all the people outside are killing my feelings

I am gravely ill. If I die then all of my things go to Buccellati. The rest of you greedy little rats get nothing. 

Since I’m regrettably not dead on the outside yet, this can’t be the work of @reasonablydrawn-purplehaze. At least when that fucking thing kills people by riddling their body with disease it does it properly.

Carol Writes Letters To Daryl: Part 11

I have not done one of these since East aired, but the last three were crap so I thought it was time for another one. That episode last night gave me ideas for probably two more of these. By the time Season 7 is over… I don’t even want Season 7 to be over. 

With all her available time at her safe haven, Carol finds plenty of time to write letters to the man who never came home to her. 

Dearest Daryl,

Ew. That’s such a cheesy opening. Can I start with something better? Do you remember when I called you Pookie the first time? Of course you do. That was different you. A whole other world life for me.  I don’t even think I remember the woman I used to be, the same woman I think you fell in love with. 

Spending so much time alone in this house has given me alot of insight to things I never got to really think about. Like how the entire time we were together at the Prison, all the signs were there of how we both felt. Neither of us just had the guts to actually say it, and now we’re here. Past Terminus.. Past a life I would’ve wanted for the two of us if we were to ever end up together. That’s what you deserve. You of all people deserve happiness.. you deserve the world. I would give it to you if I could. 

There was a man I met here at The Kingdom. He’s nice enough. I trust him. But there was one thing he said the night I decided to leave that has resonated inside my head since. 

  ”Where there is life, there is hope, heroism, grace and love. Where there’s life, there’s life. I hope that’s not what you’re walking away from.” 

It took me a few hours to sit on what he said. Because it made NO sense to me! I walked away from Alexandria because I couldn’t kill for people anymore. Not for Rick, not for Sam… I couldn’t bring myself to lose another child. Not after all the ones I already lost. So I left. No one noticed I was gone… Until Morgan did. 

That’s what I had run away from. You. I had run away from you because I was so afraid to just feel it in front of a crowd of strangers, people who have never experienced the horrors that lurk outside those god forsaken walls. I ran away from you because if I let myself realize I was so deeply in love with you, I wouldn’t be able to kill to keep you safe. To make sure you stay alive and stay mine. 

My Daryl Dixon. 

I guess that’s the point of this trivial letter. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t catch you in time before you ran out that gate after Dwight, I’m sorry I didn’t take off my mask for you to be the woman you fell in love with. 

I’m sorry the world is so unbelievably cruel in nature. But there’s one good thing that came out of the apocalypse. ME and YOU. Us, together, fighting the good fight. Let me tell you, Mr Dixon… You are my reason to keep going. Just the thought of seeing you makes me shiver with excitement. I live and breathe for when that moment will come. 

I love-

Hold on a moment. Someones at my door. 

xoxo - Carol Dixon

Prisoner (Baekhyun Scenario) Part 3/3

Part One | Part Two

I still haven’t quite wrapped my head around what happened with Baekhyun last night. After being terrified of a man that never showed any emotion, spoke in a cold tone each day, throwing his gun on the table as if it was a toy… it’s quite hard to believe that last night, that same man actually had a soft side.

Why is it, that when he put his arms around me and held me close, did I feel safe? Safe in the arms of a dangerous man that has killed many people without hesitance? Call me crazy, but even I do not understand why I felt so.

Keep reading

‘CAUSE WE’RE HOLY, RIGHT? ☆ a Yomiel fanmix

original art by rainebrown

BITE YOUR HEAD OFF friska vilijor
if i knew i’d get away i’d chop you up and walk away )

REAPER MAN mother mother
( how’d i ever get so off my rocks? how’d i ever get so lost? everybody out there on the job but not me, oh no )

THE WOLF phildel
( you know the blood that i’m owed is all yours, the wishes i’ve made are too vicious to tell, the devil already knows me so well )

AIN’T NO GRAVE johnny cash
( well, look way down the river, and what do you think i see? i see a band of angels and they’re comin’ after me, but ain’t no grave can hold my body down )

OOGIE BOOGIE’S SONG danny elfman
( it’s much more fun, i must confess, when lives are on the line—not mine, of course, but yours, inspector, now that’ll do just fine )

GHOST mystery skulls
( and i’m feeling like a ghost, and it’s what i hate the most )

UP THE WOLVES the mountain goats
( i’m gonna bribe the officials, i’m gonna kill all the judges, it’s gonna take you people years to recover from all of the damage )

INSIDE / OUTSIDE bruce peninsula
( the light that shines from a belly bright yellow brings creatures of the night out to bellow, to wince and to bark, to coo and to caw, to treat you like the yellow-bellied dweller that you are )

JUST ANOTHER DAY oingo boingo
( there’s murder in the air, it drags me when i walk, i smell it everywhere )

Why Baymax?

As some of my followers may know, I have a fairly large tattoo of Baymax from the movie Big Hero 6 on my leg. A lot of people assume I’m a Marvel fan when they see it, but I’m really not. I’ve never read the comic book that Big Hero 6 is based on and I honestly have no interest in it. So why would I choose Baymax to place so largely and permanently on my body? 

Baymax is a nurse. The movie specifically refers to him as a nurse, which already is a connection for me. He uses the Wong-Baker FACES pain scale, a scale I keep on my badge and is in every room of the hospital I work in. He practices holistic medicine, as nurses do. He administers medications like me, he educates like me, he gives hugs like me, he even hands out lollipops like me (or crackers or popsicles or ice waters). More than that, though, Baymax goes through somewhat of a transformation in the movie. Outside his super suit he’s soft and squishy. His design is rather simple. Cute, but his exterior isn’t much more than a plain white balloon. He has no real features but a pair of eyes (which are just two black dots). His movements are extremely basic. I feel this way about myself a lot. Kind of cute, but more squishy than sleek. More simple than attractive. More boring than dynamic.

Inside his super suit Baymax is someone different. He’s a super hero. He learns to fight, he can fly, he takes on the bad guys and wins. When I’m in my scrubs, I’m also someone else. I’m assertive, I can push life saving drugs, I can manage complicated drips, I can care for days-old infants after open heart surgery. I can take on death and win. But Hiro tries to make Baymax someone he’s not. He literally erases Baymax’s caring programming for one that will kill and destroy. It’s not until the end of the movie that Hiro realizes Baymax was a hero already the whole time. That Baymax’s strength was in his ability to care, in who Baymax was outside of the suit, and that is what ultimately saves them.

Sometimes I feel like all I have to offer is being a nurse. That other people who aren’t nurses won’t understand me. That there’s nothing interesting about me besides being a nurse. That I have nothing worth talking about outside of that time I defibrillated a one year old, or the time the OR team cracked my one month old patient’s chest at the bedside. That I’m not very pretty or funny or informed or even that smart, but I do know a lot about inotropes and chest tubes and ventilators. 

The Baymax on my leg is my own reminder that I don’t need a suit to be someone. That I am a super hero in my scrubs, but that I’m still worth something outside of them, and that that person is ultimately what allows me to be great.

Title: Devil in the Details (ch. 2)
Pairing: Cassian Andor x Fem!Reader
Genre: Angst/Some fluff
Warnings: None
A/N: Heyooo Merry Christmas everyone!! I decided to do chapter two since so many people were excited about the first one, so here we are. I had to make up a name for the mother since she’s, y’know, a made up character, and I’m sure I’ll have to do the same with the father in the future. Deadass I used a freakin Star Wars Name Generator to get the name lol. Anywho I hope this is what you were all hoping for, feedback is always appreciated. :-)

People who asked to be tagged: @badwolfandtimelords @geeky-girl-394 @princeofsassgard
If anyone else would also like to be tagged in future chapters of this series please reply to this post saying so <3

Originally posted by andor-cassians

II: The Rebellion

Gentle snoring echoed throughout the ship, but it only seemed to annoy one person. And that person wasn’t even really a person.

