study for dark green

Trouble - Jughead Jones

ikkaylove said:

can i have a jughead imagine where he accidentally forgets our anniversary and i give him the silent treatment but then we make up in the end. (something like that)

Anonymous said:

Could I please request a Jughead imagine where the two of you get into a big fight and then make up afterwards with lots of fluff

Anonymous said:

DKSFWHER can u do fic where the reader finds out about jughead’s situation and convinces her/their parents to let him crash w/ them since he has nowhere else and,,, he’s just so, grateful and it’s just rlly fluffy bc he’s so lucky 2 have the reader (romantically or platonically, either is fine) ;0;

Originally posted by dailycwriverdale

Okay, I hope all of you were okay with me mixing these requests. As soon as I read them I had an idea, so let’s see if you like it!!!

Jughead : Y/N I’m sorry.

Jughead : Please answer me

Jughead : At least let me explain.

You watched as your phone screen continued to light up with texts from your boyfriend, Jughead Jones. You didn’t dare reply, you were still fuming about today. It was your one year anniversary as a couple and Jughead, he forgot about it. You felt a little petty that it annoyed you so much, but it was important. So important that, after school before he could go home, you found him and chewed him out for forgetting about it.

“What the Hell, Jones,” you had said, shocking your boyfriend. “What?” You had felt so much anger in that moment, you snapped. “You forgot about our anniversary!” Realization reached his eyes and he dropped his overloaded backpack to the ground. “I’m sorry Y/N, I just have,” You just shook your head, “yeah, I get it. You were too busy with something more important, probably your stupid novel. That’s fine Jughead.” You were about to turn around when you felt him grab your arm. “Y/N please just hear me out,” you simply pulled away from him. “Not now Jughead, I’ll call you later.” You had stormed away from him,  leaving him distraught.

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anonymous asked:

How do you color code your notes? As in what does each color signify? Thank you in advance xx

Hi! My colour code is:

  • black - for general notes.
  • light blue - for terms and their definitions/synonyms.
  • red - for sentence points and key ideas in my study notes (usually not class notes). 
  • dark blue - for businesses, agencies, legislation, etc. 
  • light green - for quotes, case studies.
  • dark green - for people’s names or important dates.
  • purple - for books titles, publications, reports. 
  • pink - for statistics. 
  • orange - for examples.

Hope that helps x

16.3.16 I’m trying out green tea! Loving it so far it really energises me. I’m finally starting the infernal devices as well and getting the final parts of my initial research for my FMP finished so I can really get into designing! xxx emily

Studying while on your period

Studying while you’re on your period sometimes might even get too hard for the best of us. Over the time I found some pretty useful things that at least help me to get comfortable again and get me into the appropriate mood for studying again without having the feeling to die any time.

  • Before studying The last thing you would want is to run out of tampons/pads so make sure you have enough of them at home.
    Hot water bottles are your best friends and if you suffer from period cramps as I do, these bottles can really safe your ass. Here you can find the one I am using.
    And lastly, if you have experienced cramps that get too bad, make sure you have some painkillers at hand - optional: there are many teas such as raspberry leaf tea that have an natural effect on you.
  • Studying Lovelies!!! Keep yourself hydrated however stay away from coffee or anything that has caffeine in it - caffeine is commonly known to have bad effects on your period cramps and make them even worse.
    Make sure to listen to your body. (It is perfectly fine if you make an exception and study in bed - make it as cozy as you can) If you feel like you can’t handle it anymore and cannot concentrate on your studies, take a break. Nursing yourself and get yourself some leafy greens, dark chocolate and whole grains instead of some junk food (I admit some sweets are good, but get yourself the better alternative!) and reward yourself.
    When you’re on a break stretch a bit, or go for a short walk or something, this will keep your mind also fresh for a new start!

anonymous asked:

Hi Emma! I'm not sure if this is something you have already answered, but I saw your post about your colour-coded notes and was just wondering what your method is for this? Do you have certain colours for things? And how do you prevent it from taking a lot of time?

