#beyond I guess wanting to see who might be interested?

[badpanduhmemes]

So the fourth movie, re-invigorated my creative juices, and I am actively writing KFP fanfiction again. I'm not sure if anyone would be interested in it, but I'm doing it. I posted a few drabbles here in the past, but these are going to be much longer multi-chapter fics when all is said and done.

[luveline]

I NEEEEEED MORE STRIPPER!READER X SPENCER

fem, 1.2k

You and Spencer aren't dating, but he thinks you might be in the before. 

"You're home!" you say, clambering at the door to slip out of your shoes. You throw yourself at him as soon as you're close enough, the salted caramel and sandalwood of your new perfume washing over him. "You're here! I missed you." 

Spencer tries not to blush. He wishes you weren't so close —his hair is lank from two days unwashed, his five o'clock shadow obvious and embarrassing. If you notice anything unappealing about him you don't give the slightest inclination, your arms crossing over his back as you drive your face into his neck. 

"I can't believe how much I missed you, Dr. Reid," you say warmly. 

"I missed you too." Morgan would laugh at him for being this earnest, maybe comment on his lack of charisma, but Spencer doesn't know how else to show that he's interested beyond sincerity. 

You step back but work your hands up his neck and into his hair, raking it away from his cheeks. "That's better. I can see you better now." 

Spencer thought he remembered only horrible things from being a teenager, but he remembers this feeling, sweaty-palmed, heart-racing want. You tilt his head gently one way and then the other like you're following the motion of a wave, fingertips scratching in his hair, the sensation stirring the very pit of his stomach. No trace of tiredness remains on your face, only spritely joy to see him. 

"That feels nice," he confesses. He's not weird about it, more friendly. 

Your aswering grin tells him he nailed the casualness he was aiming for. 

"You've been working hard," you say, tucking his hair behind his ears and dusting down his shoulders, "I can tell. You look tired." 

"You don't. Short shift?" 

"Is it weird that bad weather genuinely keeps people home? I guess they prefer their wives when it's cold." 

"No, really? Who could ever pick the woman they married over you and those silver shorts?" he teases, peeling out of his sweater.

The shirt underneath is rumpled, but he doesn't care about that. Anything to be seen between you has been seen. Spencer has, unquestionably, seen you half naked. You've seen him in his boxers, so you're just about square. "Idiots, all of them." 

You're staying with him again while a security company fits your apartment with the appropriate trappings. Or, that was the initial reason. Spencer went with you to assess after it was done, discovering black mould in the corner of your bedroom and spreading its evil way across the bathroom ceiling. 

What is that? he asked, knowing what it was, hoping you'd at least pretend to be concerned. 

That's fifty bucks off a month, Spence. Don't look so horrified. 

"I missed you," you say for the third time in as many minutes. "And I hoped you'd be home, so I brought Chinese food for two."

You and Spencer change into pyjamas, and it's cliche but whatever, you look beautiful undone —he's not stupid enough to lie to himself about how he feels when you're wearing your little outfits, but he prefers this side of you a thousand times over because you like it better. You wear your prized baseball tee, white with blue sleeves, and a pair of sweatpants pushed up high on one leg while you ice your sore knee. He sits cross legged opposite, jabbing his chopsticks into one of your crispy spring rolls just to watch you gasp. 

"Can I ask you something too personal?" 

You rub down the length of your naked calf, sighing as some of the tension releases. You're more bruise than girl lately, splodges of tender skin patterning the inside. "What don't you know about me, at this point?" you ask. 

Like it's a good thing. Like you're glad for it. 

"Are you making enough money?" he asks. 

You steal back your spring roll, answering him through rice paper and greens, "Kind of. Not tonight, but enough for dinner. I'll be okay." 

"Did you think about it?" 

You shovel through your waxy box of rice, shrugging. "I thought about it, but… it's not realistic. What office would take me? What drug store?" 

"I could loan you the money while you apprentice, and get some experience, you could go back to school–" He says it all in a rush and you still knock him down. 

"It's real sweet of you, Spence, it is, but I couldn't let you do that. That makes me your charity case, and not your friend." 

"What else do you do for the people you care about?" he asks. Let them stay at a job they don't like, even if they're good at it, one that puts them statistically at higher risk for femicide or assault? 

"I wouldn't need a loan, Spencer, I'd need more than you have," you say gently. "I'd have to start my life from scratch. How would I pay rent? You couldn't afford to keep us both." 

"You could stay with me again." 

You shake your head. "You're the best friend I've ever had, which is why I'm saying no." 

He doesn't get what you mean, but you finish your dinner and help him clean up. He more than trusts you to stay here alone while he's on a case, you've honestly left it in better condition than you found it, and he insists you sleep in his bed again while you're here. 

"Don't be silly," you say, throwing a sheet out over the couch. "This is your place. You need to sleep in your own bed." 

The disaster is that it smells like you. Spencer says goodnight to you reluctantly and leaves you on the couch with every throw blanket he owns, climbing into his own bed and pulling the comforter up to his nose. He imagines you here at night, your body wash still clinging to your skin from a late night shower, your hand tucked under his pillow. There are so many things he'd like to give you, if you'd just let him. 

He spends a quiet thirty minutes like that, missing the warmth of your skin and your casual touching, wishing he could offer you the fresh start you desire, even if it meant he wasn't involved. 

The couch springs creak as you toss and turn, the sound finding it's way down the short hall from the living room slash kitchen to his bedroom. Hesitant, Spencer shifts in bed, hitting that one coil in his mattress just right, the twang resounding.  

You appear in his doorway with your borrowed pillows crushed to your chest not long after that. You don't need to ask, Spencer doesn't need to answer. He can't give you everything that you want, but he can give you a quiet, comfortable night next to someone who loves you. 

Ever well-tempered, you slip into the sheets beside him and curl up toward him, your fingertips brushing his side. You don't look at him in the dark, but you mumble sleepily, fingers twitching, "Night, Spence." 

You're out like a light. 

[areyouwho-ithinkyouare]

people who haven’t played baldur’s gate 3 in it’s early access but who PLAN to buy it at release i really cannot express how much more interesting the story is (at least in the 1st act that we’ve had in EA) if you play a non-good character. You don’t have to be fully evil but there is so much extra content you dont see if you just go in,kill the villains, save the good guys.

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

Can you do headcanons for a young child reader who constantly follows jax around, loves physical affection, and thinks jax is their 'dad'?

(Obviously this request is plantonic, not romantic!)

I think I might've went a little overboard with this one! Way longer than most of my posts but I guess that isn't really a bad thing ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Jax unwillingly becomeing a parent

★ His first and only question was how the hell did a four year old get in this situation. The headset should have been way out of reach for you. Questions that will never be answered, I guess.

★ After making you cry the first time he spoke to you he tried to steer clear of you. That worked out horribly because you seemed to want to always be near him. Much to everyone's confusion.

★ "oh my! Looks like the little one has taken an interest in you!" Was Cain's response to seeing you huddled up near Jax. At some point he gets a child harness to keep you in his line of sight. It's just easier this way.

★ By the way he didn't mean to make you cry, he just didn't know how young you were and said something he would've said to an adult. Kids cry easily, what are you gonna do?

★ Jax stole a few pillows from Kinger for you to sleep with. Yes, you don't technically need to sleep but he's not going to tell you that. Nap time is one of the only times he can get a moment to himself.

★ He gets beyond pissed when you get woken up during nap time. To the point where he's barely keeping it together and wants to beat whoever woke you up with a chair leg.

★ If you want to be picked up, then he's picking you up. It doesn't matter if he's talking to somebody or doing something. You'll get picked up while he's doing something and without missing a beat he'll continue like nothing happened.

★ Instead of giving you the usual Jax treatment, he just tells you the most outlandish lies while trying to convince you that they are true. Sometimes he tells you something that sounds so true you don't question his bullshit.

There's a list of things he's told you!

If you push down on Ragatha's nose it will make a honking noise.

There's a secret room hidden in a closet filled with veggies for people who are allergic to meat.

Birds aren't real.

When he was your age, he was a year older. (It took you a moment to figure that one out)

Caine is the tooth fairy.

★ Jax isn't known for his empathy, but he does feel conflicted when you talk about small details from your life before meeting him. What color your house was, the lullabies your mother sang and the books you used to be read. It all makes him think.

★ You're family might be looking for you, not knowing where you are and that you're trapped. Do you even realize this? They probably think you're dead, that something terrible happened to you. Those thoughts make his stomach sink.

★ If he cares about you this much he can only imagine the grief your family feels. You will forever be a blissfully ignorant child not knowing the truth of what's really going on.

[misstycloud]

Platonic. Fae father

Fae father! Who loves you more than anything. He’d trade his immortality and beauty a million times if it meant saving you. It’s worth nothing if he can’t be with you.

Fae father! Who originally wasn’t very interested in you but simply didn’t have the heart to throw you to the wolves like he would if it’d been any other baby- you were his, after all. But as time passed, he found himself more enamoured with you for every second you spent together. Before he knew it, you were an irreplaceable part of his life. He can’t imagine how he managed to live for centuries without you.

Fae father! Who is very protective and while he knows you’re safer inside his territory than you’d ever be anywhere else, there’s still a possibility something could happen you you. He can’t have that happen! What if you accidentally trip on a root and scrape your knee? Sure he can heal you with his magic, but he’d rather spare you the unnecessary pain and tears.

Fae father! Is scared that you’ll leave him eventually. This is especially regarding when you’ll have grown up. He never hid your half-human side(you were bound to find out anyway, considering you didn’t have magic in the same sense as him, and your ears were slightly rounded unlike his purely pointed ones), but he’s beginning to think it was a mistake. His attempt at good parenting could backfire and you would become naturally curious as you got older. Then you would request to leave the safety and familiarity of the forest you grew up in, to go adventure beyond it and come into contact with your human side.

Fae father! Who thought about how horrible that would be. He knew the cruelty of humans. They were greedy beyond imagination and an ugly stain on the world; truly a mistake of creation. He thought about what they could potentially do to you, a wonderful, kind yet naive child. His child. You were part fae and that was obvious- if he had to be honest, he had always been happy you appeared more fae than human, it made him feel more connected to you- the price that you would go for on a market was immense. Fae father nearly faints at what kind of filth could be wanting to get their hands on you.

Fae father! Who wove to protect you at all costs- even lying and misleading you. The only way he saw to do that is to keep you in the forest; your childhood home and his domain.

“Father, what’s beyond the forest? Are there really human towns? The animals tell me they are bustling with life- and there’s so many strange and new things!” You asked your father. You two were in your favourite meadow, you sat up in the lush grass, making a flower crown.

Your father had laid down a while ago and was content with the relaxation the summer weather brought. However, the moment you began talking about humans and your curiosity for the outside world, his eyes snapped open and he, too, sat up.

He gave you a soft smile, “The animals told you that?”

You nodded vigorously. He reminded himself to warn the animals to not tell you about such things, afterwards. If he had to guess, it was most likely that damn squirrel friend of yours that didn’t know when to shut up.

“Well, dear-“ he said, finding the way you were hooked on every word incredibly endearing, “yes, there there are human settlements outside these woods. But I do not want you going anywhere near them, you hear? It’s simply not safe for you.” Your father ended the sentence with booping you on the nose.

“What? What do you mean?” You exclaimed.

He chuckled, “I am older- I have many tricks to defend myself with; you do not.”

Pouting, you crossed your arms and said in defiance, “Why would you have to defend yourself? You’re not fighting, are you?”

You father ran his hand through his long locks with a sigh. “Dear, I am afraid that might not be the case.” You looked at him in confusion. “You see, we- as in magical kind- have not been on good terms with mannkind for centuries- maybe even ever.”

You were silent, pondering over what this meant as your protector watched. Had it not been a serious subject, he would have thought about how cute you look whenever you are thoroughly grumbling over something. He took it upon himself to expand his reasonings while combing through your hair.

“We are rare, beautiful, immortal and have powers they could only dream of.” To prove his point, your father held out a seed in the palm of his hand. He closed it for a second and a green light flashed. Opening his palm again, the little seed quickly grew into a wonderful, fully grown flower in a matter of moments. “See, if they had the means to do this, then a new war would break loose every day. They are greedy and selfish and struggle because of it, while we live away from such mundane troubles.”

“But what about all those amazing things they have invented? I hear they sing and dance just like us. They have families too, just like us. They can’t all be bad!” You protested. If all those things your friends had told you were true, then you needed to know and find a way to see them for yourself.

Your father sighed once more. He appeared to be doing that a lot during your conversation. He grabbed a hold of your hand and squeezed it tight. “I understand your curiosity regarding humans- trust me, I do. I was young once upon a time, as well. You believe that I did not sneak away to peek at the towns myself?”

“You have gone there yourself?”

He nodded to confirm your question. “However, they are far from what your little friends have been tricking you into believing. They are not fun and do not sing nor dance. Like I said, they are selfish and horrible, you best stay away from them.”

“But-“ you tried.

He cut you off immediately. “-No ‘buts’. You stay away from the town, alright? Simply stay here where you’re safe. I won’t tolerate any violation of the rules when it comes to this.” He took notice of your gloomy expression and added, “It’s for your safety, nothing else. Oh, sweetie, I do wish the world was different. However, this is a truth we must face. You do understand, correct?”

Seeing your worrying father’s serious demeanor as he urged you for an answer, you looked down before saying, “Yes, Father. I won’t go into human towns. I’ll stay out of trouble.”

He sighed in relief. “Good child. Remember, I am only looking after you. I’m your father, I know what’s best for you.

[0nerd-at-heart0]

The Stress of a Case

Harvey Specter x Female Reader

Please Read: Hello! It's been a hot minute since I have published anything. Have been currently studying for my LSATS and have been a busy bee but after being obsessed with Suits for the past 2 years and waiting for more Harvey stories to be published I decided to create my own little storyline. What started off as a storyline in my head is now on paper. I have this idea to create a mini-story/universe: how the reader got hired, when she first met Mike, her first case with Harvey, her first date with Harvey, etc. I guess I just want to see if people are interested. It's been a while since I had written anything that wasn't an academic paper and my writing skills have changed drastically. This is one of the first the fics of the universe I am building in my head that I have written so I decided to publish this. I hope yall enjoy it, please give feedback.

Warnings: Talks about not eating (due to stress), food mention, panic attack details, fainting, Harvey being an ass, cursing I think? if I am missing anything please let me know

Word count: 5.6k

Taglist: @happy74827 @princessvader15 @hashcakes @yiiiikesmish @malfoys-demigod

I tagged those who commented under my last post I hope that's okay and if you aren't interested in being tagged let me know and I will remove you sorry.

As you entered the corridors of Pearson Hardman, they were alive with the usual buzz of legal minds at work, but this time, a distinct tension hung in the air. You didn't even get a few steps into the associates area before hearing the straining  voice of Louis Litt yelling that there was an emergency meeting. 

You scrambled behind, stuffing your mouth with the banana nut muffin you thought you would eat peacefully at your desk this morning. You knew what this meeting was about, everyone knew. The case against Amir Jackson, the firm's ex-lawyer turned adversary, had everyone on edge. 

The briefing room was filled with hushed whispers as everyone settled in, and even the confident strides of Harvey Specter and Louis Litt carried a subtle weight.

Harvey, impeccably dressed as always, stood at the head of the conference table, his piercing gaze flickering between Jessica Pearson and the gathered associates, and maybe it was your imagination but it might have lingered a little longer on you. Snapped out of your imagination when he spoke, "Listen up, people. This case is different. Amir Jackson knows us inside out, and he won't hesitate to use that knowledge against us. He's playing dirty, and we need to be ready for anything."

You never got to meet Amir Jackson, but oh the stories. The firm had no problem doing what they needed to do to be successful, but there was a line they never dared cross and Amir crossed it. 

Jessica leaned forward, her hands planted firmly on the table. "Amir's betrayal when he left this firm was bad enough. Now, he's trying to take a piece of us with him. We can't let that happen."

Louis chimed in. "I've seen my fair share of dirty plays, but this guy is in a league of his own. We need to be one step ahead, or he'll bury us."

The gravity of the situation was sinking  in, associates exchanged knowing glances. They understood the magnitude of the challenge ahead. Amir Jackson wasn't just a legal opponent; he was a former comrade who knew their strengths and weaknesses intimately. The fact that there was a meeting needing to be held just told how much this case was about to get tricky. Usually the inner circle dealt with these cases: Harvey, Louis, Jessica, Mike and maybe sometimes Rachel. 

Your role as the go-to person for legal paperwork kept you in the thick of it. While Harvey Specter had his famed right-hand man in Mike Ross, he knew he could rely on you for drafting contracts with a precision that went beyond mere proficiency.

You might not have been Harvey's drinking buddy or his confidant like Mike, but there was a unique dynamic between you both. It was a quiet understanding that transcended the formalities of the workplace. You  knew you would never be his protege, and that was perfectly fine with you. What you brought to the table was a specialized skill set that complemented Harvey's legal prowess, if you do say so yourself. 

His voice thundered through the briefing room as he adjusted his cuffs, “I am building a specific legal team to help bring down Amir Jackson”. 

Of coure Harvey was going to pick Mike Ross, Mike was worth more than 8 associates. How much more help does he need? Who else could he need? Harvey's eyes scanned the room filled with associates. His gaze settled on you, and he flashed a sly grin. "You, Y/N. You're on my team for this one.” 

Harvey and you had worked together various times. He always knew he could count on you for legal paperwork. As much as he depended on Mike Ross, there was one thing you were that Mike wasn’t and that was that you had a talent when it came to drafting contracts. But I believe that there was some respect, one might even say in a blossoming friendship between you and him. You got a spark of it when he teasingly picked you out of the bunch of associates to be part of his team for his takedown of Amir Jackson. 

“You know, Y/N, if paperwork were an Olympic sport, you'd be a gold medalist," Harvey remarked with a wry grin, “And I expect you to bring the gold home for Pearson Hardman”

“I won’t let you down Sir”, you gave a weak smile as all eyes were on you.

 You hated the attention, yet you couldn’t help the small heat you felt on our cheeks as Harvey stared at you. Drawn to playing with the bracelet you wore as you slightly cringed at yourself for the words that came out of your mouth. Sir? Really. Stupid, you thought. 

Harvey moved past it and called out the name of 2 more associates and asked if anyone else wanted in on the case had to draw up a proposal. He only wanted the best of the best and trust him, he would get the best of the best. 