“May I kill her now?” K2 asked Cassian impatiently.

“I told you, we’re not killing her. We need her,” the captain replied.

“What could we possibly need her for?” K2 said, “Frankly, I think we should have dropped her on Hoth.”

Cassian sighed and glanced over his shoulder at you briefly. Once he was sure you were really asleep, he turned back to K2.

“I didn’t get the info we needed.”

“You what?!”

“Quiet, you’ll wake up Y/N.”

“We’re doomed,” K2 said, exasperated. “You’ve doomed us all, Captain Andor.”

“Relax,” Cassian laughed, “I got something better.”

“What do you mean you-” K2 stopped mid-sentence when he finally put the pieces together. “You weren’t really helping the girl, were you?”

“Partly,” Cassian said, “She did help me, but I had planned on killing her once we got back to the ship. Then I remembered that we had nothing to bring home, so…”

“Unbelievable,” K2 scoffed, as much as a droid could scoff.

“She’s the daughter of General Krie,” Cassian further explained, “If anyone knows anything, it’s her.”

“You say that like I don’t already know it,” K2 replied, “How exactly did you plan on getting the information from her? Bring her flowers? Seduce her? I’m sure she’d love that.”

Cassian didn’t respond.

“You are truly repulsive.”

“Look, what do you want from me?” Cassian snapped, “We’re stuck with her now. May as well use this to our advantage.”

“Chances of this failing are hilariously high, I hope you know that.”

“She’s too kind for her own good, I think it’ll work out fine.“

“It’s in the low 90′s.”

“I should have programmed a mute button for you.”


Someone was shaking you gently, mumbling something to you that you couldn’t make out. You tried to open your eyes but only found a blinding light, so you squeezed them shut again.

“Y/N, are you hearing me?”

“I hear you,” you groaned.

“Come on, you slept a lot of the trip. You can sleep more when we get inside.”

Your eyes popped open when you remembered your current situation. You were face to face with Cassian, with mere inches separating the two of you.

“Where are we?” you asked, rubbing your eyes.

“Yavin 4,” he answered with a smile, “Welcome to the rebel base, Doctor.”

“I’m a nurse,” you corrected him.

“Either way,” he said, “We should get you to bed, Y/N.”

“That’s the best idea you’ve ever had,” you chuckled, sitting up completely and stretching your arms above your head. Your neck popped and you let out the tiniest of shouts, the pain startling you.

“What is it?” Cassian asked, suddenly much closer.

“My neck,” you whined, rubbing the affected area tenderly.

Cassian sighed in relief. “I thought you were hurt.”

“Why are you so… nice all of the sudden?” you asked, his proximity giving you goosebumps.

“You’re one of us now,” he replied kindly, “You helped me, and for that, I owe you.”

“What happened to ‘after this, we’re done here’?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I changed my mind,” he shrugged. Cassian stood and extended his hand to you, which you took cautiously. He pulled you up a little too forcefully, which sent you practically flying into his arms.

“Sorry,” he apologized with a smile, “Come on, I’ll show you around and then you can get some rest.”

“Sure,” you said, swallowing hard and forcing a smile. His change in behavior was vaguely suspicious, but at the same time, you’d rather have this version of him over the one you met the night before. The closeness was also a nice perk.

He helped you step down from the ship, despite your protests. If anything, you should have been helping him, you thought. He was the one who’d been shot. You were just wobbly from sleep.

The first thing you noticed was the color green. Green, everywhere, surrounding and consuming anything and everything. Lush forestry surrounded an enormous stone temple, vines and greenery clinging to the walls like glue. The air was damp and heavy, much to your dismay. You rolled up the sleeves of your shirt the moment the air hit your skin. Oh, this would be fun getting used to.

Cassian motioned for you to follow him and began walking toward the temple. You followed, unable to take your eyes off of the scenery around you. The trees seemed to stretch on forever and were the deepest shade of emerald. Life on a spaceship didn’t provide you with much to look at other than blank walls, so you were a little more than excited to be somewhere where the air wasn’t artificial.

Without realizing it you’d stopped in your tracks, completely enthralled by the environment. Cassian turned around to tell you to keep up, but was surprised to find you twenty feet back. You had your eyes to the sky and a small but bemused smile on your lips. For a moment, Cassian found himself getting lost as well, but not in the greenery. He watched you in fascination, his heart stopping when a drop of water fell from the treetops and landed on your face. You made a tiny noise that sounded something like a laugh then wiped the liquid from your cheek.

He shook his head and slapped himself mentally for getting distracted. He whistled once, catching your attention. He then made a gesture with his hands to follow him, and you picked up the pace. Your smile hadn’t faded all the while, not even once.

After catching up to Cassian, you started to speak but found your voice being drowned out by shouting. All soldiers on patrol surrounded the two of you, guns at the ready.

“Whoa!” Cassian shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “Put them down, she’s no threat to us.”

“She’s a filthy Imperial spy, that’s what she is,” one of the soldiers shouted, pointing his weapon directly at you. Your heart was hammering in your chest, threatening to burst from your rib cage at any second.

“I brought her here,” Cassian said, stepping between you and the gun. “She’s denounced the Empire. Leave her be.”

The soldiers hesitated at first, but eventually stood down. They stood there looking around at each other as if to ask with their eyes what had just happened.

“We’ll be having a big meeting later,” Cassian said, “We’ll explain everything then. Go about your business until then.”

The men dispersed slowly, keeping their eyes on you as they left. Their judgemental gaze was more than enough to make you feel small, both inside and out.

“Thanks,” you thanked Cassian softly. He turned to face you and felt his insides shrink at your expression.

“They’ll come to respect you, just give it time,” he said reassuringly.

“I don’t want their respect,” you said, “I just don’t want them to think I’m like my parents, that’s all.”

Cassian placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and squeezed. “Give it time.”


The next half hour was spent touring the base and avoiding eye contact at all costs. Though you were excited about being there, you felt like an outsider, and you weren’t used to that. You were used to being in charge, used to making other people feel small without even trying. At Yavin, it was quite the opposite.

After a while you began dragging your feet and your eyelids became heavy. Your bag felt like it weighed a thousand pounds and it was killing your already aching back. As cool as the base was, you thought going to sleep sounded a lot cooler.

Cassian noticed your change in pace and thought it best to show you where you’d be staying. The living quarters weren’t too different from the rest of the temple, architectural-wise. It was, however, so far underground that the air had gone from warm to freezing in three minutes of walking down the stairs. You were clutching your torso, doing everything in your power to stop the shivering, but to no avail.

“Your room is at the end of this hallway. It’s been vacant for a while and barely anyone stays on this level, so I thought you’d like the privacy,” Cassian said, pointing to the room.

“Thanks,” you said, offering your best smile. He led you the rest of the way to your room, opened the door for you, and gestured for you to enter. You stepped inside the small room slowly, your eyes trailing over the walls and concrete floors. A bed and a dresser were the only furnishings, but you were just grateful to have anything at all.

You set your bag on top of the dresser and flopped onto the bed, sighing loudly as you hit the soft linens. You heard Cassian chuckle from the doorway.

“I’ll leave you to get situated,” he said, “I’m going to talk to Mon Mothma, see what I can do about getting you into Medical.”

You made a muffled sound of approval, heard another small laugh from Cassian, and felt yourself already drifting off to sleep.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said, shutting the door behind him as he left.


