#i just think the parallels are interesting

[littlemissmaples]

What does your Future Spouse look like?

Pile One: Flowers

Whether your FS is male or female, I'm getting the impression that they have some similarities to Chapelle Roan, or simply just listen to her. I’ve already written everything I need for this reading, I’m just going back and polishing it, so I would like to take the time now to say that there are three consistent themes within this reading that appeared within this reading for me.

1. Your FS likely resembles a celebrity in some way (you’ve probably read another one of my PAC’s before and you fell under the pile where I talked about Zendaya and Tom Holland)

2. Your imagine of your FS isn’t entirely what you think. There is something here that is a little different than what you image or expected.

and 

3. Some of you are Queer and want your FS to be a woman. (For some of you though, you could be straight but just don’t mind if your FS happens to be queer or a woman who has many partners before. Some of you are looking for a dominant woman lmao. You’ll have it, haha.)

Anyways, if that sounds like you, welcome, welcome, let’s get onto your reading!

If your FS identifies as a woman, there’s a strong chance she has a similar look or vocal tone to Chapelle Roan, this hasn’t leaved me as I typed, although I’m getting that she probably doesn’t sings much, if at all, although she may just have that striking tone to her voice and appearance as a whole. She may also be a theater kid or have more of a theater-kid vibe about her, although this may just be you more than her. There are some parallels between the two of you (I’m also getting red lips, take it if that resonates, drop if not.) they may have a lot of similarities to you if not in appearance than interest. (I’m getting Hamilton and 21 Chump Street for some of you, maybe she likes musicals.) As I mentioned before there is a bit of a queer energy here, although don’t worry if you’re not, i’ll get to those of you who’s partner is likely male in a minute, but I digress. If you’re looking for a woman, I’m getting you’re looking for one who’s not only queer but also has a bit of that femme-fatale, Joan-of-Arc kind of vibe to her, like she’s a mix of princess and knight with a Renaissance-like appearance. I’m getting she definitely has that. Although for some of you this is likely a “Dream” and you’re being asked to be a little bit more “realistic” about your FS, no that they don’t exist or you the way you imagine but some of you imagine this warrior of a woman with big bright red flowy hair, something like maxie from Under the Oak Tree maybe, (but less shy) when in reality, her hair may be more of a brown-ish red rather than that bright almost blonde-ish ginger red you would see in like a movie or something, or perhaps more of a dyed color red. I feel like for some of you your FS may not even have red hair but just have dark wavy brown hair and freckles and while they will be outspoken they’re likely a little bit more introverted than you expected, but this doesn’t mean she’ll be any less fun or into the kind of stuff you’re into, i’m getting this is somewhat of my kinky pile and some of you are looking for a dominant woman, you’ll have it, you’ll have it, but don’t reduce her to only that, okay, haha. <3

If your FS identities as male, I sense a mix of patience and a bit of impatience from you lmao, you’re sick and tired of waiting both for me to get to describing your FS and also you’re sick of waiting for him to show up, but I’m getting there’s this back-and-forth inside you of what you want your FS to look like vs what they’ll most likely look like. (I know what my next PAC is gonna be about now lol.) Look, my love, your FS might not match the exact picture in your mind. 

And that’s okay. I’m literally getting the image of a slightly sun-kissed, blonde-haired, bright-eyed, “golden retriever” type of boyfriend who could be a book lover and surfer who hangs out at the beach often and is a fond of marine life and what not, the “perfect” guy with a chiseled jaw and bright gorgeous brown eyes that make you melt under the sun. Thiiiis is not him lmao, but this does not mean this is “not” him. What do I mean by this.

Much like I told you, or the other side of Pile one if you skipped the first half. Your FS has some qualities about them that are different from what you expected. I get the sense that you’re afraid he’s not going to be your type and that you’re not going to be attracted and perhaps you try hard to let go of this and tell yourself that you’re okay with “any” type no matter how he looks like, but sugar, 1. It’s okay to have a type but 2. It’s okay to allow yourself to be okay to like someone outside of your type. You need to be a little bit more kind to your mind and understand that you have no idea what this guy looks like, perhaps you have very high standards or maybe even a light prejudice that holds you back from imagine him to look like anything except what you imagine him like, I’m not here to judge you but you need to understand that if you want to grow past this, healing does not come from judgment, you can’t grow and shame yourself all at once. If you’re judging yourself, ask yourself why, sit with that thought or feeling and see what it wants and why is it there, do whatever you need for yourself in that moment and then let it pass by and evolve. You’ll be just fine <3 But back to your FS, your FS is a criminally attractive. You might not notice it at first because they don’t look how you imagined in your head, but once you give them the space they need to shine in front of you, oh man you’re never coming back.

I’m getting some of you are looking for more of a “Golden Retriever” type boyfriend but you’re likely to end up with more of a “Black Cat” kind of personality. They might actually be Black, like African American (I’m getting some of you are African yourselves, perhaps you’re from West Africa, you might be the same ethnicity but don’t worry this man will NOOOOOT look like your father lmao) or if they’re a woman, they may have more “Cat-Like” eyes and be a little quieter and have sharper more model like features than what you expected, think Nara Smith but with more of a bolder, Alt style/personality. Anyways, your FS is hard for me to describe because of this very reason, whenever I go to say something about them, your energy comes in with a panic “NO!” you say, hahaha. For some of you, you have NOTHING to worry about and they look EXAAAACTLY what you imagine them to look like, but maybe with one tiny, itty, bitty difference like maybe they longer lashes than you expected or they have a beauty mark on their face. But for others, they look like how you imaged but 1 key treat is just the opposite. If they’re male I get the sense, you’re looking for someone whos has softer feature or maybe they’re “beautiful” in an almost feminine sense, your FS will likely be likely be like this.  I feel like this is a very beautiful guy or maybe this is just your rose colored glasses trying to paint him like that again, haha, guys, please, I promise he’s beautiful, he’s very pretty but I get the sense some of you are attaching an almost unrealistic standard to how he’s gonna look like. You’re really indecisive here arent you? I keep repeating myself in this reading, it’s wild. But I promise I get it, it ain’t your fault. But do know that your FS DOES looks like a celebrity of some sort, if it’s not someone you recognie then maybe they just have the appearance of someone who would do good under the public eye, someone who’s very aesthetic and dresses well. But do keep the whole “1 opposite trait thing.”

If you expect them to look feminine, they’ll likely be masculine with feminine features.

If you expect them to be be silent and reserved, they’ll likely be calm but very sociable.

If you expect them to be tough and a lonewolf, they’ll likely be warm hearted but stern in a way.

I’ve been all over the place with this reading, let’s focus solely on their appearance.

If female she may look like Nara Smith or Chapelle Roan, If male a celebrity isn’t coming into mind (instagram model for some) but whatever image of a person, celebrity or not it is that you have in mind is the “Base” of their appearance BUT, find a trait, whatever it is that sticks out to you the most and switch it for something else. If her hair’s short, it’s likely rather long. If she’s Tall in your head, she’s probably a littler short. If he’s thin and a bit more on the delicate side, imagine him to be lean in his built or with a slightly rugged edge. Brown or “Reddish” Brown eyes for them.

That’s all for now, haha, as wild of a ride as this was, I had fun, I hope this reading brought you something. If you’d like a more personalized reading though feel free to buy a reading from me off my Ko-Fi! Donations are also appreciated (though never required, your time here with me was more than enough today <3)

I hope to see you again babes!!

Pile Two: Bicycle

Wow.. I don’t know how to describe your FS to you, I suddenly got this overwhelming sense of peace over me. I was just listening to United In Grief by Kendrick Lamar and now my phone’s Playing Blue Dream which honestly tells me so much about them. I feel like this person is just, honestly, a dream, I want to say they’re so pretty, but honestly calling them a beauty would be almost an understatement. They could be very spiritual, I’m struggling to pick up if they’re male or female, they may be non-binary and Identify as they/them or they may just be somewhat genderfluid. If they’re a woman, they have some “masculine” features to them, perhaps thicker eyebrows and wider shoulders, but honestly these features of their just make them appear even more mystical and more elegant. They can have very clear skin. If they’re male they might have some more “feminine” features about them, like soft beautiful lashes or a little beauty mark under the eye like that of a 1920’s actress. This person makes me think of incense, perhaps they meditate often or light some nice incense around the house, they really have this lovely earthy-spiritual vibe about them. If they’re black they may be light skin with soft curls, though for some of you it’s a tighter curl pattern, for others of you this person is simply foreign she could be south african if a woman and kind of resemble someone like Tyla, if male their ethnicity could genuinely be anything, though I’m getting they’re likely very mixed, they really give me Jhene Aiko vibes which makes sense given how she’s Black, Japanese, Dominican and something else I believe??? Correct me if I’m wrong. Overall this man is a beauty, I’m not sure why the Movie Millenium Actress by Satoshi Kon is coming into mind, but like the main character he could have a very calm, yet determined demeanor to him, I’m getting he’s been patiently searching for love for a very long time, much like her, a love that he’s not sure he’ll ever come to cross but he’s possible he’ll find one day. Gosh I can’t wait for you guys to meet. 

Alright let’s continue talking about appearance, they may have a ���sleepiness” to their eyes and a sweetness to their smile that’s very calming, they might wear very flowy clothing or comfortable loose fitting clothes. I want to say street wear but honestly it’s a little more modest than regular street wear, this is only for a few of you but they may be muslim. Even if they aren’t they’re very stylish but they have a uniqueness to their appearance you wouldn’t expect to find anywhere else, it’s like a mix of modern and ancient. Like Imagine mixing punk with decora but still somehow making it work. I get the sense your future spouse might either be experimenting with their style or simply not have singular style and likes to try out different clothes. 

This is also something not appearance related, but they may not talk much, they’re likely more a of a listener, they’ll likely like to hear you talk more, although I’m getting the sense you won’t be able to do much talking around them when they’re admiring you lovingly with those deep inquisitive eyes of their, haha. Honestly, being with this person is just going to bring you such a sense of peace and I get when they do open their mouth it’s always going to be the silliest thing that makes you laugh or something that’s thought provoking and inspires soul-searching. I recommend you listen to Blue Dream by Jhene Aiko, their energy to me feels so similar to this. I keep finding myself saying “What a Dream! What a Dream!” this could be you, or them although I get that you’ve never been with a person like this, I get that you might not expect to fall for them as hard as you did, but just know that when they met you, god, they knew it’d be no one else but you from that very moment <3

That is all my dove!

If you’d like a more personalized reading, feel free to purchase one from me off my Ko-Fi! (link at the end of your pile)

Donations are also appreciated (though never required, your time here with me was more than enough for me <3)

I hope to see you again, my dream!! (This could also be a nickname they might have for you or you for them now that I think of it <3)

P.S

Snoop Dogg keeps coming into my head during this reading, Idk why lol, it’s possible they may be very silly and good hearted or just have ADHD or be Neuro-Divergent in some way lmao.

Pile Three: Tabby Kitten

Pile one and two both had people who’s future spouse’s were likely Female, I’m sorry to say that if you’ve selected this pile expecting a woman, this is likely not for you. Wow, this person is MASCULINE like H.E.L.L honestly, they’re almost influencing the way I write, it’s very hard lmao to type casually like I do, but they’re very forward in the way that they talk. I feel like you likely know this person, I wouldn’t say this is an ex or perhaps someone that you’ve had a situationship with. I feel like they have a lot to say to you, I’m getting someone who’s more on the “Rough and Roudy” side, I almost don’t want to give physical descriptions, they’re someone who likes to banter a bit or sometimes be a little bit of a tease. They’re a lot to handle, maybe a bit intense but I don’t get that they’re toxic. This is for a few of you but he gives me “Booktok” vibes lmao, he might have tattoos. Is this guy real? Lmao??

I want today this guy doesn’t exist and I just got sma-OH SHIT!! WAAAAIT I GET IT. LMAOO.

Oh my gosh girl!! It’s not that he doesn’t exist, it’s that Y O U think he doesn’t exist!! This guy that you describe as your “boyfriend” could be like a mix of several book-boyfriends, he’s every troupe that you like but with a healthy-mindset-not-actually-toxic-and-wont-hurt-you-maybe-others-but-never-you vibe. BIIITTTCH AAAHH, oh my gosh, I feel like we’re at a sleep over and I’m geeking out with you. I get the sense that maybe you’ll be hanging out with friends and when you finally show them a picture of him they’ll all be screaming with you like I am. I really want to say this person is not real, but Jesus fuck, you’ve manifested this so hard I get the sense that this man actually does exist, like maybe you’re into super natural and your favorite character was Dean, he may look somewhat like Dean but with Tattoos and black hair and drives a motorcycle. Do you watch Doctor Who?? Are you a 90s kid or do you just like the aesthetic because I feel like I’m time traveling, maybe Dean isnt exactly your type but you’re more into a slender, pretty guy aesthetic who have piercings and isnt afraid to paint their hair and wear dark clothes. Lmao, I have no idea where this is going but sis I get that this person really exists, I’m not getting any opportunities to say no even as a joke. 

