#There is a post i made that will explain everything

[nachobsns]

Hello - I was impressed and extremely relieved by what you wrote in the post about the cult mentality of the Left RE Israel and accusations of genocide. You mentioned that you bought into the mindset until recently. If it's all right for me to ask, what was it that helped you break out of it? (Please feel free to delete/ignore if you'd rather not answer!)

thank you!! and no worries about asking— i think i put something in my pinned post about how people are welcome to send asks about this stuff, although my story isn’t super interesting. i fell down the typical online rabbithole, a couple weeks after october 7; i knew what had happened, at least vaguely, but the posts trickling onto my dash were all about the (undeniably tragic) loss of life in gaza, with little to no acknowledgment of the hamas atrocities that had started the war, so my narrative was pretty one-sided from the beginning. it just continued to snowball as the months went on and people became more radicalized, calling into question the reality of the 10/7 attacks and the humanity of all israelis. i never went all the way down the pipeline to full-on endorsing hamas or justifying their attacks, at least on a personal level, thank god, but i would reblog other people’s posts referring to hamas as a “resistance movement” and calls to boycott starbucks and mcdonald’s and condemnation of the “zionist media” etc etc etc. what pulled me out of it wasn’t any one thing— if someone had directly called me on my flawed logic and antisemitic biases while i was in this mindset, i doubt it would have done much, just reinforced my belief that i was on the “right side of history” and zionists were aggressors who couldn’t be reasoned with. it was mostly just passive observance and a slow exposure to other perspectives. i’m pretty sure the first post that led me to question my thinking was an ask on jewish-vents, which popped up on my dash in like, late july. this led me down another rabbithole, first scouring every single post on jewish-vents, then moving on to more popular jewish blogs that i had seen on “zionist blocklists” (applesauce42069, xclowniex, and spacelazarwolf were probably some of the blogs that influenced me the most, though i told myself i was just hate-scrolling at first, lol). i felt incredibly guilty seeing all the harm the movement i was a part of had caused to random jews and israelis just trying to live their lives and i realized how it went against everything i believed about how minority groups should be treated. from there, the aspect of actually undoing my thinking and changing my behavior for the better still took several weeks. denial of jewish indigenity to the levant in the face of tantamount archeological and cultural evidence was the first to go, as well as any ambiguity in my feelings about hamas. after that, it’s mostly been a slow process of redefining the idf’s actions from a “genocide” to a “war.” i still believe that what’s happening in gaza is unconscionable and horrific, and that too many innocent civilians have died, but i also understand how difficult it is to fight against a terrorist group that systematically embeds itself in civilian populations, and that the ratio of militant to civilian deaths is incredibly low compared to most urban warfare. i quietly deleted my old blog in early august— if i had directly engaged in harassment against jews, i likely would have kept it to make amends to the harmed parties and put a face to my actions, but as was, i had just contributed to the larger atmosphere of antisemitism on this site, and i felt uncomfortable knowing that i had a blog full of sentiments that no longer matched my values and beliefs. i decided i would be better if i took my endorsement out of the equation entirely, because when you’re looking through the notes of a post, it obviously doesn’t matter if someone who’s reblogged it no longer agrees with what was said— their notes still count as tacit approval, and i did not want approval of this “activism” attached to my online presence. i still have unwanted kneejerk reactions that crop up sometimes, particularly around the fundraiser posts from people “in gaza”; even though i know logically that they have all the markers of scams, there is still a part of me that really wants to believe i could help.

[norrisainz33]

the call || platonic grid & gr63

☆ summary: y/n y/l/n gets a call up to race for alpine with 6 races left in the 2024 season and she’s got something to prove.

☆ pairing: platonic!grid x crush!george russell x rookie!female!reader

☆ fc & warnings: no fc. some hate comments and poor grammar on my end

☆ a/n: i was inspired by franco and liam getting called up to race for the remainder of the season and here we are. no hate to este bestie, just pretending dw. this is not supposed to be accurate to exactly how things have been playing out. smau mixed with writing!!

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

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f1: 🚨 breaking: y/n y/l/n will be racing under the number 95 for alpine for the remainder of the 2024 season alongside pierre gasly. y/n’s first race will be the united states grand prix. this is the first time since 1992 that a woman has raced in a grand prix format - this will be a historic weekend.

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user1: this is the best thing to ever happen to me you don’t understand

pierregasly: ready to attack the rest of the season with you ynuser!!

ynuser: here’s to a strong finish 💪🏻

alpinef1team: we can’t wait to have our girl on track!

user12: they really think a woman is going to be any better than what they had??? please….

user1: oh you are miserable. get out of here

georgerussell63: epic! ynuser i am so proud of you

ynuser: 🤍 see you in austin

user2: i can’t believe im witnessing a woman f1 driver in my life time. i am crying real tears of joy

landonorris: from our karting days to f1. you are amazing ynuser! looking forward to being on track with you

ynuser: so glad to be racing with you again lando 🤍

user3: this is monumental

user6: we got a woman in f1 before gta6

✿

you sat in silence staring down at the paperwork in front of you. everyone had long since left returning to their duties, allowing you to process what you had just been told. “it’s really happening,” you whispered feeling tears welling in your eyes. you were about to become an f1 driver - a real life f1 driver!! and no, not just a reserve driver who did nothing but the sim all day every day. your shoulders sagged as you blew out a sigh. “it was all worth it,” you thought back to the years of blood, sweat and tears put into racing — from leaving the comfort of your childhood home to go karting in europe, to watching your parents give up everything to make sure your dreams came true, to finding yourself in f1 academy where you won the championship, to fighting for a chance to race in f2 and becoming the only woman to finish in the points - you had given everything to this sport and you were finally getting your chance.

you picked up your phone and dialed your best friend. “y/n? hi! did you have your meeting yet?!”

“i’m going to drive the rest of the season,” you said softly.

“WHAT?!” your best friend practically screamed into the other end of the phone.

“i’m taking the second alpine seat!!! im going to be starting in austin.” the tears of happiness started falling now.

“oh my god y/n/n!!!! YOU DID IT BABY YOU DID IT!” you could hear your best friend jumping up and down in excitement.

“i did it.”

✿

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user1: i can't explain to you how excited i am to see you on track this weekend y/n

pierregasly: jealous you got the media duties with the horses and not the american football team like i did.....

ynuser: HAHA idk why they didnt send us together

pierregasly: they knew our joint slay would be too much to handle

user7: as a young woman in a male dominated field... thank you for representing us. i love you and i am so proud of you

yourbff: my flight lands in exactly 1 hour and i am shaking with excitement

ynuser: if you think you're shaking with excitement you should see me... just got word im in the pre race press conference with george and max v......... pray for me girl

yourbff: okok we knew this was going to happen. of course they'll want to talk to you!! you're the new face on the grid

ynuser: is it bad to admit im afraid?

yourbff: admitting you’re afraid just means you’re human y/n. you're allowed to feel

ynuser: idk what i'd do with out you

yourbff: you'll never have to know! now go get ready!! i'll be there just in enough time to make the conference start.

yourbff: p.s your media day fit absolutely ate that dress and the cowgirl hat was lethal. f1 should be thanking you for being such a baddie

georgerussell63: howdy ms y/n

ynuser: howdy georgie --- see you at the press conference 🙂‍↔️

georgerussell63: looking forward to it

landonorris: NEIGHHHH

ynuser: lando?

landonorris: sorry was pretending to be one of those horses so you'd pay attention to me

ynuser: hahahahaha you muppet. ive missed you

landonorris: i missed you too y/n/n! believe it or not i miss fighting it out on track with you too. ready to smoke ya just like i did in our karting days

ynuser: i mean you are in a mclaren and have a lot of practice so id certainly hope you were faster than me

landonorris: well when you put it like that its not as fun.......

user9: bought an alpine hat and am bedazzling a shirt with your name on it as we speak

✿

the alpine pr team had wasted no time sitting you down as soon as you got to austin. they ran through what to expect from your media duties, how to respond to any and all questions that might be thrown your way and how to save face if needed but somehow as you sat down on the iconic white couch and looked out at the crowd of reporters forming in front of you, you felt all of that training start to fail you. the nerves were taking over as george and max took their spots to your right. you were thankful when the british driver gave you a reassuring smile and a slight nod letting you know it was ok.

"good afternoon and welcome to the 2024 united states grand prix!" the interviewer beamed at the camera before turning his attention to the three of you. "today we are joined by max verstappen, george russell and formula 1's newest driver, y/n y/l/n."

the interviewer started by asking max about the championship and how he was feeling about lando continuing to close the gap. you used that time to steady your breathing, knowing a question was headed your way at any moment. "y/n, first of all, i want to say congratulations!" the interviewer grinned and you smiled back. "you are coming into this season with only 6 races left and a rather tall order to get up to speed quickly for some points and fight for a seat on the grid in 2025. how are you feeling about it all?"

you sighed, relieved at an easy first question, "thank you! i'm trying to take it all in stride. it's definitely a tall order because these guys have had 19 races to get a feel for their cars, work with their teams, and solidify their standings… i'm going to have exactly one free practice to learn everything before heading into sprint qualifying and i think that puts me a little bit on the back foot. though, i am more confident than ever that i can pull out some points and finish this season strong for alpine."

the interviewer nodded along intently as you spoke, "do you think being the first female in formula 1 since 1992 also puts you a bit on the back foot?"

this. this was the type of question you were dreading. you knew what it was like to be questioned about your skills purely because you were a woman, it had been happening throughout your entire life but that didn't mean it still didn't get to you. you picked your mic back up but before you could say anything into it, george was already speaking, "i don't think thats a fair question to ask. her being a woman has nothing to do with her racing, let us not forget that she is here for a reason. y/n has an incredibly impressive resume and i'd be happy to recite it for you if you need the reminder."

*george fcking russell. the man that you are* you thought as a smirk formed on your face. "thank you george," you said managing to keep your voice steady as you continued, "i don't think being a woman puts me on the back foot at all. it's 2024 - i think we're past the point of asking questions like this. I may be the first woman in way too long to race in a grand prix but i certainly will not be the last." you put the microphone down, daring the interviewer to say something in return but instead he turned his attention back to max and kept it there for the remainder of the session which you weren't mad about at all.

✿

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ynuser: p9 baby!!!!!! i scored two points!!!! cota - thank you for the love and for an incredible first weekend in formula 1. i will never forget you 🤍

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user9: best weekend of my life!!!! first gp i’ve ever been to and i got to meet you at the fan zone!! i couldn’t have asked for more

alpinef1team: try not to say goat challenge failed

ynuser: 🤍🩷

user10: i sobbed watching you cross the line

pierregasly: points points points points

ynuser: you next bestie!!

pierregasly: we’re going to both score big this triple header i just know it

user13: i love how these two have become instant friends. i hope alpine doesn’t split my family up in abu dhabi

user44: history - we’re watching you make history

francisca.cgomes: i don’t think you understand how attached i am to you now y/n

ynuser: and i don’t think you understand how much i love you kika. legally you have to come to all the rest of the races please and thank you

francisca.cgomes: for you? done!

pierregasly: um? hello?

ynuser: im sorry p.. look away

yourbff: i have no words. i love you more than life itself

ynuser: i love you - thank you for being there

landonorris: statement MADE

ynuser: 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

georgerussell63: i’m so proud of you im about to openly weep

ynuser: we can openly weep together

carlossainz55: congrats y/n!

ynuser: thank you carlos 🤍

francolapinto: viva y/n!

ynuser: viva franco!

lewishamilton: 🤍🤍

ynuser: 🩷🩷

user15: noticing so many of the drivers here supporting her is everything

user4: and the fact that so many of them are praising her efforts and talking so highly of her in interviews 🥹

user15: everyone loves her (except for the rbr duo, did you see her and checo having words after that race?)

user4: omg yeah grandpa was pissed but honestly he’s probably just worried she’s going to take his seat

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user9: pretty, talented, smart … you’re the whole package

landonorris: hell yeah it does. the car will be here in about an hour! meet us in the lobby?

ynuser: yes!! assuming we shouldn’t come down too early since we run the risk of people being down there?

landonorris: yeah, no more than 5 mins before

user10: hottest person on the grid no doubt

georgerussell63: blimey i’m excited

ynuser: me too! i need a drink after this weekend

georgerussell63: you better get used to it y/n! this is your life now

ynuser: and i’m glad it is 🤍

user14: i think i have a crush on you

oscarpiastri: hi

ynuser: hi oscar!! did lando send you the details for tonight?

oscarpiastri: yes he did!

pierregasly: me and kika are ready to GO

ynuser: me and y/bff are too! let’s get this party started

user11: keep this momentum going into mexico y/n!!

user4: we needed a chronically online it girl in this sport so bad im so glad you’re here

✿

george poured you another glass of champagne as you giggled, "i should really be sick of champagne by now but i don't know that i ever will be."

"well thats good y/n/n! you're going to be drinking a lot more of it soon enough," george said loud enough that you could hear him over the music. the club was packed with more people than you would've expected for sunday evening especially a sunday evening in texas but here you were in a packed club chugging champagne with old and new friends. oscar, lily, carlos, rebecca, lando, george, pierre, kika, franco, charles and alex all came out with you and y/bff and you were honestly a bit shocked by the turn out. though you should've known that lando and george were not going to let you celebrate by yourself.

you had grown up with the two of them on the karting track and you even managed to be in f2 in the same year george won the championship. they meant a lot to you -- you looked up to them since the start so to have their unwavering support now that you made it to f1 meant more than you could express. none of this was going to be easy but being surrounded by a strong support system would make it a lot less painful.

you smiled up at george as he downed the last bit of his cocktail, intently watching as the last little bit dripped from the side of his mouth. you took a big gulp reminding yourself of the room of people around you. that was another thing that was around since your karting days... your massive crush on george. while you both had seen other people between now and then, there was no doubt that it was still alive and well. but as far as that was concerned, it was a bit of a one sided crush. it's not that george had ever told you outright that he wasn't interested, you just never had the guts to tell him and he only ever made one move and has been ignoring that it happened since. the closest you two ever got to something more than friends was the night after he won the f2 championship. you two were inseparable during that season so when he asked you to come with him back to his hotel room after his massive party, you didn't think twice about it. you two flopped down onto the bed with your takeaway meal fresh in front of you and the tv turned on to some animated movie you couldn't remember the name of. george was sitting close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of his body from where he gently was resting against yours. "y/n/n," he whispered causing you to look up at him, "i love you." you smiled, having heard him say this many times.. he was your best friend after all. "I love you too!" you responded and before you could process what happened, his lips were on yours. and unfortunately for you, thats about where that ended. george realized what he was doing and absolutely panicked, begged you to forgive him and to not talk about it again so thats what you did. but on nights like this one, where he was looking fine as ever... it was hard not to long for him.

"helllooooooo earth to y/n!!!" lando almost shouted pulling you out of your thoughts.

"yes, yes! hi!" you rolled your eyes taking the drink out of his hand.

the rest of the night passed in a blur of celebrations, laughs and champagne. things were looking up and you couldn't be more excited for what the future held for you. you had done it. your dream had come true.

✿

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alpinef1team: 1 down. 2 to go. mexico city, here we come!

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: omg if you made it this far... thank you for reading!!! likes and reblogs are massively appreciated. i'm thinking of making this a series with y/n racing in the last few races of the season. if you liked this, let me know so i can judge if this will get a part 2!! much love 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[wethotcrazy]

CAN'T CONTROL IT

pairing: Franco Colapinto x Fem! Driver! Reader

word count: 739

just something a little short and sweet for franco colapinto. also i think the can't control their mouth and can't control their face would suit him well?! idk bro

The F1 social media team had a new favorite hobby: catching YN's reactions to everything Franco Colapinto did.

It started during pre-season testing in Bahrain. Franco, fresh in his Williams racing suit, had spun on his installation lap – a rookie mistake that had the paddock chuckling. The TV director, whether by instinct or divine intervention, cut immediately to YN in the Alpine garage.

Her expression was poetry in motion: eyes rolling skyward, lips pressed together to suppress a smile, followed by a head shake that somehow conveyed both "I can't believe this" and "that's my idiot" in one fluid movement.

The clip went viral within hours.

"Have you seen this?" Franco bounded into the Alpine hospitality area, phone already extended. "'Every Time YN Dies Inside Watching Franco Colapinto: Testing Edition' – they even put sad violin music over your faces!"

YN didn't need to look. She'd already seen the compilation – a masterfully edited collection of her various reactions to Franco's testing adventures. Her personal favorite was the slow-motion zoom on her face when he'd described his first F1 car as "spicy."

"I'm starting to think you do these things on purpose," she muttered, but her treacherous face was already softening at his enthusiasm.

"Maybe I just like seeing your reactions," he winked, dropping into the seat beside her. "Remember in F3 when you said your face wasn't that expressive?"

"Remember in F2 when you said you'd learned to think before speaking?"

His laugh echoed through the hospitality area. "Some things never change, no?"

The Australian GP brought new material for the ever-growing collection of "YN Can't Control Her Face" content. As Alpine's reserve driver, she was in the garage when Franco scored his first F1 points – a remarkable P8 in a chaotic race.

His radio message was pure, unfiltered Franco: "P8! P8! YN, are you watching? Better than that time in F2 when you said I'd never score points because I was too busy talking!"

The cameras found her instantly: pride blooming across her features before she could school them into professional neutrality.

"Every time they show your face, the comments explode," Esteban teased later. "I think you've got more screen time than some of the actual drivers."

YN groaned. "Don't remind me. Someone made a TikTok trend out of my different 'Franco Reactions.'"

"At least you're not 'Can't Control His Mouth' Colapinto," Pierre chimed in. "Did you hear him in the press pen? He spent five minutes explaining how you once bet him he couldn't qualify top 10 without talking on team radio."

"Did he mention he lost that bet?"

"No, but your face when they asked you about it said everything."

Monaco was where things reached new heights. Franco, running in P6 during practice, had been providing commentary that somehow always circled back to YN:

"YN's watching, no? Tell her this is how you take the hairpin properly—" Franco spoke through team radio confidently before scraping through the hairpin.  "Ah. Maybe not like that."

The camera cuts to YN's perfect face-palm, followed by a head shake that somehow conveyed both "I knew it" and "why am I even surprised" in one swift motion.

The resulting clip went viral on Tiktok and became F1's most-watched social media post of the weekend.

"You know what I think?" Franco asked one evening, as they shared takeaway in the quiet of the paddock after everyone else had left. The cameras were finally off, but YN's face was as expressive as ever in the dim light.

"That's a dangerous start to any conversation with you."

He grinned, nudging her shoulder. "I think you like that I can't control my mouth."

"And what makes you say that?" she asked, trying and failing to keep her expression neutral.

"Because every time I talk about you, you make this face – like you're trying not to smile but can't help it. It's my favorite one."

"I do not have a special face for when you talk about me."

"Si, you do! You're making it right now!"

She threw a napkin at him, but her smile – soft and genuine and completely uncontrolled – gave her away.

The next day, during the drivers' briefing, Alex caught Franco staring at YN with an expression that mirrored all of hers – soft and fond and entirely unguarded.

The photo went viral with the caption: "Looks like neither of them can control anything anymore 💕"

[hacash]

The argument demonstrated here against voting for Kamala has a couple of major, and I do mean major, logical falldowns.

