguments you're talking about, and I may even know the names of a couple of the people who tend to make them, but you do such a good job of talking about what the Class S genre is and can be that invoking those "bad guy" critics ends up distracting from your core ideas.

I usually prefer not to engage in arguments on forums, but since I made the original post with an intention to point out certain chauvinistic and reductive tendencies in the discourse about yuri that's found in the West, I find it useful to address a perfect example of this behavior that another user of the forum has been kind enough to provide me with.

"Damned lesbians! They ruined yuri!"

You begin by creating a strawman that has no relevance to anything I posted. I imagine the disingenuity of this opening is plainly obvious, but it reflects a tendency to create false binaries that recurs throughout your argument, and is furthermore a symptom of precisely the crude approach to thinking about yuri that I have criticized.

This is an interesting analysis of why Class S as a genre still has something to offer, but I strongly disagree with its dismissiveness toward queer identity, the desire to see queerness represented in art

Here, you argue that I am being dismissive towards queer identity, which is strange, given that the crux of my post was a request to expand the ways in which we think about queerness in art and adopt a less dogmatic approach.

and indeed the idea you seem to have that no art can include "boorish" and "vulgar" modern LGBTQ+ identity and still qualify as art.

Nowhere was this idea expressed. It is an invention, and not a particularly charming one at that. I have critiqued a way of discussing, speaking about and evaluating art, not creating it. Nowhere have I levied insults at artists who prefer to operate in a more realistic mode and make explicit references to queer identity in the LGBT format. I have simply pointed out a bias I notice where artists who do adopt this mode are seen as being inherently superior and more mature compared to artists who embark on more ambiguous, subtextual or experimental approaches to queerness, which is born of an inability to actually consider what these more symbolically charged and dramatically structured formats might offer to artists compared to realism. You haven't discussed this at all, because to you, art seems to be less a question of technique, approach and objectives than the site of a crusade to be waged over your (rather restrictive) definitions of queerness. I request that readers widen the scope of what we consider queer, to treat queer as a mode of reading, argumentation and interpretation, which is the method adopted by many queer historians and literary critics. The fact that you interpret a call for diversification as an argument for exclusion is baffling, and might place you closer to the camp of the conservatives rather than the liberals- though the distance between them is certainly not too great.

It frankly comes across as shadowing the tired old argument that yuri is supposed to be "pure" in a way that putting actual queer identity into somehow sullies, as if someone bringing up pronouns or the dreaded "L" word will break the spell and turn precious subtle beauty into something dirty and common.

In my first paragraph, I critique the idea of 'pure' yuri and how it is used as a cudgel to attack authors who experiment with sexuality or identity in unconventional ways, as they face accusations of deviance, fetishization and exploitation. You've managed to miss this. In my final paragraph, I point out how the labels employed today by the LGBT movement are useful in a daily context for clarifying one's identifications and preferences, but need not be seen as a necessity in art, where the interpretation and fluidity of identification and preferences necessarily furnishes the pleasures of interpretation and discussion, as well as the space in which authors can express themselves in ways difficult to achieve in daily life. You've also missed this.

When a person acknowledges the history of the queer movement as having made admirable gains in the realm of expression and identity, uses tools and techniques of reading employed by queer academics, and references continually the notion that queerness must fundamentally operate as an open and liberatory framework of thought and life rather than ossifying into a checklist or an obligation, which reflects the stagnation of the movement, it is quite frankly absurd to be accused of seeing queer identity as foul. I'm not sure how it's possible for someone to miss a point this hard, although I once again suspect that it stems from the same tendency I have been referencing throughout my argument- a certain belligerently intolerant concept of LGBT 'rights' that interprets any critique of the movement or those associated with it as a total rejection of queerness. This is rather ironic, given that the movement began in colonial and settler-colonial nations built on genocide, was marked by frequent betrayals of more vulnerable groups such as trans women, has frequently been invoked by conservatives of all strands ranging from TERFS to respectability gays, and is also used to fuel homonationalist defenses of imperialist policy across the world.

