why do i even read these things i know i will hate myself for reading it afterwards


Meeting Iain and Elizabeth - My Weekend at C2E2

I don’t really know how to start this because this weekend was such an experience, and I had to the most wonderful time. I know a lot of you have been asking about my time there, so here’s a full rundown of my weekend. Most is under the cut because IT’S A LOT.

I’ll start with what you really want to hear. As most of you already know, Iain and Elizabeth were both the kindest human beings on the planet. Iain was just so nice and thoughtful, and he genuinely enjoyed meeting everyone at the con. You could just tell he was having a lovely time, which made the whole experience even better. And of course, Elizabeth was a complete angel, running a guy down to return his pen, and was completely sweet throughout the whole weekend.

Now, onto my Saturday experience!

First off, I have to thank @eclecticmuses​ for letting me follow her around like a lost puppy all day Saturday. Honestly, I had no idea where to go, so thank you for being so kind and leading the way. You were a lifesaver, and so much fun to hang with all day!

After meeting up with some of her cosplay friends, we went directly to Iain’s autograph line. We were about 15th? in line, so we didn’t have to wait that long, but let me tell you. Once Iain came out and sat down, the f-bombs were flying amongst our group bc we were losing our shit. After about a minute of everyone having a little excited panic, we calmed ourselves (as much as possible) and waited for our autographs.

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The Joker x Reader - “Note to Batsy”

From time to time The Joker likes to light up a Batsy signal and bless Gotham’s vigilante with random handwritten messages. Bruce Wayne keeps them all, hoping that one of these days he’ll find something useful that will get Mister J busted for good. So far, no luck: even if the papers have fingerprints all over, there is never a match.

Here is the latest letter Batsy just found on top of the tallest building in Gotham:


- I really wanna show you my kid; I have to admit me and Y/N made a very cute baby thanks to my awesome genes and her beauty. Maybe afterwards we can go for a drink. Wait, she’ll kill me if I go drinking and take the baby (don’t read this part, nobody can kill me). But anyway, if we end up going with the kid, don’t be a snitch and tell on me T___T

Wow, what an entitled prick! Bruce thinks, continuing to read. I am not a snitch!

- My Queen has a complaint: when she busted me out of Arkham last week, she noticed that the new straitjacket is a darker gray than the old one. Y/N said it doesn’t go well with my blue eyes, but the previous model did. I’m pretty sure I’ll end up there again so can you tell those guys to switch back to what they use to have? I don’t want my girl upset over such a trivial thing. She absolutely hates it when an outfit doesn’t match my eyes.

- I think I “accidentally” (Ha!Ha!Ha!) blew up your Batmobile today. I have a new grenade launcher I wanted to test, saw your car and Kaboom! But I think nothing happened to it; seemed alright afterwards except the two cracked windows, one flat tire and a bunch of scratches. So if you were wondering who did that, it was me. Were you inside? If you were, that was pretty cool, huh? You’re welcome.

That insane lunatic, it was him! Batsy huffs, annoyed. He had his suspicions.

- We have Commissar Gordon. I really wanted to kill him but Y/N likes him for some reason. Hold on…We had Commissar Gordon, my Kitten set him free like…5 minutes ago, she just told me. My God, do you ever have problems with your woman?! My Queen does what she pleases and she gets on my nerves sometimes. Any advice? Don’t read that, I don’t need advice from you.

- Can you be more careful when you chase us? Two nights ago we had a date and you almost ruined it. I had to take a sharp turn on 84th and Glisson St., she clenched to my arm so hard she broke a nail. A NAIL! My Doll hates breaking nails! I had to hear about it since. Can you be more considerate?! Pay attention to what you’re doing, man! If this happens again I will send my Pumpkin to you and see how you like to hear about it 24/7. Yes, this is a threat.

I don’t think you want to deal with her, she’s a tough little cookie. OMG, I love cookies and we just run out of the dark chocolate chip ones. If we meet for that drink so you can see the baby, can you bring me some? All my henchmen are away with business -see? I keep you busy, you’re welcome – and I am too important to go get that myself. And I can’t send my Princess; if she breaks another nail I’m screwed.

What the hell is he ranting about?! Bruce squints his eyes because he already forgot what the paragraph was about. He reads the last part again and sighs: Definitely needs some strong medications…

- Y/N wants to have at least 3 more kids.  AT LEAST THREE!!! Aren’t you happy there will be more like me around? I think it’s awesome - you’re welcome. I am tired from being a dad but I manage, I’m not The Joker for nothing.

- Oh, this is my request: next time I end up in Arkham I want to be in a glass cell. Why the hell did they put me behind brick walls last time?! How is everyone supposed to enjoy my handsomeness and breathtaking personality if they don’t see or hear me?! I bet the ladies were upset. Don’t tell my Queen though; she gets really jealous when other girls look my way. But how could I help it? I am just God’s gift to humanity – you’re welcome again by the way.

- I have to cut it short now, the baby’s crying and I am on dad duty at the penthouse because Y/N is breaking into Gotham Bank to steal some diamonds she wants badly. By the time you read this it should all be done with. Let me know when you wanna see my kid.

Another memorable note, Batsy concludes, folding the paper and placing it inside his belt. But I kind of want to see the baby…

Also read- MASTERLIST:


Surprisingly Sweet

Request: Could I trouble you to write a story about the reader being Stiles’ older sister who’s ina  relationship with Derek, and Stiles&Scott and the pack are always really shocked when they see the grumpy sourwolf being all adorable and cuddly? Dont stress though, youre probably overloaded with reqyests!

Tags: @the-shewxlf, @megant22, @sexywolfsfordays, @houseofrahl, @sterek-basically, @kittycatgirlmaddie, @misshinehou, @unbreakablevoices, @champagneblues, @dallysgreasergirl, @juliaspnlover, @cineyou, @lipstickstainsandwerewolfchains, @fallenangel-13x, @urwarriorangel, @bless-my-demons, @lunaskyhunter, @arkhamirwin, @fangirlnerd101, @m-a-t-91​, @meanwhilesmiley​, @edithambroreigns

Word count: 2368

Author’s note: First things first: Happy Friday the 13th, Cinnamon Rolls! :3 Also, I’m going to be including a link to my Masterpost from now on, so it’s going to be easier to find for everyone :) I also hope this imagine turned out fine, especially because the Anon who sent it in was such a considerate sweetie that I melted the first time I read the message. I really put everything I’ve got into this, exclusively for You, you adorable Anon!


I’ve always considered myself a rational being, which is why I’ve never been the type to believe in the so-called butterflies that start batting their wings viciously in your stomach whenever you see your crush – but then again, life is about being proven wrong for the sake of getting to know the truth, no matter what about, and my beliefs regarding love were shattered to pieces not long ago when I met one Derek Hale.