Number one: saying 'I'm not advocating for Trump, I'm advocating that the people running a genocide lose an election' overlooks the crucial fact that only one of two people will be running the USA in January: Trump, or Kamala. That is just a fact. The fact that I routinely see multiple people from outside the US posting about this topic because they see US citizens either ignoring or being unaware of this fact is, frankly, a lot.

So I feel like at this point if you claim anything else could happen, you are being wilfully ignorant of the facts about how your country is run. Either Kamala or Trump is going to be running one of the most powerful countries in the world, and as a US citizen it is your job to decide which one that it. If you advocate for the Democrats to lose the election, you are advocating for the Republicans and Trump to win. It's that simple.

Number Two: 'You made it through four years of Trump and you can do it again'. Interesting point there! I feel like the woman who was killed at the Charlottesville far-right rally, the thousands who died during Trump's mishandling of COVID, any and all vulnerable immigrants in the US, the women put at risk by having abortions and certain pregnancy complications due to Roe vs Wade being dismantled, the queer kids in places like Florida vulnerable to homophobia and transphobia, any number of people put at risk by Trump slashing food safety regulations left right and centre, the Ukrainians who will be even more exposed to Russian imperialist attacks once Trump withdraws support, everyone whose lives were in danger when a fucking right-wing mob stormed the Capitol, not to mention everyone around the fucking world who may just, just be a little unsettled by Trump's deep desire to start dropping nuclear bombs on anyone who pisses him off might want a word with you there.

And that's certainly not to mention the Palestinians you claim to be supporting, who will most certainly suffer when Trump ramps up his support of Netanyahu to eleven (more on that later).

Look, I'm not saying that if the Democrats win peace will reign and everything will be perfect, but come the fuck on. I don't know if the people making this argument are literally so young that you weren't really politically conscious during Trump's presidency, but please don't insult those of us who did have to sit through the whole shitshow by saying crap like this. I don't care how sick you are of hearing it, elections mean choosing the least shitty option. If you still need it explained to you that Harris is less shitty than Trump, that is a you problem.

Number Three: 'some words and hype around what people think Trump will do' - No. I'm sorry, just no. We went through this the last time Trump became president. Trump has already shown us who he is. This is not a matter of our imaginations working overtime, this is an understanding of what will happen: based both on Trump's previous words and what he has already done in the past. Showing even more support to Netanyahu, encouraging and aiding him in his work, is not something 'people think Trump will do', it's something Trump will do. For all that you may dislike the Democrats (and I think @qqueenofhades had some good posts about Harris/Biden at least making attempts to push for peace in the room) it is bizarre at this point to pretend like Trump won't be significantly worse when it comes to supporting Netanyahu's actions.

This is a man who recognised Jerusalem as the undivided capital of Israel (leading to widespread condemnation around the world, including the UN, Arab League, and EU), said that Israel should keep on building settlements in the West Bank without stopping, and, once again, has been pals with Netanyahu since the very beginning. This is a man who thinks the answer to any problem is to send in the nukes and the gunboats, and who has made his disdain for Muslim lives painfully fucking clear. (I doubt very much that his respect for Jewish lives is that much better, but that's another post). If you don't realise that having Trump in charge of US foreign policy is only going to dramatically worsen the situation for Palestine, that is, once again, just wilful ignorance at this point.

-

“Trump would be the worst,” Asmaa Nimilaat, 50, said from a hospital where thousands of people are sheltering in Deir el-Balah, an area in central Gaza. “But any candidate that becomes president will not support Palestinians.” - from the Al Jazeera article further up the post.

I feel like people wilfully focus on the second half of the quote when they should be paying attention to the first. Yes: as things stand, neither political party is doing wonders for Palestine, and that sucks. But Trump would be the worse. For America and for Palestine, and for the rest of the world. There is literally only two futures open to us now: one where Trump wins, and one where Harris wins. And Trump would be the worst. At this point, trying to keep some sort of moral superiority in excusing not doing everything you can to keep Trump out by claiming 'we don't know he'll be bad/the Democrats still suck/I don't want complicity in American imperialism' is, quite frankly, ignorant and inward-looking at this point. You have an actual chance not only to benefit yourselves (by voting in a leader who is at least halfway decent) but to make life even a little bit better for people in numerous countries around the world (who will now get to deal with the less awful version of America dominating the world stage), and the notion that some people might actively choose not to is, frankly, staggering to me.

[madfantom]

Full animatic And so, part 2 of my comments, let's start.

◁Part 1

In the last part, and here, the order in which the children got to William is shown, and I will explain why it is not the order of the murders Here is a MEMO with missing children to make it easier to navigate, since I drew very simplistically.

I mean, when watching usually fnaf animations, I myself had the question "who the fuck are all these kids?" and, either in another animation I understood, or I did not understand at all, or the designs were so simplified that you can guess (I mean a child in all red or with a pirate armband is foxy, Freddy is all brown, etc.) So I just made outlines of their hair and costumes and that's it

It's just a little complaint here, don't pay attention, I'll just say it once, and that's because I didn't think that someone would write the same thing all the time when writing AU And one more thing. Chick's name is SOFIA. Please guys, I know that Suzy from fnaf 6 exists, okay? She's there, hell, she's even in the animation next to Cassidy. I just shifted her from being a chick to another one, not removed. And she also has an interesting role and a different design logic, I just don't have time to do everything. In fact, I even have a reason why Sofia exists and I wrote a very long text post about it, but I haven't finished drawing sketches there, so you won't see it yet. It's just that I'm starting to get a little bit hung up by the same type of comments from Pinterest, although to get rid of this, I write in big letters everywhere that it's AU

Let's go back to the animatic

I have displayed the methods of killing, which will then be reflected in the appearance of the ghosts. In fact, I took the idea from my old horror zine Fnaf art when I was thinking about how the children died there to make their appearance more creepy. Some of the ideas remained, and some were redesigned, as well as some designs

Sofia was placed in a ventilation unit. William caught her and left her there suffocating in the off ventilation , after a light strangulation, suffocating in the off ventilation. She didn't actually die, but she was the first (And I refer to this also in a custom night with the phrase "I was the first, I have seen everything!") And now imagine how the room smelled of chemicals after cleaning it from all kinds of oils and other liquids necessary for mechanisms that are very difficult to wipe off. While ventilation did not work and the girl was locked in a narrow place after she was strangled, forced to watch through the slots for the children who were after her That's why Sofia's ghost makes such a quiet clucking sound, as she coughs as if she's still in the ventilation. She won't die of suffocation, nah, in this comic she's still alive and William can cut her throat.

About the rest it is more obvious, well, not counting the pictures on the Background.

Jeremy was electrocuted, so his ghost hair is pulled up as if by an electric shock. He also has charred lips and eyelid skin and no eyebrows, and his hands have torn and charred stripes from just the same clamp. He looks like the most crippled of the three

Fritz couldn't stand the blows from blunt and sharp objects and in the end they attached a mask to his face with a nail gun or something like that and set it on fire quite a bit. Well, just a little bit. His background is directly related to the comic, which Redraw at the beginning, and now I continue. I'm still doing it, but I need a lot of time for it

Gabriella was basically cut while they wrapped one of those cables around his neck that are forever hanging on the walls in fnaf and pulled out his eye after death

[weaselandfriends]

The Making Of: When I Win the World Ends

(For my previous Making Of post, see The Making Of: Cleveland Quixotic.)

I. 1999

It was the year of the cubicle movie. It was the year of Fight Club, of Office Space, of Being John Malkovich, of Three Kings, of The Matrix, and of American Beauty. It was the year of suburban malaise, of eternal sunshine, of ceaseless normality. A year of United States hegemony; a year whose chief terror was that THIS WAS IT.

Before the millennium turned and the towers fell, there was an initial challenge to this order, a completely inconsequential one made consequential by a newly minted 24/7 news media machine running out of noise to fill dead air now that people were sick to bursting of the Clinton impeachment. This challenge came not through war, revolution, or violence, but through entertainment. Children's entertainment.

And I was a child. Unaware of any cultural context, I knew only one thing: I loved Pokémon. I really, really loved Pokémon.

I owned Red Version, Blue Version, Yellow Version, Pokémon Pinball, Pokémon Stadium, Pokémon Snap, Hey You Pikachu, a Pokémon Tetris sort of puzzle game, even the Pokémon TCG game for Gameboy. I had ten to fifteen strategy guides for the games, an encyclopedia of the 151 Pokémon, a choose your own adventure book, an I Spy-style book. I had Pokémon figurines, Pokémon plushies, toy Poké Balls, toy Pokédexes. I had Pokémon stamps and Pokémon stickers and a deck of Pokémon cards. Not trading cards, just a standard 52-card deck with Pokémon pictures on it. Of course I also had the trading cards. A complete set of the first three runs, plus a special Mew card you could get from I dunno Toys R Us or something as part of some promotion. I had a guide for the card game that explained which cards were good or bad even though I didn't even play the card game. I had a Pokémon Tamagotchi and Pokémon pencils and Pokémon erasers and Ash Ketchum's hat and I dressed up as Ash Ketchum for Halloween. Of course I watched every episode of the anime, and in notebooks I drew doodles of existing Pokémon and came up with names for new Pokémon. My father had died that year.

My father was a sports fanatic. Traditional sports. He, too, collected. Sports memorabilia, baseball cards, figures of famous stars. When I was an infant, he drove me on a cross country road trip to Lambeau Field in Green Bay, Wisconsin, where I became a part owner of the Green Bay Packers. He had always wanted me to grow up and pursue professional sports. When I was born, the doctor apparently said to start looking for football colleges, a quote he saved in a scrapbook of baby photos. He had played sports himself, in college; he was a baseball catcher, until a hitter accidentally struck him in the head with a full force swing.

Almost everything I personally remember about him involves him dying. He was sick for a long time, and I remember hospitals and hospital beds and strange smells and gauze. And then one day my mother told me he died.

He was a charismatic man, very social and very popular. He had many friends and a lot of family, all of whom had constantly been around our house. Once he was gone, they stopped coming around. Then it was just me and my mother, who was not a fanatic for anything, except maybe her job as an elementary school teacher, which consumed her time as she assiduously prepared lesson plans and graded tests until late at night. When my father died, she got into some argument with his side of the family, the details of which I still don't fully understand, and afterward they no longer spoke. Her own family lived far away, out-of-state, seen only at Christmas. The house became quiet.

And I… played… Pokémon.

II. The Electric Tale of Pikachu

Toshihiro Ono was a mangaka primarily known for shotacon and futanari hentai. His credits such as Innyou Megami and Anal Justice made him a no-brainer pick for the officially licensed Pokémon manga, Electric Tale of Pikachu, as it too would feature a 10-year-old boy as the protagonist.

This manga would be the foundation for my conception of what Pokémon was, narratively. Though I also had the Pokémon Adventures manga that ran concurrently and which has by now long outlasted it, Electric Tale left a significantly deeper imprint on my memory.

In summary, Electric Tale is a retelling of the first two seasons of the anime. Ash Ketchum is the main character, he's accompanied by Misty and later Brock, his rival is Gary, and Team Rocket harangues him.

What sets Electric Tale apart is its tone, which is far more adult than Adventures and the anime. Obviously, part of this comes from the author's primary area of expertise being hentai. Even in the censored English version, there is a sense of sexual playfulness in how every single female character is an older woman who likes to tease Ash about his romantic interests.

But there are other elements that creep in unrelated to sex, due to the perspective of someone only used to speaking to adults who suddenly has to speak to children. Ono doesn't really get the childish fantasy of leaving at 10 being normal in society, so he introduces an element where Ash can only get a one year deferment from school and will have to return unless he hits it big. Team Rocket are former competitive hopefuls who flamed out and then, with no education or work experience to speak of, had no choice but to turn to crime. The Pokémon are depicted more realistically, often eschewing the toyetic mascot elements of their designs.

And the landscapes are often wistful, even apocalyptic in their presentation:

This more sedate, mature, realistic depiction of Pokémon became what I wanted Pokémon to be, what I projected onto an original Red and Blue version that left everything open to interpretation, and what would increasingly frustrate me with the series as it deviated more toward bombastic villain groups with goofy destroy-the-world plots. (Which was what put me off Pokémon Adventures.)

Amid all this, one panel stuck with me in particular. One panel I would think about ever since I first saw it as a child, that would turn around in my head and keep coming back. That panel would eventually—over two decades later—become the basis for When I Win the World Ends, the seed from which an entire story grew:

III. The Unkillable Demon King

But in the interim, the seed remained dormant. 1999 fell away. I grew up. I played later Pokémon games and increasingly lost interest by around Gen 4 and 5. Then I went to college.

That's when I started playing League of Legends.

I was something of a psychopath in college. I operated on a strict schedule and did not deviate. Wake up, read 50 pages of classic literature, write 2,000 words, go to classes, study, and then by about four in the afternoon all my obligations were done and it was League of Legends until midnight.

I wasn't actually interested in the League of Legends esports scene in its infancy. In 2012, I was actually invited to attend its World Championship in Los Angeles and refused. (When I received this invitation, I had just finished reading Homestuck for the first time, and was caught in a month-long haze in which I could do little but bask within what I considered the greatest artistic achievement I'd seen in my life. It was this month that inspired Modern Cannibals.) I only liked playing the game and watching Dunkey videos.

It wasn't until the next year, when a girl I was interested in recommended I watch, that I tuned in to my first professional League of Legends game, at the 2013 World Championship. It was there that I got to watch this new, hyped, upcoming Korean player who had apparently taken the pro scene by storm that season. That player was Faker.

It has seemingly become essential to the narrative of any sport that there is "the man who always wins." American football has Tom Brady, and the moment Brady retired, he was replaced by Patrick Mahomes. Basketball has LeBron James, picking up the mantle from Michael Jordan. It's as if someone being "the best" validates the skill-based promise of the sport, the fundamental top-down fairness of its premise, the idea that the person who wins is the best and deserved it. Faker would become the backbone of League of Legends esports and his ascendance correlated to that of the sport itself, from its humble roots at small-scale tournaments in places like Jönköping, Sweden, to max capacity arenas in the biggest cities in the world.

It's surprising, though, how the legend of Faker had already begun even before he won his first World Championship. League of Legends was designed as a clone of Defense of the Ancients (DotA), a popular mod for Warcraft III that emphasized competitive play. In its infancy, the competitive scene was mostly dominated by players who had migrated from DotA to League. They were older, winning thanks to a fundamental conceptual understanding of the game that was superior to everyone else, and frankly not very good in the aggregate. As League of Legends esports exploded in popularity from 2013 to 2015, these old pros would get filtered out swiftly, with even the biggest and most popular names retiring after only a couple of years in the scene.

Even once the new generation of League-grown talent ascended, though, careers were nasty, brutish, and short. The best players only remained on top for a season, as game patches dramatically changed viable strategies. Internationally the sport was dominated by Koreans, with the Korean regional league sometimes being seen as more difficult to win than the World Championship, where Koreans often breezed through uncompetitive Chinese, European, and North American squads.

This possibly affected the demographics of the professional scene. South Korea has mandatory military service, and leaving the pro scene to join the military was basically the end of a Korean player's career. This meant that it was rare to see a Korean player older than 25. Retiring in your early 20s was and remains common. Korean organizations, which had an infrastructural leg up on other regions due to the popularity of StarCraft 2 esports in the country, became adept at scouting promising players at 15 or 16, building them into top level competitive pros, wringing them dry for a few seasons with brutal training regimens, and spitting them out.

Faker was the exception. Though he had been discovered young by SK Telecom, a major Korean telecommunications company that did esports on the side, and gone through the training regimen, he refused to be spit out. He simply didn't stop. He won in 2013, then with a completely new four-man squad around him won again in 2015 and 2016 before narrowly losing the 2017 finals in a nail biter. Given League of Legends esports had only existed since 2011, he basically accounted for half of the championships up until that point. Nobody else, except for his teammates, had won more than once. And it was like it was known he would be this juggernaut the instant he manifested ex nihilo. Like it was known, even in 2013, that he would always win.

Then, Faker stopped winning.

By 2017, League of Legends esports was a titan. Venture capital firms, seeing the millions of eyeballs, thought that this was the next NBA in its infancy, and decided to get in on the ground floor. Multiple millions of dollars were pumped into the scene as even mediocre players in weak regions like North America pulled seven-digit salaries. In China, where League of Legends had become the national pastime, the nation's richest oligarchs ran teams for fun and vanity, outbidding Korean organizations for top Korean players in pursuit of a trophy that had gone to Korea every year since 2013. Riot, the studio developing the game, pumped tons of money into creating a professional sports product, with skilled announcers, dedicated arenas for regional leagues, live performances by musicians like Imagine Dragons and Lil Nas X, and all the other bells and whistles one might expect from a program watched on ESPN.

In this milieu, it seemed like Faker had finally reached his limit. He was still good, but not the best. Even as an individual, while everyone still considered him the "greatest of all time," he was considered outmatched by newer pros like Chovy and ShowMaker. 2018, 2019, 2020, and 2021 passed with no championships. In 2022, on a team of mostly rookies, he reached the world finals, but was ultimately beaten. Korea's stranglehold over the sport had been shaken by China, which had finally strung together some championships. People wondered if Faker would retire, although he had managed to avoid mandatory military service by representing Korea in the Olympics-esque Asian Games. He'd dealt with wrist injuries and his level of play dropped year over year. He just didn't seem to be that good anymore, potentially holding back his team of talented young players rather than leading them to victory.

Then, in 2023—

And in 2024—

In the end, never count out Touchdown Tom. 11 years of professional play, 5 world championships.

From this longwinded explanation, you might have realized that after watching that game in 2013, I became a League of Legends esports fanatic, fulfilling the prophecy set before me by my father though perhaps in not the way he would have expected.

And the things I become a fanatic about, I want to write a story about.

IV. Modern Cannibals

There's a deleted scene in Modern Cannibals, as Maximillion is driving Z. and her friends through the Utah desert. He starts to talk about Pokémon.

"I bring it up because my university thesis was about Pokemon in particular how Pokemon has basically trained an entire generation of children to think in a completely different way than preceding generations my generation for instance our fad was Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles now I don't know how much you know about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles but from an educational standpoint we're talking absolute bankrupt complete and utter goose egg but Pokemon now Pokemon you see it's more like there's some substance to it you know that refrain Gotta Catch Em All right?" "..." "Well to most parents it looks like a marketing gimmick you make one hundred fifty-one characters and structure a game around collecting them the merchandising potential is astronomical kids buy one hundred fifty-one trading cards stickers coloring books figurines uh collectable lunchable toys I'm sure you've got some yourself."

He continues:

"But really you look at the game itself before the big toy explosion the game itself the focus is placed less on the collection and more on the catalogue you're given a blank encyclopedia to fill and you fill it by capturing one hundred fifty-one Pokemon but the goal is to create a complete database of each and every one and this is what I argue is the educational core of the Pokemon series." His hands left the wheel to conceive of his idea in the cool air of the car, which remained steady on its ever-forward path. "Our modern era is no longer one of singular isolated knowledge it is one of the catalogue the database which is most clearly personified in the advent of the internet because now all knowledge can be at the fingertips of any one human being all that is needed is someone to go and put the catalogue together and presto whiz bang it's there think about it Z. when you catch a bunch of Pokemon where do you store them?" Z. didn't need to think long to remember the game's mechanics. "In the PC." "Exactly now isn't that odd consider it in real life terms you have real life creatures made assumedly of flesh and bone and yet you store them in a computer how does that make sense you'd expect a farm or a holding pen but no it's the computer and that too prepares the budding portion of the millennial generation to become cognizant of the linkage between the computer the encyclopedia and the database structure of knowledge in a new era." "So," said Z. "So you're saying Pokemon taught kids how to think in the digital age?"