Hi! I colour words for certain things! Here is my code:

  • black - for general notes.
  • light blue - for terms and their definitions/synonyms.
  • red - for sentence points and key ideas.
  • dark blue - for businesses, agencies, legislation, etc.
  • light green - for quotes, case studies.
  • dark green - for people’s names or important dates.
  • purple - for books titles, publications, reports.
  • pink - for statistics.
  • orange - for examples.

Honestly, it does take a lot of time. Especially when you switch pens a lot. The only way to really shorten it is to reduce the number of colours you have. If you have class notes but type up study notes, you could colour code the study notes only xx

4 Tips for the Bedroom:

(No, not like that, we’re talking decor.) Your bedroom is one of the most important rooms in your house. With my obsession with redecorating, I can’t even count how many times I’ve changed my bedroom around. (Yes I can…I’ve had green walls, multi-colored walls, beige, purple, pink and now white. Along with many bedding changes.) I’ve decided to finally keep my bedroom the way it is now for a while. Which means my parents have gotten me to redo their bedroom (yes!) So here I am in my jammies sipping a cup of coffee about to give you some tips on how you can love your bedroom again, and what I’ve learned so far:

1. ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɪᴛ ᴄʟᴇᴀɴ 

This is so important! A messy and cluttered bedroom leads to cluttered thoughts in the morning, at night and NO one wants to look at dirty clothes, empty shopping bags or bills when they are about to ‘get it on’ … so make it your mission this week. Do a complete purge and declutter of your bedroom. Your bedroom should have very little ‘things’ in it. (ex. A bed, headboard, two matching side tables, two matching lamps. MINIMAL decorative accessories on either side, an extra small piece of furniture like a chair in the corner depending on the size of your room, a dresser, and two pieces of art. Less is more. 

2. ɪɴᴠᴇsᴛ ᴡɪsᴇʟʏ 

You spend about 25% of your life in bed. That’s CRAY CRAY. But this is where you want to put your investment: Your mattress and your bedding. Since we spend so much time in bed (whether you’re spending your days off there, ‘gettin busy’ or just using it to sleep, you don’t want to be getting a sore back or not having a good nights sleep. Once you’ve invested in the most important things in the bedroom, then you can splurge on the throw pillows. ;) 

3. ᴅᴏɴᴛ sʜᴇᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴅ 

Let’s talk sheets. Specifically white sheets. I know you must be thinking “What?! White sheets?! But they’ll get so dirty!” Well guess what? So does black, brown, blue and green sheets. You just don’t see it as well. Which is even worse! Sorry, but I want the place I sleep to be CLEAN and if it’s not, I want to see it! You should be washing your sheets once a week. I know lot’s of you don’t. Make Sundays your cleaning day. Strip those sheets and toss em in the wash. Sadly, white sheets only stay ‘white’ for about 1-2 years. Which means your going to be replacing them. So for a good budget, I recommend shopping for sheets at Ikea. They are surprisingly VERY comfortable for a LOW price. 

4. ɴᴇᴜᴛʀᴀʟ ɪs ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ

In my opinion, lots of colour doesn’t belong in the bedroom. Palettes of white, grey and light blue are best. If you must have colour, dark colours can work. Dark brown, green and grey. Studies say red can make you feel tense so stay away from red. 

Snow White.// Draco Malfoy x Reader

Title: Snow White.

Request: Imagine= y/n is Slytherin. Cunning, mature and knows how to read people, a bit of a loner of own choice and her appearance is similar to Snow Whites look! Always up to late in the night in the commroom or astronomy tower. Draco and y/n slowly fall for each other. She got abused and assaulted by students wanting to hurt Draco one night but he saves her in time and takes care of her, he also confessed that he is a death eater and y/n stays with him anyway. (Not a softie Draco pls)! Thnx <3

Pairing: Slytherin! Reader x Draco.

Warning: Like one curse word?

A/N: This is going to be like a over the year thing, but I really like it; this isn’t really like the request im sorry. It was hard for me to stay with it when I came out with this in the time of five hours.


Black hair dark like a raven, and skin as white as snow, was how the Snow White story began.

