i thought the patch was an add on

EDIT II: This post has been going around as definite proof that the Cult Ending is fact, and the real way the game works. As such, I’ve been accused of spreading misinformation, to a degree that I’ve been getting extremely toxic and damaging messages.

I want to clarify at this point, this post was made as a vent, back when the data-mine of the Cult End was beginning, and we first got the info that it was a file in the game. The Data-Mine is pretty much finished now, at this point; nothing new to find. And it’s revealed that, while the ending is in a playable state, no coding in the game actually makes it possible to play it. There’s no outcome you can get to trigger this end.

No one is sure if this is a cut ending, future DLC, or if it’s a bug messing up the coding trigger. All we know is we found it, and I made a post too hasty in assumption. I made it when we still thought it was possible to achieve.

So please. Take this with a grain of salt. I don’t want to delete this post, as I feel like it would give the bad impression that I simply wanted to spread fire, with no care for repercussions. But I do want people to know I’ve learned now.

I’m sorry to everyone that I deceived with this. It wasn’t my intention at all, but execution doesn’t always pan out like we hope.


EDIT III: Good god, how often am I going to be updating this post.

Well, we have verification the ending isn’t as scrapped as we thought it was.

An update patch for Dream Daddy to fix bugs and add Robert’s Whittling minigame also secretly updated the coding of the Cult Ending. This info was found VIA data-mining the Level18 files as they were before and after.

The updated files include more trigger codings, and has added the achievement trigger for what we presume is “Escape the Margarita Zone,” as it is listed as “ACHIEVEMENT_SECRET.”

While it doesn’t necessarily mean the ending is definitely going to be playable in the future, it does make the ending’s chances of becoming a possible canon that much more of a reality.


Man. The reveal of what Joseph actually is both amazes and horrifies me further than what we’ve seen.

Okay, so data-mining revealed that Joseph does have a good ending, but it’s not much different from the bad. He still remains with Mary, but he takes you in as a side-man (AKA, he stays with you to continue an affair on Mary.) It’s not very good either, so I won’t be surprised to see people voice disappointment when they get it.

HOWEVER, data-mining found something even worse in the code. And that is Joseph has a third ending, a secret ending, and potentially, the TRUE ending of not only his route, but the game entirely. This ending has been dubbed “cult ending.”

This ending ended up revealing that Joseph is not at all what he seems. He’s not a man living a broken marriage, forcing himself to stay with an alcoholic and cheating wife to have some semblance of a family life with his kids. No, this family he’s created is simply a facade to hide who he is.

Joseph isn’t human. He some sort of demonic entity that has an ulterior motive. His children aren’t truly his children in the sense that you’d assume, they’re more like broken portions of himself, inhabiting child-like forms. And Mary is a woman who was forced to play a role to paint a picture, an illusion. Something she can’t escape from, because Joseph literally has her wrapped around his finger.

Joseph also is a leader of a cult (Obviously, given the fact that this ending is dubbed “cult end.”) I’m not too knowledgeable about the cult, but apparently it’s a front to rituals and the like. We know Robert was, at one point, a part of the cult, but isn’t any longer.

And finally, we know Joseph is drawing forth energy from other single dads, possibly both sexually and ritualistically, to bring the “Eternal King” back to life. He specifically needs the energy from single dads, and with some sort of dark magic, he lures them to his part of town for ease of access. He also is responsible for causing the events of them all being single. Every single dad, he influenced their destinies to fuel his own ambitions.

And once you find this out, you start noticing shit everywhere! There’s symbols of his cult in practically every part of town. Certain behaviors give an odd feeling. It’s just… it’s shocking to go back in to see this.

The cult end finishes with a man name Saul Graves coming to speak to you, and telling you to try and live your life normally. I’m not sure the entirety of the end, I guess it implies Joseph is on the run now? I don’t know, if anyone can clarify it, let me know.

Now, this was a beyond shocking twist to a lot of people. Especially since the game is so comedic, and the other routes, while they may have poignant moments, it’s nothing completely horrifying. I know I certainly was beyond stunned to discover this, but I honestly had a feeling something would happen like this. Though I wasn’t expecting it to actually be Joseph’s route to cause this; I thought it would’ve been a route where you don’t date any dads!

And I know that there’s some speculation that the “cult end” isn’t truly canon (As in, Joseph isn’t actually in a cult or is a demon, it’s just there for intrigue) and is just a dream end. But the fact you start noticing shit after experiencing the end, imagery and encounters, it just… I really can’t see this as being nothing but the truth. Even if you don’t get the ending where you find out what Joseph truly is, he’s still a demonic entity with dark motives, influencing the town and its people to his goals.

And then there’s something that’s honestly quite saddening to think. It’s because of the fact that, even if you don’t get the cult end, it doesn’t change what Joseph is. He’s using single dads’ energy to summon his King to the world. He SPECIFICALLY needs single dads. He has caused all of the other dads to lose their significant other to further his goals, from divorce to death. He’s the reason they’re single in the first place.

Because of this, you pairing up with a dad doesn’t give me a good feeling. Because he needs the dads to be single to draw their energy. And he doesn’t care about “true love” or “good ends.” He’ll tear you apart to forward his goals.

Joseph doesn’t care if Craig’s ending was the cutest thing anyone’s experienced. Joseph doesn’t care if you truly have a connection to Mat.

He needs you two to be single to feed off of you both. And he knows how to break you two apart without anyone ever expecting a thing.

Basically, the reveal of what Joseph is makes me look in fear at all of the other dads, look in fear of their good ends. Because even if it’s a happy end we experienced in what we saw, it implies it’s not meant to last. Down the road, we’ll either be broken up by Joseph’s influences, or he’ll influence one of our’s deaths.

And we won’t think anything odd about it. We’ll just think it didn’t work out, or that life is a cruel mistress.

This is so sinister, like I both love it for the intrigue, but hate it because I genuinely wanted cute moments, and now knowing what Joseph is, I can’t see them as cute anymore. I can’t see myself being happy with any of the Dad’s routes, because there’s that looming thought that it’ll just end in sadness again.

Fucking christ. I didn’t sign up for Dream Daddy to be this dark.


EDIT: This post really blew up, to the point that people are wondering if I’m making shit up due to lack of sources. I wasn’t intending this to get big, it was a vent/personal post, with at most some theories on implications that I thought would get lost to the various other posts people make. I made a reblog showing links that give more info, but for future people that find the post, here are various links on the info we have on the route.