For the second time that day, you were being shaken awake by Cassian, his soft voice whispering inches from your ear. When you opened your eyes, the room was dark all but for a candle sitting on the dresser. It hadn’t been there earlier, so you wondered if Cassian had put it there. Or, maybe you were just too tired to notice it the first time. A pile of folded clothes sat next to the candle, and you knew for a fact that it hadn’t been there when you arrived.

“You need to get dressed,” Cassian said softly, “Everyone’s waiting to meet you.”

“I didn’t think anyone wanted to meet me,” you said, your voice still heavy with sleep.

“Well, they kind of don’t,” Cassian smiled, “They just need to be convinced that you’re not here to cause problems.”

You sighed and sat up then swung your legs over the side of the bed. “Guess there’s no putting it off. Let’s go.”

Cassian left the room and waited for you to change, the gentleman that he was. When you met him in the hall, he smiled at you, and led you back up the billions of stairs to the floor level. Everything seemed vaguely familiar, but not to the point where you could wander around alone and find your way. The idea of getting lost in the vast facility sent a chill up your spine.

The two of you entered what you recognized as what Cassian had called the “Temple Throneroom.” The large doors opened to reveal hundreds of rebels, all with their eyes on you. A long pathway stretched before you, leading up to a small set of stairs where some very important looking people were waiting.

You swallowed hard and kept your eyes trained forward. If there was anything you were good at, it was looking like you knew what you were doing, thanks to your familial status. You’d been to countless similar meetings with your mother, so it wasn’t hard to keep your head high and pretend that you had it all together.

The room fell silent as you and Cassian made your way toward the stairs, and it became increasingly difficult to keep your composure. These weren’t Stormtroopers, whose faces you couldn’t see, these were people. And they all looked like they wanted to throw you into a volcano. Cassian seemed to sense your discomfort and leaned over to you, whispering, “Everything will be fine, I promise.”

His words did little to slow your heartbeat but they did offer a false sense of security. You knew you were the most hated person in the room, but if Cassian could move past your roots, maybe everyone else could. The two of you ascended the stairs and you were face to face with people who were presumably in charge.

“Y/N, welcome to Yavin 4. We’re very pleased to hear that you’ve denounced the Empire to join us,” a woman with short brown hair said to you, her voice much kinder than you’d expected. “Captain Andor says you helped him escape from a mission that went sideways, is this true?”

“Yes,” you said, “Mostly. I helped him in the infirmary and forced him to take me with him. I… didn’t think he was going to bring me back here.”

The woman nodded, then turned to Cassian. “It’s a good thing he did. We could really use you in our cause.”

“Those of us that have a say have already decided to let you stay,” she went on, “But we would prefer it if our people were comfortable having you around. Would you mind helping them to understand?” She gestured to the large crowd of soldiers and smiled at you reassuringly.

You turned and faced the rebels, your throat having gone dry and your thoughts racing at a thousand miles an hour. You tried to think of what to say, but everything you came up with sounded horribly wrong. Cassian placed a hand on the middle of your back, met your gaze and nodded in encouragement.

The crowd was staring back at you expectantly and you scanned their faces. Some of them looked angry, some disappointed. You dropped your eyes and took a deep breath before beginning.

“I never wanted to be a part of the Empire,” you spoke loudly, “It was just something I was born into. I had no choice.”

Their faces looked unconvinced. Time to up the ante.

“I… I watched children die,” you said, your voice breaking, “Children that were being used as soldiers. Children that I couldn’t save. They’d been taken from their families to be turned into killing machines, and it made me sick every time I had to tell them not to think about their families. I told them they were making a brave sacrifice.”

“The Empire took my father from me,” you said, “My mother was beyond the point of changing her ways, but my father just wanted to do what was right. He thought that the Empire was right, and he may have died believing that. I was never fit to be a soldier, not like a Stormtrooper, or even like any of you. I was a disappointment to my mother, but my father had faith in me to do what I was meant to do.

“I think I understand what he meant now,” you went on, “I was meant to help, not hurt. I was better at stitching wounds than creating them. The Empire has taken so much from me, from all of us, and I couldn’t live with myself if I kept letting it happen.”

Cassian felt the pit of guilt in his stomach grow ten sizes. He was still going to go through with his plan to become close to you for the sole purpose of gaining information, though he felt guiltier about it now. You’d lost just as much as any of them, and you really were trying to do the right thing. Cassian wasn’t sure if he could say the same.

There was an applause among the crowd, and the woman from before placed her hand on your shoulder. She smiled, showing with her eyes that she trusted you. The gesture made you smile in turn, and for the first time since your father went missing, you felt like you had purpose. A good, honorable purpose.

“Welcome to the Rebellion, Y/N.”

The remainder of the evening was spent being introduced to what felt like hundreds of people. At some point you became separated from Cassian, not that you’d noticed. You were so busy socializing that you didn’t have time to even think about him. There were so many people asking you about what life was like being raised in the Empire, what your mother was like behind closed doors, what had happened to your father.

You opted not to say much, keeping any details to yourself. You stuck to vague but true answers to any question you were asked. If they were going to trust you, you were prepared to give them something to trust.

Cassian had slipped out to his ship, needing a moment to himself to think things over. There was no doubt in his mind; he would do whatever it took to get what he needed. The Rebellion relied on him for information and he fell short, he wasn’t about to give up on that promise. His dilemma was that he felt unbearably guilty. You’d lost so much, and you’d been brave enough to step away and do the right thing. And you were doing the right thing. Cassian wasn’t so sure about himself.

“Moping won’t make you feel better,” K2 said. He was standing at the open door of the ship while Cassian sat inside, a look of contemplation on his face.

“Nothing will make me feel better,” Cassian replied. He sat back in his seat and released a sigh, then ran a hand through his hair. He was at war with himself and he wasn’t sure how to end it.

“Perhaps you should reconsider your options,” K2 said.

“There are no other options, this is all I’ve got,” Cassian said, irritation in his voice. The droid stared at him for a few moments before responding.

“I’ll go find her and you can talk this aaall out,” he said sarcastically, “I’m sure that will make you feel better. And don’t worry, Captain, I won’t tell her about your plan.”

“K2, I swear on the stars-”

Before Cassian could stop him, the droid was already making his way back inside. Cassian dropped his head in his hands and groaned loudly. He sat there like that, shaking his head and cursing K-2SO under his breath. Leave it to him to make matters worse.

Ten minutes later, you were knocking on the side of his ship. “K2 told me you were out here, he said you needed to talk.”

“I tried to tell him not to bother you,” Cassian sighed into his hands.

“I don’t really mind,” you shrugged, “It was getting kind of overwhelming in there, anyway.” You stepped into the ship and sat next to him, the floor creaking beneath your feet. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he said, raising his head and flashing you a brief smile.

“I did not walk all the way out here for you to tell me ‘not to worry about it’,” you said.

Cassian pulled his lower lip between his teeth and remembered K-2SO’s words. Maybe he should just tell you, try to clear his conscience and find a middle ground where everyone would end up happy.

There was no way that was going to happen. If you were anything like your mother, even a little, there would be no reasoning with something like that. Even if you’d joined the rebels, there still had to be something you couldn’t say. Some small piece of information that could destroy the Empire entirely. Cassian was determined to figure that out his way. You wouldn’t tell just anyone, it would be someone you trusted. He was prepared to gain that trust by any means possible.

“It’s just been a long day, that’s all,” he said, “Dealing with new arrivals is difficult enough as it is, you’re no exception.” He leaned over and nudged your shoulder with his own playfully, smiling all the while.

“It’s like you said earlier today, just give it time,” you replied, smiling back at him. You sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of the night and enjoying the company. Cassian was the first to speak again.

