something is truly wrong with me


I have been made aware that not all of my followers know the significance of March 22nd. It’s the day that My Chemical Romance broke up, four years ago. It was done for their own mental health, so as much as I wish they were still together, I truly am happy they’re not. They needed to do something to help themselves for once. Their mental health was fading very quickly, and the only way to take of themselves the way they needed to, was to break up. They’re all happier and healthier now. Today is just a day for me and so many others to remember something we love. Yeah, we get overdramatic and overemotional and pretty sappy, but doesn’t everyone sometimes. There’s nothing wrong with getting upset of something that means a lot to you. For all of you who don’t follow me for band stuff, I’ll be back to your regularly scheduled programming tomorrow.

anonymous asked:

Hi Tess! I would really appreciate your advice on something, so basically I'm really passionate about veganism and I truly want to spread the message and inspire people but I'm 17 years old and I live with my parents who make me eat an egg or salmon for one meal every 1-2 weeks! I'm 18 in 7 months and then I can go 100% vegan but Is it hypocritical and wrong for me to start a YouTube channel promoting veganism?!? I'm really stuck between a rock and a hard place😥 please HELP!!!

Get on youtube and promote it, maybe talk about your experience dealing with your parents as well? veganism is consuming 100% plant based diet so yes it is a bit conflicting but I think it’s still great to promote a plant based diet and film the lead up to you going vegan :)

I personally think what’s best is to stand up for yourself and not be force fed things you don’t want to eat.


“Everything is ‘terrible?’ Don’t make me laugh. So what about me…for me, it’s been terrible since I was born.”


I just wanted to say something about this.

Honestly, I saw it too. I saw in him that he was settling for what he already had, and that for me was kinda sad to see. Don’t get me wrong, I have always had faith in him, but I admit that I did see him begin to lose sight and it became harder for me to find reasoning for it when people asked. I used to get messages asking me if he’s ok, if he is truly happy, what if he lost his spark, what if he’s losing sight, etc.

But in this past week alone, it’s completely turned around. I get messages from people that pride themselves in being a part of this community, I get messages from people like “what has he done now?!” when he does something weird, compliments to Mark himself for the way he’s been lately.

This right here, is a new era for Mark, the channel and this community and I am more excited than ever to see what’s to come.

Welcome back, Mark!

Peter Pan Imagine/Do you love me?

Warnings: Smut, cursing, mentally abusive,cruel Pan, 

You never truly understood him, why he was so mean, so cruel, so heartless, for you only knew that you loved him, and your poor loving self thought you could change that, you were wrong.

From the day you met him, you knew you wanted to be with him, something about his mysterious ways drove you crazy. 

“Who are you?” he asked

“I’m Y/n.” you say with a smile

“Throw her in the lagoon, she’ll die faster!” he yells

“WAIT!” you yell a little alarmed

“Please, let me stay, I want to help.”

“What could you possibly have to offer me?”

You loo at him dead in the eyes,  “Me.”

The next thing you know Peter has you naked in his bedroom

He kisses up and down your neck and you are almost screaming his name,

As he is about to enter you stop him

“This is.. my first time.” you look every other way except in his direction

Peter is automatically irritated, he rolls his eyes, but makes sure you aren’t watching hi, he just wanted to fuck you already. He bends his down in the crook of your neck and starts to whisper “I’ll take go slow okay?”

You think he is the sweetest thing in the world, and of course you didn’t see the eye rolls.

He enters you and you start to feel the pain and start to complain to Peter, at this point he puts his finger in your mouth,

“Bite on this.” he says a little dry , you ignored that.

Next thing you know he starts going in hard and you could barely take it.

“Peter I’m a virgin!” you yell

But he completely ignores that and keeps going

“Peter please go slower”

As if he couldn’t be more of an ass he goes quicker

You’re digging your nails and hiding you face in the pillow you saw next to you begging him to stop, it felt good, but for your first time, it was a bit much.

As he stopped you realized he came and with that you took the pillow from behind your face and blushed as you looked at him.

His hair was a crazy mess, he was sweating, and had a satisfying look on his face, almost a “mission accomplished” look

He then came to your ear and nibbled on it a bit, you giggle as he does so

“You did such a good job baby girl, your king is so proud of you.” as he whispered in your ear, your heart melted, ever since then, this was your nightly routine. You loved making Peter proud of you, he would praise you, he would get you gifts, let you eat the first meal, showering alone, being his lost girl had some perks.

Almost every night Peter would fuck the brains out of you and he would love doing it.

“Do you really like the girl? Or are you just playing with her emotions?” Felix asked Peter

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Peter would say bluntly

“Oh Peter” you would scream his name so loud all of Neverland would hear, and he loved it, you barely could talk the next day because your throat would be red raw from screaming.

One day one of the lost boys got sick and you caught one of the colds they had.

“Not tonight Peter.” you simply say

“Excuse me?” he says

“I got sick and just want to rest.”

“Love please” he would kiss your neck softly, try to get you in the mood.

“Peter, you know I can’t say no to you” you say ans gab his face and kiss his lips.

He quickly takes off his clothes and yours and starts to stroke into you very roughly.

“Oh fuck Peter.”

He grabs the slides of your hips and starts to go very rough, he would always switch positions, doggy stile so that he could pull your hair, he would make you go on top of him, but eventually he would just take over and get on top, he loved being in charge, and if he felt that he wasn’t, he would make it be known by fucking you even harder. 

“Who’s lost girl are you ?” he would ask as he was about to cum

“Your’s Peter!” 

“That’s right.”

After he came he would always leave, he always had to do something.

“Baby please stay.” you begged

“Why would I do that?” he almost laughed

“Usually after people have sex they, I don’t know talk, cuddle, sleep.”

“Don’t be silly love, nobody does that.” he says as he walks out of the room.

Leaving you there, twisting your hair and letting tears come down your face.

You were starting to feel incomplete.

3 Weeks after

After an other night of well,, Peter getting what he wanted , you asked him something.

“Peter.” you lay on the bed still naked

“Not now Y/n I’m very busy.” he says as he puts on his pants

“Do you love me?” you ask almost regretting the question as soon as it came out of your mouth.

Peter looked at you almost in a confused way, and walked outside the door.

With that your heart shattered. You decided that enough was enough and ran after him, putting only a night gown on.

“Pan wait!” you say

He turns around, “Pan?” you were only allowed to call him Peter.

“I am sick of this, I just want to know if you love me or not.” 

“Y/n go back to bed.” he says as he began to talk to Felix

You step in the middle of both of them

“The hell are you doing?” he asked

“I will not move until you answer my question.” you say

“Fine, then we’ll move.” he says and him and Felix leave you, you stay there al night trying to prove a point, breakfast time and you have not moved, you were also sick as a dog, for it was cold that night.

“Come to bed.” you hear his voice and you turn around.

“Why?” you say sniffling your nose.

“Just come.” he says, you follow.

You get to his room and the fire is on, a long with a bunch of blankets and pillows.

“Oh Peter it’s Perfect! But it’s already breakfast time”

“We can skip it.” he kisses down your neck 

“But Peter I actually need it, I’m sick I need nutrition in my body.” you seriously.

“What you need, is me, I can make you feel all better.” he says.

“Peter stop.” you push him away 

“I’m sick, I’m going to get breakfast.” you say firmly

“What’s the point of having a lost girl then?” he mumbles under his breath but clearly wanting you to hear it

“Excuse me?” you began to heat up

“If you’re not going to give me what I want you’re better off sleeping in the tents outside with the rest of the lost boys.” he says as he crosses his arms

“So just because I don’t let you get it in I’m just an other lost boy then huh?” you almost scream

“You might as well be. That’s what I wanted you hear for.” he says bluntly

Your eyes began to tear up. “You’re an asshole.” you run outside and that was the last time you saw Peter.

About 3 months later you got settled in a town called StoryBrooke, you loved it, and you loved your brother Henry, he was your best friend, even though he was younger than you, you told each other everything.

Well the peace didn’t last log because Henry was take, and you were devastated.

As you all meet up in Ruby’s diner you all find ways to know where Henry could be you began to eat Henry’s favorite desert, apple pie.

You ate while the grown ups figured out where he was, they usually could figure out was faster before you since they were the ones with the magic powers.

“Bloody hell, I know where this kid is.” Hook said

You popped your head up a little curious and playing with your food just in case you weren’t supposed to be hearing.

“Where?!” Regina and Emma yelled at the same time.

“Neverland.” he says

Your fork dropped on the floor and so did your heart, you haven’t seen Peter since you yelled a him, since he sad all those terrible things.

You were terrified, but you had to get your best friend and brother back, and Peter was not going to stop you.

Part 2?

