#the fact that my experience exists proves it’s not *everyone*
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Me: *complaining about how it's hard for me to relate to typical girl characters bc media makes it seem like all girls are boy crazy and the universal teenager experience revolves around romance and crushes and that just wasn’t true for me*
My mom: Well that’s because you’re not normal. You know, for everyone else that is what it's like
Me: *looks at the camera*
#thank you mother for proving my point#am *I* not a part of 'everyone'?#the fact that my experience exists proves it’s not *everyone*#and that you think it's just a me thing proves that this is a problem#normalize variety#there's more than one way to be#there are very few things that are actually 'universal'#being different or uncommon does not mean you are wrong or not normal#like i don’t even have to be asexual for this to be a valid and true thing#there are allo people who just aren't interested in it yet too#or who don't feel defined by it#the same is true for other 'typical' girl things for me (like shopping/fashion/makeup etc)#like there's nothing wrong with it but i still just can't relate#no group is a monolith#that’s why tokenism doesn’t work#bc if you have only *one* female character she suddenly has to represent *all* women and that’s not possible#ace#asexual#aspec#aroace#aromantic#media tropes#amatonormativity#writing#representation
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I am always gonna have That Bitch energy in my heart....
call me (W)underdog the way I Togo-a-gogo
#I curse everyone else with my “fragile but too much like silly putty to die” curse#like if I have to keep living in this world I will never walk away or shutup - in the grandest sense of a human's existence#you can't shame me here I literally have a pathological masochistic love of this and the fact that you CANNOT “do” it to me unless I! accept#so I cannot lose the game of games simply by understanding my endless ability to keep going/restarting/etc#I can be proved wrong when I die but at that point I will never experience it so it's basically.... not real#since it's a subjective experience - we do not experience being dead#I can decide Absolutely that I will not be coerced or ashamed#score = 100
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i've seen a lot of people complain about the dawntrail final dungeon for being a thing that we have basically already done and i understand and in many ways agree with that complaint but i do think it varies from the usual in ways that are actually pretty compelling.
spoilers for dawntrail follow, natch.
like okay in amaurot and the dead ends and the lunar subterrane (okay this is definitely a well CBU3 has gone to too many times), the premise is the fights you're engaging in are all kind of historical. behold, the dooms of amaurot. tremble before ra-la, a real sphinx that actually existed once somewhere. face durante, just as golbez faced him in real life.
and accordingly, because all the fighting is supposed to match the energy of the dungeons, these are moments of panic and peril. the world is ending. the worlds are ending. the kingdom is on fire. there's a solemn villain voiceover to really drive the point home (we just wanted to play...on da amaurotine playground...). amaurot is falling and look how sad it is. every world died and look how painful it was. my best buddy golbez died and it was really sad. everything is Fucked Up.
what's really fun about alexandria by contrast, particularly in the first part, is that things are fine, actually! sphene's here (well, "heah"), and we love her, and she smiles because we smile and we smile for her :). oh no alexandria is falling and it's so sad and noble because of everyone's chivalric sacrifices :( oh yay we're rebuilding from the ashes :)
it's a beautiful, tragic, noble story. and the whole time no one's talking to you, not like normal. sphene's kind of reciting the lyrics to memory from cats listlessly but everyone in her memories is talking to each other, not to you. none of them are interacting with you. you're not fighting alongside her against her enemies or taking down conjured horrors from the past.
no, the whole time you're being reminded of one very specific fact.
You're foreign. You're not from here. This is not for you. This is not yours. This peace was not yours and never will be. This grief, this hope. You chose otherwise. You were offered the chance to be Alexandrian. You rejected it. Stay over there. Stay out. You are not wanted here.
in what i personally choose to interpret as a bit of dark comedy, when things start breaking down, it's literally one of the only words you still understand.
ultimately what distinguishes alexandria from amaurot or the dead ends (intentional "this is why i'm sad" slideshows made specifically for the warrior of light to experience) or the lunar subterrane (accidental memory recreation) is that you are choosing to invade sphene's memories. you are doing a cool little backdoor heist at the luxor casino by causing chaos all over the strip before you crawl through the vents to get to the mainframe or whatever.
but in the context of dawntrail, alexandria is the invading power, the rapacious techno-dystopia that intends to carry out forever wars so it can use the literal souls of its enemies to power its treat machines and which not so coincidentally spawned in north america. and alexandria has literally invaded both tuliyollal and yyasulani at this point. so the conceit of the memory guardians helps make clear the hegemonic logic at play. you are a foreign entity. you are not a subject of the state. your life has no value. you must be removed.
or, if removal proves impossible, exterminated.
#ffxiv#dawntrail spoilers#alexandria ffxiv#endwalker spoilers#shadowbringers spoilers#okay but for real i need the next final dungeon to be not this#one yearns for the simple drama of a good ala mhigo#dawntrail#meta: durai report
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I just keep getting more and more!!!! LMAO HOW???
I just keep getting more money
I just keeping everything I want
My wardrobe keeps expanding. My outfits keep getting better
My hair keeps growing longer and thicker
Everyday my beauty gets even more surreal
Every day my bank grows. Every day I make more money.
I have never felt this secure in my entire life in every aspect. I am finally here. I broke free. It feels so good this feeling surges through me!
I am a magnet for all good things. I AM all good things and it flows FROM me.
I am a magnet for all I want
I am a magnet for wealth and abundance and love
I am a magnet for security
I AM SECURITY I AM WEALTH I AM ABUNDANCE IT FLOWS THROUGH ME
I only experience the best
I create instantly. That’s why I’m sitting here enjoying being and having.
I am the main character and I let myself be. I don’t shrink myself or hide myself anymore.
Every day I wake up and can’t believe I’m finally here.
Every day I still wake up in awe over my beauty and perfection
Every day I’m still waking up in awe and deep gratitude for finally being so secure in all aspects of my being. THANK YOU. I SCREAM IN JOY AND GRATITUDE.
I’m still in awe over everything I get to be and have
I’m still in awe when I look in the mirror
I’m still in awe over my bank account
Im still in awe over everything always going how I want
I’m still in awe over seeing my business grow
I’m still in awe over everyone working so hard for me to have more
Im still in awe over the universe giving me more and more. I didn’t think it could get better. I didn’t even think I could be this beautiful and radiant.
Fulfilment like I’ve never experienced. I KNOW myself only as this person and truly get to experience this insane life now. I feel so lucky.
I can’t even go back to my old world or self. It is impossible. I can’t even doubt the truth. It would be insane. I am standing here on harvest ground in my new world. I would be mad to go back to an old thinking when I’m here as the ideal.
I EMBODY it because it’s the only thing of existence
I ENJOY DOING AND LIVING AS because it’s the only thing of existence it’s all I can see
Ps. You’re always assuming something (often that you can’t even see or prove to be facts but you’re still believing in it or assuming) so drop conditioning and assume whatever the fuck you want. Stop being controlled like a broken puppet and using your very own power against yourself. Conditioning was placed to use your very power.
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What's the worst thing about fandom in the last 20 years, and what's the worst thing about fandom that's always been true of it?
The worst thing about fandom in the last 20 years has been the incentivizing of fandom-as-conflict: not merely as a field in broader culture wars but as the field for endless intra-group battles.
This manifests in many ways: as seven hour videos complaining about The Last Jedi, as Twitter backlash campaigns, but also as stans defending their faves from any and all criticism real or imagined, as the endless boom-and-backlash cycle to any fandom meme or joke you see on Reddit, and as the drive for people to look for evidence other people discussing a thing they like are hysterical illiterate dolts, before anything else.
Or, in other words: a lot of fandoms are full of assholes these days, whose main interaction with fandom is using it as a reason to be an asshole, and to defend being an asshole. The actual “fandom” part of fandom no longer really exists for them. The discourse more or less is their fandom; someone whose main fandom activity is sharing videos about how Steven Universe is a fascist (?) isn’t in the Steven Universe fandom, they’re in the videos about how Steven Universe is a fascist (?) fandom. I mean, the chief fandom for many people is their side in the fandom war. What type of fanfic you write is secondary to what your affiliations are vis-a-vis battles over fanfiction
(One trend I've noticed is people who aren't at the stage where they only talk about what they hate and not what they love, but are at the stage where they can only talk about what they love in relation to what they hate. "I love this movie...and it proves this other movie is bullshit made by a hack". No ability to say just "I love this movie", period, end of sentence. This is how like two-thirds of Film Twitter talks about film, the remainder are all the grindhouse people going "man you've GOT to see Wrong Turn 5")
Another one, that I think is related, is that fandom’s become...more transitory, maybe? There’s Big Fandoms that are inescapable and then everything else feels like it’s here for a weekend and then it’s gone. And we’ve always had fandoms that endure and fandoms that vanish quickly, when the show runs short or turns out to be bad/boring, but we did use to have a lot of enduring if small fandoms for Okay shows most people hadn’t heard of and now you don’t really. Or they burn themselves out fast.
So we’ve reached this stage where fandoms are either so big they have seven hour long discourse videos, or they’re a smattering of fanart over the course of two weeks last August. But that isn’t really the fault of fans so much as modern media release schedules.
A lot of fandom activities of old are just...impossible now, with many shows? The slow build of speculation and fan works and in-jokes and theorizing and analysis simply can’t exist in a world where the premiere comes out the same day as the finale, and you can’t talk about the finale because you have no way of knowing if the person you’re talking to binged it all in one weekend or is still on episode four. That was the kind of thing that sustained the fandom of something that wasn’t a big hit, or even something that was. My fave fandom experience ever was watching the online Lost fandom wildly theorizing for all six years of Lost, and we’d never get “and what if the Smoke Monster is a dinosaur but only the head?” under a Netflix release model. Now at a base level, we either have shows nobody can discuss because nobody’s sure who’s seen or what, or shows where everyone just discusses the finale right away, and where you get One Week of Show and then a massive hiatus, which either kills all momentum or...drives fandom in the direction of hyper-analyzing everything and fighting because, well, what else is there to do? And that plus the outrage cycles of social media plus the fact that “man who yells at Star Wars” is now a viable career choice result in, well. *gestures upwards* All that
(Really, shout out to Cartoon Network for engineering the Steven Universe fandom to Be Like That through their inscrutable strategy of dropping episodes during one random week every five months or whatever)
As for something that's always been with it...cliques and a certain fannish elitism, like, that sees engaging with media in a fandom sense as more creative or analytical or intelligent than your average person. You see it now in the form of, like, people holding up fanfic above published fiction as more representative or authentic (I’ve seen more than one post on here strongly implying queer rep doesn’t exist in mainstream non-fic storytelling???), or going “well, we think about shows, unlike those normies watching sports”. But that was probably way more pronounced a thing in the past, in the 40-50s sci-fi fans were calling non-fans "mundanes" and calling themselves "slans" as an in-group signifier (a reference to a book with superintelligent psychic mutants known as slans). Like at the very least we should be happy no one’s calling non-fans “muggles” anymore. In the evolution from “mundane” to “muggle” to “normie” normie’s probably the least bad one
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I loved Wild Blue Yonder, I thought it was a great episode. But if I see one more person proclaiming that the Doctor saying Isaac Newton was "hot" made the character "finally queer", I'm gonna set fire to sth.
For one thing, since they changed into a woman, the Doctor has, depending on one's definition, been canonically genderfluid/trans/nonbinary/genderqueer. That was made even more explicit last week in Star Beast. So saying that the Doctor as played by a man and using he/him pronouns calling a man "hot" somehow made the character queer is stupid in and of itself.
And secondly, the Doctor has long been regarded as aro and ace-coded by people of those communities and guess what? Aro and ace people really do exist and we are queer. And it would be lovely if other queer people could stop excluding us by saying that characters who provide what little, mostly accidental and incidental representation we get "become queer" by expressing same-sex attraction. It happened with Good Omens and it seems to be happening again with Doctor Who and I am so fucking tired of it
Edit (6th Dec 2023): Several people have pointed out in the notes that there have been quite a few instances of the Doctor ambiguously or indeed unambiguously expressing 'same-sex' attraction and exploring their gender identity/identities in the past, both in the show and in extended media. I just wanted to be absolutely clear on the fact that I was in way trying to diminish the importance of those moments by emphasing the aspect of asexuality and aromanticism in my post. That is not to say that I think anyone was implying that I was doing that, in fact everyone's been lovely (which is why I also wanted to thank everyone for their input, I learnt a lot, especially about the novels!!)
Of course, as an asexual, aromantic and agender/nonbinary person, that is the lens through which I watch the show and relate to the character of the Doctor. This does not make my reading of them any more or less valid than anyone else's. In fact, I absolutely love the fact that the Doctor is a character who speaks to people of so many different queer identities and I am so happy that RTD is exploring their queerness more explicitly, building on what he and so many other writers and also the actors have already established. I just hope that the fandom will respect the aro and ace aspects of the Doctor's queerness the same way they do their gender identities and other sexual and romantic orientations. Part of the reason I was initially quite worried about this was because of my experiences in the Good Omens fandom, particularly post series 2, as indicated in my original post. The other is that I doubt the show will explore the aro and ace aspects of the character as much as they may other queer identities - unfortunately aspecs have a history of being left behind in this regard...
But we will see, maybe I'll be proved wrong! For the time being, I just hope the queer community can celebrate all the different facets of the Doctor's undeniable queerness, including the aspec ones. And as the reactions to this post have been overwhelmingly supportive (I don't think I've seen a single outright negative response), I think this hope is far from unfounded.
