#thinking sam would also be there at some points.

[journalofimprobablethings]

I think the thing about your first response that is provoking knee-jerk reactions (at least, it did for me) is that it implies that character death's only purpose in fiction is to "maximize pain" for the readers, and that any other purpose it might serve can be found through other means. And I don't think that's true at all.

To a certain extent I agree with the OP commenter that it's not necessary to kill a character simply for 'emotional impact' or 'realism'. If an author's main goal with a character death is just to "inflict maximum pain" on the reader, then that's probably not very good writing, and not "necessary". The death needs to do more than just hurt the reader; it should affect the story in some way, either in how other characters react to the death, or how events change because of it.

But I also agree with friskdaferret's argument that some character deaths are necessary for the story that the author is trying to tell. That's the key. Could they choose to write it a different way? Sure. They're the author, it's their story, it's all made up. But then it would be a different story.

I know that you consider the Holes argument to be a bit of a tangent, but for the sake of using an example that's already been brought up, Sam's death in Holes serves a particular purpose in the story. It reflects real-world racism in a very direct way: black men being lynched for having a relationship with a white woman (or after being accused of assaulting/touching a white woman, whether they did or not) is a real fact of American history. It's an ugly fact, and it's something that Louis Sacher decided was important to include in the story. For some kids reading that book, it may even have been their first exposure to that sort of racism. Having Sam leave Kate for other reasons, as you suggest, would change the story, and would make a different point. It's not the story Louis Sacher was trying to tell.

Your argument, if I understand correctly, is that sometimes, the potential pain inflicted on a reader who is very attached to the character might outweigh an author wanting to make a particular point or tell a particular story. How then, do we handle telling stories that are inherently about painful topics? What is the "utilitarian calculus" as it relates to a story like Orpheus and Eurydice which is about grief; or tragedies like Hamlet?

I also think that if you're going to make that argument, you have to consider the other side - that is, what benefit do those deaths, as written, bring to readers? Why has the author included it in the story? What do people get out of it? That answer is going to be different for different readers and stories, but there is a reason that death has been such a prominent trope in human storytelling since forever. Death and grief are inherent, immutable facts of life, and so storytellers are going to find ways to engage with and examine it.

Two examples that came to mind while I was thinking about this post were The Fault in Our Stars by John Green and Babel by R.F. Kuang. Both of those books contain absolutely devastating moments of loss in connection with characters we have become very close to as readers. I don't think I've ever cried as hard at a story as I cried at those two books in particular.

Both of those stories would not be what they are, or say what they wanted to say, if those deaths didn't happen. They are a book about cancer and a book about imperialism and the violence it engenders, respectively. Both those topics are impossible to handle without at least talking about death.

Now, would I give people a warning before I recommend those books to them? Absolutely, because it's the sort of thing you probably want to be in the right headspace for. But do I think that those books should have been written differently, just because the stories were painful? Absolutely not.

I don't know that I agree with any sort of utilitarian argument about the potential effect of a character death on readers vs its function in the story, in part because that sort of thing is impossible to quantify. How would you ever possibly judge what was "too much"? It's entirely subjective, and in the end, authors do not have control over what a reader's reactions to their story will be.

I also think that to a certain extent, readers are responsible for their own reading experience. If a person does not want to encounter painful moments in their reading, that is their responsibility to tailor their reading accordingly. If they as a reader know they are prone to making deep connections with characters such that it might genuinely hurt them if that character then dies, they can take steps to avoid those sorts of stories, or to use sites like doesthedogdie.com to check whether a story has something that they don't want to/can't engage with. But it's not an author's responsibility to tailor their story so that it doesn't make anyone sad. That's not the point of fiction.

Fiction is a reflection of life, and a way for us as humans to examine and process all aspects of it, including the aspects that hurt, that are awful, the parts that don't make sense. It's perfectly valid for someone to not want to engage with challenging fiction, but to say that authors shouldn't be writing it at all because it might somewhere cause someone grief? I can't agree with that.

im starting to think you guys dont like it when stories make you feel things

[sillylotrpolls]

(Credit and a truly absurd amount of context below the poll in case you don't know who the Old Took is.)

Today's poll looks at a question posed by @sindar-princeling:

Bilbo barely passed Old Took's record lifespan after having a supernaturally-life-extending ring for 60 years. which begs a question. what the hell did Old Took do

In the notes on that post, the most popular theory by far was espoused by @mitsuhachiinthehive, who posited that Gandalf hooked up with a hobbit at some point and [some of] the Tooks are his descendants. This idea was further spread thanks to @the-haiku-bot.

Additional theories which I cribbed for poll options:

The diamond cufflinks were magical in more ways than one @elodieunderglass

He drank an ent-draught courtesy of the missing ent wives @betterofflost

He got hold of a random magic elven ring @morgulscribe

If you would like some a lot of context from canon so you can decide for yourself, more information about the Old Took is beneath the cut.

First off, it's established multiple times in the books what a big deal it was for Bilbo to beat Old Took's record. From The Return of the King:

He opened his eyes and looked up as they came in. 'Hullo, hullo!' he said. 'So you've come back? And tomorrow's my birthday, too. How clever of you! Do you know, I shall be one hundred and twenty-nine? And in one year more, if I am spared, I shall equal the Old Took. I should like to beat him; but we shall see.' [...] Little Elanor was nearly six months old, and 1421 had passed to its autumn, when Frodo called Sam into the study. 'It will be Bilbo's Birthday on Thursday, Sam,' he said. 'And he will pass the Old Took. He will be a hundred and thirty-one!' 'So he will!' said Sam. 'He's a marvel!'

Here's a biography on the old hobbit from Tolkien Gateway:

After the death of his father in 1248, Gerontius became the twenty-sixth Thain of the Shire. He was a friend of Gandalf, who gave him a pair of magic diamond studs and performed firework tricks during Gerontius' midsummer-eve parties. Gerontius Took reached the impressive age of 130, which made him the oldest Hobbit until his grandson Bilbo Baggins celebrated his 131st Birthday. He also held the record of most offspring, until Samwise Gamgee bested him with Tom's birth in S.R. 1442.

And from Tolkien Gateway's page on the Took Family:

Tooks were mainly of Fallohide Hobbit stock, and had quite a reputation for unusual behavior (among other things being more adventurous than the other Hobbits), a quality not valued in the Shire. For this they would be seen as less respectable, but those traits were "tolerated" thanks to their large numbers and wealth. An absurd legend among other families, was that one of the Took ancestors married a fairy. The Wizard Gandalf was a known, if disreputable, associate.

Here we have Gandalf introducing himself to Bilbo in The Hobbit. Note that Belladonna Took is one of the Old Took's 12 (!!) children.

“Yes, yes, my dear sir—and I do know your name, Mr. Bilbo Baggins. And you do know my name, though you don’t remember that I belong to it. I am Gandalf, and Gandalf means me! To think that I should have lived to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took’s son, as if I was selling buttons at the door!” “Gandalf, Gandalf! Good gracious me! Not the wandering wizard that gave Old Took a pair of magic diamond studs that fastened themselves and never came undone till ordered? Not the fellow who used to tell such wonderful tales at parties, about dragons and goblins and giants and the rescue of princesses and the unexpected luck of widows’ sons? Not the man that used to make such particularly excellent fireworks! I remember those! Old Took used to have them on Midsummer’s Eve. Splendid! They used to go up like great lilies and snapdragons and laburnums of fire and hang in the twilight all evening!” You will notice already that Mr. Baggins was not quite so prosy as he liked to believe, also that he was very fond of flowers. “Dear me!” he went on. “Not the Gandalf who was responsible for so many quiet lads and lasses going off into the Blue for mad adventures? Anything from climbing trees to visiting elves—or sailing in ships, sailing to other shores! Bless me, life used to be quite inter—I mean, you used to upset things badly in these parts once upon a time. I beg your pardon, but I had no idea you were still in business.” “Where else should I be?” said the wizard. “All the same I am pleased to find you remember something about me. You seem to remember my fireworks kindly, at any rate, and that is not without hope. Indeed for your old grandfather Took’s sake, and for the sake of poor Belladonna, I will give you what you asked for.”

And for context, Sam was 102 when he sailed West, Merry was at least 103 and almost certainly older when he died, and Pippin at least 95. The uncertainty is because Tolkien describes their last years thus in the Appendices:

1484 In the spring of the year a message came from Rohan to Buckland that King Éomer wished to see Master Holdwine once again. Meriadoc was then old (102) but still hale. He took counsel with his friend the Thain [Pippin], and soon after they handed over their goods and offices to their sons and rode away over the Sam Ford, and they were not seen again in the Shire. It was heard after that Master Meriadoc came to Edoras and was with King Éomer before he died in that autumn. Then he and Thain Peregrin went to Gondor and passed what short years were left to them in that realm, until they died and were laid in Rath Dínen among the great of Gondor. 1541 In this year on March 1st came at last the Passing of King Elessar. It is said that the beds of Meriadoc and Peregrin were set beside the bed of the great king. Then Legolas built a grey ship in Ithilien, and sailed down Anduin and so over Sea; and with him, it is said, went Gimli the Dwarf. And when that ship passed an end was come in the Middle-earth of the Fellowship of the Ring.

[arsenicflame]

It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.

At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return. 

It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.

Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. 

“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy”, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.

(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)

By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.

When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.

Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”

And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”

That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.

[xaverie]

So. I love Evan Kelmp. And - imagine that I'm trying to choose my words carefully here.

I've been getting annoyed with him over the last three episodes. Because. I don't like how he tends to impose his beliefs. About what is correct and should happen. On the other characters. And our Black characters, specifically. Which. Was really put on clear display by his interaction with The Qohlye.

Evan seeks to be understood. But I don't think he has.. put in the required effort to reach that same level of understanding with his friends, or in general. Perhaps because they haven't said things in the exact way that he needs to hear them. But he behaves as though he does understand, even though I personally think. That there are things he's missing.

The treehouse conversation. Lots of people seem to get and relate to Evan's side of the convo, which is fantastic! But not as deep an understanding of Jammer's side. Evan decides that the correct thing is for Jammer to come out not hide his magical experiences. He jumps to a few conclusions about the reason - first that maybe Jammer was ashamed, then that he wasn't confident it would go well.

Instead of asking for clarification about what "They need me to be Whitney, you guys need me to be Jammer" means, he had made up his mind. Evan likes that Jammer is magic because that is the way in which Evan feels most connected to Jammer, thus everyone should admire Jammer for his magical abilities the way Evan does. And if Jammer hasn't allowed for that it's some kind of rebuke of Evan, of magic, and of Jammer's own self. Therefore the only correct thing is to merge these identities, but really just be the Jammer that Evan knows.