What Matters Most

I decided to compile a little list of things that matter most to me as a little. I figured maybe it could help people who are new to the community or people who have forgotten what matters most. 

I. Bedtimes. I am too stubborn to go to sleep when I actually should, and usually wind up sleep-deprived because of it.

II. Rules. Rules give me structure and something to hold onto. I no longer crave as strict of a hand as I used to, but rules are very nice to have.

III. Praise. I constantly take blame for things I know TRULY aren’t my fault. I forget my worth a lot and tend to apologize too much.

IV. Communication. Talk to me, don’t neglect me. Tell me what I’m doing wrong and how I can fix it. Reassure me that I’m not too much

V. Time. Make time for me. Talk to me. Never forget “good morning” and “good night.”



He does meet her in person one day.

It’s been decades, not that their faces show it. But there’s contentment in her eyes, a sense of purpose, the light that he admired for the first time all those years ago still there, still shining. Once he’d thought that it would dull with time, sharpen into something vicious if she truly embraced her inner monster.

Klaus finds he’s actually quite pleased to be proven wrong.

Not that she is still the same girl though, the girl who would let others take and take and take from her until she had no more tears to give them. No, this Caroline standing on his doorstep has a spine of steel and will not bend for anyone so unworthy.

“Are you going to stare at me or invite me in?”

Klaus smirks (the same arrogant smirk), she smiles (that same radiant smile), and he steps back to allow her through. The compound is quiet that night, his family left to their own pursuits, some very far away indeed. He’s absurdly grateful for that at the moment.

“What brings you to New Orleans, love?” he asks casually, too casually for the way his mind races with possibilities. But he’s never been one to lose his upper hand, though she might be the rare exception.

“I received the cheque you sent last month.”

“I’ve donated generously to your school for years Caroline, I don’t recall this being the standard thank-you protocol.” Anyone else and it might be a rebuke but there’s a twinkle in his eye and he’s all mirth. He’d never sent the money as a bribe to bring her here, even if he had allowed himself to hope that this might one day happen.

Looks like one day had arrived.

Caroline matches his casualness, admiring the art on the walls, looking over the decorating with a critical eye, though she’s unable to fully hide her admiration. “You’re our biggest benefactor. Thought it was time to say thank you in person.”

Klaus raises an eyebrow and strolls closer, clasping his hands behind his back because it’s all he can do not to reach for her waist and pull her close, see if the taste of her matches his memory. Instead he stops a hair’s breadth away from her back, letting his breath wash over the shell of her ear. “If I remember correctly sweetheart, I was the one who promised to thank you.

Caroline turns, and for the first time one of them breaks. Her breath stutters from how close he is and in a moment she’s seventeen again and they’re standing on a field before he says goodbye.

But that was then and this is now, and Caroline does not intend to say goodbye to him tonight.

There’s no point in playing with pretense, they’ve had decades of coy flirtations through handwritten notes, the barest of communications still managing to covey a wealth of possibilities for a future that would only come if one of them took the first step. Klaus had promised her that she would be the one on his doorstep and it’s nearly been a century since that dance…Caroline finds she’s actually quite willing to compromise her pride, just a little, if it means they can finally see if long-ago promises are capable of becoming something real.

“I had to come here,” Caroline explains, and she lets the neutral façade slip and forces herself to look him in the eye with the bravery he’s always admired in her. “You kept your promise to never come back.”

“I regretted making that promise several times.”

“But I’m glad you did. Things happened…maybe they had to happen the way they did.”

Klaus very much disagrees, but she’s here now and that’s what matters in the end. But now they were inches apart and the possibility of a beautiful future is right there in front of them – only neither knows what to do with it.

“What now?”

Caroline smiles and raises herself just a bit, enough to brush her lips against his. She does taste the same, and then some, sweeter and richer and nothing his memory could possibly do justice. She doesn’t press further though, and it’s not a kiss, not really. It’s a promise. A possibility.

“Champagne,” she whispers against him, so softly he barely catches it. “It’s our thing.”

Klaus pulls away, staring into those eyes he’s painted a hundred times over. “And then?”

“And then…Rome. I need a vacation.”


“My French is perfect.”


She laughs, and Klaus swears this is the heaven he never thought a bastard would find.

“Pour that drink first. We’ve got time.”

I was putting my selfish desires and sins above what God had planned and desired for me. I was blinded and it showed that I wasn’t taking my walk in Christ seriously. I had God on the side and only ran to him when needed. I literally looked for every reason possible to do it and not feel guilty. I pushed him away as far as possible. To feel good about that sin and fulfill what desire I needed too in that moment. When in all actuality He was always what I truly needed all this time.

Sin will always lead you to something less than what God has for you. Sin leads you straight to hell. Repenting takes us off that path to hell. Please remember though that repenting means there should be change. Not us running right back to that very sin every time we feel the desire resulting in us repenting to make it okay to do it again.

What made me stop was I just thought about Jesus being beaten, mocked, spat on, hanging on the cross for me and my sins. Thinking to myself those sins that I am doing is it truly worth it? Is it worth the death of my savior who did no wrong, never sinned, didn’t deserve to die but still did? Those sins that are giving me temporary pleasures and is taking me to hell. Is it worth it? No it is not worth it. So I stopped. I died to myself that day and every day after that.

That’s what we have to do as believers of Christ. Everyday we are called to pick up our cross, die to ourselves and follow after Jesus.

  • them: so what do you think makes a successful romantic story?
  • me: so, for example, just an example, imagine that there's a character who has a great deal of difficulty talking about their feelings because they think there's something wrong with them. this person has difficultly forming/keeping romantic relationships because of this. now imagine that this person meets someone who - by their very nature - is good at reading people (for example, a private detective). this person might be the *only* person the original character could form a long-term romantic relationship with becuase they would be the only person capable of truly knowing them. are you with me so far?
  • them: you're talking about john watson and sherlock holmes aren't you

Let’s try my rusty skills at these space gays, aka Klance. Just some fluff.

He really wasn’t as boastful in private. In fact, Lance didn’t speak about himself at all. It was always about his family. The many cousins he had from all over. How they would take vacations to different places. Veradera beach was their favorite place to meet up. At least once a year, their big family chased off the rest of the beach goers with how loud they always were. Lance talked about his mom the most, how her cooking always made his stomach growl. How much he missed her hugs. 

Keep reading

I have something to say to you, my dear followers...

Today, I’ve learned about something and it made me ashamed… Truly ashamed. 

I’ve been told someone had repost one of my comic page without credits on their blog. This is something I find very sad, but this is not why I’m ashamed. 

I’m ashamed because, on my behalf/without telling me first or for some reason I can’t even explain, some people have sent death threat to that person for the only reason my art wasn’t credited. And I feel very bad about it. VERY BAD. 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying it’s ok to repost art without crediting or asking the artist. I, myself, don’t like when people repost my art for reason I’ll detail later. But I can’t agree with that and let people harassing other because they think they are some kind of justice warriors or I don’t know… We are all humans behind our laptops and computers and words can hurt a lot, you never know what the person you’re harassing is going through at the moment IRL or not and it can make so much damage on them… I just can’t accept that!!!!

There is nothing in this behavior that is related to the way I see modern witchcraft or the way I want to make you feel by drawing this comic… This is against everything I believe in. 

Come on, be human for a second. 

I’m feeling really bad about this… Really… Even if it’s bad to repost art without credits or approbation of the artist, this action doesn’t deserve death threats, like… seriously guys! WTH? I don’t like reposts and art theft AT ALL, but there is no way you can say something like that to someone because they did it! 

I support artists who’s art is being stolen a lot or reposted all the time without credits on a lot of website or social media. It’s happening to a lot of my friends and it’s always sad. 

I post my art directly on Tumblr so it can be reblogged from my blog Modern Witches Daily, with the proper credits and source. I feel uncomfortable with reposts on Tumblr because I created my blog to share my art with everyone not for other people to share it for me. And most of the time, nobody asks me before doing it. Even if the intention is good, it kinda hurts, especially when you see a repost with more notes than your original post and where you’re not credited. You can all understand that, I think. I put a lot of energy into that comic and notes are like… a reward, yes, kind of, it’s like… something telling me that people love my work and, as an artist (who is sometime going through phases of I-don’t-like-my-art-anymore), it’s very important! But how can I know it if other people share it instead of me and without credits? 

But still, it’s doesn’t justify in ANY case that someone receive death threats in their ask box because they didn’t credited me. Ear me well, here and now, I don’t want you to defend me/my art by harassing other people on Tumblr or anywhere else, not on my watch! If you see a repost or anything, send me a PM on Tumblr and I’ll handle this myself! Alright?