You had heard about Snow White when a Muggleborn told you how much you looked like her. You sat in your shared dormitory with Pansy. She was going on about how pretty you were, as you applied the red lipstick. “Pansy, hush it. You’re beautiful.” You laughed. She rolled her eyes, “Are you serious? Everyone loves you! I mean, of course, none of the people outside Slytherin. They’re too scared of you.” She laughed, you giggled picking up the mascara from the bedside table beside you, “Thanks Pansy,” she nodded, “Even Draco loves you.” Her voice got low, “You mean that boy you’re obsessed with?” you asked, “It’s not a obsession, just a deep love for someone.” Rolling your eyes you turned around, “Obsessed is a better word for it.” You smirked turning back to your floor length mirror, “Anyways, we’re only in our third year, perhaps he’ll fall in love with you.” “Maybe.” She simply replied as you finished your lashes, “Now we must go to breakfast.” She smiled, you nodded getting up undoing your hair from the messy bun it was in, quickly putting your black sandals on, matching your white button down, and plaid skirt, pulling at your pantyhose you left.


A year had past from that exact date, and from that time you had grown. Everything has grown. Pansy seemed jealous and when Draco asked you to The Yule Ball, Pansy was beyond mad. So, Pansy had decided that she would make Draco jealous.

You and Pansy had been sitting in your dorm getting ready for the dance. Your long midnight blue dress was hanging from the railing on your bed, white heels by your bed. Pansy had asked if you had any lip-gloss, and so now you’re rummaging through the red makeup bag for the two lip glosses you had brought with you. Finding the pink tinted one, you handed it to her. “Thank you.” She turned quickly, her hair flying behind her. You raised your eye brow as you turned back to your mirror, putting your red lipstick on, grabbing your dress and turning around, putting it on.

You and Pansy walked out of the room together, she was going with Crabbe, just as friends, of course. Draco was sitting in the common room when you came out. Neither you nor Pansy stopped your conversation about your family. “Of course my mum and dad are proud I’m friends with the Draco Malfoy, but they were so very excited when I wrote them about going to the ball with him.” You gave her a sly smirk, turning around to great Draco, “You look beautiful.” He said when you faced him, smiling you linked your arms together.

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” He smiled at your compliment, walking you both out of the common room to the hallway.

“So your parents are happy you came with me?” he asked, his famous smirk plastered on his face, “Why wouldn’t they be?” you asked, eyebrow raised, “I don’t know, you tell me.” smiling you got up, setting the drink he had given you on the table, you put your hand out, “Let’s dance.” Draco grabbed your hand, you pulled him to the dance floor, putting your hands around his neck. His hands went to your waist, as you guys danced. “I’m glad you came with me,” he smiled, “Me too.”


When fifth year came, the first day you were back, was the first day you were thought of as a couple. You guys had walked into the great hall hand in hand, laughing at something stupid you had said. “No but seriously Draco, mum and dad did that.” You giggled at the story. Sitting beside each other, you kept talking, not missing a single word either of you said. Pansy was the one to pull you from your daze of a conversation, “How are you two doing?” she asked, you both shrugged, “Are you a couple?” she asked, your eyebrows knitted together. “Of course not, he’s my best friend.” You smiled, she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

Later that night, Pansy started asking you more questions, “He’s in love with you,” she whispered, making your eyes roll, “Yeah, and I’m superman.” You snickered, “I know you love him,”

“And? So what if I do? You can still be obsessed with him Pansy, I won’t get jealous.” You jokes, but your joke wasn’t a joke to her.


It took Pansy a year to come after you. Sixth year was overall the hardest year, you were already known as someone who stays up late no matter what Snape said, but you were also known as Draco’s girlfriend, who didn’t put up with any of his bullshit.

Today wasn’t any different than last. You had stayed up reading a book and drink a cup of tea. You read the last page of the book before setting it down, sighing. “Another book finished, only twelve more to go.” You sat your now cold tea on the table next to the couch, pulling at the sleeves of your dark green sweater. Looking into the fire, you studied the way the flames moved. You heard a pair of footsteps, than another, than another. About three pairs?

Who would be up at this time?