(Sorry, this edit turned out to be longer than the original post...)
#doctor who#dw spoilers#doctor who spoilers#wild blue yonder#asexuality#aromanticism#asexual#aromantic#acespec#arospec
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SUMMARY: Mihawk with a s/o that’s shy.
WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP
NOTES: Before my obsession with Black Clover, I was obsessed with One Piece. I miss that. 😞
A literal blessing from the heavens when it comes to your timidness.
While shyness may not typically win favor from others or even from yourself, Mihawk finds a unique comfort in your timid disposition. Your quiet presence, the subtle glow in your eyes when conversation shifts to a topic you're passionate about, and your hesitant yet endearing gestures—all these traits capture Mihawk's attention and affection. To him, your shyness isn't a flaw to be overcome but rather a part of your charm that he deeply appreciates.
He understands that you may feel overwhelmed in social situations, so he takes the lead when necessary, subtly guiding you through interactions with others. His subtle guidance is so skillfully executed that it goes unnoticed by everyone, maybe even you. With Mihawk by your side, the once daunting prospect of socializing transforms into a less stressful experience, maybe even fostering a sense of ease in your interactions with others.
Mihawk's mere presence serves as a soothing balm for your soul. He's a man of few words, speaking only when the situation demands it. Understanding your shy nature, he respects your need for silence and doesn't overwhelm you with unnecessary chatter. However, if you express a desire for more conversation, signaling your comfort in his company, he graciously obliges, opening the door to deeper interactions. But for the most part, quietude often accompanies your time together. It’s like there exists a profound connection, forged not through words but through the shared comfort of each other's presence.
While Mihawk tends to be slightly more protective of you due to your timid nature, he maintains a deep respect for your boundaries. He never pressures you into uncomfortable situations and intuitively gives you space when you need it. In fact, you probably don't even need to voice your discomfort. Mihawk's keen observational skills allow him to sense your unease almost instinctively. It may sound like an exaggeration, but his attentiveness is truly that acute!
Honestly, the only downside I can think of is that Mihawk is literally a wanted pirate, the strongest swordsman in the world, with a hefty bounty on his head. Despite this, he does his absolute best to keep you out of such perilous affairs. The last thing he wants is to endanger you by attracting the attention of marines or other pirates because of your association with him. In short, he strives to shield you from the dangers of his pirate life. Trust me, he does this out of love, knowing that his chaotic affairs isn’t something you could easily handle, especially since you’re shy and all.
If you're having one of those moments where making eye contact feels overwhelming, Mihawk has a simple yet thoughtful solution. He'll lend you his hat and angle it just right, ensuring that you either avoid making eye contact altogether or that no one else can see your eyes. Truly, I tell you, Mihawk is a lifesaver. 🙂↕️
Speaking of eye contact, you and Mihawk have developed a unique way of communicating silently when others are around. If someone says something weird or surprising, you exchange glances that speak volumes. It's as if your eyes are saying, "Are you hearing this too?" to each other. This silent exchange often goes unnoticed by others, which ends up becoming like a secret language between you and Mihawk.
This was so short I’m sorry 😔 I fear I have no more brain juice.
Overall, Mihawk proves to be an ideal partner for someone who is shy. He intuitively understands your needs, taking note of your discomforts and comforts without the need for verbal communication. His attentive nature ensures that he anticipates your needs before you even have to voice them!
#dracule mihawk#one peice#one piece mihawk#hawkeye mihawk#op mihawk#mihawk x reader#mihawk x you#mihawk x y/n#one piece x reader#one piece x y/n#one piece x you#not too proud of this one but whatever 🤷♀️
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Really quick question so I can prove a point, where does it say Cross is a swap variant?
If it doesn't say so, please provide evidence as to why many people believe him to be?
I too believe him to be a swap, but I cannot for the life of me research anything effectively
not on my a-game because i just woke up, but here. it’s never explicitly said “i, cross sans, am an underswap sans variant” but it’s explicitly said that his au is based on a swap timeline, he is mistaken by swap paps to be his brother, shows swap sans traits (eyes turn into stars, loves tacos, hates eating condiments), and was in the royal guard. if it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it’s probably a duck.
these screenshots are of xtale timeline III (just the first one tho) where xgaster directly says that he has integrated underswap into his au’s code, and the rest is from underverse (forgot the part specifically) where cross is in an underswap timeline and experiences a significantly stronger emotional response than he’s gotten from being in any other au. there’s more there but im not gonna drag up too many screenshots, watching underverse on its own will be enough.
yah he’s a swap!!! so you can have all in one place heres more evidence of cross being a swap.
him being disgusted by classic sans traits like drinking condiments, only not sitting by swap because he doesn’t feel like eating tacos that day (implying he normally does, also sorry this is so grainy)
his casual outfit being the bandana!!! the fluffy outfit we see is a uniform that he initially did not like, and he only wears sweaters on distinctly special occasions (such as to piss off xgaster), and the boob-window was makeshift. the bandana is his casual clothing! in pretty much every outfit where he isn’t wearing the uniform or boob-window, he is wearing his swap outfit. in timeline x, the ‘cross’ timeline, he is never seen wearing a hoodie!! previous timelines (such as timeline I, where he was entirely a classic sans) are void because they have been overwritten and no longer ‘exist’
cross loving tacos is something everyone knows and is easy to find, but im putting this image back here just in case. also because i like it a lot
in fact in one of his mini taco frenzies in underverse, swap paps says something like “are you sure you’ve never met my brother?”
again i just woke up so im not on my a-game with this but yah he is a swap sans people are just in denial which is one of my biggest fandom pet peeves atp. if he was a classic sans, he’d be really bad at being one.
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Hi! I just stumbled upon your profile when I was searching for jonathan crane x reader fics, and can I just say that I loved Behind The Mask so so much! Would it be possible to request a fic Jonathan x reader that is inspired by You are the right one by Sports? If so, thank you so much! 💕✨
You Are The Right One - Jonathan Crane x Reader (Part 1/2)
Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader
Word Count: 8016
Warnings: High School!Jonathan Crane, bullying
Summary: !!Request!! High school was a cesspool of misery for Jonathan. After the cruel prank from his crush and biggest bully, he believed his days would be forever marred by the shadows of ridicule and isolation. Until a beacon of light emerged in the form of one girl who reached out with a helping hand.
A/N: (This gif does not match the vibe whatsoever, but oh well!) Bro, I had never heard this song before, but the second I listened to it AHAHHAH!!! the way this song tingles my brain~ chefs kiss. Thank you so much Anon for introducing this song to me 💚 While writing this fic, I really got into the comic book Jonathan, so the whole time writing this, instead of picturing Cillian Murphy, my brain went off and thought about the lanky ginger Jonathan from the comics...smash. This doesn't really affect how you read it or anything, I don't bring up his appearance (I think) but yeah, fun fact! Thank you so much for the request, Anon, I hope you like it and I hope everyone else likes it as well 💚
(Part 2)
-
"Hey! Scarecrow!" The jeering shout pierced the air before a rotten pumpkin collided with Jonathan's head.
With a jolt, he crashed onto the unforgiving concrete, the impact scraping his knees raw and sending his glasses tumbling from his face. Laughter and mocking taunts echoed from the other side of the street, adding insult to injury. Wiping the slimy remnants of pumpkin from his face, Jonathan retrieved his glasses from the ground and carefully replaced them, picking himself off the floor and rushing to his house.
Jonathan hated his time at school, not due to its academic challenges, they were a mere breeze to him. It was the individuals within the school walls who soured his experience. Each day seemed to bring a fresh onslaught of taunts, shoves, and the relentless pursuit to make him feel small. It was an existence he loathed.
Bo Gribbs stood out as the ringleader of torment, his cruelty unmatched by any other. Jonathan couldn't fathom what he had done to deserve such relentless bullying from Bo, but he found himself powerless to retaliate. Physically overpowered and painfully aware of his own frailty, Jonathan's slender frame seemed almost translucent beneath his clothing, a stark testament to his vulnerability in the face of Bo's tyranny.
Yet, even within the supposed sanctuary of his supposed home, peace was still not found for him. If he managed to escape the torment of school, he found himself ensnared in the clutches of his eccentric great-grandmother, whose own torture made every moment a living hell. The irony of her religious fervor contrasted against her treatment of him was not lost on Jonathan.
Though Jonathan's existence felt like a descent into inferno, he clung to the belief that it was merely a chapter in his life, not the entire story. Determined to carve out a brighter future for himself. He vowed to end the torment, one way or another.
-
Walking through the corridors proved to be a difficult journey for Jonathan, each step fraught with the anticipation of another cruel encounter. As he traversed the halls, barely two minutes had passed before a forceful shove sent him careening forward, his body meeting the cold embrace of the linoleum floor. His knees, accustomed to such harsh treatment, absorbed the impact with resigned familiarity.
The clatter of his glasses hitting the ground echoed amidst the cacophony of jeers from passing jocks, their laughter cutting through the air like a serrated blade. With a heavy sigh, Jonathan reached out, his fingers fumbling as they sought the familiar frames now lying abandoned on the floor.
To add insult to injury, the contents of his binder lay strewn across the corridor in a chaotic array of papers and notebooks. With a resigned sense of foreboding, Jonathan began the arduous task of gathering his scattered belongings, readying himself for the inevitable shit day that lay ahead.
Amidst the din of the bustling hallway, the sound of approaching footsteps caught Jonathan's attention, his heart sinking as he braced for yet another harsh confrontation. However, what he beheld was not the expected boot poised for a strike, but rather a figure, a girl, crouched beside him, her hands reaching out to aid in gathering the scattered papers.
Stunned into silence, Jonathan could only watch in disbelief as the girl worked alongside him, her actions a stark contrast to the hostility he had come to expect. Caught in a moment of bewildered confusion, he found himself unable to move, his mind reeling with questions. What was she doing? Was she helping him?
As Jonathan's mind struggled to catch up with the whirlwind of events, he watched in astonishment as the girl collected the scattered papers, her movements somehow appearing graceful. With each piece she retrieved, she seemed to breathe life into the crap that had enveloped his world just moments before. As she stacked the papers before him, Jonathan couldn't help but marvel at the dexterity of her fingers, a stark contrast to the clumsy awkwardness he felt coursing through his own limbs.
When she finally glanced up, her face illuminated by the fluorescent lights of the corridor, Jonathan found himself momentarily transfixed by the sight before him. The delicate curve of her jawline, the softness of her features, and the warmth in her eyes sent a flutter through his chest, igniting a blush that crept up his cheeks. It had been an eternity since he had been in such close proximity to a girl, let alone one this attrative.
Despite the pounding of his heart and the flush of embarrassment that suffused his face, Jonathan couldn't help but brace himself for the anticipated rejection and humiliation. Yet, to his astonishment, the girl's expression remained neutral, devoid of the revulsion he had come to expect from others.
In that fleeting moment, as their eyes met, Jonathan felt a spark of hope ignite within him, a glimmer of possibility amidst the darkness of his reality.
"I'm not sure they're in order, sorry," she offered apologetically, handing the papers over to him.
Jonathan's mind raced, struggling to process the flood of emotions and sensations crashing over him like waves against a rocky shore. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words emerged, his voice lost amidst the thoughts within him. His cheeks burned with a fierce blush, the heat spreading across his skin like wildfire as he fought to steady his erratic breaths.
Despite the turmoil raging within him, Jonathan found himself unable to tear his gaze away from the girl before him. Every delicate movement, every subtle shift in her demeanor, captivated his attention like a mesmerizing dance. He watched as she nervously nibbled on her lower lip, her brows furrowed in a mixture of concern and uncertainty.
A pang of self-reproach stabbed at Jonathan's heart as he cursed his own awkwardness, berating himself for his inability to ease the tension that hung thick in the air. He longed to reach out, to offer some semblance of reassurance, but the weight of his own insecurities held him captive, shackling him in silence.
In the midst of his internal turmoil, Jonathan couldn't help but wonder if he was the cause of the girl's discomfort. Was it his presence alone that had driven her to such nervous agitation? The thought only served to deepen his sense of self-condemnation, a bitter reminder of his own inadequacy in the face of this unexpected encounter.
Taking the papers from her outstretched hand, Jonathan murmured a barely audible "thank you," his eyes remaining fixed on the ground.
"It's okay," she reassured softly, straightening up.
As Jonathan remained rooted to the spot, his gaze fixated on the ground, he felt a sense of regret wash over him as he watched the girl gracefully rise to her feet. Every movement seemed to unfold in slow motion, each subtle shift of her body conveying a depth of emotion that left Jonathan feeling utterly captivated.
The soft rustle of fabric as she straightened her posture, the delicate sway of her hair as she lifted her head, every detail etched itself into Jonathan's memory like a scene from a cherished dream. He longed to reach out, to capture this fleeting moment before it slipped through his fingers like grains of sand, but the weight of his own insecurities held him firmly in place.
As she turned to leave, the sound of her footsteps echoed through the empty corridor, each step a somber reminder of the distance that now lay between them. Jonathan listened intently, the rhythmic sound of her footfalls fading into the silence like a whispered promise lost to the wind.
Only when she was finally out of sight did Jonathan dare to lift his gaze, his eyes scanning the empty space where she had stood mere moments before. The memory of her presence lingered like an echo in his mind, a bittersweet reminder of the connection he had felt, however fleeting it may have been.