If I truly wished to embark on a critique of the LGBT movement, I would have a great many places to begin at beyond just its attitudes towards non-Western art. However, that was not my intention. My original post, just to drive it in, was explicitly a critique of certain attitudes towards reading that tend to commonly come from Western readers who don't want to engage with the cultural specificity of forms such as Class S even as they eagerly consume Asian media, always complaining that it would be better if it featured themes and aesthetics more familiar to their Western sensibilities and contexts.

Your insinuation that this is also a difference between Western and Japanese sensibilities is troubling. The LGBTQ+ movement exists in Japan too, and they are just as much a part of the conversations about identity and awareness. They have the same flags and the same labels. And Japanese lesbians are just as interested in exploring their own experiences through art - including yuri.

One needs only look at the works of creators like Amano Shinunta, Morinaga Milk, Usui Shio, Takemiya Jin, and so on to see that there's plenty of "art" to be seen in the modern Japanese woman's experiences as a lesbian. Give me some time, and I could come up with many more.

I'm not sure why the rather basic idea that "Western and Japanese sensibilities are different" is framed as an 'insinuation', as if it were a conspiracy theory rather than the natural result of the different histories and material conditions of these regions. The uniqueness and freshness of Japanese and other non-Western media is frequently cited by Westerners as a reason for their interest in them, and the same obviously applies to Asian readers interested in the West. The fact that you are 'troubled' by this is strange. Are you also troubled by the existence of world maps, time zones, and different languages?

Furthermore, at no point have I implied that there is no LGBTQ+ movement in Japan- you are the one who's brought them in as a rhetorical construct to defend against what you perceive as an attack on queerness. If you glanced through my post history, you'll see that I frequently praise authors like Akiyama Haru who operate in a more realistic mode, and indeed consider Amano Shuninta to be my favorite yuri author. Once again, you've created an argument out of thin air to present a caricature of the kind of person you delude yourself as campaigning against, possibly because it makes you feel quite righteous. I have always and regularly lavished effusive praise on authors who employ realism and comment on the daily lives of lesbians, and tried to give an equal amount of appreciation to authors who employ more traditionally fixed genre conventions to tell interesting stories. However, I've observed that the same grace is not given to both types of authors in the broader Western discourse around yuri, precisely because it sees the genre as having an obligation to document certain types of gender presentations and narratives deemed more 'real' than others, rather than the authenticity of yuri being necessarily contained in the very act of operating within the tradition- a tradition that has always been led by Japanese lesbians, including the pioneers of Class S!

Rather than engaging with this criticism, you've simply proven my point by attacking me and framing me as a malicious actor. You refuse to see the people you're arguing with as people, because it makes it harder to create binaries of good and evil, inclusive and exclusive, traditional and modern. Applied to art, this obsession with binarism produces incoherent readings. Applied to forum discussions, it produces ridiculous arguments, such as the following:

This idea that Japanese lesbians aren't part of the queer community is...quaint at best, condescending and Orientalist at worst.

What does one say to this? If making an argument for considering a culture and genre on its own terms is Orientalist, then you would probably brand the majority of decolonial and anti-imperialist movements as Orientalist for their rejection of Western influence. I don't understand how you can accuse me of propounding the idea that Japanese lesbians are not part of the queer community when I literally, in my first paragraph, criticize how readers of yuri who demand that it fit into restrictive aesthetics of realist queerness will frequently end up casting suspicion and contempt upon Japanese lesbians in the genre who take more experimental and ambiguous approaches, refusing to appreciate their contributions to queer identity. I think its pretty nasty to throw around such allegations in response to a post about appreciating and engaging with other cultures. If your defense of the 'queer community' involves making baseless accusations about people whenever they don't fit into your neat little idea of a family, then I shudder to think of the fate of the people in your queer community. Clearly, their dignity and right to be taken seriously is contingent upon their willingness to never bring up the ways in which the Western gaze can be chauvinist when dealing with art from the cultures it has historically mocked and dehumanized. If the Palestinian academic who devised Orientalism pointed out that there are many cultures that had their own notions and concepts of alternative sexuality long before queerness or the LGBT movement was a thing in the West, you'd probably brand him Orientalist as well. Black is white, good is evil, inclusion is exclusion- you've moved past building reductive binaries and are now in the process of enthusiastically inverting them.

