fake license

Sex Worker's Guide to protecting your Identity

Recently, a fellow sugar baby contacted me for help because one of her SD’s ended up being a jealous stalker; obtaining all of her personal info as blackmail. This spurred me to write out this condensed guide to prevent situations like that one or similar ones from happening again.

1) ALWAYS use a fake name, one that’s not similar to your actual name.

2) DON’T carry any forms of ID’s/cards/anything with your name on it when you see a client, ever. Buy a fake license ID with another name so you can still have an ID to show if you get carded to drink when you’re with a sugar daddy. It is illegal to carry certain states fake ID’s, so be careful of which you buy and don’t bring it for an escorting client.

3) NEVER park your car where they can see it or in an area where you need their remote or key access to leave the garage.

4) USE DIFFERENT PICTURES than the ones you use on your personal social media. It takes one search on Google reverse image search to blow open your entire front.

5) Have a fake birthday for your SW persona and remember the astrology sign it comes with.

6) Turn off ALL location services and apps, 10 minutes prior to meeting. I’ve been reading some girls have been outted due to certain social media apps now sharing “who’s around you” features.

7) Don’t give out what school or company you work for. Always lie, and tweak it. The point is to throw off their scent so they have a bunch of small lies they can’t piece together.

8) If possible, use a nickname or an ambiguous name on your own personal social media.

9) DO NOT SEND/SELL ANY PHOTOS OR VIDEOS WITH YOUR FACE IN IT. The only facial ones they should be able to access are the ones online that you can easily claim were stolen.

10) USE A WORK NUMBER. Your personal number is attached to a million and one things.

11) Cash is your best friend.

List of information about yourself to fib:
Birthdate
School
Company you work for
Hometown
Schools you have attended in the past
Name
Year of graduation
Any information pertaining family members

IMPORTANT: Stalkers have an affinity for remembering what seems like trivial (but important) details to piece together your identity later.

Kisses by Sunflower Beds

ao3 // for @reallyelegantsharkfish

It’s not like Cas didn’t know it would happen eventually, inevitably. Maybe he thought he’d be the first to go. He’s the immortal one, but the Winchesters did have a knack for surviving.

Still, knowing that something is going to happen, knowing that Sam and Dean would not live forever even though it felt like they should, doesn’t prepare him for when it does happen.

Sam and Dean go out like they always promised they would. Fighting. It’s an honourable death but what is the point of an honourable death, Cas wonders, when your loved ones are lost to you.

In his last moments, Dean sees his life flash before his eyes which is how he knows that this time it will stick, knows it’s for good and there’s no coming back from this one.

In truth, he doesn’t actually see his life but feels it. He’s overwhelmed by a sense of accomplishment and he associates it to every time he took care of Sammy when they were children, got them through the night, got his kid brother to laugh instead of ask questions. He associates it with the first time he shot a firearm and his dad called him a natural. The first time he saved a life. The first time he saved the world. The first time he made Cas come.

A wave of joy hits him after that. Prank wars with Sam. Antics with Charlie. Driving Baby. His first lazy sunday with Cas. Every lazy sunday with Cas after that.

With his dying breath, Dean smells motor oil and pie and sex and honey and it all smells good. It smells perfect melded together, though it shouldn’t, and if it were bottled the label would read Life of Dean Winchester. He doesn’t smell blood or burning flesh or sulfur.

He hears his favourite tune along with Cas’ clumsy mumble and Sam’s off key singing.

Dean feels his life slip away with all his senses save for sight. That’s not to say he doesn’t see anything. He sees tree twigs that look big in the chubby hands of children, he sees long dark hair he hasn’t encountered before, a stone path and a bed of sunflowers and the sight of an ugly yellow backpack in Baby’s backseat. He doesn’t remember any of these things, not really, but he still somehow recognises them. They feel like memories that belong to him.

He doesn’t spare it much more thought than that. Oddly enough, Dean’s last thought is of the botanical garden Cas had wanted- insisted on- them going to. Dean didn’t care much for it but agreed because he wasn’t one to deny Cas anything. Still, it took them years to find the time to make the trip.

Sam decided to come along because there’s a library in the area that has a whole section on south american lore, something the men of letters bunker was lacking. He knew he was essentially crashing their date so Sam offered shotgun to Cas.

He was a little cramped in the backseat and had to angle his body sideways to make room for his legs but he noticed how when Dean’s hand wasn’t on the gear shift it was in Cas’ so he didn’t mind so much.