-
As the final bell reverberated through the hallways, signaling the end of lunch and the impending arrival of the last period, Jonathan's thoughts were consumed by the memory of the girl he had crossed paths with that very morning. Her image lingered in his mind like a vivid dream, each detail etched into his consciousness with a clarity that was exhilarating and mildly disturbing.
The mere thought of her sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He could almost feel the weight of her gaze, piercing through the veil of his thoughts, igniting a fire within him that he struggled to contain.
This crush felt different, unlike any he had experienced before. It wasn't merely a passing fancy or a fleeting attraction. It was a connection that transcended the boundaries of mere physical appearance. There was an ineffable quality about her, a magnetic allure that beckoned him closer with each passing moment.
As he gazed out into the tranquil expanse before him, Jonathan couldn't shake the feeling that destiny had intervened, weaving their paths together. And in that moment, amidst the quiet solitude of the afternoon, he allowed himself to entertain the tantalizing possibility that perhaps, just perhaps, this encounter was the beginning of something truly extraordinary.
It may have seemed naive, even foolish, to harbor such aspirations, but for Jonathan, it was a rare moment of respite in an otherwise shitty landscape. To entertain the notion that perhaps, just perhaps, the universe held something extraordinary in store for him was a welcome change.
Jonathan’s previous crushes seemed like nothing compared to the emotions that stirred by his encounter with the mysterious girl that morning. Recollections of past crushes, like shards of fragmented glass, pricked at his consciousness, reminding him of the superficiality that had defined those fleeting attractions.
Sherry, with her beauty and captivating presence, had been the subject of Jonathan's affections not so long ago. Yet, his admiration for her had always been tempered by the harsh reality of her social circle. Despite the allure of her charm, Jonathan found himself relegated to the sidelines, but he knew he could never have anyone like her anyway.
But it wasn't just Sherry's group that posed a barrier to Jonathan's desires, it was her association with Bo Gribbs, the boy that tormented him every day. Bo's looming presence, like a dark cloud on the horizon, served as a constant reminder of the toxicity that permeated Sherry's world. And yet, despite the danger that lurked beneath the surface, Jonathan remained steadfast in his pursuit, blind to the warning signs that whispered caution in the wind.
It wasn't until Sherry played a cruel prank on him, a twisted joke that left him humiliated and vulnerable, that Jonathan's rose-tinted glasses were shattered, revealing the harsh truth that had eluded him for so long. The sting of betrayal, like a venomous serpent coiled within his heart, forced him to confront the reality of his situation, a reality where he made judgement off appearance alone.
As he reflected on the events of that fateful night, Jonathan couldn't help but feel a pang of regret for the time wasted chasing after hollow dreams. But amidst the ashes of his past disappointments, a flicker of hope ignited within him, a hope born from the promise of a new beginning, forged in the fires of his encounter with the mysterious girl who had captured his heart with a single glance and kind gesture.
This girl, she was unlike anyone Jonathan had ever encountered before. Every detail of her presence seemed to exude an air of kindess, something that he didn’t experience often.
It wasn't just her appearance that set her apart, it was the way she carried herself, with a confidence that bordered on defiance, as if daring the world to unravel the enigma of her being. There was an undeniable magnetism about her, an intangible quality that drew Jonathan in like a moth to a flame.
And for the first time in his life, Jonathan dared to hope that perhaps, just perhaps, there was a chance for something more than mere admiration from afar. He allowed himself to entertain the possibility of forging a connection with this stranger.
As Jonathan settled into his usual seat at the front of the classroom, he arranged his books on the desk before him. The desks were arranged in pairs, accommodating two students each, yet Jonathan found himself occupying his table alone, a solitude he had grown accustomed to and even appreciated.
The rest of the class filtered in, taking their usual places. But just as the bell signaled the start of class, the door creaked open to reveal a newcomer, a sight that caused Jonathan's heart to skip a beat. Like a vision materializing, she stepped into the room, the girl who had occupied Jonathan's thoughts since the start of the day.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Jonathan's eyes traced her every movement, drinking in the graceful sway of her stride, the subtle tilt of her head as she looked around at the desks before her. It was as if the very essence of her presence infused the room with a palpable energy, setting Jonathan's heart ablaze with a flurry of emotions he struggled to contain.
What was she doing here, in his classroom, when she wasn't supposed to be? The question echoed through Jonathan's mind like a mantra, a puzzle he couldn't quite unravel.
As she cast her gaze about the room, seeking out an empty seat, Jonathan's breath caught in his throat, a knot of anticipation tightening in his chest. And then, as if guided by some unseen force, her eyes landed on the spot beside him before drifting up to his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips like a secret shared between them.
The rush of heat that flooded Jonathan's cheeks was as sudden and unexpected as a summer storm, his pulse quickening with a fervor that threatened to overwhelm him. It was a moment suspended in time, a collision of worlds that left Jonathan reeling in disbelief.
He sat there, his heart hammering against his ribcage like a drum echoing in the hollows of his chest. Every nerve in his body seemed to hum with electricity as he watched her draw nearer, her presence casting a spell upon him that left him breathless with anticipation. It was as if time itself had slowed to a crawl, each passing second stretching into eternity.
"May I sit here?" Her voice, like a melody woven from silk and honey, broke through the haze of Jonathan's thoughts, drawing his attention to the question hanging in the air.
Jonathan swallowed hard, the sudden dryness of his throat betraying the ruckus of emotions raging within him. With a shaky nod, he managed to tear his gaze away from her mesmerizing presence, meeting her eyes with a mixture of awe and disbelief.
"Thank you," she murmured softly, her voice like a gentle breeze on a summer's eve as she settled into the seat beside him, her movements fluid and graceful.
"I just moved classes," she continued, her tone casual yet tinged with a hint of frustration, "I had a clash with English and Statistics, which messed up my whole timetable."
As she explained the reason for her unexpected presence in his class, Jonathan found himself captivated by the sound of her voice, each word a symphony of warmth and sincerity that washed over him like a soothing balm.
Jonathan drank in her words like a man parched in the desert, his thirst for her presence growing with each passing moment. He wanted nothing more than to listen to her voice for eternity, to lose himself in the melody of her speech.
"I'm Y/n, by the way," she said, turning to look at him with a smile that seemed to illuminate the entire room with its radiance.
"I'm Jo-" Jonathan's words were abruptly cut off by the sharp impact of a book colliding with the back of his head, jolting him out of his trance with a start.
Laughter erupted throughout the classroom, echoing off the walls as Jonathan winced in pain, his hand instinctively flying to the back of his head, fingers curling around the tender spot where the book had struck.
"Holy fuck! Are you okay?" Y/n's voice cut through the chaos, her hand landing gently on his shoulder in a gesture of concern.
Jonathan's breath caught in his throat at the touch, a jolt of electricity coursing through him at the warmth of her hand against his skin. If he weren't in such agonizing pain, he might have choked on his own saliva at the unexpected intimacy of the moment. "I'm fine," he managed to whisper, his voice barely above a hoarse murmur.
As Y/n leaned in to check on him, neither of them noticed the approach of the culprit responsible for Jonathan's suffering. It wasn't until he spoke that their attention was drawn to him, his smug tone slicing through the air like a knife.
"Sorry, Scarecrow, my hand slipped," Bo said, his voice dripping with malice.
With a heavy thud, Bo's hand landed on Jonathan's back, causing him to flinch and cough in response. Leaning in closer, Bo loomed over Jonathan, his presence like a dark cloud casting a shadow over the room.
"Do you mind?" Y/n's voice cut through the tension like a sharp blade, her gaze locked on Bo with a fierceness that made him falter for a moment.
"Mind what, Y/n? I’m fine, how ‘bout yourself?" Bo retorted, his smirk never faltering, even under the weight of her glare.
"Go be a dick somewhere else," Y/n shot back.
Jonathan's heart swelled with a mixture of gratitude and admiration as he watched Y/n stand up to Bo, her unwavering determination a stark contrast to the fear and apprehension that had gripped him only moments before.
For a moment, Bo seemed taken aback by Y/n's assertiveness, his usual swagger faltering in the face of her unwavering gaze. But then, with a mocking snort, he straightened up, his smirk morphing into a sneer as he turned his attention back to Jonathan.
"Looks like Scarecrow's got himself a little protector," Bo jeered, his words dripping with contempt.
Ignoring Bo's taunts, Y/n turned back to Jonathan, her expression softening with concern. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, her voice gentle and reassuring.
Jonathan couldn't help but nod, a surge of gratitude flooding through him at the genuine concern in her eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied.
As the tension in the room began to settle, the teacher cleared their throat, drawing attention to the front of the classroom. With one last glance at Y/n, Jonathan turned his focus to the lesson.
Jonathan felt a gentle tap on his arm, pulling him from his thoughts. He turned to find Y/n looking at him with a kind expression.
"Sorry, I never actually caught your name before Bo started being a dick," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of apology.
"Jonathan," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
Y/n nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips, before turning her attention back to the front of the classroom.
As Jonathan watched her, a warmth spread through his chest, chasing away the lingering discomfort from Bo's earlier antics. In that brief exchange, he felt a connection form.
As Jonathan sat beside Y/n in class, his mind couldn't help but drift back to her. Her presence beside him seemed to fill the air with a quiet warmth, casting a soft glow over the otherwise mundane surroundings of the classroom.
He stole furtive glances in her direction, marveling at the way the sunlight danced in her hair, illuminating strands of gold like a halo. The gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, the way her eyes flickered with concentration as she followed along with the lesson, every detail of her being seemed to captivate him in ways he couldn't quite comprehend.
He longed to hear her speak again, to lose himself in the melody of her words and the warmth of her smile. But more than anything, it was the way she made him feel, the sense of comfort and ease that washed over him in her presence. For the first time in a long while, Jonathan felt a glimmer of hope stirring within him, a belief that perhaps, just perhaps, there was something special blossoming between them.
As the final minutes of class ticked by, Jonathan's attention remained divided between the lesson and the gentle presence of Y/n beside him. He found himself stealing glances at her whenever he could, savoring the fleeting moments of shared proximity.
When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the period, Jonathan felt a pang of reluctance as he realized their time together was drawing to a close. He began gathering his belongings, his mind already drifting ahead to the remainder of the day.
But before he could make his exit, Y/n turned to him with a smile, her eyes sparkling with warmth and kindness. "Hey, Jonathan," she said softly, "do you mind if I walk with you?"
Jonathan's heart skipped a beat at her words, a rush of warmth flooding through him at the prospect of spending more time with her. "I don’t mind," he replied, almost too quickly.
Together, they made their way out of the classroom, the bustling halls alive with the energy of students eager to begin their weekend. As they walked side by side, Jonathan felt a sense of contentment wash over him, grateful for the unexpected situation that had brought them together.
As they stepped out of the building, Y/n cast a fleeting glance behind them before returning her focus to the path ahead. "I just really didn't want Bo to bother you any more than he already has. If you don't want me to walk with you, I totally get that," she said, her voice tinged with concern.
"It's fine... I don't mind," Jonathan replied, his words tinged with a mix of gratitude and disbelief.
A smile tugged at the corners of Y/n's lips as she looked at him. "Then I'll walk with you," she said, her eyes sparkling with warmth and sincerity.
As Jonathan processed Y/n's offer, a swirl of conflicting emotions churned within him.
On one hand, he was overwhelmed by a sense of disbelief and wonder that someone as kind and compassionate as Y/n would willingly extend such a gesture of friendship to him. It was a glimmer of light in the darkness of his daily struggles, a ray of hope that pierced through the clouds of uncertainty that hung heavy over his life.
But as he considered the practicalities of the situation, a nagging sense of apprehension gnawed at the edges of his consciousness. He couldn't shake the feeling that allowing Y/n to accompany him all the way to his house would only invite trouble. Grandma Keeny was not one to tolerate such liberties, and Jonathan knew all too well the consequences of crossing her.
With a heavy heart, Jonathan weighed his options. On one hand, he longed for the companionship and warmth that Y/n's presence offered. But on the other, he couldn't bear the thought of subjecting her to the wrath of Grandma Keeny.
In the end, Jonathan found himself at a crossroads, both metaphorically and literally, as they reached an intersection. With a heavy heart, he turned to Y/n, his expression a mixture of gratitude and reluctance.
"I'm going this way," he murmured, the words stumbling awkwardly from his lips.
Y/n's smile faltered slightly at his words, a flicker of confusion dancing in her eyes. "You don't want me to keep walking with you?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Jonathan hesitated for a moment, torn between the desire to confide in Y/n and the fear of burdening her with his troubles. With a heavy sigh, he shook his head gently.
"It's not that," he began, his voice soft but resolute. "I just don't want to inconvenience you. It's a bit out of the way, and I wouldn't want to make you late home or anything."
Y/n regarded him with a thoughtful expression, her gaze searching his face for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. After a moment, she nodded understandingly, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.
"Alright then," she said, her tone warm and reassuring. "Just know that the offer still stands if you ever need someone to walk with."
Jonathan felt a surge of gratitude wash over him at her words, a sense of warmth and belonging settling in the pit of his stomach. Though he couldn't bring himself to explain the full extent of his situation, he was grateful for Y/n's understanding and compassion.
With a final nod of thanks, Jonathan watched as Y/n continued on her way, her presence a comforting reminder that he wasn't alone in his struggles.
As Jonathan made his way along the footpath, the memory of Y/n lingered like a gentle breeze, offering a brief respite from the turmoil of his thoughts.