The only thing is though that there are two of you here, for some of you, you really want the bad boy boyfriend of your dreams and you’ll get him exactly and you imagine him! But for others of you this – OK, idk wtf I just pressed but my computer like glitched almost and I deleted half of everything I wrote before pressing Ctrl + Z to bring it all back. KEEP THIS MINDSET THAT YOU HAVE AND DO NOT CHANGE IT BECAUSE BABYGIRL YOU’RE ALMOST THERE!! The only warning I am getting is to NEVER settle for less, because for a lot of you, you might fall victim to depressive energies and wanting to heal someone else and trap yourself in toxic relationships with shitty guys who use rock music and punk aesthetic and “nonchalantness” as an excuse to be dickheads to their partners and the people they’re supposed to love. NEVER settle for less, you paved the way, maybe some of you have been in past toxic relationships already LET THIS GO and never fall behind again, pick yourself back up Queen (or King or Your Majesty if you’re male or a they/them <3) and PUSH!! PUSH FORWARD YOU GOT THIS!!

And finally some of you don’t give a damn about no future spouse or tarot stuff but you just wanted to pick a pile and read something for fun haha. For others of you your spouse themselves may be reading this together with you in the same room, haha, I’m rooting for you!

Anyways, whomever you are, I hope you get the experience of your dream with this person and that they treat you like absolute royalty, don’t always remember this, that you don’t need to be reminded by someone else that you’re worth treating correctly, you are and have always been special, you are and have always been worth loving <3

“See ya, princess <3” (they may call you this, that’s for a few of you)

Byeee!! I hope to see ya soon! And if you’d like a reading from me, feel free to purchase one from my Ko-Fi or perhaps leave a little donation! Anything and Everything is appreciated but never required! Your time here with me has been more than enough! :D <3

I hope to see ya again soon!

[for-those-who-wait]

Hey I think I asked you about your Detroit become human au before a bit ago but I love the idea so much! I know you’re super busy but if you can I would love to see more about it!

Sorry for asking about it again I’m just really interested in it. 😭🙏

No please don't be sorry I love to talk about it whenever I'm not creatively bankrupt!! I'm just sorry it took so long for me to actually think of new stuff to add

I had some of these doodles already prepared but never really finished them up until I came up with a cute little idea

I didn't think of where to put in Flapjack until I remembered that android animals existed, and then I had a brain blast moment where I realized that Hunter can still talk to Flapjack! They are little android buddies, they can interface and talk and be friends!! I think it would also help to make him feel a bit more comfortable with his identity as an android to be able to have his little buddy to have fun private conversations with. Camila introduces them (maybe he had gotten hurt by a previous owner and she found him and let Gus fix him up) and Hunter is a bit tentative about it at first, but Flapjack is adorable and sweet and quickly wins him over

I just now had the idea that Gus, since he's super into android stuff, would probably be a big resource for software and hardware difficulties. Oh, you fell and your arm is working kinda wonky? Call up Gus, he'll crack you open and take a look. The dude doesn't mind in the least, he freaking LOVES going down mechanical and coding rabbit holes to better understand how androids work. I like to think that if Hunter ever got hurt and chose not to accept help because of body/species dysphoria, Gus would be a really good resource for him to try and feel as normal as possible while he's getting fixed. Gus is his brother and he loves him and they're just good to each other okay? Gus would probably crack some jokes or something to get Hunter's mind off it, or infodump about android organs or something (and Hunter would be begrudgingly interested because they are nerds, and Hunter is interested in androids too underneath all the problems he has with deviancy. Like dude they're robots, what's not to love?)

Also some Gus being so over Hunter's "androids can't feel love" phase featuring Vee and Masha being very adorable and very obviously in love :) Hunter is a very silly stupid man. He will find any way to make literally everyone exempt from the terrible rules Philip fed him, except for himself

I'm trying to think of a potential situation that would parallel Hunter's possession, and I think it would probably be basically the same thing that happens in Connor's deviant path (when he deviates and joins the revolution as an ally) where Amanda (a separate AI in his programming that's basically how CyberLife keeps him in check) takes over Connor's programming last minute to try and put a stop to the revolution.

So my current thought is that Philip is basically using Hunter as a trojan horse. His main programming is to act and believe like he's a normal human but similar to Connor, he's basically a sleeper agent without knowing. I imagine that once Hunter gains access to his software (thanks to Vee and Gus), he starts finding programs and files that are labeled as pretty scary things. He shouldn't have to know the most efficient way to shut an android down or incapacitate a human.

If and when Philip finally goes looking for Hunter and sees the first android he's seen in Gravesfield besides Hunter (aka Vee), he's not going to take that well.

I haven't drawn anything for it but so far I'm thinking that he takes control of Hunter's programming, maybe through some taking advantage of his interfacing system, and locks him in his own head a la Connor and Amanda to sic him after Vee and Flapjack (assuming that Philip's main goal, similar to both canons, is to eradicate deviants). It's likely that his friends will try to apprehend him, Vee or Gus will try (and maybe fail a couple times) to delete the programming while Camila deals with Philip. The guy is old and decrepit and Camila would absolutely whoop his ass with the ease of swatting a fly.

Things will be fine; Vee is all good and they manage to delete whatever programming screwed with Hunter's control, but that kid is going to be HELLA anxious about interfacing again from then on since he's afraid of 1) losing his own control and 2) potentially passing the virus onto someone else. It could go two ways at that point: Hunter could either kill Flapjack since Flapjack is technically a deviant android and therefore a target, or we can be nice and let Flapjack live to help him heal from this brand-new trauma.

So yeah hopefully that sates some curiosity! I'm glad you're interested in it because I honestly really love to think of new stuff whenever my brain decides to work hahaha

[cl-0v3r]

Mel is alive, but at what cost

Mel was nearly killed TWICE, her mother began being a struggle, she'd been thrown aside and trying her best to stop her, her boyfriend is not doing well, neither is anyone else (can't blame them) and the fact that she hadn't cried or spoke much about this situation to anyone a single time?? She IS upset about every single thing, yet she stays strong and enduring every bit of torture. The most she did was tell Jayce that Ambessa put her palm on the table, and let him know that she is going to push for hextech. That's it, nothing remotely related to her feelings.

The fact that she was constantly looking at Caitlyn, being able to understand her grief and knew she was in pain?? Mel knows this feeling. She'd went through it.

And in the end SHE has to pay the price of her mothers incompetence.

The intro is very much foreshadowing, we know the hands represent black rose/LeBlanc.

This is what happens in act one, she gets kidnapped by them. The lyrics do correspond to the characters as well (not just Mel, everyone.)

"Tell you you're the greatest" plays as a petal of the black rose floats down the screen, I think it adds significance to the power this organization holds, possibly the Medardas greatest foe.

"But once you turn, they hate us" both Ambessa and Mel were present in this line, I think its foreshadowing for when Ambessa switches up for whatever reason and goes against both Piltover AND Zaun. And Mel WILL go through change as well, a change that could hurt her relationship with others, and receive interest from others too.

"They hate us" could be read individually too, I feel like its a sort of "realization" ?? Perhaps Ambessa WASN'T the one that switched up, maybe Piltover switched up on them, and maybe Mel JUST got out of wherever she's taken to, and saw the mess Ambessa had done to her city??

I think this represents ACT TWO.

The hands pull away and it sort of looks like Mel is fighting back, a "get away from me" type of scream. you know what this reminds me of??

Don't mind me just pushing my Jinx/powder-Mel parallel agenda

Here is when i think Mel truly learns about LeBlanc/BR, she curiously and slowly goes to grab the rose, she learns about the history between her Mother and them, Kinos death, and most of all, learns about HERSELF. The lyrics speak otherwise.

"Pray away, I swear

I'll never be a saint, no way"

This feels like a parallel to caitlyn of sorts if that makes sense. Caitlyn had done everything to try and stop the council from attacking the Undercity, she kept her mouth shut when Jayce asked about Jinxs grenade, she was willing to protect Vi and the undercity, but how many times has she been tossed around? She'd been burned, exploded, kidnapped (god knows what happened during that time) and hit in the face by the same person, her MOTHER died because of the same person. She has every right to go insane. And she is hunting ONE person, which is Jinx. Although she is harming the people around her along the way.

What if Mel goes through a similar situation? Her mother pushed for war in her city, she dragged the enemy along with her even if she didn't mean to, she manipulated everyone around her INCLUDING Jayce, she LITERALLY got Mel hurt from the chembarons attack and killed so many people during a MEMORIAL to get her hextech weapons, Elora is most likely DEAD, not to mention whatever happened in the past between them. And the thing is, this will NEVER end throughout the entire season.

And what if she learns what she is? That she's 'blessed' by Kindred? The fact that the wolf is quite literally in her blood?

I feel like the "ill never be a saint, no way" also sort of indicates Mel will realize she'll never be able to push for peace and mercy like she always hoped for no matter what, and she comes to accept that as much as it hurts. But not like how ambessa accepted the wolf, but she sort of realizes she needs to push a little violence, towards nobody but the one and only, Ambessa "fine, if you want me to be like you, I guess I'll be like you towards YOU." Type of acceptance.

I think its also related to Mels new outfit too, she's dressed like her mother, in red and all of that. I will still stand by the idea that she has plans to decieve, but she will do something she doesn't want to do.

Mel was left with no choice, that lyric sounds like realization, acceptance, but also like a plea at the same time, an "I'll never be who I wanted to be" because in the end, she's still a Medarda, she's still her mothers daughter, she still has violence in her veins, she will never not suffer from the weight her name holds, and she will never escape it either, its like a shadow.

The Characters won't be themselves at their core this season. And those vital parts of their characters that represent them are no longer there in the intro, they all have given up what makes them, THEM design wise. (e.g.) Vi without her tattoo, Viktor hiding his identity with the mask. And the thing is, they did that to themselves because they do self-harm, they're changing themselves because THEY want to, they're forcing themselves to do that, they think they're undeserving and they're erasing their past selves.

But Mel? Mel doesn't have her gold accessories, Jewelry, or her Armor, she'd been stripped bare and hidden away because of the brutality of her name. She pays the price her mother brought to HER city. She's forced to change herself against her will, because nobody is giving her a chance to push for her ideals.

This entire theory never ends, and with all of this? I kinda do see Mel actually committing Matricide, it lifts the "Ambessa will die" theory further.

[griddleharkbrainrot]

The masterpost I use for all my Annabelle Lee analysis if anyone was interested. It's just a comparison collage but I think it speaks for itself and does a good job of highlighting the parallels

I’m currently thinking about how John and Co. refused to call Alecto by her name. They named her fury and vengeance but could not acknowledge what made her thus. They call her Annie Laurie, reducing her to her looks, those so inhuman and frightening yet beautiful all the same. John gave her the name Annabel Lee, naming her existence as a tragedy in that she was his love lost. In both instances the literary references reduce the woman mentioned to nothing but set dressing for the man of the story and it truly betrays John’s thoughts on Alecto for as much as he claimed to love her, he sees her only as the stepping stone for his own story. “For John so loved her that he had made her she. For John had loved the world.” And that is the crux of the matter, John had loved the world but she is not the world, she is its fury. John wanted her to be calm beaches and lapping waves, he wanted a wife, sister, mother, and daughter all in one, but instead, he got 7 million silenced voices crying out in agony, furious at the injustice done to them. I think subconsciously he understood that when he named her Alecto, fury of wrath from Greek Mythology. But even if he had called her Gaia she would still be furious, for was it not Gaia who gave her children the scythe to kill her husband? Was it not Gaia who roared and shrieked to the depths of Tartarus when her children were torn from her arms? The first bearer of prophecy was forged from the grief and rage of an anguished mother; the earth has always been furious. John’s fatal flaw was that he could not comprehend that the rage was for him. He who promised love and safety but cut and stripped her soul stole her children and butchered her corpse. John could never truly comprehend that what he deemed his perfect creation could resent him the way she did. He took her away and reforged her into something she could never be. John denies the resentment Alecto feels for him and we can see this reflected in how he refers to her. John is the sort of man who thinks that if he sees a woman as nothing but her looks, he can make her lesser. To him, she is Annie Laurie of beautiful bust and a personality nonexistent; To him, she is Annabel Lee, a woman so pure and lovely that the angels stole her away from him. Subconsciously, the lyctors have adopted this as well, calling her these names out of fear and not realizing the implications of what they are doing. Even in writing, she is A.L. to them because somewhere deep down they know that to name her wrath is to invite it and invoke it. John believed that if he could compress the Earth into a beautiful shell then he could control it. The Earth has been around for far longer than he could ever truly comprehend, and she is furious.

For @commanderbabygirl thoughts?