It all happened during the last day of school before we graduated. My best friend, Lydia and I, had plans for the afternoon before starting our heavy study sessions in the upcoming days, but out of the blue, she said it wasn’t good for her after checking a text message that she had been sent seconds ago.

After our last lesson, I walked to the parking lot with her, where she said goodbye to me before approaching a man who was leaning against his black car, hands tucked away safely into the pockets of his leather jacket, sunglasses hung in the collar of his grey V-neck shirt. The sunbeams gleamed on the hood of his car and since the burning celestial body was behind him, it highlighted his features appealingly – his sharp frame, chiselled face and his hair that was straining upwards messily in haphazard directions.

He had an overwhelming charisma to him that trapped me the second I saw him, and there went my theories about love at first sight being a hoax. There was a tingle in the pit of my stomach, an itching hotness started to churn in my lower belly, and my heart leaped into my throat as though trying to choke me. I could hardly breathe, and I didn’t realise I was holding back my breath until Lydia left me. The only thing that registered in my mind was the feeling that something was still hanging in the air – either Lydia’s words, or my sudden numbness, or feeling frazzled, or my empty thoughts – I couldn’t tell which one was it.

I couldn’t, because at that moment, nothing else existed to me besides the fact that the guy was boring his eyes into me. It didn’t matter that it was more like an unfriendly glare than anything, because it was directed at me, and it showed me that he recognised me, and nothing was more important than that. My body always responds with a shiver whenever I recall how we maintained eye contact sternly, neither of us wanting to break it like it was a competition between us, as pathetic as that sounds.

That was my first ever time meeting Derek.

The second time came around when my younger brother, Stiles, offered to take me home from my workplace, being paranoid that something might happen to me. He threw me a text just minutes before the end of my shift that something had come up, and he wasn’t coming to pick me up, so he asked Scott to do it instead. I shrugged it off and proceeded to wipe the coffee maker and counter clean, arrange the cups nicely on the shelves, then take the mop and clean the floor. I was sweaty and I was irritated with myself and the entire world by the time I finished everything, mentally cursing myself for telling Heather she could go home earlier and I’d close up the shop. All I wanted was a nice foamy bath and my bed.

With my hair dishevelled, entire being reeking of caffeine, dark circles decorating the underside of my eyes and my cheeks dusted with patches of ground coffee, I left the shop and closed the door. Scott was nowhere to be seen, so I opted to pull my book out to read while waiting, but just as I was rummaging around in my bag, a familiar vehicle rolled down the street, halting in front of me. My eyes widened to the size of a saucer. What was he doing here? Especially when I look like this?

Mortification engulfed me in a fraction of a second, and I could only pray that my cheeks weren’t getting red, albeit I could feel them heating up. I forced a smile on my lips as I did my best to refrain from yelling at Scott. I didn’t want the man to think I’m a lunatic or something for shouting with Scott for no apparent reason.

What shocked me was that both of them got out of the Camaro – Scott to greet me with a hug, whereas the man to introduce himself to me. I was thrilled that I could finally touch him skin on skin as we shook hands, and the contact sent a jolt of electricity zigzagging through my entire body, prodding and twinging my very soul.

From then on, I kept glimpsing Derek at random times, at random spots of Beacon Hills – mostly around my home and my workplace, though. He started coming to the shop in the mornings, and since he ordered the same thing for a whole week, I knew what to prepare for him by heart. He always arrived half an hour after opening, just like clockwork, and spent hours and hours there, sometimes merely sitting there, watching his environment and sipping his order, sometimes working on something, sometimes reading. And sometimes, when the traffic flattened in the shop, he came up to me to talk.

They were all light conversations, mostly small talk that I normally hate, but with him, I didn’t mind it, because we were speaking to each other. After a while, he boldly asked me about my work schedule, and since then on, he always came to pick me up when I finished at an ungodly time and it was too late for it to be safe to let me go home alone.

Then the small talks took a turn and they eventually switched to being more serious topics. The change was gradual, both of us wary and careful not to push the limits of the other and not to cross any kind of line of discretion. We started sharing more personal details about ourselves, and we realised we had a lot in common, hence more and more topics came up that we could converse about, including series, books, music and so much more.

Before we knew it, we were a couple. At first, we didn’t notice it for what it was – it was Heather to call Derek my boyfriend, and I immediately felt a spark of hotness inside me. I protested, but we kept getting similar comments and looks from our circle of friends, and so, he ended up asking me out for a real date.

I was clued in to the supernatural not long after. I had gone to his flat the previous afternoon, and I slept in his bed with him spooning me for the whole night. Turned out he’d already invited our common friends over, which I got to know when I staggered down the stairs, still rubbing my eyes drowsily, determined to make a beeline for the kitchen to ease the demanding growling of my stomach, only to find myself face to face with the others. Needless to say, I instantly blushed and wanted to turn around to make myself look more decent and presentable to them, but Derek chuckled and, with a gentle hold around my wrist, pulled me down, right into his chest so that my hands were trapped between us, resting on his chest as he hugged me.

He insisted I stayed and listened to everything they had to discuss, and so, when Stiles mentioned something supernatural for the first time, my eyebrows shot up, and I was sure they disappeared in my hairline. They calmly explained everything to me, and when I asked Derek why did he share it with me so soon, for it being quite personal, he said, ‘Because I’m afraid that if I get too attached to you and tell you about it too late and you can’t bare to stay with me afterwards, I wouldn’t be able to let you go.’

That was also the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to me, and I couldn’t help but kiss him giddily in front of everyone, still wearing my pyjamas and my ridiculous fluffy pink slippers, hair still yet to be brushed and freed from the loosened messy knot on the top of my head. I threw my arms around his neck and he returned the gesture, closing me into his embrace by placing a broad palm on the small of my back, the other combing through the stray tresses that escaped from the rubber ring overnight.

As for now, my phone is ringing with a new text message that Lydia sent me.

When are you coming? Derek is going nuts over here, and he’s more annoying than your brother.

I chuckle, knowing exactly how much Stiles can push Lydia’s patience, so I increase my momentum and hurry down the streets to the block of flats where Derek lives. Even down there, in front of the gargantuan building, I’m aware that Derek can already hear my heartbeat. As if on cue, his burly shape appears behind the huge window, and I squint to be able to see him better. I wave to him with wide motions, and he greets me, too. I couldn’t hide my zeal even if I wanted to, taking off to jog to the entrance and up the stairs, straight to his door, where he’s already waiting for me when I arrive.

Without missing a beat, he pulls me inside with a palm spread on my waist and reels me in for an impassioned kiss, which I return with ardent fervour, his plush pink flesh curling up against mine blissfully. He cups my hips and curls his fingers under my chin to keep me where I am, my fingers raking through the short spikes of his hair, elated to be welcomed by him again.