I never asked for that kind of “defense”, and it hurts me more than anything to see how rude people can be because they think they are doing this for me or for the art community… But I refuse to be related to this kind of violence! I find this terribly wrong, no matter what the problem is here, death threats are not the way and never will be! 

The day I’ll need your help will be when big companies or t-shirt printing websites will have their hand on my art without my agreement, and sell it. Then, I’ll need you to signal these actions, but I’ll never need you to send death threat to anyone, because this is very serious, terrible and shameful.

Thank you for reading this and I hope it won’t happen again! 

You’re supporting me a lot and I don’t want a group of my followers to hurt other people for this kind of stuff. Please, contact me first before being rude to any other human being if you see uncredited reposts! May this be a positive lesson for all parts of this story! 

Sorry for all those who aren’t concerned, I needed to be clear on that! 

I send you a lot of good and peaceful vibes,


Vicky from Modern Witches Daily ~ 

me before SHINee: why do I feel so little about everything, normal people aren’t this apathetic………there must be something wrong with me

me after SHINee: *in the span of 5 seconds*

MINHO JUST SMILED OMG my dARLING!!! Are you happy baby??? Are you truly happy & healthy?? Are you taking  proper care of yourself? Are you taking proper care of the others?

Are you making sure Jinki doesn’t get overshadowed or left out for ALWAYS giving others the spotlight?

Originally posted by littleshinee

Originally posted by mintokkies

or bullying Key all day only to give an offhand compliment about his activities to remind him that he’s absolutely amazing?

Originally posted by shineemoon

Originally posted by herewegobebe

Are you playing around with Jonghyun and showering him with random affectionate touches because he’s a tiny soft ball of fluff?

Originally posted by keyissoshinee

Originally posted by myfreakeydorkey

Still in denial about Taemin being a grown-ass adult but constantly brimming with pride that despite being incredibly good & successful at everything he does, he still remains a clumsy absentminded idiot?

Originally posted by ann-jong

Originally posted by fukumin99

Are you really happy sweetie, because it’s been 7 years since I first saw you and your smile has NEVER failed to make me happy

Originally posted by shinee-on-you

Originally posted by dearmyfairyboy

aigoo my heart was not ready for this onslaught of emotion *clutches chest* it cannot be normal for someone to feel THIS much. There must be something wrong with me…….

(( OOC: Cruel and derogatory anonymous messages are not acceptable for any reason, in any situation. You are allowed to have a differing opinion. You are allowed to disagree with other people’s reasonings. But it is not okay to tell someone that their reaction to something is wrong, or stupid. We are humans and we are allowed to have emotional responses.

If you truly feel offended enough by someones own words, you do not get to hide behind a grey face. You do not get to type out nonsensical abuse, hit send and then face no consequences. There are always consequences to any action you take, and just because you don’t see the hurt you cause does not mean it doesn’t happen. 

If you disagree with someone, and want to give your own opinion, make it a two-way conversation. Where you can discuss and validate your own opinions, and understand each other. Anonymous hate is not a discussion. It is cowardly, and incredibly selfish. Don’t do it. ))

lostwithoutmyanchor  asked:

The prompt I mentioned: Maybe Steter - meeting online in a supernatural forum/chat. maybe AU meeting first time or somewhere in canon and them not realising who the other is.

Thank you @ssree for proofing and for listening to me whine about this one for this long. Because people, this one was a nightmare and I’m never ever doing something like this again T.T

Right, wrong and everything in between.

Peter supposes that as a baby, there must have been some moments when it happened, but as far as his memories go, he can’t actually remember a time in his life when he was truly happy. He came too late, too unexpected, too different, and his parents, who were thinking about retirement in a couple of years or three at the most and an easy life where their toughest choice would be whether they wanted whipped cream with their pancakes or not, never were able to forget that he was the reason they couldn’t do that. Which Peter resents quite a bit, mind you, because it’s not like they didn’t do it anyway, pawing him off to Talia again and again.

And Peter guesses that he wouldn’t have minded if Talia had cared for him beyond an abstract sense of responsibility towards her family, if she hadn’t been barely a teenager (and later an adult, when Peter would finally stop trying) that didn’t want to be saddled with a baby brother when she had other more important things to worry about like school, her boyfriend, her cheerleader competitions, college, her marriage, alphahood, her pregnancy.

(But never Peter).

And so, what Peter remembers about his childhood is the burn of disappointmentpainanger when he’d try his best to be the ideal son (perfect grades, medals at competitions, always helpful, tidy, calm), and it only seemed to earn him the opposite effect when they left him even more alone. Needless to say, he stopped being a child pretty early and by the time Laura came along and he suddenly was expected to help take care of her because she was a precious baby that needed to be loved (what’s wrong with you Peter?), he had developed a hide thick enough to not rage inside about the double standards.

Except they’re paying attention to him now and Peter feels about to burst out of his own skin.

They’ve made him what he is. He’s a neat freak, an obsessive perfectionist, a cynic, a sarcastic shit. He’s loyal but distant, he’s dependable but vicious, he’s smart but devious. Everything he is is a direct result of their actions but they keep asking what’s wrong with you Peter?

It was their choice to make him the enforcer too (theirs, always theirs) and at the time Peter stupidly thought that maybe he had found his place finally, that such a position in the pack would earn him recognition (instead of the love he used to want, but that’s fine, because he stopped wanting it a long time ago) and respect. Or shouldn’t they be grateful that Peter keeps the pack safe at the very least?

(Apparently, even after all these years teaching him better, Peter still hasn’t learned. Shame on him.)

He comes back breathless and shaking from exhaustion after taking on a witch that wouldn’t heed Talia’s warnings about leaving their territory and they look at him and ask what’s wrong with you Peter? An omega tries to trespass and Derek is on his way, so Peter does what he must, leaving the kid covered in blood by accident but otherwise unharmed, and they ask what’s wrong with you Peter? And it can’t be said that Peter doesn’t learn from his mistakes, because he steps back and dials it down a notch, but they still ask what’s wrong with you Peter?

And so, he feels cornered because their eyes are on him at all times -and why the hell did he wish for their attention before? It’s unbearable!- and nothing he tries seems to be the correct answer. Because either he’s too vicious or too soft, either he’s too violent or too inefficient, but neither of those or anything in between is the right option and it’s driving him insane.

And Peter is a neat freak, an obsessive perfectionist and a cynic. He’s distant, vicious and devious! But he’s also loyal and dependable, and, above all, smart and knows himself enough to know that he’s almost at the breaking point and he might do something he will regret later, so he leaves.

(Because shortcomings apart, they’re still family, they’re still pack, they’re still his, for the better or the worse.)

Which is why he’s sitting on a swing at a park downtown, almost at the edge of town, contemplating his options. Because the reality of it is that if he leaves, he’ll become an omega unless he finds another pack that will take him in. In normal circumstances, Peter knows he would have been able to prove his worth, but with the pull Talia has, who would dare take him in and go against her? Peter’s lips pull into a snarl, because he himself is partly to blame for that. While Talia has gained a lot of respect for her ability to perform a full shift and her upfront way of dealing with the problems that come her way, Peter is the one she’s sent into the shadows to do the dirty work for her when her method failed, effectively cementing her image as a powerful alpha. So, essentially, Peter has made his own bed and now has to lie in it.

A hand comes into his direct line of vision and Peter startles, instantly on guard, because he never heard anyone approach, and he should have, no matter how distracted he was. He frowns suspiciously when it turns out that the hand belongs to a five (maybe six, he does look around Cora’s age) year old kid that’s handing him some gummy bears with a face devoid of any emotion. Whatever his age is, it’s way too late for a kid this small to be out at this hour of the night, Peter notices, but then he remembers his own childhood and keeps silent.

“What’s your name?” The little boy squeaks suddenly, hand still extended towards him. “Because dad says I can’t speak to strangers but if you tell me your name then you won’t be a stranger anymore and then I won’t be talking to a stranger and breaking the rules anymore.”

“Peter,” he answers blinking before he can think of it, too thrown off by the speed of the kid’s speech. “And I don’t really think it works that way, kid.”

“Hi, Peter, nice to meet you,” the kid continues unfazed, reaching to shake his hand and leaving the gummy bears behind when they unclasp hands.

The boy nods self-satisfied, as if having remembered to fulfill the social niceties is a success for him, and then he proceeds to hop onto the free swing beside Peter. It takes him three tries to actually achieve that but Peter manages to keep a straight face despite feeling his lips wanting to twitch. Then he tries to sway but he’s too short and his feet don’t reach the ground, and finally Peter snorts softly and reaches to give him enough momentum to be able to swing by himself as he sticks one of the gummy bears in his mouth.

“Thanks, sir,” the kid chirps.