I did not realize just how many opinions I had on this until I started typing

[miscellaneouzz]

More Vox Machina meta time bc I feel like people do NOT talk enough about how complex Pike and Scanlan’s relationship is. First off the show is very good at steering away from the typical he’s-annoying-so-she-eventually-gives-in misogynistic approach a lot of those types of dynamics have. Like it initially comes off as just cute and flirtatious until their dynamic ironically becomes the least romantically driven of the main ships in a way that’s far more layered than I expected. It always feels like Pike’s complicated feelings come with observing Scanlan from a distance, she’ll flirt back and play along but ultimately wants to see the person he COULD be, the more sincere and earnest side to him (which can also be tied to Zerxus’ comment about her taking pride in “redeeming” her friends).

But then from Scanlan’s perspective, becoming the person he “could” be means distancing himself from Pike completely, because he’s in love with her and in his mind he sees that as an example of him clinging to his old habits of “finding all the wrong ways” to fill his emptiness. His scene with her on the balcony felt like such a culmination of both their complicated feelings– him relying on those coping mechanisms and Pike recognizing that– and I think that’s part of why he cried and why Pike pulled away at the last second. After that scene, we pretty much see Scanlan stop pursuing romantic interest in Pike for the rest of the season, but she’s still the only person he’ll be vulnerable with.

So then comes this heartbreaking irony that Pike’s been wanting more sincerity from Scanlan for a while now, only for Scanlan finally opening up more about his feelings to include him saying things that end up hurting and pushing away Pike. Because now Scanlan being more vulnerable and sincere means finally admitting he doesn’t view Vox Machina as his “real” family and that he never thought he mattered when he was with them and I don’t think that’s something Pike was truly ready for. And in the end Scanlan is still defining his worth purely on his relationships with others– if he’s no longer pouring his identity into romance/sex, he’s gotta pour it all into his newfound parenthood. He’s still flawed and not in a way where everything just hinges on Pike to “fix” him.

I think when it comes to the romantic relationships in the series it’s the one I’m most invested in from a character perspective. They’re the only pairing that’s yet to sincerely confess or discuss feelings for each other despite how much their relationship focuses on the need for sincerity and it’s so interesting. Like through the relationship struggles of Keyleth x Vax and Percy x Vex, we still see them be more open and upfront with both the conflicts and resolutions of their feelings for each other.

Pike & Scanlan are the only ship we’ve seen neither for, neither a straightforward conversation on the conflict of their relationship itself nor a sincere resolution to their feelings. And I think it has a lot to do with the parallel you can make about their own crisis of identity. Their character motivations and struggles with identity are not entirely dependent on each other as Scanlan has a tumultuous relationship with parenthood and Pike with her faith yet they impact each other so deeply.

There’s a lot more to say BUT for now… onto whatever season 4 brings for the gnomes!

[wethotcrazy]

Parallel Lines

pairing: Yuki Tsunoda x Olympic Figure Skater! Reader

word count: 6638

i've had this marinating in my brain for a bit. i just think that racing and skating have such interesting juxtaposition so here it is.

Sagamihara always had a sleepy kind of charm, but Yuki and YN felt something else in the quiet mornings and late nights, the stillness only broken by the hum of dreams in motion. Growing up here meant routines and rituals, like early morning alarms and empty streets, the cold air pinching at their cheeks as they walked out to different but parallel paths.

They’d seen each other countless times over the years: two kids with big dreams crossing paths by chance, brushing against each other’s lives without ever truly touching. YN was always the girl with the figure skates slung over her shoulder, eyes bright and posture poised even at dawn. Yuki, in contrast, was the scrappy boy with an endless supply of karting posters and racing memorabilia, always dashing toward the next practice with the fierce focus of a kid who already knew his path.

When they passed each other, there was always a nod, a polite “Good morning” or “Good night,” exchanged in those shared spaces—two people who understood the solitude of dreams.

The first time Yuki saw her was on his way home after a long day at the track, dirt and oil streaked across his cheek. YN was on her way to the rink, her skates glittering in her hands, her hair pulled back in a tidy ponytail. She looked ready to take on the world, and he couldn’t help but admire that, even as he ducked his head slightly, embarrassed by his own disheveled state. She’d simply smiled, nodding in that small, knowing way, and gone on her way.

Yuki didn’t know it at the time, but that look—the look of someone fully consumed by a dream—was something he’d come to recognize again and again over the years.

As they grew older, they kept moving in the same direction: toward ambition, toward something beyond Sagamihara. But they’d drifted apart in other ways. Yuki’s weekends became filled with karting, and then, one day, with plans for Europe—his sights set on Formula 1. YN’s weekends were consumed by rink hours, the constant, punishing quest to perfect each routine, each jump, each spin. They still crossed paths, sometimes outside the ice rink or the train station, exchanging those same fleeting nods.

It was strange—Sagamihara wasn’t large, yet somehow, they’d managed to orbit each other like planets, moving along parallel paths that never seemed to converge.

One summer evening, just after dusk, they crossed paths again, older now, YN carrying a gym bag and wearing a jacket from the national team, Yuki carrying a helmet, his clothes scuffed from a day of karting. They stood there, paused on the quiet street, and he couldn’t help but break the usual silence.

“You’re still skating, then?”

She nodded, her eyes warm with a familiar determination. “And you’re still racing.”

“Planning to stop anytime soon?” he teased.

Her smile was small, but it held a kind of fierceness. “Not until I make it.”

“Same here.”

The weight of their dreams hung in the air between them, the invisible wall that had always been there but that they’d learned to accept. There wasn’t any need for explanation, just that shared understanding. They were alike, but separate, and they knew the sacrifices and loneliness that came with chasing something so big.

Years passed like that, each of them watching the other only in passing—Yuki catching glimpses of her in news clips, her routines sharpened with an artistry that almost seemed untouchable, while she’d see photos of him in magazines and on TV, headlines proclaiming his meteoric rise through the ranks of motorsport. Every success felt like a nod to each other, a reminder of the dreams that had been born back in Sagamihara.

One winter, when Yuki was back in Japan for the off-season, he found himself walking through their old neighborhood, a rare moment of quiet for him. Snow had settled on the streets, muffling the sounds of the city and creating that same early-morning hush that he remembered from childhood.

At the ice rink, he spotted her just coming off practice. She noticed him, her eyes widening a bit in surprise, then softening in recognition.

“Yuki,” she said, her voice warm in a way that held their shared history, even if they’d never shared much more than a nod. “You’re here.”

“Just for a bit. Off-season,” he replied, feeling that same familiar ease, as though they’d just picked up an old, comfortable habit.

They didn’t need to say much; that was the thing about two people who’d been chasing dreams their whole lives—they’d run out of words long ago. Instead, they sat side by side on the cold metal bench outside the rink, their breaths visible in the chilly air. For a moment, it felt as if they were kids again, those same two quiet strangers in the early hours of Sagamihara, bound by something unspoken but unmistakable.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Yuki murmured finally, glancing over at her. “How we’ve always been here, but never really…here.”

YN nodded, looking out at the snowy street, her skates resting by her side. “Maybe we’ll always be a little like that. Parallel. Just…passing each other.”

He let out a quiet laugh. “Maybe. But I think I’m okay with that.”

And in that moment, they both knew it was true. They’d never really needed each other to understand. Their connection was there, solid but silent, like the hum of the early morning streets of Sagamihara that had once seen them both grow and rise, side by side.

As Yuki settled into his off-season routine, blissfully unaware, an unexpected storm was brewing on the internet. It began when a fan account posted an old, grainy yearbook photo that seemed to have no apparent significance—just two kids from Sagamihara, tucked into a corner of the page. Yuki Tsunoda, grinning with that familiar spark in his eyes even at a young age, and right beside him, YN, with a shy, focused look that hinted at the grace she’d later bring to the rink.

The photo alone might have gone unnoticed. But within hours, more yearbook photos appeared, retweeted and reshared by fans who’d pieced together the fact that these two seemingly unrelated athletes had shared more than just a hometown.

One especially dedicated fan managed to dig up an old article from a Sagamihara newspaper, “The Rising Stars of Sagamihara,” a feature highlighting young, local talents. In it was a tiny column dedicated to a 10-year-old Yuki Tsunoda, “the lightning-fast karting prodigy,” and a paragraph further down, highlighting YN, “the local ice princess.” The two write-ups were paired with side-by-side photos: Yuki in a helmet, hands on his karting wheel with that mischievous grin, and YN in her skating attire, her posture proud and determined even at such a young age.

Fans started to piece it together: the fact that they’d grown up in the same neighborhood, gone to the same schools, and even shared the same early mornings and late nights, each in their own world yet strangely intertwined. And it wasn’t long before the discovery of an old, archived video from a local TV broadcast surfaced online—a brief segment from years ago that fans began to pass around excitedly.

In the clip, the young, wide-eyed Yuki stood outside his local karting track, excitedly describing his dream of one day becoming a Formula 1 driver. The interviewer had asked him, “What’s the best part of racing?” Yuki had grinned, eyes lighting up in a way that was still familiar to his fans today. “Going fast,” he’d said simply. “And getting better each time. I want to be the fastest in the world.”

The video then cut to the local ice rink, where a young YN was carefully lacing up her skates, so focused on the task that she barely noticed the camera. When the interviewer asked her what drove her to skate, she’d answered with quiet conviction, “I just love it. I want to make it to the Olympics someday. It’s…where I need to be.”

The segment was barely two minutes long, but it captured two kids with dreams that stretched far beyond Sagamihara, two kids who, even back then, had an uncanny sense of direction and drive. Fans, both of Yuki and of the Olympic skating world, couldn’t help but feel like they’d uncovered a rare glimpse into a shared story—two kids from the same neighborhood, their paths woven together by dreams, even if only in the way they passed each other.

Social media blew up with fan theories, speculating on how often their lives must have intersected, how many times they might have passed each other on their way to training. Photos surfaced, sent in by locals who had watched them both grow up in Sagamihara—some just vague, fleeting memories: “I remember seeing them both at the train station on winter mornings!” or “I used to watch Yuki at the track and YN at the rink. They were both so intense, so dedicated, even as kids.”

Yuki had been mostly offline during his break, enjoying a rare stretch of quiet, until one of his friends finally texted him about it. Amused, he clicked through the screenshots and articles, surprised by how far fans had gone to piece together these memories. He hadn’t even remembered half of them himself. One of the photos, an old class trip snapshot, brought a small smile to his face—YN and him standing near each other, neither of them smiling for the camera, both distracted, probably thinking about their next practice.

Meanwhile, YN caught wind of it from one of her friends, who sent her a link with a message: “Look! You’re practically trending!”

She’d laughed at first, scrolling through tweets and posts, memories flashing back like scenes from an old movie: her hurried mornings at the train station, those late-night practice sessions when she’d sometimes catch a glimpse of Yuki heading home from the karting track, their nods and polite hellos. She couldn’t help but feel a little nostalgic—she hadn’t realized how much those quiet moments had mattered to her, how they’d become part of the story of her dream.

One night, not long after, Yuki texted her.

“Have you seen the whole internet making us childhood rivals or something? Lol”

She smirked, fingers tapping quickly to reply.

“Or ‘childhood sweethearts,’ depending on who you ask.”

A few minutes later, her phone buzzed with his reply:

“They’re not totally wrong. Not the rivals part, anyway.”

She chuckled at that, surprised by the warmth the message brought. There was a comfort in knowing that he remembered those early days too, that those moments of passing each other had meant something, even if it had been unspoken.

“Maybe they’ll call us ‘parallel dreamers’ next,” she replied.

And as she lay back on her couch, scrolling through the old photos and shared memories, she realized something: maybe their paths had been parallel, and maybe they’d drifted apart in pursuit of those dreams, but Sagamihara had left its mark on both of them. It was their shared starting line, the place where they’d both learned to dream and to fight, even if their paths had rarely converged.

A few days later, Yuki was in Tokyo for a media event, and on an impulse, he texted her again.

“Coffee? For old times’ sake?”

When they met at a small, tucked-away café in the city, there was an ease between them, as if the years and distance hadn’t changed a thing. They laughed over the fan theories, traded stories about the yearbook photos and old video clips, and shared some of the strange, wonderful feeling of seeing their quiet little corner of Sagamihara suddenly brought to light.

“I always thought you were so intense back then,” Yuki teased, raising an eyebrow. “Every time I saw you, you looked like you were going into battle.”

“Look who’s talking, Mr. Formula 1,” she shot back, rolling her eyes. “I’d see you at the track, looking like you were in some kind of racing trance. You know, you used to scare me a little.”

He laughed, a sound that was so warm and familiar. “Guess we were both a little intense. Guess we still are.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, watching the bustling street outside, each of them thinking back to those early mornings and late nights in Sagamihara, to the unspoken connection that had somehow brought them back together, even in the vastness of their separate worlds.

“Do you ever miss it?” she asked quietly, her gaze softening. “Sagamihara, I mean. Those early days?”

He nodded, his expression wistful. “Sometimes. I think I miss the simplicity of it. The way it felt to just…dream.”