We flutter away from each other when someone clears their throat sharply. Derek reluctantly relinquishes and retreats from me, but doesn’t fail to keep his arm wrapped around me, asserting his territory to the others, ignoring they are already well aware of it. He leads me to the sofa and has me sit next to him closely so that our thighs aren’t just touching – they are plastered together. He continues to rub small circles into my skin through my cardigan as the pack meeting goes on, with Derek intermittently littering tiny kisses all over my temple and cheek, making me grin stupidly in happiness.

Noticing that Stiles, Lydia, Allison, Scott, Isaac and Malia are all watching us, I crane my neck to bury myself in the crook of Derek’s strong neck in an attempt to hide my face, giving myself the impression of a scared ostrich that’s first instinct is to dig its head in sand when something startles it. The only one to roll his eyes at our affectionate fumbling is Peter, but none of us gives him much credit. As for Derek, he tightens his hold around me and just draws me even closer to him, close enough for him to curl his other arm around me, too, holding me protectively, lovingly.

“You know, dude,” Stiles speaks up. “The first time we met I honest to God thought you were a serial killer or something. So seeing you being all cuddly and gentle is really puzzling me, you know. That’s why I was wary at first when I got to know you were dating my sister.”

“Serial killer?” Derek asks in amusement, his low voice rumbling through his chest, travelling into me through our contact. It puts me at ease, like a distant brontide.

“Yeah, with the leather jacket and mysterious attitude anyone would have thought that,” Stiles hedges, flailing his hands in a self-preserving manner. “I mean, not to be rude here, but I should have probably taken a picture. You’d understand what I’m talking about then, man.”

“I feel you,” Scott chimes in. “I was scared when you first approached us in the woods. I was thinking, ‘Oh God, this guy is probably going to kill us or eat us alive’.”

“Eat you alive?” Derek echoes, apparently tasting the words, rehearsing what it feels like on his tongue. “I’m not that intimidating.”

“Yeah, you are,” the boys oppose at the same time, making most of our team chuckle, excluding Peter, who crosses his legs and arms as he leans back on the couch, making himself comfortable. On the other hand, I nestle myself deeper into Derek’s embrace like a kitten, and my boyfriend’s instinctual response to that is to tilt his head to the side to rest his cheek against the top of my head after kissing my hair and inhaling my redolence.

“He isn’t that bad,” I offer, smiling up at him. In return, he arches a brow at me and asks me teasingly, playfully, “Oh yeah? ‘Not that bad’?”

“You know I like that about you,” I say, pulling his head down to peck the tip of his nose.

“Holy mother of God,” Stiles flails, baffled. “Who would have thought that Derek Sour Wolf Hale is capable of being adorable and affectionate? Who knew he had feelings?”

“Hey,” I chide him, smoothing my palm over the breadth of Derek’s sculpted ribcage, smattering of dark chest hair peeking out from under the collar of his Henley where it’s riding low due to my ministrations. “He isn’t a sociopath, of course he has feelings.”

“Thankfully. Just so you know,” Stiles threatens, turning to the werewolf I’m lounging on. “If you hurt her in any way, I’m going to hunt you down. I know where you live, and I have a best friend who can find you by your scent, and whose girlfriend is a huntress who knows how to hunt you down.”

Derek narrows his eyes at him, “How could you kill me?”

Stiles dismisses him with a shrug, “I have my ways.”

Derek snorts under his breath, then kisses my forehead, murmuring against it, “Don’t worry. I could never hurt her, and never will.”

Honestly, one of the things that I hate most is having to see things like “ENGLISH PLEASE I DON’T UNDERSTAND :(” or “I don’t know what you’re saying but I agree” or “HAHAHAHAHAHA” or “COME TO____” whenever members of bts (or any kpop group for that matter) posts something in Korean.

I remember when Yoongi fell ill and couldn’t perform at the HYYH concert in Kobe. Shortly afterwards, he tweeted a long sequence of messages about how he couldn’t sleep because he felt so guilty, how he used his vacation time to try to experience what the fans felt on that day, and how sorry he was to armys.   Half of the responses were things like “eng pls idk what you’re saying” and it’s just??? Do you think he has a google translate app installed in his brain or something??? It doesn’t work like that?? How can you expect someone to be able to talk about their emotions, their guilt and most suffocating thoughts in a language that they don’t even know how to speak in? It’s so unbelievably rude of you to be so lazy as to not even take the time to idk search for translations before putting your fingers on the keyboard. Yoongi was talking about something that had burdened him for a long time and was opening up to us and you just ignored it completely. Like okay, how would you feel if, say, you were going on a tangent about your stress and how hard your week was and I just barged in and yelled “KOREAN PLEASE I DON’T KNOW ENGLISH” ????? Would you be able to convey your same exact thoughts, your same exact spectrum of feelings in Korean? No, right? You’re too lazy to even attempt to look for translations, so how can I expect you to know Korean. And me just barging in on you, asking for something as unreasonable as speaking in a language you don’t know how to speak puts you in a bad mood right? It makes you feel dumb and frustrated right? How about if I were to barge in and just say “HAHAHAHAHA WHAT A FUNNY JOKE” It makes you angry, right? How I just completely ignored you talking about how stressed you were?

So stop doing the same thing to idols.

It’s honestly not that hard to wait for translations to come out before you say anything. 

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Why you shouldn't attack non-offending pedophiles

In order to protect children everywhere, you should be civil with non-offending pedophiles. Now I know that might sound really weird, but let me explain how I arrived at this conclusion years ago.

I’m sure most of you remember the glory days of Omegle. If you don’t know what that is, it’s a website where you can chat with random people completely anonymously, either one-on-one, or in response to a question posed by a third person. I, like many other shithead 13 year olds at the time, fucking loved that website. I especially loved the “answer a question” option, and would spend a lot of time on it. These questions were usually stupid, but every once in a while you’d run into a legitimately interesting question. One day, I came across just that— a question that read as follows:

“What is your deepest, darkest secret that you’ve never told anybody before? Tell that to the other stranger.”

Before I myself could answer, “stranger 2” sent his first message in response. (WARNING: If you are triggered by discussion of incest/molestation, please stop reading here. This could be very disturbing for some people.)

The stranger’s answer to the question was essentially this:

“I am 19. I still live at home. A few months ago I kissed my little sister while she was in the bathtub.”

Again, if you’ve ever been on Omegle, you know that it is riddled with trolls. Initially I assumed he was joking, but I soon realized that he was no troll, and that he was completely serious.

From here on, I’ll summarize the conversation I had with Stranger. I think we must have talked for over an hour.

I asked him how old his sister was, and he told me she was seven. I of course reacted in shock and disgust. He then expressed that he knew he probably shouldn’t have done it, and that the memory of the event had been gnawing at his conscience for weeks. I asked him if he was a pedophile and he says that he supposed he was. I firstly launched into a very long rant about why incest is risky and wrong, a point in which we disagreed, but that’s a detail for another time.