The boy continues swinging silently for the next five minutes and Peter honestly doesn’t know why he doesn’t leave, because if someone finds him with an escaped kid in the middle of the night there’s going to be hell to pay. And an escapee he is, of that Peter has no doubt. More over, this is not the first time he’s done this either because he’s way too calm about being alone in the dark and too prepared, which tells Peter even more about him, because he remembers doing the same when he was a little older than this boy, and knows the difference between hiding and “hiding”. And the kid is hiding for sure. He’s not trying to manipulate his parents emotionally by disappearing on them, he really doesn’t want to be found and has come accordingly prepared to last all night. He has somewhat warm clothes, food, drinks and has chosen a secluded park where no one will think to look for him, but secure enough that if something happens he has a lot of places to hide and a 24h fast food joint just across the street where he can ask for help if he needs to.

(Smart kid.)

A normal person would call the police. Peter, who thinks more of whatever the kid may have left behind, who can see himself in him and knows that some kids aren’t really kids and can take care of themselves, doesn’t.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

They sit in silence for a bit and Peter tries to think about his own situation but his mind is blank. For the first time in his life he doesn’t know what to do and now that the anger that had pushed him before has burned out, he just feels numb. He rubs his forehead tiredly and sighs. The little boy, who had let the momentum die a while ago and now was just content swinging his own legs, as if he couldn’t keep still, reaches to place his backpack on his lap and then rummages inside until he seems to find what he’s looking for. He takes a batman tupper out and offers its contents to Peter after a little hesitation. Peter declines and the kid shrugs and starts eating himself. Then he blinks, stops and reaches to pass Peter the rest of his gummy bears. Peter’s lips twitch involuntarily and he takes the offered treat with a murmured thanks.

Much later, he hears a car coming down the road and looks in that direction, pondering if he should warn his little companion or not. Noticing his attention is elsewhere, the kid blinks at him quizzically.

“Car,” he murmurs finally making up his mind, and if he had any doubts about the boy’s situation, they get completely erased when he springs from the swing and hurriedly runs inside one of those domes with a lot of holes that Peter has never bothered to learn the name of. “Well,” he sighs and goes after him, because why the hell not at this point? It’s not like he wants to have to answer to any questions if it’s a patrol car, after all.

It’s a tight fit and the boy is looking at him very intensely now, as if he’s trying to understand why would an adult hide, because he probably thinks what every kid thinks, that adults don’t have to respond to anyone and can do whatever they want. But he seems like a very smart boy, so maybe he thinks Peter is a criminal? In any case, whatever he’s thinking, it’s obvious he makes up his mind about it quite quickly, though, because he looks inside his backpack again and passes a bag of chips to Peter before going back to his own food.

“Well,” Peter sighs again, because this is a new low for him. He was supposed to be on his way to a new life and instead he’s hiding with a five-maybe-six year old kid at a park in the middle of the night and eating said kid’s provisions too.

He opens the bag anyway.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

He looks at the boy’s tupper absently and ponders about it. Peter has never had one of those, his have always been generic. For his birthday he would get clothes or practical (impersonal) things, always hastily bought items when they finally remembered his birthday must have already passed because it was November already. This boy has a batman hoodie with batman pajamas and shocks underneath and a batman tupperware. The clothes look slightly small on him and the tupper is on the small side too. Maybe he’s reading too much into it, but he’d bet that things started to change at home when those still fit him.

Peter wonders which is worse, not having ever been loved by family or having known the feeling and then losing it.

His phone rings and he sighs. He considers not picking up, but then he admits to himself that if he really was going to leave, he would have already done so by now and wouldn’t be lingering around. He picks up.

After he hangs up, he closes his eyes and just concentrates on his breathing for a minute. When he opens them again, the kid is looking at him and there’s something like recognition in his eyes. Peter takes off his red hoodie to drap it over his little shoulders when he catches a shiver running through his small frame and then turns to leave without a backwards glance.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

He sighs and then sticks his head inside again. “Listen, kid,” he starts and then bites his lip. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Whatever is happening to you, it’s not your fault. They’re the adults that should be taking care of you and there’s nothing more you have to do but be the way you are, ok?” The boy is not breathing, Peter can tell. His eyes are almost impossibly wide and his hands are clenched around the tupper. “There’s nothing wrong with you, ok?


“No,” Peter cuts him implacably. Because the kid could be a devil for all he knows, but if at five-maybe-six he’s so skilled at hiding, at escaping his own home, and police aren’t swarming the streets after the almost two hours they’ve been here, whatever is wrong is not his fault. “There’s nothing wrong with you.

There’s a pause and the boy finally unclenches his hands. He swallows forcibly and for a second his eyes don’t leave Peter’s.

“There’s… nothing wrong with me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Exactly,” Peter nods as he turns to leave. “Take care, kid, and don’t forget that.”

“Peter?” He looks back towards the boy and finds himself caught by eyes that know more than they should. “There’s nothing wrong with you either, right?”

“I-yes,” he stutters caught off guard before taking a deep breath and regaining his footing. “There’s nothing wrong with me either, kid.”

“Ok,” the boy nods and Peter suddenly remembers how to breathe. “Goodbye, Peter.”

And so Peter leaves and goes to search for Cora, who isn’t in her bed and no one has seen her since the movie night ended half an hour ago. He finds her “hiding”, apparently sulking (and not just a little frightened about being alone in the middle of the night despite her thunderous scowl) because she’s grounded for pushing one of her classmates to get a toy she wanted, grabs her by the ear and takes her home.

Things don’t get any better on the family front after that, but Peter doesn’t care anymore. He’s still a neat freak, an obsessive perfectionist, a cynic, a sarcastic shit. He’s still loyal, distant, dependable, vicious, smart and devious, but there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. So when Talia tells him to take care of this or that threat, he does it and doesn’t care about the looks he earns for his methods. And when she orders him to take care of the Paige issue (because she’s always the white queen and Peter has to be the black knight), he does so without contemplations, and when they ask what’s wrong with you, Peter? afterwards, he says nothing, which will always be is his shameless answer no matter what happens onwards.

If the closest he can get to happiness is by achieving mental peace, Peter will take it and be, well, happy.

And then he’s on fire, everything is on fire, the pain is unbearable and it just won’t stop. At some point, when he can’t feel anything anymore and the screams have died, he briefly wonders if the kid had more luck than him before he welcomes the blessed darkness that closes down on him.

There are intruders in the house and it’s Peter’s job to stop them but the pain is unbearable and everything is in burning hot agony and Peter can’t move. Makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop. Peter can’t stand it, Peter can’t move, Peter is being dragged away, Peter can’t protect his pack.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

Peter screams and screams. The remaining pack bonds stretch thinner and thinner and thinner and thinner. They snap. He howls. He tries to grasp them but they slip through his fingers like sand. He howls and howls and howls.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

Peter is trapped, he can’t move, he’s alone, defenseless, vulnerable. He rages and screams and howls but no sound comes out of his mouth. He wants to rip, to avenge but he’s useless and his pack is dead.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

Peter will tear them apart, he will. And he will enjoy every second of it. His fangs will bite into flesh, his claws will tear into them, and he will make them feel every ounce of pain tenfold. One by one he will hunt them down and he will make them regret ever thinking of hurting his pack. Hurtful and dismissive and infuriating, but his. His and no one else’s. They will pay for taking them from him dearly.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)


For the first time in years he can move. The window is open and he surges through it. His legs give out and he grunts upon impact. He forces them to support his weight and pushes himself until he reaches the edge of the woods. The earthy smells assault his nose and the soft sounds of the forest fill his ears. He howls at the moon, high, high in the sky.

(No answer comes.)

Peter resists the temptation to rip the woman’s throat out and goes towards the woods instead. It’s a near thing but for now he needs her, so he can’t teach her how wrong she is for treating him like a dog that needs to be let out to take a piss at night. It will eventually come to that but he will wait until his skin stops feeling like cracking leather, until he doesn’t stumble every few steps because his muscles are still atrophied, until his lungs don’t protest at every effort he makes.

Peter dreams about it, though. Vividly. Her shocked face when she realizes that she has chewed more than she can swallow, her panicked breaths as she tries to flee, her choked screams as his claws tear into her.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

For now he has more important things to concentrate, though, since he has some murderers to hunt down and a pack to avenge. Besides, he has all the time to teach her why prey can’t play with predators after she has outlived her usefulness.

A month passes and he has yet to kill his nurse, who still treats him like a dog, who still acts like she has the upper hand, who still thinks that she will get what she wants. So, so stupid, but she’s still surprisingly useful for now so he ignores it. Instead, Peter digs and digs until he finds the ones responsible for the fire.