You made your way to Harvey’s office as the meeting was dismissed. And you reminisce on the first time Harvey complimented on your legal work. 

“ Are you a sorcerer”, Harvey asked as he made his way to your cubicle. It was late one night and you were stuck on an email. You had this need to overachieve and be perfect and it showed in everything you did. But if you were being honest it was exhausting. 

You glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "Well, Harvey, someone has to make sure the i's are dotted and the t's are crossed. Can't let you walk into a negotiation with a misplaced comma, now can we?"

You don’t know what has gotten into you. Maybe it's the lack of sleep or the fact that you had 4 coffees. But the confidence was there and to your surprise, Harvey chuckled. 

You swear you saw a twinkle in his eye as he responded, "You're practically the Mozart of legal documents. I half expect those contracts to start singing a symphony when I open them."

You smirked, setting aside the email you were currently writing, swiveling your chair to face him,  "If you want a soundtrack to your legal victories, Harvey, I'm sure I can find a way to make that happen."

He tilted his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "Now that's the kind of innovation I like to see. Who needs background music at a negotiation? Just cue in Y/N legal masterpiece."

You couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the idea. "I'll be sure to add it to the list of services I provide, Harvey. Background music, legal counsel, and a dash of flair."

Harvey straightened up, his signature confidence in full force. "Flair is your middle name, isn't it? The 'Legal Maestro with a Touch of Flair.' Has a nice ring to it."

You rolled your eyes, feigning exasperation. "I'll have to update my business cards. But let's be honest, Harvey, you appreciate the flair. It's what sets my paperwork apart from the rest."

Harvey smirked, leaning in. "You're not wrong. But don't let it get to your head. I can't have you drafting contracts with a crown on, declaring yourself the Queen of Legal Documents." He turned to leave right after and you could have sworn you were asleep and that any moment now you would wake up from this dream.

You yelled out, “Don't worry, Harvey. I'll keep the royal proclamations to a minimum. Wouldn't want to overshadow your crown as the King of Closing Deals." And you could have sworn he let out a hearty laugh from down the hall. 

“Y/N, nice of you to join us”, Harvey said. Jessica and Mike were already in the room as the other associates were already screaming. They had been given their assignments and were off to work. 

“What can I do”, you spoke above a whisper, feeling small as the eyes were all on you. Jessica knew your history, she knew you struggled to be the shark of a lawyer you could be. But she hired you anyway, your interview with her wasn't the best. But she saw something in you, something that reminded her of herself when she was starting off. She was gonna build and mold you to a shark. But for now she let you be. A shark wasn’t born overnight. 

“ I need one of your flawless contracts for Amir. I need no loopholes. Nothing he can use against us”, Harvey spoke in a harsher tone then he meant. 

All you could do was nod your head and swiftly leave the room to do the research needed.  Leaving Mike, Harvey and Jessica to chatter. As you walked down the corridor you saw Louis making his way to Harvey’s office with Rachel in tow. All hands on deck indeed, you thought to yourself. 

The first night working on that draft through the dim glow of the late-night office lights illuminated your determined face. The rhythmic tapping of the keyboard was accompanied by the occasional crunch of Hot Cheetos. 

Proud of  your work, you compiled the neatly typed pages and confidently walked over to Harvey Specter's desk. As  you  placed the document in the designated spot, you felt relief wash over you. It’s currently 2:00 am, no one is here but you but you really wanted to prove your worth. 

With only 5 hours asleep, the next day, you walked into the office, a little pep in your step. You made yourself some crappy coffee. And were about to head into the bullpen. 

Harvey, engrossed in his own work the minute he stepped into the office, took a moment to glance at the papers. His stern expression, usually unreadable, twisted into a scowl as he noticed a small Hot Cheeto stain near the corner of the document. And called you down to his office. Your pep was gone once you heard his tone of voice as he called your name. Turning on your heel you headed towards his office. Donna was expecting you and let you by. One foot through the door is as far as you got before Harvey had something to say. 

"Do you see this?" Harvey's voice was sharp pointing at the small stain.

Panicking slightly, you stammered, "I'm sorry, Harvey. I must have missed that." It was an easy fix, just print another copy, you thought to yourself making a mental note.

Harvey's gaze shifted from the stain to the content of the contract. He began circling errors with a red pen, his frustration apparent. "And these mistakes? This is what you place on my desk and yet it isn't up to my expectations”.

As he pointed out the errors, your pride in their work crumbled. The Hot Cheeto stain seemed to just make Harvey go on a power trip.. Each correction felt like a blow,"I expect better from you," Harvey remarked, his tone cold and unforgiving.

You nodded, unable to muster a response. Maybe the growing friendship you thought of was truly in your head.  As Harvey returned to his own work,  you retreated to their desk, determined to rectify the mistakes. 

You admit your first draft wasn't the best. And you shouldn't have eaten near the paperwork. You were currently starving as you finished up the last paragraph. It’s been 6 hours since Harvey scolded you but  this draft was perfect. And after you turned it in you were going to treat yourself  to a nice dinner. Probably the Mexican place down the road. You were zoned in for the past 6 hours. This was the only case you were working on and it needs all your attention. But your attention was quickly zoned into the associate that was stumbling through the door. 

Mike comes waltzing in, barely having any balance.  You and Mike haven't really talked much. But he didn't look well. 

“ Hey, Mike. You okay?" you asked, concerned in your voice. 

Mike attempted a nonchalant smile, but the wavering balance gave away his inebriated state. "Yeah, just...you know, a little tired."

Observing Mike closely, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story. "Are you sure about that?"

Mike hesitated before confessing, "Okay, fine. Maybe a bit more than tired. Harvey and I went to meet someone about the Amir Jackson case, and things got a bit...out of hand with the drinks"

Your  concern shifted to a mix of annoyance and frustration. While you had been tirelessly working on the second version of the contract, Harvey and Mike were out getting drunk. "Seriously, Mike? We have a case to win, and you two are out here partying?"

Mike scratched his head, a sheepish grin on his face. "We thought it was a good idea at the time. Maybe it was a bit impulsive."

Determined to express their frustration,  you headed towards Harvey's office, the door slightly opened,. Knocking lightly, you  entered and handed Harvey the second draft of the contract. The faster you gave it to him the faster you could leave. 

"Here's the updated version, Harvey," you said, trying to mask your  annoyance. After all, he is still the boss.

You sped walked out of there and back to your cubicle. Mike was there still, with his head on his desk. 

“Go ask Donna for some pain killers, you still have a long night ahead of you”, you told him. 

Mike just nodded and stumbled as he stood up to go to Donna. You were packing your bags, ready to call it an early night. When your computer dinged.  You sat down to respond to an email quickly when you felt the tension of the bullpen change drastically.

“What is this, Y/N ?" Harvey's tone was sharp, his blue eyes piercing into mine.

You frowned, confused by the unexpected hostility. "It's the contract you asked for, Harvey. I double-checked everything, and it's all in order."

He scoffed, he took out a red marker from his pocket and started circling stuff with his red marker again, "This is subpar, even for an associate. I don't have time for amateur hour."

You  felt a knot tighten in your stomach, a mix of frustration and disbelief. "Harvey, I don't understand. I followed the protocol, and the contract is flawless. What's the issue?"

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, cutting tone. "Flawless? If this is your definition of flawless, we're in trouble. I need precision, not this half-baked attempt at legal work."

The comments were like a punch to the gut. Harvey's relentless standards were known, but this seemed different. You couldn't fathom what had triggered such a harsh reaction. Was he too tipsy?  Doubt crept into your  mind, questioning your abilities despite knowing that the document was, by all standards, impeccable.

As you scrambled to gather my thoughts, Harvey continued. "If you can't handle the basics, I don't know why I bother keeping you around. Maybe it's time for a reality check, Y/N."

His words hung in the air, a heavy weight on my shoulders. The bullpen fell silent, and your colleagues exchanged uneasy glances. You knew how people judged women for being emotional in the workplace but you could not help the tears welling in your eyes. 

Harvey turned on his heel and walked away without a second glance, leaving you with a sinking feeling of inadequacy. You stared at the perfectly crafted document, now dismissed and devalued by Harvey's cutting words. It was a moment of doubt, a crack in the confidence you had built in your work. Goodbye nice dinner, you thought to yourself as we sat at your cubicle, back to square one. 

It's been about a week since Harvey yelled at you. You couldn't sleep, you couldn't eat. Doubt was eating you. You were always proud of your writing skills, that was what you were known for. This is what got you hired at Pearson Hardman. What if you weren't good enough for this job anymore? Did you speak? Your mind was racing and you were lucky enough to talk yourself down. You were currently working on your fifth version of this contract. Every draft before that had him taking out his red marker. A part of you could have sworn he was just circling things at random, but who are you to question the great Harvey Specter. It was 2:00 pm and you thought maybe you deserve a snack so you headed to the breakroom. Who do you happen to run into Mike Ross? He had no faults but just happened to be the unwitting recipient of your  frustration.

You stormed up to Mike barely containing the anger that had been building for weeks. "Mike, we need to talk," I blurted out, not bothering to hide the frustration in my voice.

Mike looked up from his sandwich, surprised by the intensity of my tone. "Sure, Y/N, what's going on?"

You took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. "It's just... Do you ever feel like you're stuck in someone's shadow? Like no matter how hard you work, you're always one step behind?"

Mike furrowed his brow, sensing the gravity of my emotions. "What happened? Is it Harvey?"

You nodded, my frustration bubbling over. "It's always Harvey. He treats you like a partner, his drinking buddy, his go-to guy for everything. Meanwhile, I'm drowning in his shadow, drowning in rewrites and unreasonable expectations."

Mike leaned back, a sympathetic expression on his face. "I get it. Harvey has his moments. But you're great at what you do. Maybe he just doesn't see it."

"That's the problem, Mike. He doesn't see it. I'm just the person who writes and rewrites, constantly trying to meet his impossible standards. Did you know I can't even eat at my desk because once there was a Hot Cheeto stain on one of the drafts, and he lost it?"

Mike's eyes widened, realizing the extent of my frustration. "That's harsh, Y/N. Look, I know I have a different dynamic with Harvey, but it doesn't mean he values you any less. Maybe you should talk to him about how you're feeling."

"It's not that easy, Mike. I'm tired of being the one in the background. I can't handle the pressure anymore." you confessed, your voice laced with a mix of anger and vulnerability.

Mike sighed, understanding the weight of your words. "I can't fix everything, but I can listen. And I am truly sorry"

“NO, NO, no  I am sorry Mike, I am not mad at you or at Harvey. I guess I am mad at myself. I am just going back to work on my fifth version of this document”, you said as you felt the hunger take over. But you pushed through. You had to push through.

As you walked out of the break room,  Mike became an unexpected ally. He went to his binder Harvey put together and looked for the fourth version of the contract knowing Harvey had put it all in the file to look over. The document was perfect, no one could have done it better. 

Mike took in your look when you came bargaining in here. You looked awful. And what it was barely a week working on the case. Mike had heard about Harvey yelling in the bullpen but it had caused you so much disarray that Mike knew Harvey took it too far. He knew you and he didn't talk as much but Rachel adored you and he had to do the right thing and get Harvey to apologize.

Donna saw Mike striding towards Harvey’s office and knew what was coming. Donna knew Harvey was wound tight. That this case was getting the best of him and taking it out on the lovely Y/N but lord forbid she say anything. The last time she tried she nearly got her head chewed off too and Harvey right now needs to know he isn't alone in this case. 

"Harvey, you're being too hard on Y/N. The contract she wrote was perfect, and every draft since then has only improved upon perfection. You can't keep circling random stuff just to make her rewrite it," Mike asserted, his tone firm as he entered Harvey’s office. The fourth version of your contract in his hand. 

Harvey shot him a sharp glance. "I demand the best, and if she can't deliver, then maybe she's not cut out for this."

Mike shook his head. "It's not about delivering, Harvey. It's about you being stressed out over the case and taking it out on her. She's doing her best, and you need to acknowledge that."

Before Harvey could respond, Donna chimed in. "Mike's right, Harvey. I've seen the way you've been treating Y/N, and it's not fair. You've always had a soft spot for her, even if you won't admit it.”

Harvey raised an eyebrow. "A soft spot? Donna, you're reading too much into it."

Donna crossed her arms, "Harvey. I am Donna and I know everything. I also see everything. Harvey. Remember the time she was sick, and you made sure she had everything she needed? Or how you personally chose her for the team during the Jackson case? You compliment her skills and skip past everyone else you named for your team. You've got a soft spot for her, whether you admit it or not”

Mike nodded in agreement. "You can't deny it, Harvey. There's something about her that you can't ignore. Maybe it's time to acknowledge it and cut her some slack."

Harvey sighed, he didn't appreciate Mike and Donna ganging up on him but the fact that they were meant they maybe had a point, "Fine. Maybe I've been too hard on her. But she needs to know that mediocrity isn't acceptable."

Donna shook her head. "Harvey, there's a difference between pushing for excellence and being unnecessarily harsh. You owe Y/N an apology."

Reluctantly, Harvey nodded. "Alright. I'll talk to her. But this doesn't mean I'm going soft."

Donna smirked. "We wouldn't want that, Harvey."

Harvey made his way to find you. While Donna and Mike exchanged a knowing look. He made his way down to Rachels office, knowing that's where he will find you at these hours. He was taking the elevator and he thought about the last time both of you were in the elevator. It was the day the Amir Jackson case got handed for the first time. Harvey was on his way to meet with Amir for the first time in a long time to talk over the case, get under his skin.

The elevator doors closed, enclosing Harvey Specter and Y/N in a small, confined space. The tension from the  Jackson case was already weighing heavily on Harvey, evident by the way he impatiently tugged at his perfectly knotted tie.

"Harvey, relax. You're going to strangle yourself with that tie if you keep pulling on it," you quipped. You realized the stress coming off him and the words just flew out of your mouth before you could think.

Harvey shot them a sidelong glance, his usual stoicism momentarily replaced by a flicker of amusement. "Maybe I'd be better off without it."

A small, unexpected laugh escaped Harvey's lips, surprising both him and Y/N. It was a rare sight to witness Harvey Specter, the embodiment of seriousness, letting his guard down even for a moment. Specifically with you. 

" This isn't your first time easing the tension, I see the way you calm Rachel down when she gets in over her head. You always find a way to lighten the mood. What's your secret?" Harvey teased, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You shrugged, a smile forming as you too let down your guard "Maybe it's just my superpower. The ability to make even the mighty Rachel and even the mysterious Harvey Specter crack a smile."

Harvey's expression shifted back to his usual cool exterior, but a subtle warmth lingered in his eyes. "Careful, now you might start thinking you're irreplaceable."

As the elevator continued its ascent, the banter between you quieted down and Harvey and you started to go back to normal. Back to the quietness and coldness.

But before the elevator opened to the floor, Harvey sneaked in, “Well, don't let it get to your head. You're not the comedian Pearson Specter, just the document wizard.", his smile lingered a little before the face of the closer returned to its hard exterior. 

If you were there longer than Rachel or she was busy running around the office she allowed you to work in her small office room. It was currently 4:00 pm but Louis had yelled at all the associates and dismissed them for the day for being useless. Only those working on the Amir case were still here, plus Donna and Rachel. Rachel was off trying to get the emails of old associates of Amir. You thought that Mike probably went off with her after your little breakdown to him. You knew Harvey was in the office and that you were typing on your keyboard like there was no tomorrow. You  meticulously worked on the revised legal document, determined to prove to Harvey Specter that you could meet his standards and trying to prove yourself that you could melt your own standards. The door swung open abruptly, and you hooked up to see Harvey's stern expression.

"Y/N, we need to talk," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that another reprimand was imminent.

Your pulse quickened, and your breath caught in your throat. The anxiety that had been simmering since Harvey's earlier criticism surged to the surface. You felt a tightness in my chest, your hands trembling as you tried to compose myself.

Harvey noticed your distress, as his expression softened, and he took a step closer. "Hey, relax. I just wanted to talk about earlier. I think I may have been too harsh."

The words barely registered as your panic escalated. Your mind raced, and suddenly, you found it difficult to breathe. The walls of the office seemed to close in on you. Before you could respond, the edges of your vision blurred, and a wave of dizziness overcame you as you sat at the desk, gripping on to the edge for support. 

Harvey's concern deepened as he watched you struggle. "Hey hey hey, whoa, take it easy. You are okay, everything is okay”

But you couldn't catch your breath, and panic tightened its grip. Your hands shook uncontrollably, and you gasped for air. In the midst of the chaos, Harvey acted swiftly. He made his way around the desk kneeling down to be at eye level with you. 

"Deep breaths, Y/N. In and out," Harvey instructed, his voice a soothing anchor in the storm of panic.

As you continued to struggle, Harvey, without hesitation, he took your  hand and placed it over his heart. "Feel my heartbeat? Match your breaths to it. In, and out” 

His heartbeat served as a rhythmic guide, and slowly, your breaths synchronized with its steady cadence. The panic began to subside, replaced by a sense of calm that washed over you.  As the storm within you  quieted, exhaustion set in, and the world around you blurred into darkness.

Harvey caught you as you passed out. Guilt swept over him because he knew he was the cause of this. He can’t remember the last time he saw you smile, the last time you ate, the last time you lit up a room. You were giving your all in this case and by doing so you were giving away parts of yourself too. He moved you onto Rachels couch so you could lay down properly. He knew you passed out because of panic and the lack of eating, he noticed these things about you. He noticed a lot about you actually, damn it Donna, he thought.

 He took his pocket square and wet it with your water bottle. He adjusted himself to the couch, moving so that your head was on his lap as he placed the cool rag on your forehead. 

The aftermath of the panic attack had left both of you in a vulnerable state. Yet Harvey couldn't deny the flutter in his chest as he gazed down at you. Was it concern for your well-being, or was it the proximity that had him on edge? He shook off the thought, focusing on steadying his own heartbeat.

In the midst of the stillness, the door creaked open, and right on cue Mike Ross cautiously entered. He took in the scene, the concern etched across his face.

"What happened?" Mike asked, his eyes shifting between Harvey and your unconscious state, ready to fight Harvey if he did you any physical harm.

Harvey, in his usual commanding tone, snapped, "Go to the Mexican restaurant two blocks down and get two number 5's."