She looked at him, and in that moment, she felt the weight of all those years, of all the mornings and nights they’d shared in passing, two strangers who had never truly been strangers at all.

“Me too,” she said softly. And for the first time, it felt like they weren’t just passing by—they were here, in this moment, together.

The whole thing still felt surreal to YN. Figure skating had always been a quiet pursuit, one that seemed to exist in the background of mainstream attention—until the Winter Olympics came around, when suddenly, the whole world seemed to tune in. But this recent surge of attention felt different. It wasn’t just about her skating career anymore; it was as if her whole childhood was being reexamined through this strange, nostalgic lens. Fans couldn’t seem to get enough of the idea that she and Yuki had spent their earliest years unknowingly sharing the same road.

And, somehow, the more the fans uncovered, the more it actually brought her and Yuki together.

They began to message each other regularly, trading stories from their childhood that they hadn’t even realized they shared. YN would find herself laughing as she read Yuki’s late-night messages, recounting moments she’d almost forgotten—like the time they’d both been late for school on the same day because they’d each missed the early train, or the little neighborhood shop where they’d each spent their allowances on sports magazines and energy drinks, practically standing side-by-side without knowing it.

One evening, YN received a message from Yuki that included an old photo she had completely forgotten about. It was a group photo from a school field day, and there they were, standing a few feet apart in their gym uniforms, each of them looking off in different directions, probably already thinking about the next practice, the next goal. The caption he’d written was simple:

“Look at us, already daydreaming.”

She found herself smiling, typing back:

“I think we were both always somewhere else.”

To her surprise, Yuki replied almost immediately.

“Maybe we were just waiting to catch up.”

Something about that made her pause, her heart giving a small, unexpected flutter. She hadn’t expected this sudden closeness—hadn’t expected to find herself confiding in him so naturally, like they were picking up a conversation they’d started years ago but never quite finished.

Something about that made her pause, her heart giving a small, unexpected flutter. She hadn’t expected this sudden closeness—hadn’t expected to find herself confiding in him so naturally, like they were picking up a conversation they’d started years ago but never quite finished.

The fans, meanwhile, were relentless. More photos and old stories kept surfacing, and every new discovery seemed to send the internet into a frenzy. Some old classmates even came forward with their own memories, adding to the charm of it all. One of the most popular was a story from a girl who remembered how Yuki and YN would always be the first ones out the school gates after the last bell, each headed in different directions, both of them racing the clock to get to their practices on time. “They looked like they were in some kind of secret competition,” the girl had written with a laugh. “They never even knew they were competing.”

The two of them found it all endlessly amusing, and they often texted each other late into the night, reminiscing and teasing each other about the memories fans kept unearthing.

Then one night, YN found herself scrolling through her messages with Yuki, reading back through the familiar exchanges that had slowly become part of her days. She felt a pang of nostalgia, and on a whim, she texted him:

“Hey, do you remember that old café near the train station? The one with the melon soda floats?”

He texted back almost instantly.

“The one where I spilled a whole soda on myself? Yeah, I remember. Want to meet up there?”

The next afternoon, they found themselves back in that cozy, faded café, sitting across from each other with melon soda floats, just like they had years ago. She watched as Yuki took a sip, and they both burst into laughter as he wrinkled his nose, clearly not used to the sweetness anymore.

“Wow, it tastes exactly the same,” he said, putting the glass down with a mock grimace. “How did we drink these all the time?”

YN laughed. “Guess we didn’t know any better.”

They sat there, talking easily about their childhood routines, each one of them filling in gaps in the other’s memories. Yuki told her about the hours he’d spent working on his kart at the local track, about the old man who used to stop by and offer him tips, and she found herself captivated, imagining the younger Yuki she’d only ever seen in glimpses.

She told him about the hours at the rink, practicing spins until her legs shook, the evenings when she’d watch the last of the sunlight filter through the windows and think about what it would feel like to one day skate for an audience that stretched far beyond Sagamihara.

As she talked, Yuki looked at her with a softness she hadn’t quite seen before. “I remember,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with a hint of awe. “I remember seeing you after practice, with your skates hanging over your shoulder. You always looked…so focused, like you were in a world of your own.”

She smiled, feeling a warmth blossom in her chest. “I always thought you looked like you were ready to take on the world.”

They sat there, a comfortable silence settling between them, and for a moment, it felt as if they were back in Sagamihara, just two kids chasing their dreams, both of them trying to make sense of a feeling they hadn’t quite had words for back then.

But this time, it was different. This time, they were here, and the world wasn’t pulling them in opposite directions.

That night, after they’d said their goodbyes and gone their separate ways, YN found herself thinking about Yuki long after she got home. She scrolled through her messages, re-reading the conversations they’d shared over the past few weeks, the memories they’d uncovered together, the fragments of their shared past that had slowly pulled them closer.

And as she lay in bed, her phone buzzed with one last message from him.

“Thanks for today. It was…good to be back. With you.”

She smiled, her heart warm with a quiet happiness she hadn’t quite felt before. She typed a quick reply:

“Good to be back, too. And hey—don’t forget, I beat you to practice every time back then.”

The next morning, as she headed to practice, she found herself smiling as she passed by familiar streets and old buildings. For the first time in a long time, she felt a kind of peace settle over her, a sense that maybe, just maybe, she’d finally found a piece of home in the most unexpected of places.

And perhaps, she thought with a quiet hope, this time their paths wouldn’t just cross—they might actually find themselves walking side by side, together.

At first, it was subtle, almost like a game of hide-and-seek played by two people who didn’t really want to hide. YN’s posts were usually quiet, focused on her routines, her performances, the ice rink early in the morning or late at night when it was empty and calm. But lately, fans had noticed a difference. There were little hints—a second coffee cup on the table, a shadow beside her in the mirror at the rink, a half-smile that seemed directed at someone just out of view.

And then, there was Yuki. His own fans, well-attuned to his habits, noticed he was a little more active online than usual, sharing bits and pieces of his days that were uncharacteristically… soft. He’d always had a down-to-earth presence, but now there was something more thoughtful to it—a kind of quiet happiness that seemed to radiate from even the simplest posts. A casual photo of him at a cafe would have a book next to his coffee, open to some obscure passage about ambition and the journey to reach it. In another post, he was on a quiet Tokyo street at dusk, the caption a single kanji: “帰” (home).

Most fans brushed it off as coincidence—until the first fan sighting happened. It was a quiet Tuesday, and Yuki and YN had snuck away to a tiny ramen shop tucked into one of the side streets of Tokyo, hoping to escape the city’s usual rush. They were deep in conversation, heads bent close together, laughing at some shared joke as they slurped noodles. Neither noticed the two fans a few tables over, both of whom sat in stunned silence, glancing at each other with wide eyes.

Photos surfaced on social media within hours. The fandom went into an instant, thrilled frenzy as fans dissected every detail—the relaxed way they seemed to sit together, the way Yuki had looked at her while she laughed, the unmistakable ease and familiarity that only came with years of shared history. And as more fans pieced together the clues that had been scattered across their social media, the internet’s interest in “the childhood rivals” reignited in a big way.

Some fans were quick to pull out old screenshots, examining the places YN had been posting about recently, pointing out landmarks that seemed to match up with places Yuki had been seen as well. Others dissected old interviews and clips, spotting the subtle changes in their expressions whenever their respective childhoods in Sagamihara were brought up. It was as if, now that fans knew what to look for, the hints were everywhere, woven quietly through both of their lives.

One day, YN’s manager pulled her aside, gently asking if she’d seen the fan reaction. She had, of course, though she’d tried not to look too closely, letting herself stay in the bubble of their quiet, everyday moments. But curiosity got the better of her, and that night, she found herself scrolling through post after post, watching fans piece together their shared past like some kind of romantic detective story.

There was one thread in particular that made her pause, an almost absurdly thorough breakdown of all the times YN and Yuki had likely crossed paths as kids. It included everything from their school schedules to their practice times, even a speculative timeline of when they might have seen each other at the train station.

One of the fans had written, “I think what I love most about this whole thing is that they were just… there, for each other, all those years. Even if they didn’t realize it. It’s like they were connected without ever needing to say anything.”

As she read, she found herself smiling, remembering those long, quiet mornings, those nods exchanged across empty streets. And when her phone buzzed with a new message from Yuki, she almost laughed at the timing.

“Guess they’re onto us, huh?”

She typed back, fingers moving almost without thinking.

“I think they like it. Us. All those years we kept passing each other.”

A few seconds later, his reply appeared.

“It’s kind of nice, actually. I didn’t know it’d mean this much to people.”

“To me, either,” she replied, pausing, feeling the weight of those words. “But I think they see it now—how we’ve been part of each other’s lives, all this time. Even if it was just little things.”

And that was the heart of it, wasn’t it? She’d grown up knowing his silhouette from across the street, his familiar nod, the way he’d look at her with a small, tired smile after a long day, as if they were acknowledging the quiet cost of their dreams. Those small gestures had added up, building something she hadn’t fully realized until now.

A few weeks later, when the off-season was almost over, Yuki suggested they meet at the old track in Sagamihara. She was surprised—after all, they’d both moved on, their worlds much larger than they’d been as kids, but something about the idea felt perfect.

When she arrived, Yuki was already there, leaning against a guardrail with a nostalgic grin on his face. The track was empty, just as it had been in their childhood, and he waved her over, his smile widening as she approached.

“Welcome back,” he said, his voice soft, filled with a quiet happiness she’d grown to recognize.

They walked around the track, sharing stories from their childhood that felt both old and new. Yuki told her about his first time racing there, how he’d stayed up all night the day before, too excited to sleep. She laughed, admitting she’d once done the same thing before her first competition, spending the entire night pacing around her room, practicing jumps she’d already perfected a hundred times.

They ended up sitting side by side in the stands, looking out at the track, lost in memories. After a while, YN spoke up, her voice barely a whisper.

“Do you ever wonder what it would’ve been like if we’d actually been friends back then?”

Yuki tilted his head, considering her question. “Maybe we were, in a way. I mean, we were there for each other, right? Even if we didn’t talk much.”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice thoughtful. “I think we were, too.”

He looked over at her, a gentle warmth in his eyes. “Well, we’ve got all the time in the world to catch up now.”

The simplicity of his words settled over her, filling a space she hadn’t realized was empty. She smiled, reaching out to lightly nudge his shoulder. “Guess we do.”

The fans, of course, noticed the Sagamihara track photo she posted later that night—a wide shot of the track at dusk, golden sunlight pooling over the asphalt. No sign of Yuki in the frame, no hints in her caption, just a simple line: “Sometimes, going back means moving forward.”

But to her, it felt like a quiet declaration—a way of honoring the years they’d spent running toward their dreams, passing each other like strangers on a shared road. And even if the whole world knew about them now, it didn’t change the fact that this was, at its heart, theirs alone: two kids from Sagamihara, two dreams that had always run parallel, finally side by side.

The end of the break came faster than either of them expected, and with it, a quiet sense of loss that lingered as Yuki prepared to leave for Europe. For years, leaving home had been easy, almost routine. But this time, Sagamihara felt different. It was as if his small hometown was charged with a new kind of energy—one that came from having someone there who felt like home in a way he hadn’t fully expected.

But, even though they couldn’t be in the same place, Yuki and YN settled into a rhythm of staying close despite the distance. Texts flew back and forth, little jokes and stories from their days. The hours spent on FaceTime became a kind of ritual, each call bringing with it a familiar warmth and comfort that reminded them both of those shared streets and the quiet dreams of Sagamihara.

One evening, on a call, Yuki mentioned an idea that had been buzzing in his mind for a while.

“You should come to a race,” he said, his voice casual but his eyes bright. “I mean, if you’re interested. It’s not exactly like a skating competition, but… it’s something you’ve got to experience live.”

Her face lit up on the screen. “Are you serious? I mean, I’ve watched some races since we started talking, but I’ve never seen it in person.”

He grinned. “Oh, it’s totally different live. The sound, the atmosphere… it’s like nothing else.” He paused, then added, “Besides, it’d mean we get to see each other again.”

It didn’t take long for her to say yes.

The day of the Grand Prix arrived, and as YN stepped into the bustling paddock, she was hit by a mix of excitement and nerves. She’d seen glimpses of this world through Yuki’s stories and posts, but nothing could have prepared her for the sheer intensity of it—the colors, the noise, the energy crackling through every inch of the place. There was a sense of purpose everywhere, a buzzing energy that felt so different from the serene calm of an ice rink but somehow familiar, too. It was the feeling of athletes chasing something, pouring themselves into every detail, every second, every breath.

And then, there he was. Yuki spotted her from across the paddock, weaving through the crowd with a wide grin, looking more animated than she’d ever seen him. They met with an easy hug, as if no time had passed since they’d last seen each other. She couldn’t help but laugh, taking in his racing suit, his excitement radiating off him in waves.

“It’s even crazier in person,” she said, glancing around, trying to absorb everything at once. “I didn’t know it would be like this.”