But as he neared his house, the weight of reality came crashing down upon him like a leaden blanket. The giddiness he felt began to wane, replaced by a sense of foreboding dread.
He couldn't bring himself to call it a home, not with the constant cloud of tension that hung heavy in the air. Grandma Keeny's presence loomed over the house like a specter, her disapproving gaze a constant reminder of the hell Jonathan endured within its walls.
With each step closer to the front door, Jonathan's stomach churned with a mixture of anxiety and apprehension. He knew that no matter how hard he tried, there would always be something for Grandma Keeny to find fault with.
But as he steeled himself to face whatever awaited him inside, a small voice whispered in the back of his mind, a reminder of the brief moment of solace he had found in Y/n's company. And for that fleeting moment, Jonathan allowed himself to cling to the hope that one day, he would find a place where he truly belonged.
As Jonathan entered the house, the air seemed to thicken with tension, each creak of the floorboards echoing through the house. He braced himself for the inevitable confrontation, steeling his nerves against the onslaught of Grandma Keeny's disapproving scrutiny.
Sure enough, as soon as he crossed the threshold, he was met with the sharp pang of her voice slicing through the silence like a knife. "You're late again, Jonathan," she scolded, her tone laced with thinly veiled disdain.
He hardly needed to glance at the clock to know she made that up. Jonathan bit back a retort, knowing from experience that it would only incite further wrath. Instead, he offered a mumbled apology, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground as he braced himself for the barrage of criticism that was sure to follow.
But to his surprise, Grandma Kenny's response was not as scathing as he had anticipated. "Don't let this happen again," she said curtly, her voice carrying a tone of warning.
Though her words lacked the usual venomous edge, Jonathan still felt the weight of her disapproval bearing down on him like a heavy burden. He nodded silently, knowing better than to provoke further confrontation.
As he retreated to his room. While he was grateful to have escaped unscathed this time, he couldn't shake the feeling that Grandma Keeny's temporary leniency was merely the calm before the storm.
As he settled into bed, the memory of Y/n's kind smile lingered in his mind like a flickering flame in the darkness. It was a reminder that even amidst the chaos and uncertainty, there were moments of warmth and kindness to be found.
But that moment of rest was short-lived. The tranquility shattered as Grandma Kenny's sharp voice pierced through the silence, demanding that he come downstairs to make her a coffee. Jonathan's shoulders sagged as he rolled his eyes, begrudgingly pushing himself off the bed.
-
Jonathan stood by his locker, the light of the hallway casting shadows across the floor. The low hum of students milling about filled the air, punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter or snippets of conversation. He slowly grabbed each book from his locker, the scent of aged paper and faint traces of graphite wafting up as he sifted through the contents.
With each item he retrieved, Jonathan's mind wandered, lost in the potential chance of Y/n walking past. He imagined the rhythmic tap of her footsteps echoing down the corridor, the soft rustle of her clothing as she approached. His heart quickened at the thought of her warm smile, the playful glint in her eyes that never failed to captivate him.
In his mind, Jonathan pictured Y/n strolling alongside him to class, their conversation flowing effortlessly as if they had known each other for years. He envisioned himself maintaining composure, staying cool, without the usual nervousness that plagued him in social interactions. Imagining her radiant smile directed up at him, he couldn't help but glance over his shoulder, hoping to see her.
Sure, he had only met her the day before and their only interactions were brief. Yet, in those fleeting moments, Jonathan felt a something with Y/n that bet any connection he had ever thought he shared with Sherry. The memory of his last crush on Sherry now seemed trivial and shallow in comparison to the depth of feeling he harbored for Y/n, he cringed just thinking about it.
Lost in his imagination, Jonathan nearly missed Y/n's presence walking through the hallway. She was a vision, just as captivating as the day prior. His heart quickened with anticipation, hoping for a fleeting glance from her. Yet, she passed by without so much as a glance in his direction.
Feeling a pang of disappointment, Jonathan turned back to his locker, cursing himself for entertaining such fantasies. He berated his own foolishness, knowing deep down that she wouldn't notice him. As he watched her move toward her own locker, he couldn't shake the sense of longing that lingered in his heart.
Jonathan couldn't tear his eyes away as he watched a guy approach Y/n at her locker. He felt a surge of jealousy rise within him, coupled with a gnawing sense of unease. His mind raced with scenarios, imagining the worst possible outcomes. What if this guy was her boyfriend? What if she preferred his company over Jonathan's?
He had completely forgetthen the about the possibility that she might already be in a relationship. A knot formed in his stomach as he watched them engage in conversation. He strained to hear snippets of their exchange, trying to decipher their relationship. His grip tightened on the books in his hands, his knuckles turning white with tension.
Jonathan's thoughts swirled with insecurity and doubt. He couldn't shake the feeling of inadequacy that washed over him. As he watched the interaction unfold, a sense of resignation settled over him. Perhaps it was best to keep his distance, to spare himself the inevitable disappointment of rejection.
As Jonathan closed his locker, he couldn't help but overhear the exchange between Y/n and the guy who had approached her. He lingered nearby, discreetly eavesdropping on their conversation.
“I shouldn’t have to tell you every time, I don’t want to go out with you,” Y/n's voice carried a firmness, her words laced with frustration.
The guy persisted, undeterred. “And I shouldn’t have to tell you that I’m not a bad guy. What have you got to lose?” he argued.
Y/n didn't mince her words. “I’ve watched you and your friends bully people, yet you’re gonna stand there and tell me you’re not a bad guy?” Her tone was sharp, cutting through the air with conviction.
With a dismissive roll of his eyes, the guy retorted, “It’s just a bit of fun.”
Y/n's response was final. “Goodbye, now,” she stated firmly, closing her locker and walking away, leaving the guy behind.
Jonathan felt a wave of relief wash over him as he listened to the conversation unfold. Not only did it confirm that Y/n was single, but it also revealed her refusal to entertain someone disrespectful like that guy. Yet, alongside the relief, a simmering anger brewed within him. The audacity of that guy to treat her with such disrespect ignited a fire within Jonathan. Upon getting a closer look, he recognized the guy as one of the same guys who had tormented him before, one that hangs with Bo. Aaron was a real piece of shit.
Jonathan's gaze must have lingered for too long, for the Aaron turned to face him, his expression twisted with anger. "What are you looking at, Scarecrow?" he spat out aggressively.
Jonathan felt a surge of panic coursing through him, his muscles tensing in preparation for confrontation. However, before he could respond, the bell rang, cutting through the tension like a sharp blade. With a sense of relief, Jonathan hastily made his exit, heading off to his own class, leaving the guy behind in the hallway.
-
Jonathan managed to navigate his classes without encountering Aaron again, a small relief in an otherwise nerve racking day. As lunchtime arrived, he found himself in the crowded cafeteria.
For Jonathan, lunch was a simple affair. His pockets rarely held enough spare change to afford a cafeteria meal, and even if they did, the thought of eating the food they served was revolting in and of itself. Instead, he relied on the sandwich he'd prepared at home earlier that morning. A humble meal, but one that brought him comfort.
In the corner of the cafeteria, Jonathan sat in solitary silence, a lone figure amidst rest. With a library book propped open before him, he stole moments between bites of his homemade sandwich to immerse himself in its pages. The book was a refuge, a small rebellion against the suffocating grip of Grandma Kenny's stringent beliefs.
Jonathan didn’t want to imagine the consequences if Grandma Kenny were to discover his forbidden literary indulgence. Her wrath was legendary, her punishments cruel and unpredictable. From stupid chores to brutal beatings. Jonathan shuddered at the memory of being locked in the decrepit church, surrounded by the menacing caws of circling crows. An ordeal he'd endured more than once for daring to defy her rules.
He barely noticed that person approaching his table. Jonathan's heart jumped in his chest as he watched Aaron's hand descend upon the table with a thud, the sudden noise echoing in the cafeteria. His grip tightened on the book, his knuckles turning white, as he braced himself for whatever confrontation was about to unfold.
Aaron's smirk widened as he snatched the book from Jonathan's hands, flipping through its pages with a mocking chuckle. "What cha reading, Scarecrow?" he taunted, his voice dripping with malice.
Jonathan remained rooted to his seat, his silence a stark contrast to Aaron's brash demeanor. Yet, beneath the surface, a torrent of emotions churned within him. Fear, anger, and a deep-seated sense of vulnerability.
With a swift motion, Aaron swatted Jonathan's sandwich off the table, the force causing crumbs to scatter across the surface. Jonathan flinched at the sudden movement, his fingers twitching as if instinctively reaching out to reclaim his meal.
But he held himself back, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on Aaron. He knew better than to provoke further confrontation, especially in such a public setting. So, with a clenched jaw and a steely resolve, Jonathan remained silent, his eyes betraying none of the turmoil raging within.
Aaron's smirk widened at Jonathan's restraint, clearly relishing the power he held in this moment of dominance. With a swift motion, he tossed the book aside, its pages fluttering in protest before settling on the tabletop.
"What's the matter, Scarecrow? Cat got your tongue?" Aaron taunted, leaning in closer, his breath hot against Jonathan's ear.
Jonathan's jaw tightened further, his fingers curling into fists beneath the table. He refused to give Aaron the satisfaction of a response, knowing that any retort would only fuel the bully's ego. Instead, he focused on maintaining his composure, willing himself to remain calm in the face of adversity.
As Aaron continued to mock and jeer, Jonathan's mind raced, searching for an escape from this uncomfortable confrontation. He knew he couldn't let Aaron intimidate him, not again. With a deep breath, Jonathan forced himself to ignore the taunts, his eyes flickering momentarily to the scattered crumbs on the table.
Just as Aaron seemed poised to escalate the situation further, a familiar voice cut through the tension like a knife.
"Hey, Aaron, leave him alone."
Y/n stood at the edge of the table, her expression a mixture of concern and determination. Her presence seemed to catch Aaron off guard, his smirk faltering for just a moment before he composed himself.
"Mind your own business, Y/n," Aaron retorted, his tone dripping with disdain.
"And you wonder why I won’t go out with you," Y/n shot back, her voice unwavering.
Jonathan watched in awe as Y/n stood her ground, her confidence radiating in the face of adversity. He felt a surge of gratitude towards her, knowing that she had once again stepped in to defend him.
Aaron's eyes narrowed as he glared at Y/n, clearly unaccustomed to being challenged. For a moment, the cafeteria seemed to hold its breath, or atleast it did for Jonathan.
But then, with a frustrated huff, Aaron shoved himself away from the table, casting one last menacing glare at Jonathan before stalking off into the crowd.
Y/n exhaled slowly, her shoulders relaxing as the immediate threat dissipated. She turned to Jonathan with a sympathetic smile, offering him a reassuring nod.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly, concern evident in her eyes.
Jonathan nodded, gratitude swelling in his chest. "Thanks to you," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
Y/n's smile widened, and she reached out to gently squeeze his shoulder. "Anytime," she said. “You wanna come sit with my friends and me?” Y/n offered, her voice carrying a warmth that melted away some of Jonathan's anxiety.
Jonathan felt his heart flutter in his chest. Was she really inviting him to join her? He glanced down, adjusting his glasses to hide the nervousness he felt bubbling inside.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just don’t want Aaron coming back to bother you,” Y/n added, her concern evident in her tone.
“I’d like that,” Jonathan replied, his voice soft but resolute.
Y/n's smile widened. Jonathan began gathering his things, carefully stowing his book in his bag before turning to his sandwich. However, his heart sank as he realized it had been scattered across the table, a casualty of Aaron's aggression.
With a frustrated huff, Jonathan began collecting the remnants of his meal, his movements tinged with embarrassment. Y/n watched him with a sympathetic gaze.
“Do you have anything else to eat?” Y/n asked gently.
Jonathan shook his head, a pang of hunger gnawing at his stomach as he disposed of the ruined sandwich in the nearby bin.
“I have some food you can have if you’d like,” Y/n offered, her voice warm and inviting.
“It’s okay, you should eat your food, don’t worry about me,” Jonathan replied, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
“It’s fine, my dad always packs me too much anyways,” Y/n insisted, her smile unwavering.
Y/n reached out a hand towards Jonathan, silently inviting him to join her. He hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness and gratitude, before accepting her gesture.
As they walked together towards Y/n's table, Jonathan couldn't help but steal glances at her. She walked with an effortless grace, her presence exuding a sense of comfort that eased the tension coiled within him.
Arriving at the table, Y/n pulled out a sandwich from her bag, “You can have this one, I don’t feel like eating two ham sandwiches today.” Without hesitation, she handed it to Jonathan, a small but genuine smile gracing her lips.
Jonathan accepted the sandwich with a grateful nod, his stomach rumbling in anticipation of the unexpected meal. He glanced around the table, noticing Y/n's friends chatting and laughing amongst themselves. They didn't seem to pay him much mind, but Jonathan didn't mind. His focus was solely on Y/n, her presence casting a comforting glow that made him feel at ease.
Settling into his seat, Jonathan began unwrapping the sandwich, the simple act of kindness from Y/n filling him with a sense of warmth that he hadn't felt in a long time. As he took a bite, he couldn't help but steal another glance at Y/n, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over him for her unexpected kindness.
-
It was perfect that he shared lunch with Y/n, not just because Jonathan cherished her company, but also because they had a class together, offering the perfect excuse to stroll side by side. With each step, Jonathan felt a sense of pride swell within him, as if walking with Y/n wasn’t just out of practicality, but because they were together, almost like a couple.