As I talked with him I learned more about his history and feelings. He said he was in love with his sister. He also told me that he was repeatedly molested when he was a child by a man who was a friend of the family. But he stressed that he wouldn’t be like that towards his sister, that he wouldn’t be cruel like his abuser was, that he wanted her to feel happy and safe and that he didn’t want to hurt her. I told him that if he ever interacted sexually with her, he would automatically be hurting her. He tried to argue with me on that point but it was obvious that subconsciously he knew it was true, but didn’t want to accept it. He told me he didn’t believe that all adult-child sexual interaction was wrong, and that he thought that kids COULD consent in certain circumstances, which was another point I argued with him about. He eventually said that his sister was already sexually curious and had engaged him in the past.

“She once asked to see my penis.” He told me. I forget if he said he showed her or not, but he emphasized that he never touched her or had her touch him in any way even then.

“It would have been so easy.” I remember him telling me. “I could’ve done it right then. I really could’ve. But I didn’t. I wanted to do it so bad but I didn’t.”

He said he thought he was “a terrible older brother.”

Throughout the conversation it became obvious that this was a person seriously teetering on the edge of “Do I do it? Or do I keep showing restraint?” And "Would it be fine? Or would it hurt her?” He was completely conflicted and at odds with himself. He didn’t know which path to take, he didn’t know what he should do.

It was at this point that I realized that I was responsible for, and would have a considerable influence on the safety of this child. The situation I faced then was not hypothetical, not one in which there was a lot of wiggle room. I knew that whatever I said to him would directly affect the safety and wellbeing of a real, living, breathing, little girl. It was stressful to say the least.

It would have been easy for me to follow my emotions and tell him he was disgusting and irredeemable, to spew the narrative at him that I see so often here in “anti” blogs and the inboxes of MAPs. The narrative I’m talking about is this one:

"All pedophiles are disgusting, inhuman, ticking time bombs who lack the ability to control themselves and are all ultimately doomed to offend.”

Now, please think with me for a second. Imagine this was what I said to him at that moment. He had never told anyone about this, so it was plausible that my input would be the only words he would hear on the subject, the only viewpoint he heard. Imagine I told him that he was “disgusting, inhuman, a ticking time bomb who is a danger no matter what.” Please, please think about the gravity and reality of this situation.

If I had said that to him, and left it at that, I believe I would have directly put that little girl in immense danger. He could have heard me say that, and decided I was right, he was inhuman, and that in the end he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself, and that eventually he was going to wind up molesting his sister no matter what.

So, his logic would follow, why try?

Why even attempt to control myself?

Why don’t I just go and act like the monster the world believes me to be?

If I’m doomed to offend, restraining myself is pointless. I’m disgusting and since I am disgusting, I might as well act on it. I’m fucked either way. Might as well get it over with.

It’s terrifying to think about.

But luckily this is not what I said to him. I, realizing that the safety of a child was on the line, responded carefully, and calculatedly. I said something like this:

“You are not a terrible older brother. You have shown you are responsible, and that you are able to restrain yourself from hurting her even when you are most tempted. I know that you love your sister very much. And if you love her that much, you need to do what is best for her no matter how painful it may be to put yourself at a safer distance. I am proud that you have been able to rise above your desires and emotions so far, even though it is so difficult for you. Because of this, I think that you’re being the best older brother you can possibly be. Please keep fighting, do it for her.”

He thanked me, we said goodbye, and then the battery to my iPod touch died. I think I must have stared into space for minutes afterwards, processing what I just experienced. I never told anybody about the conversation.

To this day, I often think about the Stranger, and his little sister, and wonder what ever happened to them after all these years. I hope from the bottom of my heart that what I said that day helped, even just a little bit. I hope that he was able to become determined not to offend, that my words gave him some sort of energy to try even just a little harder. Most of all I worry about that little girl. I hope that she wasn’t hurt. I really really hope so. I think I did what I could that day, and that I preserved the safety of a child.

Now for my conclusion. You don’t have to like pedophiles, you don’t have to sympathize with them. It is a hard thing to do, and not everybody wants to. But what you do have to be aware of is that your words can affect the real world, and the safety of real children, no matter how indirectly. Push aside your disgust and nasty gut responses and be civil with non-offending and even recovering pedophiles. NOT for THEIR sake, but for the sake of the children around them.

Pedophiles exist and will continue to exist. It is a unpleasant fact that we share the world with them. No amount of hate mail or death threats will change that, nothing you can do can make them disappear, no matter how much you may wish it to happen. That’s reality. But what you can do is influence them, whether you choose to do so negatively or positively. I hope people who read this understand the point I’m making, and understand the weight their hostile anonymous messages and harassment have. You may very well be responsible for a child’s safety, like it or not.

Please be responsible, please be mindful, and please be civil— for the sake of children everywhere.

That’s for Me to Know and You to Find Out

a/n: I have this posted on ao3, if you would rather read it there!
This is just something I wrote as an exercise, and to be honest, a lot of texting fics are really hard for me because of the use of italics and the bold to differentiate the characters. I find that terribly confusing and though I would take a much easier approach. I hope you all enjoy this cute and slightly angsty fic!

(866) 907-3235: hello

Castiel: Who is this?

(866) 907-3235: thats for me to know and you to find out(:

Castiel: Gabriel?

(866) 907-3235: no lol

Castiel: Balthazar?

(866) 907-3235: no
(866) 907-3235: the fuck kinda name is that

Castiel: I seem to be drawing a blank then.

(866) 907-3235: figured

Castiel: Who is this?

(866) 907-3235: told you
(866) 907-3235: me to know, you to find out

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Rusty Back to the Future - Dean x reader

(Vacancy open for a name giver, because I suck)

Imagine: Dean doesn’t want to admit his age, therefore, he and (Y/N) travel back to the 80s where Dean meets with himself.

Characters: Dean x reader, Sam (small cameo), Castiel (small cameo), John (mentioned), Little Dean, Baby Sam, Bobby (mentioned).

Warnings: A bit of angst, mentions of blood and open wounds.

A/N: After watching Dean struggling to jump the fence, and playing on repeat Little Me by Little Mix, I got this idea. I’m happy with how it turned out, although I almost cried writing some parts of it. Either way, I hope you enjoy it.

Originally posted by weallneedcastiel

The sirens from the police’s cars where filling the air. The three hunters were surrounded, with only one way out – said way out required jumping a fence.

Sam went first. He basically flew to the other side, no stuttering and no failed landings.

Next it was (Y/N). She climbed the fence and jumped to the other side, stumbling a little when she touched the ground but managing to stay on her feet.

Lastly, Dean. It wasn’t the first time he was jumping a fence, that’s for sure, but it also wasn’t the first time that he struggled to.

Yes, in the past he had been an expert; he could jump any fence, escape from any situation without a problem and even sneaking into hot girl’s houses for that matter. But now, after many years of not worrying about his health, his age was beginning to be a problem.