“I wanted to ask you,” he said, “What happened to your father?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. One day he just… never came home. He was supposed to be on some secret, need-to-know kind of mission. I guess it didn’t go so well.”

“How long has it been?” Cassian asked.

“Almost three years,” you answered. You began to absentmindedly scratch at the skin covering your knuckles, a nervous habit you’d developed over time.

“I’m very sorry,” he said beside you, watching red marks begin to spread over the skin of your hand.

“Don’t be,” you said, “Whatever he was out there for, it was important. I just miss him, I always will.”

Cassian reached over and took your hand in his, preventing you from further hurting yourself with your nails.

“He’d be proud of you for doing the right thing,” he said, “He would be.”

“I have a really hard time believing that,” you half laughed, “My dad loved me, and he loved my mother, but… he loved the Empire more.”

“Then prove him wrong,” Cassian said, “Prove everyone wrong. Show everyone who you really are, not who your family wanted you to be. You’re more than what they gave you credit for, you just needed to find your place. And now you’ve found it, here, with me, and everyone in that building. Do right by them.”

Involuntary tears began welling in your eyes as he spoke. You turned in your seat and pulled him into an embrace, your arms circling around his shoulders and your face nestling into the crook of his neck.

“Thank you, Cassian,” you said, doing your best to keep your voice steady. Slowly but surely, his arms wrapped around your torso and he pulled you even closer.

“Of course,” he murmured into your hair.

He couldn’t deny it anymore. There was no escaping how he felt.

He was falling for you, and he was falling hard.

Dearest (Joker x reader) 3

Y/N’s curiosity got the better of her when she went exploring by herself in an old insane asylum. Little did she know of the murderous psychopath lurking in the shadows, obsessed and determined to break her and make her his.

Chapter 3

Warning; mild smut


As I was laying in bed, I thought about the monster I’d met a few days ago. He had been the only thing on my mind since I left. These last days I’d spent questioning myself. Doubting myself. Why did I feel such an attraction to him? I mean I get it, every girl likes a bad boy to some degree right? But this is different. He’s not just a bad boy with a leather jacket who smokes cigarettes outside his mustang. This man is pure evil, he has killed so many innocent people, for no reason at all. He did it because he wanted to, because that was entertainment to him.

 Today, it had been a week since I went snooping in the insane asylum. Today was the day I was going back there. And to be honest, I wasn’t scared. Well, to a certain degree I was. Despite that thick glass separating us, he was still a threat and being in his presence wasn’t safe for me, at all. I had no idea what he wanted from me. However, I wanted to find out. I needed to find out.

 I don’t think I’ve ever been so restless in a class before. I was swinging my legs back and forward under my desk. I wanted to look nice for Mister J even though I didn’t really know what he liked. So I just put on black stockings and a short black fluffy skirt. I felt nice, I felt pretty and I felt cute, which I suppose he would approve of. When the clock hit 3PM I grabbed my bag and rushed out of the classroom. As I was walking I felt myself growing nervous again. What would he say? Why did he really want me to come back? Did he just want to see me again and have a conversation as two normal people or did he want to use me to escape the asylum and then kill me once he has what he wants.

 Today was raining so I was covering my hair with my schoolbag. Once I saw the entrance, I drew a sharp breath and walked inside. I still had the code saved on my notes so I punched it in and walked into the hall I had been thinking about for the past 6 days. ‘’Dollface’’ he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. ‘’Hello Mister J.’’ I said and walked to his cell. I had almost forgotten how attractive he really was. Almost like my imagination didn’t live up to the real thing. 

His eyes were fixed on me as he looked me up and down. He seemed pleased with what he was seeing. ‘’Look who came back to daddy’’ he said with a grin on his face. I blushed again feeling flustered and embarrassed of how god damn nervous and insecure he made me feel. He had to think I was a total geek. ‘’I was curious’’ I replied as I started to walk towards the glass cell.

He did the same and for a moment, we stood there, looking at each other’s eyes. If there weren’t thick glass between us, I could have felt his breath on my lips. I’m not going to lie and say that in this moment, I saw kindness, innocence and vulnerability in his eyes. I saw what was there. Pure insane evil. But that was his beauty, and darkness has it’s own very special and seductive beauty.

 He looked at my lips before he spoke; ‘’Are you scared of me?’’ I hesitated. ‘’No.’’ I said as determined as I could manage. He smirked and looked back up at my eyes. ‘’Why don’t you come in here and say that kitten?’’ My heart fell to the floor, both in fright and in excitement. I knew I was way out of line here, pushing my limits and my safety far beyond reason. Fuck it. ‘’How?’’ I asked, making my voice sound as soft as possible. 

This seemed to catch him slightly off guard. The fact that I had managed to catch the joker off guard made my stomach tingle. ‘’Behind you.’’ Was all he said. I turned around and saw yet another one of those code systems that seemed to be all over the place. ‘’You know which buttons to press, doll’’ he said and laughed quietly to himself.

My mind had gone completely fuzzy at this point. I wasn’t thinking even close to straight right now. I walked over, took a deep breath thinking of how this might be one of the last things I do on this earth, and then I pushed the buttons. A small part of the glass cell slid open and now we both stood in silence. This was my move. I could run. Run for my life, never go back and forget about it. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. That dangerous, curious part of me was too stubborn to let me go.

 I walked inside his cell slowly and walked over to him. Luckily for me, he was still in his straitjacket, so he couldn’t launch himself at me and strangle me. ‘’You have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this.’’ He said as he started walking towards me with his head tilted down. Instead of walking out that door like a normal person would in this kind of situation, I stood still. I was determined not to be a coward. However, when he came to close for comfort I started walking backwards. I apparently wasn’t aware of this, as I suddenly gasped when my back hit the cold stone wall.

At this point, he was so close to me that I could feel his breath on my mouth. I felt my face growing warm and my knees getting weak. ‘’You’re a dangerous little kitten, aren’t you Y/N?’’ he growled seductively. My entire body felt like Jell-O. ‘’Yes, mistah J.’’It came out barely as a whisper. He purred and put his lips on mine forcefully. Since I was the only one with my hands free, I placed my hands on his necks and stroked the sides of his hair. His tongue grazed my lower lip before he bit down.

This caused me to release a tiny moan. This seemed to make him even more eager as he removed his lips from mine and placed them on my neck. He kissed the soft skin up from my chest to my jawline. Then he continued to suck on my neck, hard enough to make a very visible hickey. ‘’Mmm, such a good little girl for me’’ he murmured on my skin. It felt like my entire body was on fire, my loins burning, my skin aching for his touch.

He eventually pulled away and looked at the desperate blushing mess that stood before him. ‘’I don’t wanna get too eager now kitten. The doctors ought to be here soon with their words of wisdom and heavy medication.’’ He said in a singsong voice. ‘’Give it a few days, I’m not finished with you.’’ I didn’t understand what he meant but out of fear of annoying him I just smiled weakly at him and walked out of mister j’s cell. Before leaving I turned around and looked at him, taking his entire body in. He stood there, eyes wide, chest rising rapidly and breathing heavily. I knew now, that there was no turning back from here.  

Waverly Hills Sanatorium

eternagym submitted

So, I turned 19 in the summer of 2016. Since my birthday was on a Friday, I essentially turned my birthday celebration into a “birthday weekend”. I planned to go up to Kentucky, USA with two friends to go to the Waverly Hills Sanatorium, an old tuberculosis hospital that has now been converted into a tourist attraction. We paid for a six hour overnight tour which allowed for free roam throughout the floors of the building. 