And I'm not saying Evan is wrong here. But in the same way he's missing the fact that Jammer did try to expose his magic in S2E1, but he couldn't prove it because magic is fucking broken. He's also missing how naturally we, as Black people, fall into code switching. Not just historically as a method of survival, but for practical reasons, privacy reasons, or just to keep our peace. To treat that unilaterally as the same thing as a kind of toxic compartmentalization, or hiding the true self (all of them are true selves), was. Kinda. Sad to me.

Not to take away from Jammer's triumphant success on Galamanis or the freedom represented by growing wings, because this is what he chose and I love that he made those choices. But it also represents potentially giving up fitting into his mundane life and dream career, something he had fought so so hard to keep thus far, and destroying 'Whitney'. This, more than anything before it, might be a fundamental shift in identity.

The same way it made me a little bit sad that Evan had assumed Jammer didn't mean "family" literally, when I immediately recognized that of course he did. There has never been a point in American history where part of being Black and being family hasn't meant - we may have to be apart, but as soon I'm ready (as soon as we're safe), I'm coming back for you, no matter what. It is THE very first promise, the foundational truth, or the only thread of hope that tied so many Black families together through all these generations.

So while everyone recognizes what a sweet moment it was, I also hope people feel the gravity and the history behind "I dream of making that space for you." And the weight of how many people must have said that before him. And what a profound act of love it's always been because sometimes that's all we have.

When Evan tells Sam, "I think you are the most powerful wizard," she instantly replies, "I hope not." Evan's response to this was essentially - who were are is true whether we want it to be or not. Which, to be fair, is both consistent with what he expressed to Jammer and with his own experience. What it leaves out is that our hopes are also who we are. And that maybe the same way he mistook her love toward him for general gregariousness, he is still misunderstanding her a little.

While he deferred to Sam on the matter of whether they should pursue the Qohlye or not, I think it was still Evan's (or Brennan's) idea that not only must all four of them be chosen, but that The Qohlye must be the best choice for Sam.

When the Qohlye says 'I think you're only here because you're convinced you need to be the same as your friends,' is he wrong? When he asks why she needs to be chosen by his magic specifically, she can't answer on her own. When Sam was given the choice between Power and Understanding she immediately chose understanding because of COURSE she did. (She instantly replies, "I hope not." I hope not. My heart breaks.)

And yet. Evan insists that she's given the power anyway. Because that's what fits neatly into what he already believes is correct and should happen. He believes in winning and rewards. He believes she deserves that power and that they need it. So even though I know he does this out of love, he doesn't even consider for a moment that he might be wrong.

Because Sam does get the power, she does thank him, and again not to diminish Sam's accomplishment - once again Evan gets what he wants and is proven right.

Except.

When The Qohlye doesn't give him the answers he wants in the exact form that he demands them. Evan decides that this is a crime for which The Qohlye deserves to die. The Qohlye, who helped return him to life. Who has a strong connection to his friends. (Who chose to be Black, which meant so much to Jammer that he cried.) Who asked each of his friends, in turn, if they thought The Qohlye meant what Evan thought he meant. Who demonstrated that he is not (and cannot be) obfuscating something that is apparently obvious to everyone else.

Evan refuses to accept that yes, The Qohlye can give him information, but cannot understand it for him. And Evan is not ready to Understand because Evan keeps choosing Power. Understanding takes work, even (or especially) when it doesn't come naturally to you. And answers will not always come in a clear and concise way. And this makes him so angry that he wants The Qohlye dead.

While Evan always presents his beliefs and demands as logical and rational, his reaction to The Qohlye's refusal to engage on his terms was simply entitled and immature.

[kimyoonmiauthor]

Might be more of a white culture thing. I get called names often when I point to actionable things one can do. Usually from particularly Black and other PoCs, they're more straight with me than white women are when they assume I'm a woman, even if I point out I'm NB and particularly don't subscribe to white (US Middle Class) woman's speech, which I never could quite master nor like.

There was a study on white women's speech about an Italian family, I think, granted US-based immigrants, where women of the family were taught more to be "peacemakers" and use indirect questions, (not the Jewish kind of questions) to particularly needle people into doing action.

Jewish speech (since I was raised Jewish as part of being adopted), tends to have more rhetorical questions to challenge people to think more deeper or examine their thoughts. (Plenty of papers on this, I actually wrote a long post about it)

But outside of (white) Jewish circles, often questions are used as passive aggressive behavior and ways to diffuse conflict. Such as the white woman speech of something like, "We do not hit other kids. How do you think the other kid feels?"

BTW, this is far from the white woman's tears and toxic white women's speech as pointed out by Robin DiAngelo, but does show the gulf between how women are treated between cultures and often I've observed PoCs are more likely to try to conform to white ways of gender when faced with someone white due to mainly stereotype threat and also some speech patterns which are harder to deal with if you aren't versed with how to deal with the toxicity. People tend to hedge their bets.

By the way, straight pitching here, but I'd really, really like a philosophical discussion on two things, though I'm well aware these are loosey goosey. And yes, maybe influenced by the US election:

The questions are these two:

Does true altruism exist? Is there a way to make an outgroup care about the in-group, when they have no skin in the game and keep showing up? I remember the episode you did about Sam Altman? But it didn't get into this question. We're stuck worldwide with people who don't care, but is there a philosophical way to get people to care about groups they don't belong to?

And the other question is how does one sell an idea of masculinity that is not the Alpha, Beta, etc set and can we escape that to men in such a way that they feel invited? I've read about sacred masculinity and also the secure masculinity models, but worldwide the shift towards that ultra masculinity seems to be winning because it feels powerful. The current movement of feminism is asking how to reframe masculinity itself.

I'd like to see it in an intersectional way for both topics. Such a way that it sees internationally and through lens of intersectional queerness.

You've circled around these topics, gone through them talked about queerness, communication, but I've felt like it's a glancing blow. I'm aware this is a hard ask. But I have to admit the last US election and watching other elections where people have swung far right on self interest alone over community has left me wondering if I missed something. Distrust of community that deep leaves me reeling.

I encountered women who were willing to, for example, stick it to trans people over protecting their own rights and philosophically I do not understand why they would choose hate over saying everyone deserves rights. I did the sit down and listen, but hit hard dead end walls, like I was being an elitist for going to college and the pursuit of knowledge is being snobby. Or literal professed Neo-Nazis, like telling me people should believe in Mein Kampf. And I'm sitting here thinking what more could I have done to make people care and care about people unlike them as a really marginalized person. It hit so many walls, and I tried very hard not to yell, scream, but reason through emotions, logic, but I can't help feeling a little frustrated that maybe I didn't know enough in order to get them to see a different way and move them that little bit or at least crack their wall through the interaction.

Separating The Art from the Artist ('s Gender)

an interesting thing I've observed:

I've been making art for my whole life, and I publicly transitioned a few years ago, and it's super interesting how much criticism changed when I came out

When I was in the closet the criticism I got for my work was a lot more useful. It was generally constructive, usually specific and actionable, usually coming from a place of sincerely engaging with my work even if it didn't always like it. So even the negative stuff was usually helpful?

Whereas now, most of the criticism I get seems a lot more "vibes based"? It's more vague; it's more likely to contain factual errors like "The work says X" when the work doesn't say that, or even says the opposite; the criticism is often less actionable; and it's more likely to treat my work as something that has accidental features to which the audience has a reaction that is the most important thing, rather than something that has deliberate features because I chose to put them there? And so it's judged much more by whether people vibed with it rather than by whether it achieved what I intended it to

idk, it's just interesting, maybe it's not a gender thing maybe it's just that people's media literacy is changing? maybe i'm attracting different audiences now? maybe I'm just worse lol

[irisbaggins]

This isn't going to be as in-depth as my other meta (I am too tired after Uni and thinking about different literary theories), but I've seen some folks point it out and wanted to add my own two cents:

From the way I view Evan's behaviour since the killing of Philtrum, I read it as him becoming defeatist towards his own nature. He truly believes he's a bad person, who doesn't deserve love nor happiness. He chafes against any assertion that he's loved or cherished, and he clashes with anyone attempting to assert that he's valuable and loved just the way he is. The only person who he doesn't outright clash with is Sam, and that is - I believe - only due to the fact he saw and experienced her emotions and feelings, and therefore cannot quite dispute them. With Jammer and K he can, because he doesn't have that insight into their true feelings. He can make assumptions, then, and run with that idea.

Why does this matter, then? Well, I've noticed how Evan pushes back against the three, and how it differs with each person. Because he does clash against all of them, just differently depending on the person. With Sam, he doesn't outright deny her claims, but it's clear he doesn't believe her fully. He just doesn't say it because it makes her sad and, after every kindness she's shown him, he doesn't think she deserves to feel like that. With Jammer, we've seen him either outright challenge him - how he's mentioned to Jammer's teammates and the lack of talking about his inherent magic - and we've seen him doubt and distrust Jammer's overt affection - not believing they're family, despite Jammer's insistence that they are. And with K, Evan has never truly believed himself worthy of love, but he doesn't quite understand that that's the issue K has with him, and therefore thinks K just wants to "change him" to fit their worldview (instead of being that K wants to "fix him" in terms of his self worth etc.).

Evan clashes with all of them, and I argue that it's because he doesn't see himself as worthy of their compassion. I would have to re-watch the first few episodes of the season to be sure, but I have the distinct feeling that Evan's refusal to believe in his friends' compassion started after killing B2, something he did without hesitation and without direct remorse. And I think that's the core issue, here. I believe that's why Evan is so adamant in his position, in his belief of his unworthiness, in his desire for power and control; he truly believes he became what he always feared, and he's both accepted this and is also denying it. He pretends everything's fine, yet he also cannot escape the feeling that he's doomed. He called himself heir to the evil house, something he's always denied. I think that alone is an insight into Evan's mindset; he thinks himself evil, which places him in direct opposition to his friends who he believes to be good.

I talked about K and control, and how they can - in their attempt to pretend - be hurtful in what they say. I argue the same is true with Evan, but instead of being directly self-sabotaging with his speech, he's doing it indirectly. He's placing himself as someone they shouldn't trust, and he himself might not be consciously aware of it. He's self-sabotaging, at least from the way I read his actions, especially in light of K's conversation with Tabby. He doesn't trust that the affection of others is genuine, and therefore will treat it as if it weren't. And he's only gotten worse, I think. Yes, he can throw out affection and "I love yous", but receiving them? He doesn't know how to handle that, and will either just go along with it quietly, or question it directly.