Sam had always told him so, (Y/N) too. Dean didn’t exercise except when he trained body combat with Sam, and the only healthy food he would eat were the vegetables on his burgers. He would stay hydrated only with alcoholic drink and God helped the person that suggested him to visit the doctor or take vitamins, because Dean would begin a rant (if not a fight) trying to defend his non-existing youth.

“Hurry!” Sam urged his brother, taking notice of the police’s flashlights – searching for them.

“I’m trying, Sam!” Dean roared as he finally reached the highest point in the fence.

“Jump!” (Y/N) shouted. The officers had finally seen them.

Dean jumped like he had done in the past, falling on his knees when landing. However, he didn’t have any time to complain because, before he could even groan, Sam had already got him up and dragged him into the dark and to the Impala.

Obviously, Dean asked Sam to drive.

The older Winchester was lying on the backseat of his beloved car as the huntress, who was sitting beside him, looked on her purse for any pain-killer that Dean could take. Meanwhile, Sam managed to blend in on the usual traffic from that crowded highway Dean hated so much.

“Got anything?” Dean asked with a raspy voice. He had his legs over (Y/N)’s lap, and through his jeans fabric he could see blood.

“Unless you got menstrual pain, no.” She replied, closing her bag.

“Sweetheart,” Dean called, “I’m sure this hurt like menstrual pain.”

The huntress laughed and gave him one of her pills. Dean swallowed it without thinking twice and then proceeded to look for the emergency kit he always kept in the car. He found it under the seat.

“Need any help?” (Y/N) asked, noticing how Dean was struggling to reach the kit.

“No.” He simply said; his fingertips were almost touching the box.

After ten minutes of struggling, Dean managed to reach the box (although it had been Sam stepping to fast on the brakes, causing the kit to move closer to Dean) and handed it to the huntress.

“I can’t fold your jeans far enough… I’m going to need to cut them…”

“No!” Dean cried. The huntress and Sam rolled their eyes.

“Then you’ll have to take your pants off!” She roared.

“Sweetheart, if what you want is to see me naked, you only need to ask.” Dean winked.

“Aren’t you too old for those pick-up lines?” Sam joked from the driver’s seat.

“HOW DARE YOU?” Dean shouted. Yup, he was getting defensive.

What followed is simple: Dean giving useless arguments to Sam about why he’s not old, and his perfect shape and how stupid it is to exercise when they literally run after monsters every week. As always, he stood up for his true love: fast food and alcohol.

“Dean…” Sam called once more.

“No Dean, I’m in perfect shape. The fall was just because this goddamn flannel got stuck with one of the wires of the fence. I’m not old!” Dean insisted.

“Shut up, Sam.” (Y/N) shouted seconds after Sam opened his mouth to argue. “I’m sick of you two fighting.”

“Ha!” Dean mocked his brother.

“And I’m ALSO sick of you not accepting your age!” She continued, giving Dean a glare.

“My age? There’s nothing wrong with it and…”

“And you’re no longer a twenty year old that can binge on alcohol and pull off all-nighters every night!” She cried, “You need to take care, for God’s sake!”

Dean didn’t argue anymore, he just crossed his arms and looked away.

It wasn’t his fault; I mean, who would want to grow up after twenty? Dean was on his right to be mad, or at least that’s what he thought.

He wanted to be young again. He hadn’t had a proper childhood, his teenage days sucked and his twenties had been the best out of the worst in his life: free from stupid school, having any girl he wanted, being able to do what he wanted with his body without any consequences… It was heaven on Earth.

The road trip was silent. Dean didn’t let (Y/N) cure his wounds – he was far too upset with her.

(Y/N) limited herself to caress Dean’s thigh, not quite conscious about it. Eventually, she and Dean fell asleep and didn’t move until they reached the bunker.

As obvious as it sounds, Dean didn’t let anyone take him to his room. Hell, he didn’t even let Sam help him out of the car or down the stairs. He literally swallowed his tears until he was locked inside his four-walled cave.

The blood was dry and his jeans were glued to his wound because of that. It was hard and painful to remove them and (Y/N)’s pill had only worked for a while and now he needed another one – but he was too proud to go on and ask her for more.

Once he had his pants out and a bunch of alcohol and some strange red liquid Sam had bought for these cases, Dean was able to sit down at his bed, beer in hand, and think about the past conversations.

Sam and (Y/N) where right, he was getting old. Even when he didn’t want to admit it, blame it on the pre-forty’s crisis, he had to do something. He stood up, with all the pain possible at that point, and searched between his books.

“Hey, Dorian.” Dean mumbled to himself as he took the slim book from one of the boxes on his closet.

Yes, Dean wasn’t the best thinker when it came to desperate measures. He had “The Portrait of Dorian Gray” in hand and a terrible idea in mind.

“Really?” A voice spoke. Dean looked up and to the door where (Y/N)’s small figure was staring at him.

“I thought we agreed on knocking the door first.” Dean chuckled.

“I did, but you were far too interested in Mr. Gray to notice.” She replied.

“I uh… I was just looking for a light reading…” Dean excused himself. (Y/N) didn’t buy it, she crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her eyebrow.

“A light reading about a man obsessed with his youth, enough to make a deal to stay young while his painting ages… Nice.” (Y/N) spoke.

“Fine,” Dean sighed, “you got me… I just… I don’t want to be old.”

“I know, Dean.” She whispered walking closely to Dean.

“I have wrinkles all over my face and white hairs starting to grow… I can’t run, nor jump small fences like I used to and…” Dean couldn’t finish his sentence, it hurt him to even think of the life he didn’t get, of losing time as fast as he had.

“If it works… You look hotter with wrinkles and the white hairs you talk about are barely noticeable.” (Y/N) comforted Dean, sitting beside him on the floor.

“Yeah? And what else? Those are the only good things about ageing…” Dean grumbled sadly.

“Well, your voice got deeper.” (Y/N) observed, remembering how high Dean’s used to be compared to his voice now.

“I just want to get a few years back… There is so much I didn’t do because I figured I had enough time to do it later…” Dean sighed; his eyes were watery with thoughts.

“I think we can manage that.” (Y/N) spoke.


“Don’t you love the 80s?” Asked Dean as he breathed in deeply.

“Not particularly.” (Y/N) replied, hating the clothing she had to wear to fit in.

They walked over the sidewalk Dean barely remembered, heading over to the school where a five year old Dean waited for his dad to pick him up. Dean knew that John wasn’t going to be there on time, remembering how he ended up walking back to the motel at 7 pm.

Dean was looking happy, though, which made (Y/N) happy. That until a kid punched Dean with a football and apologised to him with a “sorry, sir.”

“This is crap, we shouldn’t have come.” Dean complained afterwards.

“Dean, please.” (Y/N) begged.