He laughed, looking both proud and a little sheepish. “Yeah, it’s… it’s a lot. But you’ll get used to it. I wanted you to see it, though. This is… well, it’s my version of the rink, I guess.”

They walked through the paddock, with Yuki explaining everything from the intense setup behind each car to the team’s relentless preparation. She could see the pride in his eyes, the way he moved around his car with a sense of ownership, a reflection of the countless hours he’d spent on tracks, working toward this dream. And she could feel it—this was where he belonged, where every step and sacrifice from their childhood had led him.

He introduced her to a few members of his team, laughing as they teased him about finally bringing a friend to a race. She watched as he interacted with his team, realizing for the first time just how much responsibility he carried. The boy she remembered from Sagamihara had grown into someone steady and sharp, someone whose determination had molded him into a presence that filled the space around him.

When the race started, she was in awe. The sheer speed, the roar of the engines, the crowd’s cheers—all of it combined into a visceral thrill that went beyond anything she’d ever experienced. She found herself gripping the railing, watching Yuki’s car flash past, feeling every twist and turn like it was happening to her. She hadn’t expected to be so captivated, but here she was, heart pounding as if she were skating a program of her own.

After the race, when things quieted down, Yuki found her in the paddock again. He was exhausted, his face flushed, but his eyes sparkled with the high of it all. She threw her arms around him, feeling a surge of pride she hadn’t expected.

“That was incredible,” she said, still breathless from the excitement. “I didn’t know racing could feel like that.”

He grinned, a little bashful. “It’s different when you’re here, right?”

They spent the rest of the evening wandering through the emptying paddock, the buzz of the race still lingering in the air around them. As they walked, she told him about her own competitions—the nervous energy that would settle over her before she stepped onto the ice, the strange kind of stillness that would take over the rink just before she launched into her first jump.

And for a moment, they were just two kids from Sagamihara again, two dreamers who’d spent their lives working tirelessly toward something that felt bigger than themselves.

She looked over at him, her heart warming at the honesty in his expression. “I get that. I always felt the same way about skating. But I think… I think it makes a difference, knowing someone else understands it.”

They found a quiet spot near the track, sitting on a low wall overlooking the grandstands. The stadium lights cast long shadows over the empty space, and for a while, they just sat there, letting the silence fill the spaces between them. It was a kind of peace they hadn’t realized they’d been looking for.

“You know,” YN said, her voice soft, “when I was younger, I always wondered what it’d be like to actually talk to you. To know you, beyond just passing each other on the way to practice.”

Yuki looked over at her, his gaze steady. “Guess we’re finally getting that chance now.”

They sat in silence again, a comfortable warmth settling between them. And in that moment, with the empty track stretching out before them, they both felt it—the quiet realization that they’d found something here, something that had always been there, waiting for them to finally catch up.

As they sat there, Yuki reached out, a small, tentative movement that spoke volumes. She took his hand without hesitation, their fingers lacing together easily, naturally. It was a small gesture, one that felt both familiar and thrillingly new, like finding home in a place they’d both thought they’d left behind.

And in that quiet, empty paddock, with the echoes of the race still hanging in the air, they found a kind of peace they hadn’t known they were looking for—a sense that, no matter where their paths led, they’d always be able to find each other, side by side.

By now, Yuki and YN were inseparable, no matter how many miles lay between them. It was a connection that felt both effortless and profound, the sort of bond that didn’t need big declarations or elaborate plans to make sense. They’d found something in each other that went beyond their childhood familiarity and beyond the worlds of figure skating and racing—something that was uniquely theirs, a relationship that had grown quietly and steadily, almost as if it had been waiting for them all along.

Anyone who spent time with them could see it. Fans had a field day piecing together every time YN was spotted near a racetrack or every time Yuki happened to be in the audience at one of her competitions. There were moments when fans speculated wildly, building romantic theories out of mere glimpses, but Yuki and YN never fed into it. For them, what they had was too precious to make a spectacle of; this was theirs alone, and they were happy to keep it that way.

Friends and family saw it too, though their reaction was less of a surprise and more of a quiet understanding. For years, everyone who knew them had seen that glimmer of connection, the kind that didn’t fade with distance or time. Their friends laughed about it sometimes, joking that Sagamihara must have woven their destinies together before they even knew it themselves.

Even other drivers, those who saw Yuki at his best and his most vulnerable, couldn’t miss the subtle shift in him. There was a calmness to him now, a steadiness that came from having someone who understood the cost of his world, someone who’d been chasing dreams just as big. In the garage, Yuki would occasionally have a little grin on his face as he read a text, or he’d walk into the paddock with a quiet happiness that his team members hadn’t seen before.

“You’re different these days, you know?” one of the drivers remarked one afternoon, a teasing smile on his face as they sat together after a race. “You’ve got that… settled look. Like someone who finally knows where he’s going.”

Yuki didn’t deny it. Instead, he just shrugged with a slight smile. “Guess I do.”

And then, there were moments when they found themselves together in the same place, and it felt like the whole world disappeared. No matter how loud the roar of the crowd or how many people surrounded them, they had this ability to turn everything else into background noise.

One weekend, after one of Yuki’s races, they found themselves in a quiet corner of the paddock, hidden away from the bustling crowds. They had little moments like these, stolen pockets of time when the rest of the world felt a million miles away. YN leaned against the wall, watching Yuki as he recounted moments from the race, his eyes bright with excitement. She knew she’d never tire of seeing him like this, his passion shining through every word.

“It’s funny,” she said, smiling as he paused to catch his breath. “When we were kids, I’d see you after a long practice, and you’d look just as exhausted but never as happy.”

“Back then, we were both just pushing, you know?” he replied, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. “We were both fighting so hard to get somewhere, to make something of ourselves. I think we both forgot it could be this… good.”

She nodded, understanding completely. There was something different now—a balance, a kind of peace that came from knowing they’d reached the places they’d fought for, and that they had someone to share it with.

He reached out, his fingers finding hers, lacing together in a way that had come to feel so natural. “Do you ever think about how many times we must have passed each other? Back in Sagamihara, at the train station, or even just walking down the street?”

“Yeah,” she replied softly, a smile playing at her lips. “It’s like we were both so focused on our own paths that we didn’t even realize we were following the same one.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, simply enjoying the moment, their hands still intertwined. There was a quiet magic to these moments that no audience could ever see, a depth of understanding that went beyond words. In each other, they’d found a quiet kind of solace, a shared understanding that had blossomed into something more, something as vast and unshakable as the dreams they’d chased all their lives.

When she finally had to return to Tokyo, they shared a hug that lingered a little longer than usual, the unspoken promises between them clear. “I’ll see you soon,” he said, his voice soft but sure.

“Soon,” she echoed, knowing that, wherever they were in the world, they’d always have this unbreakable thread tying them back to each other.

As she walked away, he stood there for a moment, watching her go, a feeling of certainty settling over him. What they had was beyond the limitations of time zones and stadiums. It was something far bigger than Sagamihara, beyond racing circuits and skating rinks. It was something timeless, something that was just theirs, waiting patiently for them all these years.

And as Yuki turned to head back to the track, a quiet smile on his face, he knew that whatever twists and turns lay ahead, he’d always have this piece of home with him—something that had started long ago, on quiet mornings and late nights in Sagamihara, and had grown into something far more beautiful than he’d ever expected.

[lurkingshan]

Well, it's easy to see why this is the episode that got this show yanked down when it was initially released--it's far too explicitly gay for any plausible deniability, and so beautiful as it rips our hearts to shreds.

It's interesting that this episode set up the parallel with Qi Lu and Tan Lin being the ones to confidently pursue what they want, while Qin Xiao and Teacher Liu deny themselves and inflict pain in the process. With Teacher Liu it's easy to see why he would be hesitant to enter a relationship with Tan Lin given the gap in their ages and stations, but he holds responsibility for continuing to spend time with Tan Lin and going far beyond what an adult just trying to help a kid would do. He is giving Tan Lin hope even as he keeps brushing off his confessions.

Speaking of which, Qin Xiao was particularly infuriating in this episode with all the mixed signals and hot and cold behavior. He's been in this flirting dynamic with Qi Lu for awhile now, but he firmly rejected Qi Lu's attempt to openly acknowledge what's between them, even as he still wants to be around him, protect him, and get involved in his life. After witnessing Qi Lu's fear at his father's return, jumping into a closet to hide with him, and then seeing him abused with his own eyes, I could not believe he was still trying to brush off Qi Lu's pointed questions about what he's thinking and feeling. On top of that, he climbed into bed with Qi Lu only to turn around and tell him it's not good for them to be this close. What is going through your head, sir? I can't wait to find out, and I suspect it has something to do with the hard life he's lived, the people he's responsible for, and his limited capacity to imagine he could have something like this.

I'll end by saying that I am so impressed by the bravery both Qi Lu and Tan Lin have displayed in these relationships. Qi Lu boldly making his move (I about died when he put on a famous gay film and went in for the kiss), naming the feelings between them, and pushing Qin Xiao to explain his maddening behavior in this episode was fantastic. And for someone in Tan Lin's vulnerable circumstances, I find his bravery in saying what he feels and asking for what he wants even more moving. Both of them deserve to have that honesty and forthrightness reciprocated, and I hope they get it.

[highfantasy-soul]

Wait wait wait - XD

Mismag episode 7 spoilers

---

[Prefacing this with I'm not angry nor judging anyone at the table - having no idea what their true thoughts on these things are, just pointing out how silly and perhaps purposefully 'missing the point' some of the characters are being played as]

Please tell me the adventuring party was Brennan still doing a bit about not understanding that Tabby was 100% directly mimicking Evan (even though it started out Evan realizing he was looking in a mirror, then idk if everyone just got lost in the sauce and that realization just got buried in the improv yes-anding far away from the starting point)

Brennan just screamed that Evan's vibes are RANCID!

Evan who just gave a whole speech about how he was emotionally crushed (and low-key judgy) about how Jammer said 'family on 6' but his single mom of 3 didn't adopt a troubled 17 year old whom she'd never met. Then feeling icky that a rock they've been traveling with and using for info wants to be a part of the friendship.

How the whole point of him wanting to be a dog was that people didn't get rid of you - they kept you and you didn't need to be explicitly useful for them to still want you. Then Tabby literally said the exact same thing - being afraid they'd leave him behind when they found the wall he was supposed to go in despite how useful he'd been with as much energy as he had with the magic and Evan POINT BLANK REFUSED TO PROMISE IT!! Despite Evan asking the same of his group of friends.

Claiming that Tabby was 'love bombing' them to get them to do what Tabby wanted, but not recognizing Evan does the same - then blames people for abandoning him even though none of them have.

AND THE PARALLELS WITH HOW EVAN TAPES OUT A PLACE FOR EVERYTHING AND TABBY HAS A LITERAL OUTLINE IN A WALL HE'S SUPPOSED TO DIRECTLY FIT INTO AND YET EVAN CLAIMS TO WANT TO BE ABLE TO BREAK OUT OF THAT 'NECESSITY' TO HAVE A PLACE WHERE YOU FIT AND JUST BE ABLE TO EXIST WITHOUT NEEDING TO FIT A SPECIFIC SHAPE/PURPOSE IN THE WORLD

How Evan only sees one way his 'needs' can be met - and that's with the group all living together with their themed rooms and adventuring forever (exactly what Tabby said) and getting really disregulated when the group wants to be in each other's lives in a different way - leading Evan to almost fully cut everyone off because they didn't fit in the small box of 'this is the way they'll show they love me', completely missing all the ways that they, too, get to be their own person and just because Evan isn't stitched to them at the hip doesn't mean they aren't a family.

Tabby is pretty clearly just becoming 'sentient' and he's mimicking what he's seeing around him - namely, Evan's desperate need to belong and be a part of something permanently

I have no idea how much of all that was a bit meant to highlight how Evan just can't clock that comparison (even though at the beginning of Tabby waking up fully he seemed to - and then promptly decided that instead of facing that in himself and extending some compassion and empathy to Tabby, he veered to a hard 'we need to destroy this thing that reminds me of how I behave') or how much was Brennan and Lou just getting lost in the sauce of how to interpret Tabby's every move into something bad, but I'm glad the fems and thems of the table called it out and acknowledged that's what was happening.

I really hope the next episode circles back on Evan's initial realization that Tabby was like looking in the mirror and that's how Evan is to be around and there will be some growth there instead of Evan and Jammer just teaming up to destroy Tabby. K dropped the line about making love sustainable which earned a knowing look from Aabria, so I hope that, since Evan was allowed to have his tirade against K (for good reason) episode 3, K will get to call Evan on his shit too.

I think it was a really smart design to have the motives be so explicit this season and at this point I'm very very interested in seeing how the different characters realize their motive, but also reach the point of understanding what they thought they wanted wasn't actually exactly what they need - Jammer realizing that 'teamwork' might need to be achieved differently from how he's been going about it, he might need to pivot. Evan realizing that 'belonging' doesn't mean everyone is with you all the time and constantly reassuring you they don't hate you, they can live their own lives without that meaning they've ditched you.