Y/n's lively chatter filled the air as they walked through the corridors, but Jonathan found himself lost in her presence, captivated by her every word and movement. Arriving at their classroom, they settled into their familiar seats, and Jonathan couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement as Y/n's arm brushed against his own, sending his heart into a flutter.
In that moment, Jonathan felt a sense of certainty wash over him. Y/n was meant for him, of that he was sure. Her smiles, her kindness, her very essence seemed to affirm his belief. No girl had ever shown him such warmth, and he couldn't deny the connection he felt with her.
As he sat beside her, Jonathan knew he had to ask her out. It had taken him over a week to muster the courage to ask out Sherry, but with Y/n, it felt different. She lifted his spirits effortlessly, instilling in him a newfound confidence. Though they had only known each other for a short time, Jonathan couldn't shake the feeling that she was the right one.
-
Walking out of class together, their steps echoing faintly in the empty hallway, Jonathan and Y/n exchanged casual conversation. Their last periods were both study periods, which gave them the opportunity to leave school early. As they stepped into the open air outside the building, Jonathan's heart drummed against his ribcage. He knew he had to ask her out. There was no turning back now.
Approaching the familiar corner where their paths diverged, the pair came to a halt and turned to face each other. The soft afternoon sunlight cast a warm glow around them, highlighting Y/n's radiant smile.
"Thanks for walking with me. See you tomorrow," Y/n said, her smile warming Jonathan's heart as she prepared to bid him farewell.
Summoning every ounce of courage, Jonathan spoke up, his words hanging in the air between them like delicate wisps of anticipation. "U-uh, Y/n?" he began, his voice betraying a slight tremor of nervousness.
"Yes, Jonathan?" Y/n replied, her eyes fixed on him expectantly, a gentle curiosity gleaming within them.
This was his moment. Jonathan took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do. "I-I was wondering… if y-you'd like to go out with me?" he managed to utter, his heart pounding furiously against his chest, his hands trembling ever so slightly with nervous anticipation.
As he observed her reaction, he detected a subtle change in her demeanor. The radiant smile that had graced her lips moments ago seemed to wane, replaced by a hint of saddness that creased her brow ever so slightly. Jonathan's stomach churned with apprehension as he realized he might have misread the situation.
In that moment, he felt like a complete idiot. He berated himself internally for being so stupid, for daring to hope for something more. Jonathan's gaze faltered, his eyes dropping to the ground in a gesture of defeat. He cursed his own foolishness, reprimanding himself for misinterpreting Y/n's kindness as something it wasn't.
"I'm sorry, I never should have asked," Jonathan murmured, his voice tinged with shame.
Y/n's gentle touch on his arm made him glance up, meeting her gaze once more. He was met with a look of sincerity and understanding, her eyes soft with empathy.
"No, it's not that, Jonathan..." Y/n began, her voice tender as she sought to reassure him. "I'm sorry, I do like you, Jonathan, it's just... I'm not really ready to date anyone at the moment," she explained, her words laced with a hint of guilt.
Jonathan felt a mixture of relief and disappointment wash over him. He appreciated Y/n's honesty, but he couldn't shake the sting of rejection. Nevertheless, he managed a small nod, acknowledging her words.
Jonathan's heart sank as he prepared himself for rejection, his mind already forming apologies for his audacity. But then, Y/n spoke, her voice soft yet firm, cutting through the heavy atmosphere like a beacon of hope amidst the darkness.
"It's okay, Y/n," Jonathan replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of disappointment and acceptance. "I understand. Thank you for being honest with me."
Y/n's expression softened, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Thank you for understanding, Jonathan. You're a good friend."
The weight of her words settled over him, and Jonathan couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth blossom within his chest. Despite the outcome not being what he had hoped for, he found solace in the bond they shared and the prospect of their continued friendship.
With a faint smile, Jonathan mustered the courage to meet Y/n's gaze once more. "I'm glad we can still be friends," he said, his voice soft yet sincere.
Y/n returned his smile, her eyes reflecting warmth and gratitude. "Me too, Jonathan," she replied, reaching out to gently squeeze his arm.
Jonathan's heart swelled as she suddenly pulled him closer, wrapping him in a warm embrace. His breath caught in his throat, momentarily stunned by the unexpected gesture. He hesitated for a moment before tentatively returning the hug, savoring the fleeting moment between them.
As Y/n pulled away, Jonathan couldn't help but feel a pang of longing, wishing he could hold onto the moment just a little longer. He watched in awe as she walked away, her figure disappearing down the street. Despite the bittersweet twinge of unrequited feelings, Jonathan couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for Y/n's grace and kindness.
He knew that she was the one he wanted to be with. Her kindness, understanding, and genuine nature spoke volumes to him, reaffirming his belief that she was worth waiting for.
As he watched her walk away, Jonathan couldn't help but feel a profound sense of connection to her, a feeling he hadn't experienced with anyone else before. He knew that their bond was special, even if it wasn't romantic just yet. And while he longed for more, he was willing to be patient, knowing that good things often took time.
With a wistful smile, Jonathan silently vowed to cherish their friendship and support Y/n in any way he could. He was willing to wait for her, confident that their paths would eventually align in the future. And as he continued on his journey home, he carried with him a sense of hope and anticipation, knowing that she was worth the wait.
-
A/N: Sorry this took so long to come out, as usual, uni shit 💀 (cause I'm a dumb ass doing a double major) I set this after the Halloween party, so Jonathan probably should have been more aggressive and all that shit, but in the comic, he's all shy and all that stuff with Sherry (before the prank), so I wanted to keep along those lines. I really hope I did this request justice as I loved it so much. Thank you all for reading and I hope you liked it as much as I liked writing it 💚
#fanfic#jonathan crane#jonathan crane fanfic#jonathan crane x reader#batman#nolanverse#comic book jonathan crane#comicbook jonathan crane#canon jonathan crane#high school jonathan crane#young jonathan crane#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy scarecrow#cillian x reader#cillian fic#cillian murphy#cillian x fem!reader#the dark knight trilogy#the dark knight#batman scarecrow#batman begins#dc scarecrow#the scarecrow#scarecrow#comic book scarecrow#scarecrow x reader
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I feel like E|riels genuinely don't realize how much their reputation precedes them and that enough people in the rest of the fandom (not just relegated to the Ship Wars) have had so many negative interactions on multiple different platforms with them, as well as them flat out refusing accountability and saying people are making fake accounts despite ones (especially on Twitter) existing for years and proudly proclaiming themselves as E|riels matters more than the Elain Week account saying "Everyone (except people who want to include Tamlin and/or Beron in their portrayal) is welcome!"
Because I remember people getting harassed on their own Tiktok videos about Gwynriel/Elucien regularly from the same 8 or so E|riel accounts. I remember self-proclaimed E|riels harassing the cosplayer who was hired to play Gwyn at Gauntlets and Gowns' event, body shaming her to the point where she had to make a video about it. I remember E|riels on Twitter insulting real people and calling them empty-headed, insane asylum escapees, and saying that users should try and claim mental instability in order to get their money back via health insurance claims for buying commissions of the "wrong ship". I remember E|riels on Reddit claiming that NSFW Elucien art should be considered depictions of SA, since Elain is "saying a clear "no" in canon to Lucien" and completely undermining the entire basis of fandom creativity and shipping. I remember those same E|riels excusing the harassment Gwynriel-related accounts with large followings get because they "don't defend E|riels" or something along those lines, shortly followed by more E|riels saying that the harassment and threats people have been getting on multiple platforms are "carefully coordinated to make E|riels look bad" and fake. I remember E|riels refusing to adhere to tag courtesy and understanding when they are not the target audience for something.
That is just my memory as someone who has been in this fandom for about two years now. Let alone the people who have been here from when the series first came out, or even any time before ACOSF.
E|riels are not operating with the clean slate they seem to believe they are. Cosplayers have had bad experiences with E|riels (even ones who make E|riel content!), for example. As well as fanfic authors, fanartists, average Tiktok users who make videos, Twitter users, Tumblr users, Reddit users, etc. Hell, I've even had my Tumblr account for upwards of 10 years, and it's never been wrongly deactivated by Tumblr before. Not until I started posting anti-E|riel content did my Tumblr ever get reported and then reinstated because Tumblr staff admitted they wrongfully terminated my blog.
So...how are they surprised or offended that people didn't feel comfortable participating in their Elain Week when so many of them are on thin ice as it is? How are they upset when people don't conveniently wipe their memory and trust their week that's already banning certain submissions (as if that alone isn't enough for people to not want to submit their art there? I don't even ship Tamlain but still recognize selectively banning ships is wrong) enough to participate? Saying people are welcome isn't enough when you're based in a community that regularly thrives on shaming and mistreating others, claiming they're the only "true" Elain stans. It's further not enough when people felt like their concerns were validated by the overwhelming amount of E|riel bias in the week's submissions.
If they don't like the fact that they're on thin ice, maybe they should actually do something to remedy that instead of fumbling every single chance they have to improve their god-awful fandom impression. Elaingate was their chance to prove they aren't as bad as the worst of them, and instead of standing for fandom integrity, creativity, and the right for all Elain appreciation and art to celebrated, even if it isn't how they would personally celebrate or appreciate her they doubled down and insisted on excluding others. And now they're playing the victims because they weren't the priority of Elain Day after they already had their preferred Elain Week? They weren't excluded, they just weren't the main concern because they weren't excluded from the Elain Week held this month. The concern was uplifting the people who were shamed or told they didn't care about DV or DV survivors because they felt that censorship for an entire community event based on a mod's needs is wrong and does not cater to the community enough, or because they're triggered by characters that aren't Tamlin or Beron and yet Elain Week didn't deem them worthy of the same "protection" that they "offer" to survivors triggered by Tamlin
They are why a second Elain Week exists. And the more and more they prove it necessary, the more and more I'm glad it exists for the people who want that safe space they were denied. To anyone hurt by elaingate, know that you are seen and there's a safe space in this hostile fandom for you and your art.
#elaingate#anti e/riel#antielriel#anti elriel#anti elriels#anti elriel shippers#anti ewriel#pro tamlin#pro elucien#pro elucien shippers#tamlain#pro tamlain
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Yknow what ? I think Byler getting Murray’d would be more heartfelt than anything else.
Because like-
Murray doesn’t just call out Jopper and Jancy because it’s obvious. He points it out because he knows they’re being stupid. In their cases, it’s really just them not communicating their feelings to one another and trying to pretend they don’t exist.
But with Byler it’s like…it’s different.
Because it’s not just that is it? We’re not just watching two people pine over one another whilst being oblivious to the fact they other likes them back. We’re not just looking at two people who can’t communicate well. There’s more to it.
Because they’re two boys who have been best friends since childhood. They grew up at the peak of the AIDS epidemic. They live in a small town and they’re expected to act a certain way. It’s different for them.
I don’t think Murray is gonna waltz in acting all holier than thou and essentially out both Mike and Will to one another. He’s a smart man as we’ve seen. He’s attentive. He doesn’t just call jancy and jopper out to prove a point he knows what they both need to hear so they can get over their miscommunication hurdle.
I think he’s going to go up to them. Either both or just Mike or Will or whatever, and he’s going to talk to them about it. Because that’s what they need. They need someone to talk to them about it. And I don’t think he would start with just directly talking about it. I think he (and this is me headcanonning Murray as queer) would open up first. Like about his own experiences- to show them that he gets it, and he knows what it’s like. And then he would casually bring up the whole byler thing.
Hmmm something along the lines of...
Okay– picture a conflict Mike Wheeler sitting by himself – either on the couch or on the floor or whatever. And, he’s stuck in his head. A lot had happened. He broke up with El and he’s struggling to grasp what he’s feeling about his best friend. And there's this…weird tension between them that– he just– he can't put his finger on. But they’re off. They aren’t clicking like they used to and Mike can’t seem to fix things.
So he sat alone, trying to understand or comprehend whatever he’s feeling whilst everyone else is god knows where in the house. Will was in the kitchen though. Mike knew that much. And then suddenly, he felt a weight on the couch seat next to him or the space on the floor beside him was no longer there and he heard the words of Murray Bauman pull him out of his thoughts with the weirdest fucking ice-breaker he has ever heard.
“Y’know…I was like you when I was younger.”
“Really?” Mike asked – mostly out of disbelief as he scanned Murray. No way. Not a chance.
“Oh yeah…” Murray smiled, nodding to himself as he continued. “I know it's hard to believe it, but I was this…brash, stubborn, reactive teen who loved going against authority. I was very...headstrong in my beliefs.”
He paused and Mike turned to him. Murray had his head down, looking at his lap silently, and Mike didn’t know what to do but watch or…more– listen to the silence.
“And…I was also in my head a lot.” Murray looked up, turning to Mike once before looking forward again. “I was angry at things – at people and at myself because…no matter how much I pretended like I loved being a freak…a part of me hated that I wasn’t normal…”
Mike felt cold. His heartbeat raced as he turned away from Murray – facing forward and staring at his lap as he continued to listen.
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah…I was-- going through a lot of stuff internally that I tried pretending didn’t exist.” He paused again – taking a deep breath. “I was…in love with someone who I didn’t want to be in love with.”
“...You were?”
“Yeah…” Murray laughed to himself. “Yeah…it was– well he was…my best friend.”
Mike held his breath.