Here’s some images found that pertain to this ending.

Here’s a transcript of how the route goes, from people descrambling the code. Also contains some more images.

Better quality textures of “Cultist Joseph.”

And finally, here’s how people did the data-mine.

Todoroki - Tutorial (Step By Step)

Thank you Janice on Twitter for asking me to show the drawing process of my arts.
She sent me this pic and I drew basic principles of drawing the face.

 Here is my drawing. You can see more below! :D

(Honestly, I thought my drawing is gonna be awful because lines on traditional art is hard to fix! But it became better than I expected!!! XD  —– Wanted to draw digital, but my photoshop trial period is ended. XP)

Enjoy!

Keep reading

Cosplay Public Service Announcement: AVOID THESE WIG CAPS

So, I got these wig caps at Sally Beauty Supply, and wore them for all four days of ECCC. They hurt my head somewhat while I was wearing them, and left my scalp rather sore afterward, but I thought it was just that they were a little small for me, and were causing some compression bruising. Since they were all the wig caps I had, I just kept using them. However, when I got home from the con, I noticed lines of what appeared to be chemical burns right where the edge of the wig cap rested on my forehead and scalp (swelling, redness, blisters, and patches of raw skin). Several days later, these burns are still healing, and I am full of regret.

Now, I’ve used many different wig caps before, but I have NEVER had anything like this happen. Also, I should add (to be fair) that my brother, who was using the neutral color of the same wig caps rather than the black, did not have problems, so it could just be that I have a bad batch somehow. Still, though, I would recommend being VERY cautious before using these wig caps. Have a backup with you, and maybe avoid them altogether if you have sensitive skin.

Tagging a few other cosplayers I know, so as to pass the word around: @aviva0017, @houkakyou, @flukeoffate, @jedi-goldberry-with-the-force

Morgan Rielly - Part Twenty-One

This is getting really really fun

My mind goes numb the father down I go. When the elevator stops at the elevator, it feels as if my stomach and heart and everything else vital to my very being continues the descend. I barely feel my legs moving as I somehow make it out the revolving doors and into the cool night.

Mason’s jacket does little to keep me warm, I’m sure it has to do with the fact that I’m wearing very little beneath it but I don’t mind, I don’t even feel the cold. I wonder vaguely what is going on upstairs right now and then a sudden thought sends panic through my veins.

What if Nick comes downstairs to find me?

I don’t know if he would actually try right now, but he had tried to get into my elevator. My surroundings come more into focus and I look back the throng of people to the street in search of a taxi, if there even are any. I’ve never hailed a cab before, only ever using my Lyft or Uber app to get rides but I’ve seen shows and movies, those are the same as real life right?

Stepping on the curb, I raise a hand and watch as vehicles whiz past and then I spot one. It’s not what I would have expected a taxi to look like, no obnoxious yellow with black lettering, instead it’s a simple white car with a taxi fare sign on the top. The driver pulls to the curb and I clamber into the backseat.

After giving the driver, a pleasant woman who must be in her early forties, my destination I slump back into my seat and cover my face with my hands. Tears hadn’t come yet and I willed them to keep at bay until I return to my hotel room. But behind the blackness of my closed eyes all I see is Nick, his mouth and hands running over some other woman’s body.

Disgust pools in my stomach and I think I might throw up. I had shook that woman’s hand before, I’d talked to her children before, one of whom was just four years younger than Nick and myself. How long had I been so blind to the signs? This distance between us, both physically and emotionally, his need to control me even more hundreds of miles away; the list in endless.

A dry sob escapes my mouth, still muffled by my hands but loud enough for the driver to hear me.

“Are you alright, honey?” She asks and I’m surprised at the southern accent to her words.

I try to throw the words “I’m fine” out but they just won’t go. I know if I open my mouth to speak everything in me will break and I won’t be able to stop the flood of tears drowning the inside of me already. Instead I just shake my head, it takes more energy to lie rather than tell, or nod, the truth.

“Cheating boyfriend.” It’s not another question, it’s a statement.

I lower my hands from my face and blink several times for the woman to come in focus, her eyes are not on the mirror looking back at me, she’s staring at the road. I swallow several times and take even more deep breaths.

“How did you know?” I ask, my voice raspy and betraying me with the sadness behind it.

“Honey, I’ve worn that very look several times in my life. I even have the wedding rings to prove it,” she laughs dryly, “it never gets any easier to begin with. First boyfriend?” The last part is a question.

“First serious,” I correct and she nods again.

“That’ll be the worst,” she says and I scowl. No shit. “I take it you’re not from here as well since I’m bringing you to a hotel. Long distance relationship?”

Again I nod and somehow she knows though she never looks at me.

“Every odd stacked against you,” she says and I don’t have a response. Her dark eyes follow the line of traffic, never once darting my direction. I look at her hands, and once when we pass under a street light, I see the glint of something shiny decorating her even darker skin.

“Looks like the odds finally went in your favor,” I say and this time her eyes finally meet mine, a smile breaking across her skin.

“Yes, but this time it was I leaving the wrong man and finding the right woman,” she practically glows and I can’t help the small feeling of resentment that muscles its way up. She looks so happy and she stares down at her ring in a way that I would kill to have someone look at me. I’m jealous.

“But it took me thirty-seven years to find her, and another five to get her to marry me. You have time, and despite what people might say, time heals you,” she says, finally meeting my eyes in the mirror. “Don’t think for a second that what that boy did to you was your own fault. If I know man, and I think I do, he will berate you and blame you in a way that makes you want to fall apart inside,” she speaks with such intensity that I can’t even bring myself to blink as she swivels in her seat to face me.

“You must not let him. Because as much as I can see in your eyes your entire world falling to pieces, it’s still forming. Don’t hide your heart, sweetheart. People always preach to be kind to everyone, to never hurt anyone but that’s not realistic now is it? You can be the kindest person on earth and still have moments where you want to hurt someone, rather it be on the outside or inside.

Now, before you get out of my cab, I have one more strong word of advice if you would like to hear it,” she pauses to wait for me to answer.

I nod.

She leans forward towards me and drops her voice down. She’s even prettier than I had initially thought.

“Hurt them before they hurt you. And if someone hurts you first, buckle down and knock them to the ground twice as hard. There’s no reason in this world to be walked over, and don’t ever let any man or woman, ever make you feel like you’re not good enough,” she finishes with a severity in her tone that brings something in me to the surface, something in me that screams revenge.