You looked up at the clock, you heard a screeching voice behind you, “Y/N why are you up?” Pansy asked, making you turn your head. “Reading, it was a book Draco recommended. It was quite brilliant if I do say so myself. Want to see it?” you asked, picking up the book. “No I don’t want to see the book.” She sneered, your eye narrowed. “What has your knickers in a twist?” laughing, turning back to look at the fire. Crabbe and Goyle were behind her, you not taking notice. When you weren’t paying attention you felt a hit against the back of your head.

“Ouch,” you muttered, putting your hand on your head. “This is what happens when you lie to your friends.” Pansy said harshly. Turning around was a mistake, you were hit in the face, square in the nose, with a very powerful punch. You couldn’t get a word in as she started throwing punches. “I told you I loved Draco,” she muttered under her breath. Struggling to get a word out without her punching your teeth out you whimpered, “Stop,” she didn’t. Your heart was pumping and you couldn’t do much, you let out a blood curdling scream when you felt a especially hard punch to your jaw. Loads of people started running out. Draco walked out of his room, bothered by the ruckus, before noticing your hair; his eyes grew as he ran down the steps, pushing kids to get his way.

“Move, move! That’s my girlfriend you git!”

When Draco got down to see everything closer, he pushed himself through the two bigger bodies. “Pansy!” his voice rose, she looked behind her, “Oh, hey.” She smiled, a bit of blood on her fist. “Get off my girlfriend!” his voice rose higher, as he pulled her off. Grabbing you and holding you in his arms he looked at you. “Go! Leave!” he shouted. He stroked your hair as he lifted your body up, “I can get up you know?” you laughed, he chucked looking down, “I guess you’re right.”

“I am right.” Draco rolled his eyes at your comment, he lead you to his room, opening the door before shutting it. “Are you okay?” he asked, you shrugged, “I’ll go to the infirmary in the morning, but for now, I would like to sleep.” You laid on his bed, “I actually want to talk to you,” he said, sitting beside you after discarding his shirt, “Go on,”

“Well, please don’t be disappointed.”

“Why would I, of all people, be disappointed in you Draco?” your voice was soft, but full of sarcasm, “Unless, of course, you cheated on me with Pansy.” Your eyebrow raised, and his eyes widened, “No! No! Never would I do that to you, I love you too much.” He sounded panicked, you knitted your eyebrows together, laying a hand on his thigh you looked at him, “Tell me.” your voice was stern and had a look that could kill.

“I’m a death eater.” He confessed, you sucked in a breath. “Okay, is that all?” you asked, “Yeah.”

“I still love you either way. Whether or not you’re a death eater or not, I will love you endlessly; now if you don’t turn off the light and cuddle me I might not, but I know you’ll make the right decision and cuddle me.” you smiled as his lips curled into a grin. He stood up to turn off the light before laying in bed with you. “Thank you for not leaving.” He muttered, “Thank you for saving me.” you thanked before falling asleep.

Mint and Paper

GaiaSanta Secret Santa Prompt:
@10kiaoi : Turk Cloud assigned to keep an eye on CC Sephiroth. Humor preferably.
A/N: I had so much fun writing this! I hope that you enjoy it very much! Merry Christmas, 10kiaoi!

 

He’d always intended to be a Soldier. It was what he’d left home for and what he’d desired since he was a boy. But then the man in the sharp suit had gifted him with a different option—one that he was assured would suit him perfectly.

As grueling as the Soldier training had been, Turk training was worse. But his paycheck skyrocketed, even as he learned the easiest way to clean a corpse, and the fastest way to dig up a grave, and the most effective method of using hostages. Unlike the traditional tactics and history classes, Cloud excelled at the one-on-one training with his new ‘coworkers.’ Before two years were out, he had donned his own dark suit and red tie, and he wore them proudly with the knowing smirk he’d learned from his seniors.

But when Tseng offered him the job of keeping an eye on Sephiroth, every piece of Cloud that was still a fanboy Soldier-wannabe came raging wildly to the surface. He was glad for the painful reconditioning that had given him an extra layer of protection between his internal emotions and external expression.

“Sounds boring.” He said with a slightly wider smile instead of letting himself shriek out a ‘yes please!’