Halfway there was when they got the call that lead the brothers to their final case. To this final moment where Dean’s only regret is that he doesn’t get the chance to be led around between patches of greenery by Cas as the angel prattles on about one fact or another.

Castiel drives the impala back to the bunker. He could have flown it but that didn’t feel right. He gets pulled over once and he thinks the officer takes pity on him. Cas can imagine what he looks like, the blue of his puffy eyes contrasting with the veiny red, hair looking like it’s been tugged at- because it has, his chapped gnawed-at lower lip stained red from the blood he can taste.

He doesn’t make it to the bed he shares with Dean. He pretends it’s because the bedroom is so far down the hall and he’s so tired and but it’s because he can’t bear the sight of it. He stumbles- he is exhausted- into a random room, sheds his trench coat halfway to the bed before he lands on it. Or lands on something on the bed.

SUPERNATURAL by Carver Edlund

It’s the room Charlie would stay in, he knows now. He doesn’t mean to, but he ends up cracking open the book and reading all about the time Sam and Dean came across the croatoan virus for the first time.

It’s the real Dean, the depiction is accurate and these are real events from the hunter’s life but it’s not really Dean. It grows the already too wide hole inside of Cas. He can’t bring Dean back. But he can’t be without him. So Cas leaves to meet versions of Dean he hasn’t come across before, versions of Dean even Chuck didn’t take the time to write about.

Dean is three, almost four, when Cas, invisible, appears in the boy’s Lawrence home. Dean is kneeling on the sofa beside a pregnant Mary who keeps telling him that it’s ok to touch.

“It’s your little brother in there, Dean,” She says.

Dean purses his still thin lips, scratches a hair full of hair that’s only blond like Mary’s in the summer, and says, “That’s where daddy put him?”

Mary chokes a little when she laughs and moves into a tamed explanation of the birds and the bees.

Cas doesn’t listen, his eyes are peeled on Dean. This little boy who has no idea he’ll one day save a dying sun. This little boy that scrunches his face just like his Dean does, that shakily places a hand on his mother’s belly all false bravado, that has freckles splayed across his cheeks.

All Cas wants to do is to move closer. Is to stare. Is to see if three year-old Dean has all the freckles his Dean has or if some appeared with time. All Cas wants is to hold this boy. To tell him he’s perfect. To tell him he is loved. Cas can’t do any of these things.

He decides that’s unacceptable.

At eight Dean already knows how to shoot a firearm, so when the kids in his class want to pretend the sticks they find along the fence of the school lot are guns he’s happy that one boy wants to stack twigs as high as he can instead.

Every recess, Dean looks for a pair of blue eyes and the darkest hair on the playground and the two go off together. Cas- though Dean calls him Scottie in this vessel- recounts to Dean these wild stories about a pair of heroes, and they run around reenacting them.

Keep reading

I had to go for a new license last week cause my old one is bent and I’m getting ready to travel🙈 it just came in the mail today and I thought it was funny timing after John @fatmaninalittlesuit posted about being under his license weight. I’m still not under the fake weight on my license but I’ve gained a little bit of a neck between these pics! 😂😂

Take Me to Church

Originally posted by sugapium

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook

Words: 2.6K

Summary: Taehyung teaches Jungkook a new kind of worship in the house of God.

A/N: i’m so sorry


“We gather here today to remember the life…” Taehyung heard from the front of the room, but all sound was soon drowned out by the ringing echo in his ears from his yawn and the watering of his eyes.  He looked around at all the friends and family members that sat with tears in their eyes, their hands absolutely glued to the white off-brand tissues provided by the church.  He scoffed to himself as he recognized some of those who were upset by the death of his very distant cousin, knowing there wasn’t a way in hell they even knew the guy.  Taehyung sighed as he situated in his spot in the fifth row of pews, feeling his butt already grow numb from the lack of padding, not understanding how people can attend church for hours on end sitting in these uncomfortable things.

The ‘room’, as Taehyung called it, (he’d never been to a church, before, so he didn’t know the proper word) reminded him of what would have been considered elegant in the late 80′s.  The pews were a mid-colored wood, the seats padded with red velvet, as was the floor, and the walls were made of red brick.  To the right, in the back corner of the ‘room’ was a black grand piano as well as a podium of some sort, which he guessed is where the projector and music was powered from.  On top of it was a black mic on a short stand accompanied by some of the plants that were offered to the grieving family.  A few feet in front of the piano, alongside the wall, was a door that led to a small hallway, but no one was ever allowed to go through because offices were located there.  The left wall was pretty bland other than a stain-glass window that ran the length of the wall to the ceiling with an image of Mary and baby Jesus, which was put in an inconvenient place since the light was shining directly into Taehyung’s eyes, making him squint the entire time he had been sitting there.