“No, (Y/N)! This is bullshit! I asked a few years back for myself but not too literally travel in time and…” Dean was interrupted by someone pulling from his jacket.

A blond, green-eyed boy was staring up at him. He was wearing a flannel that was too big for him and his shoes where a little torn apart. He had sad eyes and yet he was smiling at the hunter.

“Hi.” He said.

“Hey.” Dean replied, feeling awkward around himself.

“I like your jacket.” The kid compliment, having a closer look at it.

“Thanks, it belonged to ou… my dad.” Dean explained, turning completely to be face to face with himself.

“My dad has one exactly like this one,” Little Dean observed, “except my dad’s is newer…”

“Cool.” Dean said, not knowing how to reply without spilling out the truth. (Y/N) giggled at the exchange, calling the attention of both Deans.

“Woah, is she your girlfriend?” Little Dean asked Older Dean in a whisper.

“No…” Dean answered.

“Is she your sister? Or at least a familiar?” Little Dean continued whispering.

“No, she’s my friend.” Dean explained using his children-voice.

“Are you dumb?” Little Dean asked sassily.

“Er… uh.. What?” Dean furrowed. He didn’t remember being a little bitch.

“I asked you if you’re dumb?” Little Dean repeated.

“I’m not.” Older Dean responded angrily.

“Yes you are, otherwise you’d already be dating her.” Dean’s eyes widened at his own words. He, in fact, had had a good taste in women since he was a child.

“I will ask her out, just not yet.” Dean mumbled, but the kid was far to hypnotised by (Y/N) who was trying to fix her hot pink skirt.

“Do you mind if I talk to her?” Little Dean asked without taking his eyes off of (Y/N).

“Go on,” Dean encouraged himself, “You’ll talk to her anyways.”

Thankfully, Little Dean didn’t hear the last part. He was already in front of (Y/N) complimenting her skirt and hair.

“So what’s your name, sugar plum?” The kid flirted.

“I’m (Y/N)” the huntress replied with a laugh.

“I’m Dean Winchester, pleasure to meet you.” Little Dean took the girl’s hand, pressing a soft kiss on it

“Hey, hey, hey,” Dean fumed, “hands off her.”

“She’s not your girlfriend.” Little Dean frowned, looking at the old man.

“And she’s not your girlfriend either.” Dean responded.

Sometimes, Dean would forget his age and act like a total kid. In this case, he was arguing with a kid while behaving like a kid, which was far too fun for (Y/N) to ever forget it.

“Hey, Dean.” (Y/N) spoke, interrupting the Deans’ discussion.

“Yes?” Both of them asked in unison, followed by a death glare to each other.

“I mean, Little Dean.” (Y/N) corrected herself but wasn’t able to finish her sentence because Little Dean was far too excited for having found someone with his same name.

“What’s your last name, Dean?” The kid asked with wide eyes, “Maybe we have the same one and we could be like twins from different times and…” Little Dean proceeded to create a whole conspiracy theory about aliens and time travel.

“Winchester.” Dean answered, interrupting the kid.

“I KNEW IT!” Both Deans high fived and then decided to sit down back at the bench where Little Dean had been waiting for John.

“What do you work at?” Little Dean asked.

“I’m a hunter.” Dean replied honestly.

“My dad’s a hunter too! Maybe you know him, his name is John.” The kid smiled.

“I do know him, he’s…” Dean couldn’t finish his sentence, but he didn’t have to because Little Dean understood perfectly.

“I know…” The awkward silence was soon filled by happier topics such as: Led Zeppelin, apple pie, hot girls, and monsters.

(Y/N) sat down quietly; listening to both Dean’s exchanging the same points of view and thoughts about the simple things in life as well as the most complicated ones.

“How old are you?” Little Dean asked. Older Dean swallowed uncomfortably, not wanting to talk about that.

“I’m uh… I’m thirty-seven.” Dean answered, unable to lie to himself.

“THIRTY-SEVEN?” Little Dean’s green eyes widened.

“Yes, I know… I’m o…”

“AWESOME!” Little Dean finished his own sentence, “My father says no hunter lives that long… You must be invincible!”

“I’ve died a few times…” Dean mumbled, trying to act humble but failing.

“You’ve died? AND YOU’RE BACK?” Little Dean couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It sounded like something out of a sci-fi film.

“Yes… Been to Heaven, Hell and even Purgatory.” Dean smiled proudly.

Little Dean was now standing on the bench. He couldn’t be sitting down with the stories Dean was telling him about the three after-life places he had been to.

“You are awesome, Dean!” Little Dean finally spoke, throwing his arms around Older Dean. “When I grow old, I want to be like you.”

A tear left Dean’s eye. Not only because he was his own hero, but because of the many feelings he had touched that night as well as the pain it caused him to think that Castiel would eventually erase Dean from his own memory in order to keep things in place.

“I uh… Do you want an ice cream, or something?” Dean asked, wanting to make that day as happy as possible for himself.

“I can’t, I’m waiting for my dad.” Little Dean replied.

“I talked to him and… He’s not coming, something got on the way.” (Y/N) immediately interfered, taking advantage of her silence during the whole conversation.

“Typical…” Little Dean whispered.

“So, ice cream?” Older Dean offered sadly.

Dean made sure to give Little Dean the best afternoon he could, knowing that the next months would be a pain in the ass until John met Bobby; and even so, Dean knew all about his own suffering.

They had ice cream, and Dean answered to every question Little Dean had and eventually took him back to the motel.

Dean took his time to check on Baby Sam. He was so small, so fragile; he barely remembered it now because it had been too long. But having his baby brother back in his arms was bringing many lost memories back to his mind.

“Who would’ve thought that a flea like you would end up being a giant moose?” Dean joked. The one year old baby did nothing but laugh at the stranger’s words.

“How do you know that?” Little Dean asked. He had been standing behind Dean, and he had heard everything.

“I uh… Where’s (Y/N)?” Dean asked, putting baby Sam down at his improvised crib.

“She’s praying to some Cassiel.” Little Dean answered.

“Castiel.” Dean corrected. He was hopeful that Little Dean would forget his words to Sammy, but he had always been a stubborn pain in the ass.

“How do you know Sam is going to turn into a moose?” Dean chuckled.

“Not a literal moose… He’s just going to grow up really tall.” Dean explained.

“As tall as a moose.” Little Dean inquired.

“Exactly,” Dean smiled, “Sammy will be taller than us one day.”

“How do you know?” Little Dean asked again.

Before Dean could answer, the sight of (Y/N) and Cas behind Little Dean took his thoughts away.

“It’s fine, Dean.” Cas spoke in his usual low voice, “You won’t remember.”

Little Dean was confused. A man had appeared in the room without him noticing and now the Old Dean was telling him about how he was himself but from the future.

“So we get to time travel?” Little Dean asked with widened eyes.

“Yes.” Dean answered, “We’re like Marty McFly.”


