#arc 7 torch

[spindle-girl]

Torch (cont) 7.x

Kenzie's interlude. i cried

Victoria was a threat.  Not an enemy threat, but a problem and a danger.  If she talked to others, said the wrong things, then everything could blow up out of control.

Chris parallels

“There’s no paint on these.” “That’s because I know how it all goes,” Kenzie said.

so good

Sleeves pushed up, hands thoroughly washed and dried, sleeves rolled down.  Towels went back in the basket, which was dusted off before it went back on the shelf. Then, because she was looking for reasons to delay sitting down to dinner, she gave the bathroom what mom called a once-over.  She saw the glint of drops of water on the counter, hurried over to the basket to get one of the hand towels, and dabbed them up before folding the towel back up and putting it in the basket.

haven't even gotten to the worst bits and it still hurts this much. yay

“You’ll only agitate her if you’re there, and you really, really could have done better tonight.”

feels like Kenzie's kept that idea in her head in the present time as well

“Isn’t it funny?” Kenzie asked.  She smiled.  “We’re supposed to get powers when stuff like that happens, but I couldn’t even get that right.”

this makes me remember Alec implying his trigger event wasn't all that. arg, i can't wait for her to interact with the Heartbroken

“Okay.  You do what you have to do, but I want you to know I don’t think that’s bad at all.”

:') yay Vicky

Kanzi [...] “Kenzie, right?” the little girl asked.  She was barely out of kindergarten, and she had beads in bright primary colors worked into her hair at regular intervals. Kenzie nodded.  “And you’re Lizzie?” “Liz.  Um.  What happened to your face?” Kanzi forced a smile onto her face.  “A bear.” [...] “Exactly,” Kenzie said.

huh. i thought this would come from her adopted parents later on, but this tracks

“You and your sister are always super stylish and cool.  I wanted to let you know that.” “You’re weird.”

good old school

All words failed Kanzi, and she broke into tears instead.

same here

“The other thing we try to do,” he said, “Is we ask people if there’s anything we can do to help.  Is there anything you need, Kanzi?” She had to think about it. “Could I have a hug?” she asked. “Oh, kid,” Aerobat said.  “I would really love to give you one, but there’s a whole thing going on elsewhere, and we’re being told to limit physical contact until it blows over.”

god fucking dammit

“Kanzi,” Mrs. Yaris said.  “This is Keith and Antonio.”

thought this was a Legend jumpscare. wait, are these Kenzie's dads? how common is the name Keith

It would be a while before she saw her parents again?  If she saw her parents again? A light, fluttery feeling settled in her chest, and she almost didn’t recognize it.  She wasn’t sure there would be a smiley sticker in the pouch to represent it. A careful, uneasy relief.

:''')

They liked to sit on the swing near the barbecue.  If she situated herself right in her room, then she could eavesdrop.  It was nice, a lot of the time, because it meant she could hear them being goofy with each other, or if they were stressed out about money she could avoid asking for things.

never for the former, but samsies for the latter

“They’ve got a program running on your phone.  Controls the internet, messaging, contact lists, it also transmits your location, so they know where you are at every second.”

not great

how do i show somoene i love them ... “If I’d color coded these, the next scenes, set of you can probably guess, would be pink.”

oh boy

Everything was off.  Things at school were off, because she was trying to put on a veneer of normal when she felt anything but, practicing being ordinary and casual so she would be ready today, and people thought it felt forced, which only made her feel the need to practice more.  It was a feedback loop that had led to her being called creepy.

god

She saw the look in his eyes.  Wariness.  Fear. It wasn’t a new look.  It had been there from the time she’d entered his room, and it had gotten worse every time she’d opened a door, knowing he was there.  The statements she’d tried, to make it sound like they were on the same wavelength.  Over and over they’d had the opposite effect.

uhg

Kenzie’s legs kicked.  She smiled at Victoria. Victoria froze, staring. ... “Then why are you smiling when you’re talking about something so upsetting?”

she figured it out!!! (also i have confirmation i'm not misremembering things)

“I always smile when I’m upset or bothered,” Kenzie answered.  She swallowed hard.  “That’s just how I am.  It’s easier than crying, it doesn’t bother people as much.” “What do you do when you’re happy?” “I don’t smile, I guess,” Kenzie said.

not quite like Lisa but close enough

Victoria shook her head.  “You can’t live like this.  You can’t live that close to people that ugly, and not be affected by it.  It’ll eat you alive.  We’ve got to get you out of this house.” Kenzie looked down, then looked back toward the door, where her family was on the other side.

one of many lines to go back to when i'm not frazzled from crying/sleepiness

But Victoria was a friend and the rules were that she didn’t hug friends.  That threatened to cross boundaries.

Ashleyyyyy come back and kill Houndstooth

There was no hug.  Victoria listened when she said no.

arg

A goofy grin crept across Kenzie’s face, that she couldn’t wipe away or get rid of, for what felt like minutes.

ARG

End notes:

the more mundane dialogue from Kenzie's parents was really good. maybe i was on the look out for something, but it reminded me of people that would do the sort of thing they did to her. so uh, yeah

loved all the "super duper" stuff in Kenzie's narration

something about Kenzie asking for the Protectorate's help and they are now saying she's basically fucking broken and she knows that's what they're saying and internalized it sure is something

10/10 on Victoria's part in the first half. 8/10 in the second, but that's mainly because she didn't say a lot at some points and also "The moment you get a concussion" thing lmao. it's a guarantee apparently

that said, fully get why Victoria didn't hug Kenzie at the end. my issue is with other people putting the idea into Kenzie's head that she's-- however Ashley phrased it when yelling at Houndstooth earlier in the book. she's a person dammit and now i'm crying again

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Boyfriend Era is a Go

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

NOV 2024 Week 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

Jack & Joker (Thai Mon IQIYI) ep 9 of 12 - I have to say it, the heist stuff is stupid and all the sidekicks are idiots to the point of annoyance. But Yin and War are truly stellar at these parts. And in general in these roles. Can’t knock 'em. It’s been a year of some very good kisses and this has to have been the best. So this show is top of the standings this week for that kiss alone. Like srs boys? I mean to say, BOYS! How dare. Breaking the internet like that.

Honestly, let's be clear, these two have had killer chemistry since the En of Love and we all expected great things. And now, here we sit, suffering great things from these kings. Thank you, Sirs, may we have another?

Love Sick 2024 (Thai Sun iQIYI) ep 8 of 15 - I'm chronicling my experience with 2024 as compared to 2014 here. The Per Win story arc never interested me in 2014 and I’m not enjoying it now either. But Mick and Ohm are better in 2024. Nong Mick is a standout character, and a brilliant glow up in this version and he’s a confident little shit (affectionate). The mains are good too, but Phun and Noh always were great characters, and these actors are quite good. Possibly better than the original. 

Kidnap (Fri YT) ep 10 of 12 - More bf era delightful diabetes. They are the best boyfriends and the cutest family in the entire world. No exceptions. Next week is definitely doom tho. 

Every You Every Me (Thai Mon Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - Talk about making consent and communication sexy! *fans self* Whoah! That was unexpectedly great. The blatancy of the lust in this one was fun too. And the general casual switch nature of the relationship = delightful.

I like the little acting course we're getting from these tw. They are both quite good. I’m not sure I really enjoy the stories that they’re telling, but I do like how they are telling them.

Fourever You (Thai Thurs YT) ep 6 of 16 - Hill is the premier torch carrier of this year. My goodness. He sure nursed that crush. While I really like this main couple, I’m happy to have some of the others start to creep into the narrative at this juncture. Alone HillTer are a bit intentionally miscommunicative and saccharine. But the screen-time distribution amongst couples seems a little strange. That said, couple 2? No thank you. I really don't like North as a character at all. I find him incredibly unappealing. Ordinarily I'd be on his side because....... blackmail trope renders Johan automatically a complete arse. But at least this is 2 unlikable characters being jerks to each other?

Perfect 10 Liners (Thai Sun YouTube?) ep 2 of 24 - Say it with me Thailand: negging is NOT romantic. Frankly, Arc is just an asshole and a bully with anger issues. But…… Yay cute sides! PondSand they funny. (Book, to me = never very funny. I don’t think comedy is his bailiwick. Look, comedy is HARD ya’ll and usually not in that way.) 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Our Youth AKA Miseinen: Mijukuna Oretachi wa Bukiyo ni Shinkochu (Japan Tues Gaga) ep 1 of 11 - They’re doing some interesting stuff with the framing (both filming style and narrative) that makes this extremely old-fashioned feeling (like Takumi-kun level). I keep saying that this year, but it feels like BL is doing a lot of rediscovering its roots right now. This one even had a goldfish. And abuse. (The two, oddly, often go hand-in-hand in JBL ) And overall...... it’s a bit weird. Which I don’t mind from Japan. Japanese BL can get weird in a good way. Oh I like it. Bully meats smart loaner, total opposites attract, both are lonely and broken and NEED each other, and all that.

See Your Love (Taiwan Weds Gaga) ep 4 of 13 - Oh dear, our poor little rich boy is very broken indeed. The sides are utterly ridiculous.

My Damn Business (Korea Sat YT) eps 6 of 7 - I don’t normally like a love triangle, but I kind of like this one since it gave our uke a bit more depth and agency. And charm, quite frankly. So far he’s been a very dower character.

Eccentric Romance (Korea Weds Viki) eps 9-10 of 12 - Okay boyfriend era is a go. Goodness but they sure are adorable. 

Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 7 of ? - The slow burn is really very slow. To the point of frustration. But I'm still enjoying the show, just not as much as I was.

Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 8 of 10 eps - Even Japan is going through a bf era rn I see. How unusual.

Love in the Air: Koi no Yokan (Japan Sat Gaga) ep 2 of 10 - I’m slightly less annoyed by this one than the original (but I was VERY annoyed by that). I think mame is being tempered by a few things:

There’s so much less time spent on the back-and-forth, because this is a much shorter show, so I have less time to be frustrated by it and the utter uselessness of 75% of these characters.

Also, there's that innate Japanese awkwardness of portrayal & social interaction, which makes the unpleasantness of the characters' behavior and touch more understandable.

This, in turn, is married to the natural kink factor of JBL.

There’s a clearer Dom sub from the get go with this version, makes the blackmailing a little bit more tolerable because it's clearly Play. (negotiated or not) Simply put, daddy wants his brat to beg. And honestly? So say we all.

On a completely different note, the wardrobe for this show is terrible. Like truly bad BAD.

Blue Canvas of Youthful Days (China Sun iQIYI) eps 3-4 - Well I guess that’s that disability dealt with. Meanwhile, competitive bullying art students? I am very amused. Zoo date was cute. This is unquestionably a BL (I’m even more scared now). Still, the gay boys dealing with the straight dude’s crush was truly hilarious. So much "our gay drama doesn’t have time for your het bullshit." Classy move, I smell some Taiwan in this show.

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (Korea Thurs Gaga) eps 4-8 end - I was reliably informed this has an HFN end so I decided to watch. Noble and self sacrificing with both of them taking the blame.

My thoughts are...... mixed.

High school student Do Hoe lives with his brutal father who runs a Taekwondo gym. When cheerful Ju Young arrives to train, they fall in love. An unexpected incident forces them apart, they reunite over a decade years later. Essentially this is a brilliant narrative about finding love at the worst possible time, surviving chronic abuse, and the way we process mental, emotional, and physical trauma overtime. Yes it’s also a romance, but that’s not primarily what this story is actually about. I can recognize its genius, but this type of narrative is not for me. I’m reminded of bittersweet painful shows like To My Star 2, or The On1y One, or even Not Me. Is this BL tangential or is it some other genre entirely? Am I questioning my own taste because I did not like its content, or because I do not like its genre? And if it’s not BL should I even render judgment? I think I have to lean into the way I approached some of those other shows, which is to say: it is not for me but I recognize that it is of an extremely high-quality that is certainly for someone else.

Recommended, but only if you like masochistic cinema. Under those circumstances 9/10

(but know that if i were rating for my personal taste? 7/10 I’m never re-watching this, and there is a small part of me that wishes I never had) 

It's airing but......

Love for Loves Sake got some kind of special supposed to air 11/9. Not sure what, why, or where. Only the rumor that it...... is. I'll believe it when I see it...... literally.

The Hidden Moon (Sat WeTV) 10 eps - I've been reliably told not to bother, so I won't.

Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) 10 eps - I DNF'd at ep 7, I couldn't make it. I am weak. Life is hard enough right now, this show is making it harder. It’s not what I want from my entertainment.

Bad to Bed (Taiwan Sat YouTube) 10 eps - This is a little too low production value even for me. And just very very odd. DNF

In case you missed it

Uncle Unknown finished its run on YT. Censored Chinese BL with paralytically bad production levels. But certainly BL. Boys reunite after a break up only to discover one of them is the step-Uncle of the other. Much to my own shock and surprise I watched all 12 episodes of this. Fortunately, each episode is about 5 minutes long. Under those circumstances is it worth it? Maybe. It’s bad. But not offensive. So that's a win. And you know me, I love a weird take on the stepbrother’s trope and incest taboos. 5/20 watch it only if you have nothing better to do

Next Week Looks Like This:

Gosh there's a lot on right now.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

November BL:

11/15 Caged Again (Thai Fri Gaga) 10 eps - Penguin escapes zoo by turning into a human. Gets trapped again and a panther falls in love with him.

11/17 Your Sky (Thai Sun iQIYI) 12 eps - A naive freshman and the campus’s popular senior agree to pretend to be a couple - but their fake deal begins to generate real feelings.