He didn’t know his cousin–he never even met him once.  Maybe they ran into each other or exchanged looks at those huge family reunions everyone had where you had all sorts of relatives you didn’t know existed, but he wouldn’t know the difference.  He didn’t even know his name until the priest said it in the opening speech.  

“Hey, are you alright?” a voice asked coming from his direct right and felt a comforting hand rest on his thigh, which shook Taehyung out of his thoughts.

He turned his attention to his boyfriend of three years, Jeon Jungkook.  He could never get tired of looking at his huge, brown doe eyes and the wrinkles that accompanied the edge of them, his big (but adorable) nose, his bunny-like smile that shone like the sun, and his dark brown hair that complimented his skin well.  He always looked younger than he actually was, making going out a hassle as they would constantly get pulled aside by security and have their I.D.s checked.  Once it was so bad, they actually called the cops thinking Jungkook was an underage with a fake license, and almost spent a night in jail and had to pay a fine.

They met in college, like any typical couple in their early twenties, and Taehyung could never get tired of telling the story.  Jungkook’s grandmother was a worker in the cafe, and he occasionally helped when he had the free time since she wasn’t aging very well, and for the free food.  Taehyung had gotten back from a party and went downstairs to get something sweet, something he couldn’t resist ever since he was a child–banana creme pudding.  He wasn’t drunk enough to see double vision, but it was enough to effect his walking, and as he entered the cafe, he just so happened to bump into a boy his age carrying a large cargo of products, which just so happened to be banana creme pudding.  Since that day, he got pudding every single night, hoping to bump into Jungkook, until one day he came to Taehyung’s dorm, giving him an entire crate full of banana creme pudding.

It was something so silly that Taehyung could never forget it, and something he certainly didn’t expect to turn into something as beautiful as his life with Jungkook.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he responded with a sigh, throwing an arm around the younger and crossing his legs in comfort.  “Just bored as hell.”

Jungkook sat forward as his eyes widened at Taehyung, squeezing his thigh.  “Tae, don’t curse in church.  It’s bad enough two gays are in here…” he trailed off as he searched around to see if anyone was giving them unwanted attention, but thankfully they were all focused on the service.

“Or what?  I’ll go to hell?” Taehyung asked with emphasis on hell as he raised his eyebrow with a smirk on his face.  “I think we’ve both already established that.”

Jungkook sighed and looked forward, trying his best to pay attention to the funeral service for the sake of the people around him, but the whole thing was boring to him.  Normally, he’d feel awful and console those who were effected, but since it didn’t matter to Taehyung, it was like sitting through a boring college lecture that lasted for hours.

“I’m bored, too,” Taehyung responded with a groan.

“I guess we shouldn’t expect anything different from a funeral.”

“Let’s go explore the church,” Taehyung suggested.  “People won’t question our leaving, they’ll think we went to a separate area because I’m crying too hard.”

Jungkook bit his lip at the idea of living, knowing it would be a huge disrespect to both the dead and Taehyung’s family, but decided to go along with his idea with the slight nod of his head.

“Okay, let me do this first,” Taehyung whispered with a sigh and began to hold his breath, holding his fist in front of his mouth, and soon tears were spilling out of his eyes like he had just lost his own mother.

“Tae.. Tae are you alright?  Why are you crying?” Jungkook panicked, rubbing his hand on his shoulder blades, unsure of what had gotten into his mischievous boyfriend.

He moved his eyes to look at Jungkook with a slight smirk, mouthing the words ‘acting’ before returning to his fake fit, but had Jungkook known any better, his heart would have crushed at the sight of a single tear leaving the older’s eyes.

“Alright, let’s go,” Taehyung whispered, tugging on Jungkook’s hand.  His face was red and soaked from the salted tears, like he’d been crying since the second the service started.

He led Jungkook up the pews and out of the ‘room’, keeping up his act until they were free from others as they entered the dimmed rest of the church.

“That was easier than I thought,” Taehyung commented with no crack in his voice, like tears had never even left his eyes.

“Now what?” Jungkook asked, scanning the dark hallway they found themselves in, unsure of where exactly Taehyung planned to go.