There's also a deleted character in Modern Cannibals. Well, mostly deleted—he still shows up, unnamed, in a couple of pages. He is Cole Coulter, Z.'s older brother, a popular League of Legends streamer. Before I deleted him, his role was to accompany Mrs. Roddlevan and Frederick in an attempt to bring Z. back home. He had POV scenes that gave insight into the weirdness of his cotravelers, but ultimately, I decided he didn't add anything to the story and removed him almost entirely.

Even then, though, I was already considering the future of Cole Coulter as the protagonist of a story about League of Legends esports. Playing under the ID MadKing, he would be a North American professional top laner, once known for his aggressive duelist style but recently forced into playing boring tanks as the esports metagame became more sophisticated and tactics-based.

The story would be simple, something I envisioned as a "sports story" only about esports instead of regular sports. It would start with Cole's team being relegated from the league, only for Cole to get a last chance signing to a new team with two promising Korean imports. One import, the mid laner, would be a charismatic and eccentric player in the mold of Doinb/Ganked By Mom/Huhi, while the other, an AD carry, would be introverted and pissy and elitist, in the mold of Piglet. The team would initially struggle, cultures would clash, then a mid-season replacement to sign a psychopathic Tyler1/Tarzaned style streamer as jungler would revitalize the team, put them on a major run, and get them to the World Championship. Though they would eventually fall after a miracle run, Cole would get a moment to truly shine on the biggest stage when he won a pivotal game by aggressive split pushing rather than tank play.

Thematically, the story would be about two things. First, a counterpoint to the idea of American exceptionalism, featuring a league where Americans are particularly bad compared to Korean or Chinese players. Second, an exploration of what it means to be exceptional at all. Cole would be an all-around mediocre person. Middling at school, at (real) sports, at the various popularity contests of being a teenager. League of Legends, this niche sub-sport, is the one thing he truly excelled at, the one place where he was good, better than 99.9 percent of all players, and yet even within that statistical greatness he wound up, ultimately, in a professional scene where he was once again mediocre, relegated to "tank duty," to facilitating other players to carry.

What does it mean to be the best? How can someone be so, so good, only to reach a level where they were still nothing special? Is there any way to win if you're not "the man who always wins"?

I remembered that panel from Electric Tale of Pikachu. The last people filtered before the final champion. It's certainly no walk in the zoo!

This idea was pretty detailed for a story I never wound up writing, something I mostly blame on the years 2018 and 2019, when a lot of bad things happened to me and in retrospect I consider it a minor miracle I managed to finish Chicago at all. As a human being, I would be decimated for the next three years, and so a lot of stories I might have written in that time never came to fruition.

Meanwhile, League of Legends esports reached a peak, then the venture capital bubble burst as investors realized there was no monetization scheme in place for any interested party except Riot Games. Money hemorrhaged out, Riot shifted resources to Valorant, and a sport that had been overinflated based on projected exponential growth in perpetuity fell back down to earth.

Also, Players came out.

Players was a 2022 mockumentary about a fictional League of Legends team competing in the North American league. Conceptually, it was doing a lot of what I had planned for my story: following a single team on a rags-to-riches run, focusing on the interpersonal drama of the team members, asking questions about greatness and its pursuit. It's a pretty good show if you're familiar with League of Legends esports at all, with a lot of on-the-ground fidelity that gives it an authentic feel, which is exactly what I had been hoping to use my esports fanaticism to accomplish. It completely took the wind out of my sails; it was like my idea had already been done.

So by 2022, the idea of a League of Legends esports story was dead. But there was still a drive to create something with that spirit, that would delve into those themes.

What remained after all these years of sifting the sieve, letting sand slip through, was that one panel from the manga. The number of people pursuing greatness slowly filtering until only one remained. And if I wasn't going to pursue that idea through League of Legends, maybe I could pursue it through another vehicle. Maybe the vehicle through which the idea had originally been exposed to me. Pokémon. It all came back to Pokémon.

V. Everything Evolving Into Crabs

I knew immediately that if I were to write a Pokémon fic, it would be a tournament arc. This was the natural evolution of my esports story idea. Also, if I were to write Pokémon, I wanted it to be a story about utopia, immersed within Pokémon's near-future ideal world, where everything is clean and healthy, where society is neat and ordered.

This idea caused me to remember the novel Eyeless in Gaza by Aldous Huxley, which I had read a few years back. A mostly autobiographical bildungsroman written on the precipice of World War II, the novel ends with the young protagonist on a journey to Central America, where he meets an idealistic doctor who believes sport to be a proper substitution for war. He tells the story of two tribes locked in internecine conflict through generations, able to replace that violence with soccer matches.

And wasn't that what the world of Pokémon was, a utopia revolving around neutralizing weapons of war by using them for competitive sport?

This tournament, I envisioned, would not simply be about deciding who was best, but an ideological battle for the future of the Pokémon world. To that end, I imagined a war between an entrenched trainer class, who competed as philosopher-warriors, intense individuals with deep connections to their Pokémon, and an upstart commercialization that sought to replace the ideological underpinnings that made their society so safe and prosperous with economic accumulation. It was from this kernel that the character who would become Aracely Sosa arose: charismatic, appealing, human-empathic, and propped up by a support staff who did all the hard work of teambuilding for her.

I imagined the story having an ensemble cast, focusing on nearly every competitor equally, with the Aracely character not having any especial focus until her improbable rise to the top. I imagined a final round where she faced off against "the man who always wins," and though she would lose to him, she would seem to have won the ideological battle, altering the course of society as major corporations scrambled to employ her formula for success at a much grander scale. The story would end with this realization of the earth-shattering importance behind her run, only for Aracely to sink in disappointment. Because in the end, all she really wanted was to win.

The more I thought about it, though, the less I liked the idea of an ensemble cast. The ensemble cast element of Chicago hadn't gone over very well (though I like it), and I figured it would wind up inflating the length of the story considerably. I was coming to the end of Cleveland Quixotic, after all, and once more wanted to write something smaller, tighter, and denser.

So I oriented my thinking to instead have the story revolve around Aracely and one major rival, to give an interpersonal mirror to the ideological war being waged. Thus, Toril came about as an antithesis to everything I had imagined Aracely to be: gruff, antisocial, independent. Their rivalry would culminate in a semifinals battle, before Aracely went on to fight "the man who always wins" in the finals.

I forget exactly when the gender theme came into the equation, but it evolved as an outgrowth of (once again) my competitive League of Legends expertise, where women are essentially nonexistent despite there seemingly being no biological blocks against them. This dovetailed nicely with Pokémon, a world where women seemingly could be powerful competitors, but where—in the anime at least—none ever are. For instance, look at this chart of every major tournament in the anime:

Every known winner is male. Every known finalist and semifinalist is male. Only a handful of female characters have reached the quarterfinals. What possible in-universe justification could there be for that?

This question was actually far more prominent in early planning and drafting than it wound up being in the final work. Initially, I had Aracely's personal motivation revolve around a drive to be the first female trainer to win; this would increase the ideological conflict between her and Toril, who attempted to ignore that she was female altogether. Over time, this theme would see diminished importance in face of the last piece of the thematic puzzle: cults.

It came from reading Underground by Haruki Murakami, a nonfiction journalistic account of the 1995 Tokyo sarin gas attacks carried out by the cult Aum Shinrikyo under the direction of its leader Shoko Asahara. Japan in the 90s was experiencing its own End of History, one taken literally by those disaffected with modern society's grand narrative. The prophecies of Nostradamus became fashionable among the young, who believed that 1999 would be the final year before the world was destroyed. Murakami interviewed both survivors of the gas attack and members of Aum Shinrikyo, collecting worldviews of people who simply thought they were "different" and who were willing to give everything in their lives to the one place that seemed to accept that difference.

The 1995 attacks were a watershed moment in Japanese culture. In their wake would come pivotal works of Japanese pop media, like the titan of otaku culture, Neon Genesis Evangelion:

(What's scary about Nostradamus' prophecy is that it might not come true. A year whose chief terror was that THIS WAS IT.)

Pokémon, whose first games released in Japan in 1996, also emerged within this post-Aum world where fixation on the minutiae of pop media was becoming a primary pillar of meaning for the youth, and it's hard not to see echoes of cultism in the evil teams that dot the series' landscape. Even Team Rocket, originally more modeled on organized crime than occultism, veers that direction in Gold and Silver, and afterward the organizations and their world-ending plots become increasingly absurd, to the point where it starts to become unclear why anyone would ever follow, say, Lysandre.

As I mentioned earlier, my personal interest in Pokémon was at odds with these clownish, Saturday morning cartoon villain organizations, but Murakami's account of the Aum attacks recontextualized them for me, made them make sense even within the framework of a "realistic" utopian world. The last elements snapped into place, and I knew my main character would be the member of one of these cults. A cult dedicated to, what else? Evolution. A core element of the Pokémon series, a perfect metaphor for the frustrating lack of movement of the End of History 90s. I imagined a cult leader as a surrogate mother figure for Aracely, who would have a strained relationship with both of her own parents, and deciding on that, the idea of making Pokémon's canon evil mother Lusamine the villain was a no-brainer. I imagined a post-SuMo Lusamine, unable to move on from her experience merged with Nihilego, languishing in Kanto after being sent there to consult with Bill, who had his own experience being merged with a Pokémon... It didn't take long to figure out how all these pieces connected.

The full form of the story had taken shape.

VI. Showdown

I knew immediately I would be following Showdown rules for the battles. No alternative even crossed my mind. I had dabbled in Showdown a few times over the years, first in Gen 3 OUs, then later in Gen 7 OUs, and I knew from experience that Pokémon is a monumentally more interesting competitive game when operating at a high level compared to either its depiction in the anime (shounen logic, mid-fight evolutions) or the general playing experience (spam your best move on your overleveled starter). I knew I would use competitive rulesets before I even considered the thematic or worldbuilding aspect I would eventually take in the story itself (i.e., that the specific rulesets prevent battles from becoming bloodsport and enforce order on the world). I simply thought doing battles this way would be far more entertaining.

To prepare, I started playing Gen 9 OUs under the guidance of a few friends who were into the competitive scene. I grinded the ladder for months, eventually getting a good enough grasp on the metagame to reach 1500 Elo on the Showdown ladder, which is not very good but generally higher than someone can reach with dumb luck.

Crafting the tournament format and rulesets used in the story wasn't difficult. I modeled the tournament format on the League of Legends World Championship, with region-based seeds (having been selected due to performance in regional tournaments) competing in four groups before the highest performers advanced to a single elimination bracket. Initially, I envisioned a 32-competitor bracket instead of the 16-competitor bracket that would appear in the final draft, but otherwise the format came quickly and easily.

In terms of the rulesets and available Pokémon, my considerations were made primarily in terms of what would be most entertaining to read. I decided to include Mega Evolutions and not include Z Moves, Dynamax, or Terastallization, because Mega Evolutions are cool and those other gimmicks are not. The bring-9-pick-6 format, while unusual in Showdown rulesets, is similar to the rules in Pokémon Stadium and VGC tournaments, and also adds a level of intrigue to which Pokémon each competitor uses. (It also enabled Red's Zapdos at the climax of the story, which was something I knew I would bring out from very early on.)

With the help of one of my friends who knew competitive Pokémon, I scripted out each battle assiduously before I wrote them. Every battle was tested using Showdown itself, with only a few turns mocked up to account for luck. For instance, in Aracely versus Jinjiao, Slowking is meant to stay asleep for three turns. Rather than rely on luck to ensure Slowking actually slept that long during the test, I could give Slowking a useless move and have him use that instead to simulate being asleep.

The only thing that couldn't be tested in Showdown was the 7 PP Kingambit trick Red uses at the end of the story, because it's impossible to set a Pokémon to have fewer than max PP in Showdown. This led to one of the bigger mistakes of the story, as it turns out that Encore would simply wear off if Kingambit ran out of PP, rather than forcing him to use Struggle like I assumed. Luckily, even if this were the case, it wouldn't change the outcome of the battle, so it's not an error I lose too much sleep over.

Character teams were chosen to thread the needle between a few considerations. The team needed to be competitively viable, reflect the character's personality in some way, and be distinct from other teams for the sake of variety. (Variety is somewhat unrealistic in real top-level competitive Pokémon, where you'll often see many almost identical teams in the top ranks. But that would be boring.) Some lack of optimization was allowed under the conceit that actually training these Pokémon to peak form would take a lot of time in the real world, compared to Showdown were optimization can be determined quickly due to the ability to immediately adjust stats and builds.

I also tried to give some preference for Pokémon that would be more familiar to layman fans, though this was difficult because Gen 8 and 9 have outrageous power creep and many popular early generation Pokémon have been completely phased out. (Using Megas helped with this issue.) It was this consideration that led to Azumarill being Aracely's ace. There was also an innate challenge to imagining what the competitive scene would look like without legendary Pokémon. Zapdos and Landorus-Therian have been inexorable staples of the competitive scene for generations. What happens in a world where they aren't used at all?

In the original 32-person bracket, I imagined Aracely competing against Jinjiao in the first round, then minor characters Adrian da Cunha and Jacq Ray Johnson in the next two rounds, before facing Toril in semifinals. I imagined Adrian da Cunha as a "hometown hero" whose team wasn't great but he was plucky with a lot of grit, and Jacq Ray Johnson as a self-aware heel who liked to use cheesy strategies and gimmicky Pokémon like Smeargle and Ditto. Condensing from 32 to 16 occurred around the same time I had settled on Lusamine as my villain/cult leader, which led to replacing those two with Gladion. I developed full brackets for both the 32-man and 16-man iterations, with character names and regions, just in case I ever needed to mention them.

All that was left to do was write the story.

VII. Unbroken Line of History

I began writing in September 2023 under the tentative title Unbroken Line of History, which I would later change to simply Lines. In the original drafts, I opened the story with a modified version of the panel from Electric Tale of Pikachu detailing how people are filtered over time in their pursuit of being the best, this time starting with all 8 billion people in the world until only one remains. The story then cut to Aracely's perspective in the restroom as she mentally prepared for her final group stage match.

At this point I was more set on Aracely being the clear protagonist of the story, so she had a few facets of her personality designed around that. First, as I mentioned before, there was a feminist angle where she was motivated specifically to be the first female trainer to win the championship. Secondly, I threw in some more generic nervousness/fear of failure. The other major difference is that I did not lead with the cult prophecy of the world ending. I originally envisioned the cult reveal to be a mid-story twist, and only obliquely hinted at it.

The scene still played out with Toril appearing and the two getting off to a bad start. Then, Cely's father tried to talk strategy with her while she ignored him, before the battle transpired in much the same form as it does in the final draft.

I showed this early draft to my friends and most disliked it. My girlfriend at the time told me Cely sounded like an edgy 13-year-old boy, while my neuroscientist friend whose aspirational idol is Bondrewd from Made in Abyss wanted to know more about the oblique hints of a cult, finding everything else boring. Another friend said it was stupid that there were 30 seconds between turns during the battle and that the Pokémon should just go at each other; nobody would actually want to watch a battle that was paced so slowly. (I vehemently disagreed with that take. Basically every popular sport balances between slow-paced moments of strategy and fast-paced moments of action and execution.) Some people I showed it to did enjoy it, though. Gazemaize, the author of Chili and the Chocolate Factory, was especially enamored by the Brittany/Gardevoir reveal and the Bud Light Analyst Desk, and implored me to keep both of those elements at all costs. 7th, one of my friends who helped me with the Showdown stuff, was so into it she drew fan art of all the characters (which I've posted before) and also wrote eight pornographic short stories about them.

I rewrote the same opening scene several times across October and November, though these were minor iterations without significant adjustments. Frustrated with the lack of progress, I decided to take a break from writing to simply think about the story for a few months.

During this time, to fix Aracely's edgy 13-year-old voice, I decided to lean into her being from Pokémon Los Angeles (with her native region, Visia, being a play on "visual" as a reference to Hollywood) and gave her a Valley Girl accent. To prepare for this, I listened to hours and hours of ASMR videos of people speaking like Valley Girls and took notes on their inflection and syntax. It was here where I decided on Aracely's underlining quirk, as a way of capturing the unique style of emphasis Valley Girls used.

This also made me realize I needed to adjust Aracely's personality. Despite the tone of her voice, she was still acting antisocially. She didn't want to talk to her father, she didn't want to talk to Lachlan Nguyen, she didn't even really want to talk to Toril. Toril herself was a lump of coal. My own misanthropy kept leaking into the characters, even when I conceptually didn't want them to have it. I thought back to Cleveland Quixotic, and how what made the Jay and Viviendre romance work was that they actually both liked each other, and figured—even though I didn't have explicitly romantic plans for Aracely and Toril—that I needed to do something similar to make their rivalry truly pop. Rather than avoid people, Aracely would lean into talking to them, even if they were annoying. Although Toril remained frigid, there would be a part of her yearning for emotional contact, a way to coax her out of her shell.

I also thought deeply about the structure of my stories in general, and my inability to come up with good hooks. It was around this time that someone I knew was reading Chicago. They pointed out that the plot of Chicago doesn't really start until Chapter 26; that I was "burying the lede." I considered this. My logic, when writing Chicago, was that the Empire moving to take over Washington would be a twist, something that would shock and excite people and change their perception of the entire story.

But did that make sense, when really the story was "about" that twist? Didn't that just make everything before the twist harder to get into for a reader? Chicago might look radically different if I revealed the Empire's goals immediately, but it would also probably be a more immediately engaging work. I'm a big fan of delayed gratification in storytelling, but had I taken it too far?

This was a major revelation for me, and immediately I understood what I needed to do for my Pokémon story: move up the cult plotline. Place it front and center. Name the whole story after it even. I decided on framing the opening scene from Toril's perspective, depicting Aracely initially more as an alien other, emphasizing the fact that she was in a cult rather than hide it behind foreshadowing. This could also lead to Aracely and Toril having more of a dual protagonist setup, which would make my planned two-half finale (one half where Aracely battled "the man who always wins," one half where Toril got involved in stopping the cult's doomsday plot) work even better.

Confidence resurged. At the end of January 2024, my girlfriend of seven years  and I broke up. A few days later, I started writing the sixth—and ultimately final—draft of When I Win the World Ends.

VIII. When I Win the World Ends

Now it's the part of the Making Of where I actually make the thing I'm supposed to be making, but there's a lot less to say about it. Once I have a plan, the actual writing of the story is the easy part, and most of what I wrote—with a few exceptions—looks similar to the story as it exists now.

There were some oddities. I wrote the first seven chapters (everything up to the end of the Jinjiao battle) and then had to take a two week break to write a short piece for a writing contest I had entered in December as part of an effort to stop overthinking WIW. After this interruption, I returned to WIW writing perhaps a bit more perfunctorily than I usually would, leading to an original version of Chapter 8 (the chapter where MOTHER makes her first real appearance) that was short and abbreviated. Later, in editing, I would rewrite most of this chapter.