Idk, very rambly, but the last episode sparked so many ideas in me about how the characters can face themselves and grow due to the wonderful world, mechanics, and plot Aabria has set up.

[userautumn]

You are always 100% right and valid btw. Because like buck and Tommy are broken up, but you also have several interviews released today where Ryan calls Buck and Eddie “brothers” and where Oliver explicitly says Eddie is straight so they will most likely continue to be just friends. So if it wasn’t for Buddie, what was the point in throwing away a relationship the audience was actually behind??

Yeah, this has always been my problem with the idea of Buck and Tommy breaking up and, now that it's happened, I can finally unload all my thoughts.

Listen, my Buddie mutuals are very assured that Buck and Eddie will get together and have this lush and beautiful arc where they settle into a relationship and feel out the kinks in their dynamic and really blend together, and I respect that. I would love to see that happen. But I don't have that same confidence. Don't get me wrong, I DO think Buck and Eddie will probably get together, I just don't think it's going to happen until the last episode of the last season in a way that's more reminiscent of Johnlock "canon" (for those who did not watch BBC Sherlock: John and Sherlock continued to live together and raise John's daughter, but this was revealed in a montage without ever actually seeing them get together, or confirm that they were in a romantic relationship) than anything.

Why? Well, because it's easier to tease your audience than it is to follow through.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think Tim is teasing the fandom in a malicious way, and—if nothing else—I know he is very aware of what these boys and the implication of their relationship means to people. 9-1-1 has always handled their relationship with a particular gravitas, and I don't see that changing now. But Tim has been writing Buck and Eddie for years. He knows what gets people going, he knows what this fandom likes to see, and what they'll read into. So why would he rush into making them "endgame," especially if he knows he already wants to take them in that direction? He has no incentive to make it happen Right Now because everyone will lap up what he puts out anyway.

And I get it, because I do love Buck and Eddie's relationship. I love the way they interact with each other and, yes, I will lap up any scene between them. But that's the part I find so draining too. I'm going to be honest, I've never liked a "will-they-won't-they" couple. As a personal preference, I've always liked to have a clear vision of a story's trajectory when I go into it. That's how I write, and that's what I gravitate toward in fiction. So the idea of going through any number of love interests until Buck and Eddie are "ready for each other" (so sick of that phrase. sob.) is literally... exhausting to me, and not in a fun way. Because this is a loop that could theoretically continue on, and on, and on, until whenever the powers that be decide enough is enough.

Sure, Eddie is happy and free now. Great. But he still doesn't know he's Queer. What happens when he does realize that? Does he need to date a guy first in order to be "ready" for Buck? Similarly (because their romantic arcs always run parallel to each other), when Buck fucks and sucks his way through Los Angeles, does he stumble upon a hot girl/guy and date her/him until Eddie's "ready" for him? How many times, exactly, am I going to sit through another love interest until they're on the same page after, by my count, three false starts? You know?

I'm obviously along for the ride. Always have been, always will be, and I fought too hard over the summer to maintain my love for these boys and their relationship to let it waste away now. But I desperately, desperately need Tim to give me something substantial that CLEARLY, and EXPLICITLY indicates IMMEDIATE strides toward ROMANTIC Buddie Canon. And I mean crystal clear. Not "building a thousand words of meta off a single line/moment" clear. Not "this look probably definitely means Eddie was thinking about ripping Buck's clothes off" clear. I mean, I want it so damn clear, a sixty-five year old grandpa with cataracts can see it.

Otherwise I'm just going to get really annoyed.

[jackoshadows]

Doesn't this also apply, maybe more, to Daenerys who does know about and engages with some prophecies but ignores it in favor of staying in Meereen dealing with the administration of a city state including but not limited to building irrigation canals, agriculture, trade and taxation, justice, an insurgency, famine and a possible pandemic.

It's interesting with Dany because she connects power and queenship with administration and ruling for the people, as in - 'If I want to be queen then I need to get down and dirty and work for the people'.

Yes, there are parallels here with Daenerys and Jon Snow in terms of their administrative arcs as leaders and Jon's ADwD arc is basically him going around from chapter to chapter engaged in rebuilding the Wall.

However, Jon doesn't really give a shit about the TPTWP because no one is telling him that he's the chosen one with a magical sword. That's Stannis. As readers we know about his parentage and that he may have connections to prophecy - he doesn't.

There's also the difference in religions. Melisandre thinks that swearing oaths in front of the Old Gods is like swearing before a shoe. Jon thinks this whole PTWP/Azor Ahai stuff is Lord of Light business. This difference in thinking is why Stannis/Melisandre don't get Jon as Lord of Winterfell because of preconditions like burning down the Winterfell Godswood and converting to the Lord of Light. Jon would have never done that.

As to your other points:

Like, very explicitly, everything that happens to him drives him to recognise the arbitrariness and incapacity of the cultural-political status quo in westeros. Like, it's not a 'revolution' in any sense, but rejecting radical change is the one thing you don't have the chance or the right to do when winter is coming. Both the most typically-heroic POV characters do this lol

I think it's more that Jon recognizes that he has to work with the cultural-political status quo to get things done.

He is only able to enact reform and change because he is Lord Commander. Imagine if Janos Slynt, Cotter Pyke or the old Denys Mallister won the election? Jon would just have to take orders from the likes of Slynt.

He is trying to integrate the Freefolk into the NW and the North - for example the marriage of Alys Karstark and the Magnar of Thenn. But for this to work he needs the support of some of the great houses of the North - like the Umbers. To get that support he needs to work within the system to try and change in some small way the status quo. The Freefolk would have to become kneelers. I don't think their anarchism would work anytime in the near future.

And as much as he enacts radical change as Lord Commander of the NW, some of it has to do with the support he gets from Stannis Baratheon. And Stannis is the epitome of the cultural-political status quo in terms of the views and opinions he holds.

It's Stannis who starts bringing the Freefolk this side of the Wall and both Jon and Stannis agree on an united realm to take on the threat of the Others.

“And the more we bleed each other, the weaker we shall all be when the real enemy falls upon us.” Jon had come to that same realization.' Your brothers will not like it, no more than your father’s lords, but I mean to allow the wildlings through the Wall … those who will swear me their fealty, pledge to keep the king’s peace and the king’s laws, and take the Lord of Light as their god. Even the giants, if those great knees of theirs can bend. I will settle them on the Gift, once I have wrested it away from your new Lord Commander. When the cold winds rise, we shall live or die together. It is time we made alliance against our common foe.” He looked at Jon. “Would you agree?” [–] “I agree.”

Which is why Jon throws his support behind Stannis as the one true king and advises him on strategy and tactics despite this being him treading close to breaking his NW oaths of neutrality with his deputies like Marsh and Yarwyck not looking kindly on this.

been thinking more abt this and its kind of interesting how despite the structural handicaps (their fortresses are indefensible from the south) the nights watch has way more state capacity than basically any other actor in westeros. they have a professional army (not drawn from feudal obligations), direct administration over holdings, and an extremely centralised command structure. not sure whether this was intentional on grrms part but its interesting to see how they basically fill the gap which the absence of rule from kings landing or winterfell creates during the war of the five kings- obviously, they're still vulnerable to any direct assault by a 'legitimate' (read: feudal) power, but this is in large part due to their retention of westerosi tactics.

This is interesting and I think this can be attributed to the NW being a neutral military command post with the Lord Commander being the top General elected by the people - who come from all over the realm and from different houses. I think the oaths are a big part of this. Neutrality means they stay away from any feuds and conflicts like the WOT5K.

However, I don't think this gives them any kind of advantage because despite having more state capacity, their fortresses are broken down and many of them unusable - leaving them open to an attack from the North. Their army is dwindling in terms of men and lack proper training and as we saw more recently their centralized command structure fell prey to mutiny and assassination after the Lord Commander enacted radical change and broke oaths to go save his little sister.

Their resources were already dwindling when AGoT started with the LC Jeor Mormont requesting Tryion to ask the crown to send more funds. With the WOT5K, civil war and chaos, it only got worse. It's actually shocking how much house Stark abandoned the Night's Watch as an institution in terms of it's upkeep.

The NW would have lost to Mance's host without Stannis Baratheon and his army getting there. Jon would have most probably died, killed by Mance or Janos Slynt. Mance takes the Wall by force. NW is destroyed and the Freefolk reach the Seven Kingdoms - where it's possible the Boltons unite the North against this new enemy.

And then the story would be different.

jon snow in the books is a great character bc he's notionally set up as a Hero of Legend and Prophecy but the minute he gets any institutional power hes like 'right. time to invest in root vegetables and structurally transformative agricultural infrastucture'. doesn't really give a shit about The Prince That Was Promised. the westerosi Numbers Fuckstein albeit also a therian. Just wants to mess with tax quotas and free folk resettlement distributions

[ssruis]

Wrt the people talking about the new set as fan service: my initial reaction was also “oh cute” & moving on, but after carefully reading the full arguments of the people who found it distasteful, I agree with their points. I’d normally link or post screenshots of the points made, but since the Prsk fanbase apparently is jumping people over this on twt I don’t feel comfortable doing that. To summarize and add some of my own explanation:

> everything in gacha games is fan service, which doesn’t have to necessarily mean it’s sexual - ode for the pure of heart featuring rui/touya (popular with female audience) looking very princely was fan service. The white day knight/fantasy theming is fan service (popular & well loved aesthetic). Fantasia squad was fan service for the players who like the male characters, etc etc.

> I don’t feel like arguing about all of the cards, so I’ll just point out what bothers me about the most egregious example (Rin’s card)

When considering art, you have to consider the deliberate choices the artist made, and what messages they are trying to get across with the atmosphere they have created.

Why choose the maid aesthetic? Why make these cards a player pov? Why choose framing that (using the grid composition, contrast and lighting from the window, the way lines direct the eye) makes the points of interest and emphasis Rin’s face *and* butt? Why choose that pose, with Rin looking over her shoulder, with a surprised expression and prominent blush? Why is the posing reminiscent of art of vintage pin up girls (or any other similar art movement)?

It’s male gaze. The answer is male gaze.

The male gaze is often just associated with overt sexualization, but that’s an overly simplified definition. The male gaze can also be portraying women in positions of servitude (most often within the home), emphasizing body curves (even through clothes), voyeuristic povs, emphasizing cuteness/demure-ness/shyness, etc. It’s about the (assumed male) viewer having power over the female subject.

Rin is cleaning, the light from the window heavily highlights her butt, the framing of window itself specifically draws the eye from her head to her back to her butt using contrasting colors/light/point of interest, the parallel lines in the piece direct your eyes down her body (Japanese audience, reading image from right to left). If the emphasis was on the action she is doing, rather than her body, the light source and brightest colors would be on the other side of the image, the duster would be brighter, as would the objects/set pieces she’s interacting with.*

Sexualization/male gaze isn’t restricted to the very obvious “woman sexy posing in a bikini” image, and having that viewpoint will only serve to limit the ways you understand art and artist intention. It’s similar to taking “all art is political” to mean “all art is either republican or democrat” and responding “well that’s stupid and you’re stupid.” You’re missing the point.

I’m a little disappointed the knee jerk reaction here seems to be “you’re wrong and you’re actually a freak who sexualizes minors for pointing this out” here, especially because the point of calling this out is to say that it’s distasteful to do a card like this for a character who is, despite not having a canon age, pretty much portrayed as younger than the main cast (making her 15 or younger).

Nobody is saying “this set sucks you can’t like it if you like it you’re problematic and project sekai should be cancelled forever”, it’s just something to keep in mind. You don’t have to agree with the argument, but acting like anyone pointing this out is insane isn’t fair or justified.

> also just as a side note: maid cafés have a pretty long history of sexualization, with the emphasis/appeal of having power over the workers and them being your servant while dressed cute. I don’t entirely think this set was going for a maid café look, but I do think it’s something to be mindful of.

> *it’s a little hard to articulate/explain this, and my knowledge on how much the average person knows about stuff like this is skewed due to my own education in art/art history/design/etc. If you find this confusing, I’m willing to explain more in detail and specifically point out what I’m talking about.

> I have a different post on the taisho/daisho romance elements, which is an entirely different discussion, so I’m not bringing that up here.

[sentinelally]

Spoilers for 8.06 under the cut but I have a hastily written idea of what should happen, even if it seems likely that it won’t…

Buck is left broken from the breakup, spends weeks doing nothing for himself and dreading his own loneliness. His family at the 118 are concerned at his lack of joy and energy, but not one thing they do snaps Buck out of it.

A couple months pass and Buck decides to finally get back out there, maybe take Tommy’s advice. He has been openly queer for longer, maybe there is something to that advice. Maybe he will be able to connect with them like he used to. Back to Buck 1.0, he thinks. So he matches with a few people, and makes plans to meet up with a really hot guy.