The older shrugged, but continued walking forward, eyeing nearby doors as they ventured into the hallway, curious to where each one led.  He opened some which led to nurseries, the kitchen, a bathroom, and a small study room, which were all too plain and empty for any sort of entertainment.

They had almost completed a full circle, until they approached a door next to the entrance of the church that had a sign on it to keep out.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Taehyung thought and led Jungkook to it, grasping his wrist with eagerness.

“T-Tae, that says ‘Keep Out’.  We shouldn’t intrude..”

“Kook, no one’s going to be in there.  Church is on Sunday, today’s Friday.  Besides, anyone who is here, is going to be attending the service.  We’re fine,” he assured, opening the door that led to the almost pitch black, narrow hallway.

“Is this the hallway that leads to the door where the service is?” Jungkook asked, noticing a small crack of light at the other end of the hallway, hearing parts of the service.

“Probably,” Taehyung responded, feeling his way on the right wall until he found a door and opened it to find a huge table with chairs lining the sides and the ends, almost like a business room.

He let go of Jungkook’s hand as he flicked on the lights, which were surprisingly dim, and sat at the head chair with his legs crossed at the ankles on top of the table.  Jungkook rolled his eyes and chuckled at the thought of Taehyung ever being a businessman.

“You’re so silly, babe,” he joked, leaning against the white wall with his arms folded across his chest.

“That’s Taehyung to you,” Taehyung snapped with the pitch of his voice dropping a bit, causing Jungkook’s breath to hitch.  “Sit down,” he ordered, pointing to the end chair opposite of him.

He chuckled at the younger’s obedience and rose from his seat, slowly walking around the side of the table, dragging his left hand across the edge of the table as he approached Jungkook, not taking his eyes off him for a second as he licked his lips a little too sinister for the place they were in.

“You know, Jungkook,” he started, walking behind him and massaging his shoulders, instantly melting into Taehyung’s skilled, slightly tanned hands.  “There’s a story about how mankind started.  Do you know that story?  About Adam and Eve?”

“Mmm..” he responded, unable to form words as Taehyung took him to absolute relaxation.

“If we were them, I wouldn’t be able to resist you.  Imagine how long and how many times I would fuck you, all alone, with no one to interrupt us…” he whispered into Jungkook’s ear, sending shivers down his spine as he felt Taehyung’s breath on his neck and shell of his ear.

“T-Taehyung… we’re in a ch-church…” he mumbled, feeling his mind begin to cloud as he relaxed more and more and felt his dark wash jeans begin to tighten.

“Is that a bulge I see growing down there?” he growls, running one of his hands down the younger’s clothed chest.  “Tsk, tsk, tsk, and you’re scolding me for thinking this way in church.”

Taehyung leans over and runs his hand down to the tent growing in Jungkook’s pants, drawing a moan from his throat as his head fell back into the crease of Taehyung’s neck as he began kissing and sucking on Jungkook’s neck, making the heat in the pit of the younger’s stomach take over his rational thoughts.

“Taehyung, please…” he begged, grabbing onto some of his boyfriend’s hair and tugging on it, feeling his smile on his neck.

“Please what?” he asked teasingly.

“T-Touch me…” Jungkook moaned as he gripped the sides of his chair, creating newfound scratches on the arm rests.

“Table. Now,” Taehyung demanded, and Jungkook quickly rose, sitting on the edge of the table to face Taehyung who was biting his plump bottom lip with lust in his dark brown eyes.

Jungkook supported himself with his hands as Taehyung unbuttoned his jeans, wrapping his hands around the back of Jungkook’s sides to completely remove them and his boxers, watching as as the younger’s already hardened dick sprung onto his stomach.

“Hard for me already,” Taehyung growled before taking Jungkook’s full length into his mouth, causing the younger to almost lose his grip on the table.

He looked up into the younger’s eyes, watching his face contort into several looks of pleasure as Taehyung’s tongue played along his shaft and his mouth tightened as he moved up and down, using his hand to massage the base.  His thighs were trembling as Taehyung deep throated his dick, not choking or resisting for a second, like he’d been doing it for quite some time.

“Fuck this feels good, Tae,” Jungkook moaned, tilting his head back in bliss.

“Turn around,” he grunted, removing his mouth and causing Jungkook to whine from the void Taehyung’s mouth left him, but was taken aback by pleasure once again when he felt a finger at his entrance and winced with both pain and pleasure as it entered him.