All things considered, it’s disgustingly easy. He gets his hands on all the reports and news articles on the fire, and he comes to a clear conclusion: someone either bribed the ones responsible for writing them or they doctored the evidence before the officials arrived.

It gives him a place to start in any case.

He tracks down one of the culprits to a seedy bar on the outskirts of town. It doesn’t take him very long to ascertain that the man is drinking in an effort to drown the guilt he feels for having participated on the whole thing, even if he only faked the information in the report.

Humans are funny things. The man wishes to atone for his sins so much that he even wants to die, but when faced with the real possibility of dying, he fights tooth and nail to survive. Which suits Peter just fine, because he wants to make them experience the terror, the helplessness and the pain his pack felt along with the asphyxiating certainty of defeat in the end.

He directs the terrified man to where he wants him and then he even lets him have some advantage before he gives chase. Peter makes him run for hours until the man lets himself drop in exhaustion to the ground, now too tired, too certain of his imminent death that he can’t care anymore. Peter makes him care once more and then, only then, tears into him, pacing himself to make it last. Ultimately, the man dies of shock, his heart giving out, rather than because of the wounds Peter inflicts on him.

With the information he got out of that man, he tracks down a bigger prey, one that participated directly in lighting his house on fire. He learned his lesson from his first prey and knows to push him only so far before getting his hands on him. When he tires of the chase, he bites into his ankles so he drops to the ground with a scream, his tendons ripped and unable to run anymore. If the man wants to move he’ll have to crawl, but before he makes it anywhere he’ll die of bloodloss. That certainty is so, so sweet… but still not enough. Every new sound Peter extracts out of him is as satisfying as the last one and he only laments that he can’t get more out of him, that his fragile human body breaks so quickly under his hands. He’ll do better next time, but for now he’s satisfied with having extracted more names from him before he lost his voice.

Then, one day, Laura appears and whatever good remains from the Peter from before the fire suffers a swift death just then when he realizes that it wasn’t that he had been left packless because everyone had died, but because he had been abandoned; when he learns that she’s only back because the news of the killings had reached her (the markings he instructed his nurse to leave on the animals to draw the ultimate culprits out calling her instead), not because she had finally come back for Peter.

He suspects it never even crossed her mind, just like with Talia a long time ago. But what did he expect? She (they, all of them) was taught that way, made that way just like Peter was made by them. But Peter learned from his mistakes so Laura will too?

What’s wrong with you, Peter?“ She asks horrified when he tells her why he killed those men, and then she refuses to avenge the pack. “I’m the alpha,” she growls. “I forbid you to continue.”

Peter blacks out for a moment. When he comes back to himself, he feels nothing at the sight of his dead niece. Some part of him is vaguely dissapointed that it doesn’t feel cathartic in some way that his claws took her life for her transgressions but, honestly, he feels nothing besides the need to scoff at the look of surprise and betrayal that will be permanently engraved on her face.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

Peter is stronger, faster, more powerful than he has ever been! It’s an exhilarating and euphoric feeling and he can’t have enough of it.

But he can get even better if he gets his own pack and since Peter has always been a firm believer of taking advantage of the opportunities that rise around him, there’s no time like the present. He lunges forward towards the boy -Pretty healthy if with a slightly weak-looking body. Smells a little like medicine, but unless he has some mental illness, the transformation will take care of it. If not, Peter will take care of him like a good alpha should, and teach him to use what he has. If he dies, he will try again.- and he doesn’t even get to scream before Peter’s teeth are sinking in his side.

The kid takes off running. Peter is very amused at the pup and entertains the thought of playing with him for a while, but he can hear people drawing near and it’s not like the teen won’t come when Peter beckons him tomorrow anyway, so he lets him slip away and returns to his hospital room even though he wants nothing less. However, since he wants the pleasure of seeing Kate Argent’s surprised face as he rips her throat out when she inevitably shows up, he’ll bear with it for now. Which, sadly, also means that he can’t get rid of his nurse either despite being self-sufficient again.

Well, they do say that what resists you is sweeter in the end.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

Well, look at who decided to finally show up.

Derek has grown up a lot since he saw him last, about six years ago. Gone are the baby fat and the awkward limbs but the bunny teeth that Peter used to vaguely find somewhat adorable remain. Viciously, Peter wishes Talia was still alive to see her son, to see what her ways brought upon them, what her negligent teachings resulted in. A mediocre daughter that couldn’t even keep up with the most basic duty of an alpha (never leave a packmate behind) and a stupid son that trusted the hunter that killed them all, that’s what. And now said daughter is dead and said son doesn’t look capable enough to survive by himself. Peter really wishes he could bring his sister back from the dead to see, because this is ultimately her fault and it’s not fair that she got the easy way out as always.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

He has the sudden urge to just gouge his nephew’s eyes out when they land on his scarred face and the nearly asphyxiating scent of despair and self-hate that clings to him threatens to overpower Peter’s sensitive nose. He can’t feel that remorseful if he’s showing up now, probably just because Laura has dropped out of the radar without warning.

He contains himself, but just barely. It helps that Derek merely stands there looking at him just for five minutes, making no move to speak, and then leaves. If he had tried to touch him, he doesn’t know if he’d been able to restrain himself. Peter doesn’t like to be touched nowadays. It’s more than enough that he has to bear with sponge baths, with being positioned here and there by complete strangers with no say whatsoever for the sake of keeping the farce up. If the touch wasn’t so clinical the walls would have been painted red a long time ago, and that may still happen if a certain nurse makes another crude joke about some parts of his anatomy.

Peter’s lips curl derisively for a second before he schools his face into a neutral expression once again. He lets his hands relax too when he notices he’s about to twist the metal of the wheelchair out of shape.

He wonders about what he should do about Derek. His first instinct is to kill him, of course, because Derek is not pack and is in his territory. Besides, instincts aside and on a more rational note, he doesn’t have any delusions about his dear nephew’s reaction when he finds out he killed Laura. And he will, that’s for sure, because they aren’t pack anymore (if they were, Peter would have felt the bond with Derek at the same time the alpha powers settled, but nothing was there until that boy’s bite took some hours ago and that fragile link sprouted to life), so there’s no way the alpha powers would have gone to Peter instead of Derek if she had died naturally, and he can’t sell someone else killing her and him taking revenge for her since he has already feigned still being comatose. However, after what he’s seen in the scant minutes he was here, Derek might actually welcome death as it will be the end of his suffering and Peter doesn’t want to give him the easy way out.

Choices, choices.

Well, Kate Argent is bound to appear soon and if Derek is here, she’ll be inclined to think it was him who killed those people. Leaving his nephew alive instead of killing him or driving him out of the territory might prove to be useful to keep her attention off Peter while he approaches her.

If he proves to be too troublesome, Peter can always change his mind at a later date, after all, and drive him out of the territory.

The boy comes only once, completely feral and out of control, and, of all things, tries to save the bus driver from Peter. He bats the unruly pup away (he doesn’t know better, after all) but in the end he has to leave because the boy is so out of it, so defensive, that to get what he wants he’d have to kill him and Peter doesn’t want that. And even though the need to rid the world of that scum that is cowering and smelling like urine is almost irresistible, it’s not worth the price right now. Besides, either the bus driver will die before help arrives or en route to the hospital, or he will end up not very far to Peter’s own room, and his nurse has to keep being useful unless she wants to become expendable, after all.

After that incident, the boy won’t come no matter how many times Peter calls. One part of him is peeved about the insubordination, but the other is reluctantly impressed because it demonstrates a great deal of the self-control that he lacked on their first encounter, so maybe he’s had luck this time.

Except it doesn’t take him too long to find out how wrong he is because he couldn’t have found a more asinine teenager even if he’d tried. He won’t submit, it looks like he resents being a werewolf despite all the advantages it has given him (he actually thinks of them as a compensation, which Peter finds pretty insulting, thank you very much) and, worst of all, he seems to share the same stupidity as Derek where the Argents are concerned. Peter would be able to work with that even if it’s not the best foundation to start from, but add to that his obtuse refusal to be taught to round it all up and it makes his first beta a perfect failure.

How disappointing.

Peter is reluctant about how to proceed, though. While he can’t afford to be weighted down by a liability, the boy is just a stupid pup, he doesn’t know better, and however fragile it might be, he’s pack, because that bond is still there. And Peter not only takes care of his messes -because this is undoubtedly his mess; a poor decision made hastily that he won’t repeat ever again, sure, but that resolution doesn’t change that it’s his responsibility to deal with it- but he takes care of his pack no matter how lacking they may be. It’s convoluted, he knows, but it’s how things work, how good alphas must be.