Mike, taken aback, stammered, "But—"

"Just do it," Harvey insisted, his gaze never leaving you. 

Mike quickly exited, leaving Harvey alone with his unconscious colleague. He had so many questions but Harvey’s tone told him everything he needed to know.  Minutes later, the door swung open again, revealing Mike with bags of Mexican takeout in hand.

"Here," Mike said, handing the bags to Harvey. "I'll take off early for the night. Rachel and I were thinking about grabbing dinner. You got this, right?" A little weary to leave you, feeling like he should tell Rachel, Donna or even Jessica. But the look in Harvey’s eye told him he had nothing to worry about. 

Harvey nodded, a silent acknowledgment of Mike's understanding. As Mike left, Harvey couldn't help but feel a mix of gratitude and guilt. He knew you hadn't been eating well, and by the looks of your under eye bags you also hadn't been sleeping and the panic attack had been triggered by the stress of the Jackson case, a burden he bore on both their shoulders.

As you began to stir, Harvey glanced down at the bags of Mexican food. The aroma filled the room, and he hoped the gesture would, in some small way, make up for the turmoil he inadvertently caused.

"You're awake," Harvey remarked as you slowly opened their eyes.

You ignored everything around you as you slowly sat up with the help of Harvey. A blush rushing on your face realizing how close you were to Harvey. But all that faded when you saw the food, "How did you know this is my favorite?"

“That’s the first thing you ask?’Harvey raised an eyebrow. 

Your body slowly turned to face him.The headache and body sores had you wincing in pain. Harvey’s eyes held much guilt and sadness in them even as he tried to suppress them and act strong in front of you. This was about you and not about what he was feeling. 

“I am a simple girl. I get easily distracted by food”, you let out a small laugh even though you are exhausted, “Now answer my question”

Harvey hesitated, the words lingering on the tip of his tongue, he wanted to say that it's because he knew you. But Instead of admitting the depth of his knowledge about you, he chose a simpler response. "Who doesn't love Mexican food?" 

You hummed as he moved the desk closer to you so you wouldn't have to get up from the couch. The food was spread out and he took a seat next to you. A silence took over the room as you both began to eat. The atmosphere was heavy with unspoken tension, the events of the panic attack still lingering in the air.

Harvey cleared his throat, breaking the uneasy silence. "Look, Y/N, I wanted to apologize for the unnecessary pressure I put on you. It was out of line, and I shouldn't have let it escalate to the point of causing a panic attack."

You glanced up from your plate, a mixture of exhaustion and forgiveness in your eyes. "Harvey, it's not entirely your fault. The case is stressful, and I should have handled it better."

Harvey's expression softened at your words. "That doesn't excuse my behavior. I should have been more considerate. I don't want you to feel like you have to carry the weight of the case alone."

You sighed, pushing the food around on their plate. "Harvey, I forgive you, but on one condition."

Harvey raised an eyebrow, silently urging you to continue.

" I can't keep being treated like an outsider, I know I only got hired because of my writing skills but I want to do more, be more. I want to be more than just the person who drafts contracts. I know I can be a kick ass lawyer if given the chance."

Harvey took a moment to absorb your words. The realization of the impact of his actions sank in, and he nodded. "You're right”

“Did those words really just come out of your mouth”, your eye grew wide as a smile danced on your lips’’

“Just, can you just shush for a moment”, he said as he placed his  fork down. 

“ Jessca told me when you were hired that you were born to be a shark. I guess I got so caught up in your skills that I haven't really even given you the chance to dominate the courtroom.  I shouldn't have overlooked that."

You saw something in his eyes you had never seen before. Was it hope?

You both continued to eat in subdued silence, the tension in the room shifted. The unspoken feelings between both of you simmered beneath the surface. This was forever changing the dynamic of your professional relationship. 

So where do you all go after this? The case of Amir Jackson isn't over, there is much more left for you both to do. This isn't the end. This is only the beginning, leaving both Harvey and you to navigate whatever comes next.

[hotvintagepoll]

hotvintagepoll Hot Men Tournament rundown thoughts

I promised a final recap post and here it is! I'll try to cover the questions I saw the most as we closed out the bracket, reveal my ✨secret faves✨, and talk about the biggest surprises and turnarounds I saw in the brackets.

Yes, this will get silly.

ROUND 1

As I've mentioned before, I worked off submissions for who to include in the bracket, so if your fave was missing—that's why. I used submitted pics when I could, but many submissions didn't have one, so I tried to find decent ones in the couple of days I had to prep the first round (I didn't always succeed). By decent, I mean pics where 1) I could see the hot man's face, so not too much moody lighting, and 2) hopefully conveyed something about his vibe, even if it was a funny thing (yes, I showed Howard Keel in full Shakespeare get-up—I'm not beyond putting up a pic because I think it's funny). I didn't know all of these hotties going in, so some I had to guess with, but when I could I tried to pick shots that had a touch of the humor, class, or genre of the hot man.

For Round 1 and Round 2, I grouped the hotties by each decade, so only '60s actors ran against '60s actors, '50s against '50s, etc. Male beauty standards shifted pretty dramatically over the sixty years this tournament covers, and I didn't think it was fair to pit dramatically different styles of beauty against each other immediately.

I pitted hot men against each other based on opposing energies—hot vs cold, elegant vs rough, comedy vs drama, etc.. I wanted the polls to be interesting and I've never liked brackets where everyone is clearly in different "lanes" until the finals! I also wanted to make polls where I couldn't tell which way they would swing, so by setting matchups that felt opposite but equal, I got to be surprised by the bracket results too.

The only reason we had any three-way matchups is because the amount of men submitted didn't round to a nice bracket number. I don't like them generally and find them really hard to balance.

Secret faves from Round 1—I am a James Coburn girlie and knew he would die immediately, so that was not a shock but a bummer. I similarly knew Robert Preston is only magical to people who have seen him do His Little Dance Routines in That One Iowa Musical, but it would have been nice for him to last longer.

Surprises—Jeremy Brett was a last-minute add and I didn't think he really had a shot, so I put him in as a third wheel on the Sean Connery/Dean Martin matchup. Little did I count on the Granada girlies. (Always count on the Granada girlies.) The Elvis/Peter Falk poll was the first one to gain any momentum—Elvis was winning for the first 24 hours but then, my god, did Peter fight back. I didn't expect the Tab/Toshiro poll to make that bad a mincemeat out of Tab—people have different tastes, and I thought the people who like blonde sunny All American white boys might turn out for The Blonde Sunny All American White Boy. Sorry, Tab. I hope you've peeled yourself off the sidewalk by now. And, of course, I was SHOCKED and APPALLED that James Cagney would be obliterated by, of all people, Mr. Bing Crosby.

SHADOW BRACKET

The fervor of the Harold Lloyd and Fredric March people inspired the shadow bracket, and I couldn't be happier at the way it's gone. You were right, the original photos I had for them did suck. Cunty Harold Lloyd in his little life guard uniform was a revelation.

ROUND 2

For Round 2 I'd gotten a better sense of who was doing well and who was not, so a little of that came into play, but I mostly paired on vibes again. (I genuinely think this is a good way to make a fun, challenging bracket.)

Secret faves—Noooo not hot dilf Dick Van Dyke don't take my hot inventor dilf away uwu!!! (He was up against Marlon Brando. I would have been shocked if he'd won but for a minute there, a glorious second, it was possible.) I am also a big old softie for David Niven's particular brand of repression to the point of volcanic rupture, but he is one of many hotties who does not look good without moving and speaking so I figured he would be going.

So much beef—hey! hey you. I ran a poll asking if we are horny for dancers. Yes, was the resounding poll response. Where, then, did all the fucking dancers go? This round we lost Donald O'Connor, Fred Astaire, Harold Nicholas; Sammy Davis Jr., Danny Kaye, Frank Sinatra, and Bing Crosby all sneak into this category as well, by token of having been in the kind of big MGM bang-a-pan-and-put-on-a-show beloved bedlams we all watch at Christmastime. Round 2 voters HATED musical matchups. Except for one.

The one—SOUND OF MUSIC, the voters said, WE LOVE SOUND OF MUSIC. we will KILL the man responsible for salad dressing because of the SOUND OF MUSIC. every other dance man can die but THIS man dances a FOLK DANCE with JULIE ANDREWS in a GARDEN. I did not go into this poll with strong opinions about Christopher Plummer or Paul Newman but my god did I leave having heard all of them.

Surprises—James Edwards/Anthony Perkins matchup was a nail biter! Conrad vs Oscar kept me up at nights. Surprised to see Basil Rathbone survive against Sabu Dastagir—both very fetching, but Sabu had some top-tier propaganda. Cesar Romero put up a surprisingly stiff fight against Cary Grant (an omen for things to come).

Oh horrors—horror heroes surprisingly fell all over the place. I was sure either Bela Lugosi or Turhan Bey would sweep their three-way matchup, but Michael Redgrave of all people carried through; Boris Karloff went down against Johnny Weismuller (while holding hands with fellow fallen hottie Fred Astaire), but at least we got his guacamole recipe before he went. Delighted to see that the Venn diagram of the coalitions who support horror hero Vincent Price and funny lil guy Donald O'Connor is a circle.

Secret faves pt 2—oh yeah, I fucking love Danny Kaye and Donald O'Connor. RIP funny lil kings.

ROUND 3

For some reason this was the hardest one to make matchups for. Oh no, all the men are hot.

Secret faves—Michael Redgrave i love you SO much you're SUCH an idiot, how did you make it as far as round 3. I want you to sweep the whole thing but you should NOT be surviving this. I love you, here's a kiss, go home.

Surprises—Marlon Brando is gone! Errol Flynn is gone! Christopher Plummer exhausted himself beating the organic oreos man to death and goes out with a whimper. Beginning to actually see the roots of #mifunesweep as Tyrone Power, a hot man very different from Burt Lancaster, who was in turn very different from Tab Hunter, also gets swept under the wheels of the unbeatable toshirobus. Conrad Veidt finds that no amount of purring svelte eccentricity compares to the people who will fuck a young Lt. Columbo.

SHADOW BRACKET 2

Cannot believe it but Veidt loses this one too. Perkins sweeps and becomes Prince of the Shadow Realm!

ROUND 4

At this point I've set a formal bracket that I'm following.

Secret faves—this isn't secret anymore, but losing Jimmy Stewart hurt.

Surprises—The Gene Kelly/Jeremy Brett matchup was the diciest one all round, moving back and forth between the two by sometimes .01%. Far more surprising, however, was Cary Grant getting eliminated before the quarterfinals. Grant has never been my type, but he is famous for being THE type, so while the writing had been on the wall the whole tournament—how on earth did Michael Redgrave even get 36% in his matchup?!—seeing Grant go down was a SHOCKER. Other fallen hotties included Gregory Peck, James Dean, Harry Belafonte, and Sessue Hayakawa. Peter Falk finally met his match in Omar Sharif.

QUARTERFINALS

Secret faves—I don't know if it counts as a secret fave, tbh, as my horses in the race really went out with Stewart, but I do have a soft spot here worth mentioning. Here's my childhood dog, Keaton.

The resemblance is truly striking, and yes, he was short, fast, and not prone to smiling.

Surprises—I couldn't predict how any of these matchups would go down, but I was most interested in Keaton vs Sharif, as they are both SO hot in SUCH different ways.

SEMIFINALS:

This was such a good batch of semifinalist contestants. By this point I think we could all tell Mifune was unstoppable (though I thought Sharif might give him a run for his money), but I really didn't know which way Robeson vs Poitier would flip.

FINALS:

I wanted Sidney Poitier to pull a last-minute sweep out of nowhere, but alas, Toshiro is just THAT GOOD (maybe. I will admit that I find Toshiro's domination a little hard to believe, given the variety and hotness of all his competitors; the man is hot but all these men are hot). I'm still happy with how the tournament went.

FINAL MEDITATIONS:

Biggest shock of a dropout: the loss of Paul Newman

Biggest "you people have no taste": the loss of James Cagney

Biggest victory: Paul Robeson making it to the semifinals over often-assumed champion Gregory Peck

Biggest coalition who deserve justice: dancing men

Biggest ask character: vents anon (currently eating Laurence Olivier)

Biggest, uhh, anything: how many of you are here! I genuinely thought it would be me and 10 other people voting for the whole tournament. I'm thrilled it took off like this!

I think that's everything, but I'm happy to answer addl asks. And THANK YOU to everyone for your tags, rants, impassioned propaganda, beautiful pics, and love for the hot men! See you for the ladies!

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Hunted | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, smut, unprotected sex (don’t do this, friends), mentions of infertility

Word Count: 5254

A/N: giving the people what they want in this chapter. lol. no one under 18 allowed beyond this point!!!! 

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

At some point in leaving Oregan behind, Dean pulled off to the side of the road in the middle of nowhere for a break. He pulled three beers out of the cooler in the trunk and leaned against the fence next to you. 

Sam turned to his brother. “So. Last night. You want to tell me what the hell you were talking about?”

You raised a brow at Dean, interested to hear his explanation. 

“What do you mean?” the older brother questioned.

“Dean, you said you were tired of the job,” you told him. “That’d be weird enough on its own. But on top of that, you said it wasn’t just because of your dad.”

“Forget it,” Dean gruffly replied.

“No, I can't. No way,” Sam argued.

“Come on man, I thought we were all goin’ to die, you can't hold that over me,” Dean shot back.

Sam straightened his posture, shoulders tensing. “No, no, no, no. You can't pull that crap with me, man. You're talking.”

“And what if I don't?”

“Then I guess I'll just have to keep asking until you do.”

Dean tried to pick up his plucky attitude. “I don't know, man. I just think maybe we ought to… go to the Grand Canyon.”

“What?” you scoffed.

“Yeah, you know, all this driving back and forth across country, you know I've never been to the Grand Canyon? Or we could go to T.J. or Hollywood; see if we can bang Lindsey Lohan,” Dean smirked.

You rolled your eyes. “Dean, speak English, please.”

“I just think we should take a break from all this. Why do we gotta get stuck with all the responsibility, you know? Why can't we live life a little bit?” he asked. 

“Why are you saying all this?” Sam cut back in.

Dean took a deep breath before shaking his head and turning away.

Sam pulled his arm back. “No, no, no, no, Dean. You're my brother, all right? So whatever weight you're carrying, let me help a little bit.”

Dean’s face contorted with emotion. “I can't. I promised.”

“Who?” you asked.

“My dad,” he replied simply. 

Sam’s face drew together. “What are you talking about?”

Dean looked down at the ground. “Right before Dad died, he told me something.” He took a deep breath before looking up at Sam. “He told me something about you.”

“What?” Sam urged. “Dean, what did he tell you?”

The older brother cast his eyes to the ground. “He said that he wanted me to watch out for you, to take care of you.”

Sam seemed to relax a bit. “He told you that a million times.”

The other Winchester shook his head, growing more upset. “No, this time was different. He said that I had to save you.”

“Save me from what?”

“He just said that I had to save you, that nothing else mattered; and that if I couldn't, I'd—” he turned his head, beginning to tear up.

“You’d what, Dean?” Sam asked gently.

He looked back up at his little brother, tears forming in his eyes. “That I'd have to kill you. He said that I might have to kill you, Sammy.”

Sam drew in a sharp breath. “Kill me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I don't know,” Dean shook his head, voice breaking.

“I mean, he must have had some kind of reason for saying it, right? Did he know the demon's plans for me? Am I supposed to go Darkside or something? What else did he say, Dean?” Sam’s head was beginning to swim; even you could tell that.

“Nothing, that's it, I swear,” Dean breathed out.

“How could you not have told me this?”

“Because it was Dad, and he begged me not to,” Dean responded simply.

Sam’s voice grew angrier. “Who cares?! Take some responsibility for yourself, Dean! You had no right to keep this from me!”

“You think I wanted this? Huh? I wish to god he'd never opened his mouth. Then I wouldn't have to walk around with this screaming in my head all day,” the older brother yelled right back.

Sam turned and took a few steps away, fuming. “We've just got to figure out what's going on, then, what the hell all this means.”

“We do?” Dean sighed. “I've been thinking about this, I think we should just lay low, y’know? At least for a while. It'd be safer. And that way I can make sure—”

The brunet spun back around. “What? That I don't turn evil? That I don't turn into some kind of killer?”

“Sam, he never said that,” you jumped in.

“Jeez, if you're not careful you will have to waste me one day, Dean,” Sam continued to mock.

Dean raged at his brother. “I never said that! Dammit, Sam, this whole thing is spinnin’ out of control. Alright? You're immune to some weirdo demon virus, and I don't even know what the hell anymore. And you're pissed at me, I get it. That's fine, I deserve it. But we lay low until we figure out our next move, okay?”

Sam grumbled, “Forget it.”

“Sam, please, man,” the older brother begged. His voice began to break again. “Hey, please. Just give me some time. Give me some time to think, okay? I'm begging you here, please. Please.”

You stared at Sam with bated breath, waiting for his reaction. To your relief, he finally nodded reluctantly.

***

A few hours away, you and the brothers settled on a motel to stop in for the night. You weren’t sure what Dean’s plans were; whether you’d be here for days, weeks, or a month. You began to quiet your mind for the evening only to be disturbed by a knock on the door. To your surprise, it was Dean.

“Hey,” you breathed out. You were suddenly acutely aware of the fact that you were only dressed in an oversized t-shirt and your underwear.

Wordlessly, Dean slipped past you into your room.

“Oh-kay,” you muttered, closing the door behind him. “What’s up?” you asked him. 

He stood awkwardly on the opposite side of the room from you. It was the first time since you’d met him that he wasn’t exuding confidence. “Dean, talk to me. What’s going on?”

He stayed silent, hesitating and running a hand through his hair. “Dammit, you make it so hard to talk to you,” he grumbled, beginning to pace.

“What?” you asked, taken aback. “You know you can tell me anything. I’d hope I’m pretty easy to talk to.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s—” He stopped his pacing. “I wanna tell you everything I just— I’m not good at this.”

You giggled. “Clearly.”

He deadpanned at you. 

“Seriously, Dean, spit it out.”

“Can I—” He took a deep breath. “Can I stay here tonight?” 

Your breath hitched, and you suddenly realized you hadn’t answered him yet. “Yeah, yeah, sure,” you said. He clicked on the lamp next to your bed while you turned off the other lights in the room. He crawled into your bed and lifted the covers up for you. You slid in next to him and settled in on your side, facing him. “How you holding up?” you asked. 