“Now, off you go,” she says, shooing me with her hands. “That’s enough deep talk with one stranger for the night.”

“But I need to pay you,” I say, reaching for me purse.

“Nonsense, I’ve been off the clock for the last half hour. I drive down the busy streets to pick up and man or woman who looks like they need help. You keep your money,” she scolds.

I frown at her, needing to repay her in some way. When she goes to face forward in her car again I reach out, putting my hand over hers where it lies on the center console. “Thank you,” I whisper, meaning it with every fiber of my mind and body.

“You’re welcome,” she says placing her other hand atop of mine for a brief moment and I look down in time to see two tattoos on her ring finger, opposite of the hand that currently wears a ring. Two long bands circle the flesh and two dates on each line stare back at me. Marriage and divorce. Memories.

-

I throw open my hotel room door and stalk inside. Every broken fragment in my body that I had felt in that elevator downtown is suddenly repaired and dying to be released. I toss my purse down onto the bed and remove my jacket. The weight of my phone in one of the pockets reminds me of the people I left behind at the hotel. Morgan’s face, crinkled with worry and anger, two of his outstretched pale hands pushing back on Nick’s chest run through my mind and I worry about what he might have done.

I tap the screen and cringe at the missed notifications.

Six missed calls from Nick

Four voicemails from Nick

Two messages from Jake

Three missed calls from Morgan

Fourteen messages from Nick

Six messages from Morgan

Three messages from Mason

One message from William Nylander

One missed call from Mom

The latter of the list dated from three hours ago so I don’t worry about that one. I scroll through the messages from Morgan first.

Where are you?

Y/N?

Answer me please

Pick up your fucking phone

Y/N

Y/N

The ones from William, Mason and Jake are much the same, the ones from Nick tell a much different story.

Please answer my call

Fuck Y/N, please!

Please hear me out

Y/N!

I love you

Baby

Please

I want to explain

Don’t leave me

Please don’t leave me

I love you

I’m so sorry

You’re my entire world. I fucked up, please please please call me

Baby please

I stare at the screen with a blank face. I don’t care what he has to say. I don’t want to hear him out. I don’t want anything to do with him and at the same time I want him to hurt. I erase the voice mails left by Nick without listening to them and clear my missed calls list.

Deciding that Morgan and the other three boys did nothing wrong, I text them all individually that I was back at the hotel and just wanted to be left alone for now. It hasn’t even been three seconds that I sent the message to Morgan that he’s calling me.

“I’m okay Morgan,” I say into the receiver, my voice eerily calm.

I hear Morgan’s sigh of relief from the other end and my heart softens just a little. “I promise I’m okay, you stay there and eat with your boys. I want some time to think. Alone.”

Morgan is quiet for a moment and I frown.

“Morgan, what did you do?” I ask slowly.

“I didn’t do anything! I wish I had, Mas kinda beat me to it,” he says and for about the fifth time tonight, my stomach drops.

“Mason? What did Mason do?”

“He may have broken a finger or two in his efforts to what I believe was kill Nick,” he says slowly.

“And how did he do?” I ask after a second of hesitation.

“Knocked him flat on his ass and then the bouncer was there between them, though I don’t think it was needed, Nick was pretty out of it,” he says and I can almost hear the pride in his voice.

I shake my head in surprise, I had never thought of Mason as one to defend me. Or even think of me worth being defended. “Where are you now?” I ask.

“On our way back to the hotel, just me, Mason and Jake that is. A few others wanted to come back with us but we told them to stay. No need to take Mas to the hospital, our trainer can patch him up pretty good himself. But if you want us to keep our distance then we will,” he adds the last part with a little bit of resentment but I ignore it.

“Are you… are you such you’re okay?” Morgan asks.

“I’m not okay, but I will be. I should have seen it coming, I was stupid to not see it when so many of you seemed to,” I sigh. “But I want my thoughts to be all my own, I’ll see you in the morning okay?”

Morgan sighs heavily. “Alright, but you call me for whatever reason.”

“Who else would I call?”

Silence.

“Goodnight, Morgan,” I say gently.

“Goodnight,” he whispers.

-

Morgan POV

“Can you please just sit down?” Mason snaps at me from the second bed in my hotel room, “You’re making me anxious.”

“Forgive me but your feelings are not at the top of priorities right now,” I snap right back, turning on my heel and walking back towards the door.

I couldn’t stop. Every time I tried to sit or lay down all I would do is get right back up again. Her expression when she turned away from that pathetic excuse of a human about did me in. There was no sadness on her face, just hurt in her eyes and defeat on her body. The way her shoulders had slumped and her footsteps had faltered as she steadied herself against the wall of the elevator, frantically trying to get the doors to close before Nick got to her.

When my hands had laid on his shoulders, fury that I had never experienced before swelled inside me. I wanted this man to hurt, I wanted him to see what he had caused, what I knew he would cause that first night Y/N had come to my apartment. I had seen the look in her eyes when she saw his name on her phone. The same exhaustion and emptiness had been in her eyes every time I was with her and he was mentioned.

He had looked at me like I was crazy, then realization must have crossed his face. A cocky, ego-infused face stared back at me, his mouth curled up in a sneer.

“Well look who it is, Morgan right? Y/N talked a lot about you,” he had said, his voice vibrating with anger. “So much so that I thought there was no doubt she was fucking you.”

Blood had rushed to my face and he took it as a triumph.

“But then last night, when she was on her back beneath me,” he said slowly, knowing exactly what he was doing. “She had felt so good, just like the last time and I knew she was still mine. I knew no one else had touched her the way I touched her,” his voice was so low that Mason was the only other person who could hear. “That’s why I put a ring on her, to make sure that you knew.”

It felt like a freight train to my stomach. The way he was talking about her, as if she was just a piece of property. That was when my hand formed a fist.

“She’ll come back to me, she always does,” he sneered and before I could do so much as take another step towards him, he was on his back.

I stared in amazement as Mason stood above him, a trickle of Nick’s blood running down his hand. He had stooped down over the withering mess on the ground.

“If you ever so much as look at her again, I’ll rip your throat out,” he had snarled.

And suddenly I was back on the plane to our second pre-season game of the year. A pretty girl had just boarded the plane in front of another social media advisor, Mason had told me about her but he had failed to mention just how beautiful she was. She kept her eyes low on her way down the plane and then back to her seat.