Still, not everything is a loss and the whole situation may be salvageable yet, because the boy with his wayward beta is certainly interesting and could prove to be the piece he’s missing to get his beta to come. With no apparent previous knowledge of the supernatural, he has managed to teach a newly turned wolf control to a certain degree, which is impressive. He also hasn’t chickened out even when faced with a feral werewolf, and that shows a loyalty that Peter values above anything else. Even better, he doesn’t seem afraid to do what’s necessary to keep his people safe, demonstrating a callousness that makes Peter giddy to see what he would be capable of if pushed.

All of which means that no matter how everything evolves, he can’t just take care of one Scott McCall even if he continues to refuse the bond and ends up breaking it completely (thus turning omega and not pack and not Peter’s responsibility anymore), as it will earn him a vengeful teenager with enough smarts to actually take him down. Again, a trait that he appreciates, but not aimed at him.

Well, if the worst comes to happen, there are hunters in town and Scott is dating the daughter of one, so Peter is sure that at one point or another, if he turns omega, he will cross a line and get himself killed and save Peter the trouble. He has patience in spades, he can wait.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)


Kate Argent finally comes into town. Peter expected her to come into his hospital room and try something but she doesn’t. Peter doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or not about it, but part of him is relieved, because he knows that if she’d had the gall… And while it would have been an immensely satisfying thing, if anyone deserves Peter taking his sweet time to tear their world apart, it’s her.

In the meantime, Peter tracks down another cockroach of the ones that helped burn his pack alive and goes to pay him a visit. As his claws are tearing into him without contemplations, he catches a wiff of something that is not human in a terrified girl that witnesses the whole thing along with another boy, and he files it out as something to investigate at a later date. He leaves the mangled corpse behind in clear sight, hoping that it will drive the message to Argent. You can run, you can hide, but his is what will happen to you no matter how much you try to avoid it.

Anticipation is part of the game, after all.

But still, Kate is a dangerous animal and confusing her would be worthwhile (and also Peter could use a little less of police patrols going around, to be honest), so he catches a mountain lion and releases it on the parking lot of the school and watches from far away as chaos reigns.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

He expected some kind of action from his wayward beta (prompted, no doubt, by Stiles), but being howled at to be lured at night to school is not precisely what he predicted. Nevertheless, he bites so to speak, and decides to make the most out of it and tricks the Argent girl into the school (maybe if she displays the common attitude of her family towards werewolves Scott will finally wake up?), getting the unexpected bonus of the boy and girl from the store, which is perfect, because he wanted to take a second look at her anyways.

It’s a very… revealing night, that’s for sure.

First, Lydia Martin is a banshee and she doesn’t know it, which can prove to be really useful for Peter at a later date if he plays his cards right. Second, that boy from the store has been scratched by a werewolf (either Derek or Scott, but Peter is pretty sure it was the former) and is exhibiting some kind of reaction to it. Third… he still cares at least a little bit for Derek, which is vexing to say the least.

By all means, Peter should have taken the chance to kill him on that parking lot but he simply incapacitated him. True, he hurt him quite a bit (that he cares about him doesn’t change the deep well of resentment he harbours, thank you very much) but he’ll recover from it given enough time. Why? Derek is proving to be more of a hindrance than anything else, because not only do the Argents already know that he’s not the alpha and are trying to use him to find Peter, but also, by the looks of it, he’s teaching all sorts of nonsense to Scott that couldn’t be more wrong. Which means that either Peter still cares about Derek or he still feels some kind of familiar duty towards his nephew. And he can’t deny this because when he’s shifted he acts more based on instinct, and he stayed away from vital organs… and it certainly wasn’t because he wanted to prolong his suffering.

All in all, Peter is left floundering a little because he has to re-evaluate his stance on this matter. However, before he can decide exactly about how to proceed, he gets found out.

“You must be Stiles,” he purrs, delighted to finally have a chance to asses Stiles’ intelligence in person without any intermediaries.

Except apart from an admittedly good self-preservation instinct, he doesn’t get to find out much because Derek intervenes.

(He sighs inwardly. Always so dramatic, his nephew.)

After the encounter, Peter abandons any semblance of subtlety and leaves the hospital entirely. He has managed to convince Derek that he killed Laura without recongnizing her. It’s a little stretch of the truth, because he obviously knew it was her, but it’s also true that he wasn’t in his right mind when he killed her and he’d have probably not done it if he was. In any case, there’s no way to prove it was otherwise and with the way he laid it out, Derek detected no lie, so Peter is pretty satisfied with the results.

While he waits for an opportunity to take Kate down, he does everything he can to make Scott accept the pack. Peter doesn’t think it will get him anywhere, to be honest, but it has the added bonus of acting as a test for Stiles to see if he will be a worthy beta, because it’s obvious that just winging it won’t work for a person with the kind of luck Peter has. Sadly, Scott is more than proof enough of that. He’s also sure that the only way to get Scott is to get Stiles, because they’re attached at the hip, but at this point he’ll be quite content with only getting the latter.

He tries to make Scott give up everyone in his life and Stiles metaphorically grabs at him and doesn’t let go. It also serves to make his beta stay away from the Argent girl, but sadly, it only makes Scott even more infatuated because of their forbidden love.

He asks Scott’s mother to a date, and the teen in question just gapes uselessly. Stiles crashes his jeep on Peter’s car to stop them from having said date. He nearly laughs delightedly right there.

Derek disappears, so Peter decides to kill two birds with one stone. He crashes their prom night both to attack Stiles’ date (because Peter always has backup plans) and to get Derek’s whereabouts out of him, and the teen bargains for her life, terrified but sure. He gives up a way to locate Derek through Scott’s phone, but Peter can see a plan already forming in his eyes, so he makes the teen go with him, because a person like Stiles can do a lot of damage out of sight, while Peter has control of the situation if he doesn’t leave him behind.

“Do you want the bite, Stiles?” Peter asks instead of simply taking it and the teen says no. He’s lying, he can tell, but Peter leaves anyway. He has more than enough time to convince him later.

(He doesn’t.)

That night, he finally manages to slit Kate Argent’s throat from side to side, so at least there’s that. Unlike with Laura, this time it does feel cathartic because even if he doesn’t get to tear stripe after stripe of skin out of her he can torture her with the prospect of losing her niece. -He instantly wishes he could revive Kate so he could kill her again, but this time drawing it out, just like she executed his pack (imperfect, neglectful, bastards most of the time, but ultimately his) agonizingly slow.- But drawing an apology from her provides nothing to Peter besides the pleasure of getting her to give something she didn’t want to give, so while she’s still conscious, he jumps at Allison, who is going to turn up like her aunt anyways, because that family is a poison like that.

In the end, he doesn’t have time to convince Stiles, after all. He ends up on fire and Derek tears his throat out without an ounce of hesitation, just like Peter did with Kate. The little and deeply buried part of him that didn’t want to kill Derek because it remembered dies a swift death, unlike Peter, who agonizes for a bit still on fire as he chokes on his own blood.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

Getting one Lydia Martin to do what he wants shouldn’t be this easy, seeing the terrifying intelligence hidden under her almost too perfect strawberry blond curls, but it is. It helps that she’s mostly ignorant about the supernatural world and that Peter keeps her terrified enough not to get her footing back, he thinks, because he doubts it would be this easy if she wasn’t. As it is, though, it’s just as easy as getting information from her about what’s happening in Beacon Hills right now.

Part of him considers letting go for a moment, because so much stupidity is unbearable. Really? Peter had thought he had made a bad call biting Scott, but Derek is taking that to a whole new level. Then again, what can he expect? This is Talia’s teachings working their magic, after all. She had barely started training Laura, but she never even bothered with Derek, not even just in case something happened.

(Peter kinda hopes that the afterlife is a thing so that she’s watching.)

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

It’s not like he has any other options, though, because now that the ritual has started he has to finish it or face being stuck in this limbo of sorts for the rest of eternity or, with any luck, until this girl dies. And although with how things are progressing that doesn’t seem too far off in time, really, with Peter’s luck she’ll die and he’ll be haunting this place forever, so he better move things along before that happens.

His nephew’s horrified face almost makes it all worth the trouble and he nearly stays to gloat. Instead, he leaves for now. He’s already been left behind and killed by him once, and Peter always learns from his mistakes… or he tries to anyway, and he can tell that he’s weaker than he was before he was even the alpha, so right now he wouldn’t stand a chance if Derek tried to enact a kill uncle, take two.