And what's funny is, I'd actually argue that part of what makes this particular work great is how it's an examination of Class S tropes, not just slavishly repeating them. It's about the meeting of Class S with the messiness of actual adolescent emotions and existence. Kasumi and Haruyo try to consciously take on these roles, but it's mixed with real-world issues and longing. They're Class S Onee-sama and Sumi-chan, but they're also two young queer women who clearly have feelings for each other that don't map perfectly onto that roadmap. And them navigating those different dynamics is what I feel like the story is about. It's a celebration of Class S, but also of young love in the messiness of the real world.

I really like how you follow up the accusation of Orientalism with a paragraph that casually implies that there are works in Japan that 'slavishly' imitate the tropes of Class S- not a problematic framing in the slightest! Where is the theoretical Class S work that somehow manages to avoid engaging with "the messiness of actual adolescent emotions and existence?" Why do you have to praise this manga by using a "not like the other girls" approach and shitting on the tradition rather than appreciating how this work iterates on it? Remove the concern trolling you've been doing for the past few paragraphs and this is the true face of our great defender of queerness- a ridiculous argument that somehow a portion of the Class S works written in the past were not really queer and therefore not good (slavish, you say, in an Asian-honoring way), but this one is because it's actually queer- a criteria defined by messiness? Emotionality? People not quite fitting into their roles and trying to find new ones that better fit them? Literally the exact things that Class S has always been known for, and is quite often affectionately parodied for? What a farcical conclusion this is! You might as well say that all schoolgirl yuri was awful before Bloom Into You, because Bloom Into You discussed how two people's personal ideas of love might not be the same. You know, the sentiment that is literally constantly expressed in dozens, if not hundreds of yuri works in the decade before Bloom Into You was released.

It would be so very simple and easy to acknowledge that art is not created in a vacuum, that it is informed by various traditions and precursors, and that the traditions of a genre in an author's native language and culture may be particularly influential, and therefore a reader from outside this culture ought to engage respectfully with the history of the genre and its influences on the works written in the present. But I guess that its hardly fitting with your shallow notion of 'queerness' to respect the influence of the past and look sympathetically upon the people who attempted to work from within the circumstances of their times to tell interesting stories. Everything has to be either 'subversive' or 'realistic' in order for you to derive a sense of self-importance from reading it. You can't criticize or praise an author on their own merits- you have to present them as either the symptom or the slayer of an evil and rotten tradition. Quite frankly, this is a terrible way to engage with art, particularly from cultures outside your own. But I suppose an appreciation of history is impossible for someone who seemingly struggles to understand complete sentences. If you can't grasp something as elementary as what I'm saying (respect and engage with the genre), I don't think you should be making sweeping statements about art.

Ultimately, I guess this demonstrates the old adage that criticizing chauvinism is a surefire way to summon a chauvinist who'll indignantly reply to you while proving every point you've made.

last edited at Aug 5, 2025 2:58PM by

By creating a setting where identities are so heavily assigned, it ironically and cleverly opens up a secondary plane of identification beneath, one that is not avowed or declared like the opening of a resume- "I identity as XYZ, here are my pronouns, this is my flag", but one that is necessarily more elusive, strategic, provisional and metamorphic. The openness and clarity of queer labels and identity are, of course, a perfectly valid and valuable part of daily life, and one that has been attained through significant organization and agitation. But art is not and should not be life, and serves as a place to explore precisely those ways of speaking, thinking and being that are uncommon or mysterious in the range of daily affairs.

While I do think your comment was mostly about propping up Class S, the language and tone of it does feel dismissive of non-Class S work. These sentences in particular feel particularly heavy handed as far as elevating Class S by bringing down works that are more obvious about identity. It feels unnecessary to talk about how other works are worse to try to make this one be better.