I had watched her exchange with Mason, the aggressiveness to her tone and the way her eyes glinted like at any moment she would leap across the table and rip out Mason’s throat, the exact way Mason was staring at Nick right now. “You can rip each other’s throats out later.” Steve had said, and at the time we had all laughed, thinking it was a joke. Then I’m brought back to when she had first met my eyes on that same night, contrary to what she had looked like talking to Mason, her eyes were soft and timid. Kind.

“Mason,” I had said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “No more. For now,” I added as Nick glared up at the two of us and then the bouncer had been there, telling us to leave which had surprised me.

“You don’t need us to stay?” I asked, looking around for any security guards.

“No. I saw what he did to the girl, he deserved it, if not more,” he had said, getting the staggering football player to his feet. The older woman he had been there with came rushing to his side, trying to look at the mark on his face but he had brushed her off, looking at the descending elevator, and what I had thought were tears from getting hit in the nose suddenly looked like tears of loss.

“Morgan, I’m telling you one last time,” Mason said, waking me from my thoughts. “If I know Y/N, and I do, I know she’s not upstairs crying in her hotel room. She’s thinking, and she’s planning. I wasn’t lying when I said she took anger management classes. Y/N can handle herself, even against him.”

We met each other’s eyes for a long moment, me ready to run out the door and to Y/N’s side, Mason content to go right to bed.

I sigh and he relaxes. “Fine, but if you’re sleeping in here I’ll suffocate you if you snore even once,” I say and he grins.

“You’ve been hanging out with Y/N a lot haven’t you?”

As I approach 1 year post-op I thought I’d show what forearm aftercare looks like once the bandages are off. In this drawer are silicone sleeves, silicone patches, compression sleeves, UV-protective sleeves, fabric sleeves (just for appearance), compression gloves, gauze, rolls of coban, a few moisturizers, and pieces of dycem.

I haven’t used most of these in months because I don’t need compression or physical therapy anymore but I keep them around in case the need ever comes up. Right now I just wear a silicone sleeve during the day and then moisturize my arm before bed but as the weather warms up I’ll add the UV-sleeve over the silicone. I want my scar to heal as well as possible so I’ve been adamant about keeping it protected from sunlight and having my sleeve on as often as possible. The general recommendation is to keep it protected from sunlight for at least 1 year but I’m probably going to wait a full 2.

N.E.I.G.H.B.O.R.S Pt.8 // Fanfic

Modern Friends AU // Nessian

Shoutout to @illyrianwings-nightcourt

The One With The Wedding Planning 


“So tell me again why I am coming with you?” Nesta asks, as Cassian and her walk down the street towards the bakery. “I feel like picking out a wedding cake is a thing you should do with your fiancee.” 

“She had a meeting and she says these kinds of things stress her out,” he replies with a shrug as he opens the door for her. Nesta glances around the bakery which looked like it was taken straight out of a bridal magazine. 

“Ah the happy couple! You look very cute together!” an old lady says, as she walks around the counter. Neither of them have time to correct her because she ushers them both into another room. “I have already set out the a few samples. This is our chocolate chip cake with a chocolate mousse filling.” 

Cassian takes a seat and eagerly takes a bite. “This one is amazing, here Nes take a bite,” he says, holding out the fork for him to take a bite. She leans over and takes a bite. She notices a flash in the corner of her eye and jumps back wiping the chocolate off of her face. 

“Didn’t mean to startle you dear, we like to take a picture of every happy couple that visits us,” she says, putting the camera down and handing the next piece of cake to Cassian. 

“Oh, we aren’t together. I am just his neighbor,” Nesta mumbles. The baker frowns and glances between the two of them.

 “I have an eye for these kinds of things and you two are definitely going to be picking out a wedding cake of your own someday,” she replies. Nesta frowns and shifts uncomfortably in her seat. 

“I think I like the chocolate one better,” Cassian says, completely oblivious to everything besides the cake. 

“So which was your favorite?” Cassian asks as they walk back towards his car. He doesn’t wait for her to respond before saying, “My favorite was definitely the chocolate with the chocolate mousse.” 

“Yeah, that was really good. So is that the winner?” Nesta asks. 

“No, I think we will probably go with the lemon and vanilla,” he replies, and Nesta can hear the disappointment in his voice. “Claire doesn’t really have a sweet tooth. She likes fruity things more than chocolate.” 

Nesta frowns, “How about both?” she suggests. 

“Claire’s been freaking out about spending a lot of money on this so she wants to with as little as possible,” he says. 

“How about you do what Rhys and Feyre did and have a small wedding with just close friends and family?” Nesta asks . 

“I already suggested that but she wants to invite all of her old high school friends, “our” college friends, her coworkers, and her old sorority friends,” he replies, and Nesta can hear the frustration in his voice. “It’s fine, it’s supposed to be her day.” 

Nesta stops walking which causes him to stop too. “That’s one of the stupidest things I have ever heard you say, Cassian. It’s your day too. You should be getting things both of you will enjoy. You shouldn’t sacrifice your happiness for hers.” 

“Yes, I should. That’s what boyfriends do,” he says.

Nesta runs a hand through her hair as she thinks about what she’s about to say. “No, getting married is about compromising, your going to be spending the rest of your life with Claire. Do you never want to eat chocolate cake again?” 

“Nes, just let it be, okay? I appreciate your help today but your not my therapist,” he says, and continues walking. 


“Back to the drawing board,” Cassian exclaims, barging into Nesta’s apartment and dropping the “Giant Wedding Binder Full of Dread and Anxiety” onto her kitchen table. 

Nesta, who had just crawled out of bed and was still in her pajamas, took another sip of her coffee before saying, “When I gave you the spare key to my apartment it was for emergencies not for you to barge into my apartment at-,” she pauses to look at the clock on her oven. “7:34 in the morning.” 

“Well, Claire stopped by this morning and finally took a look at everything we did and went through what she did and didn’t like,” he announces, beginning to pace her kitchen. 

She sets down her coffee and walks over to him, grabbing his arms to stop him from moving. “You need to calm down. Let’s start out with that she did like,” Nesta states, opening the binder up to the first page. “So what did she like?” 

“Nothing,” he retorts, taking a seat at her table and running a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I can do this anymore, Nes,” he confides. Nesta feels guilty for the way her hopes rise at the thought of him calling it off. “I love her and I want to marry her but she just keep saying no to everything. Why is wedding planning so stressful?”