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A Trained Professional

Ereri Week: Day 6 – Storm

Summary: Ode to Jurassic Park (and raptors… and ereri). Using “storm” as an excuse to write the ereri Jurassic Park AU I always wanted. Action/Adventure/Romance/RAWR. Part one of many.

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SUMMERS IN THE FINNISH SKERRIES: LIFE ABOARD THE RUSSIAN IMPERIAL YACHTS

BY GREG KING

Each June, as the northern skies over St. Petersburg were suffused with the brilliant pearls, blues, and magentas of the famous “White Nights,” the Emperor and his family regularly made a series of journeys to a series of lodges and palaces throughout the Empire. Nicholas, Alexandra and their five children would board a tender and slowly steam across the placed waters of the Gulf of Finland to Kronstadt, the island naval base which served as the semi-permanent home to the Imperial yachts.

From here, at least for the next few weeks, the Imperial Family could relax as they cruised through the Finnish Skerries, enjoying both the simple pleasures of life at sea and daily excursions to the small islands and protected compounds edged by deep pine and evergreen forests. The Imperial yachts provided the most luxurious means of travel. The Standart was the most elegant of all royal yachts ever built, and the envy of other European sovereigns.

Everything about Standart was on a massive scale. She was 420 feet in length, and weighed in at 4,334 tons. Twin screws propelled her through the water at a top speed of 22 knots, fueled by steam and coal. The private cabins used by the Imperial Family were decorated in mahogany and teak paneling, with bright English chintz papers for the walls, and chintz fabrics for the furniture and curtains. Nicholas had a small study, a dark cabin filled with his favorite green leather sofas and chairs, while Alexandra’s boudoir was finished in mauve and gray, its walls covered with family photographs and icons.

The rooms for the children all had brass bedsteads, with walls hung with English floral cretonne and chintz curtains at the portholes, and marble washbasins. Although the Dowager Empress retained use of the imperial yacht Polar Star, she had a private suite on Standart as well, with a sitting room hung with chintz, a bedroom with a brass bed, and a dressing room filled with family photographs.

Alexandra enjoyed these holidays as much as did her husband. “She had loved the sea from childhood,” recalled Baroness Buxhoeveden, “and the greatest pleasure she had was when the Imperial family were on their yacht, cruising in Finnish Waters.” Whilst Nicholas was occupied with his official duties and the children played or had lessons, Alexandra sat on deck knitting, reading or writing, or she played the piano in the Drawing Room, often singing duets with Anna Vyrubova.

The Empress,” recalled Baroness Buxhoeveden, “spent most of her day lying on a couch on deck, one of her daughters always staying with her when she did not feel well enough to go ashore. She was often joined by one or other of the officers, or by some of the Household, who at and talked to her, while she worked or drew.” Often, she spent long hours chatting with Anna Vyrubova, forming a deep bond which would last to the end of her life. “What she told me that summer seemed to relieve her mind and she was more cheerful at the ending of the cruise than at the beginning. The commander of the yacht was good enough to tell me that I had broken down the wall of ice that seemed to surround Her Majesty, and that now she could be more easily approached.” Even Alexander Mossolov, the Head of the Court Chancellery, who often found his relations with Alexandra cold and distant, recalled that while on board Standart, “The Empress herself grew gay and communicative.

Returning to the yacht, the Imperial Family gathered on deck for evening prayers at sunset. “The Empress loved the long, still days,” recalled Baroness Buxhoeveden, “the bright, moonlight nights on the water, the evening prayer of the sailors on deck before the lowering of the flag, when the last rays of the setting sun rested in the sea, on the woods, and on the escorting ships, while the deep voices of the men, singing the Lords Prayer, echoed far away into the silence.

By eleven o'clock, the lights on deck had been extinguished, and the Imperial Family had retired to their staterooms below, watching from their portholes as the sky danced with the pinks, blues and reds of the northern lights. It was a tranquil, idyllic existence, far removed from the pressures and intrigues of St. Petersburg.