11/20 Winter Is Not The Death of Summer (Thai Weds YT) ?? eps - Criminals who meet in prison fall in love

11/20 The Heart Killers (Thai Weds YT iQIYI) 12 eps - Jojo directs FirstKhao & JoongDunk in an action romcom about assassin brothers (Khao & Joong) who meet a tattoo artist ex-booster (First) and a mechanic (Dunk). I'm highly amused that Joong plays the older brother to Khao and that we have a take on the Taming of the ShrewBL. I like that everyone is morally gray. This has all GMMTV's best chemistry in one BL and some fresh concepts that I've only seen tackled in m/m romance novels (check out Amy Lane's Racing for the Sun, thank me later). I'm excited. My only quibble is Jojo, I like his style but his characters can get unreliably messy so…... this gonna be interesting.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

The insane level of his babygirl heart eyes.

Just, have mercy.

(last week)

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

[superhellstiel]

The Season 8 Destiel Meta Post Nobody Asked For (and why I think the writers had a Destiel endgame option in mind for season 8)

Okay, so here's the long version of this post that almost nobody wanted, but I'm writing it anyway. This is LONG. I'm sorry. And I want to start with it seems like s8 is polarizing, but I rather liked it, and I think it's because I live in the (delusion?) truth of this theory. Stay with me if you want to Believe too. I think Season 8 was written with two possible outcomes in mind; and with an endgame Destiel being the more likely of the two that the writers anticipated. Sounds insane, I am aware. You will need to stick with me here and extend some trust, but I promise I can show my work.

We need to set the scene: It's 2012. We are launching headfirst into the height years of tumblr fan culture. Gangnam Style grips the nation. Destiel is huge in fanfiction & tumblr land. However, interestingly, we're about two years past show's peak. Already once SPN was slated to end with S5's natural arc conclusion, but it didn't-- it was renewed because it was making the CW money, simple as. They have pushed on into the Sera Gamble era with Seasons 6 and 7, which have their respective flashes of brilliance, but all-in-all generally struggled to find footing in the post-Apocalypse Supernatural verse that was never actually planned for. It's pretty evident that the writing and plotting isn't nearly as tight as S1-5, simply because 1-5 was all mapped out from the get go.

It's been interesting returning to the fandom after a decade, because I'm finding a lot of people now who really liked Season 7. No hate, to each their own, and maybe it was just the circles I was in at the time, but in the moment S7 wasn't received well at all. It felt like they kept inflating the "big bad" to heights that sometimes struggled to get fully fleshed out (which, to be fair, continues to be a writing problem going forward). And while watching S7 in Netflix binge-mode it doesn't feel quite so bad, at the time having a year's worth of your fave TV show where Sam and Dean are systematically and pointlessly stripped of everything that gave the show its signature personality was nothing short of torture (killing Cas, the Impala, torching Bobby's place, killing Bobby), all in the name of more man-pain. All of that punctuated with a lot of filler episodes that felt like more misses than hits, the absolutely insufferable Amy Pond plot, and dick jokes just because the writers thought it was funny.

Everyone's opinions on S6-7 aside, though, Supernatural wasn't landing financially for the CW either. Season 5 aired on Thursday nights, which is a fairly well respected time slot for established and successful shows, but with Season 6 and 7 we see a demotion to Friday night, 9 PM ET. This is basically the kiss of death for a cable TV show. You sent your shows to Friday night to die. The CW was looking to the future with newer shows and the writing was on the walls that this circus was probably wrapping up soon.

However, in true Supernatural fashion, it wouldn't fucking die. Honestly, and I can only speculate here, I imagine such a die-hard and still-growing fanbase coinciding with a huge spike in social media + ease of access to fan spaces with the surge in commonplace smart phones/laptop computers is probably what kept performing CPR on this show.

So along comes season 8. The show is being passed to Jeremy Carver and Ben Edlund as a returning writer to head up the show. Other people have discussed the Sera Gamble era in depth, but what you need to know here, basically, is that the Carver/Edlund mind are ones that a) have not shied away from queer themes and b) are a lot of those Destiel classics. We're talking Ghostfacers, The End, My Bloody Valentine, On the Head of a Pin, The Man Who Would Be King (Carver), and Free to Be You and Me, Point of No Return (Edlund). Essentially, Sera's philosophy tended to be "strip it back to just the Winchester brothers" and Carver & Edlund were generally more open to having the surrounding cast of supporting characters. And these two definitely don't shy away from Dean & Castiel's relationship.

Here is where my theory gets a little speculative: I believe this is the point where where SPN was given one last hail mary by the CW. New writers and a Wednesday night slot, you have one more chance to make this work, otherwise you're getting the axe. It was renewed pretty late, in early May of 2012 (compare to S6 being announced Feb 2010). S7 had barely scraped its renewal in late April the year prior, too.

Okay, so let's put ourselves in that position for a moment as showrunners sitting down in the Supernatural writer's room in May of 2012. There are two things that might happen: 1) you just might pull it off, and you do such a good job you pull the show from the proverbial grave or 2) you don't pull it off, and you need to make sure the show ends on a satisfying note that wraps things up neatly. And you need to write and film a season that, until you get the yes or no from the CW, can do either and both or neither, and you may need to pivot in one direction or the other pretty quickly while you're filming the back half of your season.

Enter the Destiel endgame theory, which I believe was their scenario 2. Time to introduce the exhibits from the season.

General: Flashbacks. I wish they'd explored Purgatory more too, but it would've taken up too much time if they might have to fast-track a series finale later. (Also Amelia should've been all made up in Sam's head to cope with losing Dean but again, different post. Maybe it became a time constraint to explore too much too, if they thought the show might be ending.)

The evidence:

8x01 We Need to Talk About Kevin & 8x02 - & What's Up Tiger Mommy? We get flashbacks of Dean tearing Purgatory apart to find Castiel. When he finds him, he makes it clear he's coming back to Earth with him.

8x03 - Heartache- This episode focuses on the love between an immortal being and a human.

8x05 - Blood Brother - Benny/Queer Dean discourse deserves its own post. You can take or leave this one for this post's theory.

8x07 - A Little Slice of Kevin - 1) Dean is clearly hiding a boner when Cas gets out of the shower? 2) We introduce that Dean is deeply upset that Castiel didn't make it through the portal-- to the degree he's faked an entire memory because he'd rather it be his fault Cas is gone than have been abandoned by him

8x08 - Hunteri Heroici - Castiel wants to join Dean as a hunter; we're beginning to establish Castiel's genuine desire to spend his life with the Winchesters. This is then juxtaposed when Naomi forces him to stay away at the end of the episode, further telling us this is Cas' desire vs. Heaven's.

8x11 - Larp and the Real Girl - This is mostly a fun episode, but it's an example of queerness being gently nudged to the forefront of plots without immediate dismissal or being the butt of a joke-- rare for SPN at the time.

8x13 - Everybody Hates Hitler - Ah, the Aaron "He was my Gay Thing" moment. Dean leans all the way into the flirting. Does not give the "don't swing that way" speech, gets flustered, is at a loss for words. He appears disappointed later when he was wrong. This has little precedent on the show when Dean's been perceived as gay, he usually dismisses it very quickly.

February 11, 2013: Supernatural is renewed for season 9, a week after Everybody Hates Hitler airs.

Per these estimates, 8x18 is the next episode to be filmed post-announcement, beginning 2/12.

8x16 - Remember the Titans - A Forbidden Love plot. You can take or leave this one for this theory.

8x17 - Goodbye Stranger - OK, here is our inflection point for editing, in my opinion. The last month of eps, more or less, have been pretty trials-centric or one-off. This episode airs 3/20/2013. At this point, we know we're getting a season 9, but we've been building with all of the above, and this ep was filmed pre-S9 announcement... so much so that we have an "I love you" in the original script for the infamous crypt scene. I fully believe it was filmed and edited out in post.

Second, Castiel turns the walls of Naomi's office/lobotomy lounge the bi pride colors during the crypt scene. Someone on the crew at Supernatural literally tweeted that morning to be on the lookout for special choices in Naomi's office. It was very intentional. Why else pick these colors and declare they're intentional? (I have searched up and down for this tweet but it was rare i was there i remember it [the tweet] all too well please trust me)

UPDATE: Tumblr hive mind found it and it was Jerry Wanek saying they were… crosses? In the intersecting lines in the windows? (that's how lines work? lol) And it was amidst a spell of saying fans were reaching in their analyses, and though some of his replies have that tinge, it's not direct about the color commentary. I never saw the back half of that saga or forgot about it, didn’t mean to misrepresent anything! Either way I’ve been corrected but that office is still bisexual and you can’t tell me otherwise

And don't get me started on the "unicorn" stuff, that one person you'd throw everything away for (but I understand this can be interpreted in many ways) However, the season is renewed, we've picked the path they never thought they'd actually pull off-- now we've got to backpedal this Destiel just enough to not impact our precious CW bottom lines, but not piss off our faction of fangirls who watch to ship.

8x20 - Pac Man Fever - Charlie tells Dean she thinks Castiel seems "dreamy". Charlie is very gay and would only say this to elicit a reaction from Dean, we don't really get much of one. Again, lack of a "speech" on his sexuality.

*Note 8x18 Freaks & Geeks and 8x20 Pac Man Fever are filler eps, I think they could've been pulled if we needed the extra time to sprint toward a series finale*

8x21 - The Great Escapist - 8x23 Sacrifice- We hit a real fast escalation toward the season finale from here. I actually think this overarching plot was more or less always the idea for the ending, but how exactly it was executed depended on the renewal status.

The Alternate Series Finale Ending (That I believe they thought they'd have to do when they wrote it): If they hadn't gotten renewed, we are set up for Sam to close the gates of Hell and Metatron to use a spell to close Heaven using the heart of a nephilim (product of human + angel love), the bow a cupid (an angel that arranges love in humans), and the grace of an angel in love with a human. Hell and Heaven shutter up, Sam dies, and Dean is left with a human Castiel who has, for the better part of the season, already been "testing out" being a hunter alongside Dean and has literally moved heaven and earth to have this. He will not have to be the immortal doomed to love a human, as in 8x03, or have the forbidden love of 8x16; we receive resolution on those subjects for our heroes that the monster-of-the-week characters did not. They resolve their feelings for each other, because if we kept Dean's crypt "I love you" and we establish Castiel's grace was in love with a human... well, what else is there to say? (Oh, yes, and they did exactly this and pulled the Destiel trigger in S15 when it was all ending.)

The Actual Ending (That I think they got surprised about the renewal and had to do): Backpedal. Edit. Only drop little subtext again. We just need Castiel's Regular Grace TM for this spell. We can keep selling merch and con tickets and get views if we appeal to the widest audience possible, and we're not taking risks now that we've performed a literal miracle rescue from a Friday night 9 PM slot.

And once we start Season 9, we get a LOT of being hit over the head with Castiel & Dean's Heterosexuality TM, so much so it's awkward and even out of character. (Human Cas sighing about boobs in early s9? Like please. Get real.) It's a HARD left turn, but it makes more sense if you consider it all in the context above. I just don't think they'd have gone in so hard on the bullet points I listed if they had thought Season 9 was in the bag.

TL;DR: I think we might've had Destiel in 2013, but if we had, we wouldn't have also had the rest of the seasons. Whether or not that's a good thing is up to you, but I think it was a combination of a lot of external factors, capitalism, and, well, it being 2013, sadly. I think they were cowards about it, but at the same time, even the writers probably weren't pulling every string, they also needed to answer to other agendas. Television is a medium that is rife with the push and pulls of a thousand factors that aren't the pure story. Idk how to really wrap this, but this has been over ten years in the making so enjoy the fruits of my brain rot.

[magiowlio]

thoughts on this update and references i found!! a lot of references to the games. like. A LOT. i feel like i might have missed some 😭

first time doing one of these posts because usually i am comically late to see each update-

under the cut bc. i ended up yapping more than i thought i would

legend worrying about twi!! i love how he's teasing but you can tell he definitely cares about both of them

"does he still give you trouble" i think this is a reference back to that one post where twi tells sky not to let legend push him around, and sky tells him that people like legend aren't bullies

SKY'S SASS?? HIM ACTING LIKE A RABBIT?? GOD I LOVE THE HERO OF SASS

the way jojo gives them each their own body language! i might have missed some, but wars standing with one hand on his hip, wild doing the thing where he ruffles the back of his hair (he does this in gerudo town as well! i remember some of the others like sky and wind doing this in their games, i don't think it's out of embarrassment though) and twilight playfully pushing wild and saying "get out of here!" which he also did with wars in the dawn arc! he also puts his hand on other's shoulders A LOT. he's done it with wild a good few times, and legend, hyrule, and wars if i remember correctly

"you good?" "yeah" "no, are you good?" i think something similar occurred with four and twilight when they were leaving the inn as well!

"how you handle the world around you separates a boy from a man, it's not the battles you win but how you choose to endure what is set before you" i thought the first part of what time said could be a reference to ocarina of time with the 7 yr time jump, bc try and tell me he didn't have to suddenly start handling the world around him differently after how different everything was when he woke up...and speaking of handling things differently, botw is the game where there's so many different ways to handle each scenario! so it's cool that this is what he's choosing to say to wild, because he'd probably understand that you can approach one problem from many directions

twilight and wild. they're so brothers!!! they're so relaxed and casual with each other! i feel like this is gonna be a HUGE contrast to when wild splits up with wars

again with twi and wild, the fact that neither of them want to be paired with wars is sending me oh my god...and wild imitating twilight from when they entered the dungeon is!!! i definitely laughed at that part LOL (i laughed at multiple parts. this whole update is filled with silly moments oh my gosh)

references to their games as they split off!! wild with his torch, the shot of sky from the back and then to him steeling himself to enter (just like with all the sksw dungeons!!) and wind yelling "come on!" at time just like he did in wind waker! legend, twilight, and four with the lanterns (alltp, albw, tp, and fsa had lanterns!) and hyrule with the candle from loz and taol!!

again with the lanterns! (i might be looking too far into this...) wind looking kind of nervously at four, wind waker had lanterns hanging in really dark areas that surrounded link in a little bit of light so the player can see a bit of the surroundings. another thing i think might be making wind a little nervous is that the moblins in wind waker also held lanterns that looked similar (if im remembering correctly 💀)

i've seen a good few people talking about how time is talking more like the heroes shade as he worries about twi and i def agree! "and be safe..." PLEASE HE'S SO STRESSED GIVE THIS MAN A BREAK

[lomappreciationblog]

I know I've been kinda talking willy-nilly about all the spoilers for the major story arcs, and maybe it's a moot point when this game has been out for 25 years, but uh. Lots and lots of spoilers for all 3 major story arcs in this post!