Nesta bites her lip before speaking, “It’s just a day. It’s one day and then you’ll have the rest of your lives. Besides, you have me here to help so it won’t be too bad.” 

“I know, but don’t you think it’s a little weird that I am planning my wedding with my neighbor and not my future wife?” he spats, and Nesta is taken aback by the way he says neighbor. She knew they had their ruff patches but she thought they were at least friends. He must see it on her face because he quickly adds, “I didn’t mean it like that. I am glad I have your help.” 

“It’s fine, it’s totally understandable that you would want your fiancee to help pan your wedding and not your neighbor. What you said was the truth,” she replies in her stoic defense she always gets when she feels like she’s losing something she held dearly. “What do you want to start with? I have two hours before work.” 

She watches as he debates with himself mentally before saying, “Flowers. She wants roses.” 

She nods her head and looks down at the flower cut outs they had. She didn’t want him to see the disappointment she had on her face that he didn’t fight for their friendship. Why would he? Once he was married she would probably never see him again. 

Two posts in one day. Go me. 

BMC Headcanon

So I’ve quickly become a piece of theater trash so,… BE MORE CHILL IS HELLA BOMB SO LISTEN TO IT AND CHECK IT OUT IF YOU HAVENT ALREADY!

But anyway I have like a little headcanon I thought should be shared.

Michael loves Disney and he and Jeremy watch it together, but among the many patches Michael has on his jacket, one of them is a replica of a Wilderness Explorers patch that he got in Disney World when he was younger when he went with his dad. Because he has had his jacket ever since he was little but he has just been growing into it. He loves to constantly add new patches to it. (Such as the gay pride patch)

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So I’ve seen a bunch of cool vests here and thought I might add my aroace themed Jughead vest. I made this vest entirely myself by hand and sewed most of it with floss.

I love this vest! Hand painted is super punk! I love the Ace card and the riots not diets patches! Great job! Thanks for the submission @pyjama-punx!

hey, shoes anon here! the pic came out a little bright but yeah I found these while thrifting and I was wondering how you would style them, bc for me the pattern/colors make it kinda hard.. thanks for taking the time to open your submit and everything! <3


oh yeah, these are cute! i definitely think that these lend themselves to a kind of grungey/athletic type of style, and i whipped up a few different coords showing how i might style them myself! 

here’s my first take…(explanation and more coords under the cut!)

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WOO AT LAST!! Been working on this one for a little while.

Orcas are such facinating animals. They are the second most-widely distributed mammal on the planet (after humans), and they fill an ecological niche similar to our own. Not only do they vary widely in diet, dialects, and cultural behaviors, but in appearances as well. Again, much like humans :)

We often look at dorsal fins and saddle patches for telling individuals and populations apart. But there’s a TON of variation in rostrum shape, eyepatch size, and ventral markings as well. Just look at all these different orca faces!

I tried to cover a broad range of ecotypes and individuals to show all the variation orcas can have, but I came to realize during my research that there’s a lot more than I initially thought. That being the case, I may go back and add a few more individuals later (possibly even a few wild-caught captives like Nord and Gudrun, since they are so unique in addition to being from known, or sort-of known, populations).

By ‘Chance’ (Kraglin x Reader) Part 5

Synopsis: You meet the Xandarian man in the Iron Lotus and want him. However, there’s one problem: you don’t want him getting caught up in your line of work and the baggage attached to it.

A/N: Hope this is okay! Took a long time to write, but I’m happy with the direction so I hope you are too! Lots of love xxx

Ps. Forgive the smut – I’m terrible at writing it. Pps. Unedited. Not that it should be that bad.

@calicat79 @dontaskmemyfavoritesong @rosietenderness

Word count: 3.1k

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Thoughts on the latest update:

-Sometimes I forget that Shitty’s one of Bitty’s best friends, too. (I get so tied up in his fantastic, usually-naked, friendship with Jack.) Add this to Ransom and Holster’s careful offers of help and Lardo’s worried looks: Bitty’s got a built-in support system, ready to help him through all these rough patches he’s been weathering alone.

-“I hate that I can’t be proud of you.” This though. We’re all used to the idea of having to hide our sadness on occasion, but it can be just as painful to hold back joy and pride and the desire to stand up on a chair and scream, “THAT NHL PRODIGY IS MY BOYFRIEND.” Bitty hasn’t…actually…been very good at restraining his excitement about Jack’s games and funny little stories about his teammates, but imagine what a bubbly mess of joy he’ll be when he can actually open up about it the way he wants to. I have a feeling he’s going to talk nonstop about Jack for several months. (Hopefully Chowder gets to be in on the secret, because Chowder is probably the one person who could talk more excitedly about how awesomely Jack’s doing. Or maybe Shitty, when he’s drunk and weepy.)

-Jack zeroing in on Bitty’s admission that being in this relationship makes him feel like he’s gone back in the closet. Jack absolutely refusing to let that stand, now that he knows how rough it’s been on Bitty.

-Jack immediately suggesting they tell their friends. Bitty’s reaction here makes me think that every other time the topic’s come up, Bitty went into bright, cheery, “everything’s just dandy” mode, and Jack took it at face value. Now that he knows Bitty’s not actually okay with keeping it a secret - that it’s actively hurting him, and he’s only doing it because he’s afraid of secrets leaking and hurting Jack’s career…

-Their entire argument is centered around the two of them arguing for each other. They’re fighting over who deserves to be happier and more comfortable, and then apologizing for getting upset about each others’ welfare.  

-That split-screen panel, though, with Jack yelling at Bitty about not prioritizing his career over his happiness, and Bitty sobbing that Jack cannot ruin his entire life for Bitty.

-That’s the moment where it probably fully clicks for Jack. Hockey is his career. Bitty is his life. 

-It’s another Graduation Bells moment: Jack was in love with Bitty for a good percentage of that year, but it took a final conversational push to make him realize, Oh. Oh that’s what I was feeling. And he’s probably been feeling this way about Bitty vs his career for a while now: he’s prioritized hockey over everything else in the past, even his own health, but the brightest part of his day now is coming home after a game, hearing Bitty’s voice, gently touching the affectionate, supportive notes Bitty writes for him, finally believing that someone cares about him, rather than about what he can do on the ice.

-Winning a game might feel good. But Bitty makes Jack happy, even on his worst days. Bitty is more important than anything else in Jack’s life.