He blew out a puff of air. “How do you think?” he finally jested. 

You frowned sympathetically. “Dean, why didn’t you tell me? I get why you didn’t tell Sam, but… I could’ve helped you.”

“(Y/N),” he sighed. “You know I’m no good at the mushy crap.”

“I don’t think that’s it, though,” you replied. “I think you’ve had to keep shit together for too long. Now, opening up to someone feels foreign to you. And I’d stand to reason you’re worried about burdening me with that stuff.”

He looked away from you, and you could tell you were right.

“You are never burdening me. I like listening to you talk. I like being the person you can unload your crap on,” you admitted. “I care about you. You’re my best friend. I never want you to feel like you can’t talk to me.”

“It’s not that I feel like I can’t, I just— I don’t wanna get too close to you.”

Your heart clenched. “Why? You’re confusing me.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, I do, I— I don’t want that to be the reason I end up losing you,” he murmured.

You shook your head. “You won’t. You are not a burden.”

“(Y/N)—” Dean sighed.

“You’re not!” you protested, putting a hand on the side of his face. “Dean, you are… so important to me. Listening to you is important to me. Let me in, please.” You stroked his cheek with you thumb.

“I’m trying,” he said, reaching up to hold your wrist. He kissed the inside of your wrist gently, savoring the moment before looking back up at you. “I promise, I’m trying. I’ve never been this honest with… anyone, I don’t think.”

You huffed a short laugh. “I’m glad you can trust me. I trust you, too. And… I’m never trying to push you to talk about shit you don’t want to. But I do want you to know, no matter how dark and scary it gets, I’m here.”

Dean nudged your nose with his. You took the opportunity to kiss him gently, the kiss quickly becoming more passionate. Dean grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him, hooking your leg around his hips. He then rolled on top of you, continuing to kiss you deeply. You arched your back into him, moaning into his mouth. He ground his hardening cock into your core, and you broke the kiss suddenly.

“Wait, wait, Dean, are you sure you want this?” you asked him. 

“What?” he asked breathlessly.

“I mean, with everything going on, do you just… need to blow off some steam? Or… do you really want me?” you asked nervously.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” he urged you. 

You did.

“I want this. I want you.” 

You pulled his face back down to you as he started to grind against you again. You could feel your arousal beginning to soak through your underwear, and Dean could feel it, too. 

He smirked down at you. “That all for me?”

“Shut up,” you said, kissing him again. You broke the kiss only to take his shirt off him. He did the same to you, groaning at the sight of your exposed breasts. You moved to cover yourself, but Dean pinned your hands next to your head.

“Don’t,” he ordered. “Don’t hide from me.”

You leaned up to kiss him again, and he began to twist and pinch your nipples, causing you to moan into his mouth. 

“Dean,” you breathed out.

“I know, sweetheart,” he told you. “Fuck, I don’t have a condom. Are you—?”

You shook your head. “I can’t have kids,” you admitted. “Part of the, uh, side effects of being malnourished as a kid,” you laughed uncomfortably. You looked back up at Dean to find him gazing at you sadly.

“It’s okay, really,” you told him. You were telling the truth; you wouldn’t want to bring a child into this life anyway. “Now, are you gonna fuck me, or what?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled. Dean pushed his boxers down with one hand and pulled your panties to the side. You moaned at the feeling of him entering you, chest heaving from the stretch. 

“Dean, Dean, slow down,” you pleaded. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned. Dean let you adjust to his size as you ran your hands over his chest and along his back, just enjoying the feeling of touching him. Feeling him kept you grounded as he pushed completely into you. 

“God, fuck, move, please,” you rushed out breathlessly.

He complied, kissing you again as he toyed with your breasts and rocked into you. You were shocked at the speed your orgasm crept up on you, and you raked your nails up Dean’s spine. “Dee, I’m gonna—”

“I know, I know, me, too—” he said, burying his face in your shoulder. His pace became more frantic and erratic before you finally felt ropes of his cum shooting into you, sending you over the edge along with him. Dean continued to rut into you and press kisses into your neck as he steadied his breathing, and you held onto his shoulders tightly. Still inside of you, he leaned back up to kiss you.

You held either side of his face with your legs wrapped around his waist as you kissed him, relishing in the feeling of your bodies connected. When he did pull out, you moaned at the loss as he tucked himself back into his boxers and adjusted your panties. He gathered up your slick on his index and middle fingers and brought them to his lips. Your breath hitched as he kept eye contact with you while he smirked and licked his fingers clean. He then put his fingers between your lips, and his jaw dropped as you sucked them with your eyes closed in contentment. You pulled Dean’s fingers out of your mouth and kissed them gently before taking his wrist and wrapping his arm around your back.

Dean chuckled and shuffled closer to you in the bed. He held you close to him and rested his forehead against yours. “If vulnerability is gonna get me sex like that, I’ll be spillin’ my guts to you non-stop,” he joked.

You shoved his shoulder playfully and feigned offense. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he said, pulling you back against his chest. Dean laid on his back, staring up and the ceiling, and had you lying on your stomach on top of his chest, arms encircling your waist. 

“Thank you,” he murmured. 

“For what?” you asked.

“Everything.”

***

You woke up wrapped by Dean’s arms the next morning. The two of you hadn’t moved much from the position you fell asleep in; Dean securing you to his chest, and your head tucked under his chin. You sighed contentedly, snuggling more into Dean. 

The air would undoubtedly shift between you following last night’s events. You’d told him before you weren’t one for hookups, and you knew he wasn’t one to stay the night with a hookup. Being like this was new for both of you. It almost nauseated you thinking about the possible repercussions of sleeping with him, as you’d never cared as much about someone as you cared about him. He was starting to consume more and more of your heart, and you allowed him willingly. 

What scared you was the possibility of being used. You weren’t a very trusting person to begin with, and trusting someone with your heart was entirely new territory for you. You feared that one day, after Dean was over his father’s passing and possibly even tired of having you around, he would be done with you. As this thought crossed your mind, you moved to get out of bed. Dean’s arms tightened around you.

“Where you goin’?” he hummed, eyes still closed.

“Dean, I gotta pee, let me go,” you said.

“Don’t think I will,” he replied, rolling on top of you.

“Dean!” you squealed. “Let me up!” 

He began to attack your neck with kisses up to your lips as you giggled and half-heartedly fought him off you. 

You pecked him on the lips and pulled your neck back into your pillow slightly to look at him. “You’re cute. I still gotta pee.”

“Argh.” He rolled off of you dramatically and laid back on his pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

When you’d done your business and brushed your teeth, you asked Dean, “What’d you tell Sam, anyway? I’m surprised he hasn’t called either of us asking where you were. Or broken down the door yet.” You sat back on the bed next to him. 

That seemed to strike a chord in him. “Yeah, now that you mention it, that is weird. I didn’t tell him I was leaving. He was knocked out when I left.”

You started to get concerned. “He should definitely be up by now, too. It’s after nine o’clock.”

You saw Dean’s breath catch in his chest with worry, and he immediately pulled on his jeans and shirt from the night before along with his shoes. He left the room as you quickly got dressed, too, brushing your hair back into a haphazard ponytail. You held your phone trying to call Sam between your shoulder and ear as you tugged on your boots. “C’mon, pick up,” you begged into the phone.

Dean returned moments later. “He’s not in the room. Dammit, Sam!”

“Hey, I’m sure he’s fine.” You weren’t. “Is the car still here?”

“Yeah. I’ve got the keys, too.”

“What the fuck,” you muttered. “Sam’s phone went to voicemail twice.”

“Shit,” Dean grumbled. “Alright, get your stuff, we’re leaving now.”

You nodded, running around your room to pack the few things you’d taken out of your bag. You beat Dean to the Impala and he sped out of the parking lot more recklessly than usual.

“Slow down, dude, we’re no good to Sam dead,” you scolded.

He didn’t respond to that. “Call Ellen, see if she’s seen him.”

“Already on it.” You pressed the phone to your ear, grateful to hear the woman respond. She told you she hadn’t seen him, but would let you know if she did. You called Bobby; got the same answer. Jo didn’t answer her phone. Sam still wasn’t answering, either.

“Just head to the Roadhouse,” you told Dean. “Ash can probably track ‘im down.”

Dean nodded wordlessly, and you could practically see his mind running a mile a minute. His shoulders were tense, brow set in a hard line, and jaw clenched. You weren’t sure how to help him at that moment, so you just sat by him silently for hours on the road. Then, Ellen called again.

“Hello?” you said. “You heard from Sam?”

“I have, but he made me promise not to tell you where he is,” she replied.

“C’mon, Ellen, please—” 

Dean took the phone from you. “Ellen? It’s Dean. Something bad could be going on here, and I swore I'd look after that kid.” A moment or so later, the tension released from his body as he breathed out, “Thanks.” He clicked the phone shut and handed it back to you. 

“Lafayette, Indiana,” was all he said for the rest of the drive.

***

When you found Sam, he was at the Blue Rose Motel in a room. You and Dean could see him through the window of his room. 

“Oh, thank god you're okay,” Dean breathed out.

Sam moved aside, allowing you and Dean to see the tiny brunette in the room with him.

“Oh, you're better than okay. Sam, you sly dog!” Dean chuckled.

“Dean, I don’t know Sam would drive six hundred miles for pussy,” you quipped. “I think something else is going on here.”

Suddenly, something caught your eye from across the road. It was Gordon on the rooftop of the building, hunched over a sniper rifle he was loading.

“Dean, look,” you rushed out. “We gotta go!”

You sprinted across the street and up the fire escape of the building just as Gordon took a shot. The window on Sam’s room shattered, and Dean jumped Gordon from behind just as he was about to take another shot.

“Gordon!” He kicked Gordon down, hard, pinning him by his collar. He hit him over and over again. “You do that to my brother, I'll kill you!”

You moved to grab the rifle from Gordon, but he smashed the butt of the rifle into your head. It was lights out after that moment.

***

When you came to, you groaned in pain at the pounding in your head. Not quite aware of what was going on yet, you tried to raise a hand to your head only to be stopped by the binds around your wrists. You jerked in your chair and realized your ankles were bound, too. 

‘Hey, sweetie,” Gordon monotoned. “Nice of you to join us.”

“You son of a bitch,” you hissed, staring up at him through your eyebrows. 

Without missing a beat, he back slapped you. “That's my momma you're talking about.”

Your head still jerked to the side from the slap, you flexed your jaw painfully. “Where’s Dean?” you asked.

As if on cue, you heard him in the next room. “(Y/N)? (Y/N)!” he called.

“Isn’t that sweet,” Gordon droned. 

“What’s your plan, here?” you questioned, ignoring his comment. “Gonna get back at us for leaving you tied up in your own mess for three days?”

“What, you think this is revenge?” His monotone almost broke as he chuckled humorlessly. “This isn't personal. I'm not a killer, sweetie. I'm a hunter. And your boyfriend’s brother is fair game.” Gordon slammed a knife from his canvas duffel bag into its sheath.

“Sam? Why?” you asked.

“Was huntin’ a demon down in Louisiana. She told me all about Sam’s visions. Apparently, a bunch of psychic freaks are supposed to help demons take over the world. And the real kick in the ass: she told me I know one of them. Our very own Sammy Winchester,” he said.

“Are you done monologuing, or…?”

He scoffed. “You keep that attitude up. I know it’s just a front. I gotta say, I’m kinda excited to see you and Dean break when Sam goes up in smoke.”

“So, what? You’re gonna use us to lure Sam here, kill him; then what about us? You don’t think we’ll hunt you down to hell and back?” you hissed.

“I do. That’s why I’m gonna kill you, too.”

You snorted. 

“Something funny?”

You shook your head. “Nah, it’s just, you think you’re so good. Do you really believe you’re gonna take us out that easy?” 

He considered for a moment. “Honestly? Yeah. There were two of y’all, and I still got the jump on you.”

You couldn’t argue with him there. “Call it a weak moment,” you grumbled.

He snickered and came up behind you, forcing a tie into your mouth. He caught a bit of your hair in the knot as he secured it around your head. “See you on the flipside, sweetheart.” Gordon left the room and shut the door behind him. 

You immediately set to work trying to loosen the ropes enough to be able to grab the knife sheathed in your sleeve. 

‘Fuck, he tied this shit well,’ you thought. You continued struggling, tears beginning to pool in your eyes. 

You heard Dean and Gordon talking in the next room, but couldn’t quite make out what was being said. You took in the dilapidated room around you filled with debris, and noticed one of the loose wooden boards was just around level with the arms of your chair. You began propelling yourself toward it by making the chair hop in the board’s direction. You paused when you heard footsteps approaching the door to your room. The door creaked open to reveal Gordon, and you stared him down angrily. 

“All good in here?” he asked you accusingly.

You couldn’t respond due to the gag tightly secured around your mouth. 

“Good. Sammy should be here soon,” he said. He loaded a mag into his rifle and turned to leave the room. You could hear Gordon pacing the floor just outside the room and decided not to move until he left. 

Unfortunately, that moment never came. The next thing you heard was a bomb going off. You screamed, muffled by the gag, and immediately began moving back toward your original goal to help you get loose. A second grenade sounded, and you began to sob. You stuck a jutting-out part of the loose board under the rope around your wrist and tugged against it, allowing you room to pull your wrist out. You dragged your hand along the splintered wood, ignoring the scratching and pricks to fully free your wrist. You quickly went to work pulling the knife out of your sleeve to free your other wrist and ankles. You burst through the door and pulled the gag over your head, yelling, “Dean!”

You heard his muffled sobs from beyond the door across from you. You hurried to him, hearing struggling from Gordon in the next room. And… Sam? You were relieved to hear his voice and began cutting Dean free of his binds. Dean ripped his gag off with his free hand and ran a hand over your hair as you finished freeing him.

You looked back up at him. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “You?” He gingerly touched the wound on your forehead from where the butt of Gordon’s rifle hit you. 

“Yeah,” you said, just as Sam walked into the room.

“I’m fine, too, guys, thanks,” he joked.

“Sam!” You ran to him and threw your arms around him. 

“Hey, (Y/N/N).”

Dean was next to hug Sam. He frantically checked his baby brother for injuries. Sam clapped a hand to Dean’s shoulder to let him know he was okay. With that, Dean wheeled around in the direction Sam had come from. “That son of a—”

Sam stopped him. “Dean. No.”

Dean shrugged his brother off him. “I let him live once. I'm not making the same mistake twice.”

“Trust me. Gordon's taken care of. Come on,” Sam jerked his head at the door, pulling Dean by his jacket.

Sam staggered down the steps of the cabin, and you caught him as he almost stumbled down the last one.

“You okay, kid?” you asked.

He nodded, grimacing. “Yeah, he got in a few good hits, though.”

You looked at him sadly.

“Trust me, (Y/N), I’m okay.”

Suddenly, a shot fired off whizzing right past your head. “Run!” you yelled, scrambling across the street to find cover in the woods. 

“You call this taken care of?” Dean grunted at his brother. 

Sam grabbed you and Dean and pulled you into the ditch next to him.

“What the hell are we doing?” Dean questioned.

“Just trust me on this, alright?”

Your breath quickened as Gordon continued to approach your hiding spot with his gun cocked. However, to your relief, cops emerged from their cars with sirens blazing, cornering Gordon.

“Drop your weapons! Get down on your knees!” one cop yelled, pointing his gun at Gordon.

You grinned at Sam as Gordon was apprehended, glaring in your direction. The cops pulled out the weapons rack in the back of Gordon’s car.

“Anonymous tip,” Sam whispered.

“You're a fine upstanding citizen, Sam,” Dean commented. 

You giggled, leaning against Sam to hug him as you continued watching Gordon’s arrest. “Only thing that would make this better would be some popcorn.”

***

You called Ellen to explain the situation to her. “Apparently, Gordon was hunting Sam,” you told her. “And he apparently had some Roadhouse connections.” You were fuming when Dean told you that, but also refused to let Dean rip into that poor woman. You decided to handle the issue yourself. 

“And you honestly think that it was me? Or Ash? Or Jo? No way,” she said.

“Well, who else knows about Sam?” you questioned accusingly. “I mean, you must have been talking to somebody.”

“Hey, you can say a lot of things about us. But we are not disloyal. And we're not stupid. We haven't breathed a word of this,” she replied sharply.

“Are you sure? I wanna trust you, but this guy almost killed us. I need to know the truth,” you told her.

“(Y/N), sweetie, this roadhouse is full of other hunters. They're all smart. They're good trackers. Each of them with their own patterns and connections. Look, hell, I could name twelve of them right now that are capable of putting this together.” She sighed. “I am sorry about what happened. But I can't control these people. Or what they choose to believe.”

“Okay,” you said finally. “Thanks, Ellen.” You hung up the phone and sat back against the passenger’s side door of the Impala as Dean continued driving. Sam had been on a phone call of his own, but apparently, he’d been sent to voicemail.

“Hey, Ava, it's Sam. Again. Um, call me when you get this, just want to make sure you got home okay. Alright. Bye.”

“Everything alright?” Dean asked his younger brother. 

“Yeah, I hope so.”

“Well, Gordon should be reaching for the soap for the next few years at least,” the older brother chuckled.

“Yeah. If they pin Scott Carey's murder on him.”

A potentially unfortunate thought crossed your mind. “And if he doesn't bust out.”

A silence settled over the car.

“Dude, you ever take off like that again—” Dean warned.

Sam snorted. “What? You’ll kill me?”

“That is so not funny,” you chimed in.

“Alright, alright. So where to next, then?” Sam asked.

Dean smirked. “One word: Amsterdam.”

“Dean!” you and Sam exclaimed.

“C’mon, guys, I hear the coffeeshops don't even serve coffee,” he snickered.

“I'm not just gonna ditch the job,” Sam protested.

“Honestly, Dean, me neither,” you said.

Dean shook his head. “Fuck the job. Fuck it. I'm sick of the job anyway. I mean, we don't get paid, we don't get thanked. The only thing we get's bad luck.”

“Well, come on, dude, you're a hunter. I mean, it's what you were meant to do,” the younger brother said.

“Ah, I wasn't meant to do anything, I don't believe in that destiny crap.”

Sam tilted his head. “You mean you don't believe in my destiny.”

“Yeah, whatever,” the older brother mumbled.