Since I mentioned it in the Punkmaster post, I decided I might as well talk about this, but the three major story arcs have special title cards for some of their quests. A dragon for the Dragon Arc, a jewel for the Jumi Arc, and a Faerie for the Star-Crossed Lovers arc (which is why I sometimes refer to it as the Faerie Arc). The colors for these illustrations change too, depending on the quest.

I...actually don't know why only some particular quests in the Jumi and Star-Crossed Lovers are given these special title cards? Say, for the Jumi Arc, the first one to get this special title card is The Looking-Glass Tower, but even before that we have The Lost Princess and the Flame of Hope, so it seems strange this is what gets the special title card. Of all Jumi quests, the ones that get these title cards are The Looking Glass Tower, Cosmo, Alexandrite, Fluorite and Teardrop Crystal, while The Lost Princess, The Flame of Hope, The Lucky Clover, and Two Pearls don't have these. (there is also Drowned Dreams, but it's connection to the overall arc is not as significant).

Hmm...I think the colors might have significance here...The Looking Glass Tower is white, like Pearl's core, and it's a quest about her looking for her identity. Cosmo and Alexandrite are the two colors associated with Alexandrite, green and purple, and fittingly enough both quests have him/her/them (?) taking a major role. Fluorite is a milder green color - while real fluorites come in a range of colors, Florina's clothes are in that green/blue-green color color. Teardrop Crystal is blue, which might be for the water of tears...but also could be for Elazul, since he does call on everyone to return the favor and give a Teardrop Crystal back to cure the protagonist.

Star-Crossed Lovers is a bit more complete, with only two related quests not getting these title cards. The ones with are The Murmuring Forest, Two Torches, In Search of Faeries, Star-Crossed Lovers and Heaven's Gate, with only The Wisdom of Gaeus and Pokiehl Dream Teller not having them.

(sorry, I apparently didn't have a screenshot for The Wisdom of Gaeus, but I know it doesn't have the Faerie illustration.) I'm not sure if the colors have as much significance here - this could be stretching it but...Matilda's color theme in her younger years is green, and then orange in her older years, while Irwin's is red. Huh, I just realized Matilda's older self wears a color closer to Irwin, while her younger self shared a color theme with Escad. Escad has three colors associated with his, though, his clothes mostly green, but there is also a large part that is purple, and lastly his hair is white. Daena wears blue clothes - all of their garments' colors pop up in in the title cards.

The Dragon Arc...has all of its quests labeled with the special title card, so hooray, perfect attendance!

The colors for these ones are easy, red for Drakonis, blue for Akravator, dark purple for Jajara given his association with death, and silver for Vadise and Sierra.

Hm...if I take it that the Dragon Arc is a "tutorial" of sorts to clue in players to the major arc quests, maybe this explains why not all quests in the other two arcs have them? So you're meant to piece them together? That's just me speculating, because I can't think of a lore reason to not label all the quests above. This does put in retrospect how massive the Jumi Arc is: the Dragon Arc has 5 quests, Star-Crossed Lovers has 7, and the Jumi arc has 9, and if you include Drowned Dreams, 10.

[amaris-whisperer]

MOONFIRE l Aemond Targaryen x Reader (EP.7)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen and OC

Warnings: Assassination attempt, blood

Episode VlI – “Cost of the Flame” In the wake of blood and betrayal, mercy becomes the most dangerous weapon. --

The hallway should have been empty.

She knew it the moment the shadows shifted—too swift, too deliberate—like a predator stalking in silence. The flickering torchlight cast fractured reflections across the cold stone walls, dancing off steel that gleamed too suddenly. Emberyn’s breath hitched as instinct screamed at her to flee, to call out—anything—before it was too late.

She turned, voice barely caught in her throat, ready to scream, but the blade was already there.

A sharp, wet sound sliced through the night like a cruel whisper of death.

Pain exploded in her side—searing, burning, and then a strange warmth, spreading like wildfire beneath her skin. Her silk gown was drenched before she could even comprehend the injury. The world tilted, the stones beneath her feet seeming to ripple like a mirage.

She stumbled backward, collapsing against the cold stone, gasping, trying desperately to summon Valaeryn with her mind alone. The bond flickered—weak, fragile—like a dying star barely holding its light against the dark. Panic clawed at her chest as her strength faltered.

A merciless hand yanked her hair, wrenching her upright, and the cold steel of the attacker’s blade rose, poised to deliver the final, merciless strike.

And then—

The air shattered.

A roar ripped through the corridor—raw and ferocious, not the thunderous cry of dragons, but a man’s fury unleashed.

Aemond appeared as if born of war itself, descending like a tempest. His sword flashed in a deadly arc, cleaving through one attacker before the man even turned. The second assailant recoiled in shock and pain as Aemond’s other hand seized a fallen torch, flames roaring as he slammed it into the man’s face. The attacker screamed, staggering back before fleeing into the darkness.

Outside, Vhagar’s landing shook the castle with a sound like the end of days—earth trembling beneath monstrous wings. Valeryn also struggled and groaned loudly.

The halls echoed with a cacophony of steel, cries, and chaos. But Aemond’s world narrowed—until all he could see was her.

Crimson soaked her silks. She was crumpled against the wall, barely conscious, breath shallow. The sight shattered something deep inside him, a fracture made of fear and fierce desperation.

He fell to his knees beside her, trembling hands pressed over the wound, trying to stem the flow of life slipping away. “Stay awake,” he hissed, voice raw, almost breaking. “Stay with me, Emberyn. Don’t you dare—” His fingers pressed harder, panic rising in his eyes. She whimpered, a fragile sound like a dying breeze.

His gaze burned with a fury hotter than dragonfire. “Guards!” he roared, voice ringing through the halls like a warhorn. “Now! Bring help!”

The world around them blurred—flames licking the walls, footsteps pounding toward them, distant shouts echoing.

But Aemond’s focus remained unshaken, anchored to her fragile form, willing her to hold on, to fight, to survive.

-- The healer’s hands trembled slightly as he worked, the weight of the moment pressing down on him like a storm. Years of skill guided his fingers with careful precision, but the cold steel blade pressed at his throat sharpened every movement, turning each stitch into a knife’s edge.

“If she dies,” Aemond said, voice low and steady, but with an unyielding edge, “you do too.”

The man’s breath caught in his throat, and his face went pale. He swallowed hard, nodding once with a shaky resolve. With renewed urgency, he bent over Emberyn, redoubling his efforts, his hands moving faster, yet no less careful, as he worked to staunch the bleeding and mend torn flesh. Every second was a battle against death.

The chamber was thick with tension. Flickering torchlight cast uneasy shadows on the cold stone walls, mingling with the faint scent of blood and herbs. Emberyn lay pale and still on the bed, her breath shallow but steady. The faint rise and fall of her chest was all that tethered hope to despair.

Outside the bed, the air felt electric with anticipation. The guards stood rigid, their eyes flicking nervously between the healer and Aemond, who remained like a statue, his jaw clenched so tight it seemed it might crack. His hands gripped the hilt of his sword, knuckles white.

Only when the healer finally finished—binding the wound tightly and administering a sedative to ease Emberyn’s pain—did Aemond slowly, deliberately sheath his sword. The metallic scrape echoed sharply in the quiet room, cutting through the heavy silence like a thunderclap. Every man in the room flinched at the sound, as if the very noise carried a warning.

Then came a stillness so profound it swallowed every breath and heartbeat.

One by one, the figures in the room began to retreat. The guards stepped back first, their boots making soft noises on the stone floor. The maids, eyes wide and faces pale, followed silently. Even Lord Derek Rivendale lingered, his presence heavy and conflicted, before he finally moved toward the doorway.

He paused there, uncertain, as if torn between anger and fear. His gaze flickered to Aemond, seeking some sign of truce or reprieve. But Aemond didn’t look at him—not once. His dark eyes remained locked on Emberyn’s fragile form.

With a final clenched jaw, Lord Rivendale turned away, his eyes lowered in quiet defeat. The door swung shut behind him with a weight that seemed to seal the room’s fragile sanctuary.

At last, Aemond exhaled—long and slow—the first breath he’d allowed himself in hours. The tension that had coiled tight in his muscles loosened, if only slightly.

He moved to her bedside, every step deliberate and careful, as if afraid to break the fragile spell. Pulling a chair close to the bed, he sat down with a heavy sigh, the wooden seat creaking under his weight. His hands rested on his knees—still stained dark with blood. Not just hers, but theirs. The blood of the men who had tried to kill her and the blood he had shed to protect her.

His eye never left her face.

Not once.

Every shallow breath she took was a victory, every twitch of a finger a silent promise. He waited, watching, guarding the fragile thread that held her to this world—and to him.

-- The mansion moved around Aemond Targaryen with an almost reverent caution, as if the very stones sensed the fragile balance hanging in the air. Corridors fell quieter, footsteps lighter. Servants glanced furtively toward the prince’s chambers and quickly averted their eyes, unwilling to disturb the storm that raged unseen within. Even Valaeryn, the great dragon who had once ruled the skies here, perched silently on the cliffs overlooking Rhaelyria, her immense shadow stretching over the land without a single protest as Vhagar coiled protectively beneath her.

Inside the mansion’s ancient stone walls, Aemond was a man transformed—no longer the fierce dragonrider known for his fire and fury, but something more restrained, more desperate. He did not leave Emberyn’s room. He barely left her side, as if by proximity alone he could shield her from the darkness clawing at her life.

When food was brought, untouched trays were left by the door. The courtiers’ urgent reports, delivered with hushed urgency, were met with a dismissive wave or a silent glare that sent messengers stumbling back down the halls. The world outside her chamber had shrunk to this narrow, perilous bubble of time and breath.

Only the healer was allowed passage, slipping in and out under Aemond’s watchful, searing gaze—each visit marked by a silent interrogation, every movement scrutinized for signs of progress or failure. The healer’s face remained pale and drawn, the tension in his shoulders betraying the urgency no one dared voice aloud.

Rickon Stark did not come. Not once. His absence echoed louder than any confrontation, a ghost in the shadows that no one could explain. Rumors fluttered through the castle like restless birds—whispers of respect, fear, or calculation—but none dared approach the prince’s chambers to see for themselves.

Lord Rivendale made two attempts to breach the walls around Aemond, but the second time, he was met with a look so cold and unyielding, a silent threat that stripped away all pretense. His face went pale, and he retreated with a low murmur, leaving the prince to his vigil.

And so the days passed.

Emberyn lay wrapped in stillness, unaware of the tempest her fate had unleashed. Her chest rose and fell in slow, even rhythms beneath pale silks, the quiet cadence of life hanging by a thread.

Aemond sat by her side like a beast caged, his patience boundless but taut—every breath she took was counted with a careful reverence. Every slight twitch of her fingers was etched deep into his memory. His dark eyes never wavered from her face, tracing every contour, every line, as if by knowing her so intimately, he could keep the shadows at bay.

He was waiting for something—anything—to break through the fragile barrier of unconsciousness.

Waiting for her to return.

For her to open her eyes and anchor him to the world again.

For Emberyn.

-- She stirred first—a flicker beneath the veil of unconsciousness, a soft groan slipping past cracked lips. The room was dim, dawn barely brushing the frost-laced windows with pale fingers. The heavy silence wrapped around Aemond like a second skin, his figure still as stone beside her bed, watching with bated breath through the fragile curtain of her fluttering lashes.

Then, slowly, her eyelids lifted.

A sharp wince crossed her features, pain flickering across her pale face. She breathed in shallow, uneven gasps, each breath a small victory. Her throat moved as she swallowed carefully, gathering strength for the moment.

And then—her gaze met his.

“Aemond?” Her voice was a hoarse rasp, fragile yet unmistakable.

In an instant, he was on his feet, crossing the room with the quiet swiftness of wind over still water. He dropped to his knees beside her, eyes dark and intense, all the war and worry of the past hours distilled into a single look.

Her hand rose slowly, trembling, as if testing the air. When her fingers brushed his cheek, he made no move to pull away. The roughness of his skin against her delicate touch was grounding—real.

“You stayed,” she whispered, disbelief threading her words.

His jaw tightened, and his hands clenched behind his back in silent restraint, muscles taut like coiled steel. “I had to,” he said softly, every syllable weighted with a fierce devotion. “Anything else would have been treason—against you, against myself.”

She smiled faintly, a breath of warmth in the cold room. “Liar.”

Her fingers moved again, this time reaching for the collar of his tunic, tugging gently. He yielded without hesitation, as if surrendering was the only choice left.

When their lips met, the kiss was not tender or sweet—it was raw and urgent. It tasted of iron and wildfire, a fierce blend of blood and flame. It was not the kiss of lovers lost in softness but of survivors clinging to each other in a world gone to ash.

They kissed like those who had faced death and returned, with nothing left but the language of desperate touch.

Her hands wound into his hair, anchoring herself to him. His arms circled her, a fortress of warmth and silent promises. Time fractured and lost meaning. In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist—the past, the pain, the dangers that lurked beyond these walls all faded into shadows.

Yet even in the intensity of their union, a fragile tension lingered beneath the surface—too much and never enough all at once.

When they finally parted, breathless and trembling, the air between them was charged. Sacred. Scarred.

Burning.

Words failed them, but in their eyes was a silent vow—a fragile promise that this was not an ending, but a beginning.