A few ideas emerged while writing, like the motif of serendipity/Logos, which I felt tied nicely to the ideas of evolution and history. It was also in this draft that I introduced Cely's friends Haydn and Charlie, as a nod to an earlier work of mine also featuring a fashion-obsessed girl from Los Angeles. (Speaking of nods to earlier works, in the original 32-man bracket, Cole Coulter featured as one of the competitors, but he didn't make the 16-man cut.)

The process went smoothly. I finished the draft at the end of May, a little under four months after I started it. I had envisioned the full story as being about 70,000 words, but the draft ended up closer to 115,000. Underestimating story length is just an essential element of the trade, though.

A few days after finishing the draft I went on a four-day Oklahoma Darkness Retreat where I had access to zero electronics. The goal was to think about my story deeply and how it could be improved in the editing process.

In this time chamber, where I did nothing except complete crossword puzzles and read The Recognitions by William Gaddis, I came to a realization. There was one element the story needed that wasn't already there.

That element was Sabrina. In the original draft, Sabrina was not present during the scene where Aracely meets the Old Man. She was mentioned obliquely a couple of times in conjunction with Aracely's "psychic powers," but it never really built to anything. There was still a scene where Aracely was interrogated due to her relationship with MOTHER, but only by nameless goons, and the scene lacked tension as it was clear Aracely could talk circles around them.

When I returned from Oklahoma, I prepared for my conception of Sabrina as a character by writing an 8,000 word short story from her perspective, which hashed out an entire backstory for her. Then, I started editing the draft.

For me, a lot of editing is just polish. Usually, cutting out needless sentences and fixing clunky ones, as well as emphasizing a few of the more understated themes and motifs. For instance, during editing, I made slight additions to emphasize the thematic connection between Aracely's suicide attempt and the global war that almost destroyed the world, as well as the connection between the moon and cyclical insanity (lunacy, etymologically, being related to the moon). I made the Old Man more of a Walt Disney-esque figure (from my notes: "a dying Disney"), rewriting much of his dialogue to either be direct quotes or to evoke his ideals. I also expanded on several of the scenes where Toril and Aracely interact to make their relationship more complex and nuanced. I gave MOTHER some new dialogue, including her speech in Chapter 18 about loving a child for the potential it promises, while also paradoxically wanting it to remain a child forever.

The largest changes were in the three chapters I almost fully rewrote. The first was Chapter 8, which as I mentioned earlier was overly terse. In the original draft, it depicted MOTHER as more pathetic, more dependent on Aracely. I decided to make her a more threatening figure, and incorporated a few references to the Moloch sacrifice scene from Valle Verde to make her seem more like a false idol. Similarly, I rewrote Chapter 12, which was originally a very short chapter that focused solely on a conversation between MOTHER and Nilufer that ended with the order to kidnap Aracely. In rewriting the chapter to include Fiorella, I gave myself more opportunity to flesh out the respective philosophies of her and MOTHER (including some of the story's most salient discussions about why cults exist), as well as give more of an insight into the inner workings of RISE as an organization. And lastly, I fully rewrote Chapter 19 to include Sabrina.

The last changes I made in editing were to the final chapter. When I finished the final draft of the story, I sent it to several readers, many of whom had looked at the original drafts of the first chapter, as well as julirites, the author of a Fargo fan fiction called London. There was an immediate and minor backlash to the final chapter, which was originally much more pessimistic, from most people who read it. In the original version, Aracely and Toril were not still in communication. (Fiorella was also dying of cancer instead of jockeying to replace the Old Man.) The finale had a much more somber, sedate, tragic note. Juli and 7th disliked this sad ending, while Gazemaize wanted me to cut the final chapter altogether. I felt confident that the final chapter was necessary, though, and revised it to its current version, which was much better liked.

And then... the story was finished, near the end of July. I crunched the numbers and realized that if I posted two chapters to start and then did a twice-weekly posting schedule, I could end the story serendipitously on October 12. So I did.

IX. Names and Special Thanks

In my Making Of post for Cleveland Quixotic, I had a fairly extensive list of where I got all the character and place names from. The list is a lot less extensive here; most names I constructed for the purpose of sounding evocative, rather than taking them from someplace specific. For instance, I chose the name Aracely Sosa because it sounds like whistling with its repeated S sounds, compared to Toril Lund which is a lot harsher with its consonants. You can see a similar rationale behind names like Fiorella Fiorina, Yui Matsui, and even some of the background characters, like Jacq Ray Johnson, Jr., where there is a lot of emphasis on alliteration and rhyme.

There are a couple of exceptions. Jinjiao is the in-game ID of a longtime Chinese League of Legends pro of middling notability. He picked the name (which means "Golden Horn") as a reference to the Golden Horned King, a villain from Journey to the West.

Lutz, Fiorella's cameraman, was named after an extremely minor character from Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance, who is not playable and only appears in a singular cutscene before being killed. They are so irrelevant that despite naming a character after them, I actually forgot their name, which is Lotz, not Lutz.

Haydn is named after the famous classical composer.

Special thanks to 7th and Elick320 for helping me with the teams and battles. Thanks to Gazemaize and julirites, among others unnamed, for reading and providing feedback. And thank you all for enjoying the story.

[joejhang]

my aftg hot takes

most of these are pretty lukewarm but i'm gonna get flamed for them anyway but whatever. spoilers ??? ahead ??? idk read at ur own risk

i don't think andreil ever say i love you to each other; i feel like the discourse about this is virtually endless ever since nora said it but honestly her explanation was so valid??? they're such a show not tell couple it just makes so much sense for them to show the "i love you" in their actions than ever saying the words out loud. esp bc neither of them have ever really heard those words and have them mean anything real or true or actually loving. personally i think their little percentages and the "i hate you"'s and kisses and keys mean more to them than an "i love you" ever could. i'm not a purist on this tho i do think i could visualise it happening maybe somewhere along the road i just think nora's explanation for this is very very in line with canon andreil.

i don't hate thea muldani; i've made a post abt this but basically my thoughts around her are literally just: she's a human being, and she's never gonna be perfect. i also find it very...interesting how the fandom likes to flame thea (an explicitly stated woman of colour) for being "problematic" and a "terrible person/character" when she doesn't act all that different from andrew, neil and kevin (white men) ??? idk it seems a little strange to me bc she seems pretty on par with them on whatever moral compass this batshit crazy fandom has decided to impose on these fictional and very much morally ambiguous characters. anyway go check out my post i go a lot deeper into thea's character and why she does a lot of things wrong but i don't rlly think she's deserving of the insane amounts of hate she gets in the fandom.

i don't think andreil ever get married; this MIGHT be me projecting bc the idea of marriage is just a very complicated and rough concept in my mind but also just i feel like there's something so beautiful about andreil never really putting a label on their relationship??? like they never define it by calling the other their "boyfriend" or "husband" they just are. they have nothing "concrete" binding them like a marriage certificate but they choose to stay with each other through everything. idk it's real to me but again i'm not a purist people can do whatever they want.

i've said it before but i'll keep saying it till enough people hear me: the aftg fandom mischaracterises literally the main fucking characters; i'm mostly talking about andrew and ESPECIALLY neil here bc neil is not a sweet, sunshiney, oblivious, blushy softboy and andrew is not a cold, unemotional, stoic, "conceal don't feel" stone. since i've already bitched on and on about neil's mischaracterisation let's just talk about andrew for a sec. i think andrew is actually a deeply emotional person and is fully aware of the feelings he experiences. does he vocalise or express them often? no but more often than not they show themselves anyway. him crashing out after neil was kidnapped, letting himself get walked like a dog by neil for three books straight, choking allison for slapping aaron, idk i could go on. but yeah you get it.

i don't actually think neil is that oblivious; before people come at me like "but nora said!" or whatever yeah, i know she said he's as dense as a brick when it comes to people flirting with him. considering how much of the ec the aftg fandom likes to disregard allow me to disregard this little bit of it, yeah? this isn't me tryna impose my own projections onto nora's characters, this is lit just me tryna explain how i understand neil josten (he's my bsf btw). he literally clocks his feelings for andrew in trk (after his deep convo™ with nicky) but he just files it away for later bc he doesn't consider attraction or romantic interest anything to be thinking about considering he's got the mafia and his serial killer dad on his tail. i also don't really blame him for not catching onto andrew's feelings earlier (tho doesn't he get pretty fucking close during that one convo they have in exites in trk???? someone correct me if i'm wrong but) bc dude andrew was out here sending fucking mixed ass signals like bro was saying "you are a pipe dream" and "i hate you" in the same fucking conversations like??? neil has always taken andrew at face value and he's not about to question him now. he's also never confused or uncertain about nicky or marissa and what their comments about him meant, he just genuinely does not gaf about them so he doesn't acknowledge them or pay them any attention in his narration. i truly truly think his dismissal of all the advances made upon him in aftg were borne out of indifference, not obliviousness.

have already said this in detail but i don't think andrew's actually a misogynist; the wording doesn't feel right. i'd probably describe andrew's distrust of women (esp. those in motherly/mother roles) as a similar ingrained wariness that neil has for older men. this is something borne out of trauma and shitty experiences that takes time and trust to unlearn. nora says a lot of things the fandom disregards and for me, this is one of those things i'm a little iffy about. misogyny actually isn't reflected in andrew's actions at all, i'd say. does he respect women? no. but he doesn't respect anyone unless they've actually earned it. and among the people he does respect and care for there are women (renee, bee). he doesn't treat women any differently and obv doesn't think they're any weaker than men are (considering renee wipes the floor w him their first sparring sesh). andrew's an equal opportunity hater and i don't think he actually has any sexist or even misogynistic tendencies. i think what is there is just a slightly biased worldview of disliking/mistrusting mother figures, given his bad experiences w tilda and cass (they've left him w more long-term emotional damage that's probably rlly difficult and complicated for him to work through esp considering cass did love??? him and he did want her enough to be willing to suffer dr*ke to be close to her; there's more to it but for the sake of word count i won't go into it) but honestly it doesn't actually show that much??? if people wanna say he hates women, sure, but for one, he doesn't hate a lot of things he's just very indifferent to them and two, he holds a pretty similar apathetic distaste for most people and things, so it's not like a very big distinction. i also think the whole "no girls" thing w aaron was very much a personal thing, and his mistrust of katelyn probably came from aaron's past (apparently negative) experiences w other girlfriends and friendships in general. and if i remember correctly the deal wasn't even "no girls" it was just "family only" which is why aaron didn't make friends w the rest of the foxes either. i digress but i don't think saying "andrew isn't a misogynist" is robbing him of any nuance as a character.

i like nicky and honestly feel similarly towards him as i do about thea; he isn't perfect and never will be and i think while the way he acts towards neil and others (see: matt, kevin) is pretty untoward and inappropriate, i also do see where he's coming from, esp after aaron's explanation of it. that it's a defence mechanism coming from someone who's experienced a lot of prejudice and harm because of his sexuality. obv i think everyone can agree his assault on neil was fucked up but i think nora was right in saying that nicky was high and drunk and not rlly in his right mind at the time, and he does apologise and i'm pretty sure she also said he and neil work it out privately anyway. he's a messy character and definitely not perfect queer rep but again, he's pretty realistic, and i think he's honestly a rlly well-written and complex character.

[aventurineswife]

Dan Heng with a reader who has an interest for dragons, collecting small, detailed sculptures or legends from different cultures, including media (books, movies, shows) etc. But after the Xianzhou Luofu arc, reader seems to suddenly shut up altogether about dragons, especially around Dan Heng. And distance themselves a little from Dan Heng for a while. Reader is dealing with an internal conflict, on one hand having feelings for him, on the other hand, they want to ask him about Vidyadharas, but dont want to come across as only interested in him because of his draconic features.

So, Dan Heng confronts them and maybe an eventual confession?

(Hope I'm making sense, pls take your time with this one, you dont need to rush it)

What lies Beneath

Summary: After the events of the Xianzhou Luofu arc, you, a passionate collector of dragon lore and mythology, begin to distance yourself from Dan Heng. Wrestling with feelings for him, you're afraid he'll think you only care about him for his draconic features and Vidyadhara heritage. Dan Heng notices the change and, worried about the growing distance, confronts you.

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Xianzhou Luofu Arc, Mutual Pining, Confession, Light Angst with a Happy, Dragon Enthusiast!Reader, Internal Conflict, Gentle Romance.

Warnings: Slight angst, Mention of identity struggles, Brief emotional vulnerability.

A/N: I'M SORRY IF I DID SOMETHING WRONG, I MOSTLY HAVE FORGOTTEN ABOUT THE LOUFU ARC!! 😭😭

You hadn’t realized how quiet you’d become around Dan Heng—not at first, anyway. But the weight of it sat on your chest like a stone, an invisible divide that hadn’t been there before. The journey to the Xianzhou Luofu had changed everything. Your fascination with dragons and mythical creatures, once an easy passion you shared with him, had now grown complex and tangled. Knowing Dan Heng’s true nature—that he was the Imbibitor Lunae, that he was once something more than he claimed to be—changed it all.

Days passed, and you found yourself drawing back, not out of disinterest but out of fear. You could barely meet his eyes, feeling too aware of every question and curiosity still buzzing in your head, all revolving around dragons and Vidyadhara and…him. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask him about any of it, feeling an unwelcome twist in your stomach at the thought. The last thing you wanted was for him to think you only saw him as a curiosity, some myth you could pin down like one of the small, polished figurines you collected.

So, instead, you distanced yourself, let conversations trail off when they veered toward your interests, gave half-hearted smiles when he looked your way. You couldn’t explain why it hurt so much or why the silence between you felt like a wound you couldn’t bring yourself to bandage.

One evening, you slipped into the archives to distract yourself, seeking solace in the worn pages of one of your favorite books on myths. As your fingers traced the lines of an old story about a guardian dragon, you felt a familiar presence at the door.

“Mind if I join you?” Dan Heng’s voice was low, quiet, yet it pierced the air with a clarity that made your pulse quicken. He stepped inside before you could answer, closing the distance between you with his usual, measured calm.

“Dan Heng, I…” You scrambled to shut the book and turned away, but he was already watching you with that piercing, steady gaze.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said gently, his eyes searching yours. “I thought… perhaps it was because of what happened on the Luofu.”

You shook your head, laughing faintly, though it lacked any real humor. “No, no, that’s not it. Or… maybe it is, but not how you think.”

“Then why?” He took a step closer, looking down at you, his gaze unreadable but not cold. “I thought you might understand.”

“I do understand,” you said, swallowing, fighting the lump in your throat. “Or, I’m trying to. But, after everything… I didn’t want you to think that… that I just—” You faltered, clenching your fists as you looked down, frustrated with your own lack of words.

“That you just what?” he asked softly, closing the distance until he was standing only a step away. His voice was gentle but unyielding, patient but unwilling to let this go.

“That I’m only interested in you because of… because of your Vidyadhara heritage,” you finally said, barely a whisper. “I didn’t want to hurt you by treating you like something out of one of my books, like some… myth I could admire from a distance.”

Dan Heng’s expression softened, a hint of sadness and understanding tracing the edges of his gaze. “Do you really think that’s how I see myself to you?”

You swallowed, struggling to find your voice. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I care about you, Dan Heng. And I didn’t want you to think that what you told me, what you shared, changed anything between us.”

He took another step forward, his fingers reaching out to gently lift your chin so your gaze met his. His touch was warm, his eyes holding an intensity that made your pulse race. “What I am… the part of me that’s Vidyadhara, Imbibitor Lunae—that is part of my past. But it doesn’t define everything I am. Not to you, not to the Astral Express.”

You hesitated, feeling your heart beat faster at his words. “I just… I didn’t want to make you feel like I saw you any differently because of it.”

Dan Heng’s hand lingered, his gaze unwavering. “But if I’m honest, I’ve been hoping you would see me differently. Just not in the way you fear.” His thumb brushed your cheek, and he looked away, almost shyly, as if revealing more than he intended. “Because I… I want to mean something to you beyond all that.”

Your heart raced, the weight of your own unspoken feelings swelling within you. “Dan Heng, I… I didn’t think you—”

He silenced you with a small, almost self-conscious smile. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t felt… conflicted about this, too. But when I’m with you, it feels simple.” His gaze softened, vulnerability shining through the walls he so often held up. “I don’t need you to see me as something mythical or fascinating. I just want you to see… me.”

Something in his words broke through the last of your restraint, and you felt your hand move on its own, reaching up to cup his face. “Dan Heng,” you breathed, smiling softly. “I’ve always seen you. Just… you.”

For a moment, he simply looked at you, as though searching for something, his own uncertainty fading into a quiet calm. Then, he closed the gap between you, his lips brushing yours with a gentleness that left you breathless. The kiss was soft, hesitant, as though he feared losing you the moment he dared to let himself feel this.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his hands steadying you as he let out a soft, almost contented sigh. “Then let’s leave the myths in the books, at least for tonight.” he murmured, his voice as gentle as the warmth that surrounded you.

You nodded, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you looked up at him, feeling the weight of everything between you finally fall away. “I think that sounds perfect.”

Damn Dan Heng getting on my ask page a lot 🤭, I hope I didn't butcher his character up!

[watercat-atsea]

stancest post weirdmageddon where the two are still building up their relationship. They still have so much to talk about, so much to catch up on.

Ford really did have time to learn about Stans time being homeless. Right after he came back to Gravity Falls their relationship was rocky, then weirdmageddon happened…. But now that they are back to talking the truth can be told.

To put it simply Ford feels immense guilt. None of what happened to Stan would have if Ford had just gotten over himself and didn’t get so mad. At least that’s what Ford thinks.

Despite this they develop a deeper relationship. One thing leads to another and a kiss turns into groping turns into taking off clothes.

Ford has his hand threaded through Stans hair. In a lust haze he tugs on his hair.

Everything stops for Stan. He pulls away immediately. He’s too freaked out and scared to keep going. But he’s embarrassed as well.

Ford is concerned. Keeps asking “what’s wrong?” “Are you ok Stanley?”

Stan laughs bitterly, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes, and explains he had some unsavory sexual encounters with people. That these encounters were rough and getting his hair pulled reminded him of it.

It’s easy for Ford to deduce what Stan can’t say.

Stan was raped. and Ford made him feel those same emotions.

The guilt eats him alive

…..

Idk where to go with this I just love making Ford feel guilt haha

[carto0ncritter]

PLEASE DO NOT HARASS THIS PERSON.

I'm genuinely tired of HB/HH/Vivziepop stans putting words into my mouth.

"You literally hate everything about the show"

Fyi, I didn't hate the premise. I also don't hate: 1) The animation; 2) The voice acting; 3) The potential the show had, and hopefully still has, since it will apparently have at least four seasons.

But ever since HB went from being about the misadventures of assassins in Hell, into a romance drama between two characters who are clearly toxic for each other, that's when I started hating the plot. The third point you made is true, I do hate the plot, and I will continue to do so, unless all this focus on an abusive gay ship (Stolitz) shifts back to what got me and a lot of other people into the show in the first place. And no, I'm not going to stop being vocal about it just because someone else told me to. You're on the internet buddy, learn to accept the fact that not everyone will have the same opinions as you.

And that's really NOT something to get worked up about.

"Just stop watching it if you are this upset about all of this"

Maybe you should stop going into the critical tag if you know that what you're gonna find there will upset you. Just a thought.