Blood Slave AU with LegionSniper

legionsniper

“Take them away, I’m bored of them now.” The silver tongued vampire said as the drained humans were dragged from her study. Her vibrant green eyes pierced the darkness of the garden outside her window. “I’m tired of these, father. I was something more… challenging.” She said and turned away from the window as her father entered the room. “Colette, my dear. Nothing is a challenge for you. So finding you a challenging meal, would be something only you yourself would have to come across.” He said and put a hand on his daughter’s cheek. 

Though she looked nothing like the tall, broad-shouldered man standing in front of her. He was the one who turned her, making him as much of a father figure to her as she would get from being an orphan. “I know, father…” She sighed and leaned into his cold palm. The man just chuckled and took his hand back, walking back out of the room. “You’ll come across it eventually, my dear. For now, sleep. The sun is coming up soon.”

With that, the door shut and Colette sat on her desk, hoping and waiting for something to come to her. “Find my own challenge?”

Imagine Dean Winchester Coming Home From Hell

She stared into her black cup of coffee, watching mindlessly as the bubbles of air popped. Sam stared at book, his eyes not moving. They were both just so gone.

It’d been a year since the "incident". They didn’t talk about it. It didn’t happen. It didn’t exist. Her and Sam filled their days and nights with shitty coffee and research, trying to fill the hole that he had left a year ago.

The Impala sat dusty in the back of the yard, a tarp thrown over it, hiding it to keep from provoking painful memories. All of his stuff was still in it, his tapes, his Whiskey, his guns and knives, and his leather jacket. Of course had you asked about it, Sam and her would have either shoved you out the door or shaken their head and asked what you were talking about.

There was too much pain. Sam was reminded of his pain by the scar on his vertebrae, by the canvas jackets hanging downstairs, still drying. She was reminded of the pain by all of her old records, every damn Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Kansas, and Metallica album ruined for her. And the shirts of his that she’d stolen to sleep in. It hurt so badly that the music she used to blast now sat as dusty records in the corner of the garage, the house now silent, and she’d bought actual pajamas. 

The three of them had been unbeatable; wicked, wild, powerful hunters. But now the research drew them closer to sleep that never actually came, and the weapons sat downstairs, dusty and neglected.

At first they had tried to keep going, tried to preserve what was left of the wickedness, and the wildness, but all that was left was crushing depression and the fact that they’d never truly be whole again.

She took a sip of the coffee, cringing as she realized that it was ice cold, but made no move to heat it up. Maybe she would actually be able to fall asleep without it.

That was another thing, a lifetime insomniac, sleep had never come easily to her. Until she’d started falling asleep in his arms. Then it was like the insomnia never existed. 

But now, now sleep was something she didn’t know well. When she did manage to sleep, she had vivd nightmares of his death, or vivd dreams of him still there. She’d wake up in a fantastic mood, opening her eyes in one ignorant moment, thinking he’d still right next to her. 

Then she’d sob, and grip her sheets like it was only thing keeping her alive, and Sam would come in and hold her. He’d repeat that everything was okay, though he knew it wasn’t, that it probably wouldn’t be for a long time. 

“Y/N…Y/N? Y/N!” Sam’s voice cut through the fog like a knife, her head jolting up and knees hitting the table, spilling her coffee. She looks up at him, knees drenched in cold black coffee.

“I was going to ask if you needed anything. I’m going to go to the store, restock on some things.” He says slowly, saying each word as sharply as he can. She shakes her head, whispering a thank you.

Sam leaves quickly, leaving her alone in such a big house. She felt unsafe immediately, though her hunter instinct seemed to pick up. She grabbed the demon knife just for a sense of security.

She cleaned up the coffee, trying to keep her mind quiet, focusing on small things like the feeling of the paper towel on her fingertips. For being so exhausted, she was ridiculously hyper sensitive.

She began to whittle into the old wood, turning the handle of the knife over and over, creating the smallest of holes. She can’t help but think of him.

Those gorgeous green eyes, so vivd and vibrant. That mocking smirk, and that small wink that seemed to melt her insides. That deep baritone voice that somehow sang in tune to nearly every song that came on. God she missed him. 