--

The courtyard was a cavern of shadow and flickering light, the only sounds the crackle of torches and the low, guttural growl of Vhagar circling high above. The dragon’s massive wings stirred the night air, a reminder of the power waiting to be unleashed.

Three men knelt in the center, bound in heavy chains. Their faces were bloodied and bruised, bodies broken by interrogation, their spirits crushed beneath the weight of their crimes. They had confessed. They had named a buyer.

Aemond already knew who stood behind the conspiracy. The poison threading through the halls of Rivendale ran deep.

Above, on the stone balcony, Emberyn stood wrapped in a heavy cloak. The wind tugged fiercely at its edges, but she remained still, her gaze locked on the grim scene below. Her body was weak from recent wounds, but her eyes burned with a steady fire.

Beside her, Lord Rivendale was pale and silent, the lines of worry etched deep into his face. He dared not meet Aemond’s gaze.

The prince stepped forward, his presence commanding the space with a quiet authority that needed no elevation. His voice rolled across the courtyard like thunder, low and steady but impossible to ignore.

“For treason against the crown, the blood of dragons, and the attempted murder of a prince of the realm,” Aemond declared, “the sentence is death by flame.”

He did not shout. He didn’t need to. Only murmured. "Dracarys.."

Vhagar answered. With a beat of monstrous wings, the dragon descended, the heat from her breath scorching the night air. The three men were engulfed in blue-black flames, their screams silenced in moments as they turned to ash before the eyes of all who watched.

But the fire did not stop there. Aemond turned slowly, his gaze sharp as a blade, fixed now on the balcony above.

“I know who gave the order,” he said, his voice cold and steady, “and I know why.”

Lord Rivendale’s face drained of color.

“Your House is spared,” Aemond continued, “because your daughter bled for your sins.”

He let the weight of those words hang between them like a sword suspended by a thread.

Then, with a voice that cut through the tension like ice on fire, he pronounced, “Her betrothal to the Stark boy is over.”

A murmur stirred the gathered lords, and Rickon Stark stepped forward, fury blazing in his eyes.

“You cannot—!” he shouted.

But Lord Rivendale raised a hand, silencing him with practiced authority.

Rickon’s anger flared, raw and unyielding. “You’d let him—”

“I’d let my daughter live,” Lord Rivendale snapped, voice firm and resolute. “I will not risk Aemond Targaryen’s wrath for a marriage that is already ash.”

Rickon recoiled, stunned into silence, every muscle taut with frustration and disbelief.

Aemond’s voice came again, cold and absolute. “I’ve informed you of my intentions,” he said directly to her father, “I do not require your permission.”

His eyes flicked upward—to Emberyn.

She said nothing. She didn’t have to. Her single, resolute nod spoke volumes.

Behind her eyes, the fire roared—unbroken, unyielding.

[mimaveil]

Haze (IX)

Governing concept: Chatty mpreg political thriller, feat. an arranged marriage between two anointed sociopaths and the grownup hangups of their caretakers.

Summary: A drop-down interrogation.

prev: the orchid and the wasp, worm moon, haze (i), haze (ii), haze (iii), haze (iv), haze (v), haze (vi), haze (vii), haze (viii)

cw: VERY nsfw, mention of child abuse

Tell us what his dick tasted like, Ben. 

Denial’s a cheap sealant, darling. We know your strain, your tricks, your shameful annihilation choreo under the linear chandelier, air-fried luna moth, fucking a hand cramp into the grippy mat. 

Plug the sordid acoustics. Pop the jumbo blister pack of fantasies, 325mg, on pitted black tile. Tone on tone, while your perfectionist regime rehearses the geothermal reacharound: 

9. How salty was he? 

8. Did your dream boy taste like drowning in a coastal town, lousy with pine resin, wild garlic and elided shit? 

7. Along the garrote points of his neck, did he smell like papaya syruping a wet rug, strays skulking the port, a queynte not-quite native, not-quite wild?  

6. Did you kiss him with courtesy before you nosed into that rubbery bounce, fresh eraser, incense-grade cedar on an exposed barrel, the metallic lick of a blistered ferrule?

5. How ardently did you audit the grain of his cunt, gooey gsm, briny and crushable? Clit clamped, measuring a moral arc by tongue. By accounts, you like an astringent slick, salted plum pellet in the chilled carafe of your mouth,

yet when presented with the whole worshipful trencher, shivering, a balanced-lethal inheritance of Eighth genetic politicking, you cry decaf, zero-proof?

Anyone can fuck a guy, so you went for his dick first, like warming left-overs, with your shoes on. Disappointing.

Oh, do stop hiding—fingercomb your teeth—spit in the tub—get dressed—you like his sullen holiness so you wanted to rough him up a little, inflict a trashed-hotel-room party on this choice cut, render your God-ridden Crystal Prince, Keeper of the Noble-Flint-Ultra-Clear-Float, unto a pliant dirty heap basted in his own leaking premise. Knees blown, you gagged on the satsuma steam, and he yanked your ear, a fall of icy sugar, pay attention, and your dick jumped four bars—

—pinched his kewpie nipple, easy, squirting with heat

4. Did his come clot in your mouth, with that tannic bluster you like? 

3. How many Na+ pilgrims, re-baptized, swam through the gates of your appetite?

2. When he’s rocked up against you, your knuckles working his sluice, and you mumble a devotional into his scalp—salt pyramid kiss between the brows—does he understand you were courting

1. Do you wonder, in your lonely-doll cameline trousers, strolling the nave to scalloped chanting, how far the pleasure traveled in our dear Owen’s body? Smoked hole, if you made it good, like Boyd’s show-your-dinosaurs dictum, that sulfury, tropical roil that splits a gait open?

0. Or did it stay a localized pleasure, a wet tip under bubble wrap, a beard quilling babyfat thighs, cherubic bulge like dekopon-or-or-or-Or

Saints evoked, you’re going to torch your bowels, trying to hide_

_You’re going to torch your bowels if you keep juicing your panic, jewelry writhing on your fat fingers, tripping on your split-back cape and smashing hood-first into whatever rotted ancient the Eighth’s arborists dredged in at great expense for an audience of 800 squinting adherents. 

Guts blushing, touch trunk (from Sophia’s recon and Daniel’s third-party reconstruction, we’re assaying, oh, 36’ circumference, ring of cow-sized calluses, pulpy, infested core. A cav-hole, 10’, lined in lead). Pray on your daughters as Owen thumbs the hollow pyramid of flake sea salt between your brows, briny, crushable. 

Our understanding is that salt is chosen for its God-given, earth-forged properties in set quantities, tiresome. Forgive us; color us ill, delirious, misinformed. We tire of these ceremonial white spaces, just a plunder laundered by time.

So sprinkle dried blood, in your solitary hole. Swimming in dirt, you’ve relinquished yourself to the darkling beetles, the domino assassin bugs, the beefsteak fungus pelting your hood. Beset by rot, sniff camphor, chasteberry, goat’s-beard resin, hedge nettle, chestnuts roasted with Tempranillo. 

Outside, our brave popelet shall demonstrate his templar mastery by reviving the rotting hulk, and the tree too, forgive the risible bloom of this joke—how tepid is eternity, without sleep! Without play.  

Oh, but we long to meet you in that pillowy arena of mutual worship-interrogation. Smoking out windows, waiting for our co-creation to thicken into something indefensible. We envy your dreams, the spat-on-shell, your dream boy salting your cock at a clinically impossible angle (that’s why they call it a comforter; the deniability bakes the pleasure in, grinds your eyebrows into the bolster). Cast our way, and we’ll cater you a buffet of boys, in and out of pup.  

Shame about the tiara we sent. Your daughters would have loved you for it. 

Watch the vomit. Poor, feral pet! The days treacle your molars; you didn’t have the strength to end it. 

0. How did you escape the House, Ben? 

00. How badly did the light damage you?

000. What is that warm pool inside you?

0000. You thought that was light? 

[anarchic-miscellany]

Reading "One Piece" for the first time: Part 15

It's been a while so I was worried that my dodgy bootleg site keeping this thing going was going to be offline, but here we are.

I hope that the art gets better soon, it's a very... distinct style.

Anyway!

Our Idiot and Giga Chad are doing... something? The king/villain of this arc is kind of weak and kind of lame, but I enjoy the snow and the magical fun times Winter Wonderland Castle! The little old lady crone doctor (Deny. Defend. Depose) is revealing some depths, I guess? And the reindeer seems to be the next big character of this arc/crew: honestly guys, not too sold. I mean, I didn't see it coming, in the same way that I wouldn't have seen a sentient cube made of bees coming, but from what I gather this guy's a main character. So... first thoughts aren't great? I mean, he's more likable than the Idiot (massive fucking overpowered dullard with the IQ of a bucket that he is), but I was unmoved by his sad backstory about a doctor on a mountain? I don't know, I'm just a cynical bastard like that and the hype has never lived up to it. That's it? The Blue Nosed Reindeer ate a human fruit (fucking Axe Cop had better writing than this) and wants to cure disease, but then his mentor the crone sold him to (Deny. Defend. Depose) ate a mushroom and exploded? And now the Idiot heard that story and defends his flag because nobody forms immediate life or death attachments to inanimate objects and strangers he just met QUITE like Doofus Q. Dullard.

But then the villain turned into a fucking gingerbread house, and that was fucking amazing? Every time I think I build a tolerance to this author's bullshit, he pulls more out of the bag.

Whilst the crowd are gathering their torches and sharpening their forks (I gather that Blue Nose Reindeer is a popular character in the fandom. I prefer Chopper Reed or Barry the Chopper thus far, but we shall see) I will say I liked Cartographer With a Brain Cell being nice as she recovered in the castle, and appreciated very much that our companion of the week was Giga Chad: that guy is excellent, and I am happy to finally have them bench the Himbo and his Seventeen Fucking Swords, or whatever. I am forever grateful, also, that we don't cut back to the ship much, because we would probably see him arranging them in a circle for a tea party or something. Sad we didn't get more of Meme in Progress, but I liked his efforts to carry a dude (even if they were immediately shot down by The Himbo... Cut this guy a break, Shonen Edgelord Himbo Shitbag) and that the whole thing ended on a Christmas joke.

Mixed thoughts on the series so far: meh on the Blue Nosed Reindeer (I'll come up with a better nickname for him in time) and that whole shebang, but I liked the Christmas island, if not the mixed messages and perfunctory "guess we have to fight a house now" fight, but appreciate that it's par for the course in Shonen stuff, even if I was just counting the pages until The Idiot let off yet more super attacks. Seven Phases of Reindeer, however, sounds like a great L'Arc-en-Ciel album title, as well as something they should tell the Giga Chad about more: can you imagine the succulent, delicious phases of reindeer meat he could cook from 7 phases?!

Appreciate the shadowy "Baroque" villain head revealing the existance of 7 "Pirate Lords". Nice to have some actual villains hinted at, and talked about for the future, even if I am going to be underwhelmed if these are the fights on display and nothing will stop this bimbling fuckhead of a protagonist, who is starting to grate upon me. I hope that Giga Chad gets to eat a crocodile though, that would be amazing. As for who the next in the crew could be? I'm still holding out hope for a Merman or a Vampire. Also, can we have some women in the crew? It's a bit of a sausage fest. Honestly I was more interested in the grouchy old crone lady (Deny. Defend. Depose) and hoping she would join. But it's early days for Blue Nosed Reindeer, he could grow on me.

(Side note: I just spilt a cup of tea all over my desk, so maybe the universe is already damning me for not gnoshing on the Reindeer's Cock upon meeting him and his backstory)

[andreal831]

I feel guilty: In some ways, I feel Hayley and the Mikaelsons set up Hope to fail. Now, with canon included, I think Hope did find her way - but ironically feel like her story should have been "Klaus, Hayley, and Elijah are what the remaining family tied to Hope but with the three dead - Hope is on her own, and having to navigate a world where she loves her dad but everyone is just as entitled to hate him and come into conflict with that". (Sorry, that's a long one). Basically because of how morally dubious the TVD gang (+ Dorian) could be - it makes sense that they know to separate Klaus's actions from Hope - but what about those who did not have that luxury and only remember a monster that was Klaus? I would use Tyler's story, but in a vague gesture: Hope needs to earn someone's trust after her father (or other relatives) brutalized them and has no way to defend or justify it. Essentially getting someone's trust for her as "Only Hope" and not the surname she's connected to. Or the more common arc, Hope realizing just because she loves her family doesn't mean she can overwrite the centuries of cruel history they left behind.

I'm not saying the Mikaelsons didn't love Hope, but Hope is unique (not just as a tribrid but the only living blood relative who hasn't been alive for a millennia) and had pressure on her that shouldn't be there. Hayley loved her, but should have warned her that living in a town that still had - living - people her dad fought with and hurt should have taken precedence over keeping a torch lit for their relationship. Klaus had his chance to be someone in this world, now Hope has to live in it and make something of herself - in his name or by herself.

(Sorry if this comes off anti. While I have anti thoughts and do like Hope, I think she could have stood to have a better characterized arc.)

I'll start by prefacing this and say that I haven't seen much of Legacies, I only know a lot of the show from edits.

But I agree that the show did a pretty terrible job with really diving into the cycle of trauma and pressures that were put on Hope since before she was even born. They were so focused on making Klaus redeemable and centering Hope around Klaus that they didn't allow for her character to have the development she needed.

I really like what I know about Hope's character and I even look past the wild hoops the writers had to jump through to make her existence possible. But for a show that centered around a magical, miracle baby, they sidelined her character a lot. The writers were so focused on setting up Legacies that they forgot to give the characters the development that was necessary for it to get there.

People love to say that Klaus broke the cycle of abuse with Hope, but he didn't. It just manifested in a different way. He never physically harmed her, but he neglected, abandoned, and emotionally harmed her repeatedly. This trauma is something that Hope doesn't even get to work through.