Evan's trapped within a negative feedback loop, and I think this is only heightened with his conflict with the Qohlye, and his conflict with him. Specifically, I'm thinking about the ways in which Evan refuses to actually understand why he was given the book, and why it's a horribly sad thing to happen to him. Not because the Qohlye thinks Evan is only meant for sadness, but because the Qohlye understands and knows that the book will only lead Evan to a darker place in a desperate attempt to keep control. The Qohlye is sad, I think, because he knows Evan will happily walk a path he himself doesn't want just to keep his friends close - something that will, in the end, only lead to great sadness. Just take his near sacrifice when saving K from death in the first season, or killing B2 in this season. Evan is a self-fulfilling prophecy, and the Qohlye sees this, and sees Evan refusing to attempt to understand it. That's the sad part, I think. That's where that grief comes from. It comes from seeing a bright and kind kid destroy themselves because of them believing themselves unworthy of love.

I could go on with this topic, but I think I'll end my rant for now by concluding with this: Evan hasn't acknowledged the demons directly since he discovered they had returned, and I am very worried with what's going to happen in the last two episodes. Especially with the references to "kill your dad" and all. Evan is such an interesting character to analyse, especially since he's such a flawed and complex character. Often, what I've noticed with him, is that it's what he doesn't say that leaves the most impact. And him not acknowledging his own emotions and his own fears regarding his nature is quite telling. Especially as he's positioned himself as a wizard killer. I'll probably write some more meta at a later date regarding him - as well as meta on K, Jammer, and Sam, as I find all of them so incredibly fascinating. But I shall end the post now before I fall asleep typing, because I am dead on my feet. So, if this post makes no sense, really sorry about that! Will probably refine it later when I'm dodging writing about my thesis.

Also, just wanted to add: If anyone has like, any points, disagreements, or just general thoughts about this post and my takes, I'm happy to hear them! I'm always up to hear what others think of my takes, especially if you disagree. It always fascinates me to hear what others think about characters and a story, so please do not hesitate to interact if you have your own two cents!

[literatelyobsessive]

done for the night

axel kovacevic x reader

author's note ⋆｡𖦹 ✮ ‧₊˚✩彡

hiiiii this is my first fic for any CK character so i'm kinda nervous. hope u like it. i started a pt. 2 already bc i just love axel but i also wanna write him in different scenarios as well! will open my requests asap :)

c.w.

s6pt2 spoilers, drinking.

being in barcelona was a dream. you were grateful that you were able to tag along with the miyagi do's. sensei larusso and sensei lawerence always liked you, especially johnny. being miguel's best friend is a privilege you were happy to have. sure, it came with a lot of drama but it also came with a protector, a group of friends, and some karate skills.

plus, being miyagi do's water girl wasn't a bad deal for being flown out to barcelona.

you were enjoying being on the inside of all the events while not needing to fight. the first couple of rounds you seen were intense. being around all these powerful people made you a little nervous but you had hope nothing terrible would happen like the rumble at west valley. these weren't angry teenagers fueled off drama and angst, they're athletes. aspiring professionals.

after miyagi do managed to stay in the game by the skin of their teeth, everyone was getting ready to go out. sam was talking your and devons ear off about spain and all the things her and miguel were going to do in their freetime when there was a knock at the door. you got up from your spot at the vanity and opened it to see miguel.

he was distressed, foot anxiously tapping with a hand through his hair. "is sam in here?"

"yeah, sam." you waved her over to the door. "you good, miggy?" miguel opened his mouth to speak and his eyes immediately welled up with tears. "what's wrong?"

"my mom..." his voice shook as he took sam in his arms for a hug. "something's wrong with the baby, i need to go back home." he spoke, voice muffled by sams hair.

"of course." you nodded. "is there anything we can do?"

he only shook his head and hugged sam harder.

"miguel." johnny said from the end of the hallway and beckoned him.

miguel let sam go and gave you a quick but tight hug before taking off. you and sam share an uneasy look before going back inside the room.

"miguel's going back home? sensei too?" devon asked and the two of you nodded.

"i need a drink." you said, grabbing your purse.

***

at the bar, everyone just seemed to take the gloominess with them. knowing miguel was struggling made it impossible to have fun.

"what are we going to do now that miguel's gone?" devon asked hawk and demitri.

"we could always have y/n take his spot?" hawk said, giving you a look over like he was sizing you up.

you scoffed. "yeah right, i wasn't even good enough to fight for a spot in the sekai tekai. getting my ass kicked on the world stage isn't on my bucket list."

"i'm serious." hawk said. "if they can't get kenny, you're next up. so don't black out this time." hawk pointed at your drink, remembering the time you got blackout drunk and threw up all over the inside of his car at one of moons parties.

"i'd prefer drunk y/n over kenny any day." demitri started. "at least she didn't shit her pants."

"oooookay." you stood up, taking your empty glass with you. "i'm getting another drink." you saw the way they were looking at you. "my last one. i don't think you guys will need me but if you do, i'll be ready. i promise."

you walked over to the bar, where sam and robby were sitting. "hey."

"hey." sam said and robby only nodded.

"what's with him?" you noticed robby's bad mood as soon as you walked up.

"maybe you can help." sam stood up, taking her cup with her. "i'm gonna go sit with the others for a sec, see if miguel still has service."

"okay." you nodded, taking sams spot at the bar. "what's wrong?"

"everything." robby sighed. "i need a drink."

you wanted to tell him not to, that it wouldn't solve anything but you knew that he already knew.

"get one, whatever you want. i got us for the first round." you took some cash from your pocket. "hey, can i get a mai tai and..."

"a rum and coke. double. please." robby asked and the bartender nodded, getting to work on your drinks.

"it's one of those nights, huh?" he only nodded, peering at the other edge of the bar for a moment before scoffing and turning back to you.

"yeah." you looked down to where he had just looked, to see tory and kwon sitting besided each other. kwon had an arm around her shoulders and was whispering something in her ear.

"i'm sorry robby. she's gonna come around, i know she is."

"i don't know. she's doing better without me." robby took a sip of his drink and looked down to where tory was sitting. kwon had separated from her but was still close. "and i'm here." he looked at his drink. "thanks by the way."

"it's not good to drink alone. especially when you're down." you nodded, taking a sip of your drink. "also, i missed out on the robby who smoked weed and skated everywhere. i hear he was kinda fun."

"i still skate everywhere." he said with a small laugh. "just not a skate rat anymore."

"yeah, you're the captain now." you gently nudged his shoulder. "i don't know how that feels exactly, the pressure, but i do know that you're gonna make everyone back home proud. especially tory."

"i hope so." he took another drink and eventually, his was gone.

"i know so. she's been watching every one of your fights."

robby cringed a little bit. "knowing i've lost every one of my fights definitely makes me feel lame."

"you're still in it. there's still tomorrow." you took another sip of your drink.

robby nodded. "i'm gonna go to the bathroom."

you nodded in return, looking over your shoulder to see hawk on his phone, sam and devon talking, and demitri dancing with a girl. when you turned back to where robby was sitting, kwon was in his seat.

"hi."

"hello." you were playing with your straw.

"what are you drinking?"

"a mai tai." your responses were dry but kwon wasn't backing off.

"do you want to dance?" he offered his hands but you shook your head, backing away a little.

"no, thanks."

"what? you're only miyagi do's little girlfriend? not for the rest of us?" kwon leaned in closer. "i can treat you better than keene."

"leave me alone, kwon."

"hey." robby's voice came from behind you.

kwon only scoffed and backed up. "someone's waiting for me anyways." he stood up. "i promise i'll keep her warm tonight, keene." he said before leaving the bar.

"are you okay?"

"i need some air." you stood up and went outside, leaving your friends at the bar. you felt bad for leaving robby alone but you couldn't be there anymore.

you felt the effects of the alcohol as you walked down to the beach. your head was spinning. you stopped and took a seat near the shore, sighing as you looked out to the water.

and then you saw him.

axel kovacevic.

he had been destroying his opponents on the mat. nobody's been able to land a point on him. he was one of the strongest competitors. he was stoic too, especially now as he was practicing his kata about 10 feet away from you. in the moonlight, by the ocean, with the alcohol making your perspective soft, he wasn't robotic. he was focused. until he caught you staring at him.

you made eye contact and immediately looked down at your lap. you waited about 5 seconds to check if he was still looking and he was full on staring. it was awkward. he wasn't looking at you as a threat, but with curiosity.

the two of you observed each other for a silent minute before you decided to say something. "hi." you waved and he didn't say anything in return. "you're axel right?" he nodded. "i'm y/n. i liked the kata you were doing."

"i'm not supposed to speak with opponent." he turned away from you and you stood up.

"i'm not your opponent. i'm not even fighting in the tournament. more like, emergency backup." you smiled, watching the corner of his lips tug upwards.

"why aren't you fighting?" he asked curiously, taking a step closer to you.

"i'm not really a fighter like my friends are." you shrugged. "you're great though."

"i'm alright." he leaned over to pick up his shirt and revealed bruises on his back. the sight made you wince.

"what happened?"

"bo staff competition."

"nobody has been able to land a point on you yet." you looked at him and he had a sort of an embarrassed look. "i know about... your sensei. one of my friends saw. it's not right. you should be out with your team, not practicing alone."

"there's always time for practice. my sensei wants me to be the best. it's because of him i never lose."

"doesn't make it right." you responded. "your entire dojo is pretty great though, i have to admit."

"you're pretty." axel stopped himself. your face was on fire and so was his. "your dojo's pretty good too."

"thanks. do you wanna walk with me? back to the hotel?" you asked, rocking on your heels. axel looked around and nodded and you both took off into the night.

"how long have you been fighting for?" you asked.

"ever since i was a kid. what about you?"

"only a couple years. after one of my friends got really hurt, i decided i had to get serious about learning. he had been teaching me some stuff but when it happened i just had to join a dojo. it was actually... cobra kai."

axel looked at you in disbelief. "you were in cobra kai?"

"yeah. after miguel got hurt, i was really angry and i took it out on everyone."

"miguel..."

"he was the original cobra kai." you remembered when miguel excitedly showed you his first gi. "it's a long story though. those sensei's, silver. they put me and all my friends through hell. so i know what its like to have a sensei do anything to make you the best, even hurt you."

axel couldn't say anything, he could only look at you with wonder. "is that why you don't fight anymore?"

"kind of. i don't know. i'm just not as angry as i used to be. i feel like my anger was the only reason i was ever good and i don't wanna live like that." you shrugged.

"i understand." he nodded. "i love karate but i don't want to be a robot all the time." you shook your head and opened your mouth to speak but he interrupted. "i hear what everyone says. they call me a monster, a machine. sometimes i just want to be axel." you nodded, this time you didn't have anything to say. "that's why i like to travel. i get to disappear in each city whenever i'm not fighting."

"how many cities have you been to?"

"a lot." he chuckled and listed all the cities and countries he's been to. you listened in awe. "what about you?"

"i've never really left california." you responded. "but after being here, i'd love to see everything. the sagrada familia makes me feel small but not in a scary way. it's like a monument to the great things humans can do."