“You’re always so tight for me, baby,” Taehyung growled, adding another finger coated in his saliva, scissoring them and stretching Jungkook as he moaned, no longer feeling slight pain.

He heard the undoing of a belt and the drop of jeans as Taehyung towered over him, spitting down on his own dick and jerking it, trying to make Jungkook as comfortable as possible.

“Now, we have to do this quick, people will start to notice we’re gone,” Taehyung hissed, flipping Jungkook to face him, and dragging his ass off the edge of the table, pulling his legs to his shoulders as he lined up his tip with jis entrance.

He looked up at the younger for consent and he gave him a nod as he began to fill Jungkook slowly, creating more faces of pleasure as he entered him completely, not moving at first to give time to adjust.

He begins to slowly move his hips, holding onto Jungkook’s hips for leverage as he gains speed.  Jungkook throws his head back in a moaning mess, covering his mouth to muffle them, but his hand is removed by Taehyung, only to bite his lip as a replacement.

“Let me hear you, baby.  I wanna hear how much you like it when I fuck you,” Taehyung hissed, quickening his pace as Jungkook’s moans and the sound of skin against skin echoes on the walls.

“Don’t stop, please, fuck,” Jungkook begs as Taehyung thrusts hard into him, causing Jungkook to almost fall over.  

“You’re such a little slut for me, begging to get fucked in a church,” Taehyung grunts between thrusts as beads of sweat begin to form on his forehead.

“You’re so big Tae–fuck!!” he cries out as Taehyung finds his prostate, forcing his walls to clench around his length as he’s sent closer to the edge.

“I can feel you tightening around my dick.  I’m gonna make you come all over this fucking table.”

Fuck, keep talking…” he begs as he begins to concentrate on his orgasm.

“If we were alone in this damn church right now, I’d fuck you in every single room and so hard you’d be asking me to give you mercy, but not even God can stop me from fucking you to oblivion.”

With a few more hard thrusts Jungkook releases onto his stomach and chest and a few drops on the table, crying out in pleasure as he rides out his high.

“Fuck you’re so good..” Jungkook hisses as he watches Taehyung thrust into him, feeling them become more erratic and sloppy, knowing he’s going to finish anytime soon.  “Come inside me, Taehyung.  I wanna walk around in this church with your cum inside of me.”

“Jungkook-ah, I’m coming,” he moans with two hard and sloppy thrusts and releases into the younger, pumping himself a few more times while he catches his breath and recovers, wiping the sweat off of himself with the sleeve of his black sweater.

Jungkook gets up to redress himself, when a hand pushes him back onto the table and he feels Taehyung’s tongue drag across his abs, licking the liquid off of him and swallowing all of it, turning Jungkook on once again, but he knew he’d have to wait to get home for another round.

They reentered the service after freshening up in the bathroom, which was now moved to the cafeteria where food was being served, where they met up with Taehyung’s parents, who saved them a table.

“Where were you two?” his mother asked as she took a bite of her food.

“I decided I’d show Jungkook how we worship in the house of God.”

Don’t think it escaped me that the most private celebrity on the planet, Janet Jackson, posted a photo of her (adorable) baby, yet OTHERS who aren’t private AT ALL as they disclose fake marriage licenses, fake birth certificates, birth dates and the like, don’t show even a hand or a foot of their own children.

If people don’t get it now, they NEVER will. There is a difference between being PRIVATE (which Kerry is NOT) and being SECRETIVE (which is what Kerry is, because she has secrets to protect), Kerry CANNOT show her children because the cat would be out of the bag. It has NOTHING to do with privacy. For the love of God, she used dolls to appear in public and had a fake nanny carry some random child (if that was an actual child, which I am unsure of) put of the Ritz.
Get a clue.

you wanted something to get you through your exams, he had it. you wanted a fake license, he could get it. you wanted something to hurt you, he was it.

- maggie stiefvater, the dream thieves

Bungou Stray Dogs Book 1: Dazai Osamu’s Entrance Exam [Chapter 3 Part 7-9]

OKAY EVERYONE I’VE LOOKED THROUGH EVERYTHING AND FIGURED OUT THE PROBLEM!!!

so, first of all, chapter 3 part 5 didn’t have any tags, so some of you who were looking for the translations through the tags might’ve missed it. I deleted the re-post of ch 3 pt 5 already~ I didn’t know why I didn’t add tags, maybe I forgot? Maybe I was in a rush? I don’t really remember… anyways, I added the tags now!