Hope at 7 years old seems more or less well adjusted. I think Hayley did a good job protecting her from everything. She missed her family in an abstract way because she didn't truly understand what she was missing. She had Hayley and Mary. Klaus allowing himself to be captured and held prisoner was the best thing he ever did for Hope. She was able to live for seven years safe and loved. I may get hate for it, but Hope was better off living as a Marshall away from the Mikaelsons.

I don't necessarily think Hayley was wrong for letting Hope grow up believing the best in her family. At that point, Hope was very isolated. She deserved to have a childhood without it being taken away by the Mikaelsons. But I do think Hayley should have had more conversations with her as she got older, especially if she was going to a school where it was likely to come up.

As soon as she is back with the Mikaelsons, her life once again revolved around what she can do for Klaus. I'm not saying they all didn't love Hope, but she was never allowed to just exist. The fact that she used to keep points when she was "good" or "bad" shows just how much she felt it. She had to be perfect because if she wasn't, she wouldn't be worth their sacrifice or Klaus might slip back into a terrible person.

I've talked about it before, but sending Hope to the Salvatore School made no sense to me. She was safer in New Orleans. She had her mother's pack, he vampires would protect her for Josh and Marcel, Vincent wouldn't let anything happen to her, and she had her mother. Hayley sending her daughter away to boarding school for most of the year made zero sense. I watched the first few episodes of Legacies before TO and I genuinely thought they all died when she was a child because of how she acted with Alaric and the twins. She desperately wanted a family, something Hayley had done a great job providing in the past, but sending her away to school made Hope feel neglected. She was already being neglected by Klaus, she didn't need to feel abandoned by both parents.

And, as you said, she is sent to a school that is run by a man who hates her father, in a town full of people who hate her whole family. She had to listen to people talking about how awful they were, and it was all warranted, which makes it worse for her. She didn't get to attempt to process that on her own. She had to do it while constantly being compared to her family. Alaric was always using it as a way to punish her. The adults clearly were not mature enough to separate Hope from what her family did and they had no business being in charge of her.

The entire terrible legacy of the Mikaelsons was put on Hope's shoulder and the show just ignored that trauma because if they didn't, they would have to admit that Klaus wasn't redeemed, everyone just moved on. So then the people who didn't just move on look like the bad guys. Alaric had every right to hate Klaus, Tyler would have every right to hate both of Hayley and Klaus. They don't owe the Mikaelsons anything, but it is also not fair that Hope has to take the brunt of their anger because Klaus died and got away with literal murder. Hope was a child and shouldn't have had to work to prove herself. She deserved love and support and understanding, like every other child. She deserved to have the space and support to sort out her feelings toward her family, the good and the bad. She deserved to yell at Klaus for abandoning her, to be angry at Elijah for putting that pressure on her, to be angry at her aunts and uncles for abandoning her after her parents died. She deserved to figure out who she was outside of the legacy of pain and torment her family left behind, but as far as I can tell, she is never given that time. All of this would have given her character more depth. Coming to the realization that her family were terrible people but she still loved them is a hard pill to swallow, but it was something she needed to come to terms with. Glorifying Klaus and erasing Hayley, did very little for her development except to play on Klaus' popularity for views.

I love the Mikaelsons but each and every one of them were terrible at being family and terrible people. Hope suffered because of this.

Thanks for the ask! Sorry if I just went on a tangent and didn't fully answer your question.

[spindle-girl]

Torch (cont) 7.y

power goes out at the portal intake, assholes from another earth shoot at refugees, Dragon and Defiant stop the fighting, and a frustrating mess of parahuman-involved politics

The attacks had hit the portals, and some of the most accessible avenues between Earth B and Earth G had been wiped out.

did none of the city block-wide portals stay tuned to Bet?

Had they come to him, or even if they’d gone to Ari, they’d have been told to stay clear of lot nineteen until things settled down. Gary could have told them where they would be useful.

oh boy, the Shepherds and the anti-parahumans. two groups i don't care about. yay

It was the numbers that slipped through his fingers, and drove home how out of reach it all was. Six hundred bodies out of twenty million.

Wildbow is braver than me for putting so much emphasis on the numbers. if i was the author i'd be pressing the 'just trust me' button as hard as i could when it comes to math lol

“We’ve got to give them ID, make sure we aren’t letting dangerous people in.  We give them a bit of money to start off, because they almost always have immediate needs.  If we do like you’re saying, they’ll be second class citizens.”

what do they do with the dangerous people, leave them??? on the apocalyptic earth?

He didn’t want to do this, but he couldn’t ask it of anyone else- he knew he could land his shots, if he could see his target.  It would be hard to see.

please don't tell me i'm about to see a parahuman go down because every Guy With A Gun is suddenly 100% accurate because they can see their target. i'm alright with the first parahuman getting hit because it was a surprise shot from a sniper with a very clear target, that's like ideal- plus if it's Teacher they got aimbot. Gary's guys have old ass rifles and aren't trained for this shit. they should miss

note from later: this didn't happen technically

“It was an act of war,” Defiant said.  “More brazen than the other recent attacks.  They’ve been testing the waters, going after areas they see as vulnerable.” There was a pause. “I’m so sorry for your losses,” Defiant said.

But different, now.  People avoided the Shepherds.  They cleaved closer to him.  People had felt lost, confused, scared, and his explanation had been an easy one to accept.  It made sense, for one thing, and it spoke to justifiable fears that every single person harbored even before the first and best of the parahumans had wiped out landmasses and extinguished a good portion of the population.

so funny that i've seen people argue against Armsmaster being bad at interacting with people when he still needs Dragon's help to address this stuff like in his interlude four years ago in-story. dude had one (1) semi-positive interaction with an isolated and depressed teenager and they think the meetings with Taylor after that were all her unreliable narration making his people-skills look bad

the Wardens really have a bad PR problem. you'd think distancing your group from the guy that ended the world would be an important box to check off

“For disaster to strike.  What if I told you that Accord’s plans will work?  Through texts he wrote and Jeanne Wynn’s slavish adherence to the terms of those texts, he will turn things around with a minimum of casualties.  People will be fed as well as you could hope.  We’ll be able to defend ourselves, get set up in terms of shelter, and things will be good.”

ways Cauldron fucked up +1: letting Accord (so far the one noted exception to Scion-shards fucking everyone else over) go to an Endbringer fight. i mean, his death was really deserved, but it's not like Cauldron cares about him selling people. they're probably proud

“Then the threat is… she does too well?”

“We give it to them.  We promise leadership without parahumans in charge, stacking the deck.  We turn to an established government we’re on friendly terms with and we invite them in.  We become a vassal state.”

lmao Citrine's got the narrative's seal of approval

so the theocratic world or the world Goddess ruled that likely hates parahumans now since Aleph is sealed and Earth N is just like, one place that Lord of Loss rules. not hard to guess which he's going to pick. i'm also guessing they'll be the ones that attacked earlier so that Gary looks like a fool

Stories about people in positions on teams.  Stories about the monsters.  Stories about those who had re-engineered their identities. “You’ve been keeping this up to date,” Gary observed. The most recent was from four days prior.  A family, it looked like.  Julien and Irene Martin.

ah yes, let's target the child

End notes:

pro tips for writing about fantasy racism:

a) don't do it if you're white

b) don't do it when you also give the racists legitimate points like parahumans forgetting the regular peoples' names (love you Ashley but come on), the superpowers being Evil that don't let the parahumans use them for good stuff like building shelters besides notable exceptions that are few and far between, and the government pretty much being run by parahumans who are keeping everyone in the dark

c) don't do it by having the racists narrate hate against what i'm pretty sure are a group of parahumans that are heavily christian and are, i'm 99% sure, the ones to hire ex-nazis later on

d) just don't do it. seriously, has it ever worked well?

Gary does clearly suck, that wasn't really in question. it's just that parahumans also kind of suck too just in different ways

i guess it was cool to see Dragon and Defiant again. i think they've been busy building the internet and Dracheheim. are we paying them a visit in arc 8?

[solitaire-06]

Every good Star Wars story needs droid characters, and Errant Jedi Knights is no exception. So say hello to the Padawan Pack’s faithful artificial companion, U8R-7!

(Artwork creator unknown to me as of uploading, based on old concept art for BB-8)

The Minuscule Aide

Model: U8R vector-class technical droid

Manufacturer: Ferropol Field Systems

Height: 0.8 metres

Gendered Programming: Non-binary

Pronouns: They/them

Created: Around 20 ABY

Optic Sensor Colour: Turquoise

Plating Colour: White and gold

Sensors:

Photoreceptor

Infrared sensor

Motion detector

Holoprojector/recorder

Audio receptor/sonar sensor

Radar sensor

Air density sensor/weather monitor

Olfactory sensor/chemical sensor

Substance analyser/enzymer

Energy scanner

Geoscanner

Tools and Equipment:

Manipulator arm (3)

Data probe

Standard I/O socket

Laser drill

Spotlight

Heuristic processor

Integrated commlink

Reader socket

Spark projector

Scomp link

Arc welder

Welding torch

Affiliations:

Chiss Ascendancy

Hlas family

New Jedi Order

Galactic Alliance

Notes: U8R-7 has been my closest companion for over half my life, ever since I found and repaired them when I was seven. They’ve always been there for me, and the intelligence and insight they’ve displayed towards me and my peers indicates a profoundly greater degree of sentience than most in the galaxy would initially (or want to) believe. Now they’re coming with me to Ossus, where my fate will be decided by the Jedi Council… If I’m sent away from the Order and forced to go back to Csilla, I have a feeling I’m going to need their support more than ever. - Hlas’or’enalos, 40 ABY.

“They say that the greatest friends one can have are those who stay by your side and yet simultaneously stand up to you when necessary. If that’s the case… then Soren - and the rest of the Pack - are truly lucky to have a friend as courageous and devoted as Yu-Eight-Ar-Seven serving beside them.”

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - lots, just LOTS

I thought I would be pretty lean reporting for Oct 2023 but then (for reasons relayed here) the weeklies got saved by a drunk avenging hacker in a hotel room.

Oct 2023 Wk 1

Except I still can't watch IFYLITA, because I use my other computer for it.

Gotta say though, watching tese mostly all in one day (for travel reasons) is beyond even my BL superpowers. I did my best tho.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Dangerous Romance (Fri YT) ep 8 of 12 - Sailom, sweetie, Kang is never sleeping alone again. It wasn't really translated, but Kang's way of speaking in that opening stinger was VERY cutsie. Also the gay sheets have made another appearance. I do have to say that "rich kid problems" is not my favorite story arc, but I still think this is a great Thai BL.

Naughty Babe (Sat YT) ep 6 of 8 - I love that they are finally talking to each other but Yi’s whole personality is shifting. Honestly, this pair is great at kissing and casual touches, but the friendships are the best thing about this franchise. Also Mr Chenne remains my fav character. But where did Diao's baby superhero team come from? And why? This show is very confusing... It’s also not very good.

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) You Are My Soulmate ep 7 - This was the one of the series I was looking forward to the most, because silly, pretty, and v BL. It is, in fact all those things and nothing more. So I'm enjoying it, of course.

Absolute Zero (Thai Weds iQIYI) ep 2 of 12 - I like it, but it feels like it's gonna be so sad. I'm having Promise and Dew the movie flashbacks. Plus 12 eps seems too long for this narrative thread. I am worried.

Venus in the Sky (Tues iQIYI) 6 of 10 eps - This show is so slow it's hardly worth the bandwidth, but we attained "baby is a floppy drunk" and thus a finger bite frustration scene, which was nice.

Only Friends (Sat YT) ep 9 of 10 (not a BL but I'm watching it anyway) - Ray is so mean to Sand. The not-a-thing with Sand & Nick was cute. I’ve had several experiences like that. All my queer friendship groups tend to be incestuous, but sometimes they're just too much of a sibling and trying to sleep with them is the most unsexy thing in the universe. To be fair, I’ve also been in Ton’s position (this ep). Jojo sure makes queer shizz. But also, Ton must have a magic rod with everyone wanting a repeat. (I'm so glad they put Neo in this role, no one else at GMMTV could play him as complex or sympathetic.)

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

You Are Mine (Taiwan Fri Viki) eps 5 of 10 - now officially known by me as "I'm too sunshine for this seme" where our boss is being hella obvious but our cinnamon roll is just too ooey-gooey to notice. Al.though, baby boy, he takes you home, sleeps on top of you, feeds you cookies (IN HIS BED) and keeps you in his space? Surely even this sunshine is catching a few rays of truth?

Gaga's *unintelligible gay murmuring* is my favorite caption EVER.

Also the name of my new ASMR YT channel.

Bon Appetit (Korea Weds iQIYI) 3-4 of 8 - ah gay panic, also what is Korea's obsession with 7 year separations? Is it only true love if you wait 7 years? Dohoon is SUCH a flirt, it's kinda great! Also, since it's Korea, we got us a bit of a love triangle with 2 hyung romances, so I (of course) am torn. Either way Dohoon is going down. I do love how much time we are spending with the food in this drama, finally one that lives up to its name. On an entirely different note, Korean camping is the most bizare thing to me. It's SO damn civilized. There will be NO DIRT. They pack blow torches. And full dinner sets. Every time I see it in a drama, I'm amused.

My Personal Weatherman AKA Taikan Yoho (Japan Sat Gaga) ep 7 of 8 - OMG these 2 are so in love with each other, and so ridiculous about it. They're tiny idiots but I love them.

If It’s With You AKA Even If I Fall In Love With You AKA Kimi to nara Koi wo Shite Mite mo’ (Japan Gaga) ep 1 of 5 - from MBS a live action adaptation of Kubota Maru’s manga ‘君となら恋をしてみても. Amane has stopped loving people due to trauma until he meets Ryuji. At first Amane just wants to play with Ryuji but… feelings.