"how cute!" a familiar voice interrupted. "little rival team playtime, huh?" kwon and another cobra kai came from around the corner. "thought you were only for miyagi do to play with."

"and i thought i told you to leave me alone." you tried to push past them but they blocked the path. you could smell the alcohol on kwons breath as he spoke. "just let us go."

"what's the magic word?" kwon asked, leaning in closer to you.

"move." you responded bluntly, not wanting anything else to do with this.

"wrong." kwon scoffed and shook his head. he glanced over your shoulder and you were sure someone was behind you.

"we just want to go back to the hotel." you weren't planning on giving kwon what he wanted.

"okay. you can go, only if you say please." kwon was in your face again, smug smile plastered on his face.

before you knew it, the other cobra kai kicked axel. it barely affected him as he shot into action to defend the both of you.

"come on, hit me. show me why they brought you here." kwon tapped his cheek and you were about to raise your arm when you were grabbed from behind. you elbowed whoever grabbed you multiple times before being able to slither out and kick him across the face. at the same time, axel shoved the other cobra kai into kwon. "okay come on. i'll take you both."

the sound of sirens took everyone but kwon out of the fight. he was still pressing axel and had to be taken away by his teammates.

"come on, let's go."

the two of you bolted back to the beach. after catching your breath, you started laughing a little.

"what?" axel asked.

"that guy kicked you and you barely moved. you have a strong base."

axel looked away from you, a smile spreading across his face. "thanks. that was a nice roundhouse."

"thanks, axel." you smiled at him and then looked out at the ocean. when you looked back at him, he was staring. no, he was admiring you. "what?"

axel said nothing, he only reached to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. his hand brushed against your face and you leaned into the touch.

and then he kissed you.

and you kissed him back. it was perfect. he was cradling your face with one hand, pulling you closer by your waist with the other. his mouth moved against yours softly and romantically. it was sweet. he didn't want anything other than to kiss you and you were happy to oblige and let yourself be putty in his hands.

but then your head started spinning again. you pulled away abruptly, taking a deep breath as you came up for air. the alcohol, the running, and the kissing were all making you dizzy. "axel i-."

"i'm sorry, i should go. already after curfew." axel took off running down the beach.

"wait, axel!" you called out after him but he was gone. you felt terrible as you went back inside the bar to meet with your team. everyone was already heading out and robby was nowhere to be seen. you figured he had went back to the hotel and hoped he would be fine. everyone else on the other hand would be dealing with their drama for a minute, including yourself.

[grigori77]

Critical Role, Campaign 3 Episode 114

Wow, yeah, that was LOUD! Matt's right, they're just RARING to go right now ...

A time capsule, Sam? Really? Oh gods Sam, no ... PLEASE don't evoke the cursed memory of the Cats movie, you know not what you do ... Sam: "Robbie, you have a line." Robbie: "No I don't! No I ... wow, you guys looked really young in 2019!" Sam: "And we still do!" Yeah ... definitely ... Sam really has let this one devolve into chaos, hasn't he? Dear gods ... I always say this mighty be their worst ad yet, but I think this one might be the blue ribbon baby ...

Marisha: "It's making your lips BLUE!!!" O.O

Laura: "Speaklng of Critmas ... did we talk about that?" Ashley: "I don't know!"

Oh my fucking gods there's an ACTUAL Tusk Love BOOK coming out? Holy cow ... O.O Ashley: "It better be smutty!" Indeed!

That's a good point ... how IS the wedding gonna work if they DIE?!!!

Ooooooooooh ... nervous, nervous ... so nervous! This could go SO BAD!!! I'm so anxious, guys!

First look at the Battlmap for this session ... and it's a MONSTER ... holy fuck this is SO FUCKING INTIMIDATING ... this is where it's all gonna kick off, then ...

Holy Aura? Okay ... so that's going on for EVERYBODY, then? Oh, that's a nice package, indeed ... but also DEFINITELY not subtle either ... hmmm ... but it's not gonna last, either ... better make it count, guys!

Oh, yeah ... smart, maybe hold off on that for a little break to get their shit in order first ... nice thinking, Liam.

No Orb in sight? Hmmmmm ... good or bad? Should we be concerned about that?

Yes. Keyleth's voice would be VERY LOW AND GRAVELLY right now ... and now Grog's using his Titanstone Gauntlets to SUPERSIZE ... oh, and Matt has an EXTRA LARGE GROG MINI?!!! Awesome!

Good point. The Orb is NOT the first order of business here ... they have to remove the Bacon ... sorry, the BEACON first ...

What WAS that strange loud buzzing thing that passed overhead in the smoky sky? Should we be worried about that?

Freedom of Movement for Keyleth and Scanlan? Oh yeah, that might be helpful with him having A MASSIVE HORSE BODY right now!

SIX HUNDRED FEET?!!! Fucking hell, Vex ... that bow is OP'd. I mean this whole crew is pretty OP'd, but still ...

Windup toys? Intriguing ... Professor Anders with a vial of green liquid ... sounds potentially destructive ... is this gonna be a Jinx's monkey-bomb with the Hex crystals kind of situation?

Keyleth's Call Lightning's still up? Cool.

So, Vex fires off an explosive shot to DEVASTATING EFFECT with a genuine NAT-FUCKING-20!!! Okay, then ... what a way to start this off ... AND with a Sneak Attack? Holy shit ... this is gonna be a SCARY amount of damage ... lots of dice maths, especially with the doubling ... O.O ... really, that was like 77 points of damage in ONE HIT?!!! Insane explosive wrecking ball of an attack there, Vex! No wonder the intended target is COMPLETELY DESTROYED in one single hit ...

And that is DEFINITELY it for any remaining pretences of stealth, definitely ... it's all KICKING OFF!!!

Marisha: "Who's mind-fucking me?" Travis: "Isn't that always the question?"

ROLL INITIATIVE!!! Here we fucking GO!!!

Percy's up first? No wonder ... Bad News with a Deadeye Shot! Okay, then ... NO MERCY PERCY!!! Here we go ... he's gonna DESTROY this poor bastard ... a Psychic Shield? Oh, you cheater ... OF COURSE he takes another shot at him then ... oh fuck ... a MISFIRE?!!! Balls ... so he has to waste his Bonus to fix it ... nuts ... next shot hits, though ... and he busts the shield AND grabs some meat! Nice ...

Vex aims to finish what her hubby started on the Thought Eater ... staying at long range, she uses her Lightning Arrow ... dice maths ALMOST beats her, but she gets it together ... and yeah she manages to FUCK HIM UP!!! Nice ... now the orbs are lighting up, though ... oof ... so she scoots off out of range of THAT SHIT too ... O.O

Keyleth plunges into the ground and ploughs under to make her way as close as she can get to the Key ...

A vidulch from ABOVE?!!! What the sweet fuck? That's terrifying ... AND YES, that mini REALLY IS pure nightmare fuel! In fact I can't even call that a MINI ... O.O ... and it has a RIDER?!!! Fuck, who's THIS GUY? He sounds scary ...and the vidulch has a NAME, apparently ... Scrag? Lovely ...

And now it's SCRAG'S turn? Fuck ... and it has FIVE ATTACKS?!!! Dear fucking gods ... quite right everybody's just FREAKING OUT, Travis especially ... O.O

Travis: "Matt, what did ... WHAT DID YOU DO?!!!"

That's right, this thing is basically a FUCKING TARASQUE ... yeah, this is entirely Matt bucking for a TPK this session ... O.O

Oh great ... here come the fucking freaky ancient Reiloran hive mind, any second now ... as if we didn't have ENOUGH to deal with ...

So ... not much Lieve'tel can do right now ... so she just makes her way the best she can towards the Key instead ... but the massive horrowshow gets an attack of opportunity on her on the way ... argh ... and it FUCKING HURTS ...

The Shrikes' turn? Ouch ... this won't be pretty ... they're holding their actions? Not good AT ALL ...

Grog leaps onto the platform and tries to distract the big beastie ... meanwhile battering at a pillar with his Knuckles? Yeah, this should be interesting ... especially since he's STILL Raging ... BOOM!!! BOOM!!! He brings it down and BARELY manages to jump off in the process ... oh yeah, they don't want a piece of Grog AT ALL right now, they're smart ...

Laura: "What do you horse eyes see, Scanlan?" Cute ... XD

Scanlan starts punching the Tower with SCANLAN'S HAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNDD!!! Sam has COMPLETELY forgotten how to do this, it's been SO BLOODY LONG ... and it really does absolutely BUGGER ALL ... oh dear ...

Sunder King Ozo Cruth? Hmmmm ... okay, then ... the Juggernaut on the vidulch looks up at Vex and takes his glass sword to fire at her ... but when it hits, the Dawnfather's protection instead makes his spell REBOUND back into him with a SHITTON of Radiant damage ... O.O ... nice ... which knocks him on his arse ... but he's also able to DRAG HER DOWN into melee with him? Oh shit ... and now he's pulling out a nasty barbed mace ... to attack her THREE TIMES?!!! Fuck! Bone Graver? Charming ... thankfully only one hits, and it puts him on his arse again thanks to the Dawnfather ...

Oh fuck ... NOW what? Oh fuck ... another mini that's not an actual MINI ... Vorak? Oh, that is just NASTY ...

Laura: "I think you think we're better than we are, Matt!"

So it's a bane worm? Lovely ... it goes STRAIGHT for Grog ... and starts trying to chew on him! Ow! Thankfully he JUST manages to pull free in time ... and hits back, dealing a substantial punch in return ... so it shoots a bunch of spines at him! Great ... thank fuck the Big Man is Raging ...

Cerkonos clambers over the wall in his fire elemental form and stalks up to the vidulch, then casts Cinjure Aanimals, summoning peregrine falcons? Hmmmm ... interesting choice ... they start swarming the beastie and its rider, dealing a variety of damage ... 5 D10 of Slashing damage? Nice ...

Pike shifts as close as she needs to get into range before hurling a Sunburst at the Malleus Key ... oh, apparently this is gonna be a BIG BLAST effect ... come on Everlight, kick some arse ... that's a fail for Scrag, but not for Ozo ... and another guy just gets VAPORIZED into ash ... another gets badly burned ... yeah, she has inflicted A WHOLE LOT of damage in that one hit ... meanwhile th4e flash of it lights up EVERY LITTLE DETAIL on the Tower ... and some of them are BLINDED too ...

Vorak manages to bite down on Grog this time and starts chewing on him now he's IN ITS FUCKING MOUTH!!! Oh shit! O.O

Poor blind bastard just pratfell RIGHT DOWN THOSE STAIRS ... it'd be pitiful if it wasn't a bad guy ... instead it's just FUNNY. XD

Oh shit ... those fucking orbs are doing stuff now ... help! O.O ... and now Pike's getting Mind Ravaged ... or rather NOT, she got SO FUCKING LUCKY there ... but the second one HITS!!! Oof ... Damn Psychic damage! That hurts AND disorients her.