Most people regard the Sanatorium as being one of the most haunted buildings in the country. And yeah. It’s scary as hell. 

I don’t have exactly just one story to tell, but multiple. Most of these things are small but add up to a lot of what has been said about the building. 

First off, our group started on the third floor, made our way up to the fifth, given free roam for about two hours or so, with a break, and then we toured the first and second floors. The scariest thing that happened to me was on the first floor, and my friend noticed some really odd things on the upper floors. 

She said she smelled perfume at random occurrences, when neither of us were wearing any sort. We probably both smelled awful, it was hot and this building didn’t have much in the way of ventilation. 

While on the fourth floor and in the surgery room, she was very creeped out and felt very sick. We both did not like the fourth floor much at all, and that is actually where most of the sightings of shadow people are found. 

The fifth floor was probably the most comfortable out of all the upper floors. Some of it was outside, and felt very cool compared to the rest of the building. However, a nurse committed suicide on that floor or was killed. No one truly knows. However, I do know I was standing right under the light fixture in which she was found hanging. She was also pregnant when she died, and I started feeling kind of sick and had cramping/pain in my lower abdomen while standing under the fixture (I am female, so…).  

The creepiest part happened to me on the first floor. We were using our phones as flashlights because we didn’t bring proper ones (which was really stupid in my opinion). My friend decided to take some pictures of what was probably the kitchen. In order to take a picture on the phone, the flashlight had to turn off. Since it was dark, obviously the flash of the camera went off. While she was taking the picture and the flash went off, I clearly saw a male figure smiling an evil smile, he looked like he had shaved blonde hair (like a buzzcut), was kinda skinny, had a black shirt and khaki pants, and had his hands behind his back. He was staring directly at her. I still clearly remember it. I told her about it and she said it was just another one of the group members messing with us, but I know it wasn’t. There weren’t any others around, and where we were only had one entrance that was in front of where we were standing. He also was not there when I managed to get my phone back and turn on the flashlight, and I did not hear anything. 

Needless to say, I got my money’s worth. Now my boyfriend says he wants to go with me someday. 

Nice and Creepy, I definitely give this a 10/10! Mod Liz

jerseydevious replied to your post “I just read all 52 pagesof ur DAV tag and im wonderin if palps is ever…”

somewhere, somewhen, a dude wearing a darth vader shirt that says, “i’m the boss” is weeping

Okay I admit my first reaction was to laugh because Vader’s agents in Anabasis quite literally call him “Boss”


In all seriousness Vader is not the boss of anything and never has been?

Like, I’m just old enough that I was into Star Wars back when only three movies existed. And I guess some people were surprised and even disappointed when TPM came out and we found out Anakin wasn’t some super-influential, socially powerful badass dude, but was instead a literal slave from the middle of nowhere.

But even as a kid my reaction was more like, “Yeah, of course he’s a slave.” Because Vader always was. You don’t even need the prequels to get that. 12 year old Fia was reading Vader as a slave on the basis of the OT alone. I mean, “I must obey my Master” is pretty unambiguous I feel, but just in case that didn’t quite make things clear enough, Vader spends all his time grovelling to Palpatine, literally on his knees, and taking orders from people he clearly doesn’t like or respect and whom we know he could just kill but he’s been ordered to obey them so he does. Even his offer to Luke on Bespin is the secretive offer of someone who doesn’t have the power to go against Palpatine head on, and who needs outside help.

Even his life support suit is more accessible to other people than it is to him. He’s about as far from “the boss” as it’s possible to get.

(Now, if anyone were ever to make a shirt showing Anakin in the act of tossing Palpatine down a reactor shaft, and label that “I’m the boss,” I could actually get behind that.)

Lucien Castle - Fake Ripper

Prompt: Hey can you write a Lucien story where you are so close to him and human and get kidnapped, turned and compelled to be a ripper as revenge against lucien so he finds you and works endlessly to help you break the compulsion and find who you truly are again ? Thanks lovely <3 you are amazing

Lucien pulled a girl inside the room and you immediately tensed. She was beautiful, that much was obvious with dark skin and curly black hair. But that didn’t really matter. You could hear her heart beating, the blood pumping through her brains. You could imagine the blood, how it would taste, whether it would be sweet or have that metallic aftertaste that you’d grown to love. You thought about what blood type she would be, a part of you excited to try something, someone new. You were practically salivating at the idea of tearing into the flesh of her neck, ripping open her carotid artery and drinking. You closed your eyes, imagining the way you would turn her around afterwards and watch her drop to the floor like a puppet, the life fading from her.

“Y/N.” Lucien stated, interrupting your daydream. You noticed that you had bitten into your tongue, blood filling your mouth as you looked at the girl opposite. She’d clearly been compelled, a lazy smile across her features.
“I can’t do it.” You whispered, shaking your head. “I’ll kill her.”
Lucien sighed, turning to the girl, surprising you. “Go home, forget this ever happened.”
Usually he would’ve just killed her, something you felt bad for but had started to get used to after the first dozen people he had brought in to try and help you control yourself.
“I can hear their blood and I can’t control it, I just want to rip into their throats and-” You began, sighing as you felt your impulse to kill grow.

“It’s okay, love, we’ll find a way.” He encouraged, rubbing his face with his hand. There was silence for a few moments and all you felt was this overwhelming guilt.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered, knowing he would hear as you looked at the ground. You knew he blamed himself for what happened to you but it was all your fault. You were human when it happened and Lucien had practically been your best friend, protecting you from anyone, even Klaus. That was until one day, Klaus needed him and you promised him you would be safe; that showed how wrong your judgement was. You were kidnapped by some enemy of Lucien’s, something he’d never forgive himself for. Whoever it was turned you and compelled you to be a ripper, hence your current predicament. At first, you killed a few dozen people and the guilt was so devastating that when Lucien found you, you wouldn’t go outside. You still haven’t, just in case.

“Are you actually apologising?” Lucien chuckled, walking over and crouching down in front of you.
“You’re so frustrated and I’ve taken up most of your time with this-” You began, shrugging and feeling all the guilt pile on top of each other. The guilt for Lucien, the guilt for those families you had destroyed.
“My dear,” Lucien interrupted, his hand stroking your cheek lightly. “This is nowhere near your fault. If anything, it is mine. I should’ve killed the one that took you, this would be long over.”
“You had no chance, Lucien. I don’t even know how it was.”
“I know.” He sighed. “Oh well, I’ll just have to teach you how to overcome the compulsion. I managed to stop being Niklaus, I’m sure I can teach you.”
“That’ll take years-”
“You are worth it.”

“We could ask Freya.” You suggested, hoping he would agree. You had become friends with the eldest Mikaelson sister; she was always so nice to you, and you had heard that witches could remove compulsion.
“That would be exceedingly painful, Y/N. No, I won’t.”
“Lucien, you’ve worked tirelessly to try and save me. Please let me do the one thing that will definitely work.”
He didn’t reply for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Fine.” He said, defeated. “If it means I can get you back then of course.”


So I already posted some normal selfies for black out but I also really wanted to post some of me in cosplay as well. Cosplay is a huge part of my life, and I’ve struggled with loving my skin because of it. It’s hard being a black Cosplayer sometimes because people will often over look the hard work and dedication we put into our Cosplays if we don’t cosplay to our race. Sometimes people for get that we are people and fans too. Not everyone is born with light skin and we shouldn’t be made to feel bad for cosplaying outside of skin tone.

when a habit becomes a home

(kakashi’s drunken confessions - inspired by x

Summary: It takes 21 days to break a habit. But it would only take her first to break a home.

I’m not sure how to get home, so I’m outside your apartment

He didn’t know where to call home anymore.