I like the odd Japanese mature-childishness in this one. Plus a broken sunshine who is out in a kind of aggresive way and an instinctive caring seme. What's not to love? Well, it's Japan I'm sure it will surprise me one way or another.

Mr Cinderella 2 (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 3 of ? - the cray cray step brother quazi incest is a bit much for me. Why does VBL just suddenly get so unhinged like this?

Kiseki: Dear to Me (Taiwan Tues Viki & iQIYI) ep 9 of 13(?) - resumes next week

It's Airing But...

I Feel You Linger in the Air (Fri grey) ep 8 of 12 - I will try to watch 8-12 and do a series review when I get back in November but... not sure I will be able to. Fingers crossed.

Love in Translation (Sat iQIYI) ep 8fin - I will complete and drop a review in Nov.

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - 4th installment in this series (1st series, 1 special, 1 movie prior) about a lawyer who lives with his boyfriend, a hairdresser, and cooks for him. I find thie series more fun to binge, som I'm waiting until it completes its run.

I Cannot Reach You AKA I Can't Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai (Japan Tues Netflix-Japan & ????) - in classic JBL fashion, I Cannot Reach You could not be reached. 

Can I Buy Your Love From A Vending Machine? AKA Sono Koi, Jihanki de Kaemasu ka? (Japan cinema release in-country only) - This one is a movie from Japan so in customary fashion who tf knows when (or if) it will get international distribution. Salaryman Ayumu Koiwai just can't tear his eyes away from the strong, muscular man as he checks on the stocks of the vending machine in his office.

In case you missed it?

Crazy Handsome Rich (Sun Gaga) Apparently ended its run I DNFed this at ep 3. So no review from me.

My Beautiful Man: Eternal AKA Utsukushii Kare Eternal (Japan movie Viki & Gaga) - Play it again Sam, only I'm kinda tired of this song. I was v dramatic tho. And it's always nice to be reminded JBL can kiss when it puts its mind to it. 8/10

Next Week Looks Like This

Upcoming October BL

10/31 SHADOW (Thai VIU ????) - this is a horror BL featuring ghosts and other paranormal elements in a high school setting. I'm not wild about Thai horror (or horror at all, but if it must be done in BL let Japan do it). It features Singto (who did paranormal BL He's Coming to Me) opposite Fluke N (who's done a couple horror's before). Also Fiat. Dan suffers from sleep paralysis, and in his dreams he sees a shadow that suffocates him. It gets worse when he transfers schools.

10/? Bump Up Project AKA Bump Up Business (Korea ????) - BL staring OnlyOneOf that released(??) as a movie in July but is now being recut and reissued as a series. Stars NineMill and from Idol Romance bulled as a love story between a trainee who is about to debut and a celebrity from the same agency (based on a webtoon). OnlyOneOf have been auditioning for this since Libido IMHO. You can watch me chronicle their BL MV work in this post. Idol Romance will do sad but can do good kisses (Wish You, Nobleman Ryu, Once Again, Kissable Lips, Poongduck 304, Tasty Florida, Tinted With You) but I don't think we will get any in this. After that OmegaX Shoulder bullshizz buisness I am very wary of this show.

2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED).

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

I've seen this Chinese drama like... no wait... okay it's like EVERY Chinese drama ever.

(both Mr Cinderella 2)

I only got to watch this scene and the bath, but bot were pretty darn good! I Feel You Linger in the Air

There's only one bed but they slept together on the floor anyway. One of BL's oddest tropes.

I do love a finger bite. (both Venus in the Sky)

Good advice

(Naughty Babe)

(Last week) 

[ftld42]

AO3 Wrapped 2024 (Author Edition)

Tagged by @krankittoeleven who seems to have gone as insane as I did in 2024 😂 Thanks for all the amazing fic this year <33 I had such a good time reading your work.

Apparently I posted 18 fics this year?? Total of 165,330 words which is just crazy, I think it’s the most I’ve posted in a single year, ever. Most of it was in the first half of the year, too, no wonder I got so burnt out 😂

In chronological order, here’s what I posted in 2024! Infinite Broccoli: A Fushiguro Household Mystery – JJK Rated G – Gojo & Megumi & Tsumiki – Fluff, Domestic

Can’t Be For Good – JJK Rated T – satosugu – Angst, Premature Death Arc, Fix-It (if you want it to be)

Little Whiles – JJK Rated M – nanago – No Curses/Powers, Time Loop, Character Study

Anchors – JJK Rated T – Megumi & co. – No Curses/Powers, Angst, H/C

Getting to Yes: The Pineapple Method – JJK Rated G – nanago – Established Relationship, Fluff & Humor

Dating, Denial, and Other Dicktrocities – JJK Rated T – nanago – FWB, STFU Kisses, Banter

Miso Soup – JJK Rated G – nanago – Getting Together , Sickfic, Domestic

View From the Top – Haikyuu! Rated G – Suna & Hyakuzawa – Post-Timeskip, Olympics, Fluff

Gate, Open – JJK Rated T – nanago – Time Travel/Loop, Shibuya Fix-It, Character Study

Reasons Why – JJK Rated T – nanago – Confessions, Getting Together, Pineapples (yes, again)

PR Disasters and You: Komori Motoya’s Guide to Coping with the Receipts – Haikyuu! Rated G – Komori & EJP – Post-Timeskip, Humor, Shenanigans

In Defense Of – JJK Rated T – Higuruma – Canon Divergence, Fluff, Gojo being very Gojo all the time

Hush – JJK Rated E – higugojo – Canon Compliant, Post-Shibuya, Something kinky about power idk

Just Like You: How to Carry a Torch – JJK Rated T – nanago, itafushi – Fluff, Humor, Domestic

Speak – JJK Rated T – kusahigu – Post-Canon, Angst, Grief

Not Ordinary – JJK Rated T – getonana – Bakery AU, Getting Together, Found Family

Where the Light Comes Through - JJK Rated T - nanago - Soulmates AU, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers

Asterisms - JJK Rated T - kirakari - Canon Compliant, Mutual Pining, Mission Fic

#

Stats

User Subs: 504 Kudos: 3419 Comment Threads: 319 Bookmarks: 1075 Word Count: 165,330 Hits: 29,348

Top 3 fics (2024) by kudos:

Infinite Broccoli: A Fushiguro Household Mystery (501)

Miso Soup (458)

Dating, Denial, and Other Dicktrocities (370)

Top 3 fics (2024) by word count:

Little Whiles (44,318)

Gate, Open (33,208)

Where the Light Comes Through (17,750)

Top 3 ships (2024)

Nanago (7)

Gojo & Megumi (3)

Itafushi (2)

Top 5 tags (2024)

Fluff (8)

Humor (7)

Parental Gojo Satoru (4)

Angst, Slice of Life, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, AU – No Curses (3)

##

Thank you so much to everyone who’s read, commented, left kudos, screamed in public, etc about my fic—I appreciate you so much <33

I am terrible at the tagging people thing and all my usuals are in on this already, so just consider yourself tagged, ok? 😭

[what-about-zaladane]

The Heroine's Journey Tarot Spread

(Here's a different, more structured variant on this spread.)

Based on Mary K. Greer's archetypal (reversed) Heroine's Journey in The Complete Book of Tarot Reversals, and Barbara Moore's modular spread principles in Tarot Spreads. A mythic self-exploration.

Why doesn't this follow the format of the Hero's Journey? Because Greer’s heroine’s path isn’t linear: it’s spiral, archetypal, mythic, and lunar.

Reversing the arc scrambles it intentionally to reflect inner fragmentation, psychic realignment, and shadow-walking.

9 cards, 3 phases.

Phase 1: The Descent (The Shattering)

You are not broken. You are being disassembled on purpose.

Position 1: The Mask

Moore Function: The Situation

Greer Theme: The Fool, reversed

Card Meaning: What you once believed yourself to be; the identity you wore into the world

Position 2: The Gatekeeper

Moore Function: The Challenge

Greer Theme: The Magician, reversed

Card Meaning: What keeps you from reclaiming power. A false story, a fear of misusing it.

Position 3: The Lost Thing

Moore Function: The Heart

Greer Theme: The Empress, reversed

Card Meaning: What was denied to you, or what you were asked to surrender. Your inheritance, your softness.

Phase 2: The Limen (The Holding)

You are in the in-between. Not what you were. Not yet what you will be.

Position 4: The Witness

Moore Function: Inner Voice

Greer Theme: The Hermit, reversed

Card Meaning: What sees you, even now. What persists through silence.

Position 5: The Bone Thread

Moore Function: Advice

Greer Theme: Death, reversed

Card Meaning: The thread you must follow, even if it costs you comfort. The truth beneath endings.

Position 6: The Mirror

Moore Function: Reflection

Greer Theme: The Star, reversed

Card Meaning: The hope you are afraid to claim. Your future self whispering back.

Phase 3: Emergence (The Return)

You return, but not unchanged. You come back upright, with fire in you.

Position 7: The New Name

Moore Function: The Result

Greer Theme: Judgment, reversed

Card Meaning: Who you are now, if you accept it. What the old world might call you.

Position 8: The Torch

Moore Function: Tool/Integration

Greer Theme: The High Priestess, reversed

Card Meaning: What wisdom you carry forward in silence. A gift from your own descent.

Position 9: The Step Forward

Moore Function: Next Action

Greer Theme: Upright (Querent’s choice)

Card Meaning: One thing you can do to honor this journey. The Upright card is the only one in the spread.

Optional Variant

Pull all cards reversed, except the final card (The Step Forward), which is upright.

This is because the journey is through the reversal...But the act of choosing to continue is always an upright step. We journey throughout the reversal and step into the upright -- the Hero's Journey.

[officerwhitmore]

The Best Time to Wear a Blue Sweater is All the Time

The morning felt surreal, charged with a strange electricity that had Vince gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary. The soft light filtered through the half-frozen windshield, creating a golden haze that contrasted sharply with the sharp crunch of slushy snow beneath the tires. June was perched in the passenger seat, her purple monster backpack—complete with googly eyes that bounced like manic marbles—resting on her lap. Pins clinked against each other with every turn, creating a kind of metallic soundtrack to her non-stop chatter. She was a mosaic of her own personality, vibrant and unapologetic: the backpack, the oversized hoodie, the pins that showcased everything from Mario characters to a shimmering enamel dragon, green-scaled and new. Definitely Wizards of Starlight Hollow.

“They’re keeping all the choices, Daddy!” June’s voice was breathless, tumbling over itself with excitement. “Like, not just the dragon color but also stuff like whether you save the villagers or join the rebellion. And the endings depend on the alliances you make too, not just the dragon! So, like, if you pick the blue dragon and help the mages, you get this whole ‘reviving the ruins’ arc, but if you join the bandits, it’s all about smuggling artifacts and surviving in the wastelands. And—oh! Oh! It’s coming out right before my birthday in January. Isn’t that perfect timing?”

“It is perfect, monkey,” Vince murmured, though his tone lacked the enthusiasm June clearly wanted. Her words flowed in an endless stream, and while he was trying—God, was he trying—to keep up, his mind felt like it was moving at half-speed, bogged down by something he couldn’t quite name. Maybe it was the anxiety buzzing low in his gut, its presence as unshakable as the early-morning frost clinging to the car’s edges. He glanced at her briefly. She had the book in her lap, her small hands gripping its massive spine like it was a holy text. The silver title caught the sunlight: Wizards of Starlight Hollow. Vince had to admit, it looked good. Not just good—great.

He’d read parts of it when June had first begged him to, flipping through the thick tome late at night when he couldn’t sleep. It was the kind of book that shouldn’t have worked—it was too much, too ambitious, the kind of story that probably should’ve been a text-based adventure game first. But there was something magical about flipping from page 45” back to page 10 just to see how a decision played out. Something tactile. Retro. It felt like a quiet rebellion against the era of constant scrolling and endless screens.

And it wasn’t just a ‘good kids’ book.’ It was smart. It had layers. It didn’t talk down to its readers, and Vince appreciated that. He liked the moral complexity of it, the fact that even the ‘good’ endings weren’t completely tidy, that choices carried weight. It reminded him of the books he’d loved growing up. Books like Harry Potter. Or, more accurately, what Harry Potter had meant to him before J.K. Rowling had torched her legacy by being—what was the word? Baboon came to mind. No, scratch that. Baboon was too kind. Baboon implied something harmless, bumbling, maybe even a little sad. Rowling was… worse. A raging, sanctimonious black hole of bigotry? That felt closer. He sighed, shoving the thought away. He didn’t have the emotional bandwidth for her brand of nonsense at—he checked the dashboard clock—7:15 in the morning.

“Daddy…” June’s voice broke through his thoughts, not whiny but insistent, laced with that sharp curiosity she always carried. “What kind of dragon would you pick?”

“Huh? Oh, right. Uh…” Vince racked his brain, vaguely recalling the options. “Blue.”

“Blue?” June tilted her head, the disappointment in her voice immediate and obvious. “But that’s so boring! The blue dragon’s all about rebuilding the old ruins and working with the scholars. You wouldn’t even get to fight anyone! You only picked that because it’s your favorite color.”

“And?” Vince shot her a smug look, his confidence unshaken. “You think I’m ashamed of that? Blue is the best color, objectively, and it’s a blue dragon. Come on, it’s perfect.”

June groaned dramatically, flopping back against the seat. “You’d be so boring at this game, Daddy. You’d miss all the cool stuff—no treasure hunts, no dragon battles. Just fixing broken stuff and reading books all day. You’d just be... boring and nice.”

“Boring?” Vince gasped in mock outrage, pressing a hand to his chest like she’d just insulted his grandmother. “It’s called making the world a better place, Junie. Not everyone needs to go around setting things on fire, you little anarchist.”

June’s giggle burst out, bright and infectious, the kind of sound that could chase away clouds if Vince believed in that sort of thing. Her braces caught the light as she grinned up at him. “I just think dragon battles sound way cooler than ruin-restoring.”