Fuck ... Lieve'tel is uncermoniously DUMPED ON THE GROUND ... that's not nice AT ALL!!! Now she's getting mindfucked TOO ... O.o

Percy takes advantage of the flash to take a good look at the Tower ... and he FINDS THE LOCATION they're looking for! Phew! He pulls out his walking stick, pops out the blades and slashes as the Shrike ... which just misses ... NUTS!!! Next one hits, though ... then he stabs at him while SHOOTING HIM with the built-in gun! Nice ... and now the Shrike is RIGHT NEXT to Percy's toy ... so he shoots at the toy ... okay, then, this should be interesting ... Professor Anders blows up, showering the Shrike AND Scrag with a lethal toxin! Even more nice! No Mercy Percy strikes again!

Vex bamfs Trinket out behind Ozo ... REALLY?!!! And then as he starts savaging the Juggernaut she just FLIES OFF?!!! Abandoning her beloved ancient bear? O.O ... my gods ... now she starts SHOOTING AT Ozo with her bow ... Bramble Shot! Okay ... she misses ... crap! Second hits, though ... come on OP bow in the hands of the greatest ranger of all time! Nice ... that is a FUCKTON of damage, Laura! 72 points of damage in ONE ATTACK!!!

Keyleth casts Earthquake with the full intent to try and BRING DOWN THE TOWER ... O.O ... what are the chances this ACTUALLY WORKS?!!! Without accidentally killing half of them in the process? Oh my fucking gods this is HARROWING ...

Oh dear, the poor cowering Vanguard in the tent have been THOROUGHLY PULVERISED by the ensuing tremors ... yeah ... okay, so now EVERYBODY still on the ground needs to make a dex save ... crap ...

Wow ... yeah, this is taking out a BUNCH of people all at once ... oh, and Scrag get knocked on its arse, too! Completely crushing that poor bastard Shrike that was still underneath it ... wow ... meanwhile the Tower HAS taken some damage, but is still standing ...

Scrag gets back up and goes STRAIGHT for Keyleth ... crap ... MUNCH MUNCH MUNCH!!! Yeah, this thing is FULLY INTENT on inflicting a whole HELL of a lot of hurt on our girl right now, including a massive amount of acidic vomit ... yuck! Shit ... now Matt's doing a whole hell of a lot of dice rolling ...

Great ... Lieve'tel's Planar Ally is now GONE ... great ...

Balls ... the Weavemind are starting to manifest then, looks like ... and now they're all getting BATTERED TO THE GROUND with psychic energy from beyond the stars! So to speak ... crap ... yeah, Vex just got pounded RIGHT OUT OF THE SKY!!! That's not cool! At least it didn't break the broom, but still, HEY!!!

Lieve'tel drags herself upright and heads for the Tower ... she casts Divine Intervention to try and rip the Beason free from the structure! Holy shit ... O.O ... hundreds of ravens? Oh, that's really awesome ... go you magnificent murder! Oh yeah, that's the ticket ... yeah, there we go, it's fucking WORKING!!! THERE IT IS!!! THE BEACON!!! EXPOSED!!! PERFECT!!!

Finally a little Healing Word to pep herself up again a little ...

Grog is currently INSIDE THE FUCKING WORM!!! He immediately gets burned by acid and that just sends him into a Frenzied Rage! He is currently Drax in the belly of the weird beast at the start of Guardians Volume 2 so he just starts SMASHING AND SLASHING AWAY!!! Thanks to his Brutal Criticals this is a FUCKTON of damage ... he is thoroughly FUCKING THIS THING UP from within! That's over 100 points of damage in one turn and so no surprise it just PUKES HIM RIGHT OUT AGAIN ... now he's just slashing away again from the OUTSIDE ...

Scanlan uses Scanlan's Hand to try and pluck the Beacon loose ... oh, this might not work ... let's see if he beats the spell ... 26? Hmmmm ... and that is a FAIL for the tower's structure ... yeah, he wins and the Beacon has been pulled out ... oh my fucking gods the Bloody Bridge GUTTERS OUT!!! YEAH!!!

The storm overhead just blows itself out VIOLENTLY, blasting the battlefield with massive winds, but overhead the leylines start to return to their original configuration! Holy shit! They did it!

And now Matt calls a break ... yup ...

So, back with THE REST of Scanlan's turn ... he bringsd the Beacon back to him and drops it right at his feet. Then he casts Dominate Monster on Scrag? Holy fuck ... and it FUCKING WORKS?!!! Unbelievable ... so he commands it to attack ANYTHING on its back ... INCLUDING TRINKET?!!! Oh my fucking gods! O.O

Now it's Ozo's go! He leaps off the back of the Vidulch, using Frenzied Wrath to attack Vex ... oh shit ... so Scanlan tries to mitigate the damage with Cutting Words ... oh boy, this could fail so spectacularly ...

Thank fuck for the Dawnfather ... Vex still gets hurt but it knocks the Juggernaut on his arse again ... he gets back up and just goes for her AGAIN ... more damage for BOTH of them, and Scanlan's Cutting Words does BUGGER ALL ...

Wait ... so he's basically stuck in an attack loop until he fails THREE TIMES?!!! I mean it's hurting him but it's STILL hurting HER too! One miss ... then two ... come on, one more ... fuck, Vex is not DOWN ... but Death Ward brings her back up! Shit, he hits her AGAIN!!! He is FULLY INTENT on ripping her to shreds ... she's down and he just keeps hitting her! She's dying! FUCK!!! NO!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Her final thoughts are of her children ... fuck ... and Percy ... she REACHES FOR HIM ... gods FUCKING DAMN IT!!! Fuck ... is Vex really DEAD now? O.O

Grog keeps on hacking away at the worm ... it blasts him with spines, then tries to bite him again ... which fails SPECTACULARLY!!! Phew ...

Cerkonos jumps down and tries to get to Grog ... he burns his action getting there, so he can't do anything else ... nuts ...

Pike does everything she can to get to Vex, using Divine Intervention to call on the Everlight to bring her back ... oh PLEASE let this work ... PLEASE ... oh ... oh fuck ... the Dawnfather's helping too? Oh thank fuck ... nice save, guys! Yes! She's back ... that's such a relief ... finally Pike piles in a 3rd Level Healing Word into her for good measure ... thank you so much Pickle, youre the MVP like always ...

Okay, so half of the scattered foot soldiers are just BOOKING IT now the Bridge of gone ... nice ... another one tries to attack Cerkonos and gets burned in the process ... oof ...

Shit ... the orbs are still working! That's not good ... so Grog gets a MASSIVE blast from the nearest one, which he barely shakes off thanks to the Knuckles ... oh shit, looks like they're just ALL shooting at Grog right now ... O.O ... shit ...

Gods, this is fucking EXHAUSTING ... I'm so worn out by this endless battle ... these sessions really do take so much out of me ...

Percy is FUCKING FURIOUS about what Ozo just did to his wife and is THOROUGHLY INTENT on killing him spectacularly dead ... he walks right through an attack of opportunity without even slowing down! Bloody hell ... oh fuck No Mercy Percy is ALL THE WAY ON right now! He casts Hex, pulls out Manners and throws it ... and MISSES!!! Shit! Okay, now what? So he just pulls out Bad News and starts blasting! A Grit point for advantage, nice ... BOOM!!! Another shot ... BOOM AGAIN!!! Action Surge, then ... fuck, misfire! He pulls out Animus instead ... another hit! BANG!!! Another! Whirling Parry? Oh you fuck ... another Action Surge, then ... another hit! BANG!!! So he pumps 6 Points of Cabal's Ruin in for good measure ... a tone of Lightning damage, then! CRACK-POW-BOOM!!! Yet ANOTHER hit! BOOM!!! And another! BOOM!!! That is an INSANE bout of damage inflicted ... and the fucker is STILL STANDING?!!! My gods ...

Vex gets up, grabs her broom and flies up into the air. Yeah, smart, after all that she NEEDS to keep some distance right now ... she fires an Explosive arrow at him ... which he ALSO parries ... CRAP!!! Her second arrow misses ... shit! She just made herself a target again ...

Keyleth switches into her Air Elemental form, throwing another Earthquake wave through everything as she boosts herself up into the air. Heading STRAIGHT for the top of the Tower ...

Oh nice! Yes! The Weavemind's orb pillars are FALLING!!! Sweet Kiki you total BADASS!!! You did it! Awesome! Unfortunately everybody has to make a save to keep from getting knocked down or even crushed all over again ... CRAP!!!

The Tower's collapsing? Oh man ... is that good or bad? Can Keyleth find the Ball? YES!!! There it is! GO KIKI GO!!! Get it! Quick! Oh wait ... it's CRACKING?!!! Yes! Get it quick!

Strength check, then ... roll well, Marisha! PLEASE!!! O.O 18? Is that good enough?

The sphere shatters ... a cluster of black shadow ... mist ... it's forming into something ... VAX!!! VAXILDAN LIVES!!! Sort of! Yes! And he's got the mini out and everything! Yes!

Liam is ROLLING FOR VAX!!! OH MY FUCKING GODS!!! He's battered to fuck from the strain and all this damage but he's STILL IN IT!!! That is ONE HELL of an Initiative roll, he's SECOND ON THE ROSTER!!! Unbelievable ... O.O

Scrag is still under the Command to attack whatever's on its back ... shit ... oh, okay ... it's going for Ozo instead? Thank fuck ... yeah, now Trinket's just having a ride instead! XD ... it rains down a metric shitton of damage on Ozo ... and he just TAKES IT ... yeah, that can't be good ... and he's STILL UP ... unbelievable ...

Lieve'tel has the Beacon ... and she's now being INFLUENCED BY IT ... crap! Roll good to shake THAT SHIT off, Liam! She makes her way best she can for Vex ... oh, okay ... she burs her NINTH LEVEL Mass Heal ... 700 hit points overall? HOLY SHIT ... well that's Vax back to full strength, then Vex too ... and everybody else in range ... FUCKING BEAUTIFUL ... YES!!!

Dampen Divinity? You fuckers ... only HALF the points, then? Hmmmmm ... it's still great, though ... fucking BEAUTIFUL save, goth dominatrix elf girl!

The remaining Shrike rushes Grog ... that's some damage, but with his Rage he's just shrugging it right off ... Grog just batters him right back and he's wobbling punch-drunk now ... Grog: "Run ..." He just walks right past him to give the Shrike an attack of opportunity, which he just shrugs right off ... yeah, he's just going STRAIGHT for Ozo ...