“I fell for him. And I was mad at myself for falling for him. Because even though I knew it wasn’t wrong…I just kept thinking about how I wasn’t supposed to like him. Because that’s not normal– Well ‘normal.’” Murray airquoted, rolling his eyes. Mike’s eyes were glued onto him at this point.
“So…I grew angrier. And I took it out on myself. On him. Even though he didn’t deserve it. Even though I loved him– I just..I let my fear get the better of me and I pushed him away until I lost him…And I hated myself for doing that.” He breathed, another pause, before finally turning to Mike. “It took me a long time to realise that there was nothing wrong about loving someone.”
Murray tilted his head towards the direction of the kitchen as he raised his eyebrows – and it clicked to Mike.
“I..” Mike’s throat felt dry. “You know?”
“I had a hunch.”
“Is it obvious? Does he–”
“No, he doesn’t know. Your secret's safe with me, kid.”
“Okay– good.” Mike paced his breathing. “I just…I– I can’t lose him because of this. If he knew– if– if he knew he would–”
“He’s your best friend right?” Murray cut him off.
“What? Yes but–”
“Then. he could never hate you, Mike. Not about this.”
“How do you know that?”
“Call it…another one of my hunches.” Mike knitted his brows together.
“Look – kid, I’m not going to force you to tell him or anything. It's your choice at the end of the day. And I can’t say much, but it doesn’t take a genius to know how much that boy cares about you. And you care about him, correct?”
Mike nodded.
“And you trust him?”
Mike nodded again. “With my life.”
“So…all I can say is…if you trust him? Then...trust him with this.” Murray began to stand up. “Take it from me. Holding it in only hurts the both of you.”
And then Murray leaves
Anyways yeah thoughts––
#Byler#byler ficlet#byler fic#kinda? ig?#mike wheeler#murray bauman#lmao it's not the best but if I try and fix it I won't be able to focus on the actual fic im writing#this is just a concept if you will#this was longer than it was supposed to be MAJSMANAN#also Grammarly fucked my laptop so I'm sorry if I didn't catch any errors–
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I finally managed to put my overall thoughts about Playboyy into words and hoooooo boy do I have a lot to say.
I watched the mdl ratings go down, the blatant hate towards the plot, the actors, the scenes, the sex. There was nothing that wasn't torn apart about this series and yet I wasn't phased for a second and I kept wondering why because usually get very passionate about defending the things I love.
And then I realized that this series is the cinematic embodiment of a very lonely path that I've been walking for decades and I am already very, very used to the shame around it.
Sex is not just my special interest, I also had the privilege to grow up with excellent sex education (thanks parents) and on top of that I never struggled with my (pan)sexual identity. Sex plays a significant role in my life. But I learned VERY quickly that I should keep this to myself if I don't want to be ostracized or bullied.
"You're autistic AND you like sex? You like porn? What the fuck is wrong with you??? That's impossible."
And all the comments I read about playboyy are exactly the same just in different fonts. Ew sex. Ew kink. Ew porn. Ew sex work. Sex can't have storytelling, plot, it's just for shock value. We all read it.
And sadly it's a very accurate representation of the role sex plays in our society. Which - ironically - playboyy exactly is about.
Playboyy is a visual collection of all the experiences of lives and people in which sex plays a significant role - even the lack thereof (looking at you zouey and all you lovely aces).
It's a collection of very important social commentary, with all the characters, sets, plots and visuals as a medium. Because this way, the points they make come across even stronger and draw out all the emotions they want us to feel - which is in the rarest cases, pure arousal. Because this is, in fact, storytelling. Even if many don't want to hear it.
Telling stories about sex is so stigmatized and shunned, it only has the tiniest place to exist freely. Just like sex itself. Every sex worker, sex educator, sex therapist, everyone who has a profession that deals with sex will tell you about it. The shame. The misunderstanding. Look at the state of sex work and porn in the world. It tells you everything you need to know.
And it's happening in the middle of the "modern" western society - Yes I'm talking about you, UK and I can't not plug this here:
*btw I am not a sex worker I'm just very passionate about letting people not just live their lives but giving them a CHOICE to do what they want or don't want to do
I existed in this tiny place for decades now and I got really comfortable in my tiny lil corner, but to see a show like this go "mainstream" talking about all the topics that tickle all the knowledge I collected over the years feels so amazing. And I can tell you, all you lil smartass purists, everyone involved in this show doesn't care an inch what you think, just like me. We're used to it, believe me.
I could go on for ages about how carefully all these topics of the show are treated but what I actually want to say is that I find it incredibly ironic that a show that depicts the struggles and stigmas about sex, exactly draws out the reactions and treatments it criticises.
If you don't want to join in on the fun, that's totally fine. I get that it's not for everyone (just like sex, he). But treating it as a piece of trash just because it's a thing you personally find icky is exactly the reason the issues Playboyy talks about exist in the first place. Hence you can thank your stuck-up ass yourself that debauched individuals like me get a gem like this to enjoy.
And the fact that it didn't just find a crew, but also the funding and the mainstream distribution proves that I'm not alone in this.
It's not my lonely little corner anymore and I'm absolutely thriving on that. Cry about it.
#playboyy the series#playboyy#playboyy meta#and no im not using tumblrs mature label for this because i like to love dangerously and want you to read it
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Behind Closed Doors
IVE Yujin x Male Reader | (Tags: Smut) | fuckbuddy!Yujin
A/N 1: I am down astronomically bad for her. Thank you @kaedespicelatte as always for beta reading this piece.
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“Come on, let’s go out tonight! Drinks are on me.”
You should’ve turned her down then, when all she had in her system was a glass of champagne from the after party, when she still isn’t as possessive as she is right now—arms wrapped tightly around yours as she tries, and fails, to make her way back to the dorms. You should have remembered just how much of a lightweight Ahn Yujin is, and how it could spell trouble for you for the rest of this lovely night. Another rookie of the year award bagged, another round of partying, and another night spent with her. It truly is the most wonderful time of the year.
“Hmm you look good today.”
Even just a drop of alcohol turns her into the most dangerous woman on the planet—and with the dress she’s wearing that hugs her curves tightly, it takes every ounce of self-control not to make any moves that could jeopardize your friendship with her. Not even when she presents those inviting lips that makes you just want to drag her to a narrow alley and fuck her senseless. Not even when that intoxicating scent of hers makes her even more alluring than she already is.
Are you even just friends? The countless sexual encounters with her proves otherwise—from quickies in the practice room to full-on sexual escapades in her bedroom, you two have done it all.
A partnership forged by her desire to alleviate the stress that comes with being the leader of the most popular group in the nation has led to quite an interesting relationship with her, a relationship that you didn’t even think would exist.
“Y-Yah why are we walking so slowly!”
In fear of being recognized, you opted to walk her home instead of taking a cab; which might have been a bad idea considering her dorm is two miles away and carrying an albeit light woman who is constantly trying to grind up on you is not exactly what you need—maybe you should have just accepted Wonyoung’s assistance. And considering that you’re just as shitfaced at this very moment, your fuse is infinitesimally small. “Can you just stay still, Yujinnie?”
There’s no use arguing when she’s breathing down your neck, sending chills down your spine as you attempt to give her a piggyback ride. You grab onto her thighs as she wraps her arms around your neck and the moan she releases into your ears is only urging you throw all decorum away—not that you had any in the first place. If everyone just knew how much she bends to your will during every encounter, if only they knew just how lucky you are to have such an experience with her.
Sensing your distress, she laughs; a sultry laugh that only makes it that much harder to maintain composure. God, she really knows how to manipulate you. “Ohhh looks like someone is angry.” Then you feel her lips hovering near your ears; those damn, tempting lips. “Had a little bit too much to drink tonight, sweetie?” Look who’s talking. You shiver as you feel her softly nibble on your earlobe, wandering hands exploring your body as she tightens her hold around you. It’s a battle of who can keep their cool the longest and she’s clearly on the winning side.
“Can’t wait for you to fuck me hard once when we get back.” Maybe it’s the fact that this whole friends-with-benefits ordeal with her has been going on for a year now, but she sure knows how to push your buttons. But you’re not exactly doing anything to stop her, in fact you love it. Who else can say that they get to have sex with Ahn Yujin regularly? “I know I’ll definitely be screaming for that cock of yours.”
“Yujin…..”
She dismisses your words like the wind, a hand slowly creeping down towards your pants. How pathetic, you already have a bulge and you haven’t even fucked her yet. “What position are we gonna try this time? Missionary? That’s boring. Doggy style? That’s too basic. Maybe you eat my pussy while I suck your dick, hmm?”
You almost stumble forward but you fortunately save yourself in time before you end up faceplanting on the sidewalk. The imagery Yujin places inside your brain is enough to cause it to go haywire. But you must remain firm, any advantage given to her will only boost her already inflated ego. “Just shut the fuck up, will you?”
“The only way that happens is if you stuff my mouth full of that dick. Look how hard you are for me.” She doesn’t stop fondling your clothed length, as if the fact that other people can clearly see the sinful things she’s doing urges her even more. “I can already imagine it hitting the back of my throat. Or hitting my cervix while you pound me from behind.” A groan as she gives your clothed bulge a squeeze. “God, you’re so big.”
You grit your teeth, knowing that any words that come out of your mouth will encourage her even more. But your silence doesn’t stop her, continuing to whisper the dirtiest things right into your ear as you make the treacherous walk back to the dorms. Nothing she did made the trip easy nor the fact that you became more and more drunk as time passed by—almost falling to the side multiple times as she just laughed at you. Are you really going to endure such things just to get in her pants?
The obvious answer is yes. Otherwise you would have just called a cab like you should’ve and dropped her off before making your way home. But instead here you are, struggling to press the combination to her dorms as she somehow made herself heavier. Your legs are aching and trembling, your dick has been painfully trapped inside your pants for the past hour; at this point you’d want nothing but to vent out your frustration.
Forget the fact that all of the other members are deep in their slumber, crash your lips into hers as soon as the door is shut. The taste of whatever alcoholic concoction she consumed lingers on her lips, those plump lips that have been teasing you for the past few hours. Thankfully you’ve memorized the outline of her dorm to be able to maneuver the two of you to her bedroom in complete darkness—though not without bumping into some furniture in the way.
Thank goodness Yujin’s bedroom walls are soundproof because she releases a moan so loudly that the other members definitely would’ve heard by now. But it’s not like the two of you would’ve cared anyways—she’ll loudly proclaim to anyone how good you fuck her. She pulls you immediately into another kiss as soon as you enter the room, this time it’s filled with even more passion and lust. Fuck, you can’t get enough of her and tonight, you’re going to have your fill of her. And based on the look on her eyes, she’s dying to do the same.
She grabs onto the collars of your dress shirt while your hands fumble with the zipper on the back of her dress, trying your hardest to focus on the task while she moves down to your neck and proceeds to leave kisses there. “Shit, we’re gonna have such a good time tonight.” You’re definitely sure that she left hickeys that will definitely have to be covered by tomorrow but you don’t care at the moment. Not when you’ve finally undressed her, leaving her in black lingerie as the flimsy dress pools at her feet. Your eyes immediately scan her body, from her plentiful cleavage; her toned abs; her thick thighs; and her ridiculously long legs that you just want wrapped around your body.
A knowing smile from her as she can see your yearning eyes scanning her perfectly sculpted body—she’s got you right where she wants you to be. She knows that it only takes one little thing to piss you off and for you to end up right here inside her bedroom once again. “My eyes are up here, oppa.” But you are far in too deep, her intense aura captivating you to no end and with nowhere else to go.
A devilish smirk from Yujin, then a lip bite as she works on unbuttoning your dress shirt while you work on taking off the rest of your clothing—soon you are only left in your boxers but before she could take it off, you push her onto the bed. With how much teasing she’s done to you tonight, it’s time for you to get a little revenge. And perhaps, a taste of her.
You urge her to move further up the bed before diving in towards those lips again. This time swirling your tongue around hers as you give her clothed breasts a gentle squeeze. Whimpers and moans vibrate in your mouth as you move your hands further down from her tight stomach down to her heavenly thighs. Eventually, you have to pull away from the kiss to recover your breath. “I’ve had it enough with you. I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t walk.”
“Good, then you’re gonna have to explain to Gaeul unnie and the rest of the girls why I’ll be stuck in my room all day. How’s that?” She cups your length through your boxers and it makes you jump. Then that moment of vulnerability allows her to pull down your boxers and you shiver as cold air meets your fully erect cock, precum already dripping out. “I don’t think either one of us wants that to happen. Right, oppa?”
She leaves you speechless. Either because she looks absolutely stunning under the warm lights of her bedroom or the fact that the alcohol has completely taken over your system. But as she slowly wraps her dainty fingers around your cock, the only thing you can do is groan in pleasure. You need her more than anything else, an addiction that you’ll gladly suffer from for the rest of your life.
“Y-Yujin, shit…”
“Hmm, what was that? I can’t hear what you’re saying.” Then she begins to stroke your length at a delicately slow pace, causing you to fall back on the bed and for her to be the one on top now. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The sensory overload she provides leaves you breathless and scrambling. “You’re gonna have to speak louder, oppa.”
As if to punish you, she begins to stroke you faster, even spitting on your cock to lubricate her hand. But it’s hard to focus on anything other than just how stunning she looks in her bra and panties—even more so without them. A body seemingly sculpted by the gods and only yours to see. Fuck, you can’t wait to explore more of her.