“Spoken like someone who’s never had to rebuild a broken coffee maker,” Vince retorted, glancing at her with mock seriousness. “Trust me, fixing stuff takes real skill. And besides, I’d probably end up finding the coolest treasure while everyone else is too busy fighting over shiny rocks.”

June raised a brow, her expression sharpening with what she clearly thought was the ultimate gotcha. “Except there are no treasure hunts in the blue dragon storyline, Daddy.” She sat back, folding her arms like a pint-sized lawyer delivering a closing argument.

Pursing his lips, Vince rolled his eyes in an exaggerated show of defeat. “Whatever.”

June shook her head slowly, like an elderly sage disappointed by the folly of youth. “Very mature,” she muttered, tsking under her breath for added effect.

Vince barked out a laugh, throwing her a mock glare. “Stop learning new words just to weaponize them against me.”

“Never!” June shot back, her voice devilish, her grin impossibly bright. For a moment, the weight on Vince’s chest lightened, the tension loosening as her laughter filled the car. He reached for the heater dial, adjusting it until the warm air brushed his face, chasing away the last bite of cold.

June dove right back into her rambling, her excitement spilling out in a rapid-fire cadence Vince could only half follow. He nodded along, smiling faintly, but his mind drifted, slipping into that dangerous, familiar territory.

Tony. 

The name came unbidden, unshakable, wrapping itself around his thoughts like smoke. Of course he was thinking about him—he was meeting him right after this. At Chapter Brew & Bookshop, no less. Vince wasn’t naïve. Tony probably had no intention of actually reading Wizards of Starlight Hollow, despite the show he’d made of jotting down the title at Fright Fest. But he’d surprised Vince that day. The genuine curiosity Tony had shown in June’s interests had been… rare. And it wasn’t just polite small talk; it felt real, intentional. Like Tony actually cared about what lit June up. More than Stella ever did. Hell, more than most adults ever did. That memory alone made something warm unfurl in Vince’s chest, something that felt dangerously close to affection.

The school came into view—Goodacre Elementary & Middle School, named after Dr. Lena Goodacre, a Coldwater native and pioneering environmental scientist. Vince smiled faintly, remembering how much June admired her, how she’d once begged him for weeks to let her dress as Goodacre for a school project (something he unfortunately couldn’t allow — Goodacre was a Black woman and that would’ve opened up a whole can of worms none of them needed to deal with). His gaze flicked to the book in June’s lap, and a thought struck him: Should he buy Tony a copy? Would Tony like it? Or would he think it was weird? Maybe it was too much, too soon. What the hell was Vince even doing, meeting him like this? This wasn’t a date.

But then he thought about earlier that morning, standing in front of the mirror. The chunky blue sweater he’d found at Second Chance had been an impulse buy, oversized and cable-knit, warm in a way that felt like a hug. He hadn’t realized it was technically women’s clothing until he looked up the brand later, but he didn’t have a fuck to give. It flattered him. The cut was unique, the way it curved slightly at the bottom, accentuating his ass in a way that made him raise a brow in the mirror. Paired with black jeans and his nicest pair of walking shoes, he looked... good. Better than he should, considering this wasn’t a date.

And then there was the perfume—Clinique My Happy Indigo Mist. Vince had bought it years ago on a whim, a guilty pleasure he’d never quite managed to justify. He still remembered the moment vividly: standing in the cosmetics aisle, overwhelmed by rows of sleek bottles, the air thick with a kaleidoscope of florals and citrus. Stella had been browsing nearby, hunting for a specific perfume she’d hinted at wanting for weeks. Vince had been dutiful, a husband on a mission, but then he’d caught the faintest whiff of it.

It was fresh, almost startlingly so—like the air after a spring rain, crisp and dewy, carrying hints of apple and grapefruit with just enough pink pepper to add a subtle kick. Beneath that brightness, there was something grounding, a softness that whispered through the edges of the scent: violet leaf and jasmine mingling with the delicate sweetness of orris root, wrapping it all in a cool, earthy undertone. And then the base—Cashmeran and cedarwood, with the barest touch of amber—warm and rich, like sunlight breaking through the storm. It wasn’t overly feminine, but it didn’t force itself to be masculine either. It existed in this perfect, undefinable in-between, fresh and light but layered enough to feel intriguing, almost intimate.

He’d bought it impulsively, tossing it into the cart alongside Stella’s selection and hiding it in the guest bathroom when they got home. He hadn’t dared use it—not because it smelled like a woman’s perfume, but because he didn’t know how to explain why he’d wanted it so badly. What kind of guy buys himself perfume? It didn’t make sense. At least, it wouldn’t have to Stella. But this morning? This morning, Vince had sprayed it on with a confidence he didn’t entirely feel, and now it lingered on his skin, subtle but unmistakable, settling into the soft knit of his sweater.

He caught himself now, clenching the steering wheel a little tighter as his mind betrayed him, conjuring up the image of Tony leaning in close. He could see it: Tony’s breath ghosting over the curve of his neck, his nose brushing lightly against Vince’s skin as he inhaled deeply, murmuring something low and indecipherable. The thought sent a shiver ripping through him, heat curling low in his belly. His grip on the wheel tightened, and he forced himself to exhale sharply.

Jesus Christ, get a grip.

“It’s not a date,” Vince muttered under his breath, the words more for himself than anyone else.

“What’s not great?” June’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts, sharp and curious. Vince startled, his heart lurching as he glanced at her, caught completely off-guard. She was staring at him with narrowed eyes, her head tilted in suspicion, the googly eyes on her monster backpack wobbling slightly as she shifted in her seat.

“Nothing, monkey,” Vince said quickly, his voice a little too tight, a little too high. He pulled into the carpool lane, focusing hard on the steady crawl of vehicles ahead of him. Anything to keep from meeting her gaze.

June didn’t let it go. She scrunched her nose, leaning closer to him as if inspecting a crime scene. “You’re dressed up,” she said, her tone edging toward accusation. “And you smell good. Are you doing something without me today?”

Vince huffed out a laugh, a mixture of amusement and mild panic. “You’re nosy, you know that?” he said, reaching over to pull her into a quick, one-armed hug as the car rolled to a stop. “Go on, monkey. Don’t keep your friends waiting.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, clearly unconvinced but willing to let it slide. She grinned at him, sliding out of the car with the ease of a kid who trusted the world completely. Her monster backpack bounced against her back as she joined a cluster of friends near the school entrance, the googly eyes on its flap bobbing with every step. The slushy snow on the ground soaked into her boots, leaving faint, imperfect footprints behind her. Snowflakes fell softly, dotting her dark curls and catching the morning light, turning her into a walking snow globe.

Vince watched her go, his chest tightening with a pang of guilt. He hated lying to her, even by omission. She deserved better than that. But how the hell was he supposed to explain this? What was this? He didn’t even know himself.

A light tap of a horn behind him jolted Vince back to reality. He startled, quickly throwing the car into drive and pulling away from the school. His mind refused to quiet as he navigated the slick roads.

Tony. The name lingered in his thoughts, heavier with every mile he drove toward Chapter Brew & Bookshop. His nerves twisted tighter, anticipation and dread winding together like a live wire sparking just under his skin.

It wasn’t a date.

But God, did it feel like one.

Vince parked his car just outside the cozy brick façade of Chapter Brew & Bookshop, the building’s vintage charm glowing in the early morning sunlight. The windows were fogged slightly from the warmth inside meeting the mid-October chill, and the rich smell of roasted coffee beans wafted through the cracks in the door as someone stepped out carrying an oversized latte. His stomach tightened—not unpleasantly but not comfortably either—a mix of nerves and excitement churning low and constant. This wasn’t a date. He had to remind himself again because the thought had become as intrusive as a pop-up ad in his brain. Not a date.

But as he stepped inside and was immediately enveloped in the shop’s sensory overload—rich coffee, the warm scent of aged paper, polished wood floors creaking softly beneath his boots—it felt like it could be. He stopped just past the threshold, overwhelmed in a way he didn’t entirely expect. The shop was everything Vince loved: rows of bookshelves crammed with stories and knowledge, the air punctuated by the faint metallic clink of an espresso machine steaming milk, and hanging just beside the counter, a row of bookmarks that shimmered in the soft lighting like jewels. Everything about this place felt cozy, warm, and yet Vince’s stomach churned like he was walking into a damn interrogation room.

Vince hesitated near the counter, glancing at the coffee menu handwritten in curling script on a blackboard. Should he grab a drink now or wait for Tony? The indecision made his palms sweat. For a guy who made decisions under literal fire, it was laughable how paralyzed he felt standing in front of a chalkboard menu.

His smartwatch buzzed lightly as he turned his wrist to glance at the time. June’s face beamed back at him from the background, just her this time, no Stella. He’d swapped it days ago, and somehow, it still hit him like a punch every time he saw it. Not because Stella was missing, but because it felt better this way. It was easier. And that was the worst part—the ease, the relief. A deep pit of guilt opened in his stomach, sour and familiar. God, he was so tired of feeling like this.

It was 7:36. Too early to justify a drink.  He shoved the thought aside as his eyes wandered, drawn instinctively toward the kids' section. It didn’t take long to spot Wizards of Starlight Hollow on display. The book stood out even among the colorful chaos of the children’s area—a leather-bound special edition that practically screamed indulgence. Vince drifted closer, his steps slow and deliberate, like the book might catch him in the act of even thinking about buying it. Its sleek black cover gleamed faintly, embossed with silver dragons twisting around the title. Vince’s hand hovered over it for a moment, the weight of the decision settling heavily in his chest. Would Tony even like this? Would he think it was weird? Too personal? Too… much? He shook his head, laughing softly at himself. Christ, this wasn’t prom. He wasn’t trying to impress Tony with a corsage.

Still, his fingers grazed the leather, and before he knew it, the book was in his hand. The silver-edged pages glittered in the warm light, and Vince ran a thumb along the smooth edge as he opened it to the first page. The text was small but crisp, the kind of print that demanded attention. And for just a moment, he thought about how Tony might react if he actually handed it over. Would he joke about it? Tease him for the expense? Or would he crack it open, intrigued, maybe even a little touched? Vince tried to picture it, stomach fluttering with butterflies that entirely didn’t belong .This wasn’t a date, and yet here he was, standing in a bookstore, clutching a goddamn book like it was a bouquet of roses.

Before he could talk himself out of it, someone bumped into him from behind, startling him out of his thoughts.

“Oh, shit—sorry!” a woman’s voice said, startling him. Vince turned, the book still in his hand, and came face-to-face with a petite woman in her late twenties. Her fiery red hair was pulled into two fishtail braids that framed her sharp features, and her black apron was slung over one shoulder, the faint aroma of coffee clinging to her like a second skin. Recognition flickered in her eyes, followed quickly by something more flirtatious.

“You’re gonna make me late standing there like that,” she said, a crooked smirk tugging at her lips.

It took Vince a second, but he remembered her—the dominatrix from Fright Fest. Well, she’d been dressed as one, anyway. Without the leather corset, thigh-high boots, and whip, she looked much less intimidating, though the flash of her gaze still carried a teasing edge.

“Sorry,” Vince muttered, stepping back slightly. He opened his mouth to say more, to let her down easy or something, but she was already gone, slipping behind the counter and disappearing into the back. Vince shook his head, bemused. How someone on a barista’s salary could afford all that gear was beyond him. That whip alone had to cost a fortune.

Humming softly to the Sara Bareilles song playing overhead—one Stella used to play on repeat back when things were still good—Vince turned back to the display. His chest tightened as he looked down at the book again, turning it over in his hands. He loved the feel of it, the weight, the richness of the leather. The only thing better, he thought absently, would be running his hands over Tony’s suede jacket, the one he’d be wearing today. Vince imagined the texture, imagined leaning in and pressing his face against it, inhaling the scent of Tony’s soap mixed with the earthy warmth of leather.

Jesus Christ, get a grip, he thought, clutching the book tighter.

Still holding the book, Vince drifted toward the bookmark display he’d noticed earlier. The bookmarks hung in a neat row, shimmering in the light like miniature works of art. One depicted a lush forest scene with tiny silver leaves etched into the edges. Another showed a starry night sky, the paint so vivid it almost looked real. But the one that caught Vince’s attention made him laugh under his breath—a glossy, hyper-realistic painting of a bright yellow egg sizzling on a cast-iron skillet. The edges were trimmed in gold and silver, and the black velvet ribbon attached to it gave it a touch of elegance that somehow felt absurd next to the playful design. It was perfect.

He plucked it off the display, holding it by the ribbon for a moment before swinging it into his palm with practiced dexterity—a skill he’d honed dueling lightsabers with June in their living room. The bookmark was sturdy, thick cardboard that seemed practically indestructible. Vince looked up at the price on the display and felt a small swell of satisfaction. Ten bucks. Pricey for a bookmark, sure, but for one of this quality? It felt like a steal.

Grinning to himself, he took both the book and the bookmark to the counter. The cashier, a young man with dark curls and a kind smile, wrapped the book in thick brown paper before sliding it into an elegant bag stamped with the shop’s logo. Vince pocketed the receipt and tossed it into the trash on his way to the nonfiction section, trying not to think about how Stella might question the charge on their shared account later. He’d figure out an excuse if it came up. He always did.

As he wandered past rows of books, Vince found himself drawn to the true crime section out of habit. His fingers brushed the spines of titles promising grisly tales of murder and intrigue, but nothing caught his eye. He scrunched his nose as a woman walked by, the sharp smell of cigarettes trailing behind her. Turning down a quieter aisle, he found himself in the mental health section, the shelves lined with memoirs and self-help books. The air here felt different, quieter, as though the books themselves demanded a kind of reverence. The smell of coffee and paper was stronger here, and Vince felt a strange sense of comfort, like he belonged.