“Wait ‘till next year, next?” Little Dean shook the strange reference and continued his interrogation.

“So we have angel friends?”


“And we get to live for longer than normal hunters?”


“Tell me, do we have a cool car? Like a flying car?” Dean chuckled at his own question.

“There’s still not flying cars in the future but uh… We get to keep the Impala.”


Again, Little Dean bombarded Older Dean with questions. Except this time they were more specific.

After almost an hour of talking, the time to go came. Dean knew John would be back at any minute, and Cas still had to erase his own memory.

“I have to go, buddy.” Dean spoke softly.

“I don’t want you to go… Take me and Sam with you!” He begged.

“I can’t…” Dean let out a small tear.

“Why? We can be hunting partners and you can teach me how to drive and…”

“I can’t alter the future, buddy.” Dean explained, interrupting Little Dean’s illusions.

“So… But you already told me everything; you’ve altered the future already!” Little Dean cried.

“About that… We have to… Men in Black you.” Dean struggled to say.

“Men in Black me? What does that mean?” Little Dean asked angrily.

“You’re too young… In the future there’s a movie… Doesn’t matter, you’ll see it like thirty times.” Both Deans chuckled.

“I will remember it then, and when I see it I’ll know.” Little Dean stated proudly.

“I’m afraid not.” Dean whispered.

“You… You’re deleting my memory.” Little Dean mumbled after a few seconds of processing his own words. Dean only nodded, not being able to say it directly. “Please don’t, I want to remember you!”

“I’m sorry.” Little Dean hugged Older Dean once more. Both Deans cried in each other’s embrace, both for the same reason, yet a different point of view.

Saying goodbye to himself was harder than he expected. Little Dean used to be a real cuddle bear, a quality that Dean had lost over the years.

(Y/N) and Dean were walking out of the motel room when Little Dean called for them from the door. He was supposed to be inside, letting Cas clean his memory.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked with a smirk.

“Before I forget you… There’s something I need to do.” Little Dean explained, winking at the older version of himself.

“Go on.” Dean encouraged, not quite sure what he was going to do.

“(Y/N)” Little Dean called her.

“Yes?” She asked. The huntress had the same puzzled look on her face as Older Dean.

“Would you be my girlfriend?” Little Dean asked with the flirtiest tone ever. (Y/N) laughed and blushed fifty shades of red before answering with a “Sure!”

Little Dean high fived it with Older Dean mouthing a “you’re welcome” and going back into the room, closing the door behind him.

“You were a lovely kid.” (Y/N) observed a big smile on her face.

“I know… I almost hate myself for letting Cas wash my brain.” Dean replied.

“It was under your own consent, Dean.” (Y/N) reminded him. In fact, Little Dean had allowed Cas to do it.

“Speaking of consent…” Dean wiggled his eyebrows. (Y/N) knew too well what he meant.

“Seriously? You always find the worst situations to flirt with me.” She laughed.

“Well, you’re technically my girlfriend now,” Dean chanted, “you’ve been my girlfriend since 1984 which is far too many years to catch up on to.”

(Y/N) let out a breathy laugh as she shook her head.

“Guess I can’t help falling for the Dean Winchester charm, can I?” She joked, looking up at Dean.

“You can’t… I’m afraid you’ll have to live up with it.” Dean responded.

“Well then, let’s go back to our time to catch up on the thirty two years of dating we missed!”


“Since when are you two together?” Sam asked after catching his brother and (Y/N) making out in the kitchen.

“Since I was five.” Dean replied.

Sam, who was unaware of the whole time-travel thing, started to formulate a question but got interrupted by the huntress.

“Don’t ask, just roll with it.” She said.

“Okay.” And with that, Sam left the kitchen. He was certain that the story behind that was amusing, but he knew his brother and was far too scared to ask. Therefore, he just kept the questions for himself.

Little notice (with a lot of spoilers)

I just realised that yesterday I’ve been flooding my dash “a bit” with stuff about Rika and V. So I need to do it again today =D (srsly sorry if it was a bit too much) As you saw I’m on the unpopular opinion boat with my support for Rika and my grudge against V. I think it will be useful to make myself clear about something. I don’t think that Rika did nothing and is an angel. I don’t think that V is an evil mastermind who did the worst thing.

I’m just tired to see V pictured as a pure angel who is so perfect and did nothing or almost nothing bad (which is wrong) and how he is only a victim.
And Rika as just a bitch/snake.

Important note: snake are cute creature even if in reality I’ll be afraid of them. But still. Stop using them as an insult.

I just regret that because V is put in contrast with a character with major issues, his own issue are being reduced or even totally forgotten.

V is manipulative. Or at least I feel like he was before Rika snapped. The way he chose Jaehee resume for Jumin because she seemed desperate enough (I think he said something like “what about this one, she doesn’t seem ambitious” ). The way he totally ignore the fear of Rika with her therapist (I mean I’m no expert but if what she remember of her seance was “get over it” and “I’m actually a monster” I’m not surprised that she didn’t want to continue). The way he say that he find her pain beautiful. I mean he literally said that

Rika: I feel like you think my pain is beautiful.
V: You’re right everything about you is beautiful even the pain.

Don’t tell me you read that without feeling he was some sort of psycho??? Who say that to comfort someone. Who?
No shoot she lost her mind with someone who can think that way (even more since before meeting him she already had issues). Rika said after, that he was weird because he liked to observe, mediate( at least a good point for him, but does it matter with everything else?), and find her state fascinating. And then asked if he didn’t feel twisted too. Later V even say that as long Rika still love him she can destroy herself all she want. V has a problem and it’s not only because he lied to all his friend to protect someone who became a threat to literally anyone.
I also read recently that V knew nothing about Saeran that it’s Rika who did wrong. Just a second. Yes Rika became at this point a scary monster, she wanted a child to be drugged and used in her selfish plan. And it is horrible and unforgivable.
But another problem is that as far as I know Saeyoung counted on both V and Rika to protect Saeran. So here’s the problem: why did V just knew nothing??? He was the one who talked with Saeyoung, the one who promise to take care of him. So why he wasn’t more interest about his whereabout? Now from some chat, we can see that he guessed that something was wrong and it’s worse! He knew that his girlfriend was up to something bad but did nothing. Then he knew that his girlfriend was up to something bad with a kid by her side.

I think that V is aware of what he did wrong afterwards and he feel really guilty about it. And I think that his selfless side became overtaking after that (leading to the V we know). But. When it was obvious that the action of Rika involved more than him and her (and I’m not even mentioning the other people in the cult) he should have, I don’t know, call the autority ? or at least call the childhood friend that have access to the best doctor in the world if he wanted to still hide Rika?

V is not an angel. When we “met” him(when we end up in the RFA) he feel guilty and he is working on himself and he is trying to fix his mistake. And then proceed to failed the last. But I don’t think he is just a sweetie. In that sense, I’m really expecting his route, to understand better this character.