Also, there were supposed to be TWO updates! ch 3 pt 7-9 and pt 10-12 were supposed to be separate. But in the archive I used to share docs between @vanillue and I, it was titled 7-12 so I didn’t bother checking twice when I uploaded, here’s the missing part between 6 and 10! I also renamed ch 3 pt 7-12 to 10-12!!!

I hope this clears out any confusion >< 

Keep reading

the world’s a nightmare (but so am i)
↳joseph kavinsky. you wanted something to get you through exams, he had it. you wanted a fake license, he could get it. you wanted something to hurt you, he was it. [l i s t e n]

i. love, sex, death - fall out boy  ii. after every party i die - iamx  iii. don’t mess with me - temposhark iv. i’m only joking - kongos v. tear away - drowning pool vi. survive - dope vii. smells like teen spirit - mujuice ft. tori amos  viii. drive it like you stole it - glitch mob ix. tick tick boom boom - razihel x. mad hatter (kxa remix) - melanie martinez xi. alice practice - crystal castles xii. emporer’s new clothes - panic! at the disco xiii. na na na (na na na na na na na na na) - my chemical romance xiv. rpm - sugar ray xv. break - three days grace

“I knew a person who worked for an insurance company. I’d give her some money and then she’d give me all the information I needed to open fake credit lines. I’d create fake drivers licenses and then go into stores and open up lines of credit. You can buy about $10,000 worth of stuff at a time, and then sell it for 70% of face value. I’d also rent cars under their name, change the VIN number, and then sell them with fake titles. You can print a fake title on nice parchment, add a watermark, and nobody looks too close. Then even after I destroyed their credit, I could still use their information. I could print up some fake checks with their name on it and cash them at banks. My checks had magnetic ink and everything. I learned it all on the Internet. I tried to stay emotionally detached. I never learned too much about the people. They were just names to me. Nothing personal. Plus all of them were government employees. So why should I feel guilty? Does the government feel guilty about slavery?”

(Federal Correctional Institution: Cumberland, Maryland)

“Hey RrRisorRri, check outside,” you say through the mic. It’s just you and your ride, a young conscript with a fake pilot license and a real food transport vessel.

“You needed a lift, rRright?”

Alone

A/N: So this is the Winchester Sister fic i was talking about earlier :) If you would like this to be a series let me know and if i don’t get any feedback i will not make it one, its all in your hands aha, this is short but its just for you to kind of get an idea of it :) Enjoy! xx

Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam. 

Mentioned: John, Bobby.

Warning: Language

Word Count: 1040




My life always felt like like giant blur, like i was drowning in water but i could breath but every once in awhile i couldn’t and my heart would stop, i was in a constant state of anxiety but that comes with the life i live, when you know what truly is out there, monsters. Anyone could be one, the person standing beside you, the lady you gave a smile to or the man you bumped into. The buildings you walk into or passed by could be haunted, your own home could be haunted. It’s not the best life but it’s the life i got thrown into, it’s the life that killed my Mother, the life my father left me for, it’s the life that left me all alone at 18.  

I had other family out there, my Dad told me i did, he told me i had two brothers and that once the “bad man” was gone we could be a family and i could meet them, that was 10 years ago, he never came back my Mum got depressed, she loved him so deeply and when he never came back that was her breaking point, she held on for a few years, she tried to be brave and push the hurt away for me but then she decided she couldn’t do it any more, she killed herself when i was 11.

They threw me in the foster system because no one knew where my Dad was and since i didn’t know my brothers names i had no one, the only things i had with me was a few pictures of my mother, me and my father. A journal my dad gave me the night he left and told me only to read it if he wasn’t back within a few years, which of course i followed them. Reading his journal opened my eyes, gave me a new outlook on the world that i hated so deeply for doing what it did to me.

After i got into the book and started filling my head up with the knowledge that was in it, i also started adding to it and creating my own journal. By the time i was 13 i was already hunting, i had a small collection of necessary weapons, the only ones i could have without having to worry too much about anyone finding them. A small hand gun, a silencer, and about 3 different types of knifes, not including my dad’s old knife, which i never dared to use on hunts because i didn’t wanna lose it, it was the only thing i had left of him other than a few pictures and his journal.

The best thing about being a hunter in the teenie bopper days was they always underestimated you, which was always a plus on your side. Sometimes you would even let them catch you and use yourself as bait just to gain the upperhand and it always worked, sometimes you were cutting it close but always made it out in the end, broken bones, bruises and all.