Just the thought makes your cock throb in her hand and she could feel it, making her stroke you even faster. “Yujin, please!”
“Please what?” She then begins to move her face towards your length and the angle allows you to get a glimpse of her breasts and it’s causing your brain to go haywire even further. “You’ve gotta tell me what you want, oppa.”
And as much as you hate giving in to what she wants, you have no choice but to swallow your pride and oblige. It’s not like this was going to end any other way. You take a deep breath before giving her a pleading look. How truly pathetic. “Just suck my cock, please.”
Then she flashes that signature, bright smile of hers and for a split second you see the idol side of her. Though that mirage only last for a fleeting moment as you are quickly reminded of how much she changes during sex. “Good. I’ve been wanting to taste this dick the entire night. How could you make me wait, hmm?” She strokes your length for a few more times before hastily taking your cock inside her mouth. No time to get used to it, this isn’t her first rodeo and neither is it yours. Lean your head back in pleasure as uncontrolled moans and groans escape your mouth.
Yujin’s trained gag reflex along with the added lubrication allows her to take you all the way in easily, switching back and forth between sucking you off and jerking you off. Sometimes she would swipe her tongue on your slit, licking all of the precum coming out of you. Or sometimes she would fondle your balls as the lewd sound of her going to town on your dick reverberates throughout her room. Can the other members not really hear anything?
She pauses to wipe the drool coming out of the sides of her mouth and the sight of her ravaging your cock turns you on even more. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you? You better return the favor later, oppa.”
You’re supposed to be the one taking over and yet you melt into putty under her expert touch, the combination of her hands and mouth working their magic on your cock only serves to grow the familiar tension building up in your stomach. The events of this night are causing you to last much shorter than usual but you don’t mind, you want to stuff that mouth of hers full of cum.
“Of course, I-I am.” You pant, finding it hard to even speak. “I wanna paint that pretty face of yours, Yujinnie.”
Apparently that’s not the right answer because a disappointed look spreads across her face as she stops pleasuring you. “Listen, I didn’t make you come all the way here just to have that huge load wasted on my face okay?” Is she pouting? “I need your cum to fill my pussy, breed me.” In a flash, she strips herself off of her undergarments—now she’s completely naked like you are.
As expected, she’s already wet—her juices dripping down her lovely thighs as she sits back on her bed and spreads her legs wide. She licks her fingers before using them to spread her lips wide open, showing you just how ready she is to be stuffed full of your dick. “Come on now, oppa. I’m all yours.” Yujin winks, then another lip bite as she presents herself to you.
That only sends more blood rushing towards your blue-balled cock. “Fucking hell, Yujinnie.” You immediately follow her towards the top of the bed and crash your lips with hers once again. No more foreplay, no more games. You insert your cock inside her awaiting pussy and the familiar warmth invites you to start pounding her and breed her like she begged you to.
“A-Ah wait!” Yujin then wraps her toned legs around you as you vent out all of your frustrations on her, fingers leaving scratches all over your shoulders and back as she holds on to you for dear life while you piston your hips at an unrelenting pace.
You then bury your face on the crook of her neck as you roughly knead her breasts, continuing to stuff her full of your cock. “You like that, huh? Is this what you wanted?” For the first time tonight she’s the one rendered speechless, only giving you a curt nod as her guttural moans go straight into your ears. But you’re not exactly giving her the opportunity to talk, your thrusts only becoming more hurried and desperate as you trail your lips down to her left nipple and begin to suck on it harshly.
“Shit! Shit! Keep sucking on my tits please….”
You can feel her walls tighten around you as a response, such a simple action leading her that much closer to her orgasm. Her desperate cries of pleasure only increase in volume as you switch your target to her right nipple, sucking on it just as harshly while your fingers sneak in between where your crotches meet to rub on her clit. Meanwhile her own fingers are either clutching the bedsheets tightly or leaving more scratch marks all over your back, the continuous loud moaning of your name is the only sound that can be heard aside from the lewd sound of your cock giving her the pounding that she wanted. “That’s right, shout my name. Let everyone know just how much Ahn Yujin likes this dick deep inside her pussy.”
And as if it’s only the two of you in the dorms, she does exactly that. After a particularly hard thrust, she arches her back off the bed, her saliva-drenched breasts pressing against your chest as she experiences a strong orgasm. She squirts so violently that it forces your length out of her pussy, leaving her inner thighs a drenched mess very much like her silk bedsheets underneath. At this point, you two are both soaking in sweat but that just makes Yujin look even more ethereal. Her tanned skin glowing beautifully as you give her a passionate kiss while she comes down from her orgasm.
“Fuck–” Yujin pants heavily, laughing at the mess she made. “You never fail to make me cum hard. You should stick around more.” She wipes the excess drool on her lips with the back of her hand, taking a couple more deep breaths as she slowly calms down from her high. You brush loose strands of her hair aside, diving in once again to capture those lips as your other arm rests on the mattress to make sure not to crush her with your weight.
After the brief makeout session, she then lightly pushes herself off of you and returns to her original position twenty minutes ago: legs spread wide open as she sits near the top of her bed—this time she looks more messy with her disheveled hair, bruised lips, and her pussy still dripping with her juices.
“Now it’s your turn to cum, oppa. Take me how you want.”
That is all that you needed to hear from her as you gave her a quick kiss before grabbing her by the waist and flipping her over on her stomach, causing her to squeal. Take this moment to appreciate her curves, her wide hips, that ass that never fails to make you hard when you watch her perform. And to think that this is only for you to see still blows your mind to this day.
“What are you waiting for? Fuck me already!”
Right. It’s time for you to fill her up and considering how intense this night has gotten, it will certainly not take you long to reach your own climactic end. You proceed to grab her wide hips with one hand while guiding your cock–still drenched with her juices–inside her waiting pussy. Soon, she’s moaning your name again as you quickly settle into a nice and steady pace. Her buttcheeks jiggling with every thrust is a sight that you will never get tired of. But there’s no better feeling than having her tight body pressed against yours so you grab onto her shoulders with one hand to pull her in an upright position, using your other free hand to fondle her breasts as you resume your pounding.
The lewd position allows you to leave kisses on her neck as she reaches behind her to wrap an arm around you. Her alluring scent only drives you crazy as you continue to slam yourself into her pussy, her orgasm making it easy for your length to slide in and out. It didn’t take that long for you to near your end, to explode into a supernova of pleasure that can only be provided by the woman writhing underneath—you could only handle so much pleasure and you received plenty of it tonight.
“Shit! I’m so fucking close, Yujinnie.”
Hearing this, Yujin begins to bounce on your length with authority—her buttcheeks continuing to jiggle as the air in the room begins to grow hotter. “Fill me please! I want that thick cum inside me.” She then pulls you in for another deep, passionate kiss while she works hard to help you with your impending orgasm. “I want it flowing out of my pussy, I want it dripping down my thighs—”
“FUCK!”
It only takes her dirty words for you to reach your peak, vision going white as you begin to shoot ribbons upon ribbons of thick semen inside her tight, velvety walls—seemingly trying to milk your balls out of all the cum it has. Your cock throbs violently as you fill her to the brim much like she begged you to. You can’t count how many shots of semen you’ve left inside her but you know it’s enough as it immediately begins to drip out of her freshly fucked pussy the moment you pull out. You crash beside her right on the bed and you think that your night ends here but Yujin seems to have an infinite reserve of energy as she stands up from the bed just mere minutes later, your heavy load staining her thick thighs beautifully. She takes this moment to fix her hair once again for a few moments before reaching a hand out to you:
“Round three in the shower?”
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Everyone keeps talking about "traditional villains," but in retrospect, I wish Disney had gone in a different direction for the Revival Era. Hear me out...
King Magnifico's failed characterization and poor writing in "Wish" really bummed me out. I was looking forward to a complex villain who was kinda right. I was hoping it could usher in a new age of Disney villains who were more grey than black and white, who made the characer grow as a person because they challenged their perspective. But then I realized that the opportunity existed in earlier revival-era villains:
Dr. Facilier is a villain first and foremost, though thinking back on it, I do think he is kinda proto-Magnifico, granting people's wishes, only for them to find that what they wanted isn't what they expected. I do wish he tied a bit of truth in with his scams, mentioning (similar to Magnifico) how people's dreams are very difficult to achieve--especially in the post-WWI American South, particularly POC. Naveen is generally assumed to be a POC himself, so he could juxtapose this viewpoint as someone who's never really had to experience such hardships. Dr. Facilier could still be 100% villainous, but further emphasis on dreams, wishes, and hard work would be part of his character. However, this is the reverse of "Wish"; Tiana has already worked hard, but she's lost a lot of her innocence and light-heartedness trying to achieve it, thus causing her to reevaluate how important love is and how she may not have realized it, being more practical about her dreams. It all starts with a wish.
Mother Gothel was already right; the world can be dark and cruel, and will destroy any light it finds. However, similar to Magnifico, since she's completely evil, the protagonist she goes against doesn't really change to understand what she's saying. Rapunzel doesn't see the world as dark or dangerous anymore; it's the opposite, thanks to her experiences. Because of this, I do wish Rapunzel did have a bit more negative experiences independent of Gothel to prove Gothel's point rather than it being "hey, she's just saying that because she's the villain." Maybe Rapunzel tries healing someone and people start lusting after her hair.
Hans is DEFINITELY a missed opportunity. He was the anti-Anna; isolated and alone, and he became bitter and cruel because of it. It's mentioned that the deleted song "More than Just the Spare" was removed because it made Anna too much like Hans. I don't think that, and if anything, it furthers my point: Hans gave up on his brothers, who he felt overlooked by and pestered by (he doesn't even mention his parents). Maybe give Hans less brothers and feature them a little in the movie so we can see how they interact with Hans and how it's a "what could be" for Anna and Elsa. His evil character is exactly what Anna is trying to avoid, but she understands how he became this way rather than it simply being for shock value.
Yokai was a great villain to me, but the reveal happened too late. I'd have loved seeing a more thorough exploration of his character and parallels to Hiro (which were done great in the film; I just wish it was expanded on). Highlight how people quickly forget about the dead and don't always learn from history, how there's this cycle of loss and hatred that you have to break.
Bellweather was on a power trip, but I do wish she had a storyline similar to Judy and Nick, since--in an interesting twist--they come off as more interesting and complex than the villain. She doesn't really say what made her act like this, and comments that "fear always works." I wish we got more of that, especially to play the two sides card; Zootopia is mainly predator-phobic, and challenges to this, ie predators playing down predator-related crimes in order to get people to look past their identity (and the fact that many predators are in positions of power) may have caused Bellweather's abuse by predators to be overlooked, causing her to want them all gone.
Te Ka is interesting. Despite "Moana" being a great film, I do feel like Te Ka and Maui's storyline was underutilized. It's revealed Maui stole Te Ka's heart for humans, but from what we see, Moana lives in this ideal community where their heritage, culture, and nature is loved and respected. Maybe embrace the fact that Tala is the only one who tells the story of the ancestors and how being they became "comfortable" since they were no longer voyagers, being used to the hierarchy and their stagnant society. Highlighting some humans' selfish natures would've been nice rather than Maui just telling us about it, with Te Ka being a metaphor for the destruction and disregard for nature and love.
Namaari is such a missed opportunity. Despite caring about her community, she comes off as more villainous than an antihero since she doesn't show any sympathy or care for Raya--in fact, she seems rather smug about hurting her. By making her a villain burdened by expectations and love for Fang while slowly being redeemed would've been better to me, shifting her POV slowly, making Raya angry with Namaari but understanding her motives. Having some regret about her choices--even if she believed they were the right ones--would've gone a long way for Namaari's characterization.
Magnifico...well, you already know he could've been one of Disney's most complex villains. Horrifying backstory and powers that are the result of hardwork left him with a jaded view on wish granting. He wants to help others, but has MANY reservations about it.
This is just my POV, of course; some of you may disagree (or feel like the aforementioned villains already achieved what I ask for), but I do hope future Disney villains have that "they're kinda right, even if they're wrong" characterization. It'd be a nice new era as the successor to traditional villains and twist villains--though just like twist villains, this trope requires VERY good writing.
#disney#disney animation#disney princess#magnifico#king magnifico#the princess and the frog#dr facilier#gothel#mother gothel#tangled#hans#frozen#yokai#big hero 6#big hero six#zootopia#moana#namaari#raya and the last dragon#disney villains
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A Crack Theory About Maze
Alternatively: Everyone in Natlan is dead and I can prove it with 3 easy tools I already have in my brain
*Record scratch* I bet you're wondering how we got here. Well, it all started when I was playing through Simulanka and saw the carpet on the floor of Constellation Metropole. The pattern reminded me of player piano scrolls, and since my brain needs to be studied in a lab, that then reminded me of Westworld. (Slight spoilers for season 1 follow)
Westworld is a sci-fi-ish TV show about a futuristic amusement park recreating the Wild West, featuring interactive storylines where guests can act out their hearts' darkest desires. The only ‘people’ hurt are the hosts, who are basically the android NPCs of the park. Hosts are part of greater park narratives, and individually operate within their story loops, unless disturbed by the outside forces of guests. At the end of each day, the hosts are reset/memory wiped/repaired (unless the narrative says differently) and return to experience the horrors anew. The player piano is used as a visual and narrative motif throughout Westworld to represent the cyclical and automated lives of the hosts; similarly, the clockwork in Constellation Metropole represents the strictly laid out paths of the toys while under the ‘protection’ of the Goddess of Prophecy.