Was it between his shuriken-patterned sheets? Or with his head buried between her breasts, arms wrapped around her taut frame?

Kakashi liked to think home was a place where her pink hair would always be brushing against the nape of his neck. But perhaps it was too late for that anymore.

Keep reading

I love how people automatically think Asgore was the one who killed the six humans before you, when the only implication is what Toriel said before her fight, who as we all know has locked herself away in the Ruins and no one has actually seen in quite some time. How would she know what happens outside of the Ruins? She only presumed he did it, but she’s also got mixed feelings about the giant goofball so… In all likelihood the humans either died before arriving, or were killed off by monsters like Sans. Stop painting Asgore out to be some irredeemable child killer, from my understanding I don’t recall the other souls actually being verified as children, and Asgore could barely muster the courage to fight you. And as Toriel said he could’ve absorbed one soul, leave the barrier and go to outside collect more souls but he didn’t. You want to know why? He didn’t want to hurt others, he’s just not that kind of monster. He wasn’t in a rush to free the monsters in the name of war because he knew what the outcome would’ve been, but as a king he really couldn’t help but answer the peoples’ call for war or he would’ve been seen as a coward that can’t even protect his people. In reality him stalling for time saved the monsters, they couldn’t have even put a dent in the human population, if they were beaten in let’s say medieval times, what kind of hope would a small, weakened group have against a now advanced humanity? He did the best possible thing as king whether you like it or not. Asgore is a good person, he just wanted to spark life back into his people with hope. If you’re willing to forgive Asriel Dreemurr, who has killed his own people just to see the outcome of the story and made our lives hell, why should Asgore deserve any less? Asgore did nothing wrong, his decisions panned out well in the end did they not? He’s no fool, just a big, lovable oaf, and a kind king. But those are just my thoughts on the matter. Feel how you want, you don’t have to like the guy but please he doesn’t deserve to be hated.


[Images not mine. This fic was requested by Peaches aka the ever so lovely @queenofiinsanityI hope you all love it. This fic is mainly fluffy/cheesy nonsense with a sexy twist at the end. WARNING: MILD DADDY KINK Requests are always open! Xoxo, Doc]

           “What’s this? What’s this?” I sang, sliding down the hallway.
           “There’s colour everywhere
           What’s this?
           There’s white things in the air-” I hummed for a little bit, forgetting some of the words as I skipped into the kitchen and began getting the ingredients ready to bake Christmas cookies. 
           “There’s children throwing snowballs
           Instead of throwing heads
           They’re busy building toys
           And absolutely no one’s dead-”
           “What the hell are you doing, Y/N?” I heard his confused growl and I whipped around, dropping the flour. 
           He sat at the island cleaning guns with Frost and I giggled, spinning around to shake the tail of my reindeer onesie before I turned back to them. 
           “I’m getting into the Christmas spirit Puddin’, it’s two days away!” I said excitedly, picking up the bag of flour and moving to grab the broom. 
           “The what now?” He grunted and I smiled. 
           Mister J never celebrated Christmas, not once, but we’ve been together a long time and I love Christmas so this year I was going to celebrate no if’s, and’s, or’s, or buts. Having cleaned up my mess I began again. 
           “Christmas silly. You know, pine trees, cookies, snow, Santa Claus and all that great junk,” Twirling around everything was silent for a long time until I started rolling the dough for my cookies. 
           “We’re not celebratin’ Christmas this year or any year doll, so you might as well toss all of that out,” Mister J said and I paused, pouting. 
           “Why not Mister J? Everyone loves Christmas! Right Frosty?” I turned to Frost who stared at me blankly.
           “I hate Christmas,” he grumbled. 
           “Traitor. Okay, fine, everyone except you two fellas loves Christmas,” I put the tray in the oven and closed it, setting the timer.
           Mister J set his gun down rolling his neck and sighing in exasperation. He can be mad all he wants the big ole’ scrooge, he can moan and fuss and when he gets his present he will kick himself for ever hating Christmas. Mister J walked around the island and flicked the bell hanging from the zipper. 
           “We are not celebrating Christmas and if you got a problem with that Rudolph, you might not be able to play in all the reindeer games that will be goin’ down tomorrow night,” he said it coldly, his tone threatening and yet amused. 
           Crossing my arms over my chest I glared at him. He knows I’ve wanted to do this job with him for weeks. I had it all planned, I had been dreaming about it since I brought it up and now he wants to take it away and all because I want to celebrate Christmas with my him. 
           “Fine Mister Grinch, but you’re on my naughty-list now, and not in a good way!”
           He grinned at me and I huffed trudging off to the bedroom and slamming the door. Bah Humbug he says, doesn’t wanna celebrate he says, why I oughta’… I sighed. 
Going into my closet I shut the door behind me and turned on the light before sinking to the floor. Lifting the corner of my pink carpet I pulled up the board and pulled out Mister J’s gift. I had had it made special just for him and I wrapped it all nice and pretty with blue wrapping paper and a nice pink bow. Tucking it back in its special place I sat there a while. Smiling to myself I jingled the little bell on my onesie and looked through the box of ornaments and lights I had stashed away. 
           I won’t push Mister J, it was never a good to bug him too much. Besides, there was always next year and the year after that. I just had to warm him up to the idea, that’s all. Slipping out of my onesie I tucked it in the box and pushed it to the back of my closet. My Puddin’ and I have some work to do, I wasn’t giving up my Christmas dreams I was just putting them on the shelf for now until he was ready.

***Mister J’s P.O.V

           “Y/N!” I yelled, getting annoyed by the grating beeping of the cooking timer.
           She didn’t reply and I growled picking it up and throwing it out the window, hopefully it hits someone walking by the building to make it a bit more satisfying. Y/N didn’t reply again when I called, I don’t understand why this Christmas business was so important to her it was ridiculous. 
           Pulling open the oven I slipped on a mitt and tossed the tray of cookies onto the counter and paused. Admittedly they smelled fantastic; the smell of ginger filled the kitchen and gave it a warmer feel which I did not particularly like. I kicked the oven door shut and turned it off, turning back to the cookies. Growling I rolled my neck and glared at them accusingly.

***Harley’s P.O.V (Christmas Day)

           I woke up feeling a slight chill and I reached beside me for Mister J but he wasn’t there. Cracking open an eye I saw a black envelope resting on his pillow. Strange. Picking it up I pulled out a note-card and in the most elegant red calligraphy Mister J had written:
“Come outside, 
                         come to play, 
                                               Daddy’s got a present, 
                                                                                    Your Mister J.” 
           My tired brain was confused for a couple of seconds. What did he mean come to play? The big game was yesterday, we played all day killing people left right and centre, and then we played all night too when we got home. I had the bite marks and the bruises to prove it. Then it clicked in my head… today is Christmas… today is Christmas does that mean… I mean it is possible, and I am hoping it means what I think it means but would he really? Quickly I ran to the bathroom and brushed my teeth before I threw open the bedroom door. I gasped, looking at the blinking lights that lined the hall and I followed the trail of candy canes into the living room where he sat. 
           He looked in no way happy but he looked almost pleased sitting in his chair by the fire with a big Christmas tree beside him decorated with my ornaments, and he wore a black Santa hat with a red pom-pom. There was a single present under the tree in a black box with a red bow and the entire flat was covered in tinsel, lights, cotton (snow), and candy. I grinned skipping over to him and plopping down in his lap and I swung my legs over the arm of the chair. Twirling the pom-pom around my finger my hand dropped and I stroked his cheek and gave him the biggest kiss I could. 
           “You did all this for me, Puddin’?” My cheeks hurt from grinning so widely but I couldn’t help it. 
           “You know I’d do anything for you, Y/N. Now why don’t you open your gift?” He brushed his nose against mine. 
           “Wait! I forgot yours!” 
           I bolted from his lap, returning in record time and I placed his gift in his hand and sat before him. Resting my chin on his knee I felt like bouncing around like a child with the excitement I was feeling. 
           “Open it,” I felt giddy and impatient. 
           He opened the box and pulled out the purple and black barber blade I had gotten him with a mold of a gold joker at the bottom of the handle. In tiny gold lettering at the top of the blade was “To the King of Crime, Love your Q” and I watched as he stroked the blade with his thumb. He didn’t react though; he just stared at it for a long time. 
           “You hate it,” I pouted, “oh I’m sorry Puddin’, I really messed up on-”
           “No,” he said roughly and I perked up, getting onto my knees. 
           “It’s beautiful, so thoughtful,” his thumb brushed my lower lip, “thank you, Y/N.” 
           I smiled and he gestured to my gift with the blade. Oooooh goody! I crawled over to it and pulled off the lid squealing in delight as I pulled out a blue and pink rhinestone encrusted collar I had eyed up at a joint twelve blocks from here a few months back. Mister J had had it personalised though, a little gold jester charm hung down and on a metal square in the centre had in a fancy script “Daddy’s Little Monster”. 
“Oh Mister J, I love it!” 