You bounced around from house to house between the ages of 11 and 15, your foster parents always decided within the first month they didn’t want you because you had ‘issues’ AKA they snooped through your shit and found all your research and writing on what really goes bump in the night. Eventually you decided about 7 months before your 16th birthday you were done being tossed around, you saved up the money that you stole or was given to you by your ‘foster parents’, you also learned a thing or two about pickpocketing.

You were now 18, have been on the road by yourself or about 2 and a half years now, you loved it, traveling through the states. There was a lot of perks to this life, the fake I.Ds, fake credit cards, Fake license you name it. The only thing that sucked was being alone all the time, you never stopped searching for your father or your brothers, you only assumed they were in the life to. You never truly put in enough effort looking for them and you knew why, you were afraid of rejection or that they would leave you like your father did and never come back.

You got in contact with someone named Bobby Singer awhile ago, you ran into him during a hunt when you were 14, he knew your Dad and your brothers you were suppose to meet up after but you got picked up by the cops your foster parents reported you missing at the time and well they found you before you got a chance to meet back up with Bobby, you never heard from him again.

After almost dying during a hunt you decided you needed to get out or needed to find your father. Talking to every hunter you ran into or already had contact with you picked up enough information about your brothers to track them down, there was a few times that as soon as they found out you were a Winchester the guns were raised and they tried to killed you, but being the con artist you’ve become it was easy to get them to put the guns down. You kept trying to gain up the courage to go find them, until you eventually did.

You found the place they were staying at, it didn’t look like much from the outside, you sighed stepping out of your vehicle straightening your outfit the best you could, you pushed your long hair back behind your ears before taking in a deep breath knocking on the big door a few times. A few moments later you heard footsteps and the door opening revealing a tall puppy like man with long brown hair that sure as hell looked a lot like your father, only younger.

“Is John or Bobby here?” You quietly asked, staring at the ground.

“Who’s asking?” Another man, shorter came up from behind the taller man “Dean” the taller man scolded the shorter one, Dean.

“Uh me” you gave them a small polite smile.

“And who are you?” Dean asked


“Im y/n, y/n Winchester, John was my Father.”



Cece Drake: The Introduction to Big A/Uber A/Red Coat/Black Veil, Season 2 and Season 3

So during the PLL hiatus I usually go back and re-watch things from the beginning. So, I was watching season 2, specifically the ending episodes of season 2 that lead up to the finale, and I noticed something. They were literally setting us up for Cece arriving as big A since Season 2 episode 18, a whole 14 episodes before she graces our screens. In 2x18 Caleb is helping Spencer, Aria, and Emily trying to clear up the footage from the flash drive they got from the locker, when they cleared it up all of a sudden they find a drivers license on the floor. 

The liars realize it’s Alison with a wig on, they didn’t know why she had this fake drivers license when she already had another one. Later on Spencer breaks down and tells Hanna that Caleb was helping them, she shows her the fake ID and Hanna tells Spencer that she had seen Ali in that wig before. At the salon she saw Alison and she said she was pretending to be someone else, Vivian Darkbloom. Spencer then googles the name Vivian Darkbloom and figures out it’s an anagram for Vladimir Nabacov, the writer of Lolita. Hanna then goes over to her book shelf and takes out a copy of Lolita that she “borrowed” from Alison.

In the book, she finds a ticket stub with a claim number on it, she calls the laundry place asking if they still had whatever was left there, it turned out they did. Spencer then goes to there and picks up the red coat, In the red coat the girls find a phone number, 215-469-3561. The girls call the number and when there’s no answer they leave a message saying they were friends of Vivian and to please call them back. 

Later that same episode, after there was no call back, Aria calls the number once again and this time their was an answer…. Someone with a very familiar voice. 

“No one here knows anyone named Vivian. Don’t call here again.” If anyone asks for someone you don’t know, you usually don’t get pissed off and hang up on them like that. But, that person did know someone named Vivian, and she did know who that coat belonged to, and she knew everything about everyone. The girl on the other end of that phone call? Cece Drake. 

During the next couple episodes the girls investigate what little leads they have, ultimately leading to dead ends. After 2x23 the red coat seems to disappear into thin air, the girls didn’t even know it was missing. Something they found (well, that Jason provided them with) was a bag full of Alison’s things, they went through every little thing in the bag until they came across this post card, on the front it had a picture of “The Lost Woods Resort” and the back was left blank other than the #1.