Reckless Rage? Oh here we fucking GO!!! He just UNLEASHES on the Juggernaut ... those are some INSANE hits, this is gonna be EPIC ... O.O ... fucking hell that's a lot of dice rolling right now ... oh yeah, he doesn't even FINISH before Matt says: "How do you wanna do this?" He just ENDS Ozo ... and turns him into a meat puppet ... fucking beautiful ... in a really twisted way ...

Both the remaining monsters start SCREECHING in fury at the death of their master ... crap ... this looks like it's going to be REALLY BAD ...

Scanlan fires a bolt of Lightning at the floaty guy ... okay ... yeah, he just DISINTEGRATES that one ... so he tries another Command on Scrag, hoping he can turn it on the worm ...

Vorak the worm lunges for Pike ... yeah, 24 hits ... crap ... she can shrug off the damage, at least, but can she beat the grapple? Oh balls ... yeah, she's in its mouth ... FUCK!!! Now it's shooting spines in all directions ...

Cerkonos swipes at the Shrike with his flaming hand and just ENDS HIM at last ... meanwhile ... oh gods, he is SUCH A NERD I love it ... s he bamfs himself right in front of the worm and ... oh, y'know what? As far as Vicious Mockery goes that's actually really good ... yeah, he's now set it on fire AND is now siccing his birds on it too ... and finally bamfs INSIDE the worm and starts fighting it from within too ... oh wow ...

War God's Blessing? Oh, nice boost there, Pikey!

Pike ... is currently being burned with acid! Shit! She Inflicts a SEVENTH LEVEL Inflict Wounds from within its throat ... oh, this is gonna be sweet ... NINE D10 of damage? Fucking hell this IS gonna be sweet ... O.O ... 42 points of damage? Spectacular ... yeah, it TOTALLY spits her right back out again. Grog catches her ... and they're BOTH splashed with more acid spit ...

One remaining Thought Eater ... tries to summon the Weavemind? Crap ... to Scanlan just Counterspells at Level 6 ... O.O ... oh NICE!!! YES!!! Scanlan just looks it dead in the eye ... and takes a dump. Like punctuation. XD

The remaining Vanguard troopers attack Vax ... who just shrugs it off ... they try to retreat ... and he just cuts right back at them. Oh yeah, THAT ONE'S gonna get FUCKED UP ...

Percy climbs as high as he can before taking aim at Vex' would-be attackers ... damn it ... fucking psychic shields ... Secon Wind for Bonus? Okay ... oof ... yeah, Tal just rolled BALLS this round ... nuts ...

Vax has clearly lost NONE of his spectacular skill since he got locked away ... yeah, he's just CARVING THESE GUYS TO PIECES ... I love it ... and yes now he has extra SMITE!!! Nice ... and that's a HDYWTDT on the Thought Eater! Yes! He's back, baby!

Family reunion, and his lady love once more ... oh, that's so sweet ...

Vex takes a moment to welcome him back ... then flies off to approach the monsters. She paints a Hunter's Mark on the worm, then shoots ... hmmmm ... not the BEST rolls ... but it's better than nothing ... she shoots again ... a Residuum arrow this time? Oh, this should be interesting ... with Sharpshooter ... and AGAIN it looks like she's rolling balls ... but she STILL gets the HDYWTDT! Thank fuck ... okay,k so now it's got a TREE growing out the back of its head, while Cerkonos pours a Lightning Bolt into it, splitting the trunk in two and killing the worm in the process ...

Oh yeah ... Scanlan, totally, send it to just kill as many vanguard as possible ... or just set it free in the desert? Oh wow ... it's TRYING TO BOND WITH HIM right now ... that's so fucking weird ...

Vex just sucks it into her locket ... yeah, that's probably for the best. Phew ... thank fuck ...

Is that it? Did we win?

The twins are FINALLY REUNITED ... oh my gods this is amazing ...

So ... he's STILL tethered to the Matron? Bugger ... but it wasn't exactly unexpected ... how long does he have with them, then?

Oh okay ... the reinforcements have arrived? That's it then ... the battle's over, then. They did it.

Issylra? What's that about?

Please just let him stay ... just give him a little time ... he's fought so hard, he deserves a little something ... just the tiniest little respite ...

The Matron: "The night is yours." Okay ... is that ... just THIS night, or something more?

Hold his hand Kiki ... you don't know how long you might have for this, take it while you can ...

Rest. Yes. One day, that's good. Take it a day at a time.

So this is a finite thing, then. They have one brief moment of respite, they should make the most of it while they can.

Meanwhile Grog's just having fun mopping up what's left of the resistance ... yeah, that's about right ...

To Whitestone? Yeah. Go. Now.

Yes. Let Vex meet his nieces and nephews while he can.

Oh, they're using the split tree in the worm's head to step through? That's ballsy. And kind of irreverent too. I love it.

That's it for Vox Machina, then. Next time it's back to the Moon. For Bells Hells and the Mighty Nein ... next time round. Is it Thursday yet?

[thebiggerbear]

This was the very first thing by you that I ever read and I fell in love with it as well as your writing!!! One of my favorite Dean scenes in the later seasons is the dream Sam has with the pizza and pie, and Mary calling him "little piglet...with love". Plus you included the Latin flair on one of my favorite holidays, girl, my heart was bursting at the seams as I read this while also drooling while also slightly jealous of Dean LOL. (you should know as I'm typing this I am daydreaming about the flan, you should just straight up know that LOL)

The rich custardy goodness is calling to him like a siren song.

I am happily being led while pushing Dean out of the way to get to it first. Lovingly of course lol.

“You’d also be 300 pounds,” Sam remarks, taking a sip of his beer. You eye Sam with a frown. But Dean just laughs it off and cuts his little brother a slice.

Not going to lie, I'd be giving Sam a little bit of the stink eye myself. What is so wrong with Dean enjoying himself a little? Besides...give me ALL the flan!!! Sam doesn't know what he's missing.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says. His voice is a quiet, deep rumble washing over you. You know what he’s thanking you for: good food, and a small, but warm Christmas.

This made me smile because it is so sweet and so Dean. ❤️

“He ate half his weight in pig,” Sam says. You can’t exactly deny that, but you cross your arms and turn to him, leaning your hip against the counter. “So? It’s Christmas. Let him be happy,” you retort.

Exactly. Let the man enjoy it.

“Even though you guys didn’t have enough money at times, your brother always made sure you were fed,” you explain. You meet Sam’s gaze, squeezing his arm. “Sometimes he went without.” Sam’s expression slowly slackens, contemplative and dismayed at what you’re implying. He dries his hands on a kitchen towel and rubs at his mouth, like he’s reeling back the years of evidence in his mind and trying to confirm if you were right. “You don’t remember?” you gently ask. Sam shakes his head. “I mean, I knew things were tight. I remember him taking care of me, obviously. But…” He doesn’t remember his brother going hungry. It carves a hole of remorse in his chest.

This right here is perfection. It made my heart break for Dean as well as Sam for their childhood, what Dean had to sacrifice at times to take care of Sam, how Sam never realized it before...just so perfectly written and so on point.

You slide into bed next to him and lay your head on his chest. He groans deep and slowly lowers his arms. One of them wraps around your frame.

Okay, this is just beyond sweet. Literally made me

Moments like this are worth melting for. 😉 (seriously though, I'm pretty sure I have to call someone to get the wetvac to get me up off of the floor)

The whole ending scene just makes my heart glad, especially with her offering to go for a walk with Dean, most likely keeping in mind what Sam said (while Sam is keeping what she said in mind - like I said, perfection!) , but I especially loved the ending sequence right here:

Dean makes a sound of mild interest in the idea. “I guess, if you like stringy trees and frozen lakes.” It’s winter in Lebanon. Not much to look at. You smirk and press a kiss to his chest. “I mean, that, and you in some little Richard Simmons shorts.” Dean gives you a look, and you giggle so hard it shakes your whole body against him. “Honestly, I think that’ll really do it for me,” you tease. You walk two fingers across his thigh, where a cute pair of ‘80s-style exercise shorts would cut off. Dean grabs your hand and rolls you over, pinning you underneath him on the bed. His thigh slips between both of yours, causing friction against your jeans. And he smirks down at you. “Sweetheart, I don’t do shorts.”

Oh, Dean, nice try. We all know you do. 😉

This was just beyond sweet and it was something I very much needed back when I read through it the first time. (I'm sorry I didn't leave feedback until now! I'm trying to be better about that these days) I love the way you write the Winchesters and this one shot cemented you as one of my favorite writers I've come across in this fandom (as well as a few others 😉).

I definitely cannot wait to dive into the Midnight Espresso verse and get more of these two. You did a beautiful job here, lovely!!! Well done!!! 😊💖💖

Get Stuffed

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader

Summary: Dean enjoys the way you cook Christmas dinner with a Latin flair, even if Sam likes to tease him about his insatiable appetite. You remind Sam about the true reason behind one of Dean’s biggest quirks.

AN: This was requested by my lovely friend @iprobablyshipit91: Sam making the usual digs at Dean about his diet, and how much he eats, and the reader pulling him aside and telling him to back off as he doesn’t realize how much Dean went hungry as a kid to make sure Sam was fed.

Word Count: 1,800 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, innuendo, tinge of angst

**This story can be read as stand-alone, but you can also check out the full masterlist of one-shots below. ⤵️

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

“Aw, hell yeah,” Dean mutters. He rubs his hands together and surveys the immovable feast that’s about to get shoveled into his mouth.

This Christmas marks roughly your first year living with the brothers Winchester in the bunker, and a few months after your first anniversary with Dean.

He’s made it very clear that he enjoys your cooking, especially of Cuban food. So you’ve gone all out for Christmas: white rice and your grandmother’s recipe for black beans, boiled yuca with plenty of garlic, bread drizzled with more garlic and olive oil, and Dean’s favorite…

“What’s this part of the pig called again?” he asks. And he uses a large fork to spear into the mountain of roasted meat that you’ve already cut and piled onto a platter.

You come in from the kitchen with the bread in hand, placing it on the dinner table. You sidle up behind him, where he's seated.

“The shoulder,” you say, squeezing both of Dean’s. He hums in interest as you press a kiss to the side of his head. “It’s called pernil. Marinated with garlic, mojo, bunch of good stuff.”

He predictably steals a juicy piece of meat, plopping it into his mouth. He grins while he chews and makes a happy sound.

“Ohoho, yeah.”

You share an amused look with Sam, who sits beside his brother. By the time you’ve found your seat on Dean’s other side, he’s already serving you and Sam the same hefty portions he serves himself.

You know for a fact you’re only going to eat about half of your plate. Sam manages to polish his off. Dean does as well…and serves himself twice more before you break out the dessert.

“Please tell me that’s a flan,” Dean says, drumming his fingers on the table.