***Mister J P.O.V

           It looked good on her, I noted, before she crawled back into my lap and she kissed me with the skill of the devil himself. Digging my fingers into her hips, she rolled them, rubbing herself against me and I growled. 
           “Merry Christmas, Mister J,” she said in a breathless whisper. 
           “The cookies are gone,”
           She knew damn well it wasn’t Frost but I wasn’t going to confirm anything for her. 
           “I can make more,” she whispered, her teeth grazing my earlobe, “but I want some Christmas Pudding.”
           Suddenly this holiday didn’t seem all that bad. I made a move to lift her but she slid away from me, her eyes dark and playful just the way I liked them. 
           “I have one more present, count to fifty Mister J then come to the room.” 
           She didn’t take her eyes off me as she backed away slowly, tantalizing and slow before she disappeared from my sight. I only made it to thirty before I went after her like a hungry wolf on the prowl. Pushing open the bedroom door she was there and waiting. She lay on the bed wearing nothing but a red silk ribbon that barely concealed anything, the big bow tied at the front to cover her breasts and she smiled at me.
           “Time to unwrap your present, daddy,”
           “Oh honey, I think this is the greatest present yet,” I purred in satisfaction. 
           Y/N arched her back and her rouged fingernails trailed down the pale expanse of her stomach, and danced between her legs where the ribbon covered her. My body was on fire just looking at her and I began to unbutton my shirt while watching her hands move. 
           “By the way,” I said, letting it fall to the floor. 
           “I also have another present for you,” I watched as her brows knit together in confusion and curiosity. 
           Reaching into my pant pocket I pulled out a pair of red and green furry handcuffs and a red and black ball gag. A small, sexy little gasp escaped her and I smirked as I moved slowly toward her. 
           “Merry Christmas, Y/N. Now, have you been naughty or nice?”

anonymous asked:

Hi there! I was wondering, do you know how Adam feels about his fans? I mean, other than scared? Ever since I watched that video where someone said he was handsome and he said "and married!" I just have this horrible guilt about having such a crush on him. He's a married man, and I'm all crazy about him. ><

source of pictures 

(video you are referencing

Adam does mostly talk about being scared, but I don’t think it means he doesn’t appreciate his fans. I can’t find anything where he has talked about it directly, but it seems he appreciates fans, even if he doesn’t like fame. Here are some quotes:

What about awards and general public reaction – people coming up to you in the street?

As far as awards go, it’s flattering and humbling to be honoured by your peers, but it doesn’t mean anything. Reactions in the street are always good – people don’t tend to come up to you and tell you you’re an a**hole. It’s never a long conversation anyway – they usually see that I’m more scared of them than they are of me and the whole power dynamic shifts. (x)

Colbert: Are you used to that yet? People so excited to see you all the time?
Adam: No, no. I haven’t really gone outside much in the last couple of months.
Colbert: Not since the whole Star Wars thing?
Adam: Yeah, no, no, not so much.
Colbert: Do you not like people coming up to you and going “Oh my gosh, you’re the guy who killed Han Solo!”
Adam: No I do!
Colbert: I was doing a child, by the way.
Adam: The kids, yeah, are great. I feel like before, parents were like, ‘stay away from my kid,’ and now they’re like ‘get up there and get a picture, you’ll appreciate it later.’ That part of it is good. I love that part. The parents is the scary thing.
Colbert: Does this scare you? That Newsweek magazine called you a millennial sex symbol? Do you like that?
Adam: No, no.
Colbert: That’s nice!
Adam: Yeah, that’s, that’s nice. I don’t know what to say to that.
Colbert: You don’t have to say anything. You just sit there and be sexy.
Adam: There’s so many people that would disagree with that probably.
Colbert: Would anyone disagree with that?
Audience: No!!!
Colbert: See?
Adam: Oooh, gosh.
Colbert: You gotta accept it. You gotta accept your sexiness. You know what, it’s like ice on the road. You gotta turn into the sexiness. 
Adam: Okay. (x)

Has Star Wars changed your life in a really big way?

As far as fame is concerned, yeah. Those movies are so cross generational. I’d say that it makes finding inspiration a little difficult because your job as an actor is to be a spy, and to experience and fail and do things wrong and learn from that. When you’re suddenly the one everyone’s looking at, it’s kind of hard to disappear and be the voyeur. But as a person, I hope nothing has changed. The problems I had before Star Wars are still there. I’m still aware that we’re all going to die alone. Trump could be our next president. (x)

Anyway, here is what I think:

To talk about that video: Adam smiles when the fan calls out “and handsome!” to him. I think he also might be waving to them after he says “and married” and the translator finishes translating. There is a lot of joking going on, too. What I take away from it is that he has a sense of humor, and also is very loyal to Joanne.

I understand your guilt, though. I feel bad sometimes about running a very obsessive blog all about Adam, but I do have boundaries for myself. A lot of other fans don’t have as many boundaries as I do and some have more than I do. Some people are against posting paparazzi photos, but I don’t mind posting them. Some people will say rather sexual things about Adam, but I choose to avoid that. Everyone has to make their own moral judgments and there isn’t really a right answer. As long as I think people are doing their best to be respectful to Adam and Joanne, I try not to judge others.

And honestly, being a fan and saying positive things about Adam is important because there are a lot of people who will say horribly negative things about him. Just look at twitter. His fame is a fact and people are going to talk about him no matter what. Fans are actually helping to keep the conversation about Adam positive, which I think is a good thing.

Robbie Thompson’s Keynote

Studied screenwriting at USC.  Title on SPN: co-executive producer, but doesn’t have any other cos.  Writer’s room: like military rank system with dictatorship, especially on SPN. Every show runs differently. You start as baby writer/staff writer—your job is to listen, be passionate, do your homework. Then you’re promoted to story editor, which is year 2.  Then executive story editor.  Neither executive nor editing anyone else’s work.  Then producer, coproducer, coexecutive producer, then executive producer.  Only EPs have say over everything—here Singer and Carver.  Illusion of democracy, and kind of has to be that way—showrunner must have a very strong hand or it’s chaos, though every show runs differently each with pluses and minuses.  Any job: you join a cult, and hope it’s a good one.

On some shows you do more hands-on work, post-production, which he loves.  