-And 110% Jack fucking Zimmermann is going to make sure Bitty knows that.

-Can I just say how much I love that breaking up was never even on the table for a second. That entire conversation was - “this is really hard, but we’ll get through this; I’ll be stronger - you shouldn’t have to be; you told me to tell you when I needed you, and I just needed you this week; I needed you to know how I was feeling, because it hurts, but it hurts less when I’m with you.” There isn’t the slightest hint of considering ending things, because these boys love each other and are willing to do everything in their power to make it work.

-Jack isn’t a hockey prince anymore: he’s the king of big romantic gestures.

-Running across campus, out of breath and desperate to see Bitty, his graduation gown billowing behind him, wasn’t enough. Now he’s gotta walk through a storm to wrap Bitty up in his rain-soaked arms??

-This boy.

-“You fool” is my new favorite pet name, after “bud.”

-Jack’s worried face, his hair dripping, as Bitty flings himself angrily at him, crumpling his elegantly tailored suit and berating him for not thinking about the consequences of his actions. Why would you do this for me, when it could’ve hurt you?

-But Jack has thought about it. When he saw those missed calls, listened to the broken-voiced message he was supposed to delete, heard the tears Bitty was trying to choke back when they talked…he thought about what it’d mean to him, to Bitty, to their relationship, to keep hiding from everyone they know. He thought about what it was like before he knew Bitty, when he was quiet and harsh and anxious and dedicating all his energy into being the best possible hockey player. He thought about the warmth that filled his chest when he talked to Bitty, the light, bubbly feeling he got when he had Bitty in his arms.

-It wasn’t much of a choice, was it? Not when one option meant Bitty fighting back tears, turning into the terrified, anxiety-riddled person Jack has far too much experience being.

-“We’re a team.” 

-Honestly, this is probably the most romantic thing Jack could ever say. It means loyalty, dedication, hard work, passion. It means having someone’s back, and trusting them to have yours. It means putting in the extra time and effort. It means being your best for the other person, even on the days when it’s too hard, when everything seems to go wrong. It’s an even bigger declaration than Jack asking Bitty to be his boyfriend. And Bitty knows it.

-Bitty’s stubborn chin, the defiant tilt of his head, and Jack’s quiet, soft expression as he waits to see if Bitty really does feel the same way.

-Bitty collapsing into Jack’s arms, and the tension melting out of both of them as Bitty buries his face in Jack’s chest, Jack curving his body around his boyfriend, pressing his face into Bitty’s hair, grateful to be holding him, to know that they’re going to be okay. Still hurting because he’d hurt Bitty without knowing it, but relieved that they’re going to fix it, now that they’re together.

-Jack smiling blissfully and chirping a tired, still emotional, but deeply affectionate Bitty as they head up the stairs. It’s them. It’s the perfect example of their comfortable, best friends and boyfriends dynamic.

-Bitty slipping easily back into pet names and stripping Jack out of his wet clothes. Jack thanking him for taking care of him - for letting Jack take care of him, too.

-“Let me in?” Jack asks, waiting on the porch, his heart in his throat. As though the answer would ever be anything but yes.

Colour Pencil techniques

I use colour pencil a lot (p much exclusively) at this point for all my serious art stuff, so I thought I’d share some things that I have learnt technique-wise. If you have other tips or tricks, please reblog and add!

  • Layering is everything. Blend different colours by first colouring lightly with one colour and then colouring over it with another colour. Both darker on lighter and lighter on darker, different shades of the same colour for more vividity, white over colour to blend and flatten, colour over black for dirty, dark, blended colours, etc… Test patches are recommended. 

  • Do lighter areas first (so like if there is a white flower in a green bush, do the flower first) so you’ll avoid getting smudge on your pencil and fucking around with that.

  • To avoid that “everything is separate” feel that colour pencil drawings often have, colour over the edge. Like if you have a red area next to a black area, do the red, do the black, and then colour over the black with the red in the area where they touch, to make sure it doesn’t leave a white line peeking out from between the two (if working on white paper).(PS. if you want that “everything is separate” feel, that is fine too, I’ve seen things where that works very well)

  • Nowadays there are all sorts of cool sorts of pencils, like watercolour pencils and such. Those give a really awesome vibrant paint-like line if you lick the tip (oh glob I’m going to get so many porn blogs following me for saying that -_- ) of the pencil and draw with that. (Pls note that I do not recommend licking pencils as I don’t know if it would have any harmful health effects. Do at your own risk >_> ) Like Derwent’s Inktense colour pencils will basically result in ink-like uneraseable colour pencil lines if you lick them, it’s v cool.

  • Colour pencils over dry pastel or chalk. If you treat the entire paper with white dry pastel or chalk and then draw on with colour pencils, the result is more vibrant colours. Or you can lay down flats with dry pastels and then go over them with the same colour pencils for really smooth, vibrant colours.

  • I’m not getting paid for recommendations, but holy fuck Prismacolor Premier pencils?!?! :O They will colour over other colours (even the light ones like white and yellow!) no matter how many layers of colour you’ve got on already! Honestly they feel and work like the holy lovechild of colour pencils and crayons. Such good vibrant colour, and like a blessing upon layering and blending, and they even bring the possibility of fixing mistakes a little with the white one.

  • As the last step, blend skintones with grey. Especially for white people skin: the shadows on white people skin are grey, not brown (and now you know everything I learnt in art school). So investing in several light shades of grey pencils is worth it if you draw people a lot. Even in just blending colours on not-skin gets interesting results when you go over the whole thing with grey, it sort of takes off some of the edge from colours. And if you go over the whole drawing with the same grey pencil it’ll bring the whole thing together. I have like four different greys from Faber-Castell’s Polychromos line.