“Look, Dean, I've tried running before. I mean, I ran all the way to California and look what happened. You can't run from this. And you can't protect me,” Sam continued.

Dean looked at him significantly. “I can try.”

Sam’s puppy dog eyes stared back at him. “Thanks for that,” he said quietly. “Look, Dean, I'm gonna keep hunting. I mean, whatever is coming, I'm taking it head-on, so if you really want to watch my back, then I guess you're gonna have to stick around.”

“Bitch,” Dean grumbled.

“Jerk.”

You giggled at the brothers. “You guys are breakin’ my heart up there. You gonna hug or somethin’?”

“Shut up, (Y/N),” both brothers chided.

You laughed again.

Dean noticed Sam fiddling with his phone again. “You calling that Ava girl again? You sweet on her or something?”

“She's engaged, Dean.”

“So? What's the point in saving the world if you can't get a little nookie once in a while, huh?”

“Ew, Dean,” you grimaced.

Dean smirked lasciviously at you in the rearview mirror. You rolled your eyes, holding back a smile.

Sam hung up the phone, scowling in thought.

“What?” you asked.

He sighed. “Just a feeling. How far is it to Peoria?”

***

When you arrived— well, broke and entered— at Ava Wilson’s house, you were horrified by what you found. A man was lying face-up on the bed, clothes, sheets, and hair soaked in blood.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out.

“Hey,” Dean called from the window sill. “Sulfur. Demon's been here.”

You caught sight of something on the floor and picked it up. It was an engagement ring. You held it up to Sam.

His reply was one whispered word: “Ava.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[graceslcver]

all da ladies love leo valdez ! leo x daughter of poseidon!reader

｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ in which, leo has a crush on yet another girl that’s beyond his league, percy’s sister … and his friends flame him for not being able to confess his feelings!

— this is set in like… university ?? obviously jason doesn’t die…hope u enjoy my first ever fic on here!! might be ooc, soz🫐 also jeyna is a thing…. sorry not sorry!! 🤓😂 (it’s actually not even relevant to this story, but i thought i’d let u know…)

IMSG, “THE LOST HOES 🫤” July 4th, 2024

beauty queen

do yall ever wonder how it’s impossible to not pull hoes

like it sounds like a real SKILL issue

superman

who are you talking about, pipes?

beauty queen

who do u think I’m talking about???

the only mfo who doesn’t have a gf???

do NOT play dumb jason grace

latino elf

oh wow

talking shit in the gc is crazzyyy

superman

i wasn’t!

she was.

beauty queen

do not make me pull up our private messages

latino elf

i see how it is…..

😔 it’s always the bitches u think u can trust…

superman

ok

beauty queen

why is he the driest man alive

this why we didn’t last ong😭

latino elf

or maybe because ur lebanese ???

superman

she’s cherokee huh

wait is that supposed to say lesbian?

latino elf

isn’t that what it says…

beauty queen

💀💀

ok… anyway can we talk about the fact that leo has

been madly in love with y/n since like… forever???

latino elf

no thanks

didn’t ask

not true

lying on my name

superman

yeah yeah whatever helps you sleep at night

beauty queen

he’s down bad shhh

latino elf

OHHH GODDD 😭😭😔😔😔

ok so what if i like her shes so fine

and so nice and sooo mermaid 🧜‍♀️

beauty queen

she is very fine and very nice

and yes she’s very mermaid

superman

we all know he isn’t going to say

anything to her, though, right??

latino elf

hahaha 😂 wdym 😂

i’d tell her if percy weren’t her brother

superman

that didn’t stop you from trying to

flirt with MY sister though???????

latino elf

yeah that’s different tho

she COULDNT go out with me

beauty queen

not like she wanted to anyway

latino elf

gtfo

anyway i don’t plan on telling her that

i have any slight interest in her! 😎

superman

you should though

bet she likes you too

beauty queen

don’t feed into his delusions

superman

gosh pipes, pipe it down a notch

latino elf

fr listen to my bro ‼️

how would i even tell her dawggg

WHAT IF she rejects me 🤨 BOOM FRIENDSHIP GONE

superman

yeah i guess so

but yolo ???

latino elf

yolo my ass bro😒

superman

ok sorry for trying to help

beauty queen

this why she dont want u

latino elf

yeah nd thats why yo relationship was a LIE 🤣

superman

😐

beauty queen

🖕🏼

latino elf

lol ur mad

ok bye u guys are a snooze fest 😴

beauty queen

go talk to ur gf

latino elf

i will, beauty queen 🫡

IMSG, “Y/N 🦈” July 4th, 2024

leo 🛠️

hey hey mermaid

y/n 🦈

hi leo !

whats up :)

leo 🛠️

the sky duh

nothing much tho, just chilling in my dorm

u should totally pull up

y/n 🦈

we’ll see 🧐

i’m in the library rn

leo 🛠️

nerd alert ‼️

y/n 🦈

ok but when u fail our exams dont come crying

leo 🛠️

if it were math/science i would be resting peacefully

but no fr i did study, trust 🙏🏼

y/n 🦈

not that u needed it though

you’re smart enough

leo 🛠️

wowie thanks mermaid

da ladies wish they had my smarts

y/n 🦈

🤨🤨

leo 🛠️

sorry that came out SO wrong 😭

y/n 🦈

ok ok well pull up to the library

perhaps i need ur smarts

leo 🛠️

si señora

will be there in a few 😎

shark_girl • 2h

send message ♡ ➣

pipermstealer replied to your story

omg he wants uuu 😳😳🤣😂

shark_girl

why are u insane

😅😅😅

pipermstealer

i am not insane he wants u

what boy willingly wants to study w a girl

shark_girl

one that’s my friend???

pipermstealer

friend my ass bro

he wanna kiss u so bad…

matching usernames??? THE MAAAN WANTS UU 😭

shark_girl

be fr we’ve had them since we were

like fifteen 🙄🙄

pipermstealer

bro get out I’m actually DONE

u have to wake up queen 😭🙏🏼

IMESSAGE, PIPER & JASON July 5th, 2024

pipes 🌸

i am so SO DONE with yn

jason ⚡️

why

pipes 🌸

bc she’s convinced that leo don’t want her

jason ⚡️

i think its very obvious

do you think yn wants leo thats the real question

pipes 🌸

ABSOLUTELY ?????

she has extreme heart eyes for him

but she’s better at hiding it

jason ⚡️

wait are you being serious

NO WAY

NO WAY??

a girl out of his league actually wants him 🤨

piper 🌸

wait I thought u knew???

jason ⚡️

uhm no

she must be good at hiding it

piper 🌸

or boys are just dense

jason ⚡️

ok well…….

we have to get them together

cause I’m so tired of hearing leo ramble abt her

piper 🌸

ok well i’m tired of yn too

how do we get them together

jason ⚡️

uh I don’t know?????

now why would you think I know

aren’t YOU the daughter of aphrodite

maybe YOU should know 😒

pipes 🌸

someone’s mad

but i don’t know?

one of them has to say something eventually….

jason ⚡️

no way, leo would never… not too sure about yn though.

leo cares too much about their friendship

and he is convinced she only sees him as a friend

and he’s deathly afraid to ruin their friendship

pipes 🌸

why do we have dumb friends

why can’t THEY SEEEE

jason ⚡️

yeah it’s very annoying

man, maybe we shouldn’t interfere?

let them figure it out themselves

pipes 🌸

unless u want leo to date the first girl

who gives him the opportunity to date her,

i think we SHOULD interfere! not a lot just a tiny bit 🤏🏼

jason ⚡️

well i guess you have a point… but how?

pipes 🌸

OK hear me out fr

u share a dorm with leo, yeah?

he always leaves his phone unattended

go into twt and make sure he isnt logged into his private account

jason ⚡️

where is this headed

pipes 🌸

ok shut up

OK but make sure hes on the main

since he always talks about her on his priv

so if yn sees a tweet about her then

SHES GOTTA KNOW

jason ⚡️

FIRST OF ALL thats an invasion of privacy

SECOND OF ALL what if she doesn’t see it before

leo realizes that wasn’t tweeted on his private account

pipes 🌸

no she like stalks his twitter so she’ll see!

and uhm so what if it’s an invasion of privacy

he’ll thank us once he gets the girl of his dreams 🙄

jason ⚡️

ok then….

i’ll do it

but if this backfires i was not apart of it

pipes 🌸

yeah yeah whatever

i’ll take the blame

FIVE DAYS LATER, TWITTER!

IMSG, “THE LOST HOES 🫤” July 10th, 2024

latino elf

HOLY SHIT

HOLY SHIT

IM JUMPING OFF THE NEAREST CLIFF

it was so nice knowing u two

superman

don’t kys ur so sexy haha

what happened though

latino elf

i accidentally tweeted something

about yn.

on my main.

superman

hey man, maybe she didn’t see?

beauty queen

yeah she probably didn’t

latino elf

yeah u guys are RIGHT 😅

she DIDN’T SEE IT!!!

beauty queen

mhm

latino elf

you’re being oddly quiet…

beauty queen

sorry????? IM BUSY

latino elf

yeah huh

superman

you’re crazy

latino elf

oh my god i’m gonna throw up

my friend ship is over with her

she messaged meEEE

HELPPPP

superman

MESSAGE HER BACK???

GO GO GO GOOO BRO

latino elf

no i’m leaving her on delivered

beauty queen

i swear to gods if u don’t message her

jason and i WILL jump you 😭😭

superman

exactly!!

latino elf

it was so nice being her friend 🫤

beauty queen

BRO STFU AND READ HER MESSAGE???

latino elf

ok fine

bye…..

IMSG, “Y/N 🦈” July 10th, 2024

y/n 🦈

leo did u mean to tweet that?

leo 🛠️

tweet what 🤨

y/n 🦈

you know what I’m talking about

you’re not stupid

leo 🛠️

you’re crazy

i got hacked by

jason

y/n 🦈

you’re crazier for thinking I’d believe you

so… u did mean to?

leo 🛠️

i don’t want to ruin our friendship

please don’t let this ruin it

you’re my bestest friend

y/n 🦈

gosh let me talk

i thought you didn’t like me

so i never said anything…?

but i like you, leo. i really do

leo 🛠️

oh my god

are you serious

wait i’m going to your dorm

y/n 🦈

what??

Delivered

Leo looked at his phone for a good second and then left it on his bed, unattended. he ran to your residence hall— it didn’t matter to him that it was quite literally on the other side of campus. he needed to hear you say the words he had been waiting to hear since he was fifteen. he’d always had a slight crush on you, mostly off and on.

But during the summer, he had fallen for you even harder than he thought he could. he never thought that he could love someone as much as he loved you. anyway, he was practically dying as he ran to your dorm! his hair was disheveled, and he was panting a bit. he wasn’t sure if he was sweaty because he was nervous, or because he had just ran to get to your dorm.

He knocked on your door three times.

You jumped out of your bed. you felt like throwing up from how nervous you were. you quickly slid on your slippers, and looked in the mirror before you opened the door for him. (making the poor boy wait). you adjusted your hair, making sure it sat right.

You took a deep breath before opening the door. you almost didn’t, but a voice in your head was telling you that you’d be an idiot if you didn’t open the door. your hands gripped the doorknob, and then unlocked it. leo was practically dying because you were taking years to open the stupid door. you finally opened it, getting met by a disheveled-sweaty-flushed leo valdez.

“Hi.” he croaked out, his voice cracking slightly. he felt like he was on fire, literally. he wanted this to be over with! well, no, that’s a lie. he just wanted to be your boyfriend already.

“…Hi.” you answered, your voice was quiet. you had an awkward smile on your face. you were praying that you would just drown at this moment. you’d much rather enjoy that than this.

He cleared his throat, and finally spoke after a long minute of awkward silence. The two looked at each other “I really… really like you. I.. Uh.. You obviously know that already, but I wanna tell you in person?” he said, nodding along with his own words. his hands went to fumble with the hem of his shirt, anxiously waiting for your response.

“I really like you, too.” You replied. you didn’t feel as nervous as anymore when he started to talk. you felt your face getting hotter, and your smile getting bigger. he grinned at you like an idiot.

He thought that he was dreaming when you said you liked him. The start of something. “Really?” He asked, just wanting to hear you say it again. He couldn’t help but grin like an idiot. He thought never in a million years that you’d ever like him! You were totally out of his league. you were so awesome, so pretty, and so sweet.

You nodded again, rolling your eyes. “Yes, really.”

THREE MONTHS LATER… INSTAGRAM!

shark_girl

🎶 let the light in : lana del rey (feat. father john misty)

Liked by percysbeth, lava_boy, pipermstealer, and 122 others

shark_girl happy three million years with my boy!!! i love u so so so much leo 🫶🏼🫶🏼

tagged: lava_boy

View all 16 comments

lava_boy who is that sexy man in the 2nd slide

→ shark_girl idk i found him at the store……

lava_boy we’re literally like this 🤞🏼👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

lava_boy te quiero !!

→ shark_girl 🤍🤍

lava_boy ugh why do we literally solo everyone in new rome

→ shark_girl ntm on percabeth !!!!

→ percysbeth 🫡🫡

pipermstealer yeah you’re welcome 🥱

→ supermantaylorsversion i did all the work

→ pipermstealer i gave u the idea

→ lava_boy thank u jason 😒 thank u piper 🙄

→ pipermstealer i hope she leaves u

→ shark_girl woah guys no need to say that

percysbeth i support 🤫 (pls cook for me leo)

→ lava_boy on it 😎

lava_boy

🎶 ivy : frank ocean

Liked by supermantaylorsversion, shark_girl, and 98 others

lava_boy I would like to thank poseidon for being a father to my wonderful girlfriend of THREE DECADES 😎

tagged: shark_girl

View all 19 comments

shark_girl I THOUGHT THAT I WAS DREAMIN’ WHEN U SAID U LOVEEEE MEEE 😭😭😭

→ lava_boy the start of nothin 🦈

shark_girl i’m taylor lautner

→ lava_boy FORREAL

shark_girl hi bf 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

→ lava_boy hello girlfriend.

→ shark_girl 😭😭😭

pipermstealer no because you guys are actually cute

→ lava_boy ACTUALLY cute 🤨

→ pipermstealer what do u want me to say yall are actually ugly

→ shark_girl pipe it down a notch 😔

supermantaylorsversion he’s a romantic now

→ lava_boy erm i’ve always been one get out 🤓

percysbeth no cause yn has actually dressed up as a shark

→ lava_boy send pics or it didn’t happen

→ percysbeth check imsg

→ shark_girl i thought that was PRIVATE

→ lava_boy LMFAOO U LOOKED SO GOOFY

→ shark_girl you’re done….

｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ hello….. first smau done 😎 hopefully u really like this bc i died ten times whilst making it !!! uhmm pls lmk what you thought about it 🥲!!! i was sort of rushing at the end, so umm.. shhh 🤫…. @thelostheroo @amoosarte

also i will have a master list soon….???? (hopefully) and my requests are OPEN! so, plsplsplspls request…. con amor, mo!

[anthurak]

Okay, so here’s a Salem theory I’ve recently come up with that ties into an aspect of her character that I feel has been largely under-explored:

The fact that in many respects, Salem is all too similar to RUBY.

As I’ve stated in the past in other posts, there are some very interesting similarities that can be drawn between Ruby and Salem. To the point where I think we can consider Salem to be Ruby’s true ‘evil-counterpart’ in the story. Particularly ever since the ‘Girl in the Tower’ episode of Fairy Tales of Remnant.

The Girl in the Tower showed that Salem ALSO had a great love for stories as a child, just like Ruby. And across the show, we have shown Ruby develop a number of traits and abilities much like what we have seen from Salem.

Both have built a select group of close and loyal allies, and in recent volumes, Ruby has displayed a growing talent in manipulating her enemies to gain advantage over them just like Salem. And as of the Volume 9 epilogue and Beyond, we are seeing Ruby rallying the entire world against Salem, just like Salem once did against the gods.

Heck, Ruby likely has her own equivalent to Ozma in PENNY, as recent volumes have emphasized more and more. A great warrior in green touched by magic who is tragically taken from Ruby, only to be brought back and then taken from her again.

There are even notable similarities in their physical abilities: Ruby’s Silver Eyes seem to be a power drawn from the God of Light, just like Salem’s immortality. And as I’ve theorized in other posts, recent revelations about Ruby’s semblance might mean that Ruby could potentially be just as unkillable as Salem.

It all feels like something that could very naturally build to a classic “We are not so different, you and I…” twist and exchange between Ruby and Salem.

Ultimately, I think a/the big twist and reveal about Salem that we’re eventually going to get is that she is a fallen hero. And more specifically, that she represents a fallen RUBY.

Let’s consider for a moment that we have every reason to view Jinn as an unreliable narrator when it comes to her vision in Volume 6.

And when we start looking at Jinn’s vision with the knowledge that it is almost certainly both HEAVILY skewed in favor of the God of Light and meant to paint Salem in as UNFAVORABLE light as possible, then I think we can get a much better picture of Salem in the old world.

Again, I think that the biggest and yet most natural and logical narrative twist we could see here is a big reveal that Salem was in fact absolutely a HERO, and more specifically was essentially the RUBY of her time: She united the whole world, just like Ruby is doing. All to lead humanity against a terrible threat, just like Ruby is doing.

And Salem ultimately FAILED.

Salem was able to unite humanity and lead them against the gods, only for it to all go terribly wrong. When the gods (likely Light, given both the unreliable nature of Jinn’s narration and what we learned from the Blacksmith) wiped humanity out and left Salem alive as a ‘punishment’ for her ‘insolence’ for rising up against them.

Thus does Salem represent a dark and tragic look at a Ruby who ultimately failed. And was so completely and utterly BROKEN as a result that she has eventually become twisted into a terrible villain.

And the really cool thing is; if we start looking at Salem as essentially representing a broken, fallen Ruby who has become a villain, I think this could give us an avenue to guessing just what Salem’s REAL goals truly are.

Because what might a fallen, twisted, villainous Ruby who failed to save humanity actually WANT?

Well, what if Salem actually wants to bring Old Humanity BACK?

As in, undo the destruction wrought by the gods and REMAKE her old world. And more specifically, undo her great FAILURE.

Unfortunately, Salem also views the PRESENT humanity/faunus as nothing but regrettable collateral damage or possibly even necessary sacrifices to her plan. Or just as ‘pretenders’ who are in her way.