And if you've come across my post by searching "blitzo" "moxxie" "millie" or "loona," all you had to do was read the very first sentence I wrote (having to do about my issues with the latest episode) and click off my post because clearly criticism of your beloved show triggers you. And no, I won't stop tagging the characters like this even if I have something negative to say about them. This perfectly explains as to why:

"You hate the main character"

Which one? If you mean Blitzø, then no. I don't hate him. I literally said it in the tags.

But if you mean Stolas, then yeah, I hate him. So what?

"You hate most of the characters in general"

If by most characters you mean Stolas, then yes, I do.

But uh... I don't hate any other character aside from maybe Loona? She's written so inconsistently. There's no real development when it comes to Loona. She acts like a huge bitch and a spoiled brat despite receiving love from her dad for five years straight. She is a grown ass woman who kicked Blitzø in the balls after telling Octavia that Stolas is "trying his best" when he clearly wasn't. She physically abused Blitzø just because he called her out RIGHTFULLY, remind me why she didn't beat the shit out of him again in the latest episode after Blitzø wanted her to overwork herself AND didn't pay her for a month?

Oh and there's also the time Loona cheered for Blitzø, tucked him in and called him dad. Why is she abusive towards him in the very next episode?

That's the inconsistency I'm talking about.

As for the other main characters:

I genuinely relate to Octavia. And I feel sorry for her. Enough said.

I don't care about Millie. It's too little too late for that.

I'm not sure how to feel about Moxxie. Where is his character arc even going? What is his character arc? Learning to stand up for himself for the millionth fucking time?

Stella is a wasted character whose only purpose is making Stolas seem "innocent." I hate what the writers did to her.

Also yes, I dislike Viv for reasons that are 100% valid and available to the public, so I'm not making stuff up.

[sordidmusings]

WIP TUESDAY - Sugar Daddy Headcanons with Shanks and Garp

Saw Schoute's wonderful art WIP and writing and wanted to join the fun! Have some ridiculous Blorbos as Sugar Daddies headcanons that have been on my backburner LOL I've got Shanks and Garp ready for y'all 🫡 They're pretty much done, I moreso have to fill out everyone else on the list 🤡 No warnings really! Just some allusions to spice but nothing explicit. Lots of silliness. I believe they're gender neutral but I'm going to tag as afab just in case because I fear it may be in the subtext since that's the perspective I wrote it from and the one people generally expect for sugar babies. Might be fun to subvert sometime by writing them with explicitly amab sugar babies. I will Ponder lol I'd also love to see what everyone is working on so please take this as a sign to post something of your own!!

The song I blame for everything (I love u Thot Squad):

“This fine old man, he played three

He can knickknack this coochie

With an Amex black card, get a girl a Benz

Reset and do it again”

Word Count: Shanks ~750, Garp ~400 (sorry about the favoritism Vice Admiral 😬)

Shanks

shanks absolutely pursued this type of relationship with you

Your pretty face and open smile snagged his attention but the way you easily met and fed his energy had him at you like a dog with a bone

He’s no stranger to helping people laugh their way into his bed, but the journey with you felt different. He took extra time simply because each moment with you was too good to keep from savoring

You didn’t hide your attraction at any point but he did appreciate that you would try and prod back at him in good humor to test his will and want

You found he had both in excessive abundance

It felt nice to have someone so attractive, established, feared, and adored seek your company and watch him become more interested with each minute he got of you. It also felt nice to see that while he certainly had an abundance of confidence he held no arrogance with you - he played no games in making you question his interest or assert his importance to you. He treated you as a person (one he mainly wanted to turn to his bedroom tenant but still-) and it made him feel more like a man than a myth for you both too

And holy hell did you like that man - he made you laugh even if at his own expense, he impressed you when he’d let some of his cunning slip through the jovial pirate shtick, he kept your interest with how he could entertain any topic you brought forward, he made you feel beautiful with the way his eyes and hands soaked you in, and he made you feel wanted with the way he treated everything about you with genuine interest. 

The only thing that made it better is how he made sure you wanted for nothing. The first night it was making sure you didn’t pay a cent for anything, you always had food and drink right before you realized you wanted it, his coat found your shoulders the moment you felt a chill, you found yourself in fresh air right when the heat and the noise of the bar became too much. 

After that it was an endless stream of trinkets, from priceless to silly but sentimental, all coming with letters that had you laughing, blushing, and swooning.

Every time he’d visit you (and it was at first as often as he thought he could manage but that managed to get even sooner and sooner because of his need for you) you’d indulge in each other like it was the first and last time

He stopped wanting anyone else - there were enough people across the seas he had to apologize to after explaining why he’d gasped the wrong name and they were never right to scratch the new insatiable itch he had anyway

When it dawned on him how much you had him wrapped around your finger, not just physically and financially but also mentally, emotionally, and he’s pretty sure even spiritually, he may have had a crisis (the crew was very torn between amusement and true wory watching it unfold, especially when the usual rum and patented Beckman Shoulder Pat with Nod didn't ease his turmoil)

It wasn't because he didn’t want to love you, but he truly never thought he’d ever find someone he wanted and needed the way he does you. It was such a foreign concept to him that he felt like the world had tilted and left everything slightly unfamiliar. Especially coming from a relationship he stapled together with riches. Sure, there was also joy, camaraderie, and intimacy holding it together, but he found it harder to trust that someone such as you wouldn't find someone younger and more present to belong to than to trust that you could need him to sustain a lifestyle of ease and abundance.

If he couldn't be sure you'd want him, he'd try and find solace in you needing him, even if it was only for what he could afford you

When he finally told Beckman of his plight, he was slightly offended by the “it took you this long to figure it out?”

He’s currently trying to figure out how to convince you to live on his ship with him. He needed to let you know you’d be safe regardless of your experience level with the seas or battle. 

He’d bring the world to its knees if anything touched a hair on your head

Luckily for him, you knew. Anyone with eyes would from the way he smiles at you.

Garp

Garp was decidedly not in your plans. Yes, you wanted someone older, someone with wealth, someone with influence, someone who would take care of you, but you thought Gilfs were an urban legend told to see what face it would get out of freshies

You’re not complaining tho

He has certainly convinced you that the rarity of his kind just pointed to what a prized role it was to shack up with one

He was rough around the edges to be sure - brash and loud and stubborn - but he used all those traits to get you both exactly what you wanted

All your needs were met without you having to even think of them anymore (you were surprised that needs in the bedroom were included in that, but you supposed you shouldn’t have underestimated a man who could still punch apart battle ships, nor one with such a lust for eating)

Neither of you had any illusions of sweeping romance

You were more than happy with the care and respect that built between the two of you in your roles, growing with each act of service to each other, each piece of comfort, each unintended moment of vulnerability

Don’t get me wrong, the vulnerability ain’t common; most of your time is this man having fun watching you light up when he took you out and tossed his money around for you before taking you home to have multiple courses of dessert

You’ll never get over his gruff voice and curling accent - they helped your brain turn to mush while he coaxed and praised you through happily giving him everything he wants as a thank you for all his care

That voice along with all that burliness and age, which you thought would’ve been a turn off not on, ended up making you feel small yet so protected

Garp didn’t think he’d enter a relationship like this that went on so long and so easily but any reservation or second guessing was lost the moment he saw you and everything just felt natural

Tho he’d still make jokes that always make you groan about how you keep him young better than his troublesome recruits (that he is stuck between wanting to parade you around to see their jaws drop and wanting to keep you hidden away from any young bucks who may try to get your attention before he’s ready to let you go)

Thank you for reading 😘🤍🤍

Masterlist

[psychomusic]

presenting to you: vegoia laran!

vegoia is the daughter of suri and tar'x laran, so, she's half-mirialan and half-zabrak. she lived on the mountains of mirial with her family until she began her jedi training at around 10 years, then she became a jedi seer.

more of her childhood under the cut! the rest of her story will be on other posts, I'll link them at the end when I'll post them

thank you @furious-blueberry0 for letting me use your padawan braid idea and jedi seer headcanon!! i really really love these ideas <3

since her birth, she seemed special at the eyes of her people, due to an old local myth: the founding witch.

(the myth is: a powerful witch, haunted by complex visions of the future, was exiled to the desert planet of mirial. after years spent traveling she had one clear vision on top of a mount, in which she saw the potential beauty of the valley, full of different lifeforms flourishing. with her magical powers, she turned that possible future into a reality, and everything changed: the 4 peoples who lived there started turning into trees and animals, what once was sterile rock became fertile ground, and craters were filled with water. but despite her good work, the incomprehensible visions kept returning. tired of the universe's infinite lessons, she decided to crystalize all of her visions and knowledge into the sacred crystal, and prophetized, before dying, that one day someone attuned to it would come to claim the crystal and understand the lessons she couldn't understand)

because of her albinism (that made her white like the crystal) and of her horns (the crystal has an horned shape), people thought she was the prophetized one. when she began to talk - rather late, and asked people to resolve the riddles that "a bearded man told her in her dreams" - what was just a rumor solidified into a belief.

her mother and grandfather, both in the high priesthood, taught her everything they could. they taught her to study, to reflect, and they explained to her their religion and folklore. also, her mother often tried to help her in her quest of finding answers. from her, vegoia learned how to study, and the right mindset to be able, later, to explore the jedi's philosophy and beliefs.

but it was her father that, despite his absence, taught her how to compromise with her visions, how to be patient, how to handle the state of ignorance, and how to enjoy it anyway. he was somehow better at understanding her, and making her understand things, than everyone else in the town. maybe, it was because he not only had met different force users, but also had experience with a force sensitive kid (his little brother, whom vegoia shared a lot of similar traits). despite her mother being a healer & priestess, and believing in the value in helping people, it was her father who really grounded that belief in her. in particular, he did it in a moment that. also shaped her experience of the force. a simple moment, though: she had asked him to kill a scary bug that was laying flat on its back, but he refused and instead asked her to help it. he believed that helping is what gives life sense - even more than the bonds we make, because it can't be undone. when vegoia picked up the bug and helped it get back on its feet, she could feel the bug's relief, and maybe even gratitude, through the force. this was the imprint of her experience of the force: connection (even more than her visions, that just "happened" to her, and couldn't actively call upon her).

BUT I DIGRESSED way too much on her childhood. the most important event in her childhood was the day she was taken by the jedi, even if she didn't know what truly happened that day.

the SIS had been tracking her father's movements for a while and had found out about his trips to mirial. worried that the empire was planning something, they sent a squad of operatives to investigate. since his father had often worked for the dark council, the SIS requested a jedi to come with them. when they arrived, suri went to talk to them. they threatened her into talking and she told them of their secret family. the SIS decided to take them prisoners, capture him when he got back, and make him talk using his family as leverage. the jedi disagreed with such methods but the operation was under the SIS's jurisdiction. suri then tried to convince them to leave the town and her daughter, and to instead blackmail him with her. the SIS refused, fearing that the sith might kill him before he could even know about the blackmailing. the jedi, feeling vegoia's strong presence in the force decided to make a deal: vegoia would've come with him to the temple to become a jedi. she'd still have a life, while suri would stay under their custody for the SIS trap. this would also show the agent the difference between the republic and the empire, and hopefully that would help him talk. she accepted at one condition: that they took her away before her father came back, so that she wouldn't have to live through it. vegoia didn't know of her father's real job, like everyone else in the town (everyone thought he had traded his services to the hutts to have the sacred horned crystal back).

they agreed, but, while suri was busy packing thing for vegoia, the SIS decided to put another condition. vegoia musn't be told anything about that day until her father had been taken into republic's custody, as a precaution. the jedi agreed, thinking it wouldn't be long before her father would come home and be arrested. little did he know this momentary omission would grow into a years-old lie.

[rikeijo]

A very deep dive into Yuri!!! on ICE canon #1

~Yuuri's bisexuality~

It's been 8 years, times changed, but to this day there are people in YoI fandom, who seem to be extremely uncomfortable with the idea that Yuuri can indeed be canonically bisexual and have had feelings for a girl (or anyone else that isn't Victor). As funny as it is to see people being obsessed with proving that a fictional character could have never ever even thought about touching a girl, I personally find it a bit scary, too.

There is no official sexuality confirmed&set in stone for any of the characters, and this is why everyone is able to interpret all the little nudges and pointed looks from the creators however they like, and the creators repeatedly stated that they are okay with that. Nevertheless, I gathered pieces of evidence (that I know of), that point toward Yuuri being canonically bisexual.

If you are bisexual and identify with Yuuri, but have ever felt that somebody is trying to invalidate your interpretation of the character, as in any way “inferior” or “headcanon not supported by canon” this post is dedicated to you ✨

Starting with the tl;dr conclusion of this very long post:

bisexual Yuuri is a valid interpretation of the canon Yuuri.

To begin with, the main point: Yuuri’s feelings for Yuuko and how the story deals with them.

Without Yuuko, the story wouldn’t have happened and episode 1. made it clear that she’s a very important person in Yuuri’s life – this is what everyone who watched the show agrees on, but were Yuuri’s feelings romantic?

Why Yuuko was called the “Madonna of Ice Castle Hasetsu”

“アイスキャッスルはせつ”のマドンナ 相変わらずかわいいし/"Madonna of Ice Castle Hasetsu", and she’s cute like she always has been.”

How the word “Madonna” in Japanese is used is explained eg. here:

“In modern Japanese, more than in its religious meaning, the word “Madonna” is normally used as a metaphor for a “woman I adore”. (…) As “Madonna” means “a woman sb adores”, the word is used in phrases like: “Madonna of this school” or “Madonna-like person” etc. It’s not a word that is used in everyday life conversations directly to describe the person you speak to, but often when speaking with somebody else, if you want to emphasize how beautiful the woman is (...)”.

Google “マドンナ 意味” and the same dictionary definition will come up -（あこがれの）美しい女性 / A beautiful woman (sb admires/yearns for). Kubo Mitsurou has used this word in her other works in the same meaning – a beautiful woman the main character (secretly) adores/crushes on.

Calling Yuuko the ‘Madonna of the Ice Castle Hasetsu’ simply means that all the boys/girls on the rink had a crush on her (Yuuri included). And to put even more emphasis on that, Yuuri says that nothing has changed – she’s as cute as she always has been. When a boy says something like ‘あの子、可愛い’, ‘that girl/boy is cute’, it’s the most natural way to say: ‘to me, she/he is physically attractive’.

In conclusion, in the very beginning of the story, the creators decided to show us a scene, which establishes that to Yuuri, Yuuko has always been and still is physically attractive. Soon after this scene we have:

The love confession

“優ちゃん　僕、ずっと… 優ちゃんのこと…”

This has been already said thousands of times, but for good or for bad, this phrase is worded just as a love confession would be.

The translation of this line is a simple: “Yuu-chan… I’ve always… You…”, but in Japanese, there is this untranslatable “のこと/no koto” included in this line, which is exactly the part that makes is sound like Yuuri’s about to confess his love to Yuuko. It’s a way to put more emphasis on the noun, and you could say it’s something close in meaning to ‘everything about you’. Of course, the creators chose to not finish this sentence, so what Yuuri would exactly say is a mystery, but the wording/grammar naturally makes you expect a confession of feelings. Would he say ‘suki’ or something milder? That we don’t know, but eg. the word that Yuuri uses for Yuuko earlier in the same scene, "憧れの人/person I admire”, or any form of the same verb, simply wouldn't fit grammatically in this sentence.

But Yuri!!! is not just all 'tell' - it's very much 'show'. That it was supposed to be a confession of feelings is also pretty clear, when we look at Yuuri’s face in this scene. Even setting aside how the grammar limits the choice of how this sentence could be finished, Yuuri’s facial expression doesn't read: “You’ve always been a good friend to me, Yuuko. I liked skating together with you…🥲" No, all of sudden, Yuuri looks nervous and unsure, embarrassed, even though just a moment before, he had a normal conversation with her. Just like somebody would be, if they wanted to finally say something that they always wanted to say for so many years, even if it’s far too late now. This leads us to another important point:

How Yuuri’s feelings for Yuuko fit in the bigger story

A lot of people say that the Yuuri x Yuuko scene in episode 1. is just a trap of sort - you expect Yuuko to be the heroine of the story, but she isn’t. And this is very true that in the end, it’s obvious that she isn’t. At the same time though, it’s worth noting that the creators never deny in the story itself that Yuuri has had feelings for her, but they were simply unrequited. There is never any conversation with Nishigori of the likes of ‘-You liked Yuuko, didn’t you?’ ‘-No! It’s not like that! She’s always been like a sister to me!’ – to make sure everyone knows that Yuuri doesn’t like girls.

Quite the opposite - just like in real life, your crush marring somebody else doesn’t automatically erase your own feelings (Mitsurou tackles this topic in Moteki, too, funnily enough), I think that the creators wanted to suggest that this is simply what Yuuri experienced - a heartbreak. ‘Yuuri could never try to confess his feelings for a married woman!!!’ some people may say, but the confession scene can be easily interpreted as Yuuri wanting to finally say what he didn’t get to say earlier, to let it go and move on. For context, it’s perhaps important to remember that Yuuko got pregnant at 18/19, when Yuuri was only 16/17 and that must have been quite a shock for Yuuri at that age – as soon as he could (to go to uni at 18, after Yuuko had the triplets), he moved out of Hasetsu and hasn’t visited his hometown for the next 5 years.

It also all makes perfect sense in the bigger picture. Yuuri let Yuuko go and most likely didn’t even think about fighting for her (lack of self-confidence etc. + his choice to focus on skating). The story even suggests that he run away from this situation, which creates a very nice contrast to how the second time around, he doesn't run away, but stands his ground - Yuuri chose to actively fight (literally, with Yurio in Onsen on ICE) to not let Victor go.

The really cool thing about YoI is that the characters are realistic. It means that they are complicated, they aren’t just all perfect and always rational, making all the good and/or easy to understand choices. Plus, they are adults (this was important to Sayo according to her interviews), which naturally means more experience of many different sorts. They aren’t over-simplified anime/BL templates, whose personality is a collection of tropes or this one thing they are absolutely obsessed with. Imo, Yuuri’s complicated feelings for figure skating/Yuuko/Victor, all jumbled together, as the story shows them to us, are an excellent example of this.

What the creators have to say on this topic

After meeting with the Nishigoris in episode 1., the next line that Yuuri says is:

この町を出て５年間、スケートのことだけ考えて見ないようにしてきたことがいっぱいあった 僕は１人で滑っていく. 5 years have passed since I left this town. I’ve been thinking only about skating, and I chose not to see/look at a lot of things. I’m going to skate alone from now on.

This line is directly linked to what Kubo Mitsurou said about the reason why Yuuri had never come back to Hasetsu in those five years:

(…) I was also thinking about the reason why Yuuri didn’t want to go back to his hometown for such a very long time, that it's because of Nishigori and Yuuko. When it comes to Nishigori and Yuuko’s relationship, I think Yuuko is the one who started it. She didn’t confess her feelings directly, but I think it was probably very clear that she likes Nishigori. (…)

That Yuuri didn’t want to face Yuuko and Nishigori together suggests clearly that there are unresolved feelings on Yuuri’s side towards their marriage. I don’t think that they have to be just simple ‘I loved you, but you are married to another guy now and I don’t want to see that’, but it’s very likely that this is part of that ‘many things that I chose not to see/look at’ that Yuuri mentions. In the end, Yuuri didn’t say what he wanted to say to Yuuko and it seems that instead, it's this scene that tells us that now, back in Hasetsu after facing Yuuko and Nishigori and their children again, Yuuri decided to move on - alone.