  • Gold metallic pencil rarely looks like gold. Use copper instead, or blend gold and copper, or help the gold along with some regular yellow or white or light yellow or off-white etc…

Another fic I will never write is about Dinesh and Gilfoyle both being trans men and navigating their relationship/their transness together. They both have a difficult time dealing with society’s expectations of what a man is, and their feelings about “passing” vs being their authentic selves. Includes:

-Dinesh hating binding so he wears oversized shirts and a sports bra instead
-Gilfoyle feeling guilty about enjoying binding, he doesn’t want to admit he relies on an outside source to feel manly
-Both of them having a difficult time figuring out if they want top surgery, dinesh because his chest is small enough that he’s not sure if surgery is worth it, and Gilfoyle because he wants so badly to overcome his chest dysphoria himself without surgical intervention
-Dinesh having a lower voice than he used to because of testosterone but his neutral speaking voice is still kind of high pitched. He can force himself to speak in a lower voice but he doesn’t want to, he just wants to talk the way he does naturally
-Gilfoyle loving his long hair but he feels like he needs to grow out his beard in order to “counteract” it. Sometimes he thinks about shaving his beard, especially when he feels Dinesh’s clean shaven face, but he can’t bring himself to do it
-Dinesh not wanting bottom surgery because the idea freaks him out, Gilfoyle saying he doesn’t want it because it will never be close to the real thing but one of the reasons he wants to become a tech giant is because he wants to afford whatever new experimental surgery might become available, so it’s an option for him should he decide he wants it
-generally Gilfoyle wanting to reject cissexist ideas of what it means to be a man but mostly conforming to them anyway because that’s what makes him feel comfortable, and being jealous of Dinesh for having less dysphoria and less hangups about being non traditionally masculine
-generally Dinesh not conforming to traditional masculinity and not wanting to stretch himself into a masculine caricature, and feeling like Gilfoyle is more of a man than he is because his dysphoria is worse and he’s more concerned than Dinesh is with being a conventional “manly man”
-both of them wondering, “do I want to do [masculine thing] just because I’m trying to pass, or do I really truly want it for myself?”
-basically it would be a bittersweet look at Dinesh and Gilfoyle trying to become/be themselves, and feeling close to each other because they share a lot of the same experiences but going through patches where they aren’t on the same page at all because they don’t understand the other guys thought process/feelings about his masculinity

it should be no surprise

@caseyvalhalla CONGRATS ON DEFENDING YOUR THESIS, I AM SO PROUD OF YOU!!!  You deserve a reward, so here is some Sheith hurt/comfort as you requested (and I needed an excuse to write, lmao).  Please enjoy my first foray into Voltron fic.  :D

As always, cross-posted to AO3 (link on sidebar of my blog).

it should be no surprise

It was quiet on the ride back to the castle, a stark contrast to when they’d left.

Shiro stood near the back of the cockpit, arms crossed, a careful distance between Keith and himself. He wanted to hover, to check Keith’s hurts, but Keith had shaken him off as soon as he’d slumped into Red’s seat. Shiro understood the need for space, probably more than anyone in their little family, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Didn’t make it feel any less fragile.

Shiro supposed, in truth, that he needed the space a little bit, as well. Perhaps he hadn’t had an earth-shattering realization about his heritage, or a “knowledge or death” trial to discover said heritage, but there was still plenty for him to process, what with watching Keith throw himself single-mindedly against a barrage of cryptic Galran resistance fighters, and then—.

It wasn’t exactly a revelation that Shiro was the person Keith most wanted to see, when Kolivan explained it. Keith was naturally introverted, Shiro knew, keeping mostly to himself when he could, and his tight-lipped silence whenever families were mentioned spoke volumes on its own. He and Shiro had been close even before the Kerberos mission, and everything that had happened since Shiro’s return had drawn them even closer.

So that wasn’t a surprise, really.

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So with the growing possibility of MysteryMan not being Gaster, I started to wonder about the “don’t forget” note, too. My top contender was the drawing being of Sans, Papyrus, and Gaster all together, but what if Gaster doesn’t have a permanent smile? I mean, even Papyrus doesn’t, really. He frowns all the time.

So I kept thinking about it and thinking about it especially in context with what else was added in the patch, and then I had a thought. What if the drawing wasn’t of Sans’ family…

…But of these guys?

I mean, think about it - the patch is the first time that Gaster’s followers can appear without manipulating the code - they can just show up. They each have a permanent smile. And, they each disappear after you interact with them.

Just imagine - Sans walking through the underground, finding monsters that he’d never seen before. He doesn’t think much of it, until they talk about Gaster. They disappear before he can question them further. The next reset, they don’t appear at all.

So he quickly scribbles what they look like from memory, and adds a note for good measure. Don’t forget - these monsters remember Gaster.

Just a thought.

- ̗̀31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN ̖́-

DAY THREE: HALLOWEEN BUCKETLIST

this one is more-so an autumn bucket list but since this is a halloween project .. y’knOW. I thought it would be cute to set like, a 31 day little goal to do at least one of these each day and by the end, the bucket list will be COMPLETE. you can find the bucket list under the cut. if you’d like to add stuff to this, by all means go for it ! You can find my other 31 days of halloween creations in this tag!

there’s a total of 17 things to do

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Not All Heroes Wear Capes

Can i request a dean x reader fic where the reader isn’t a hunter and gets attacked by a demon or something and dean finds her and patches her up. Then hunts down the demon that attacked her?

Characters: Dean, Sam, reader

Word count: 1749

Warnings: swearing, blood

It began as a normal day for you. You got up early, had a shower, drove to work, came home from work and cooked dinner. Normal day. That was until someone knocked at your door, ‘I’m not expecting anyone’ you thought to yourself. You answered the door and saw a tall man standing in front of you, he was injured. He was around 6ft tall, blonde hair and brown eyes. “Please help me,” he groaned.

“Oh my god!” You shrieked, “what happened to you are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine, I just need to call someone”

“Of course come in!” You moved out the way of the door, “you can use my phone”. You walked to your purse in the kitchen to grab your cell phone to give to the man. He walked in after you and as you turned around he stood normally and smiled as if he wasn’t injured anymore, and suddenly his eyes flashed black. “What the-” you tried to talk but before you knew it he flicked his wrist and you were halfway across the kitchen, hitting your head on the cupboard. You fell to the floor and quickly stood up, dabbing your finger on your forehead and noticing you were bleeding. He now charged towards you and you tried to fight back, not having any time to wonder what the hell just happened. Why are his eyes fully black? How did he make you fly across the room without touching you?

He tackled you to the floor and punched you causing your bottom lip to plump instantly, your mouth tasting of blood. You somehow managed to lift your foot out from under his weight and kick him in the face, causing him to fall. You stood up to run away but he grabbed your leg and you fell to the floor, your hands stinging as they slapped on the floor. He stood again and grabbed you by the waist. You tried kicking your way out but you couldn’t because he was too strong. He grabbed your head and pulled you closer to the hob on the cooker. “No please” you screamed as you closed your eyes. He was trying to burn your face against the pan on the top of the oven. You screamed loudly hoping someone would hear you. You could feel the heat of the pan burning closer and closer towards your face. Luckily whoever he was wasn’t able to get your face to touch the pan. You felt the pressure of his hands against you stop and you heard him break your back door down and run away.