Thus does Salem possess what seems to be a noble goal to her, yet has led her to becoming all too similar to the gods she once stood against.

And I think we can already find a couple potential hints to this. Like how in Jinn’s vision, we see that Salem at first simply wanted to rule over the ‘present’ age of humanity, and how she was overjoyed at learning that her and Oz’s children inherited their magic.

But then Oz told her about the relics, and Salem started getting IDEAS.

What if the REAL reason that Salem is after the relics is because she sees them as a way to bring back the humanity that was lost? Her humanity.

This could even give us an answer as to what Salem intends to do about the gods:

After all, Salem wouldn’t just be resurrecting just any humanity, she’d be bringing back the humanity that she united behind her. All the loyal friends, allies and followers who followed her into battle against the gods.

What if Salem intends to finish what they started?

And as to how Salem intends to prevent a repeat of what happened last time?

Well perhaps that’s what all of Salem’s hybrid experiments are for. I mean, a combination of the powers of Light in the Silver Eyes and Dark in the Grimm? What if Salem trying to figure out how to use the Brothers’ powers AGAINST them?

All in all, I feel like Salem turning out to represent a ‘Fallen Ruby’ presents a very natural way to tie together all the parallels we’ve already seen between Ruby and Salem, while also just being a great twist.

Like it’s one thing for our big villain to have some general similarities to our main heroine. It’s a whole other deal for it to turn out that at one time, this big villain was in fact JUST LIKE our main heroine. Driven by all-too-similar heroic who sought to save the world from some seemingly all-powerful threat. And showing just how our heroine could become the very thing she is fighting so hard against.

Such a twist and reveal would hit seriously hard for Ruby and co, and really solidify Salem as Ruby’s final narrative foil and true evil-counterpart. Summer showed how Ruby’s self-destructive hero-complex could ultimately break her.

Salem shows how Ruby could become all too similar to the very thing she was fighting against.

[psychedelicriot]

MONSTER X MEDIATOR Walkthrough: Red Room 001/NauseAxe_404/Your Biggest Fan

Hi, got this game DL'd just yesterday, and I'm defo frustrated since I want to see some walkthroughs ;-; Here we go, I guess? Note that this is how I got the ending through my way, pretty sure that there could've been any other way, but this is how I got mine! This would include commentaries on the ending, you might wanna skip if you don't care.

This game is still on progress, so far I've done both walkthroughs for both rooms!

TW/CW: This game contains questionable theme, bloods, explicit description of gore, and sexual assault on this route.

WILL BE UPDATED IF THE CREATOR MAKE ANOTHER UPDATE ON THE GAME! <3

If you'd like to, you can check other routes walkthrough here! Purple Room 004

For even getting to Room 001, you should know that you shouldn't run away with the money, but just enter the hotel.

Bad Ending: Overstimulated

OH MY GOD! I HAVE A FAN!!!

That's it. You're ded. This ending is basically him just being overstimulated by his emotions, even tho he already held onto his axe, therefore he lost it and just slam the axe up to your face, sha-zam. This ending could also be achieved through this:

I have a fan...?

Promise you'll write again if he leaves his room

Yes/No would still bring you back to the same route.

Why are you holding back?

Why would you die?

I do.

Bad Ending: Grape

I have a fan...?

Promise you'll write again if he leaves his room.

Yes/No would stil bring you back to the same route.

Why are you holding back? / I'll go write the story now

Why would you die?

I don't. And I'm not scared either.

That's not fear

1-I'm thrilled.

Touch him.

The ending title itself is pretty self-explanatory, but basically you just fangirl over him too much, he can't take it and he just decided to break your ribcage, slam his axe onto you, then grape you.

Bad Ending: Two Broken People

I have a fan...?

Promise you'll write again if he leaves his room

Yes/No would still bring you back to the same route.

Why are you holding back?

Why would you die?

I don't. I'm just scared.

Let's settle on...10 pages?

I can't.

Fuck you

You would love this one if you're interested in him calling you a... bitch... (Shame on you). Basically, he would degrade you, you'll degrade him back, and he actually liked it. It's hot and spicy, until you actually spit on him and say something like how he's broken beyond repair. You'll shame him for that, and FUCK THIS ROUTE IS SO AnGSTY. He'll sob while breaking you, claiming he actually knows that he's broken beyond repair, but he wants to pretend that there is any hope. sobs. Then you got what you deserve!!!! You're broken too!!!!

RED ROOM 001: PERSUASION SUCCESSFUL (1)

I have a fan...?

Promise you'll write again if he leaves his room

Yes/No would still bring you back to the same route.

Why are you holding back? / I'll go write the story now

Why would you die? / I'll go write the story now

I don't. I'm just scared.

Write the 100 pages

(You could fuck around by saying you're unable to, but remember that you need to concede at the end by saying Okay fine. Don't curse him.)

Yay, basically it's not the ending, you still need to handle the other rooms (if you haven't). Though, you basically managed to coerce him to leave the room. And you'll get his information sheet afterwards!

RED ROOM 001: PERSUASION SUCCESSFUL (2)

I have a fan...?

Promise you'll write again if he leaves his room

Yes/No would still bring you back to the same route.

Why are you holding back?

Why would you die?

I do.

That's not fear

I'm thrilled.

Leverage your safety.

You basically gaslight him into k1lling you, telling him to just banish you from existence, yadda yadda. To the point where he couldn't even be near you, so you ask him to leave.

RED ROOM 001: PERSUASION SUCCESSFUL (3)

I have a fan...?

Find out why he doesn't want to leave his room.

Yes/No would still bring you back to the same route.

Why else aren't you leaving your room? / Who's paying me to do this? (You can choose both option and would still come back to the same options-choosing)

What exactly are you?

Say please until he leaves his room. / Say it would be sooooo attractive if he left his room.

Both last option leads into the same result, but you might need to do more begging with the first one, it's cute and fun though!

[redslug]

Coloring tutorial I guess

That's my most default shading style, a hybrid of line drawing and painted shadows, and I'll tell you exactly how to get this look. But before we start, you need a weapon This is my main brush for basically anything, including line art on days when I don't feel like switching to something actually intended for inking. It's a lightly textured square brush with color variation on every stamp. Intended for Procreate but you can always just rip the alpha texture out of the file and use it for a brush in any drawing program. That out of the way, let's go. I'll use the same line art as the one in fluff tutorial. Set the line layer to ~60 or so opacity and get to blocking in the base colors of your character. The jitter brush will introduce some color variation on it's own, but changing the color occasionally will add more visual interest.

After this I add a multiply layer on top and dab orange or red in places where we might be able to see the base of the hairs or peek at the carapace underneath.

It's places where hair parts and where it's shorter. This accent color works great on joints as well. Example of the thing I'm going for in real life:

Especially visible behind the head. It's not present on every moth to be fair, but I like to add these accents even where it wouldn't make sense, just because it looks nice. Even on insects without hair. Block in the eyes and mandibles now, best if it's on separate layer.

Now, the actual funny tricks begin. If you're one of the people who only use multiply or add blend modes, stop it, get some help Understanding the math behind blend modes is gonna get you a long way. My lineart is set to subtract more often than not. I find it produces juicier and more colorful results than multiply. I want to give this picture a warm orange feeling, so the color of my lines should be the opposite - blue.

And, subtract.

Perfect, but not quite. We can push the lines to an even softer feeling. Take the line layer, copy it, invert the color and set to multiply. I then throw gaussian blur on the resulting copy and reduce opacity until the lines bleed into the surroundings just a little bit.

On to actual shading. People who shade without getting in some background first scare me, so let me throw something together real quick.

A simple gradient will also suffice for this use. We just need some information on which colors are present in the surroundings. Copy your background, bring it on top of your character layers and gaussian blur it real hard. Set it to multiply, remove all parts of the layer that go beyond the pixels of the base color layer. Adjust opacity until the character fits in the background.

Let's identify the light sources. In this case it's only the sky, but it produces two distinct colors - soft blue lighting comes from the top, slightly stronger red comes from behind. The blue light I set to exclusion blend mode because it felt most appropriate in this case. Both add and screen looked too strong to be the light coming from such dark sky.

In this lighting context the lower part of the body will receive less light that the upper part. I use the green of the bushes set to multiply to darken the bottom.

The character is surrounded by all kinds of soft light, but it can't get everywhere. It's time to add ambient occlusion, or contact shadows, for those without a 3d background. Anywhere where there is a crevice or surfaces almost touch, a soft shadow will form.

I do it on a multiply layer with a neutral gray-green color. Gray because any color light isn't really getting in there and green because the fluff is somewhat transparent and whatever light does pass through it gains a greenish hue.

Last step, red rim light from the fading sunset behind the character.

Since it's rim light I just work with normal blending mode. Setting it to add or something of the sort would make the rim light brighter than the source of the light. And it'd be odd.

And that's it. I usually throw on some post processing in Snapseed. Pull some curves, throw on a bit of grain, etc. But it's a topic for another time.

In conclusion, try to think about the environment more when shading. What route does light go through to reach where you're coloring? Did it reflect off of any colored surface? Did it pass through something transparent to gain a different hue? What color shadow would this ambient lighting produce? Go have fun with your colors now.

[machinesonix]

Somehow I have made it this long without realizing that none of the screen adoptions of Dune so much as mention the Butlerian Jihad. Like I guess it's burned into my brain so hard I sort of assumed it was part and parcel of the universe. Don't get me wrong, I think that's probably the first thing you learn if you want to dive deeper into the setting, but it still hits me like if the LotR movies showed us the big flaming eyeball tower and was like ‘Oh, that's why there are bad things, but don't worry, that's just background stuff.’ Yeah, you can understand the movie, but if the story is just like Frodo vs. The Witch King you are losing out on any of the conversation about the corruptive allure of power or theological undertones. So without further ado let's pretend this is for the benefit of interested new fans roped in by the movies and not part of my desperate attempt to silence the howling specters of literary analysis that live in my blood.

The Butlerian Jihad is an event set ~10k years prior to the events of Dune in which humanity won their freedom from the machines that they had enslaved themselves to. As a result, it is a religious taboo to create a machine that thinks like a human. That's frankly the bulk of the information presented by Frank Herbert in the text without dipping into books 7+, but whether or not those are canon is frankly an enormous can of worms, which really makes sense when you consider the size of the worms. But boy howdy, Frank loved his subtext and parallelism. Everyone has a foil character, every theme is hit from multiple angles, and Villinueve has been doing an excellent job of capturing a lot of that in repeated imagery and dialogue. The Butlerian Jihad happens off camera, but it's themes are absolutely critical to the big picture.

The Butlerian Jihad was a holy war. It was not merely a rebellion against the machines, it was a crusade against them. The prohibition against thinking machines isn't just a law, it's in the pan-universal Bible. Absolute psychopath Pieter DeVries himself claps back at the Baron for insinuating he might have a use for a computer, and this is a guy who has been hired specifically for his preternatural absence of morals. Let's hold onto that idea for a minute. 

Probably my favorite scene in the first book is the one where planetologist Liet-Kynes is dying out in the desert. As the last of his strength fades to dehydration he hallucinates conversations he had with his father concerning terraforming Arakkis for human habitability. He's told that the means are not complicated. There is already enough water on the planet, the Little Makers just have it all trapped deep underground as part of the sandworm reproductive cycle. You just need to isolate enough water to start irrigating plant life, and once it's established that'll keep the water on the surface on its own. The hard part is making sure everyone on the planet is environmentally conscious enough to foster a developing ecosystem. Nobody can drink any of that water while it's being collected, because they'll just introduce it back into the water cycle where the Little Makers are. It's going to take generations, so that sort of water discipline is going to have to go above and beyond a social convention. People need to be willing to die before they'll take a sip and compromise the plan. Ghost Dad Kynes concludes that the only mechanism in the human experience to enforce this consensus is religion. 

In the context of this whole parallelism thing, you have probably noticed that the Butlerian Jihad is not the only holy war in the narrative. Paul sees a new jihad as the only way of creating a future where humans can flourish. Now you might be saying ‘Wait now, Machines. I thought the point of Paul’s holy war was to avenge Leto and disempower established power structures by taking away the control of the spice!’ And you’d be right. The thing is, without getting into spoiler territory, Dune Messiah is not going to be about how everything just gets so much better now that Paul has destroyed the economy, government, and untold billions of human lives. This isn’t the endgame. Dude can see the future and the way he does it involves looking into the past. Paul lives in a society defined by a holy war and his goal is to redefine society. 

Putting it all together you can see what I mean about the Butlerian Jihad being essential to the themes even though the story never shows us a thinking machine or a narrative beat where the absence of computers changes the outcome. It helps us see the big picture. I’ve seen a lot of dialogue lately on whether Paul is a tragic hero or a consummate villain and I’m not here to answer that, but I am here to underline the critical detail. Paul intends to be seen as a tyrant. Just like Kynes’ hallucination says, religion is the lever to make a value stick around forever. He wants to traumatize humanity to hate chosen ones and emperors the same way the machines traumatized humanity to change them forever. The Water of Life ritual doesn’t invert his values, it lets him realize these visions of war are the means, not the ends. He is absolutely not happy about it, but this is Paul’s terrible purpose. 

[lucky-clover-gazette]

kings rising highlights & annotations

chapter 3

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

The Regent’s forces were rivers of darker red, driving inroads into their lines, mingling their armies together, like a stream of blood hitting water, then diffusing.

He killed, and it was simply that men got out of his way, or were dead.

He had grown used to something that had been temporary, like the flash of exhilaration in a pair of blue eyes for a moment catching his own. All of that tangled together inside him, and tightened, through the killing, into a single hard knot.

something about the way this is written just hits me in the abandonment issues

‘If the Prince of Vere shows himself, I will kill him.’ Nikandros half spat the words.

nik private twitter venting moment #2

The ground was wet, his legs were mud-spattered above his knees—mud in dry summer, because the ground was blood.

i don’t know man i feel like after a point you have to just be like. hey. why are we doing this again? like yeah i get that fighting in a military force can be for A Cause but unless you’re directly involved in enacting ideological change, aren’t you basically just cannon fodder

On the far side of the field, he saw the flash of embroidered red. That is how Akielons win wars, isn’t it? Why fight the whole army, when you can just—

i’m guessing the part in italics in a previous laurent line, about damen killing auguste at marlas?

He used the little name that Damen had been called as a boy; the childhood name, reserved for intimates.

the fact that is was kastor specifically asking the veretians to call him that…

Damen realised that he was on his knees, his own chest heaving like the chest of his horse.

laurent’s horse will be glad to know that damen’s horse lived. because, as we all know, they’re in love

‘Over?’ The word grated out of him. All he could think was that if the Regent still lived, nothing was over.

it is interesting how, even when he thinks laurent screwed him over (see previous chapter), damen has this uncontrollable rage towards the regent rather than laurent. i think this has more to do with the regent killing his men and trying invade his country, though. and maybe just that it’s easier to hate him than laurent. “regent = bad” is something that’s easy for damen to comprehend right now, while laurent’s whole thing is a lot more confusing and intimate

And with returning awareness, he saw as if for the first time the bodies of the men that he had killed to get to the Regent’s decoy, and beyond that, the evidence of what he had done. The field was a rutted earthworks strewn with the dead. The ground was a churned mess of flesh, ineffective armour and riderless horses. Killing ceaselessly, for hours, he had not been aware of the scale of it, of what he had caused to happen here. He saw flashes behind his eyelids, faces of the men he’d killed. Those left standing were all Akielon; and they stared at Damen as at something impossible.

damen holy shit… i guess that’s one way to reclaim your authority. and he didn’t even mean it as a sign of intimidation, he just wanted to get to the “regent.” who by the way was just some random guy RIP

‘Find the highest-ranked Veretian still living and tell them they have leave to bury their dead,’ said Damen. There was a fallen Akielon banner on the ground beside him. ‘Charcy is claimed for Akielos.’ As he rose, Damen wrapped his hand around its wooden pole and planted it in the earth.

not sure if calling it an akielion victory despite the combined forces is just customary, or intentionally out of spite. i’m leaning on the former, since it’s damen and not laurent we're talking about

The herald came cantering across the devastated landscape on a white, glossy mare with a curved neck and a high, flying tail. Beautiful and untouched, he made a mockery of the sacrifice of the brave men on the field. His banner streamed out behind him, and its blazon was Laurent’s starburst, in blue and shining gold.

here is an excerpt from a post i made while reading king’s rising for the first time:

“damen when he realizes he’s not in a slow burn romance with problematic beginnings, but a complex psychological thriller in which the smartest fictional character i have ever personally encountered has decided to make his life a living hell and also they’re in love with each other but the psychological thriller stuff is way more important to his bitchy blonde nightmare malewife and he is SO down bad and just has to deal with laurent’s mean girls 4d chess petty nonsense bc it’s enrichment for him and damen will kill anyone who gets in laurent’s way and he can’t even pick up the very very VERY clear implications of laurent’s trauma that would probably allow them to reach some kind of vulnerability equilibrium in their relationship”

on a re-read, i think this is a great time to dig into that a little more ;)

SO what i love about so much of laurent’s choices in the next few chapters is the fact that much of what he says and does is entirely petty. like, yes there’s always strategy and trauma and depth as usual, but i think it’s not denying him depth to say that he is 20 years old, this is his first love in the midst of an extremely stressful and messy situation, and despite his own wishes he cannot prevent his emotions from affecting his actions. laurent has had control over so much of the situation with damen thus far, both with the power dynamics between them as master and “slave” and the fact that damen didn’t know that laurent knew who he was. but now laurent knows that damen knows, so all of his previous and future actions are going to be under damen’s scrutiny in that context. they’re equals now, and the secrets reinforcing laurent’s prior cognitive dissonance have dissolved. that leaves laurent vulnerable (especially after being tortured and genuinely letting damen down even if by accident) and emotional compromised (he has no choice but to see damen as damianos, and with that comes all of the auguste baggage and the fact that they’ve already fallen in love and had sex under different circumstances).

all that is to say, the next few chapters are laurent’s mean girls era. he is, again, still being smart and strategic (4d chess), and his feelings are valid and his trauma is real. however, he is also just being MEAN, for the same reasons classic high school movie mean girls tend to be: he feels insecure and vulnerable about his romantic attachment to damen, stressed out by the insane amount of power he definitely should not have, and self-righteous about all the ways the world has conspired against him. regina george might have been the villain of the movie, but she was the hero of her own story. janis and cady methodically dismantled her life as a popular, powerful, and confident person. that’s why she got revenge with the burn book instead of looking inward and acknowledging her own issues, of which there were many. she had a machiavellian view of life, in which mean people always won, and so being mean in retaliation was how she could protect herself from being a victim.