Also Hiramatsu Tadashi mentions Yuuri’s feelings for Yuuko, and that they were an important part of episode 1.:

– After character design, you started working on animating the episodes, I assume. You are the Animation Director for the first episode - what was the key scene for that episode? Hiramatsu: For Yuuri, it was the sequence of scenes that leads to the scene, in which he is skating at the rink in Hasetsu. At first, he experienced a crushing defeat, and still depressed he came back to his hometown. He sees his posters at the train station, and reacts to that with 'oh no, that’s embarrassing~’, but he can’t just retire like that. [The sequence of scenes] until, when he re-affirms that there is still something that he wants to do… His changing emotions, and feelings that he has for Yuuko. That was what I paid special attention to, as I was working.

All in all, it’s the same issue once again – Yuuri’s character is not only about Victor. His journey is much more complicated than that, and because of this, it’s way more realistic. Treating Yuuri's feelings for Yuuko as inconvenience to yaoi shipping is just... reducing the story to what it never even aspired to be (a bundle of yaoi tropes).

～Bonus round～

Yuuri and the ladies ✨

This one is mainly my speculation (I'm really interested in the topic of how queerness in portrayed in anime&related media).

A very unique characteristic of YoI, which people who are interested in anime and representation probably noticed is that Victor is “safely” kept away from all female characters.

Why they couldn’t just say ‘he’s gay’ is a topic for another long discussion, so let’s simply state the fact – they couldn’t. If we think about the topic of YoI, how it’s 'we love&support you' message to gay figure skaters, who have been facing blatant homophobia when competing, it’s not hard to imagine that it was important for the creators to not give the viewers the wrong idea…

The problem is, in Japan, heteronormativity is still the default setting and people will look at even the smallest of details to prove that the character is ‘normal’. This trick is even often used by the creators themselves to make the homophobic part of the audience feel more comfortable with shows that contain more or less queer-coding – Buddy Daddies is a prime example of this - the show literally starts with “the main character sleeps with a woman” scene and ends with “the main character is still a playboy” scene just to make sure that people can have some 'they are not really gay gay' leverage, if they need it. A subtler version of this is something like SK8, that also includes some ‘girls are hot, aren’t they!’ scenes, yk, just in case.

YoI is the opposite - the only female characters that Victor ever interacts with are Yuuri’s mother, Yuuri’s older sister, Yuuri’s childhood friend (married), Yuuri’s ballet teacher (almost twice his age) and two random characters (the conversation between them only confirms that Victor is indeed gay, as they directly suggest that Victor only plays the role of Yuuri’s coach to get near his dick). Of all these characters (that’s six [6] in total), the only one that Victor has a one-to-one conversation with is Minako. Mila is on his team, as are some other background female characters, but they never interact. Even in the Sochi banquet photos, no girl in Victor’s vicinity, just in case someone could get any ideas.... And of course, he uses gender neutral pronouns when talking about lovers.

Yuuri, though, just doesn’t receive the same treatment - there is of course Yuuko, there is the mysterious music student, who for some reason knew Yuuri well-enough to express his life in music, and there is the other girl, who was clearly very much into him, when he was in Detroit. And of course, there is the last boss that Victor needs to defeat, Chihoko... A few scenes suggest that even Sara may be interested in Yuuri. They could use another gender-neutral word instead, but no, even Victor, first evening in Yuuri's house, asks Yuuri: “is there a girl that you like?" (女の子). Nishigoris also talk about Yuuri still not having a 'girlfriend' (彼女, not a 恋人).

We also have some subtle suggestions that Yuuri actually isn't as inexperienced as he may seem to be for some people - the *wink wink* statement from the creators that Yuuri actually has a romantic love history that is kept ‘top secret’ and Nishigori in ep. 3. suggesting that Yuuri has some experience, even though it's "scarce" (and he's most likely talking about Yuuri in Hasetsu; I can bet that what happens in Detroit, stays in Detroit). Imo, these are not just random funny tidbits about the character - it's all a part of the important lesson the show tries to teach us: stereotypes and judging by appearances lead you to wrong conclusions.

Because of all of this, my personal impression has always been that the creators aren’t at all afraid to suggest Yuuri is into girls, as they clearly are in case of Victor.

Quasi-canon

YoI has very little quasi-canon material (the protectiveness over the characters was probably one of the first things that fascinated me about YoI, because the standard is to push out as much as you can to maximize the profit… That’s also a topic for another discussion, though). The interesting thing is, however, that both (and only) quasi-canon stories touch upon the topic of Yuuri’s bisexuality.

Yuri!!! on STAGE

It’s a story that’s meant to be funny, so are the events in the drama canon to the main story? Of course not. I don’t think, though, that the creators would agree to show the characters in a way that contradicts how the characters are supposed to be in a fundamental way. Imagine they went through all the trouble to make sure that nobody got the wrong idea about Victor, and then there was a story, in which characters, that know him very well, all think that he has a girlfriend. That doesn’t feel right, does it? But that’s exactly what they did for Yuuri.

In the story, they find the writing on Yuuri’s back in Russian: ‘I’ll overcome Chihoko/ I’ll become better than Chihoko’. Yuri P. asks ‘Oi, who this Chihoko hag is?!’, and Chris asks Yuuri: ‘勇利の女?' This is another point scored nicely by the creators, because the word that Chris uses is not “girlfriend” nor “sweetheart”, but “onna/woman”. In this context, it means simply: ‘Is she your mistress?’ == even though it's just a silly story written to make people laugh, they still recognize that Yuuri and Victor are in a relationship, but Chris basically thinks that Yuuri cheats on Victor with a woman. Yurio and Chris assume that Chihoko is a woman, because her name ends with a -ko, but they are gaijins... The story would make perfect sense, if they didn't know a thing about female names in Japan, and simply didn't assume what gender Chihoko is. The whole conversation could be gender-neutral, but the active choice was to make it about a 'woman'.

So, if in Chris’ mind Yuuri wasn’t bi, would he automatically assume that Yuuri cheats on his good friend with a woman, as he did in this story? The reality is that he doesn’t even sound that surprised that Yuuri may have a female lover... Phichit also just goes along with what Chirs suggested. Shouldn't Phichit be more surprised in this situation, if he thought Yuuri wasn't into girls? Victor, on the other hand, is super stressed that there was a woman in Yuuri’s life that was in some ways better than him in Yuuri's opinion, but his lines also don’t suggest in any way that he’s just made a big discovery about Yuuri’s sexuality.

Yuri!!! on FESTIVAL

This is also an interesting one. In the story, Chihoko strikes again – Yuuri explains why they hold the festival in Hasetsu and the word ‘Chihoko’ is part of the name of one of the deities. Hearing that, Victor asks concerned: “女神なのかい/Is this a female deity?”

But... why does it matter to Victor if it’s a male or female god? Would Chihoko be less scary to him if it was a male? Well, to me it sounds like, through this silly story about Chihoko, the creators want to suggest that Victor is afraid of women, specifically, in context of Yuuri.

It's just a crack story, but I’d say that the creators/the writer neatly sneaked some serious topics into it (just like the fact that it was very important for Yuuri to say he wants Victor to just be himself in ep. 4, or how in Yuri on STAGE, one of the jokes is that there is a side of Victor that only Yuuri gets to see = the last few blacked-out seconds of ep. 12). Imo, Victor being afraid that a woman can be better than him may as well be another example of this. (Imagine Yuuri hypothetically decided that he wanted to start a family with a woman, have his own babies etc., then that would be a desire that Victor couldn't fulfill for him as easily, wouldn't it? Like, it's hard for one person to be better than two sexes at once in certain situations, and I'm sure many people in similar circumstances can get anxious if they are 'enough'...) I think that this kind of a suggestion, dressed up as a joke, that Victor is afraid some female Chihoko will come and take Yuuri away from him only makes sense if in the creators' minds Yuuri is bi.

For contrast, in both stories, Yuuri is jealous only of Chris and/or unhappy that Victor wants to show too much skin in public...

That was a very long one, but that's what Tumblr is good for, isn't it? ✨ Thank you for reading, if you have made it this far! All in all, it's 2024... The yaoi tropes will probably never completely disappear, but the 'my uwu baby needs to be 100% pure, no-one (especially a female char) is allowed to taint my yaoi fantasies' mentality really should just die out, it's not healthy and female characters are not something that should be feared😭

So, have I missed something (I probably have)? Opinions? Different interpretations? It's always nice to discuss stuff ~✨

[rough-handss]

just some thoughts about pierresteban because no one stands me talking about them anymore

@starlightiing posted about how reserved este normally is and how much he was open this weekend to pierre and thats so so true! I cant stop thinking about my theory (sorry not sorry for being insane) about why they fell off

because yeah, este barely talks about them but when he does its always so intense, its how they are so important, how he wouldn’t be there without pierre, it’s the two boys from normandie… i also think about how he’s the one most distant, considering pierre and charles.

one interview, when questioned about pierre, he started of by saying “my dad….” and then switched off to talk about pierre and him…….. in pierre’s diary when he was younger he also talks about how, when they were 14 or so, este’s dad disqualified him from a race (there was more context), and pierre always saying he tried to mend things between them but it never worked, este never wanted it. and pierre said he never truly understood.

I think he didn’t want to be distant, to fight like this against pierre. they were friends. this is not something that breaks so easily…. i think they stopped being friends because este’s dad said he had to stop being friends with him to get where he wanted. afterall, they gave everything up for him and he should also give up everything for them, paying them back by being extremely dedicated, by not having friends, just rivals. which also explains why he fights with almost everyone. kill or be killed, and the first thing he killed was his friendship with pierre…. but its still there, like an open wound

who would have thought back in the days formula 1 would have space for both of them….! and who would have thought back in the days it would have space for both of them on the podium… side by side, same team, same uniform… a children’s dream come true. i think este let himself hold to this dream and to enjoy it, even if it was only for a day, they did it together.

este would never talk anything bad about his family, who gave up from so much to be living his dream, who gave him everything he needed. he would never explain to pierre it was his dad that made him go away , he would never say to his dad how much that friendship with pierre was important.

[ladyloveandjustice]

And finally, the second and final part of this fic has arrived. It's long. So much longer than I thought it would be. God I got so carried away with the conversations and it took forever. Turned into a monster. But it's finally done. Again, not as funny as I'd like, but hopefully a little cute.

Thank you to @schrodingersauthorii for saying something in the comments to my post that inspired some of this second part!

Part 2

The atmosphere of the meet was a lot nicer than he expected. The other students were kind to him, many complementing them on his sports day performance. The team members and Coach Sakuragi were less, well, mean to each other than the team he’d briefly been part of, cheering each on rather than acting sullen when anyone outperformed them. The coach at his old school had always responded to any mistake with a torrent of frustrated criticism that made Natsume tremble in shame. But Sakuragi never acted disappointed or angry. She came off like she was giving friendly suggestions, and she pointed out what they were doing well at lot too. The team responded to her advice eagerly, rather than fearing her.

It was nice, and Natsume almost wished he was the kind of person who could be a part of this. But he knew himself too well. He’d feel terrible each time he missed out due to being sick or waylaid by yokai. And that would happen a lot. The nicer these people were, the worse he’d feel about letting them down. It didn’t matter if they were fine with it, he wouldn’t be. And to be honest, even if he liked his teammates, he didn’t like thinking about huge crowds watching him, he didn’t like the idea of watching other people cry in frustration when he beat them, any of it.

So when Sakuragi asked him if he wanted to do a practice run with the others, he agreed, all while planning to run much slower than usual. He’d explain to her after that the performance on sports day was a fluke, and he usually wasn’t that fast, and there was no way he’d be able to pull it off consistently. Sakuragi would hopefully stop wanting him to join the team, and even if she still asked him, she and the others wouldn’t feel bad when he turned her down.

He took a deep breath, as he stood at the starting line, closing his eyes and blocking the gaze of Sakuragi and the other students out. If he didn’t imagine a yokai was chasing him, running slower was pretty manageable, and he was experienced enough with doing it in phys ed that he knew he could pull it off without looking like he was holding back. It would be fine. He’d be fine.

He got himself into position, taking off when Coach blasted the whistle. He lagged way behind the others, while doing his best to look like he was really giving his all. It was going pretty well, he thought, until he looped around on the track and saw a yokai directly in his path.

It wasn’t a big one, not even coming up to Natsume’s knee. It was black, so it had blended in well with the track. It was sort of blobby and shapeless in form, like an inkstain, with beady eyes and a wiggly head.

Natsume’s heart raced and his mouth went dry. It might look small, but he knew better than anyone not to trust a yokai’s appearance. It could be dangerous. Was it here to get the Book of Friends, or was it trying to do something to the people here? It didn’t matter. He had to do something. He couldn’t just slow down, that would give it time to attack

Instead, he vaulted over the creature. His ankle twisted under him when he landed. He fell, knees and hands scraping the ground. He immediately sprang to his feet and ran as fast he could. He had to lead it away from everyone else.

His sneakers pounded on the rubber and intense vibrations raced through him with each step. It felt like his bones were shuddering. Somone was calling his name, but it was muffled and distant, everything was. He has no room in his brain for anything but his goal. I have to protect the people here. I have to protect the Book of Friends. He crossed the finish line and veered into the grass, ready to grab his bag and sprint out of school grounds. But he looked over his shoulder, he saw the blobby yokai hadn’t moved after him at all. It had simply flattened and spread out on the ground. It’s eyes were closed.

Was it…taking a nap?

Relief filled Natsume as he skidded to a stop. Yes, it was sleeping. Its breathing was even, and as sounds came back to him, he could hear some faint snoring. But he also heard something else, which was Coach Sakuragi screaming at him.

“NATSUME! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? WHY WOULD YOU RUN ON A SPRAINED ANKLE?” She shouted while running toward him.

Sprained…? Natsume looked down and saw his ankle was swelling. Suddenly, intense pain shot through his leg, his ankle folded under him, and crumpled. Sakuragi caught him under his arms before he could hit the ground. She lifted him up easily.

 Wow, she’s strong, Natsume thought dazedly. Bet I look pretty pathetic right now. He could see students had gathered around to stare at him, expressions worried or shocked. One girl called “Are you okay??”

“Y-yeah,” he said as his mind screamed in humiliation.

Sakuragi could have probably carried him, but thankfully she chose to simply pull his arm over shoulder. “Don’t stand on that ankle, keep it raised.” She commanded. She turned to the cluster of team members. “We need the chairs, the ice bag from the cooler, and the first aid kit. Go get them.”

The student’s responded quickly, three of them running off.

Soon they all came back with all the supplies, including two folding chairs. Sakuragi eased him into a chair. Natsume couldn’t help groaning in pain when a student propped up his leg on the chair in front of him, resting his ankle on a folded towel.

Natsume hated that he was disrupting the entire track meet and making so many people fuss over him, but he knew protesting would be ungrateful, so he softly thanked the other students instead. They smiled back at him.

Sakuragi placed the ice bag on his ankle. Natsume sighed in relief as the numbing cold broke through the pain.

 Sakuragi bent down to examine his foot. “It don’t think it’s broken, but you’re going to need to check it with a hospital. It’s badly sprained because of all the weight you put on it. Hopefully you didn’t tear the ligament completely.”

“A-a hospital?” Natsume’s stomach dropped. That was really going to worry Touko and Shigeru. He felt so stupid, putting them through all this because a harmless yokai was taking a nap.

Sakuragi straightened up and clapped her hands. “Okay, this isn’t a show, people. Give us some space and get back to practice.”

The team dispersed, and Sakuragi crossed her arms, frowning down at him. Natsume winced, thinking she was going to yell again. Instead, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “Natsume.” she said calmly. “I don’t understand what you were thinking. This was just a practice run. Your first one, too.  I’ve seen students try to run on injuries before, but this wasn’t even an actual race!”

Natsume’s looked at his ankle, which was rapidly turning purple, burning with shame. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“You don’t have to apologize. I just want to know what’s going on. Why did you run on that ankle?”

“I-I didn’t do it on purpose. It was just kind of…instinct?” Natsume said. He instantly realized that how weird that sounded, and so, apparently, did Sakuragi.

“Instinct?” Her frown deepened and her eyebrows drew together. “Your instinct is to keep running even when you’re hurt?”

“No, no, it’s not like that, I’m just used to—!” He snapped his mouth shut.

What was wrong with him? He was usually better at covering things up. He’d almost said he was used to having to run while injured. He’d twisted his ankle running from yokai plenty of times, and at some point he’d learned to just block out the pain until he got to safety. But obviously he couldn’t tell the coach that.  He desperately searched for another way to end the sentence, but before he could, the coach bent over, looking him directly in the eye.

“Natsume, you looked very frightened when that “instinct” kicked in. Like you were being chased down. Are you used to being chased? Is it something that happens a lot?”

Natsume’s blood froze. Did she know? Why? How? What was going on? His ankle was throbbing so badly now, it was hard to think the haze of pain. His breathing got faster, his ears buzzed… He had to say something, anything to throw her off…

 Sakuragi put her hand gently on his shoulder, “Natsume, you can tell me anything. Is it someone who goes to this school? Or even more than one person? Have they been hurting you? I know it’s scary to talk about it, but I promise I can help--”

Natsume’s shoulders slumped as relief flooded him. She’d was asking if people were chasing him. Obviously she’d meant people.  What was wrong with him? Sure, his ankle felt like it was being hit repeatedly with a giant hammer, but that was no excuse to lose his head.

Doing his best to come off as relaxed, he said “Oh, It’s not like that, Sensei, you don’t need to worry. People don’t chase me at all anymore.”

Sakuragi narrowed her eyes. “Anymore?”

He clearly should just stop talking forever. Maybe he’d sprained his brain along with his ankle.

Yes, he’d been chased by people, of course he had. And not just enthusiastic track coaches. He’d had to run away from plenty of classmates looking to teach the liar a lesson. Running from bullies was usually a lot easier than running from most yokai though, since people eventually tired out. He’d only been caught a few times.

At least this slip up didn’t put his secret in danger, it just made every inch of him cringe. He didn’t want to talk about any of this with her. But he had to make her understand everything was okay. Even if it meant embarrassing himself.

“Sensei, ever since I moved here, things have been so much better. People are so kind to me, my friends are amazing, the Fujiwaras are so warm and giving…” He ducked his head, unable to meet her eyes. “I feel like I belong here. Actually belong.  I’m happier than I ever thought I could be….”

Sakuragi was listening to him intently, and when he trailed off, she smiled at him. “I’m glad to hear that. Sorry for the interrogation.”

She took some bandages out of the first aid kit and started wrapping his ankle with a steady practiced hand. “It sounds running is really connected to some… difficult experiences for you. I’m a teacher who’s supposed to look out for you. I shouldn’t have pressured you to run. I should have considered your feelings. I apologize.”

“No no,, it’s not your fault Sensei, you’re honestly the nicest track coach I’ve ever—"

But his reassurance was cut off by a shout, “Natsume! What happened?!”

Natsume looked over his shoulder, and saw Nishimura, Tanuma, Taki, Kitamoto and Sasada all coming around the corner of school building

 What the heck are they doing here? His stomach dropped at the expressions of worry on their faces. Nishimura led the pack as they rushed toward him.