He knows he can’t stay away from his alpha (his lips curl derisively against his will) for long, though. Not only he can’t afford to turn an omega right now, but his information about this ritual is limited (which is why he left it as a last resort), so for all he knows, it will unravel if he’s not near the alpha that brought him back and he’ll end up six feet under again and stuck in between. And while he doesn’t want to touch what’s going on in Beacon Hills right now with a ten foot pole, he’s gone through too much trouble to stay alive to let it go to waste. Besides, while he’s not as insane and hell bent on revenge as he was before dying -because there’s no doubt about that, he was completely crazy… so crazy, sloppy and out of control he wants to cringe- he still has a little of that feeling inside. Enough, in fact, to seize the opportunity to take care of more Argents if it wanders by and doesn’t pose a threat to his continued existence. Besides, staying alive as a big fuck you to the family that disdained his ways and ended up dying for not being more like him in the end is something he appreciates quite a bit too.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

So, all in all, he has to depend on Derek for now until he can get himself an alpha to kill and regain his independence again. Which means he has to find out why Derek turned on him at the last minute. He’s not looking forward to that conversation now that he hasn’t the upper hand, that’s for sure.

But before that, he has to know what’s happening exactly to be able to play his cards right. Because as much as he knows the information he got from Lydia to be true, it’s also an incomplete and he hasn’t ever been one to rely on intel he hasn’t acquired by himself anyway.

So information gathering he goes… After getting a shower, clean clothes and a much needed haircut, of course, because he felt disgusting, thank you very much. Maggots and dirt is not a look he favours by any means, after all.

He gathers as much as he can before even contemplating coming back. From what he learns the Argent girl is as much of a psycho as her aunt (who called it? who?), Gerard Argent is the master of the kanima now and plotting something nefarious (nope, not worrying at all), Scott is double playing with him (which ratches up his decision to bite him right to the top of his not-a-good-call list because how can he be so stupid?), two of Derek’s betas are about to risk becoming omegas just to leave this hellhole of a town (which simultaneously makes them idiots and smart and he never thought that possible) while the third is gravitating towards Scott (another idiot), and Derek is as an incompetent of an alpha as Peter expected him to be. Apart from that, the video store boy is the kanima, Stiles seems to be the same and Lydia still doesn’t know why he had to use her for the ritual. Summarised, everything is going to go to hell in a nicely wrapped package and probably over the next few days at the most.

He could have certainly chosen to come back at a better time… if the damn ritual hadn’t had a deadline, that is.

Well, no matter. Peter can use this to his advantage, actually, because Derek will need him in one way or another because of the situation and he won’t be able to say no.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

As luck would have it, just the day he decides to give it a go, Derek’s betas grow a backbone (one Peter still isn’t sure is a smart or a stupid one) and tell him they’re leaving. Peter swoops in while the wound is still gaping open, so to speak, and he gets thrown around for all his troubles. He takes it for a bit, waiting for most of the anger to burn itself out and when it doesn’t seem likely, he finally snaps.

(Because no matter what, the one thing he won’t do is beg.)

It works.

“See?” Peter mutters looking at his reflection with a grimace. The wound in his mouth is still sluggishly bleeding even if it is mending itself slowly. Derek is sitting a few feet away on the stairs’ steps, face stony and silent. Peter doesn’t let it deter him. “Fine example, right here. I’m not healing as fast. Coming back from the death isn’t easy you know, I’m not as strong as I used to be,” he states simply, as if the person that is with him isn’t the one who killed him. Putting his weaknesses in the open leaves a sour taste in his mouth, but he sees no other way to put Derek at ease so it’s a necessary evil. “I need a pack, an alpha. Like you.” And God if this isn’t humiliating for Peter, who even at his worst hasn’t ever depended on anyone. “I need you as much as you need me.”

“Why would I want help from a total psycho?” Derek grunts after he scoffs, not even turning to look at Peter.

“First of all, I’m not a total psycho,” Peter corrects him before feeling the need to point out. “By the way, you’re the one that slashed my throat right open, but we’re all works in progress, right? So.” Is there a flicker of regret he sees there? Oh, good, Peter feels better about wanting to find alpha powers somewhere else now that he sees some reciprocity on the familial front. “We need each other. Sometimes when you need help, you turn to people you’d never expect.”

Derek’s shoulders slump a little as his mouth presses into a tighter line and Peter knows he has gained a foothold, so it’s time to use what always saved him the spot in his pack no matter what happened: his knowledge.

He shares what he knows about Scott and Gerard and tells him how to save Jackson, because for all that Derek’s first inclination seems to be killing (which Peter finds equally amusing and hypocritical on his part), deep down he wants exactly the opposite.

Several hours later Peter is regretting deeply ever coming back to life. Jackson is about to turn into a gigantic creature that has wings (which implies flying, as if it wasn’t sufficiently terrifying when it was earth-bound) and they have to rely on Tweedledee and Tweedledum to bring it towards them. Ah, and with the help of Chris Argent, wonderful! If that wasn’t bad enough, Derek is doing as always and rushing in without any plan whatsoever, which is exactly what that geriatric fascist wants. This is the recipe for disaster and Peter can do nothing but to try to stay away from the crossfire and wait for an opportunity to either strike or beat it as fast as his legs can carry him because he really wasn’t exaggerating (if anything, he was downplaying it) when he said he was weak.

Life has never been better.

(That was sarcasm, if anyone was wondering.)

Everything goes to hell, of course, no surprises there. Gerard makes his appearance after making Jackson maim Derek and the little mini Kate doesn’t have any qualms about shooting her first love. Again, nothing surprising there. What is surprising is Scott using Derek to bite Gerard because he wants to be cured of cancer, even more so when it turns out the teen has been switching the man’s medication with mountain ash filled pills so that if it came down to it, the bite would kill him. It’s impressively cunning and Peter would find himself reluctantly impressed if he didn’t dislike the sloppy execution (despite being at odds, no one can use Peter’s family unless it’s Peter himself) and didn’t suspect someone else’s hand at play in all this.

Nevertheless, Peter finds the image of a black goo vomiting Gerard a sight for the sore eyes. A sight that gets completed by the little bitch’s expression of betrayal and self-loathing and Chris’ revolted and pained one. Well, that earns Scott a descend to the still respectable second position on his not-a-good-call list, congratulations.

(Given his previous record, Peter is pretty sure he won’t stay that low on the list for long, though.)

Everything devolves into a fist fight once again and why is everyone forgetting about the psycho bitch that was trying to kill them not a minute ago, Peter doesn’t understand, not even in the face of a common enemy, so he keeps his distance.

Stiles chooses that moment to crash his jeep right through the walls and into the kanima, bringing Lydia with him. Peter would swear he hears a celestial chorus singing in the background, because yes! Someone else thinking with their brains and not their fists! Peter feels even more vindicated when the teen beats a hasty retreat right afterwards, because someone finally has an ounce of self-preservation instincts too!

Lydia goes forward, terrified but unwavering, holding her trembling hand up with what looks like a key. Peter is quite ambivalent about her, but he hopes she doesn’t end up a shish kebab if only so that dealing with Jackson doesn’t become even more difficult. He has already been thrown around quite a bit today and while a bed sounds heavenly right now, he won’t get that until this matter is resolved. And that will happen certainly sooner if Lydia doesn’t end up in a kanima claw skewer.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

She doesn’t and Jackson turns back partially. He nods at Derek while Lydia cries, and while that is clearly a sign of acceptance to his fate, Peter doesn’t want to risk it (specially since Derek goes for the frontal assault as always) so he attacks from behind too. And Jackson dies in a scene worthy of a movie that Peter would give an Oscar to.

Thank god it’s over, Peter really needs that bed and cleaning this mess up is going to take a while.

Except since this is Beacon Hills, nothing is that easy, and Jackson comes back to life a regular werewolf. Color Peter confused, because he’s never heard of this happening… but well, now he doesn’t have to find a way to bring back a body to the morgue, so at least that’s nice? And since there’s no way that Chris Argent will not take care of his father’s body, he doesn’t get the pleasure of burning it either, so essentially the wish of a bed in his near future has become more of a certainty rather than a possibility.

“Is leaving him alive really wise?” He asks, because someone has to, because they don’t know if this change is permanent.

Except for Stiles, who just purses his lips, and Chris Argent, who is as stony as ever, the rest turn to look at him horrified.

“What’s wrong with you, Peter?” Derek hisses.

Peter smiles with all teeth.

(Ah, so it’s going to be this way.)

And now the alpha pack is in town, isn’t that wonderful?

Why was he so adamant on staying alive besides for being a contrary bastard?

(Peter has to remind himself a lot of the sweet sight of a destroyed Argent family these days.)

“What’s wrong with you?” Seethes Derek before throwing Peter into a wall and leaving.