that is laurent’s perspective too, for a lot of this series. we don’t know anything about regina’s backstory, or heather chandler’s (another great example), but we do know exactly why laurent has the worldview he does. he used to be sweet and it made him a victim. so he is mean to protect himself, even if that robs him of his sweetness. damen’s integrity and honor have challenged laurent’s worldview, though, and that has been the source of a lot of laurent’s slow reconsideration. but now that laurent can’t just pretend that damen isn't damianos, now that he has to accept this situation in its full interpersonal and political messiness, he isn’t nearly as inspired. laurent assumes, now that laurent has gone “mask off,” that damen will realize that laurent doesn’t deserve the love he has shown him in the past. because laurent has been mean to damen, by lying about his awareness even at the times damen thought he was being earnest and sweet. that makes damen a victim and fool—two things laurent deeply fears being, and therefore assumes everyone else also fears in themselves. two things the regent had wanted laurent to consider himself, by placing damen in his life in the first place.

therefore, in his insecurity and vulnerability and anger, as a 20 year old just experiencing his first love, as someone with a lot of power and stress who cannot waste time or energy on genuinely confronting his own flaws in good faith, laurent is gearing up to be sososososo mean to damen specifically in the next few chapters. like comedically mean. aimlessly mean. pathetically mean. on purpose. ultimately, if he must be alone (which he obviously must, says laurent's brain), laurent would rather be the villain of someone else’s story than a victim in his own. that, at least, is similar to book 1 laurent—but while he was a cat playing with a mouse in book 1, in a position to do serious damage to his opponent, now he’s more like…. a cat, slapping another cat. evenly matched, but still throwing hands. transparently insecure and pathetic, only effective in doing emotional damage in ways he doesn’t intend. damen isn’t hurt by the petty things laurent says and does, because he sees through them for what they are. he’s hurt because laurent sees them as necessary to protect himself and keep his distance, when all damen wants is to make things okay between them. which laurent would never expect, because he assumes that damen wants nothing to do with him, and would be happier and better off if they stayed apart.

basically: unstoppable force (damen's persistent caring) meets unmovable object (laurent's refusal to be genuinely cared for). the only way for this cycle to end is for damen to choose to stop, or for laurent to choose to yield. laurent will eventually make that choice, but he still has to be a huge bitch about it first. he's going to lash out at damen and challenge him to stop caring, but ultimately fail—both because damen is just built different, and because he's lowkey written as a fantasy partner for emotionally volatile people with attachment and abandonment issues.

rest assured, laurent’s genre is still psychological thriller, but it’s also now a high school drama movie. and damen is about to get a bitter taste of that, with pretty much no choice in the matter. this poor man will have to deal with laurent’s bitchy theatrics as they try to co-parent an army, and he’s already too emotionally invested and aware of laurent’s habit of lashing out when he’s in pain to genuinely fight back.

this could also be called laurent’s s1 catra era, but i’m not sure what the venn diagram of capri and she ra enjoyers looks like. to those who get it—laurent is doing what catra did at princess prom for the next several chapters, down to the “hey adora” = “hello lover.” this dynamic is very fun to read because it doesn’t overstay its welcome. it’s different from laurent in book 1, or catra in general, because it’s so clearly pathetic, damen and laurent are on the same side of the war, and damen could technically make it stop at any point. so i think it’s very very fun, while it lasts >:)

The herald reined in in front of him. Damen looked at the mare’s shiny coat, not dirt-covered, not heaving or darkened with sweat, and then at the herald’s livery, in immaculate condition, unflecked by the dust of the road. He felt it rising at the back of his throat. ‘Where is he?’

damen showed up to the prom laurent planned with him to unite their rival high schools, only to find himself dateless and laurent’s promised fancy party decorations missing. this is the moment where damen checks snapchat (i was in high school from 2013-2017) and sees everyone from vere high at their own immaculately-decorated prom, where laurent is being crowned king. little does damen know, laurent was blindsided by the vere-only prom and forced via social pressure to be there since everyone elected him prom king. they’re mad at each other for a high school drama pacing-typical period of time, and then make up when they realize the misunderstanding and reassert their dedication to each other.

laurent did still murder someone with a chair, though. but like a metal folding chair from the band room

The herald’s back hit the ground. Damen had dragged him bodily from his horse into the dirt, where he lay dazed and winded, with Damen’s knee in his stomach. Damen’s hand was around his neck.

His grip tightened before it opened enough to allow the herald to speak. The herald rolled onto his side and coughed as Damen released him. He pulled something from inside his jacket. Parchment, with two lines on it. You have Charcy. I have Fortaine. He stared at the words, written in familiar, unmistakable handwriting. I’ll receive you at my fort.

lamen hr complaint #5 (unnamed herald): ragdolling this guy over what should be impersonal, professional correspondence

also, because i can't help myself:

Fortaine eclipsed even Ravenel, powerful and beautiful, its towers high-flung, its jutting crenelles biting the sky. It rose to a sheer, impossible height and, from every vantage, it was flying Laurent’s banners. The pennants seemed to float on the air effortlessly, patterned silk in blue and gold.

WELCOME HOME, BROTHER KILLER

Rows upon rows of peaked, coloured tents were pitched on the field outside Fortaine’s walls, the sun lighting the pavilions, the banners, and the silks of a graceful encampment. It was a city of tents, and it camped a fresh, intact force of Laurent’s men, who had not fought and died through the morning. The constructed arrogance of the display was intentional. It said, exquisitely: Did you exert yourself at Charcy? I have been here examining my nails.

this is funny and i wouldn’t put it past laurent, but also i’m not sure if he like. really meant this part of it specifically to piss damen off. he was just tortured idk he probably just wanted things nice. a good part of the fun of lamen divorce era is remembering that damen’s interpretation of events isn’t necessarily accurate, and that it’s hilarious how he interprets things as petty personal slights even when they might not be. they’re both so obsessed with each other and it’s great

Nikandros reined in alongside him. ‘Uncle and nephew are alike. They send other men to do their fighting for them.’

nik tweets this verbatim on priv (#3)

Damen was silent. What he felt in his chest was a hardness like anger. He looked at the elegant silken city and thought about men dying on the field at Charcy.

but not exactly anger—betrayal? heartache? self-consciousness?

Some kind of herald’s greeting party was riding towards them. He gripped the Regent’s bloody, torn banner in his hand.

the phrase “greeting party” just made me imagine them rolling up with like confetti and a speaker blasting the celebration song. while damen holds the bloody torn banner

‘Just me,’ said Damen, and put his heels into his horse. About halfway across the field, he was met by the herald, who arrived with an anxious party of four attendants saying something urgent about protocol. Damen listened to four words of it. ‘Don’t worry,’ said Damen. ‘He’s expecting me.’

lamen hr complaint #6 (more unnamed heralds): disregarding protocol

(also “he’s expecting me” girlllll)

Without even pulling off his gauntlets, he strode to the tent. He knew its high scalloped folds; he knew the starburst pennant. No one stopped him. Not even when he reached the tent and dismissed the soldier at the entrance with a single order: ‘Go.’ He didn’t bother to see if his order was obeyed. The soldier let him through: of course he did; this had all been planned. Laurent was ready for him whether he came docilely behind the herald or, as he did now, the dirt and the sweat of the battle still on him, blood dried in the places where a cursory swipe with a cloth had not reached it. He swept the tent flap back with an arm, and stepped inside.

again i do have to question, beyond the drama, how much of this is as intentional and petty as damen thinks it is. like, the heralds literally cite protocol, damen knows this is the correct way for a camp to be run. i think he is assuming a lot here, although it’s reasonable to do so. we have seen in the past that damen assumes things of laurent that laurent is just like, “uh. not everything i do is on purpose” about, or damen is just WRONG about. i just wonder if damen’s approach here confirms things laurent was worried about (damen thinking poorly of him now that they’re on even ground), further fueling the fire of his rejection-sensitive bitchiness. not that it’s an excuse, or even undeserved, but it’s good to remember that there are two sides to the story.

like to damen, this is an angry post-battle rush of a moment to confront laurent and speak his truth (he doesn’t know laurent knows who he is), but to laurent this is like. post-torture and escape, and basically being thrown into the deep end of vulnerability with damianos and what this all implies to auguste’s memory. we’re not getting the best or most rational version of either of them right now, which is great for the drama but also makes the narration less reliable

This was the place Laurent had chosen.

right. damen thinks laurent chose this place to hear the truth about him, because the “you have charcy” note implies that at some point laurent probably figured out that damen is damianos. therefore laurent chose this occasion for them to meet each other, as they truly are by birth, for the first time. damen just doesn’t know the twist that laurent has always known who he’s been, and has chosen everything else before now with that knowledge too

There were a few furnishings, low seats, cushions, and in the background a trestle table hung with its own coverings, and set with shallow bowls of sugared pears and oranges. As though they were going to nibble at sweetmeats.

the same guy who ordered the “sorry you were given a severed head and discovered a suicide” fruit basket in prince’s gambit had to order a “sorry i gaslighted you for 2 books but not really because you also technically gaslighted me” fruit basket in kings rising

He lifted his gaze from the table to the exquisitely attired figure leaned with a single shoulder against the tent pole, watching him.

lucky number laurent lean #13!

Laurent said, ‘Hello, lover.’

It was not going to be simple.

this being the follow-up line to “hello lover” is such a good combination of funny and tension-building. like laurent’s cunty tableau immediately put out damen’s fiery righteous indignation and now he’s just like “oh this is going to suck.”

He made himself breathe through that. ‘Your men think you’re a coward. Nikandros thinks that you deceived us. That you sent us to Charcy, and left us there to die by your uncle’s sword.’ ‘And is that what you think?’ said Laurent. ‘No.’ Damen said, ‘Nikandros doesn’t know you.’

this is really a testament to pacat’s cleverness, how in chapter 1 there are a lot of moments where it’s almost like damen is directly saying he thinks laurent screwed him over—nikandros and the herald saying it and him not disagreeing, him accepting the reality that laurent is not going to show up—but he never does truly say that he thinks the abandonment was on purpose. because he didn’t, and he doesn’t, which makes sense. but he’s still angry and confused and also just concerned about how laurent is taking the “news” that he’s damianos. how much of damen’s anger about laurent’s composed appearance is projection of his anxiety about laurent seeing him as he truly is, a powerful authority figure in his own right who just won a battle against insane odds?

it’s so ambiguously written that it’s almost like pacat WANTS us to spiral. which i did, and will probably continue to do, so well-played. these books are like evil catnip to anxious overthinking theater people with attachment issues and an interest in understanding complex fictional situations to cope with the fact that real life never makes enough sense. also kinky gays but let's be real that's just a trojan horse for the other stuff

‘And you do.’ Damen looked at the arrangement of Laurent’s weight, the careful way he was holding his body. Laurent’s left hand was still casually resting against the tent pole. Deliberately, he stepped forward, and clasped Laurent’s right shoulder. Nothing, for a moment. Damen tightened his grip, and ground in with his thumb. Harder. He watched Laurent turn ashen. Finally, Laurent said, ‘Stop.’

proving that he knows laurent well enough to pick up from his posture alone exactly where he’s been injured. also they’re both so messy, like let’s put pressure on each other’s literal and figurative wounds instead of just talking about our misconceptions and feelings, awesome

He let go. Laurent had wrenched back and was clutching his shoulder, where the blue of his doublet had darkened. Blood, welling up from some newly bandaged, subterranean place, and Laurent was staring at him, his eyes oddly wide. ‘You wouldn’t break an oath,’ said Damen, past the feeling in his chest. ‘Even to me.’

damen proving to himself, and proving to laurent, that he knows that laurent didn’t screw him over, and instead was injured and failed to show up. laurent is shocked by how quickly damen picked up on this. also ow

He had to force himself back.

he doesn’t want to see laurent in pain, or know that he’s causing it :( which is especially unfortunate given the conversation they’re about to have about damen murdering laurent’s brother

Laurent didn’t answer. He still had a hand clutched to his shoulder, his fingers sticky with blood. Laurent said, ‘Even to you?’

“you wouldn’t break an oath, even to me” (“even to me” being a sort of freudian slip, meaning “i killed your brother, and i’ve known that this whole time and i haven’t told you, and you have a good reason to hate me for that”) “even to you?” (to damen’s incomplete understanding: “well i know who you are now, and if i’d known before i would have broken every oath to you i’ve ever made”)

He made himself look at Laurent. The truth was an awful presence in his chest.

babygirl it’s about to get so much awfuller

He thought of the single night they had spent together. He thought of Laurent, giving himself, dark-eyed and vulnerable, and of the Regent, who knew how to break a man.

damen totally sees laurent as his “victim” right now, set up well by him re-opening laurent’s physical wound. damen fucked this man while knowing that he (damen) killed his (laurent’s) brother, and put trust in him. if they were normal, or this was a normal story, that’s where the confrontation would end. it would be that simple—damen didn’t mean to hurt laurent but still did, and laurent has to forgive him for that, and forgive himself for being fooled—and then it would get tearfully resolved because they love each other so much that it doesn't matter. but they are not normal, and this is not a normal story, so…

Outside, two armies were poised to fight. The moment was here, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He remembered the Regent’s constant suggestion: Bed my nephew. He had done that, wooed him, won him. Charcy, he saw, hadn’t mattered to the Regent. It hadn’t meant anything. The Regent’s real weapon against Laurent had always been Damen himself.

damen thinks the regent’s plan had been to weaken laurent by putting him in circumstances where he’d unknowingly make himself vulnerable with his brother’s killer, triggering him emotionally and destroying his judgment. i'm pretty sure that this was basically his intention, but had also made sure that it would also torture laurent even if he did recognize damen on the spot.

personally i think the regent knew that laurent knew in book 1 through observing his reaction, but had planned for both possibilities in advance. what he hadn't expected, though, was for laurent and damen to start genuinely working together instead of against each other. this happens early as the thing with patras, and really pops off during the botched assassination attempt.

charcy was meant to drive a wedge between them, to correct the regent's previous miscalculation. and given the inevitable truth damen must now reveal, there's nothing he can really do to stop laurent from being upset.

‘I’ve come to tell you who I am.’ Laurent was so keenly familiar, the shade of his hair, the strapped down clothing, the full lips that he held tense or cruelly repressed, the ruthless asceticism, the unbearable blue eyes. ‘I know who you are, Damianos,’ said Laurent. Damen heard it, as the interior of the tent seemed to change, so that all of the objects in it took on a different shape. ‘Did you think,’ said Laurent, ‘I wouldn’t recognise the man who killed my brother?’

the way i YELLED during my first read. i remember even like posting something before, like “oh my god damen just tell him put this poor man out of his misery,” and then after i got to this part i immediately went and deleted that post

Each word was an ice chip. Painful, sharp; a shard. Laurent’s voice was perfectly steady.

do you think he practiced this?

‘I knew in the palace, when they dragged you in front of me,’ said Laurent. The words continued, steady, relentless. ‘I knew in the baths when I ordered you flayed. I knew—’

he definitely practiced this

‘At Ravenel?’ said Damen.

“you knew when you kissed me and let me fuck you????”

‘If you knew,’ said Damen, ‘how could you—’ ‘Let you fuck me?’ His own chest hurt, so that he almost didn’t notice the signs of it in Laurent, the control, the face, pale at any time, now white.

he almost didn’t notice the signs, which means he still totally did. because even now, damen is attentive and caring towards laurent

‘I needed a victory at Charcy. You provided it. It was worth enduring,’ Laurent spoke the terrible, lucid words, ‘your fumbling attentions for that.’

LIARRRRRRR

It hurt so much it took the breath from his throat. ‘You’re lying.’ Damen’s heart was pounding. ‘You’re lying.’ The words were too loud. ‘You thought I was leaving. You practically threw me out.’ He said it, as the realisation blossomed inside him. ‘You knew who I was. You knew who I was the night we made love.’

tbh i think this kind of realization would make me have a panic attack on the spot. also do you think this is the kind of betrayal he’s been trying so hard to avoiding confronting, coming from kastor and jokaste? but here he has no choice to confront it, because laurent is forcing him to understand the depths of the deception. no avoiding it now

He thought of Laurent surrendering, not the first time, but the second, the slower, sweeter time, the tension in him, the way he had— ‘You weren’t making love to a slave, you were making love to me.’

very true, but laurent isn’t ready to deal with it. he can’t keep up the cognitive dissonance in the present, but that doesn’t mean he’s about to accept that it was real in the past. instead he’ll just lash out.

And he couldn’t think that through clearly but he could catch a glimmer of it, a glimmer of the edge of it. ‘I thought you wouldn’t, I thought you’d never—’

OF COURSE damen suspected, at some points, that laurent knew. but this tells us that he’d ultimately dismissed the notion because it would have been insane for laurent to kiss and fuck him, while knowing his real identity. “i thought you wouldn’t, i thought you’d never—“

this is similar to how i thought about it during my first read—i suspected for all of book 1, and some of book 2, but then figured that the story was taking a different direction because how the hell could the plot points of “laurent knows who damen is” and “laurent makes himself vulnerable to damen and does a romance/sex about it” possibly be compatible? laurent, a deeply traumatized and self-protective person, wouldn’t and would never. except i underestimated laurent’s capacity for self-delusion, and overestimated the amount of control he truly has over his emotions and impulses, beneath all the posturing. damen, here, is recognizing that he’s made similar miscalculations, and now he’s seeing laurent as he truly is. they’re both seeing each other, truly, for the first time.