Now, we get to the 2x25 finale, the girls talk to Mona at the masked ball prompting a flashback 

Mona had run into Alison in Brookhaven a week before she went missing, when Mona saw her, she was dressed as Vivian Darkbloom in the Red Coat and brunette wig. When Mona questioned what she was doing there, Alison said she was spying on someone and tried to get rid of her, but Mona wouldn’t go so easily. Alison asked what it would take for her to make like she never saw her there, Mona replied that she wanted to be popular… So, Alison took out the postcard, the same Postcard the girls just found of the Lost Woods Resort and wrote down a number for her to call. Mona assumed that it was Alison’s number, but it wasn’t, it was Cece’s number, the number that was in the red coat…  215-469-3561

Cece and Mona had known each other since the beginning. When the girls called the phone number asking for Vivian Darkbloom, Cece knows immediately who was calling and comes back to rosewood, returning to her throne. Taking Mona back under her wing. Then, she steals her red coat back.

“I did everything you asked me to.”

Cece was the only person in the world who knew about Alison and her Vivian Darkbloom alias, making her those fake ID’s, giving her the name, etc.So, when the liars called Cece asking for Vivian Darkbloom… Cece knew they were looking for Alison and trying to figure out what happened to her. The liars literally knocked on A’s door to let her know they were coming and gave her an open invitation.

Now, let’s count the A appearances here….

Season 3 episode 1, Girl in red coat, Alison mask, with blonde hair forces Mona to dig up “Alison”/Bethany’s grave, Emily stands over the empty grave thinking she did it. (Which makes 100% sense because the first thing Cece would do after she realizes the girls are looking for answers, get rid of the body they think is Alison). While Hanna is visiting Mona in Radley, she hallucinates seeing Alison in a red coat reading Lolita, I mean hello… red coat…Vivian Darkbloom.. phone number… Big A.. (I actually have an entire theory surrounding Alison/Cece and Lolita, I may write it up sometime)

Season 3 episode 2, Emily receives a necklace of Bethany’s teeth with a message that read “Mona played with Dolls, I play with Body Parts”. At the end of the episode, red coat goes in to buy a bunch of black hoodies and black leather gloves. (A team… ASSEMBLE!) 

Season 3 episode 3  A gloved hand is seen pouring themselves a drink while making another necklace with the teeth. “A” puts the vodka bottle into a freezer full of ice. A body bag is chilling in the ice. “A” is seen unzipping the bag before the screen cuts to black.

Season 3 episode 4 Mona loses her visitation privileges, at the end of the episode A is at the Montecito airport in California, they hack into Radley and give Mona back her visitation rights. That same episode Hanna gets a text from A saying “I’m everywhere Hanna” just as Caleb reveals that his mom was involved in a car accident where the person was trying to run her off the road.

Season 3 episode 5 Oddly enough there’s no A ending this episode, someone moving to Rosewood perhaps (From California where Cece just happens to be FROM)? However, Garretts mother seemed to have a stroke and ended up in the hospital.

Season 3 episode 6 Spencer recovers a note from Mrs. Reynold’s hospital room, saying “April Rose has the proof”, at first they think it’s a person but later in the episode Jason comes to Spencer’s house and says it’s an antique shop. Jason drives both of them there. Spencer looks around and finally she sees a piece of jewelry that belonged to Alison, prompting a flashback.

In the flashback Spencer asks if the person who gave the anklet to her was just “another faceless, nameless, revolving door boyfriends who adore you” and Alison replies with a quiet “No, just a friend” she then proceeds to take off her robe, revealing a red party dress. Alison says she’s “Going out, my friend has someone who can get us ID’s, I’m going to a party to pick them up and I’ll be right back” and before she leaves she turns to Spencer and says “I gotta go, my friend’s here.” To which Spencer asks “Which friend?” and finally Alison replies, “You don’t know her.”

Judging by the charms on the anklet, one of which is a gold Eiffel Tower, the other being a gold “A” and the fact that Alison said Spencer wouldn’t know her, the only person on the show with that description and the access to making multiple fake ID’s and drivers licenses, you can bet the fingers point to one girl. Cece. 

In the last scene of 3x06, we see “A” eating a bowl of ice-cream, reading the news about the dismissal of charges in the DiLaurentis murder case. “A” then circles a “Rooms for Rent” ad in the Classified section, and proceeds to call the number on the ad. Someone’s moving to Rosewood and plans on staying awhile. I wonder who shows up the next episode?

Season 3 episode 7 “CrAzy”

Say hello to Big A everyone.