The date goes really well. The guy is interesting. No cleft, but that’s not what he’s looking for. He needs different. Something that isn’t going to remind him of the pilot-shaped hole in his heart. He decides to go back to the guy’s place and see how compatible they are in bed. But as soon as things get hot and heavy with him, Buck realizes he doesn’t want this. He wants something deeper, something that this guy doesn’t have. He doesn’t want this. So he leaves without sleeping with him. Buck 1.0 reversion is a total failure.

His next match is with a girl. She’s gorgeous, dark hair, green eyes. She’s a total catch. Best thing, she’s not a guy. Guys remind him of someone he doesn’t want to think about. The date comes a couple nights later and Buck feels anxious about it. She is super interested in him, but the closer the date gets, the less interested Buck grows. He doesn’t cancel the date and tries to get to know her anyways, tries to feign interest as she talks. He can’t stop thinking about how this parallels Abby’s relationship with That Man, how he’s treating this girl the same way That Man treated Abby. At the end of the night, Buck decides against another date and returns home alone. He cannot bear to put either of them through a relationship that he does not want.

But what does Buck want?

What does he need?

The attraction was there with the man he met a couple nights ago. And it was there tonight when he was with the woman. He isn’t repelled from them. They’re just missing something.

Something like a cleft.

A flight suit.

Henleys.

That amazing cologne that Tommy put on before they go out on a date night.

Tommy.

He wants Tommy.

He needs Tommy.

His phone buzzes. Eddie texting him to come to the hospital. Apologizing for ruining his date. Buck scoffs, thinking there’s not much to ruin at this point.

He rushes to the hospital, expecting something with Bobby, Hen, or Chim. But finds Tommy.

“Why is Buck here, Eddie?”

“Buck has every right to know. Didn’t think you were going to cut him off completely.”

“We broke u-”

Buck isn’t going to let him finish this sentence.

“You broke up with me. This wasn’t mutual. How did this happen anyways?”

“That’s-”

“He fell out of the helicopter while servicing it. Banged his head pretty hard, bruised his neck. Nothing broken, don’t worry.”

Buck is seething. Tommy is not that careless.

“I’m okay, so you can leave, Buck. Eddie can take me home.”

“Enough with calling me Buck. Only my friends call me Buck. And you are not my friend. You never were just my friend. You were so much more. That’s why I wanted you to call me Evan that whole time. That’s why I hate it when you call me Buck!”

Tommy opens his mouth to speak and like hell Buck is letting that happen.

“And one more thing. I love you, Tommy. I didn’t want to say it like this, when I’m begging you to give us another shot. I wanted to say it when we were at home together, watching a movie, or lying in bed together after an amazing night. But it’s how I feel - I love you, and I don’t want anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. I just need you to love me back.”

Tommy looks at Buck, stunned into silence, the fight and belligerence from earlier dissipating rapidly as Buck speaks.

“What brought this on?”

Buck takes Tommy’s hand in his own.

“I came here from a date with a girl. I wanted to like her, but she wasn’t you. Neither was the guy I saw the other night. Couldn’t get out of his place fast enough.”

“You ended a date for me?”

“Well the date was over. I couldn’t even pay much attention. And the guy from the other night? Didn’t even make it to the bedroom. I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

“Why, Evan? I broke your heart…”

“Because, you idiot, I love you. And I thought I was the idiot.”

“Maybe I am an idiot…”

Neither noticed the moment when Eddie left the room, but both men look around for him, only noticing that they are alone, the monotonous beeping of the heart rate monitor adding to the silence in the room while neither man talks.

“Is that an apology or regret I hear?”

“I don’t know. Both? Do I even have a right to ask for forgiveness?”

“Why don’t you try and see? Make an effort like I did for you after you left me not once, but twice?”

Tommy stares intensely at Buck, trying to read if that challenge was playful or-

Is Buck the kind of person to goad him into asking for forgiveness only to deny it?

He has to try. Things haven’t been the same without Buck.

“I won’t leave you again…if you take me back, that is…”

Buck surges forward and kisses Tommy aggressively, stopping only when Tommy winces as his head throbs in pain.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Tommy. Is your head okay? Neck?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just sore. In fact, probably better than I’ve been in the last couple months.”

Eddie wanders back in, finding Buck and Tommy almost cuddling in the hospital bed.

“Fucking finally. You two have made me miserable for two fucking months.”

He snaps a picture and sends it to a group chat. Buck’s phone buzzes, irritating him briefly.

Then Tommy’s phone buzzes.

Buck opens the text and it’s an empty chat history.

A new group text.

One with Tommy in it.

Only texts there being a pic of him and Tommy cuddling, captioned “Fucking finally. You all owe me $20!”

And Buck knows everything is right with the world.

[thewhitewitch-bitch]

In Astris Supra (Chapter 5: Circulus Insutus Fato, Portas Abditas Resera)

Agatha Harkness x F!OC

Read it on AO3

October 1710

There is no amount or combination of words sufficient enough to capture the true horror of war. Even those who avoid the front face of conflict are subject to the cruelty and tragedy that befalls men at arms. There is heartbreak, sorrow, and a pain so immense that it blankets the battlefield and all that surrounds it like a straitjacket, constricting everything until it chokes both sides of the conflict and creates suffering. 

I had not truly known suffering like that. Not even when I left Salem behind in pursuit of a nobler calling, one that would hopefully allow me to one day return to Agatha Harkness and offer her a solution. At the time, I could only assume that she had remained in Salem, carving out her own place in the town and wreaking havoc on those who dared to get in her way. From what I could gather, based on the cries of newsboys from Boston to Philadelphia, the Witch Trials had come to an end, the town nearly destroyed by their own paranoia. It made me wonder just how much influence Agatha had gained in just a few short months, made me try to recall if I could have had the opportunity to see the signs of her inevitable descent into power mongering. 

But I couldn't. No matter how hard I tried, I could not bring myself to think that she had done so willingly. The love that I had for her remained, despite my best efforts to suppress it. At night, I dreamed of the days we spent together, when there was no barrier between us, no coven driving a wedge between her and her potential for good. Those memories would bring on what ifs that were as blissful as the feeling of her touch on my skin. What if we had left Salem before her mother had found us out? What if I had told her of my love for her before it was too late? What if we could have been happy simply being together, with no magic to get in the way?

"Lots on your mind this morning, eh, Ms. Stuart?" 

My thoughts were abruptly cut off by the voice of the man I was traveling with. Looking over at him from the back of my horse, I smiled wistfully and nodded. Dr. Rupert Kingsley was a rather handsome and kind young man, who came straight off the boat from London proper, with wide, dark eyes and light brown hair the shade of molten bronze. Had my interests been aligned with his, I likely would have married him as soon as the opportunity presented itself, but he was well aware that our paths were parallel to each other, never meant to cross but rather to guide each other to the right destination. So, as a talented young physician, with no ward or servant, he accepted me as an unofficial student and permitted me to travel with him as he moved from Boston northward along the coast of the colonies and into the wilds of French-controlled Acadia. 

"There's always a lot on my mind, Dr. Kingsley. Today though, the thoughts are just a tad bit louder than usual." I replied, tightening the grip on my reins. My gaze fell from the doctor to my hands, buried in the black mane of my mare.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Rupert said solemnly, "But I'm afraid you're going to have to silence them. There's no place for loud thoughts on the battlefield. If you want to be a doctor, and I know you do, you have to calm your mind and senses. Leave no room for distractions, they only lead to mistakes, and mistakes lead to death." 

"Of course."

We did not speak again after that, instead allowing the silence to be filled by the beat of our horses' hooves beneath us as we urged them forward to a lively trot and continued on the path northward. It had been a week since we had crossed into Acadia, and with Lieutenant-General Nelson on the move with nearly 2,000 men intent on laying siege to the French at Port Royal, we had little time for dawdling.

The troops were meant to make landfall at their destination any day now, a cohort of doctors and their associates not far behind. From there, it was simply the task of removing the French, an objective that had proven surprisingly difficult for the British forces as of late. But the British were unwilling to cave, which was why Dr. Kingsley thought it the perfect opportunity to 'break me in' to the world of mortal medicine. I was thankful that he remained blissfully unaware of my magic, the late nights spent practicing healing spells on wounded animals or patients that had come into his Boston office seeking extended treatment.

In combination with his medical prowess, I found that my magic was sufficient enough to reduce treatment time by nearly half, even with the most basic of spells. And while my power continued to fluctuate with the phases of the moon, I came to the discovery that at different phases, my spells reacted differently with the wounds and diseases they came into contact with. During a dark moon, I might be able to stop a person's vomiting with a simple digestive potion, but the same potion would have no effect on a patient with the same symptom if the moon was waning or it might make matters worse if administered during the full moon. Trial and error, as crude as it may sound, was the only way I was able to make any headway. The results of said experiments were all jotted down in a small black leather book that was tucked in the belt around my waist, a protective rune hidden just under the cover, making it impossible for anyone but myself to read its contents. 

Kingsley thought nothing of it, mostly because he didn't know that I had anything to do with sudden improvement or worsening of conditions amongst his patients. I intended to keep it that way for as long as I could, or at the very least until the end of this war that Queen Anne was so insistent upon waging. 

We trotted onward, surrounded on either side by pine trees and fog, dense and chilling in the early autumn air. The sun was hidden behind a heavy layer of gray clouds, the smell of petrichor hung over us warning of the impending autumnal rains that were sure to hit the shore at any time. The encampment for doctors and their associates was just past the bend in the road ahead, supposedly nestled amongst the pines beside the sheer cliffs of the Acadian shoreline. The not-so-distant sound of crashing waves roared and receded in its powerful, natural rhythm as we trotted on.

As we moved to the right of the road to take the bend, I felt a sudden presence, ancient and dark, reaching out to me from within the darkness beneath the trees. I tugged on the reins, bringing my mount to a halt as I scanned my surroundings. Under my breath, I muttered, "Mater divina me defendat hodie." 

A seductive chuckle echoed in my ear, though I couldn't tell what direction it came from. My head began to swivel back and forth, trying to find the source, only stopping when I came face-to-face with a woman dressed in hues of black and green. The cloak she wore seemed to fade into wisps of smoke as she stood not but five feet from me, a crown that appeared to crafted from fossilized thorns and obsidian resting atop the hood she wore. She had an entertained half-smirk upon her darkly painted lips, her eyes deep brown as the earth as they met my hazel gaze. 

"Prayers aren't going to get you anywhere, princess. Not here, at least." she said with a bit of a laugh. My horse snorted and began to spook, shuffling away from the woman with a frightened snort. Not wanting to agitate her further, I slid from her back and let my boots land softly on the grass, keeping the reins in one hand as I tilted my head at the woman before me. 

"You seem... familiar to me, and yet I know I've never seen you before in my life." 

"I get that a lot." 

There was a change of the light for only a moment, but in that brief time, I saw that the attractive face of the woman in front of me had changed. The lower half of her skull was exposed, no sinew or flesh to cover it, no blood or muscle to keep it living and the exposure spread down to her throat, where her esophagus sat nestled between two walls of cartilage. Just as quickly as the change appeared, it reverted back, and recognition hit me like a wall of stone. 

"Lady Death." I whispered. 

She smirked again, "In the flesh." 

I should have been terrified, scared to... well, death. But there was something about her that told me there was no need for fear. She wasn't here for me. So why was she standing in front me now?

"Why reveal yourself to me?"

She shrugged and began to circle me and my horse slowly, "There's something about you... you're important. And as much as I hate having Lunar witches walking around, you need to stick around for a while."

"That’s not an answer."

"Are you sure?"

I glared at her. She continued to smile back. When I wouldn’t relent, her grin dropped and she rolled her eyes. 

"You do know that most Lunar witches don’t live longer than a century, right?"

"I’m aware I’m on a doomed path.” I replied, trying to mask the slight tremble of my voice with a sharp edge, “A Lunar witch comes around maybe once every three hundred years. They never live long enough to teach the next one. Though I know you’re well aware of that."

"And yet, here I am, telling you that you’re the odd woman out."

"Why? What do you have to gain from my survival?"

Death scoffed at me, as if the whole concept of existence was amusing to her, "Nothing, actually. I'll lose more than I gain with you in the picture. But greater forces in this universe seem insistent on keeping you alive, so alive you’ll stay for now. But I must say, I'm looking forward to checking in on you over the next few centuries." 

I paled, there was no way to hide it, "What do mean?" 

"You're going into war, Aislin!" she exclaimed, as if it weren't obvious, "My favorite stomping grounds! We'll be seeing a lot of each other, I wager. Though I'm sure you'll be sick of me soon enough." 

She stopped her circling and looked to me full on, the intensity of her earthy eyes feeling as though they could bury me beneath the soil with just a hard enough glance. The around me seemed to shift, the petrichor smell growing steadily stronger. With a final smile, she offered me a sultry wave and said, "Te veo." 

And suddenly, I was alone in the clearing.