‘Laurent, six years ago, when I fought Auguste, I—’ ‘Don’t you say his name.’ The words were forced out of Laurent. ‘Don’t you ever say his name, you killed my brother.’

i like the simplicity of this. just the plainness of “you killed my brother.” laurent’s language is so often clever and cagey and embellished, but that last sentiment is raw and informal, and what we the reader are probably screaming in our heads. because yeah, holy shit, damen killed laurent’s brother. it’s a pretty hard thing to argue against, or ignore. “you lied to me” “you killed my brother” “you flogged me” “you killed my brother” “you forgot to do the dishes” “you killed my brother”

Laurent was breathing shallowly, almost panting as he spoke, his hands rigid on the edge of the table behind him.

his practiced words are saying one thing, but his body is very obviously having a panic attack. this scene isn’t nearly as much of a laurent mean girl moment as it seemed during a rushed first read. that’s actually kind of a relief to me, bc it made me sad to interpret him as so heartless and unfazed the first time around. even if “hello lover” is an iconic moment, it’s a performance more than anything else. and pacat shows us this sooner than i recalled or first perceived. she’s not torturing us, the reader, as much as she’s torturing both damen and laurent. and it’s not even like a lazy misunderstanding kind of torture, this is genuinely complicated and they’re both in the wrong and they both are justified in this pain and hurt. i just couldn’t see that as well the first time, having binged like all of book 2 already and having no idea what would happen next and honestly just being shocked and betrayed and compelled by the massive mislead with laurent’s awareness of the situation

‘Is that what you want to hear, that I knew who you were and I still let you fuck me, my brother’s killer, who cut him down like an animal on the field?’

you know he doesn’t, laurent, that’s just what you’re telling yourself now that you’re forced to confront it. you started this scene with “hello lover” and your prepared speech, hoping to destroy damen emotionally, but once again you’ve just kinda played yourself. maybe just cool it with the emotional gambits for now, when it comes to damen, bc they only really seem to come back and hurt you (oh fuck he can’t hear me)

‘Shall I ask you how you did it? What he looked like when your sword went in?’ ‘No,’ said Damen.

laurent, shaking, pale, looks like he’s about to pass out: “you bastard, tell me about how you murdered my brother as i think about the fact that i let you fuck me in a similar way, go ahead just make it hurt more”

damen, not a therapist but still emotionally intelligent enough to know this isn’t really about punishing him: no, i don’t think i will. can you like sit down

‘Or shall I tell you about the illusion of the man who gave me good counsel. Who stood by me. Who never lied to me.’ ‘I never lied to you.’

that italicized “i” is interesting. is it an accusation of laurent’s own lying and hypocrisy, or a specification that damen never directly told laurent he wasn’t damianos? given damen’s well-established integrity, i’m guessing it’s the first option. again with the mutual moral arbitration. and damen wouldn’t want to take such a weak a cop-out as “well i never technically said it,” it’s just not typical of his character.

The words were awful in the silence that followed them. ‘“Laurent, I am your slave”?’ said Laurent. He felt the breath forced out from his lungs.

of course laurent takes it as the second option, though, and implies that by swearing himself to laurent and then bedding him damen was directly lying about his identity. because to laurent, damen =/= damianos. a slave can’t be a prince. so damianos, the prince, must have been intentionally lying about being damen, the slave. and that’s actually easier, and less painful, and less complicated to accept than any kind of nuanced alternative.

‘Don’t,’ he said, ‘talk about it like—’ ‘Like?’ ‘Like it was cold-blooded; like I controlled it. Like we didn’t both close our eyes and pretend I was a slave.’ He made himself say the exposing words. ‘I was your slave.’

he’s right. nothing much to add here. damen wasn't just literally laurent's slave, he had devoted himself emotionally as well, and he's admitting it here despite the fact that it makes him vulnerable—something laurent is too much of a (traumatized, understandable) coward to do himself. i love damen's characterization so much

‘There was no slave,’ said Laurent. ‘He never existed. I don’t know what manner of man stands before me now. All I know is that I am facing him for the first time.’ ‘He is here.’ His flesh ached as if he had been prised open. ‘We are the same.’

this gives us some insight to laurent’s actions in book 1—not necessarily excusing them, but making them fit better into what we’ve since learned about his moral code. it ties things together, which isn’t the same as making them simpler or easier to like. pacat is very very VERY good at establishing continuous moral ambiguity in her characters, and does not rush the slow burn of making ends meet. so when she does eventually begin to connect things, it’s satisfying, because it hasn’t been all been spelled out the whole time so readers don’t have to think for themselves. this, in reference to a lot of the series’s more problematic themes, is exactly why i think people end up seeing capri as apologism or glamorization. but by claiming that, i also think they’re exposing themselves as impatient, shallow, and (sorry) simply lazy.

but i don't just want to be reductive and uncharitable, because that would be shallow and lazy too. to be perfectly clear, i honestly can't blame people for disliking this series, and not being willing or able to have patience and understanding for its more problematic elements. this series is marketed as romance/erotica. it started as indulgent kink fic. it ended up evolving into its current state during its development—and i'm really glad it did, but that doesn't change the fact that so much of its marketing and premise imply certain things that it doesn't quite deliver. and if you look up the series today, as it's still being published years after its completion, it's still marketed in a way i find somewhat misleading. to the extent that when i picked it up, it was in an intentional attempt to expand my own horizons—i wanted to challenge myself with indulgent shameless problematic porn/romance, as opposed to the weak-ass "enemies" to lovers running rival bakeries gay romance novels with canva covers that haven't worked for me in the past. the logic was basically, "well, if i don't like romance on that side of the scale, maybe i'll like the opposite extreme, or at least learn more about what i don't like." and i did feel pretty challenged during book 1, to the point that for a while i only kept reading out of morbid curiosity and vague horniness rather than any genuine expectation of depth or satisfying storytelling. it was only around the assassination scene in book 1 that i started to see the book as something capable of more depth and intrigue than just like kinky debauchery, and it pretty much just snowballed from there. and as someone who frequently reads about these dark topics in other genres and contexts, i was familiar enough with the things happening on the page to at least stomach them and push foward.

however, if i was coming at the series from a different place—like if i loved cozy romance and had very little familiarity with reading about these topics—i can see the first book especially being very blindsiding and distressing, and not wanting to engage with it further. that's not laziness, it just means that the book wasn't for me.

and the nuance doesn't end there. one of the things i love most about this series is that, even if i was just looking for shameless slavekink porn and decidedly did not want to rise to the occasion of depth or thematic exploration, i would also walk away unsatisfied. because the truly problematic shit in these books is not shameless at all, and indulgence never comes without a cost. there are a few distasteful moments that make me roll my eyes, and the garden scene definitely prompts a Conversation—but as a whole, i think pacat is very aware of the moral implications of these themes. and i also think she's perfectly aware of the fact that many people get off on them.

this series almost feels like an accidental study of, like, the psychological implications of being a person compelled by dub-con and problematic kink, finding a sort of gratification in situations where those things ar kind of inevitable (like they are for damen in book 1). AND this is made even more complicated and brave by the fact that laurent is, very relevantly, a victim of serious sexual assault. like, as hot as some of the scenes in this book are, i really don't think it makes itself easy for people to just uncritically get themselves off to. it doesn't encourage shame, but it does encourage introspection. and a lot of people simply don't read erotica and romance to introspect. (couldn't be me though. if it isn't clear, i love the laurent of vere "having insane mindfucking sex fully clothed across the room" approach to eroticism).

i feel like it's actually kind of funny that i specifically got here, as a person who almost always reads books that force dark introspection, and assumed that this erotica/romance book would be mindless, but ended up with gestures vaguely instead. for me, coming across this series and realizing what it truly is was an incredibly happy accident. but for others, i completely understand how it could be the exact opposite, and it's not lazy or shallow to realize that you misunderstood what you were getting yourself into and step away.

what is lazy and shallow, though, is to either DNF and review based on those misconceptions, or keep reading simply to fuel your own disdain and discomfort. ultimately, i think that the true error of people who walk into capri wanting shameless porn or untroubling romance is the fact that they keep reading, even when it becomes clear that the book isn't doing that. and then they decide to evaluate the book based on expectations and standards that aren't the ones the author or fans have for the work itself. people seem to take out their anger towards the SUBJECTS of slavery or rape in fiction themselves on capri, rather then the way capri specifically portrays them. either because they fucking stopped reading the book and just wanted to go on a tangent on the topics in general, or hate-read to confirm their own pre-existing bias.

my point is, nobody has to read things that trigger or upset them, and it's okay to just pass on fictional stuff that makes you feel bad or frustrated. aspects of this series made me feel bad and frustrated, even on re-read, but i enjoy the intellectual and emotional exercise of exploring those feelings and better understanding the true meaning and purpose of the art. but there are certain topics in other works of fiction that i'm unwilling to explore, which would cause me to simply stop reading, and if asked for a review i'd just say that i'm not the right person to say. and there have been many times where i've continued reading a book, hoping it would change directions, and ended up just being like, "yeah, that wasn't for me," and moving on.

the exchange "there was no slave, he never existed" "here is here, we are the same" is almost a meta-commentary on the reception of the series as a whole. it would be dishonest to deny how this series started, and some of the themes and subjects it intentionally confronts. you can't say "there was no slave [kink], [it] never existed" because the narrative proceeded to be more of a commentary on kink rather than an uncritical display of it. kink, and dark topics in fiction in general, do all have depth, and while they might not be for everyone, they are for someone. exploring that depth is entirely optional, and i understand why people with certain experiences don't want anything to do with that exploration. but our personal tastes don't change the fact that subjects like slavery and rape exist, and that reality is inseparable from the stories that come from it. ultimately, the choice is whether we're willing to take that specific reality thoughtfully on, or else just walk away.

the people i have the hardest time with are the ones who choose neither of those options. like, what do you even get out of continuing to read something that you're unwilling to explore in good faith, or that you straight-up hate? just read something else. we only have so much time in the day. stop wasting yours, and stop wasting the time of people who actually enjoy the thing with your useless bad-faith criticism. sorry this tangent has totally departed from the chapter itself, but that really is what pisses me off so much about current-day online book culture. like, i'm thinking about all of those smug-looking booktubers making 2 hour videos called "i read [name of book that doesn't appeal to the lowest common denominator of people] so you don't have to." i know how long it takes to read books thoughtfully, and then to write, film, and edit videos. maybe stop wasting your own time and dig into something you love instead, or even try to make your own thing, and just hope that some smug asshole on the internet doesn't decide to do to your work what you've done to other people's work. but no, lazy cynicism and appealing to the easy gimmick of cringe is way more profitable, i guess. and it makes you less vulnerable to people criticizing work that came from your soul, because the work you're creating is completely soulless.

anyway. i wonder what kind of totally normal things damen and laurent are up to in the chapter i'm annotating

‘Kneel then,’ said Laurent. ‘Kiss my boot.’

"if you really are still a slave, even though we both know you’re a king, then do a demeaning slave thing right now"

He looked into Laurent’s excoriating blue eyes. The impossibility of it was like a sharp pain. He couldn’t do it. He could only gaze at Laurent across the distance between them. The words hurt. ‘You’re right. I’m not a slave,’ he said.

can’t indulge in the kink anymore by circumstantial necessity, but i’m sure they’ll find something even weirder to do instead on purpose

‘I am the King.’ He said, ‘I killed your brother. And now I hold your fort.’ As he spoke, Damen drew out a knife. He felt rather than saw all of Laurent’s attention swing to it. The physical signs were small: Laurent’s lips parted, his body tensed. Laurent didn’t look at the knife. He kept his eyes on Damen, who looked right back at him. ‘So you will parley with me as with a king, and you will tell me why you called me here.’ Deliberately, Damen tossed the knife onto the floor of the tent.

okay this is just extra of him, but i mean laurent got to do “hello lover” so damen deserves to be dramatic too as a treat. i also like what this symbolizes, as opposed to their previous knife moments. as defined by their stations, they don’t have a power imbalance anymore, and they don’t have a reason to be enemies. they are a prince and a king, not a master and a slave. they are military allies, teaming up against the regent. any power imbalance and beef they have now is emotional, complicated, and abstract, nothing clear-cut (haha) enough to be represented by an instrument of simple violence like a knife. and damen summarizes this perfectly, in the context of their previous knife moments, by viscerally reminding laurent of those encounters and then just tossing the thing across the room.

honestly, i bet laurent feels jealous of the clever performative gesture. and maybe a little turned on, too, despite the horrors. that’s a fun reversal.

‘Didn’t you know?’ said Laurent. ‘My uncle is in Akielos.’

yeah, he got a really good all-inclusive deal at the akielion sandals resort and needed a vacation after all of the murder and [redacted]

[systemrestart]

From Alison Bechdel's "Dykes to Watch Out For". Strip name "Au Courant", from 1994

I'd never seen this strip get posted, so I want others to see it. Mo, the character expressing 'concern' over the inclusion of trans women (as well as bisexuals) in lesbian culture, is often portrayed as being overly self-righteous, jumping to conclusions about others, and not critically examining her own biases and worldview. She was also the character in the comic commissioned for Transgender Warriors, where she learns she was wrong for being anxious about sharing a bathroom with a trans woman.

Mo is often either the butt of the joke, or receives a stark lesson in these interactions (whether by confrontation or just becoming socially isolated, because she's difficult to be around). And I found this framing important, especially as I've heard discussion of TERFs trying to claim Bechdel as one of them.

This comic was not made to validate Mo's opinions or feelings. The characters in Bechdel's comics are often messy, short-sighted, even bigoted. They're human. This comic does not valorize or 'condone' these flaws, merely shows them for what they are, as well as the consequences that come with them, and the effects they can have on your communities.

[Update Note: Recently learned some new things about Bechdel's feelings/choices regarding trans issues (particularly transmisogyny), link here if you're interested in reading. It seems that beyond DTWOF, Bechdel 'supports' trans people in an esoteric sort of way, but is seemingly unwilling to unpack deeper transphobic feelings/views, or her ties with TERF-aligned people. Deeply disappointing.

I don't think that impacts DTWOF itself much (except the framing of the character Janis, may make a post about that someday), as again all of the characters in DTWOF have wildly varying views, and that's The Point, but, it's something I think people ought to know if we're going to have a discussion about Bechdel in connection to TERFs and transmisogyny]

Transcript of the comic below the cut:

[ID: A "Dykes to Watch Out For" comic strip by Alison Bechdel, featuring the characters Mo and Lois. The conversation is as follows:

MO: Oh, jeez. Here's a submission for "Madwimmin Read" from someone named Jillian who identifies as a transsexual lesbian.

LOIS: Cool.

MO: The cover letter says, "I hope you'll consider changing the name of your reading series for local lesbian writers to be inclusive of transgender and bisexual women writers too." Oh, man!

LOIS: Guess it's time to get with the program, huh?

MO: What am I supposed to do? Have bi women and drag queens come in here and read about schtupping their boyfriends?

LOIS: Why not? I'm sure they'd have a unique perspective on the topic.

MO: Lois, I'm still trying to adjust to lesbians using dildos! What am I supposed to make of a man who became a woman who's attracted to women?!

LOIS: Love is a many gendered thing, pal. Get used to it.

MO: Well fine. Let people do what they want. But I'm not gonna add this unwieldy "bisexual and transgender" business to the name of my reading series. I don't even know what transgender means!

LOIS: It's sort of an evolving concept. I mean, we haven't had any language for people you can't neatly peg as either boy or girl.

LOIS: Like cross-dressers, transsexuals, people who live as the opposite sex but don't have surgery, drag queens and kings, and all kinds of other transgressive folks. "Transgender" is a way to unite everyone into a group, even though all these people might not self-identify as transgender.

LOIS: In fact, the point is that we're all just ourselves, and not categories. Instead of two rigid genders, there's an infinite sexual continuum! Cool, huh?

MO: How do you know all this stuff?

END ID]

[max1461]

What does this question even fucking mean?

I apologize to this random reddit user, who I'm about to put on blast, but this question is such nonsense and it's nonsense in a way that is extremely common, especially on r/askphilosophy (where this was posted) but also just in general, and I want to talk about it.

First of all, as the top commenter points out, a "philosopher king" is a hypothetical type of ruler discussed by Plato, not a real category of king that actually existed. But I can forgive this user for not knowing this is where the term comes from, because it's just a piece of factual knowledge that they might not have. That's fine. The reason I find this question so dumb is because, like... suppose that "philosopher king" was a real category of ruler that existed in antiquity. What the fuck would it mean? Like, did this asker ever stop to think "what question am I asking? This category that I'm inquiring about, what defines it?"? No, they did not. They just heard a term and started using it without thinking about what it actually refers to. This is the ur-problem of like 80% of all bad thinking: speaking first and figuring out what you mean by it later.

Is a "philosopher king" just a king who happens to also be a philosopher? If so, then surely you can answer your own question about the existence of "philosopher presidents" by just googling around for world leaders who happen to also have philosophy degrees or whatever; I imagine that information is easily available. But if this is what you mean by "philosopher king", then the question doesn't seem very deep or interesting, right? I mean a king is just a guy, and a president is just a guy, so of course it might be the case that sometimes these guys happen to also write philosophy.

I suppose if the question was framed this way—"are there any recent world leaders who are also philosophers?"—I wouldn't find it so silly. But the way it's phrased sort of suggests that the asker believes there's some kind of like, underlying pattern they're noticing, or deeper meaning they can ascribe to this. Like a "philosopher king" is some special ontological category of ruler, beyond just "king who also happens to have written philosophy", and so the existence or not of "philosopher presidents" is like a fascinating and puzzling topic to ponder instead of just an incidental question about whether any world leaders who use the title "president" also happen to do philosophy.

Right? Do you see what I'm saying? It's like this user heard king Solomon or whatever the fuck referred to as a "philosopher king" once, and didn't even bother to try to parse what that means. Just went "I guess there's a special type of king called a philosopher king, I know this piece of information know". It's like an abdication of actually thinking about what anyone is saying to you.

Of course I'm inferring wildly based on a small amount of information here, but this is the general type of error that I see all the time, so I'm not really concerned with being appropriately epistemically cautious about whether this exact thing is what lead this user to ask their dumb question on r/askphilosophy. I'm riffing on this guy's question to articulate a broader point, and pattern matching it to a common thinking error.

I will say, though, r/askphilosophy seems to attract people who say shit that is dumb in exactly this way (as opposed to all the other ways you can be dumb), and so this has served me well as model for what these people are doing wrong.

Anyway, this is actually the root cause, one suspects, of the asker's knowledge gap that I mentioned at the beginning of the post. A "philosopher king" is not in fact some special category of king that really existed, but an idea discussed by Plato in the Republic. It's fine that this person doesn't know this, but if they had tried to figure out what "philosopher king" actually means before saying it, they probably would have learned this fact.

If I could give one piece of advice to everyone on Earth and have them really take it seriously, it would probably be "think about what you mean before your say it".