Something clattered outside the door, a whispered “Fuck!” following it. That didn’t sound like Sam or Bobby, sending a wave of anxiety through her. She grabbed the shotgun from the table, holding it in her lap as she heard more steps come closer and closer to the door, a shadow appearing behind the curtains.

The clump of each step sounded like biker boots on pavement, something she knew well, but she pushed the thought back, focusing her sights on what to do with the thing behind the door and the shotgun in her lap.

Two hard raps hit the door, two shorter, quieter ones following. That was their special knock, and the man behind the door was most definitely not Sam or Bobby.

She got up cautiously, trying to stay out of line of the window. She crept towards the door, grabbing a flask of holy water and pressing the shotgun to the door.

She opened it slowly, her heart leaping into her throat and then stopping. Anger immediately bubbled up in her, releasing the safety on the shotgun and cocking it.

He was dead. Dean Winchester was dead. Dean Winchester had been dead for a year. 

“Heya, Y/N.”

She threw the holy water at him, her jaw clenched as she waited for him to howl and scream. He never sizzled though, he just snorted and wiped his face.

“What the fuck are you? What makes you think this is okay, you indecent asshole.” She snarled, shoving the thing that looked like Dean in the chest with the shotgun, not pleased when it just laughed.

It felt like her insides were on fire, actually seeing that beautiful face for the first time in 12 months, that gorgeous smile splayed across his face; it simply killed her.

He suddenly held out his forearm, taking the knife from her grasp and making a long gash across his arm. He didn’t disappear though, didn’t scream in pain. 

Suddenly the shot gun clattered to the floor, the flask falling next to it. Her arms went limp, tears immediately gathering in her eyes.

“Dean..” It came out as a whisper, tears in his own eyes as she just started at him. He smiled wide again, opening his arms wide. She ran into his chest, breathing him in deeply. 

She started sobbing, clutching his shirt in little fists, feeling his own body shudder as he cried into her neck. His arms were tight around her body, holding her to him as tightly as he could.

“How…how? Dean, we buried you.” She choked out, pulling back from him slightly to look at his face. He just shrugged, laughing breathlessly as she reached up to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

God damn he was beautiful. 

She still had tears left, trying to choke them back, only to start crying harder. Dean tugged her back against him, large hands pressed flat against her back as he rested his head on her shoulder, breathing her in.

“God, I missed you. Oh Dean.” She whispered into his neck, laughing through her tears as he kissed her cheek. 

“Y/N, get away from him.” Sam’s voice cut through their moment, grabbing her shirt and tugging him away from Dean. She grappled at him, trying to get away from Sam’s grip.

“Heya, Sammy.” Dean said calmly, only provoking Sam to push her behind him. 

“Sam, Sam! He’s clean. He’s clean, Sam. It’s Dean.” She rushed, pulling herself from his grasp. Dean showed Sam his arm, drizzling holy water over it. He didn’t sizzle.

Suddenly they seemed to be stuck together, Sam holding his brother tightly, practically squeezing the life out of him. 

After a few moments they pulled away, Dean’s eyes still watery and Sam still wound up. And then suddenly Dean’s face went to stone.

“None of you made a deal, did you? I swear to God.” Dean growls, hands clenching into fists as his green eyes turn dark, studying both her and Sam.

She burst into teary laughter again, wiping her face as she looked at Dean, shaking her head.

“No Dean, we didn’t. We didn’t make a deal.” She says slowly, realizing it was like a miracle that the handsome bad boy from Kansas was alive and in front of her, body intact.

“I’m gonna go call Bobby.” Sam said, smiling at his brother. Dean nodded, smiling at his little brother like it was going to be the last time he ever saw him.

He turned to her, taking a step and resting his hand against her cheek. He peered into her eyes, those gorgeous emerald eyes practically glowing. Then he kissed her. 

It was the most meaningful kiss she had ever experienced, getting lost in him. If she died right now, she’d die excruciatingly happy.

They didn’t separate for a few moments, but when they did he kept his hand on her face, gazing at her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him tightly to her. She reveled in the familiar feeling of his arms around her, her head falling against his collarbone.

“I love you so god damn much."