You opened your eyes and saw two men standing in the middle of your kitchen. “Son of a bitch” the shorter one shouted. You instantly thought they were going attack you too. You grabbed a knife from the kitchen counter, “stay the hell back” you screamed, “I’m calling the police”. You tried hard to hold back your tears.

“Woah hey calm down ok? We’re not gonna hurt you! We’re after the guy who just attacked you” the taller one said, “my names Sam and this is my brother Dean.” You weren’t sure why, but you trusted them. You slowly put the knife back in the counter behind you. “What’s your name?”

“My name.. Y/N.“ You sighed rubbing your eyes, feeling a little dizzy from what just happened. “You wanna tell me what the fuck that was?”

They both looked at each other, a knowing look. The kind of look that said ‘were gonna have to tell her aren’t we’. “Well?” You shouted impatiently.

“It was a demon” Dean said. “and yes ok, demons are real. Demons and ghosts and all the crap in between,” He sighed like this was a normal thing for him to talk about.

“A what? A demon?” You were extremely confused. “No, monsters aren’t real”.

“Yes they are” Sam stated quickly. “Did you notice his eyes?”

“They were black,” you folded your arms.

“Exactly, demons have black eyes” Dean explained. “Did he use some kind of power to hurt you without actually touching you?”

Thinking back, everything that man did was strange. But a demon? Really? “What so demons have magical powers?” You said sarcastically.

Dean giggled, “I suppose you can put it that way…”

“I know it’s pretty hard to believe” Sam butted in.

“You know what? I hit my head pretty hard and I had vodka in my coffee mug this morning I’m gonna believe whatever you tell me” you sighed raising your hands defensively. “What’s next unicorns are real too?”

They both looked at each other, the knowing look again. You sighed, “of course they are”.

“You’re bleeding,” Dean said as he pointed to the top of your head.

“Oh yeah uh- that… Demon… It threw me across the kitchen and into a cupboard door,” you said wiping the blood away and wincing a little at the pain. “A demon threw me across my kitchen.. Well I can add that to the list of things I never thought I’d say” you sighed. “I’m gonna need a beer” you said walking to your fridge.

After Dean and Sam going into a little more detail and explaining everything to you, Dean offered to patch up your wounds. Sam went to clean up the kitchen, put things away and clean the blood off of the floor and the cupboards.

“This is gonna hurt quite a bit” Dean said as he threaded the dental floss through the needle. You sat in your living room on the couch.

“You don’t have to stay here and do this” you winced as he cleaned the blood up with whisky, then passing you the bottle. You drunk the whiskey as he got prepared to start sewing up the deep wound on your forehead.

“I want to” he smiled before pushing the needle through the ripped skin.

“Fuck” you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Sorry Y/N", he continued to sew a little softer.

“So you and your brother-” you started a conversation to take your mind off the pain “-you just drive around the country killing every monster you can find?”

He laughed at your description, “pretty much”.

“You’re both heroes you know that?” you smiled.

“I wouldn’t say that”

“Oh come on, not all heroes wear capes” you laughed, “some wear leather jackets and drink beer,” you said as he took a swig of his beer almost on cue. He looked down at his beer bottle and laughed as he placed in back on the table in your living room.

“Killing monsters isn’t all saving people, sometimes you’re too late” he sighed.

“You saved me” you smiled sadly.

“Yeah and I’m gonna keep you safe, first thing Im gonna do when I leave here is go after that son of a bitch, I promise", he finished up sewing the wound on your forehead.

“Oh my night in shining armour” you said half joking, half serious.

He laughed and placed the needle away, getting out a giant hello kitty plaster and sticking it over your wound. You both laughed.

“Nothing says crazy ass demon attack quite like a hello kitty plaster,” you said tucking your hair behind your ear. Dean now noticed your lip was swollen from where the demon had hit you.

“Oh uh- your lip is split,” he said seriously. You sighed and lifted your hand to wipe the blood away. Dean stopped you and said ,“allow me”. He rested his fingers against your cheek and wiped the blood away from your lip with his thumb. Once he wiped the blood away he cupped your cheek with his whole hand. You smiled and leant into his touch. He smiled back and slowly moved his hand off of your face.

“So that demon-” you started but Dean replied before you could finish your question.

“Don’t worry Y/N, me and Sammy are gonna kill it. You will be safe, I promise”.

Sam returned from the kitchen and you thanked him for cleaning up the mess. Sam walked out of the house first, Dean following behind him. Before Dean walked out, you grabbed his hand and he turned back to you. Sam hadn’t noticed and he continued to walk back to his car.

“Will I ever see you again?” You didn’t want to sound desperate but you would have loved to see Dean again.

“No Y/N… I don’t think so,” he sighed and you awkwardly moved your hand away. “Not that I don’t want to!” He quickly defended, “believe me, I would love to see you again,” he smiled grabbing your hand again.

“Then what’s the problem?” You squeezed his hand, not wanting to let him go.

“It’s just, this life. You can’t afford attachments”

“I’m not asking you to marry me” you giggled. He smiled and looked down at the floor. “Okay just promise me something.” He now looked back up at you. “Next time you’re in town, or next time you wanna see me, just swing by. No attachments, no phone numbers being exchanged just, just come back at some point.” Your hands were still together.

“You really wanna see me again huh?” He bit his lip. “Well what can I say, chicks dig me,” he laughed.

You pulled your hand out of his and used both your hands to grip onto his jacket and pull him closer to you. You instantly crashed your lips into his, not giving him a chance to pull away. He moved your mouth with yours, first gentle and soft, then pushing a little bit harder. You pulled away and watched him as his eyes were still closed with shock.

He opened his eyes and saw you smiling. “What was that?” He smirked.

“Just making sure you come back. Because if you don’t, now you know what you’ll be missing.” You put your hand on the back of his head and pecked him on the lips. “Bye Dean” you smiled as you slid your hand out of his hair.

“Bye Y/N…” He smiled, running his thumb across your cheek before walking out of your house.

You’d never met a guy like Dean. You’d never felt a connection like that with someone. You hoped the kiss was enough, maybe you would see Dean again. But right now, you were happy with what just happened. You just kissed Dean, it may not have been a normal day, but it was one of the best days you’d had in a really long time