Convinced this carpet pattern was an intentional reference, and knowing that summer events foreshadow the new region, I flung myself headfirst into themes and narratives delulu (a season 1 rewatch) and during that rewatch I realized that a different Westworld plot point and visual motif might be what's actually foreshadowing for my mostly vibes-based theory: Everyone in Natlan is dead.
THE MAZE
The imagery of a humanoid figure in a maze is used throughout Westworld, explained within the narrative of the park as a Native American myth. According to the in-park mythology, the maze represents “the sum of a man’s life,” and the man in the center has been killed and resurrected many times, eventually building the maze around himself as protection. (Resurrection is a very common theme in Indigenous American mythology.) There is a human character who is trying to solve the maze, and for a time he believes the center of the maze is true death, something that does not exist in the park because the guests cannot be killed (by the hosts) and the hosts can always be repaired.
This myth is based on the real life creation myth of the Tohono O'odham people, where the Man in the Maze, I’itoi, created the world in an intense struggle and then retired to a labyrinthian cave on top of a mountain. In art, I’itoi is depicted above a maze, which represents the experiences and choices of a person throughout their lives. The middle of the maze represents their goals and dreams, and once they reach the center, they can look back and then pass into the next world.
According to some tellings of the myth, I’itoi was killed by the humans he created and taught. He then resurrected himself, invented the concept of war, and then brought the Tohono O’odham people to the surface of the earth to be his soldiers.
Fun fact: This creation story is actually referenced in ZZZ, with the Papago hollow (Papago is an alternate name for the Tohono O’odham people).
In Westworld, the maze is actually a thought exercise and model developed by the programmer behind the park hosts. His theory of consciousness was that it was achieved through a journey inward, and when a host reached the center of the maze, they would achieve true consciousness and be ‘free.’
Maze iconography in the Americas is not unique to the Tohono O'odham people - another notable example is the Hopi Tapuat. This labyrinth (technically only has one path) represents the human life cycle and eventual (spiritual) rebirth.
While researching maze symbolism, I read a few articles that mentioned Mesoamerican mazes being used to trap the spirits of the dead, but unfortunately, I couldn't find any specific source for that information. However, it is possible to connect maze imagery to the Aztec and Mayan beliefs about the Underworld. Multiple archaeological excavations have uncovered huge networks of caves, tunnels, and rooms underground that may have been built to represent the journey to the underworld and/or provide a location for rituals associated with death. (You can read more about this here: 1 2 3)
As for the underworld itself, both the Aztec Mictlan and the Maya Xibalba are described as containing all kinds of traps and challenges for the dead passing through - and can’t forget the ballcourt (in Xibalba at least). Ball is life. While this isn’t exactly a maze, I will argue that for the sake of this crack theory, it’s close enough thematically.
Smoke and Mirrors
You may have recognized the name Mictlan, because in Genshin, that’s one of the names for the Masters of the Night-Wind tribe, which can be alternatively translated as “Masters of the Mysterious Smoke.” This will be relevant later, I promise.
The Natlan craftable sword, the Flute of Ezpitzal, is described as being a ritual instrument of this tribe, and the description tells the story of how humans and dragons came to a (local?) agreement to ensure their survival. The dragons had fled into dreams because of the fire of “ancient beacons,” and when the humans asked for their protection, they offered the following:
"A labyrinth of mirrors and a fortress of mist, these shall we build to shield your tiny mortal tribes from the scourge of war."
The theme continues with the name of the sword’s passive: “smoke-and-mirror mystery,” and the upcoming Archon Quest “Beyond the Smoke and Mirrors.” The phrase “smoke and mirrors” is an idiom for distracting from something unpleasant, but in the context of Natlan lore, it’s almost certainly referring to the smoking obsidian mirror iconography.
Mirrors of all kinds were used throughout ancient Mesoamerica for divination and scrying-like rituals, including communication with otherworld entities. The most well known mirror material used was obsidian, which was also used for blades and tools - the black color of obsidian is probably what led to its association with smoke (also you can use mirrors to start fires). Obsidian mirrors were associated with additional imagery such as fire, the sun, eyes, butterflies, and caves as the entrance to the underworld. Mirrors were also compared to the surface of still water (a straightforward comparison) - one interesting example is Aztec writing that referred to Aztlan (mythical origin of Aztec people) as ‘the great water mirror that surrounds the great city.’ There was even a period of time where the mirror was used as a metaphor to represent the world itself.
This is similar to what Mona says about Simulanka: fate in Simulanka is directly based on Teyvat’s, and that “the creator made this world inside a mirror, or a lake, and this world is the reflection.”
Here’s where things start to get interesting: there is a Nahuatl glyph for the smoking obsidian mirror, specifically associated with a god who we’ll discuss later. The scroll-like shape used for the smoke is very similar to the symbol used for speech, singing, or breath.
This shape is also very similar to the older Mayan glyph for smoke - which happens to be basically identical to the symbol used for blood. You can see an example here in this famous carving from Yaxchilan:
The link between smoke and blood is actually explicitly referenced in the name of the Flute of Ezpitzal. Ezpitzal is a Nahuatl word meaning ‘gust of blood’ - eztli is blood and pitza is ‘to blow,’ as in playing a flute. Pitza is also sometimes translated “becoming inflamed with anger.” The ezpitzal symbol is made up of six streams of blood, ending in a precious stone, with a heart in the center:
The ezpitzal can be found flowing from the head of older depictions of Tezcatlipoca “smoking mirror,” the Lord of the Night.
The Lord of the Night
Tezcatlipoca is one of the central Aztec gods, associated with the night sky, hurricanes, and conflict, and the calendar. He was typically depicted with a missing foot due to a monster attack and a smoking obsidian mirror somewhere on his body. The missing right foot is usually replaced with a smoking obsidian mirror, a snake, or a bone. Tezcatlipoca has similarities to the earlier Maya deities Tohil (god of fire and associated with sacrifice) and K’awiil (thunder god), who is depicted with a smoking obsidian knife in his forehead and one leg replaced with a snake.
The smoking mirror glyph associated with Tezcatlipoca looks a little bit like the obsidian carvings in the Night Kingdom:
Besides for the title of Lord of the Night, Tezcatlipoca is Genshin lore relevant as the rival of Quetzalcoatl. In one version of the Five Suns Aztec creation myth, Tezcatlipoca and Quetzalcoatl are creation gods and take turns being suns and destroying each other’s work. Quetzalcoatl hasn’t been mentioned by name in Natlan yet, but his Maya equivalent, Kukulkan (“Plumed Serpent”), also known as Waxaklahun Ubah Kan (“War Serpent”) sure has. In Genshin, Waxaklahun Ubah Kan, or the Sage of the Stolen Flame, stole a seed of phlogiston from the dragons and taught the humans how to use it. He is shown alongside Xbalanque, the first Pyro Archon, on a mural, where they both appear to hold phlogiston. There’s something important missing here: How did the Genshin equivalent of Tezcatlipoca contribute to the ‘creation’ of humans?
In the 5.1 trailer, the Lord of the Night and the “protection of the rules” are mentioned. The only information we have about the Lord of the Night is that in the misleading Records of Hanan Pacha, he leads humans astray and is the enemy of Waxaklahun Ubah Kan, and that a cat in the Night Kingdom warns us against trusting the Sage.
The set of rules we know the most about are the ones created by Xbalanque, using borrowed power from the heavens (Ronova). These are the rules that allow humans to become Archons and inherit the memories of the land.
The other, more mysterious set of rules, are those that allow Ancient Name bearers to resurrect through the Sacred Flame with the help of the Archon. The Sacred Flame is a conduit to the Night Kingdom and the Wayobs, and is fueled by Contending Fire produced by battles between Natlan people. Given that Tezcatlipoca is a god of conflict, I think these rules mentioned in the trailer are referring to the Sacred Flame system of resurrection.
Therefore, at some point during Natlan’s history, the beef between the Sage and the Lord of the Night became so severe that the Lord of the Night’s contribution to the system of Natlan was intentionally covered up- which may be what Capitano is hinting at in the 5.1 trailer when he says Mavuika is withholding information from us.
This was a bit of a tangent, but I promise it’s relevant to the thesis. At the conclusion of the Five Suns myth, Quetzalcoatl descends into Mictlan to find the bones of the humans he created under earlier suns, and who were destroyed by various god antics, including those of Tezcatlipoca. He then uses his own blood to bring the humans back to life. Maybe my insistence that everyone in Natlan is dead isn’t so vibe based after all.
The Center
It is time for me to confess something. In actuality, these 2k words were elaborate setup for a pun.
Here it goes: At the conclusion of the K’iche’ Maya creation story, the Popul Vuh, the gods finally find the perfect material for creating humans who will worship them: maize. The hurricane god and the Quetzal serpent sculpt the first humans out of a maize paste, with water for blood. Conveniently, these two can be directly compared to Quetzalcoatl and Tezcatlipoca - further supporting the possibility of the latter’s important role in Natlan’s history.
Earlier, I mentioned how water and mirrors were closely associated, and how the glyphs for blood and smoke look similar. The Flute of Ezpitzal name and lore reference the protection of humans with a ‘labyrinth of mirrors,’ smoking mirrors (weapon passive), and blood through the word ezpitzal. The ezpitzal is also closely linked to Tezcatlipoca, one of the Aztec creator deities. Using this symbolism, the smoke and mirrors represent the water, or blood, used to (re)create humans. Which then means of course that the second ingredient needed for humans is maze - I’m sorry, maize.
And if the humans are made out of maze…well then they must be dead.
Sabre’s Fun Fact Science Corner (with bonus Latam literature section just for Schwan):
The Genshin writers love the story of the Hero Twins defeating Seven Macaw and replacing his teeth with maize - they’ve referenced it at least three times so far. The weirdest is the flipped version where the human priest Maghan sacrifices himself and combines his blood with animal teeth and dirt to create grainfruit (maize). Autosacrifice of blood in particular was a very important Maya ritual. I appreciate their commitment to keeping the maize cannibalism implications going.
The Narzissenkreuz Ordo associated lore has had multiple references to circular ruins and mirrors (which may simply just be the Alice in Wonderland reference) - however, we do know that one Ordo member went to Natlan looking for Something. “The Circular Ruins” is a short story by Jorge Luis Borges where a man tries to create another man through dreaming, with the help of a deity known as “Fire.” The story itself references Through the Looking-Glass as well.
This one is full credit to Schwan but there’s a Mexican novel Pedro Páramo, which was very influential on other Latin American writers like Gabriel García Márquez. The plot is basically that this guy travels to the town where his father is from to meet him and then it turns out that everyone in the town is dead. It’s very core.
It turns out Westworld season 1 is extremely HYV core - I just know some guy there saw the last episode and had their brain rewired, much like Dawei seeing Misato Evangelion for the first time
References: https://www.library.pima.gov/content/man-in-the-maze/ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/I%27itoi https://westworld.fandom.com/wiki/The_Maze
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So, what do you see in him?
THIS LUNATIC IS AT MY FRONT DOOR-
or
Okay, he's angry again. Alright let's give the boy a gold star for being a good sport ,that way we can avoid lawsuits.
These are common things Aran Ryan has been renowned for, ever since his new appearance in "Punch-Out" the Wii edition.
Aran Ryan, has been known to cheat, he's broken every rule in boxing and worst of all... he attacked THE REF!
But , do you ever think about what Aran is truly like when the spotlights are off?
Well, come to think of it, he was completely different from his NES version in "Super Punch - Out", where he was a bit aggressive but not too excessively aggressive as we see him now.
In fact the idea goes like this: "Something must've happened to Aran to become like this..."
And indeed, but not in the way you think. In fact this drastic change has started far before he even went into boxing. According to a confirmed Super punch out plot about Aran's relationship to his family, but more importantly how his violent behavior has started. The screenshot is from the Punch out wiki.
Link to the wiki
Not only that the manual confirmed how Aran's relationship with his mother has soured moreover how he became like his tormentors. He's violent because he does not want to experience his trauma again. And very likely Aran believes that his mother wanted him to suffer as she made sure that his name was spelled incorrectly on purpose, He feels unloved by his own mother.
It explains why Aran isn't just horrible to everyone he encounters but how he has learned to handle physical pain himself. in one of his voice lines during the match break, he says "Keep hitting me, I love it!" as he smiles while saying so.
He even punches himself to make a point that he enjoys getting hurt!
Link to original gif:
But the truth is, it's his act. In these screenshots after Aran gets hit by mac from his star punch Aran expresses pain, he holds his gut while trying to fight back.
Only to miss.
Overall Aran is a creation of a character broken by his circumstances. He has made a persona where he is feared and hated for his bad behavior, he has done everything to stop being a vulnerable person only to become one his perpetrators and what's much worse is what he does to himself to prove that he's still invincible even when its at the cost of his own well being.
Now come to think of it there are many fan stories of Aran having a loving family in Dublin , trying to support him when he's away and attending his bouts in boxing, and how he would return home to spend time with them on the holidays ;even though ,Aran's real story is not like that.
Lets end this topic with a picture of Aran with a decent smile
Is he perfect? No
Is he flawed? A bit
Is he a bad person? Not entirely
Even with aran appearing to be a terrible character in the game's universe ,he's still a character with a past that is tragic as it is surprising .Sometimes you wonder, "Does he deserves to be hated for who he is now, or hated because of what build him to be like this?"
-ArtformationCore
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