Peter picks himself up, a satisfied smirk never leaving his face, and dusts his clothes. Riling his nephew is so easy and at the same time so immensely satisfying… His day isn’t complete if those words haven’t left his mouth and if he gets him to lose it enough to get physical, he counts it as a win, because lately that doesn’t happen that much for some reason he can’t discern. What? He’ll take pleasure from everything he can these days. And since Stiles is here most of time helping with the search of Erica and Boyd, he’s become his unwitting accomplice, because boy, does he irritate Derek. Peter would go as far as to consider it a gift the teen has.

He’ll never admit it to the teen, of course, but he really enjoys the verbal matches he has with him. Stiles has always been mouthy, but now that he doesn’t think likely that Peter will attack him (although Peter knows he keeps mountain ash on himself at all times, the smart kid) his invective is a thing of beauty.

Out of all the people that Peter could have been saddled with, he has been lucky, indeed.

(Part of him mourns that Stiles wasn’t the one out there in the woods or that he didn’t accept the bite when Peter could give it to him. The possibilities… Ah, it would have been glorious, wouldn’t it?)

“Anything you want to share with the class, Stiles?” He drawls to the teen, who has been staring fixedly at him since Derek left to drag Isaac into another patrol through the woods, hoping to find something that wasn’t there yesterday, or the day before, or the day before (and so on) and that Peter bets that won’t be today either.

“You know, I was a kid so I had an excuse, but what’s your deal?”

Peter arches an eyebrow and levels the teen with an unimpressed stare. Stiles huddles in his too big red hoodie and raises both eyebrows at him, unrepentant. Peter blinks slowly, because he wasn’t wearing that before and because it feels familiar. Suddenly, his breath catches because he’s pretty sure that if he looks on the back of it, he’ll find a 01 accompanied by his last name in big bold letters.

“There’s nothing wrong with you? What a load of bullshit.” Peter can’t breathe and he’s insanely grateful that Stiles can’t hear that. “There’s something wrong in everyone, so who fucking cares?


There’s something wrong in everyone, Peter,” Stiles repeats, his intense eyes never leaving Peter’s, “so who fucking cares? Right, wrong, who cares? Whoever says that there’s nothing wrong with them is either delusional or a child or plain stupid.”

“There’s… something wrong with me?” Peter finds himself unconsciously parroting back and this is ridiculous, this shouldn’t affect him this much, shouldn’t feel as if he’s having an epiphany. “And there’s nothing wrong with that?”

“Not unless the wrong in you tries to have another go at my people, because then my wrong would come out to play, and everything would be wrong with that… for you, capiche?”

“Duly noted,” Peter answers as dryly as he can, because his world feels off its axis right now.

Then, Stiles extends an arm, hand clearly possed for a handshake and Peter is reaching before he can think of it. When Stiles lets go, gummy bears have been left behind.

Peter can’t help it. He laughs.

(And for the first time, he feels happy.)

What’s wrong with you, Peter?

Who cares?

This might just be me trying to be positive af, but I think Jackson is doing well. He had to skip the event today, but it might be that he’s either resting more or catching up on practice he missed so he can be properly warmed up or whatever. I think if something was truly wrong, it would show on the other members’ faces. Got6 has been acting pretty usually, so I’m thinking things are okay :)

U-uhm…Ania are you okay? I mean…I saw your “Part 7” video..and..I got worried about you. I’m sure you already answered this question many times because I know I’m not the only one who cares about you. U-uhm..I just…I realy like you. Well…uh..oh by the way! I loved your new video! I missed Goth and Palette so much! So..if I said something wrong I’m so sorry! And if my english isn’t the best it’s because I’m a portuguese who never cared about English classes. S-so…be okay Ania.

—————————————- I realise that I say thank you a lot to my fans but it’s true, thank you for all the nice comments and asks to me I just occasionally have moments where I think ‘am I truly liked?’ Then I look back at my asks and comments so thank you
4c hair ain't meant to be straightened

After 10 months of tending to my hair after I straightened it, I’ll probably never do it again.

I straightened my hair February 28th (my birthday) of 2015. Shortly after I washed it & noticed my curls did come back but my hair didn’t feel the same. It was thinner. More manageable. I could easily do a slick back ponytail (which caused my hair to break because it was thinner at the time). I asked my friend who straightened my hair what was going on because it didn’t seem like heat damage but I knew something was wrong. She told me everyone’s hair gets a little damaged whenever you straighten it, I was lowkey pissed.

So over time I just went back to my regimen & continued to do my hair as normal, which is when I started to see it was truly damaged. My ends were way thinner than the new growth.
Finally after 10 months, my hair is back to the length as last year before I straightened it 🙌🏾🙌🏾
Lesson learned !

No heat is the best choice for my hair. Let me know if you can relate

Breath of the Wild Soundtrack





Making Sure You’re Safe!

Request: would you please do a Reader x Peter Hale where the reader gets attacked one night and afterwards Peter always follows her around sometimes even without her knowing, to keep an eye on her because he feels guilty because he introduced her to the supernatural. Then she finds out and reassures him and it ends all fluffy? Thank you!                                                                                                                                                 Warning:None!                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 Note:I hope that you’re going to like it so if you do let me know..And I’m really sorry if it’s short.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 I was on my way to my sister home,she asked me to take care of my niece tonight because she have a date..It was cold and windy tonight..I have some strange feeling that something wrong will happen or am I just being paranoiac,truly it’s been like that since Peter told me about all the supernatural things that happened and still do..I was about to turn into the next street when suddenly everything went black.                                                                                                                                                                                                         I opened my eyes adjusting to the light,I instantly felt a sharp pain in my head so I put a hand on it and tried to sit up..’Easy,easy Y/n.’ I turned to look at Peter ‘Ugh what the hell happened?’ He sat down beside me putting a wet towel on my head some omega werewolf attacked you but luckily  I was there on time.’ I looked at him confused..’So are you following me now or what?’                         ‘Ummm..What?No!’ I stood up..’So how do you know where I was then?’           ‘I passed by and accidentaly saw that it was you.’ I let out a sigh not wanting to argue ‘Fine,but I need to call me sister.’I grabbed my phone but he stopped me ‘I already did that.’ I smiled softly ‘Thank you.’   He smiled back and spread his arms..’Now come here you need to rest..’A instantly runned into his arms and ‘Yeah you’re right,I feel like I was hit by a huge truck.’                                                                                                                                                                  Some days passed and somehow everything was fine,there was no supernatural things lately so I felt kind of relieved because of that..I was in my backyard lying down,watching the stars…Then suddenly I heard something in the bush and instantly got up  but when I saw a shadow so I knew who it was..’You can come out Peter,I know you there..’He stood in front of me looking unsure..I crossed my arms over my chest..’What do you think you’re doing?” …  ‘Who?What?’                                                                                       ‘Oh don’t play stupid don’t suits you.’ He let out a sigh and walked closer to me ‘Fine you got me,I was just making sure that you’re okay.’ I put my hands down..’But why?’ He put his hands on my shoulders …’Because I love you and it’s basically my fault that you got hurt in the first place.’ I looked at him..’That’s no true, I’m with you because I want to and I love you too..Not because I’m scared or something..So there’s no need to play a guardian the whole damn night.’ We both smiled..’But seriously Peter,promise me you’ll stop.’He put a hand on my cheek..’I can promise you that I won’t follow you around,but I’ll always take care of you..Always.’ He kissed me and honestly I’m really lucky to have him..’That works too.’                        

Remember me, part 1 - Thomas Jefferson x Reader

Originally posted by ghost--tits

^ this still cracks me up

My dearest Angelica,

I am very pleased to hear that Paris is a nice city. From the letter you wrote me a month ago I got the feeling that you were unhappy in France. I hope you are very well and your husband is also in good health.

Thomas will be returning from France soon, I received a letter from Monsieur de Lafayette yesterday, Thomas was too busy to write, but is on his way to America together with our daughter.

I am very happy to hear that you saw my Margaret a time ago. She writes me every week and it appears she is becoming very good in the French language. She is truly a talented child and I’m sure that someday she will blow us all away!

I have been a little nervous lately, Thomas hasn’t been writing me for a whole month. The only letters from France came from you, Margaret and Lafayette. I am worried something is wrong or that I’ve said something that displeased him.

Your sister, Eliza , visited me yesterday and she is very well. She apologizes for not being able to write you a letter, but the poor dearest has too many things to do. I am coming over soon and I will help her. She is seven months pregnant and far too busy. Alexander is also very well, but busy writing the Federalist Papers or something. He is truly working non stop and will not come out of his office. They both send you and John their love!

My best wishes,

Y/N Jefferson

You finished the letter to Angelica, smiling to yourself. It was very boring here in Monticello, only having the slaves to talk to who were starting to detest your ramblings. When Margaret, your adopted daughter, a seventeen year old girl with raven black hair and Thomas, your husband, would come back from France everything would be so much better.

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