“How did you get hurt already?!” Nishimura exploded the second he was within talking range. “It’s been fifteen minutes since school let out! Fifteen! I bet you were doing some kind of crazy thing again, don’t you realize-?”

“Nishimura, calm down,” Kitamoto said, smacking him on the shoukder. “But seriously, Natsume, what happened?”

“I—"

“Did somebody trip you?” Sasada asked, fixing the scattered team members with a hawklike glare while they looked baffled in response.  “Are there bullies here?”

“No—”

“It’s not broken, is it?” Nishimura was wincing as the looked at the ankle. “It looks so swollen—”

“Guys!” Taki cut him off. “Why don’t we stop freaking out and let Natsume get a word in edgewise?”

“Well said. I know you’re worried, give him the chance to explain,” Sakuragi said in a slightly amused tone.

Nishimura, Sasada, and Kitamoro jolted, like they hadn’t noticed the teacher before.

“Sorry, Sensei,” Sasada said immediately, bowing her head,

“I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to yell at you, Natsume,” Nishimura mumbled.

Tanuma, who’d been quietly watching, stepped up and put his hand on Natsume’s shoulder. It was a timid, gentle touch, but Natsume could feel the weight of Tanuma’s concern through it. He smiled reassuringly at him, and then looked at the others.

“I just tripped, guys, that’s really all. I was doing a practice run and I stumbled and twisted my ankle. Though I uh, also…” He was going to freak them out if he told them he’d kept running on it, and he wasn’t sure how he’d explain it, but—

“He also bumped it a bit while I was guiding him to his chair,” Sakuragi cut him off, giving him a small smile. “That one was my fault.”

Natsume blinked at her, shocked she’d covered for him. She shook her head at him slightly as if to say ‘just this once’.

“See, Nishimura?” Kitamoto elbowed him. “You of all people can’t be mad at him for tripping!”

“Yeah…” Nishimura said sheepishly. “Sorry…”

“No, I’m really sorry for worrying you all,” Natsume said, guilt racing through him. “But, uh, what are you guys even doing here?

“We wanted to support you. The plan was just to meet you when you were done and walk home together,” Taki said gently.

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you before,” Tanuma squeezed Natsume’s shoulder slightly, looking bashful. “You just seemed kind of stressed about it, and I was a little… It was a last minute decision. I was thinking if you wanted to, we could even hang out at my place. I probably overstepped”.

‘It was one of those times his friend’s kindness and care filled him up so much he thought he would burst. Those times where he  wondered how he’d found people like them after all these years. When he ached to give them even a fragment of what they’re given him.

“No…” Natsume said, hoping he didn’t sound choked up, “No, I would have liked that, thanks.”

“That’s really sweet,” Sakuragi said with a grin, resuming with wrapping Natsume’s ankle. But then her grin dropped, and she looked at Nishimura questioningly. “Does he get hurt a lot?”

“Kind of. It’s all because he’s reckless, Sensei. He doesn’t think things through!”

“A lot of time he’s trying to help someone, though,” Tanuma said hastily. “It’s not his fault, really.”

 “You always go way too easy oh him, Tanuma. But yeah, he’ll do things like shove a girl out of the way when a bunch of heavy boxes are falling on her and get conked in the head. He’s too good a guy—"

“Come on, you’re embarrassing him,” Taki admonished, which immediately silenced Nishimura.

Sakuragi seemed to relax at this, and she finished up wrapping Natsume’s ankle. “Ok! Now, can one of you go fetch crutches from the nurse’s office?” Sakuragi took a key out of the first aid box and tossed at Nishimura, who caught it with a startled expression. Kitamoto went with him. Sasada looked around awkwardly, and then did a double take.

“Chiyo, what are you doing here?” Sasada’s hand immediately jumped to her hair, and she started twirling a lock around her finger.

The short-haired girl walked up, wiping her neck with a towel and flashing Sasada a crooked grin. “The track team lets me practice with them sometimes. Gotta train to beat you next time. What this I hear about you threatening everyone and calling them bullies?”

“I didn’t—”

“Oh, now I remember, Natsume, that’s your friend, no wonder you were all aggro!”  Chiyo waved at Natsume, who waved awkwardly back. “Sorry she’s so overprotective, man. She means well.”

“You—come on!” Sasada grabbed the other girl’s hand and dragged her away. Chiyo looked unreasonably happy about this.

Sakuragi had stepped away to chat with some other students too. Taki squatted next to Natsume and Tanuma leaned closer to him.

“Was there yokai trouble?” Tanuma whispered.

Natsume shook his head. “Not really. I basically overreacted. I saw a little yokai on the track, freaked out because I thought it was dangerous, and tripped. It’s harmless, though. It was just napping. I feel pretty stupid.”

“Did anyone notice anything?”

“Yeah, they noticed I was acting really weird. Especially Coach Sakuragi. She’s…intense.”

“Oh, I should have thought about that and warned you about that.” Taki sighed. “It’s really hard to keep a secret from her, especially if she thinks you’re struggling. Her heart’s in the right place, though.”

Natsume nodded. “I can tell. I feel bad that I worried her. I ended up saying some bizarre things while I was trying to throw her off. I think she thinks I’m traumatized from my childhood or something now.”

Tanuma cleared his throat and looked away. Taki studied her shoes carefully.

“Uh, what’s wrong?” Natsume asked, trying to figure out if he’s said anything strange.

“Nothing,” Taki said quickly. “Hey, what does the little yokai look like?”  She looked off in the wrong direction.

 “Oh, uh…kind of blob-like…” he squinted at the sleeping yokai, examining it more closely. “Oh wow, I couldn’t pick it out before but it has ears actually, Oh, they’re kind of shaped like cat ears…”

Takis gasped excitedly “Is it cute?”

“Uh…maybe ugly cute?”

“Then it’s cute,” Taki said firmly. “I wish I could see it.”

Natsume suddenly realized that it was probably for the best Taki couldn’t see yokai, otherwise she’d be terrorizing every weird looking little monster non-stop.

Tanuma looked around at the team members looping the track, as others chatted and laughed on the sidelines. “Were you having a good time with everyone? You know, before everything happened?”

“Yeah…it was nice. Everyone was really great. I feel bad I ruined things.”

“You didn’t—"

“We’re back!” Kitamoto and Nishimura arrived carrying the crutches.

A shock of pain went up Natsume’s leg like lightningn when Tanuma and Sakuragi eased him onto his crutches, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to cry out. He couldn’t worry everyone even more.

“Okay, you’re good to go now. But make sure your parents to get you checked at the hospital right away. I will be asking Ms. Fujiwara about that our weekly grocery store chats.”

Natsume nodded meekly, filled with dread at the thought of Touko’s panic and distress. At the same time, he noticed she’d called the Fujiwaras his parents…not foster parents or guardians…just parents. It kind of felt nice. Really nice.

Sasada was still talking with Chiyo, laughing and swatting at her playfully. She noticed that Natsume was up, and reluctantly pulled away, giving Chiyo’s hand a quick squeeze before she left.

Sakuragi smiled as Sasada rejoined the group, observing all of Natsume’s friends clustered around him. “Take care of him, all right?”

“Don’t worry, Sensei, we won’t let anything happen to him,” Nishimura said confidently.

“We’ve got his back!” Kitamoto assured her.

“He helps us a lot. It’s the least we can do.” Tanuma chimed in unexpectedly.

“Of course!” Sasada and Taki finished things off.

Natsume stared at the ground, hoping nobody could see the expression on his face. Taki patted him on the shoulder.

“You’re right, you do have good friends.” Sakuragi ruffled Natsume’s hair. “Do you need me to get you a ride home? Or can your parents come get you?”

“Oh, it’s fine, I can just walk.”

“You’re seriously going to try to hobble all the way to the Fujiwaras?” Taki said severely.

“Okay, maybe to the bus stop…”

“That’s not coming for another hour,” Sasada tapped her watch. “You can’t wait that long.”

“The Fujiwaras don’t have a car, right?” Nishimura said. “My parents have a car, and Mom should be home. I’ll call her to pick us up.” He pulled out his battered cellphone, glaring at it. “If I can ever get service in this stupid town…can’t believe I begged for a phone and it’s useless…”

“Nishimura, no, I don’t want to drag your Mom into this…” Natsume said in a panic. “I really can just—”

“Natsume.” Tanuma said quietly but firmly, holding out his arm in front of him before he could hobble away. Natsume’s voice died in his throat.

“My Mom would be mad at me if I didn’t call her about this” Nishimura held his phone high in the air, face screwed up in concentration.

“Oh yeah, that’s right, you get your nosiness from her,” Kitamoto said lightly.

“Man, shut up. Aha! I got some bars!”  And just like that, Nishimura was on the phone with his Mom, and Natsume could do nothing to protest it.

Sakuragi laughed and started to turn away. “Great, I’ll see you—"

“Sensei, wait,” Natsume called quickly.

 She stopped, looking at him questioningly.

“I just wanted I wanted to say, I did have fun here. And, well, I don’t think I can join the team but…would it be all right if I came here once in a while? Just to practice, or I could help with whatever… unless that’s…

Sakuragi’s face split into a huge grin. “Of course, Natsume! Just having someone like you to race against is a huge help! But are you sure you--?”

Natsume nodded. “I want to.”

“Well then, do your best to heal up and we’ll look forward to seeing you.”

Nishimura got off the phone. “Mom said to out front.”

Waving goodbye to Sakuragi, Natsume’s friends flanked him as he slowly made his way around the school building.

“I’m happy for you, Natsume,” Taki said.

“Yeah, that’s cool!” Kitamoto agreed.

Thanks,” Natsume said. “I’m sorry I ruined the plans to get snacks and hang out…but maybe we could do it another time? Touko would probably be okay with you all coming over.”

“Of course!”

They all busied themselves planning  the get-together until they reached the bench out front, though Nishimura was oddly quiet.

After Natsume sat down, his friends gave their well wishes and reminded him to check in with them after the hospital, before dispersing to walk home. Taki caught up with Sasada and as they walked away, Natsume heard her say “So you and that Chiyo girl, huh? Do I detect some romance?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sasada said primly.

“Come on, it’s me. Come over to my place and tell me all about it.

“Fiiiine, if I must.”

Natsume laughed slightly. He looked over at Nishimura to see his reaction, but for once in his life, he didn’t seem interested in what Taki was doing. He was staring stonily into the distance.

“Nishimura, is something wrong--?”

“I’m sorry, Natsume,” he said abruptly, still not really looking at him.

“Huh? What are you sorry about?” He wondered if Nishimura was still feeling guilty about yelling earlier, and was prepared to reassure him, but—

“You’re hurt because of me.”

“What? What are you even talking about?” Natsume couldn’t help but laugh but stopped when Nishimura glared at him.

“It’s because of me. You don’tlike  running in front of people, I know that, but then you had to because I screwed up. And when you were talking to the coach, I could tell you were nervous, I could tell you didn’t want to go. And instead of returning the favor and helping you, I pushed you to do it anyway.” He put his head in his hands. “It was such shitty thing to do.”

“Nishimura, come on, you didn’t--

“I did. You were trying to say no, you can’t pretend you weren’t.” He dragged his hands down his face. “I just…got carried away because you were so cool when you won the race! And you’re kind of down on yourself sometimes,…so I thought maybe if you joined the track team, you’d see how amazing  what you can do is and people would see you’re…ugh, it was stupid.”

Natsume’s cheeks burned. “That’s.. it sounds like you were thinking of me, Nishimura, thank you—"

“No, don’t thank me!” Nishimura said fiercely. “I wasn’t considering your feelings at all, I just decided what I wanted for you without asking you.  I didn’t think things through. And God, I didn’t even think about injuries!”

Natsume stared at him in bafflement. “Why would you need to think about injuries? It’s not like I need special protection. I knew what I was getting into. People get hurt in sports all the time. It’s normal.”

“No, it’s different with you.” Nishimura slammed his hands down on knees, red blotches spreading on his face. “Because when you get hurt, you downplay it or try to hide it, and if you do that in track, it can mess you up for life!” Nishimura was talking faster and faster, the words just pouring out of his mouth “It’s dangerous because you act like it doesn’t matter, like you don’t matter, and you don’t get why we all care so much, and I know it’s because you’ve been through a lot and I don’t want to pry, but it makes me so---"

He stopped short, blanching. “Oh shit. I didn’t mean to say all that. U-uh, sorry, just forget it, It’s none of my business…”

A lump formed in Natsume’s throat as shame welled up, hot and bitter on his tongue. “No, I’m sorry, Nishimura,” he said hoarsely. “I didn’t realize you were thinking all that, that you were worried. I never wanted to—”

“Natsume, no, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. I know it’s not on purpose, I know it’s not your fault.” Nishimura pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is about me saying sorry, not you. I really am sorry. And I know you told Sakuragi you wanted to come back once in a while because you didn’t want to disappoint her, but you don’t have to go back there, I’ll talk to her—"

“You don’t have to talk to her.” Natsume swallowed his shame for now, determined to set things straight. “I liked the team. I really do want to come back.”

“You don’t have to pretend, I told you, don’t lie if you don’t have to—”

“Nishimura,” Natsume interjected gently, putting his hand on the other boy’s shoulder. Nishimura finally looked over at him, eyes downcast. “It made me really happy. When we won, and everyone was cheering, and I saw how excited you were…I don’t know. Running is just something I do sometimes, and I don’t think it’s special or particularly like it. But being able to help you was the first time I felt like it was something…more.” More than survival. More than something I’m forced to do.

“Really…?” Nishimura hesitated, looking disbelieving.

“Really. And I really am glad I came here. I enjoyed it, you know, until I tripped. But even then, everyone was nice and helped me. It made me want to come back.”

Nishimura stared at him for a while, expression unreadable. Then he sighed and leaned back. “Okay, well, good.” Natsume could see Nishimura’s shoulders slump as the tension drained out of him. “But I still pushed you. You don’t have to make excuses for me. I’m just sorry I did it and I won’t do it again.”

“Okay, apology accepted.”

Nishimura looked startled, like he’d expected Natsume to keep fighting him on this, then his face broke into a grin. “Thanks, man.”

“You don’t have to make excuses for me either. I’m sorry I’ve been stressing you guys out when I get hurt. I’ll stop hiding it or trying to downplay it. I mean, I do want all of you to understand I…” Natsume knew better than to say he was “used to it” now, so he searched around for a less alarming but still honest way to phrase it. “I have a high pain tolerance, so sometimes it really doesn’t seem like a big deal.”

“Dude, that doesn’t make me feel better.” He could tell from how Nishimura looked at him he’d heard the “I’m used to it” even though Natsume hadn’t said it out loud.

“No, I know. Look, from now on, I’ll admit when something hurts.” He looked down at his ankle, wincing. “Like my ankle really hurts right now. I don’t want to go to the hospital but I’m kind of looking forward to getting painkillers.” He looked over at Nishimura. “Did that work? Or did it just sound whiney?”

“Nah, you need to whine a little more, man.” Nishimura punched him lightly on the arm. “I’m telling you, it feels good. When I sprained my ankle a couple years ago, I whined to everyone I knew. That whine was weak. Try harder.”

“It’s…uh, agony. I…might die? Was that good.”

“You need to work on your delivery, but it’s a start.”

They both laughed. Just laughing soothed something in Natsume, his stomach unknotted, and his racing heartbeat slowed. His ankle even hurt a little less.

When the laughter settled, Natsume looked down, twisting his fingers in his lap. “Look, I know I… kind of lie and hide things as reflex a lot. But I’ve been trying to be more open with the people I care about.”

Nishimura shrugged. “It’s fine. I mean, Kitamoto and I aren’t that stupid, we know there’s something going on with you, but you can take as much time as you need. I know you must have your reasons.”

“Thanks.”

Nishimura chuckled suddenly, looking past Natsume.

“Uh oh, here comes your cat. He looks mad! It’s almost like he knows something happened.”

Nyanko-sensei was indeed stomping towards them, his eyes narrowed.

“Agh, I’m really in trouble this time,” Natsume said. Nyanko-sensei jumped into his lap, making sure to throw his heavy weight around as he landed. “Oof.”

“Oh, your troubles have just begun. Don’t forget Touko!” Nishimura said cheerfully.

“Like I could.”

“I wouldn’t use the “I could die” line on her, she might believe you.”

“Amazing advice, thank you.”

Nishimura smirked. “I’d tell you to run, but, you know.”

Mmm…” Natsume said, stroking Nyanko-sensei, who was making faint, irritated noises. “That’s okay. There are some things I don’t want to run away from”.

---

And that's that! f i n a l l y. I'll add it to the running post, make a post with the complete thing, add it to ao3 etc later!

Running the Gauntlet: A Natsume Yuujinchou fanfic (Part 1)

Part 1 of my fanfic based on the idea I had in this post about Natsume's running abilities making his life at school difficult that blew up.

Includes a couple silly footnotes!

Running the Gauntlet

“I wish Natsume wasn’t our anchor,” a classmate complained.

Natsume flinched. It’s not like I wanted to be, he thought glumly. He pretended he hadn’t heard, hunching over and tying this shoe. So many students and teachers milling around on the grass, waiting for the big event, whoever it was probably hadn’t noticed he was nearby.

But then, Nishimura’s response made him feel even worse.

“Man, shut up. You haven’t really seen Natsume run. He’s friggin’ fast. We’re lucky to have him.”

Natsume appreciated Nishimura standing up for him, but inwardly he was screaming at him to please stop talking about this.

Then Kitamoto chimed in, “Yeah, one of the first times we saw him outside of school, he basically dashed out of the woods at warp speed. So don’t be rude.”

He saw Kitamoto glance quickly at him, clearly aware might be in earshot.

“Fast? Come on you two, I know he’s your friend, but the guy is sickly. You’re expecting me to believe someone who collapses every other day is a good runner? I’m not saying he’s a bad guy, I’m just not counting on him to win this”. The classmate, who rarely spoke to Natsume, adjusted his glasses.

“You’ll see,” Nishimura said smugly.

Natsume groaned inwardly, straightening up.

He eyed the various students hanging out in different colored headbands, the boy handing out water bottles from the tent, and some teachers talking off to the side.  There was even a chattering crowd on the small set of bleachers. A crowd that included parents.

But worst of all was the looping black track, sizzling in the sun before him. He, Nishimura, and the rest who’d been chosen for the relay race would be lining up on it soon.

He hated Sports Day.

To be fair, this was his least hated sports day so far. He’d never actually experienced sports day while having friends before. When he was a kid, he could expect being pushed to the ground and mocked, or having classmates complaining loudly to teachers about being paired up with the liar. Best case scenario was he’d merely have to feel lonely as he was left out of class celebrations, watching parents and friends cheer others on when there was no one to cheer for him.

But this year he’d been able to cheer wildly for Taki during the bean bag toss, laugh at Tanuma as he was forced to dance awkwardly with the rest of his class during their group performance, and smile as Tanuma got some sweet revenge by beating him at the scavenger hunt. He’d gotten to high five Kitamoto and Nishimura after every victory, and even Sasada once.

So many parents being here was still a little intimidating, though. He kept expecting one of them to yell at him to get away from their kid, even though he knew it wasn’t like that anymore. The Fujiwaras hadn’t been able to come, as they had a relative’s wedding to attend today. Natsume hadn’t even told them today was sports day, because he didn’t want them to feel bad about it. He was also kind of relieved they couldn’t come, because he would have been even more nervous if they were watching.