Wanted to do more Demon!Dean (so say we all) but was denied.  Usually beginning of year involves something about midyear finale. It’s like a road trip, where you may change the plan as you go, as with the actor who played Metatron who really impressed them.  Beginning of the season, had a sense of where we were going and Singer & Carver said “we want a musical episode,” and his reaction was, that’s absurd, then he really wanted to do it because it was absurd.  He likes those—he wrote Bitten, which some people like (including me!) and others … don’t.  Everyone comes in with pitches, 3 or 4.  A couple standalones and some arc ones.  But he only came in with musicals this time.  As the season comes on, they come back to you—S7, Charlie’s 1st episode, Girl with the Dungeons & Dragons Tattoo: has to be a myth episode and you may need to introduce a character who may need to do a lot of work b/c JP’s wife is about to give birth.  Pitching process is a bit like making your Christmas list for Santa, then Santa comes and tells you which toy you get to make.  I pitched a videogame episode 700 times.  There’s one episode I pitch every time and never get.  Staff doesn’t always see eye to eye.  We have our own headcanons.  

One rejected pitch: Fluff and Fold: Before the Bunker: Sam & Dean doing laundry and arguing about who has to watch the dryer b/c they don’t like others handling their clothes. They watch the dryer and they’re flashing back to what happened after Dean was sent to Purgatory—Dean’s POV (very dark) and what Sam was doing before he hit that fucking dog.  Dean’s story: It was the story of how Dean used every single bullet in the gun he had when he arrived in Purgatory. (!) Sam’s story: Everything Sam did to find his brother before he hit that fucking dog.  He met a hunter who kept telling him it was over. He’s following a dead-end lead and then he hits the dog. Dean uses the last bullet and gets that tomahawk thing.  They’d never tell each other but we’d know.  (I wish we’d gotten that, sigh.)

He loves fan fiction; don’t read it for contractual reasons, but love the writers.  

If he could bring any character back, it’d be Rufus, but there’s no Rufus without Bobby.  He pitches a spinoff of the two of them training the next gen: Grumpy Old Men of Letters as they go around the country opening up bunkers, fixing piping, getting drunk—all the action is offscreen.  

If he could have any guest star: William Shatner.

Q: Metatron talks a lot about narrative and story—was there supposed to be more to that?

A: Metatron’s story isn’t over. We love that character (sigh).  It’s fun having the scribe of God talk about writing—it’s my Bible fan fiction.  The actor totally gets that some people love to hate him.  (Nope.)

Q: favorite Shakespearean character?

A: had a great teacher in HS (awww) who spoke Shakespeare, and remembers analysis of Hamlet, then reencountering Hamlet in college—this is the best Gen X character ever, what a fucking slacker. At the time, he couldn’t make decisions either, so he identified.

Q: if you could do a spinoff what would you do?

A: Grumpy Old Men of Letters sounds good to me.

Q: Wayward Daughters?

A: fantastic idea with a lot of stories; would pick Bob Behrens to write it (Annie Alex Alexis Anne). Tweet it to the CW if you want to see it.  I don’t make the decisions.

Q: women’s portrayal on the show: how do you get into different mindsets for characters like Charlie?

A: I was writing 18 and 20, and was told that I needed to change 18 to Steyn because they were going to be the Frankenstein family and they killed Charlie. What? You don’t get a vote as a writer.  Respecting my contract while being honest about a terrible decision: I made a passionate case to not do that. You’re there to help as a writer, so you can’t just say no.  You have to provide a fix.  I had meetings with them, emails.  At one point Singer said “All right, counselor.”

Best writing advice I ever got: write what you know won’t work when you’re not a handsome hunter genius, but I know what it’s like to be a little brother. So the best advice is write what you feel.  Charlie has some of my verbal tics, but I have nothing in common with her—fake ID, parents lost, hacker—but I know what it’s like to feel like an outsider but not to give a shit.  It’s not about gender but connecting with the character on some level.  SPN characters aren’t mine but I love writing for them and I try to feel what they’re feeling in those moments.  It was fun to write Cain.  Our monsters need to be googleable, then we do our own versions. I’m not the father of murder but I know what it’s like to want to kill my brother.

SPN fanbase is unique—love that part of the job where people react to what we’ve done.  Most of my episodes all I see is the parts that didn’t work, that got cut, etc.—takes a while before I can watch them without pain. (OK, dude, you have won me over. I feel the same way about my own writing!)

Q: are there strategies you employ while writing to shut out expected reaction?

A: we’re aware of Twitter but that’s never part of the writing process. I have to honor the story, and people will feel what they’re going to feel which is as it should be. It’s also very hard to react to reactions.  Some people didn’t respond positively to the character of Amelia, but the decision not to extend her storyline was made four months before, not in response to negative fan reaction.  

Q: is there a season/event you’d have liked to have written?

A: All of them?  Would’ve loved to have written Soulless!Sam; thought JP was hilarious.  Demon!Dean too.  Interesting storyline, actor’s choices lent themselves to really cool dynamic.

Q: Thanks for bringing back Gabriel.

A: Has known Speight for 20+ years, great to collaborate with him.

Q: what’s it like to have such a big fandom?

A: so many great things to come from this show, including the shirt sales to destigmatize mental illness—but it comes so much from you guys.  How can I not be inspired? You guys are our lives. Short of Doctor Who, which went away for a while, I’ve never seen anything like this, especially during an initial run.  

Q: if you had full creative power over a new character in SPN, what would they be like?

A: Loki, then bring the Trickster back and have them fight.

Things that DESTROYED me in Lady Midnight


  • emma seeking julian out when she can’t sleep, crawling into his bed at night to keep away the nightmares
  • my best friend and my best love
  • “That was what people fought wars over, she thought, and killed each other over, and destroyed their lives for: this nerve-shredding mixture of longing and pleasure.”
  • tavvy covered head to toe in sugar
  • jem having to step outside of emma and julian’s parabatai party because it reminded him of Will and he misses Will so much. Every. Single. Day.
  • julian telling malcolm, “This is not a love story” on p. 92. Before all the rest of it.
  • julian nearly dying and emma, covered in his blood, realizes what she feels for him is more than just friendship
  • Perfect Diego
  • The super successful band from Brooklyn called The Mortal Instruments that simon is no longer a part of. 
  • emma saving julian the seat next to her. always.
  • the way emma and julian communicate by spelling words out on each other’s skin
  • I don’t live if you die!”
  • kieran and mark. mark and his siblings. mark and cristina. mark and emma. basically just everything about mark is heartrendingly beautiful.
  • “walk away from me,” she said harshly. “walk away.”
    his tension crested and fell; something in him seemed to collapse, water breaking against rocks. “I can’t,” he said, his voice low and broken, “God, I can’t.”
  • jem wanting to be an uncle to emma and saying that he has lots of experience being one *ugly sobbing*
  • emma and julian dancing
  • Malcolm’s love for Annabel
  • the love julian has for his siblings
  • “the stars will go out before I forget you, mark blackthorn.”
  • emma taking the whipping because it was less painful than having to watch it happen to julian
  • the way mark speaks 
  • julian telling emma that sometimes he pretends they are married and that his siblings are their children
  • everything about julian’s studio
  • Dru being self-conscious about her weight
  • the parabatai curse
  • julian wanting to run away with emma, not caring about the consequences
  • the lost herondale
  • “emma, i will never, never, give up on you.”
    “yes, you will.”

And lastly,

  •  “Why, lie?” and the comfort that Emma and Mark may or may not find in one another, to escape from the ones they truly love

if there is anything i missed, reblog and add it <3


iori’s eyes - All The People Outside Are Killing My Feelings


Iori’s eyes - All The People Outside Are Killing My Feelings