“How the hell are you still hungry?” Sam asks.

The look on his face says he’s half entertained, half disgusted. Dean is still sucking on the crispy skin on a piece of pork. He licks the juices off his fingers.

“Have I taught you nothing?” he says. “There’s always room for dessert.”

He tosses you a wink, followed closely by a suggestive smirk. You glance at him with a smile as you set down the metal pan.

“It is a flan,” you affirm. “I tried my hand at coconut this time.”

“Ooh, tropical,” Dean says, waggling greasy fingers. He wipes them on a napkin before he reaches for the pie cutter, which is usually reserved for his favorite dessert. Although, flan is rapidly becoming his second go-to. The rich custardy goodness is calling to him like a siren song.

“How can I get you to make this more often?” Dean mutters while carving out a generous slice.

Your lips curve. You rest your chin on your hand and lean towards him, earning his gaze. “If I made it all the time, you wouldn’t savor it, now would you?”

Dean smirks. His gaze lowers to your lips, like he’s contemplating some persuasive maneuvers.

“You’d also be 300 pounds,” Sam remarks, taking a sip of his beer.

You eye Sam with a frown. But Dean just laughs it off and cuts his little brother a slice.

By the end of the meal, all three of you are stuffed. Dean groans and leans back in his seat. A gurgle mounts audibly from his stomach.

“Jesus. Are you erupting?” Sam says.

Dean holds up a finger. “Wait for it.”

You give your boyfriend a bemused look. You know exactly what’s about to happen. As does Sam, who’s grimacing.

A few seconds later, Dean does erupt, with a truly legendary belch.

“Nice,” you say wryly. Dean squeezes your soft, thick thigh and backs his chair away from the table.

“Well, since I roasted the pig and you did the rest, I’d say it’s Sammy’s turn on cleaning duty,” he says.

“Thanks,” Sam says, with a wan smile. Yours is more jovial, even as Dean’s hand toys with a curl of your hair after he stands.

“I’m gonna shower off the meat sweats,” he says.

You giggle, but you nod. “You do that. I’ll help Sam a bit, put away the food at least.”

Your smile becomes more genuine when Dean drops a kiss on your forehead from above.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says. His voice is a quiet, deep rumble washing over you. You know what he’s thanking you for: good food, and a small, but warm Christmas.

You reach up and give his cheek a tender touch, before he withdraws and makes his way to the bedroom he shares with you. It leaves you and Sam to collect what’s on the table and bring it all into the kitchen. While Sam does the dishes, you start to put away the leftovers.

Something has been nagging at you all night, though you’ve tried to stamp it down time and time again. You don’t know if it's your place to say something. Especially if Dean doesn’t seem bothered…but it bothers you. And you’ve never been one to hold your tongue.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” you begin, even as a small bit of trepidation niggles inside you.

Sam looks over at you. He’s quick to catch the serious note in your demeanor.

“Yeah, what’s up?” he replies. You okay? his eyes also ask.

“Why do you get on Dean so much for enjoying his food?” you ask.

Sam blinks. Then he scoffs a little. “There’s enjoying, and then there’s gluttony.”

“He’s not that bad,” you argue.

“He ate half his weight in pig,” Sam says. You can’t exactly deny that, but you cross your arms and turn to him, leaning your hip against the counter.

“So? It’s Christmas. Let him be happy,” you retort.

Sam levels you with pinched brows. “He’s not in his 20s anymore. All that crap he eats is going to catch up to him someday.”

“What, you expect him to down some kale smoothies?” you reply, giving a pointed brow raise and a teasing smile. “Get up at the crack of dawn for a bare-chested run?”

Sam shoots you a dry look.  

“My point is, I’m not gonna survive hundreds of monster attacks just to get taken down by cholesterol,” he says.

You sigh a raise a placating hand. “All right. I get what you’re saying. I’m just saying…have you ever thought about why he loves food so much? Why he overindulges sometimes?”

Sam's brow quirks. It’s a question you know you need to tread lightly in order to answer. You uncross your arms to lay a hand on Sam’s wrist. He stops washing dishes and turns off the sink to give you his full attention, sensing your shift.

You look up at him, and you steel yourself.

“He might’ve mentioned once…that you two sometimes had a hard time growing up. With John taking you guys from motel to motel while he was working a job, and every now and then, leaving you guys alone longer than he meant to.”

Dean had been more than a bit drunk when you’d gotten this out of him. Hearing about that aspect of his upbringing had upset you, not just as someone who cared about him, but the caretaker in you smarted.

“Even though you guys didn’t have enough money at times, your brother always made sure you were fed,” you explain. You meet Sam’s gaze, squeezing his arm. “Sometimes he went without.”

Sam’s expression slowly slackens, contemplative and dismayed at what you’re implying. He dries his hands on a kitchen towel and rubs at his mouth, like he’s reeling back the years of evidence in his mind and trying to confirm if you were right.

“You don’t remember?” you gently ask.

Sam shakes his head. “I mean, I knew things were tight. I remember him taking care of me, obviously. But…”

He doesn’t remember his brother going hungry.

It carves a hole of remorse in his chest.

This isn’t the first time he’s had to reexamine Dean’s role in his life, and not the first time he’s felt this flavor of guilt. But he sighs and really doesn’t know what to say.

You seem to realize that, and you squeeze his arm one last time.

“Just keep that in mind,” you implore.

You soon leave him to venture upstairs, but there in the kitchen, Sam makes a resolution before the new year. One that includes having a conversation with his brother.

You find Dean in your bedroom. Now in his most threadbare sweatpants and an old black shirt, he lays over the covers on the bed. His eyes are closed and his arms are folded behind his head, but he hears you when you come in.

You slide into bed next to him and lay your head on his chest. He groans deep and slowly lowers his arms. One of them wraps around your frame.

“Think I overdid it a bit,” he admits, cracking his eyes open. You smile and gently pat his stomach. 

“Wanna go for a walk tomorrow?” you ask. “We can go down to the park.”

Dean raises a brow at you. “You hate walking.”

“Not true,” you shake your head, before you rest more comfortably against him. He tucks you in beside him and begins to run his fingers down your arm. It’s a bit distracting.

“Could be nice, with the right view,” you add, though you shiver a little at his touch.

Dean makes a sound of mild interest in the idea. “I guess, if you like stringy trees and frozen lakes.”

It’s winter in Lebanon. Not much to look at.

You smirk and press a kiss to his chest. “I mean, that, and you in some little Richard Simmons shorts.”

Dean gives you a look, and you giggle so hard it shakes your whole body against him.

“Honestly, I think that’ll really do it for me,” you tease. You walk two fingers across his thigh, where a cute pair of ‘80s-style exercise shorts would cut off.

Dean grabs your hand and rolls you over, pinning you underneath him on the bed. His thigh slips between both of yours, causing friction against your jeans. And he smirks down at you.

“Sweetheart, I don’t do shorts.”

AN: �� A little callback to S1 at the end there. I hope you guys liked this! Just in time to prepare for my Christmas cooking! ❤️💚

Keep Reading:

Next up in this series is "A Wish to Build a Dream On":

Summary: Dean has been harboring the archangel Michael in his mind for weeks now, putting a strain on your relationship as you struggle to help him. When Dean makes a wish that accidentally brings his father back from the dead, you get to meet the (in)famous John Winchester. But as always with magic, your boyfriend’s wish has unintended consequences.

▶️ Next Story: A Wish to Build a Dream On

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[a-shadowedvales]

it took weeks for jane to get over and recover from the strain it required closing the gate. sealing the demogorgan away was one thing, it knocked her out for at least an hour, and left her incredibly weak and frail. the only reason she was able to fight for herself and escape the upside down was the sheer adrenaline of it all. knowing mike was out there somewhere, knowing the bad men were after her. but in closing the gate, she knew, for the moment, that she would be able to find some peace in herself, that she wasn’t required for the time being. although i think the series itself seriously underestimated and downplayed the affect of closing the gate actually had on her (bc of their goddamn ‘one month later’ bullshit. like it works sometimes. but noT ALL THE TIME!! it’s getting real old now imo). jane was very woozy after the events, and hopper had to carry her out of the lab because she couldn’t walk. on the drive back home she fell into a very deep sleep that was rather concerning at first. not only was the power extreme and draining, but it was terrifying, too. she lifted off the ground, her sheer anger was enough to lock this great beast away; the mental capacity this took on her was also enough to lull into that deep sleep.

the following sixteen days after closing the gate, she mainly sleeps, only waking for a few minutes over scattered times, waking to find someone (usually hopper or owens) sitting at her bedside. it’s blurry and disorienting, and she’s not awake for more than three minutes at a time. her body temperature goes nuts over these days, from boiling hot to freezing cold, and hopper is constantly opening and closing the windows, taking her bed sheets on and off, to accomodate to her temperature best he can. she thrashes about in her sleep, though never wakes up from the horrible things plaguing her mind. a few times in her brief moments of consciousness, she also vomits, mainly liquid goo because she hasn’t been eating, and has nothing to throw up. the sick itself is extremely hot; assumed aftermath of the heat she endured when closing the gate. when she does come to properly, and finds some semblance of balance and familiarity, she is slow on her feet, luggy and dazed.

when she gathers some of her strength back, she spends another four days in bed, only getting up to go to the bathroom, and not allowed any visitors. eating gets her strength back up, but at first she can’t hold it down properly. she drinks a lot of water though, which gets her body working again, and she slowly but surely begins to function normally. those veins on her face took nine days to fade completely; there are also scattered veins up her arms, and on her hands. they begin in the centre of her palms, swirl around her fingers, and trail off in the front of her hands. they all fade in unison, and vanish after said nine days. however the veins on her left hand remain; they do fade, but for some reason never leave completely. jane often clenches that fist in and out, hating the marring lines, thinking it ugly and monstrous. it came from the upside down, and she feels like she’s stuck with a piece of it now. it is a process to get back to normal, but as we see by the time the snowball arrives, she’s back to some version of herself.

jane still dreams about closing the gate, the heat that burst in her belly, feeling her feet rise from the ground, feeling the blood pouring from her ears, the sweat on her face. all these feelings and more prickle at her skin sometimes, without warning, and can either vanish as quickly as they came, or linger without a timeframe. depending on the extremities, they can make her immobile, feeling like her body is seizing up, and she can’t move. it feels like her spine has been frozen, and her mind and body are completely disconnected from one another. it’s a scary, horrible feeling; feeling like she’s trapped in her own body. it does pass, and the longest it’s ever occurred was sixteen minutes. when she begins seeing cathleen (her therapist in season four), she is given ways to overcome when this occurs, mental and physical exercises to break free from the clasps of the upside down. this follows her way into adulthood though, never as bad when as a child, but still prominent. after she learns some ways to control it, it tends to occur just as she wakes up in the morning, waking to find her body betraying her. although being in bed, on her own, gives her time to work through it slowly, without feeling pressured or worried that anyone around her is scared for her. she doesn’t need to deal with prying (albeit caring) eyes, and can focus on herself.