Overall, it had been a good day. He was basically enjoying himself.

But there was no getting over the dread of his biggest obstacle yet—the relay race. He was really going to have to pay attention to his running. It was such a tough balance…he didn’t want to let down the class, but he also needed to think of…

“Natsume, are you okay?” He blinked, noticing Sasada was suddenly next to him. “You were spacing out a bit.”

“I’m fine! Actually, are you okay?” She looked pale, and she kept fiddling with her glasses. It was strange to see her without the usual air of confidence.

“I’m nervous,” she admitted. She’d been chosen for the relay race too, and was looking at the track with almost as much trepidation as he was.

“Sasada! Natsume!”  Nishimura ran forward before Natsume could reassure her. “It’s all up to us!”

“Yay,” Sasada said blandly.

“Whar’a wrong, Sasada?” Nishimura grinned smugly at her “Worried you’re gonna be the sports day cliché?”

“The…what?”

“You’ve seen it on TV, right? In anime and stuff? There’s always the one person who trips during the relay race. They scramble to their feet, tears in their eyes, and pass off their baton…” Nishimura imitated the gesture dramatically. “But don’t worry! You can trip all you want, I’m so fast it won’t matter! No need to be nervous!”

Sasada shook her head, putting her glasses back on. “You know what, your stupidity has calmed my nerves a bit, thank you,”

“Glad to be of service.”

---

Considering all that, Natsume wasn’t exactly surprised when Nishimura was the one who tripped.

Natsume winced when his friend went down, hoping he wasn’t hurt. It would be okay, right? Nishimura was so good-humored. This wasn’t a big deal or anything. He’d just laugh it off and…

Nishimura stumbled up, his knee bleeding, his face burning with shame. Natsume could see his eyes were brimming with tears. Of course he was devastated. Nishimura may act carefree, but he hated letting people down.

Natsume sighed.

Fine then.

“Nishimura!” He called out, offering his hand. “Don’t give up! I’ve got this!”

Nishimura’s face lit up instantly. He jogged as fast as he could and slammed the baton in Natsume’s hand. Natsume faced forward. The others had a massive head start, but that wasn’t enough to make him give up.

A yokai is chasing me, he told himself. A big one with sharp teeth.

And next thing he knew, he was crossing the finish line.

Cheers exploded around him as the other runners caught up, lagging after him. And then, suddenly, what seemed to be the entire class was rushing towards him. He had to resist the urge to put his hands up defensively.

Nishimura slammed into him from the side, embracing him. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he was whooping and laughing. Heat spread up Natsume’s neck and face. It was the first time Nishimura had ever hugged him. Or cried so openly in front of him. He knew it was considered fine for guys to cry and hug only when it involved sports for some reason, but it was still a surprise.  He wasn’t used to that kind of intimacy. Not that it was bad. It was kind of nice.

 The rest of his class gathered around him, yelling things like “way to go” and “that was amazing!” Even Sasada, her face still red and sweaty from her run, was screaming her head off and jumping up and down. Kitamoto clapped Natsume on the back and soon several classmates followed suit. Natsume was sure a red handprint was permanently etched on his back now.

“Dude, I knew you were fast, but I didn’t know you were that fast!!” Nishimura yelled through his tears.

“Seriously, do you have a secret running regimen I don’t know about, or is it just natural talent?” Kitamoto said.

Natsume heard some more cheering explode behind him, and looked over his shoulder to see an uncharacteristically excited Tanuma waving at him from the other side of the track, “Congrats, Natsume!”

“Tanuma, you could at least… pretend to care… that our class lost,” said the boy Natsume had gone up against, still doubled over and panting.

“Sorry.”

There was loud whistle from the stands and Natsume saw it came from Taki. The girl next to her had covered her ears. Taki didn’t notice, and let out another impressively strong blast, waving at him. She removed her knuckles from her mouth and shouted “Woo, Natsume!”

Natsume was torn between being happy his friends supported him and so embarrassed he could die.

“I owe you an apology, Natsume,” said the boy with the glasses, whoever he was.

“Hell yeah you do!” Nishimura responded.

“Nishimura…” Kitamoto’s said scoldingly, his eyes flicking to Sasada.

“Ah…I’m sorry too, Sasada,” Nishimura said sincerely. “You really showed me.” (Sasada had been fast enough to give Nishimura a head start, as Natsume suspected she would be, she’d certainly caught up to him out of nowhere plenty of times in the early days of their relationship).

Sasada wasn’t listening, she was looking at a fit girl with short black hair from another class, who was also still panting from the race. “How about that, Chiyo!” she called over to her.

“You win this one, but I’ll get you next time, Jun! Just you wait!” Chiyo called with a matching huge grin and an excited look in her eyes. For some reason Sasada blushed delicately in response*.

“Okay, okay, give him some room to breathe,” Kitamoto said, shooing at the others. They all stepped back, though Nishimura remained by Natsume’s side. Natsume was grateful for Kitamoto, he was dizzy and overwhelmed. He’d had no idea races like this were such a big deal to people. He was more grateful than ever the Fujiwaras weren’t here to add on to all this.

“Look Natsume!” Sasada had finally torn her eyes away from the other girl and was pointing at the stands. “Even the track coach looks impressed!”

“No wonder, you’re faster than half her team,” Kitamoto said. “Bet she tries to recruit you!”

Natsume’s stomach dropped like a stone. Indeed, the track coach, a woman with short brown hair and sharp eyes, was looking at him with interest. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of. His personal hell had returned. Had winning a measly race been worth it?

Natsume looked over at Nishimura, who was still jumping up and down and hollering about how he was going to treat Kitamoto, Sasada and Natsume to some manju, not even minding when Kitamoto snarked at him about it how it must be a cold day in hell if the man who sponged off everyone was paying the tab for once. He flashed Natsume another ecstatic grin, and Natsume smiled back.

Yeah, it had been worth it.

--

Natsume had experienced a lot of reoccurring horrors, but the most annoying of them was being hounded by track coaches at every school he went to.

Apparently, spending most of his life running from yokai had made him faster than the average person. He’d been unaware of this until his first year of middle school. When it came time to run the track, Natsume had heard whispers around him, a couple of the kids placing bets on when he’d collapse. One boy had even smacked him on the shoulder and screamed “The liar’s gonna come in dead last!” in his ear.

Natsume hadn’t really done much racing against other kids on the playground, and he’d been sick during a lot of gym classes, so he’d also figured he’d struggle against the other kids. It had completely shocked everyone, himself included, when he blew past them all with ease. He’d reached the finish line only to find the other kids several feet behind him, panting and gawking.

The gym teacher’s eyes had gone wide, and he’d immediately started urging Natsume to join the track club. The man had even gone to Natsume’s current guardians about it.

His guardians had resented that he was getting attention while their real kid was an overlooked benchwarmer on the baseball team. They’d thrown lots of snide comments Natsume’s way. And…well, he hadn’t had a good time on the track team at all. When he’d inevitably had to move again after those same guardians got tired of him, leaving the track club behind had been the silver lining.

Upon transferring to a new school, he’d decided to keep his speed under wraps. But then a coach noticed him running when he was late for class one day and his troubles started all over again. At first he’d avoided the coach by coming up with excuses about responsibilities or detention or headaches, but eventually he was just reduced to hiding under the bleachers when he saw the man.

At another school, a coach tried to recruit him for her team SO aggressively he’d made the stupid mistake of running away when he saw her—and naturally, seeing how fast he could book it had just increased her interest.

So, when he was gathering up all the extra water bottles from the hydration station tent at end of the day, and saw the track coach approach him, his heart started pounding, He fought back his urge to bolt, even a flashbacks filled his brain.

“Natsume, right? I’m Sakuragi, if you don’t remember,” The woman had a wide, genuine smile. He’d only spoken to her a few times, but he was pretty sure she was Taki’s homeroom teacher. “You showed some impressive hustle today! Have you ever thought of joining the track team?”

Fortunately, Natsume had his excuses pre-prepared. “Oh wow, that’s such an honor, Sensei!” He said, continuing to gather up the water bottles while still maintaining polite eye contact. “But, you see, I get sick very easily, so joining a team is a bad idea. I’d just end up being absent a lot, and I’d let the team down.”

“That’s not a problem.” To his horror, the teacher bent down and started picking up the water bottles herself.

“You don’t have to trouble yourself—” He began quickly, but she cut him off, saying “ I’d never require you to come in when you’re not feeling well. You wouldn’t need to worry about calling out sick. We’re a fairly large team, so other students can easily sub in for you if you can’t make a race.”

What kind of laid back track team was this? Never mind, Natsume had a backup excuse. “Well, that’s great, but I’m also concerned about making trouble for my foster parents. It’s a lot to ask them, and I don’t want to put them out. I’d be around to help them less. They’d have to pay for expenses, like when overnight trips at the inn when we go to other towns, or shoes—”

“The school supplies the shoes and other essentials, and we can cover trip expenses if need be. Also, I chat with Ms. Fujiwara at the grocery store often, and she loves bragging about you. I can’t see her turning down a chance for you to develop your skills and enjoy some team spirit!”

Natsume looked down at his shoes, sure that he was tomato red right now. Touko bragged about him? What did he even do worth bragging about? “He only missed ten days of class this month”? “His grades were perfectly mediocre again”? “He hasn’t come home covered in dirt in a while”? “He made five whole friends in school, somehow?”*

Still, through his embarrassment, he felt a little warm inside. She was proud of him. It was a still a new feeling, and he wasn’t sure what to do with this strange, shy happiness.

“Natsume?” The coach’s voice snapped him back to reality. “Is there anything else bothering you, or would you like to come do a practice session with us? If you don’t like it, you don’t have to join. I’ll respect your decision.”

“I…” Natsume was searching for another excuse.  

 Nishimura jogged up. “Natsume, do you need any—" He noticed who Natsume was talking to and his eyes widened. “Oh, sorry to interrupt, Sensei! Natsume, are you being recruited? That’s so cool!”

“Ah, you were his teammate today, right?” Sakuragi smiled at Nishimura kindly.

Nishimura flushed a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, Natsume really saved me out there. He’s a dependable guy! And he’s a great runner!”

Nishimura flashed a grin at Natsume, who was wishing he had telepathy so he could tell him to stop. He tried to send a signal by shaking his head slightly, but Nishimura wasn’t looking now.

“Well, that definitely sounds like track team material,” Sakuragi said jovially. She turned to Natsume. “Looks like your friends vouch for you. But it’s up to you, Natsume. Would you mind just stopping by?”

Natsume couldn’t bring himself to directly say no to a teacher in the first place, and now Nishimura and his enthusiasm had been added to the mix. “I’ll give it a try,” he mumbled, forcing a smile.

“Great! Just come to the track after school tomorrow. I think you’ll find it’s a lot more fun than you’re thinking.”

Natsume kept the smile fixed on as they carried the water bottles back into school. When the coach departed and they came ouside again, he and Nishimura met Taki and Tanuma. As always, Nishimura immediately started blushing and fidgeting , but as always, Taki failed to notice.

“I saw you with Sakuragi-sensei!” she said with a smile. “Impressing her is a big feat, Natsume! And don’t worry, she’s really nice.” She put her hand on Natsume’s shoulder, and Nishimura let out a strangled squeak. “She won’t get mad at you, whatever you decide.”

“Are you okay?” Tanuma said softly. Clearly both he and Taki had noticed he wasn’t actually happy right now.

“I’m fine,” Natsume said, letting the fake smile drop away and replacing it with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’ll just check it out. No big deal.”

---

“I don’t get why you’re whining so much about it,” Nyanko-sensei said, trotting beside Natsume as he walked to school the next day. “It’s just one measly meeting. What’s so bad about this running team thing anyway?”

“The people who took care of me when I joined the track team the first time were really bothered by it. They didn’t like having to drive me places, or the attention I got—”

“The Fujiwara’s aren’t like that, so that’s a stupid excuse.”

“That’s true, but it’s more than that,” Natsume sighed. “Last time, I was constantly late or absent. A yokai would attack me or I’d get sick...”

“Wimp.”

“Shut up, Sensei. Anyway, whenever that happened, the coach yelled at me for flaking out. I let everyone down.”

“But this woman said it doesn’t matter if you’re sick and can’t come, right?”

“She says that now, but she might change her mind,” Natsume mumbled.

“You’re so gloomy,” Nyanko-sensei shook his head. “It’s annoying.”

“Look, even if what she says is true, my teammates probably won’t like me. They didn’t last time. And I just…I just hated the feeling of all those people looking at me.”

He’d struggled a bit with just the sports day crowd watching him, but being on a real team was a million times worse. All those people judging, all their hopes riding on him not messing up… He shivered, remembering the way his skin had crawled, the way his breathing turned funny, the way his hands had shook. All those eyes on him…the weight of their gaze had made him want to curl up so small they couldn’t see him anymore.

“And there’s the actual reason. You’re bad with other people and you get stage fright. Boring.” Sensei yawned. “Just get over it. You have yokai trying to eat you all the time, why’s this scary?’

“I’d rather deal with yokai than the track team,” Natsume said emphatically.

Nyanko-sensei scoffed.

“A couple years ago there was this coach who was always chasing after me to recruit me. I was running from her, trying to get off school grounds so she couldn’t follow me, but then I saw that there was this huge yokai on the path out of school. Big fangs, sharp teeth, claws, all that.  I’d have to double back to avoid it, and the coach would catch me. So… I took the better option, and I ran past the yokai.”

“Idiot. Did it attack you?”

“I took a swing at me and knocked me out. But because of that the teacher was reprimanded for making the sickly kid collapse and they threatened to fire her if she ever chased a student again. She stopped trying to ask me after that. So it all worked out.”

“I don’t understand humans,” Sensei sighed. “Anyway, I’m in favor of the track team. If it helps you run faster, that means less of you getting snatched by yokai and less work for me.”

“Stop being lazy and trying to skip out on your bodyguard duties, Sensei. Yokai shouldn’t be chasing me down in the first place, it’s your job to take care of them.”

“I’ve got my own life to live! Stop being so selfish!”

“I’m the selfish one?”

They bickered all the way to the school gate, and though Natsume would never admit it to Nyanko-sensei, it did make him feel a lot better.

---

Part 1 complete! Part 2 to come. This is probably about halfway there, if not more.

Footnotes:

*Yes, Sasada has a sports and academic rival yuri storyline in the background. Yes I'm being self indulgent. It's what she deserves. It probably won't come up much more, I just thought it would be funny. Sasada's having this whole romantic epic while Natsume's worrying about track.

*Touko has been bragging about how kind and helpful you are, Natsume, you dummy. And about the garden he made and how it was good it was and other things Natsume does really well he hasn't noticed. She's also probably noticed he's fast and relatively strong for his size, he's always fetching and carrying stuff for her, but Coach thought she was exaggerating. UNTIL NOW.

[juvive-1234]

The Stewards and what they represent

A few weeks ago I made a post where I expressed my opinion about the Stewards being a representation of religious trauma. In this post I will be going into a more further and in depth explanation on why I think this.

! Spoilers for dark rise and dark heir !

1 - The stewards being a cult:

The definition of a cult is "a system of religious veneration and devotion directed toward a particular figure or object." You could apply this term to the Stewards who devoted their lives to serving the light and more so the Lady. Everything they do, all the rules they've enforced its all for the Lady. They start their morning off with a chant dedicated to the Lady, they end their day with a chant dedicated to the lady.

It goes beyond just chants, cult leaders typically set rules for their followers. The reason is obviously to assert leadership and keep the control. The main rules the Stewards have are;

You must participate in the morning chants

You must take a vow of celibacy

You must sacrifice yourself when the time is right

Now, lets breakdown how these can control the Stewards and links them to a cult;

Morning chants - In cults, chanting is a mind-altering practice that can be used to break down a person's defences and make them more susceptible to cult ideology. Cult leaders use chanting to direct their followers' emotional and psychological attention to a specific ideology or person - In this case the light side and the lady. This can be dangerous because it can re-wire how the brain works.

Celibacy - Celibacy is the act of one restricting themself from entering a relationship that could be romantic or sexual - in a way, it's abstaining from sex. Cults typically promote the idea of a romantic/sexual relationship being taboo as a way to keep its members from devoting themself to anyone but their cause.

Self sacrifice - Yes, I know. The reasons the Stewards do this is because of the shadow living within them, but dark rise is one big metaphor for all sorts of things (Homophobia, racism, etc...) and so, I believe this act of self sacrifice is more then something for the fantasy plot. It represents how self sacrifice in cults work. Self sacrifice in cults is usually associated with identity fusion - a psychological concept that describes a deep sense of belonging and oneness with a group. This can be the result of intense collective experiences, such as drinking from the steward's cup which of course ruins the drinker's life.

Additional points:

Cults typically wear uniforms - Stewards wear their white/grey/blue uniforms

Cults isolate their members from the outside world - The Stewards are quite isolated from society and only go out when necessary. Their first reaction to Will is enough.

Abuse - Cults typically abuse their members - James. Enough said.

2 - Attempting to destroy anything different then their morals/Brainwashing

Would this really be a Juvive post without the Novitiate trio? This time, I'm going to use them to explain how fast a cult's opinion can change.

When Will and Violet are spending their first day at the hall, Emery and his friends are the only three people - Novitiates more specifically - who willingly talked to Will and Violet. The duo is usually seen with them and the three explain their traditions to the two. The time skip from chapter 14 to 15 is two (?) months, and during that time I want to bet money Will and Violet continued being Emery, Carver and Beatrix's friend.

Of course, it all goes to hell when Violet is outed to be a lion. When the army of Stewards corner Will and Violet, Carver is in that crowd. Yes, he's a Steward. Yes, he's following duties. Sure, but he didn't even try to rebuttal the higher powers? Didn't try to stand up for Violet? Carver knows Violet and Will are good people, his friends are friends with them- HE'S friends with them. All this is to say that Carver changed his opinions faster than the speed of light.

Why though? How though?

Simple, brainwashing.

The ideas of the Stewards were being jammed into his head since he was young. He's been training to be a Steward for years. He was taught lions were terrible beings. His opinion was not even his own, it was the Stewards. It was forced into his mind. If you don't believe me, brainwashing is defined as the process of compromising someone's freedom of choice and action by altering their perception, motivation, or behavioural outcomes. 

Makes sense now, right?

3 - Leadership

Jannick.

Actually, that's not enough. He deserve more.

3.5 - Jannick.

I hate this fucker.

You can associate this guy with being leaders of the cult. A cult leader is the leader of a group that requires unwavering devotion to a set of beliefs and practices - The lady and the light side in this case. Cult leaders are often described as pathologically narcissistic, and may be narcissists.

Let's break him down:

Jannick:

Called his son a "catamite" in front of hundreds of people - Shows lack of empathy which is a trait narcissists have

Implied that he pushes/pushed all three of his sons to the absolute limit and pushed them to be perfect. In the book he does show that he had a desire to be a Steward - Shows both need for admiration and envy, two traits shared with narcissists

"That thing is not my son." - Shows arrogance and just being a dick, arrogance is a trait narcissists have

While the Elder Steward is technically the leader of the Stewards, Jannick seems to have more power and influence over certain things.

Wrap up

In summary, I do believe the Stewards represent a more deeper meaning then what has been shown to us. They're a metaphor. A metaphor for a cult and religious trauma.

Thank you so much for reading. Take care you yourself, ok?