--------------------------------------------------

The doctors that had been summoned to serve did not take kindly to women in their presence. Of course, they had to tolerate the caretakers who sacrificed their white linens to the spatters of blood and fragments of flesh, but to have a woman stand among them as a student of the art, was far less palatable. After all, women had no place amongst the respectable ranks of surgeons and physicians, nor did the Iroquois healers who offered their services as their own warriors joined the British forces gathering on the coast, though given the choice, I'd have taken care from the Cayuga over Charles Cromwell any day. 

Kingsley found me as I led my horse on foot through camp aimlessly with my saddle pack and bedroll tucked under my free arm. He had taken no notice of my sudden absence, nor had he been subject to a surprise meeting with Death herself, but simply kept on riding to camp, claiming his large-framed tent and a much smaller one beside it. 

"Ah, did you get lost, Miss Stuart?" he asked me with a charming grin, "Or were you simply taking in the scenery?" 

"A bit of both I suppose." I answered honestly. I took my horse to the hitching post and tied her there, allowing her access to the trough and a bale of fresh hay before turning back to the young doctor. "Have I missed anything?" 

He shook his head, "Nothing at all. Lieutenant-General Nelson won't make landfall 'til midday on the 'morrow, at which time we'll board a smaller vessel and cross the channel to wait for incoming wounded and dead. I should warn you though, this siege may take weeks, months even. You still have time to return to Boston-"

I held up a hand to silence him, sending a sharp glare his way, "As much as I respect your offer, Rupert, I simply must decline. Despite the maliciously loud whispers I've heard about this camp already, I am most certainly needed here, so here I will stay. I do not shy away from the sword when it is flashed in my face." 

Kingsley's grin softened in understanding, a small nod rocked his head back and forth, "Spoken like a true fellow of medical academia, Miss Stuart. I suggest you take the evening to study, and if you're so inclined, I'd write to your family. Simply because we bear the caduceus, it does not mean we are immune from cannon and gun fire. You'll find all you need for the night in your tent."

Overhead, the skies finally broke, the satisfying drip of rainfall pattering against the trees and the waxed canvas tents. A few of the horses snorted in discontent but continued to eat away at the hay in front of them. As the heavy drops landed on our shoulders and heads, chilling us to the bone, we gave each other a silent farewell and retreated beneath the cover of our tents for the night. While I had no doubt that Kingsley's tent boasted all the necessary equipment he would need for operations and examinations, not to mention cigars and cheap liquor to numb his mind to the horrors incoming, mine was much reserved, containing only a camp bed with several woolen blankets, a pair of white cover aprons, and a small bedside table with a pair of lit candles.

Rupert must have placed the small stack of parchment on the table, along with an inkwell and quill. There was no way the other doctors would have extended such kindness to me, not when they didn't even want me there. Heaving a loud sigh, I dropped my bedroll and saddle pack onto the ground at my feet. I slumped onto the camp bed and let my head fall into my hands, my interaction with Death replaying over and over again in my mind.

She had told me that I was important, though at the moment, I couldn't possibly see how. And the way she had looked at me, as though I were a fresh piece of bloodied meat and she was a ravenous wolf... it was unsettling, though I suppose she always intended to be. 

"Oh, Divine Mother, what have you gotten me into?" I whispered, so softly that even I could barely hear myself. I dropped my hands and let my eyes wander back to the parchment on the small wooden table. I don't know how long I sat there staring at it, but by the time I had come to the conclusion to write, the gentle shower outside had increased to a torrential downpour, the weight of the water pounding against the roof of the tent as I dipped the quill into the murky black ink. As I took hold of the topmost sheet, I paused, wondering if sending a letter would make any difference. But then I thought of her, and the doubt melted away. I put the quill to the parchment and began to write in my most elegant script. 

Darling Agatha,

I hope that this letter finds you in suitable spirits after we departed on such egregious terms. Not that I fear for your well-being; I know you are certainly capable of taking care of yourself. I write to inform you that I have undertaken a task most unbecoming for women of our talents and station, serving as the student and assistant of one Doctor Rupert Kingsley of Boston. We, in response to the request made by the British Crown, have joined a cohort of other physicians and surgeons at a posting in Acadia, not thirty miles from the French stronghold of Port Royal, and are awaiting the order to cross the channel to provide medical assistance during the attempted siege of the fort. 

Having not heard from you in well over a decade, I am certain that you did not intend to seek me out again, and in truth, I was hesitant to write. But I am told that we, like the soldiers who will march onto the shore, will be subject to the shock and awe of war, and at the risk of walking into the next world without having settled the grievances between us, I found the courage to pen this letter. 

You may no long care for me, you may no longer wish to think of me, but I think of you often. And I shall be thinking of you on the 'morrow, when cannons roar overhead and the blood of dying men coats my hands. I shall be thinking of the days we spent in the peaceful solitude of the forest, relishing in the quiet hours that we spent together. I shall be thinking of you not as someone I once knew, but as someone I know and care for. For a witch should never abandon her coven and I, in my own anger and fear, have abandoned you.

It is my hope that upon my, with any luck inevitable, survival, that we may cross paths again, and I will once again be able to relish in peace with you as we once did. Until then, I shall think of you, darling, and hope that you think of me. 

With all my love, 

Aislin Stuart

I set the quill down and folded the parchment carefully once the ink had dried. Muttering a simple sending incantation, I lifted the letter to the candle on the left and let one corner light, before repeating the gesture with the candle on the right. I gripped the parchment tight between my fingers as the flames inched closer to my hand until I could no longer hold it. As I released my grip, I whispered, "Agatha Harkness." 

The ashes scattered in an invisible wind, drifting beneath the canvas walls of the tent and carrying my message to wherever she was. I lay back on my bed, and started at the roof in the eerie quiet, only drifting off to sleep when thunder finally began to roll in.  

[anomaliex]

I love you 14 strength Adaine. I love you so much.

I guess +2 doesn't feel super crazy, but 10 is average person stats anything that diverges from that is notable in some way, realistically speaking. Also going from negative strength to that spontaneously is pretty insane. Is she buff??😭. That or like magically strong. I think either is cool? Considering how her strength score shot up I think it's fun to think of it as like, magic flowing through her and drastically increasing her physical strength whenever she does something strenuous (or just punches people).

I'd also imagine that not many of her fellow wizard students have strength that is worth much of anything. If there's one dump stat for full casters (except for clerics) its gotta be strength right?? Maybe there's multiclassers with decent strength, (I'd imagine artificer or cleric would be common if we assume people in universe have the awareness to try to optimise? They did say Gorgug's is odd) maybe some guy just has really good stats overall. Or an odd wizard build. But all in all I think Adaine is probably one of the only strong wizards at school, which is funny to me.

She isn't drawn to have like, too much muscle. She has that typical elven elegant whatever caster silhouette. So that's extra funny to me, she's so very silly.

I was gonna bring up Oisin, then I remembered he "got buff over summer" (or smth like that). I wonder if that reflects in his stats or is more him having a dragon appropriate growth spurt and filling out more without getting much stronger? Either way, funny. Was that an intentional parallel to Adaine suddenly getting strong? Interesting to think about, I guess. I just wanted to say that I like the idea of him having genuinely had a crush on Adaine but. Y'know. And after his resurrection he tries to approach her and she's like cool. I'll consider forgiving you and being your friend only if I get to punch you. "What?" Punched. Wow what a strong wizard.

[kyoteugly]

If not Buddie, why Buddie shaped? #2

Following my theory that season 7 and 8 are new seasons 1 and 2 on abc, where the writers revisits the big events from character’s pasts and retells them (you can read it here) I want to look closer at new episode 8x06 “Confessions”.

This is all fresh in my mind, I watched the episode like 4h ago, there is a chance I’ll miss something.

Like I said, I think we’re going to see at least 4 more big moments revisited (or rather the emotional state those events invoked) from previous seasons before Buddie goes canon. Kitchen scene, well, will and shooting arc. And one of those happened in this episode! But also so many other things! 

EDDIE:

Starting with Eddie in the confessional. I can’t help but see his fight club era here (call me bias, I love season 3 Eddie so much!). An attempt to find a healthy outlet to his emotions. He’s struggling and fighting with his inner demons, this time instead of rage it’s sadness and loneliness. 

And he is doing it with an outsider's help. Father Brian is like Lena Bosko. Why Lena and not Frank? I think Eddie would just shut on therapy at this point. He needs someone to talk to, someone with opinions and advice, caring enough to want to help but also not afraid to go straight to the point and call his bs - Lena and Father Brian did just that.

Ok. Time to revisit a big event from Eddie’s past - the well. ABC put the call with the little boy trapped in a pipe in episode promo as the red herring. The real purpose of this call was to remind us about the Eddie Begins episode. The important thing from Eddie Begins is that Eddie was alone in the dark pit - and in the end he saved himself. 

So the real connection between those two episodes is not in the call where 118 saves the little boy, but between Eddie coming out from underwater, drawing a deep breath and Eddie shaving a mustache, shedding his mask and dancing, breathing fully again.

sorry for the meme, I'm tired

It’s also interesting that the moment Eddie allowed himself to feel joy Buck knocked at his door.

BUCK:

This one is pretty straight forward. Like I said before, Tommy represents Abby - a transformative relationship - like Buck said himself. The fact that Tommy was engaged with Abby is a really beautiful way to further connect and close both relationships. What leads to the break up from Tommy’s side is also similar. Tommy knows he would fall deeply for Buck, and Abby didn’t come back because she knew she would lose herself in Buck. They were both protecting themselves.

And here is also a little parallel to Ali. Like her, Tommy offers Buck a proper and honest break up, showing maturity, understanding and clear reason why. And yes, Ali was also protecting herself, ending their relationship before they broke each other's hearts.

And one more thing from Buck’s side. The whole Abby thing throws him off. Maddie tells him it’s not a big thing, Josh tells him not to judge Tommy (honestly, Josh’s speech is amazing!) - this calms him down in the end, dating the same woman doesn’t feel awkward anymore. But the questions Josh is asking leave Buck confused. Taking the next step, moving in together - it’s like Buck is trying to prove he really feels those things Josh was talking about (or maybe even compensate for his “freak out”, confirm he’s fully into this relationship). And on some level Buck has those feelings, he cares about Tommy, but more than that, he simply feels he should be on the level Josh suggested and he wants this to work. It’s Buck’s impulsiveness coming to play, an action that causes reaction in a form of big gesture to confirm his feelings - a nod to his relationship with Taylor.

Fortunately Tommy explains those feelings to Buck (and to the audience) in a very kind way. 

Honestly, their relationship (the last two episodes especially) was handled beautifully, without unnecessary drama, without too much spotlight. It started with fireworks, naturally progressed and faded gently.

The cherry on top: Evan meant something more, something special for Tommy. Ending his goodbye with Buck means “we’re friends now”.

BUDDIE:

There are two things here I want to mention.

Ever since Gerrard separated Buck and Eddie this is the episode where we can see them working together as partners again. And this finally wraps up the divorce era.

The ending scene represents different scenes for each of them, ending different arcs.

For Buck the couch scene represents Abby’s comeback in season 3. He watched her ride off in the ambulance with her fiance (with Eddie solid by his side), and later he got closure from her.

For Eddie this scene represents him being embraced by the 118 after he dug himself out from the well. He’s connected again, no longer alone. 

And of course, the most obvious and sweetest thing - it’s the right couch (and they finally drink that beer).

Bonus MADNEY:

Couldn’t help but notice some revisits here.  Maddie’s postpartum depression is addressed very clearly, nothing to add here. During the pandemic Chimney stayed at Buck’s place, afraid to put pregnant Maddie in danger of catching the virus. Something happened on a call that changed his mind, made him overcome his fear and enjoy the future with his family. The same in this episode. But there is a little twist here and it involves brothers. In season 7 the new audience learned about Kevin. Guess who wasn’t yet introduced (and also took care of Maddie during the pandemic)... yes, I believe this season we will see Albert again. 

That’s it for now. Let me know if you want more posts like this. Feel free to contact me if you want some clarification or just to talk.

Tagging some people who may be interested (if you want me to remove you from this post let me know): @buddiebeginz @stagefoureddiediaz @lemotmo @inell

[fandomcritical]

i mentioned it before in a recent (re)post, but my personal opinion is that i do not understand why critics get so upset about "parallels" or "copied plot points", whichever you wish to call them (although usually there's a difference).

this screenshot is not meant to imply anything negative about op or the anon!

of course, i am very aware that too much obvious repetition can straight-up become bad writing and disengage the audience, especially if done wrong, and i don't have anything to say about this specific example one way or the other except that i don't think it's a terribly big deal ─ as in, i think there are far worse traits in this show to care about, but maybe that's just me.

i'm anti-vivziepop so knowing how she is, i do agree that this is probably lazy and i think there might be wasted potential in what could have been something original. that being said, i didn't mind the end result. i actually found this post about it to be interesting.

i dunno, i just... don't care about this, but i'm interested in reading other perspectives about why this is so bad? perhaps i'm missing something important about critiquing professional writing, and if so then i apologize.