Wow, that ribbon-switching scene...

And the entire chapter somehow had a lot of Akebi vibes for me.

After seeing the posts above me, I'm more curious about how long the posters took to write them, and whether they wrote them themselves or with the help of AI.

After seeing the posts above me, I'm more curious about how long the posters took to write them, and whether they wrote them themselves or with the help of AI.

Temp is definitely not using AI, that's just how grad students talk. I mean this both positively and negatively lol.

ChatGPT outputs college essays at a D- level and Temp is working at at least a B+

There's a very common sentiment among the more amateurish parts of the yuri fandom that Class S is an outdated genre driven by historical compromises and editorial restrictions, rendering it unable to express a 'true' lesbianism because of its focus on symbolism and subtlety. This is a typically boorish and rather Western-centric conception of yuri that views it as a genre whose primary function ought to be the simple documentation and recording of the Japanese lesbian community and nothing else- any attempt to take the genre in more artistic directions, to engage in plays of identity, to experiment with the dynamics of girlhood, to explore dark and speculative quirks of behavior, are all viewed as being failures and distractions that do not reflect 'authentic' lesbianism, even if an avowed Japanese lesbian were to be creating the piece. Good yuri, in the eyes of many of these (usually Western) commentators, must therefore always be a publication of the LGBT movement (assumed uncritically to be both a homogeneous global phenomenon and yet also developed enough in the Western nations to let them dictate the correct line on sexuality to other countries)- anything else would simply be a distraction, a cowardly retreat into a subtext assumed inferior to the mythical 'textual' yuri (as if the avowal of lesbian identity made an artistic piece superior in and of itself), or at worst, a parody of true lesbianism written by the ever-present boogeyman of the secretly male yuri author who was simply exploiting lesbianism for profit and fetishes, obsessed with schoolgirls and either their purity or their sex lives (depending on how the work in question approaches sex), as if the exploration of adolescent sexuality was somehow not a recurring and key approach taken by art about queerness in every context. Thus, Class S becomes, within this vulgar realist critical model of yuri, the embodiment of everything that is wrong with the genre, and therefore something for the modern yuri artist to transcend and move beyond.

My God! Somebody thinks very highly of their self.

My God! Somebody thinks very highly of their self.

Doesn't everyone?

@Temp - I think it's funny that you accuse me of creating a strawman, and then spend a few thousand words repeatedly putting words into my mouth and likening me to some sinister group of Western lesbians who are trying to "police" queerness, and then acting like you're brilliant for trashing your shadow-puppet foe. Someone said you're a grad student, and you certainly talk like it.

You're the one who brought up the LGBTQ+ community and queer identity, not me. I just pushed back against what I perceived to be problematic language that was unnecessarily included in your otherwise decent analysis of Class S yuri. You deliberately took shots at groups of queer people that you clearly feel aggrieved about. Maybe you have a point! I don't really know, or care.

And your response wasn't to explain yourself or acknowledge that maybe you expressed your ideas in way that could come across badly- you just went straight into insulting me and outright implying that somehow I'm queerphobic because I had the gall to call you out. And also imperialist? I guess?

But I'm not some debate bro in one of your classes that will just sit here and take your shit. It's clear that rather than have an actual discussion, you just want to write an essay and rely on your eloquence to seem like you're not just being petty and rude. So I'm just gonna say, we probably shouldn't spam this comment section with what's clearly just going to be pointless back-and-forth. This work is too good to ruin it with this kind of pointless B.S.

still have a couple gripes about the layouts (the use of space in the non-spread pages is a little off sometimes, moreso in the earlier chapters) but all the other aspects of the work are hitting like crazy
also echoing others in saying humongous ups to the TL work... really exquisite stuff

My God! Somebody thinks very highly of their self.

Doesn't everyone?

I certainly don't. Sometimes I wish I did. But definitely not to that extent. Lol

Everytime they meet I feel like their roles are reverse lol. That ribbon scene looks quite lewd