[sammy-the-boyking]

sometimes i remember the fact that sam literally never knew the voicemail from dean in s4 wasn’t real and i wanna scream a little bit

[ominousvibez]

i know a lot of people tend to define dani/ellie's "obsession" as the ocean to go with danny's space obsession but tbh i feel like as dani gets older she's going to do a lot to separate herself from her identity as danny's "clone" and become her own person

like, that's why i love that the fandom has adopted the "ellie" nickname so much for her. i so wish the show went on for longer with more competent writers or the comic could expand on this maybe but i think finding her own identity and voice would be such a powerful narrative. you're made for one thing but you don't wanna do that, so now what do you do?

(tbh that kind of identity exploration is probably too anit-christian for b*tch h*rtman so i'm glad he didn't get to touch it)

it's canon that dani goes off and travels the world, so why not have her obsession be traveling? she's got a huge case of wanderlust. she likes the outdoors, she likes hiking and camping and is a huge granola girl. like, i think that kinda just fits her a bit more, in my opinion. traveling/exploration.

[samwinchesterthewitch]

CW: noncon (turns mutual later)

The air conditioner in their motel room was broken. Sam thought his skull would split open. The pain was like a band wrapped around his head, squeezing, unwilling to let go until he got what he needed. He was burning up, shaking, his words stammered and breathless as he tried to tell Dean, I have to go.

Dean's eyes said no before his mouth did. To see Ruby?

I need to. I need to, Dean.

But the pain, the pain in his head couldn't compare to the pain in Dean's eyes, and Sam was the cause. He knew he was. He hated hurting Dean, but he needed this, needed to get better, stronger, so he could protect Dean, because Dean had suffered enough in Hell and was broken in ways that Sam couldn't fix, but he could fix this.

Dean's mouth curled. It wasn't a smile.

Sam felt it then, something snap, and it wasn't the band around his head. It wasn't the fingers digging into his shirt, grabbing. Or the hands shoving him on the bed, pushing, demanding. Love in the form of violence wasn't anything new to them.

"No," Dean said, clear through the haze of heat. "I know what you need, and it's not that bitch's blood."

The body on top of his, that wasn't new. But this wasn't sparring. Dean kept him pinned on his front, not letting him fight back, no chance to tap out. Sam struggled, hot with anger, and fear, and his body's shameful response to having his brother so close. He opened his mouth. Dean pressed his face into the pillow. It smelled like cheap beer and sweat.

"You need me, Sam."

This was true. But it didn't make sense, in Sam's melting brain, with his belt being unbuckled, or his jeans being shoved down, the denim rough between his thighs. He couldn't equate the body over his with his brother when leather constricted his hands, cutting into his wrists when he yanked -- his own belt, he realized, it was used to tie his hands to the headboard.

Shock clouded his mind for a moment. Made him go still, frozen, like those nights as a kid when he would just stare at his closet, waiting for the worst. But then Dean was yanking him up by his hair, fingers pushing past Sam's lips, and the shock was gone.

Sam bucked, a choked snarl coming out. He almost bit down, but Dean bit him first, teeth sinking into the meat of his neck -- and then Sam couldn't breathe, caught between a cry and a moan, body and mind wracked with anger fear pleasure pain guilt Dean Dean Dean.

The name came out slurred with Dean's fingers in the way.

"Don't," Dean breathed in his ear, a rough command. Stop. Stop fighting me. "This is all you're getting, Sammy. This is your fault."

This was also, somehow, true, mostly because it was always Sam's fault, all of this was his fault. That was probably why Sam stopped, stopped fighting his brother. Realized that this -- this was happening, and the fingers in his mouth were a kindness, his brother trying to make the punishment easier on him. Sam should be grateful.

He sucked his brother's fingers.

It was too hot, too much heat to think clearly, too sweaty to move. His cheeks were on fire. He didn't know what sounds were coming out of his mouth. It was like a dream come true and a nightmare that would never end, not until he got what he deserved.

Dean started with two. Two fingers, hard and impatient, making Sam's hips buck some more, fingers curling around the belt. He tried gritting his teeth -- the Winchester way, their dad would say, refusing to make a sound -- but Dean would yank on his hair, or twist his fingers, and the gasps came spilling out.

It wasn't much prep. Pain wasn't the problem though. It was hearing Dean take off his own belt, unzip, groan under his breath. It was feeling the head of Dean's hard, heavy cock brush against his rim, realizing that they were past the point of no return. Terrified that this would ruin them, that Dean would regret it once he calmed down and hate himself even more, Sam tried again. "Dean, st--"

Dean split him open. Sam muffled his scream in the pillow.

Too hot, he was suffocating. Burning. Was this what Hell was like for Dean? Sam tried to cling onto a coherent thought, but anger fear guilt pain pain pain my brother is fucking me took over.

Everything was in shards, fragments.

He's angry.

Pain everywhere.

It's my fault.

Dean's breath, heavy and fast, hot on the back of his neck.

But I need to--

Hands on his hips, hand on his scar, the one on his lower back from when he died and Dean traded his soul to get him back.

Ruby's the only--

"Don't say her name," Dean growled, and fuck, Sam said that out loud, didn't he? "Don't even think about her. All you need is this--"

Another thrust, but this time, a spark. More heat, but inside him, fizzling in his stomach. Sam clenched, mouth dropping in a moan. He didn't have to look to know his brother was smirking, that same look he got whenever he was right. Sam forgot what they were arguing about, but he knew who was winning.

"Say it, Sammy." Hot, so hot in his ear. "Say you only need me."

The stubborn little brother in Sam didn't want to. But his big brother kept going, pain oozing out of Sam's body, hips rising up for more of that feeling buzzing in his nerves, throbbing in his chest. His vision went blurry as Dean bore down harder, faster, determined to get the answer he wanted. Expecting his baby brother to give in.

Sam felt it coming. He was hard now, he needed to cum, the friction of the bed and his brother's cock desperately pushing in and out, harder each time -- the words just came out on their own.

"I only n-need you."

He was lifted up by his hair again, gasping. Panting and choking out little moans and whimpers while his brother kept going. "Louder," he growled, so Sam said it louder. "Who do you need?"

"You! Just you, Dean!"

"Right. Right, just me, just your big brother."

It was coiling inside him. Sam gasped out, "Need to--"

"No." In, out. Clench, release. Sam nearly sobbed. "You don't get that. If you're gonna cum, it's gonna be from my dick. Nothing else."

This seemed totally unfair in Sam's sex-cloudy mind. "Dean," he whined, like they were kids again. The thought should have snapped him out of -- whatever this was.

It didn't. Dean kept fucking him, and Sam came just from that, all over the cheap motel sheets.

---

The air conditioner was still broken. The digital clock read 4:56 in the morning. Sam's wrists had bruises and welts in them when Dean finally untied his belt from the headboard. Sam himself was also covered in bruises, and bites, and cum, and sweat.

His baby brother was out cold. Lost the energy to even jerk his hips up after the seventh time. A part of Dean was grateful for that; better then admitting his dick was totally spent.

The evidence of his crime was laid out on Dean's bed, eyes closed and breathing slowly. Dean pulled the covers over his brother like he was tucking him in, before sighing and forcing himself to drag his feet to the bathroom.

The self-loathing could come later. For now, all that mattered was that Sam was here. Safe. Nowhere near Ruby or any other fucking demon who wanted to take advantage of his brother.

Dean protected him, like always.

That's all that mattered.

S4 Dean deciding that to keep Sam from sneaking out at night to meet Ruby, he's just gonna have to dick down his brother so hard he nearly passes out. Every night. For Sam's safety.

PLEASE.

[james-spooky]

this is a test

[quietwingsinthesky]

if there was a torchwood/spn crossover, jack would get shot in the head so much. i know he already dies a lot, but he’s going to die so many times during this crossover. keeps getting bullets unloaded into him. they stab him with silver and steel and copper and none of it keeps him down. he’s gonna get squirted with borax and that one’s not gonna kill him but it is going to ruin his coat, which is materially worse for him.

[bleue-flora]

Ya know… I just realized, what if this book titled Dream that says “dear technoblade” is actually that letter Quackity forces Dream to write in prison. Like hear me out, that torture scene ends after Quackity says “Dear Technoblade.” [clip]. Maybe that’s as far as he got? (lore wise or maybe just recording wise, like how Dream’s diary that just says “Techno admitted have a house” and “Steve is your polar bear” and nothing else) Techno never does receive this supposed letter as @elmhat pointed out [post] and I always did think it was weird that Dream would give him a book with his own name on it… so maybe Dream didn’t finish that letter after all. Maybe he refused and we didn’t see it because things got too gory like how the first visit torture scene cuts to Quackity covered in blood [clip]. Maybe in prison Dream gives Techno this unfinished letter as a show of - see I didn’t betray you or something. I don’t know, all kinda wild speculation but fun to think about anyways… the missing letter has always bothered me to be honest.

On another note (ha ha literally XD), I should also mention that after getting access to Techno’s inventory and ender chest, I did discovery what is in the other books (again no idea if anyone else has posted about this) and it is equally as profound lol.

In the one titled Secret it says “do not read this book”, the one titled Quackity says “quackity” and the one title Sam says “sam”. I know riveting stuff. ;D

Though to be fair, the lower case names are kinda funny to me. Like from a lore perspective, can you imagine if some guy you spent months in prison with was just like - Here, protect these books. This is all the info I have. Don’t share them with anyone - and it just says “sam” and you try not to offend him but like man’s clearly lost it.

Or maybe, we could reason that Dream’s hands are so fucked up he can’t write much anymore so he couldn’t write a legible version of the letter so thats why Techno never received one and that’s why all these books are mostly empty. Maybe all he manages to write is just “dear technoblade” and “quackity”. And Techno after watching him painstaking write it is like - Hey man, why don’t you just tell me orally and I’ll remember - because it physically pains him to watch him struggle. Perhaps as some have suggested, it’s why the signs on his wall don’t make much sense [post], because his handwriting is really just that bad. Perhaps if he takes his time he can write a little so Quackity and Purpled are spelled right and readable (or maybe Punz wrote it for him :0)…

Oh and on a rivals duo note, (not sure if anyone has talked about this yet either but) I found a couple of those books Dream gave to Techno in prison in a hidden chest in his house. One has the title information and that one just has the coords for their meeting place where the blueprints were buried, but the one labeled Dream just says this

and that’s it… I know, very exciting lol… though to be fair they told us the books were blank because they were going to fill them in later, but technically they lied lol. ;)