His hand stopped on a book that seemed to call to him—An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness. The title struck a chord deep within him, and he picked it up, reading the blurb on the back. It was about bipolar disorder, a subject his therapist had suggested this book once, back before he’d stopped going to sessions altogether. The bag with Tony’s book hung loosely from his wrist as he cracked open the memoir and started reading the introduction. The words gripped him immediately, speaking to parts of himself he usually tried to ignore.

The writing was raw, honest, pulling him in immediately. He leaned against the shelf, the bag with Tony’s book dangling loosely from his wrist, and let himself get lost in the words. For a moment, the world outside the page faded away, replaced by the familiar ebb and flow of someone else’s struggle, someone else’s story. He barely noticed the soft shuffle of footsteps approaching until they stopped near him, the spell bursting open like—well, like an egg yolk. Vince snapped the book shut, his heart skipping a beat as he turned and looked, his eyes locking on the figure in the shadows of the aisle. His lips curled into a grin, his nerves flaring all over again.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Tony,” he breathed, the warmth in his voice undercut by a shaky edge. “Do you get off on scaring the fuck out of people, or am I just special or something?”

Vince hastily slid the book back onto the shelf, the bag with Tony’s book swinging slightly from his wrist. His grin remained, but his heart was pounding hard enough to make him feel dizzy. He stepped forward, hand outstretched in a gesture that felt weirdly formal, even ridiculous, considering everything they’d been through. But it was a reflex, a desperate grasp at normalcy in a situation that was anything but.

“It’s great to see you, man," Vince said, his grin twisting with just a hint of mischief despite the butterflies in his stomach. “I gotta say this is definitely the first time I’ve ever shaken hands with someone I’ve—” He cut himself off abruptly, swallowing the word deepthroated and plastered on a crooked smile instead. “...you know, demonstrated a lightsaber duel in front of. But you know what they say. First time for everything."

Tony’s warm, rough palm met his own in a firm handshake, the strength behind it almost grounding. But as soon as Vince felt the jagged texture of cuts along the back of Tony’s knuckles, the humor drained out of him. His fingers instinctively tightened, holding on just a second too long as his mind pieced it together. The scars were fresh, raw and scabbed over like a mosaic of anger and pain. Vince didn’t need to ask to know when it had happened.

His stomach sank.

The night. The night he’d drawn that line, friend-zoned Tony, and told himself it was for the best. Tony had gone home and done this—punched a wall, vented his frustration against an unforgiving surface rather than… rather than Vince. That thought brought with it a mix of alarm and sadness that hit Vince like a tidal wave. He tried not to flinch, tried not to let it show, but it was impossible to ignore the guilt clawing its way through his chest.

He’d caused this.

And for what? Vince didn’t feel worth the energy, the pain, the goddamn blood that Tony had shed over it. He was just some washed-up, mentally ill cop with a failing marriage and no sense of direction. The idea that Tony had gotten so angry, so hurt, because of him made Vince’s throat tighten with self-loathing.

Before he could stop himself, Vince turned Tony’s hand over gently, his thumb brushing back and forth over the scars with a tenderness that startled even him. The rough texture of healing skin was grounding in a way he didn’t expect, the warmth of Tony’s hand anchoring him against the tidal wave of his thoughts. His voice softened, low and quiet, the words coming from somewhere deep in his chest.

“Jesus, Tony…” Vince swallowed hard, his brows furrowing as he stared down at the hand in his grasp. “I’ve seen people break their hand punching walls like that. Don’t hurt yourself again. Not for me. Not because of something I did.”

He looked up then, his big blue eyes locking onto Tony’s warm brown ones, and Vince felt how dangerously close they’d gotten without him realizing. Tony’s height was as imposing as ever, making Vince feel small in a way that wasn’t unpleasant but undeniably charged.

“Get fired up about—fuck, I don’t know—deforestation or trans rights or goddamn Kyle Mulligan eating onions with his bare hands like a cave goblin,” Vince continued, his voice tinged with a hint of humor, desperate to break the weight of the moment. “Just… not me, okay? This stuff might seem painful right now, but I promise you, Tony, I’m just not worth that kind of energy. I need you to believe me when I say that.”

The words hung in the air between them, raw and unvarnished, as Vince searched Tony’s expression for any sign that he understood. More than anything, he needed him to understand. Even if it hurt. Even if it made this whole meeting unbearably uncomfortable. Tony deserved better than this. Better than him.

@tex-mex-tony

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Robert Mendick

Published: Jan 27, 2024

Less than a mile away from where we are standing, the constant rattle of gunfire is broken only by the occasional bone-shaking explosion. Here in an outer neighbourhood of Khan Younis, the Gazan city that has been gripped by the bloodiest street battles of this bloodiest of conflicts, the devastation of war is obvious. 

The ground has been flattened, except for huge piles of rubble where grand villas, owned by the Palestinian elite, have been demolished. A combination of Israeli bulldozers and explosives has laid waste to Khan Younis’s fanciest suburb. 

This is the buffer zone that Israel is now creating to protect neighbouring communities from any future incursion.

But it’s under the ground that’s the problem for Israel’s troops. “It’s no longer 180-degree fighting,” says one of the soldiers with the 55th Paratroopers Brigade, part of the 98th airborne division. 

The soldier motions in front of him, showing how a normal battle would be conducted with comrades behind and the enemy in front in a semi-circular arc. The war in Gaza, sparked by the Oct 7 massacre of civilians on Israeli kibbutzes and at a music festival, is different. 

“It’s not even 360 degrees,” says the paratrooper, referring to what might be expected in close combat urban fighting. “This is 720 degrees.” 

The soldier looks down into the dirt. The Hamas terrorists are beneath his feet. Catching and killing them is not proving easy. Yahya Sinwar, the Hamas leader and mastermind of the October 7 attacks, remains at large. “When we see him, we will kill him,” says a senior commander.

Beneath us are, according to the Israeli colonel accompanying us, 160 miles of tunnels radiating out from Khan Younis. The scale is staggering. Gaza itself is only 25 miles long and barely seven miles wide.

On Friday morning, a Telegraph reporter and photographer were escorted into a suburb of Gaza’s southernmost city by the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) largely to give a better understanding of how the war is being waged. 

The tunnels explain Israel’s slow progress. It’s been almost four months since the massacre in which 1,200 people were killed and more than 240 people taken hostage. By Israel’s standards, this is an already overlong war. Since the start of the conflict, more than 200 IDF soldiers have died, including 24 last week on the deadliest day of the campaign for the Israeli military.

[ Israeli soldiers survey the flattened terrain of Khan Younis, punctuated only by the rubble of once opulent villas. ]

Lt Col Anshi (The Telegraph has agreed not to give his full name) stands over a tunnel he is showing us, terrifyingly close to the border fence with Israel. We are able to scramble down a 20ft drop, dug out by Israeli bulldozers, that exposes the tunnel that plummets steeply into the ground a further 80ft. 

The tunnel, less than three feet wide, was used by Hamas to infiltrate Israel on Oct 7. Its entrance, hidden by the dirt at the surface, was less than 100 yards from the fencing that terrorists cut through before launching an attack on Kibbutz Ein Hashlosha, where four residents were murdered and multiple hostages taken. 

From the tunnel, we can clearly see the breaches in the fence. It’s a chilling reminder of what happened back in October.

The day before The Telegraph arrived, the IDF blew up the tunnel but there remained such nervousness that before we could inspect it, two soldiers slid down to its entrance with their guns ready and aimed into its black hole. 

They shone torches in before waving us to inspect what was left. The tunnel is tiny, designed only to be used to attack Israel, its entrance close to the fence and able to fit through one fighter at a time. Its total length is unclear but it runs under agricultural fields for what must be a mile.

“We have blown up hundreds of tunnel shafts,” says Lt Col Anshi, a 46-year-old reservist who has had to temporarily abandon his IT job and his family, spending the past 50 days and counting in Gaza. He had a week off to recuperate only after being shot through the arm (“I was lucky,” he says. “The bullet came in and came out.”)

[ Soldiers on patrol in Khan Younis, where they are painstakingly tearing apart the tunnel structure used to attack Israel on Oct 7. ]

He likens the tunnels to the London Underground, many of them interconnected but also serving different purposes. “I cannot go into details but today we feel we have a very good solution for the tunnels,” he says. 

Incrementally, the IDF has been able to map them out. “Every second or third building has an entrance shaft. It can be in the courtyard or inside the building itself. The network is so extensive. Each tunnel is marked with an icon. They [the marks] are usually by the entrance shaft,” says Lt Col Anshi.

In the street battles in Khan Younis, Hamas fighters can suddenly appear from nowhere. “They jump out with an RPG [rocket-propelled grenade]. We are not fighting an organised conventional army but small squads of four to six fighters. Our main challenge is to shoot them in the few seconds when they are popping out of the hole,” says Lt Col Anshi.

It’s like the fairground game of whack-a-mole, but with dire consequences for the loser. “There is no army vs army like in the old days. It is two terrorists coming out of a hole shooting and we are firing back.”

As we stand discussing the progress of the war, the gunfire coming from the city intensifies. From time to time – every 10 minutes or maybe less – a huge explosion rings out and accompanying smoke, black or dark grey billows into the sky. 

The areas we are being shown are safe - the IDF has controlled this territory for about a month - but the fighting feels very close by and certainly intense. Helicopters fire missiles from overhead at distant, unseen targets. The Hamas-controlled Gazan Health Ministry estimates at least 25,000 people have been killed and a horrifying number of them are women and children. How many of the dead are Hamas terrorists is unclear.

‘There is no Iwo Jima here’

I ask Lt Col Ansi what winning looks like as we survey the rubble and the mayhem, the loud bangs and the gunfire making conversation not always easy. He pauses and looks at me. “That’s a good question,” he says. He pauses again. 

“It [winning] is accumulative. There is no Iwo Jima and a flag goes up,” he explains, in reference to the famous photograph of American troops victorious on the Japanese island in the Second World War. 

“This infrastructure of tunnels has been built over the course of a decade. This,” he says pointing at the tunnel below us, “is one of thousands and thousands. Every 24 hours we uncover another 50, 60, 70 shafts and blow up two tunnels. You do the maths. It will take time but we have a solution. We go shaft by shaft, tunnel by tunnel.”

[ A memorial at the festival site of the Supernova Sukkot gathering. ]

The Khan Younis tunnels appear more extensive than elsewhere in Gaza. It’s estimated the network stretches for 160 miles in and around the city.

The tunnels are often connected, but Israel has discovered that they have different purposes. Some, like the one we are staring at, are designed only to attack. Others are for smuggling goods into Gaza and some are described as “VIP tunnels”, available for the Hamas leadership to stay below ground, avoiding assassination attempts and linking grand villas to Hamas offices. 

Those tunnels are, says Lt Col Ansi, offering a glimpse into how the Strip was run, lined with marble. “Our main goal is to destroy the system. We are not going to get to every Hamas militant although we are trying. But we are dismantling Hamas as an organisation. That is the main goal,” he said.

From the tunnel, we are taken in a soft-topped ‘Hummer’’ along a dirt road built by the IDF that runs into Khan Younis. The road weaves its way through a wasteland that was once home to the Strip’s wealthier residents. Their villas are destroyed. 

[ An Israeli Merkava tank in front of a school the soldiers say had been used as a base by Hamas in Khan Younis. ]

A quick calculation suggests maybe one in 20 has been left standing but it’s impossible to be precise. The vehicle travels swiftly along the bumpy road and it’s hard to know where a villa might once have stood. The homes that were destroyed contained tunnel shafts, many of them booby-trapped, which Israel says show a link to the Hamas terror network. They are claims that are impossible to verify.

“We have controlled this neighbourhood for more than a month,” explains Lt Col Ansi. The route is used to maintain logistics to back up IDF forces fighting in Khan Younis, but the colonel adds: “The front line is everywhere. Active battles are about a mile from where we are. It is door-to-door. It is difficult.”

Maj Sharon, another officer accompanying The Telegraph journalists, surveys the carnage of the flattened villas. He has little sympathy. 

“They had some really nice places. But that’s from corruption. They get support [aid] money stolen by Hamas. The money goes to a select few people close to the leadership. It’s UN money, it’s Qatari money.”

Down the road from the tunnel, maybe half a mile, we reach a primary school that is still standing, about the only building in the neighbourhood that is, but has clearly seen a lot of action. It has become a base for the IDF, with two Merkava tanks stationed in front along with assorted armoured support vehicles. 

The walls are pock-marked with bullet holes but incongruously cartoons of children that decorate the building have survived the fierce fighting. Balls of razor wire guard the entrance and metal boxes that contained Israeli ammunition litter the ground.

Lt Col Anshi suffered his injury in a firefight at another school closer to Khan Younis. This school was captured on December 5 and Israeli flags now hang from the building.

“This is a school that unfortunately was used for terrorist purposes,” says Lt Col Anshi. “We had skirmishes here and another battle further down the road.” He says a shaft to a tunnel was found in the school’s courtyard. 

As he talks, the gunfire appears to get closer followed by a huge explosion that makes me jump. The colonel doesn’t flinch and nor do his men. They are used to it. It is the sound of the IDF blowing up another Gazan building. The thick grey smoke and ash come floating in our direction, making it briefly hard to see.

‘If we don’t win, the world will suffer’

Another commander, Maj Ishai, pulls me back as our Hummer is about to leave the area. We have been in Khan Younis for a couple of hours and the IDF is getting twitchy. But the major wants me to know of their determination to finish the fight that Hamas had started. 

“We need to find our brothers here,” he says, a reference to the 130 or so hostages who remain unaccounted for. Many are almost certainly already dead. “And we need to make sure it doesn’t happen again. I cannot go home without my brothers and leave them to suffer.”

The major also has a message for the rest of the watching world. “We believe our fight is a fight for all the world. If we don’t win here against the Islamists, then all the world will suffer.” 

I shake his hand and climb into the Hummer, leaving him to return to his comrades and the dust and the rubble and the gunfire and the explosions.