And I’ll be short about Rika because I must admit there’s not a lot of positive thing
(reminder: her actual parent rejected her, her new parents rejected her, she meet a lover who accept her as she is *hope :D* and then tell her that he likes to see her in pain *nope D:*. She suffers from mental illness and even if “you share [insert depression and/or anxiety and/or another problem you deduce from her actions here] with her and still didn’t start a cult” 1- as far as I know two people can have the same mental illness and be affected in different way 2- she stayed 3 weeks in therapy and I don’t think it was enough to make a diagnosis about all she suffered of. And if it is usually enough to do so: again she had a bad therapist.)

At the end of the secret ending 1, the last thing that we heard about Rika was an heartbreaking scream. Before that I was fine with a Rika being killed (at this moment I hated her like the fandom) or ending up in jail. From here you can say it’s not really an argument, but I felt like the scream that we heard was from the girl who wanted to get help, who wanted to get better and just realised she became the thing she was scared of the most.

And from this moment. She can’t talk. In the game they say she just don’t talk but she seemed to be almost entirely disconnect to reality. And people seemed to want to punish that. If she was conscious okay but she seemed to be a walking vegetable. Why do you want to put in jail someone like that? What’s the purpose? She already seemed trapped in her mind!

In the beginning of the relationship between V and Rika, actually V was the one being manipulative but then Rika started to do it too and did it worse than him. And it’s there that V became nicer (and a victim too) and Rika became a monster.

PS: If someone know how to put text under read more on mobile, I would gladly do so ^^’

                  - Part V

Kai Parker x Reader x The Mikaelsons
word count 
: 3 101
* not my gif

“I love your new place! It’s so light and open ..” said Y/N twirling as she walked around Kai’s new apartment. “WOW , is that a king size bed ?!”
Y/N turned towards Kai with a smile on her face. Kai couldn’t help but smile back at her as she grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the bed with her.  She had had a long night , trying to figure out things. Klaus believed she could and she trusted him more than anyone. By the time the sun had come up in the morning she had come to realise that she does have some feelings for Kai too. Except she didn’t know if those were ‘more than friends’ feelings or just the connection they shared.
“Grow up. You are like a little kid.” laughed Kai. “Jumping around and laughing as if it’s Christmas morning.”
Y/N punched him playfully in the shoulder , their eyes meeting for a second and there it was - the butterflies in her stomach the second she gazed into his smoky blue eyes. How it was possible that both Kai and Kol could make her feel the same way ?
“Something wrong with that ?”
“No , not at all.” he smiled. “I love that about you. Hey do you want to go get some lunch later ? Or .. are you busy with Kol ?”
“Nope. I’m free as a bird.” she said , crossing her hands and holding her thumbs together moving her fingers in the air as if they were wings. Kai laughed , getting up from the bed and pulling her up after him.
“Fantastic ! Have you had breakfast yet ?” he asked with a hopeful expression on his face. “I can make waffles or pancakes -”
“Pancakes and bacon?” grinned Y/N and Kai laughed taking her hand and heading into the kitchen. They made breakfast together - Kai flipping the chocolate chip pancakes in the air and Y/N catching them directly in the plate. Afterwards she made the bacon just like how Kai liked it - golden brown and crispy.
“Where is the - ” she started to say just as he grabbed the maple syrup from the kitchen counter. Y/N couldn’t help but smile seeing Kai drizzle the maple syrup just how she liked it - mixed with the pancakes and the bacon. “You know me so well.”  she laughed making Kai laugh too.
Kai loved her laugh , her smile. Everything. Most of all he loved their alone time.  That was when he was happiest. He listened to her talk about how Hope kept insisting they go on walks early in the morning , ending them with a quick stop at the ice cream place near the compound. Y/N’s phone rang interrupting her. Kai could see the caller ID from across the table - Kol and a picture of Y/N and Kol together hugging. She clicked ignore and continued talking to Kai as if nothing had happened. Then her phone rang again.
“Why aren’t you answering your boyfriend’s calls ?” asked Kai curious , cutting his pancakes and taking a bite. “Might be important.”
Y/N took a sip from her coffee , smiling nervously before she spoke. The night before , Kol had tried to talk to her but she had ignored him telling him to only look for her when he is ready to apologise and actually mean it this time. It hadn’t been the only reason she avoided his calls. She didn’t know what to say to him , specially since she had figured out there was some truth in his words.
“Kol doesn’t like you , doesn’t want me to spend time with you and I don’t agree with what he says.” said Y/N , taking another bite of her pancakes.
“He said that ? That he doesn’t want you to see me?” he asked , unable to shake the hint of hurt in Y/N’s voice out of his mind.
“I know you don’t like him much either and that’s why you moved out -”
“That’s not why.” he lied , reaching across the table to wipe away some melted chocolate from her lips. How was he supposed to tell her that Kol had tried to compell him to leave earlier the same day Kai had left? Y/N had told him what Originals can do - compell other vampires , so he had started taking vervain. A little amounts every day just to prevent things like this from happening but after it had happened , he hadn’t had another choice but to go along with it. Kai had already been looking for a place of his own even before that , because it was getting harder for him to watch Y/N in Kol’s arms. “I’ve always wanted to build a life on my own. I didn’t get to have that back when I was a human and then afterwards… Klaus is awesome and his family is really nice and welcoming …well , most of them , but I knew I couldn’t stay there forever.”
Y/N gazed into his eyes and knew he was hiding something but pressing on the subject wouldn’t do her any good. It might backfire and she could lose him completely. Instead an idea formed in her head. Maybe she can get Kol to like Kai if they only got some time to spend together. There had to be something they have in common other than her.
“If I ask you to do something for me , will you do it ?”
“You know there isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for you.” said Kai softly and Y/N felt a peck of guilt again. Last thing she wanted was to break his heart.
“Can you teach me your cupcake recipe ?” she asked suddenly changing her mind.
Kai grinned at her question. “Of course. Just say when and I’ll tell you my super secret recipe.”


Y/N spent the rest of the day at Elijah’s library , going through book after book. Being a vampire had its perks - she could read faster than before and she finished Wuthering Heights and started reading Mobby Dick. Her time with Kai had been perfect , though he seemed to tense every time Kol’s name came up. There had to be a way to get them to get along because she couldn’t exist without either of them anymore. Somehow both Kai and Kol had gotten under her skin and even if she tried hard , there was no way to shake them. When she got back to her room there had been flowers on her night stand and a note from Kol. 

“The beauty of those flowers is nothing compared to you. - Kol”

Later that night she walked by Kol’s room , stopping at the door her hand hanging in the air about to knock when the door had opened. He looked surprised to see her there , a wide smile spread across his face. Y/N’s gaze dropped to the ground noticing he was wearing only his boxers. Her thoughts drifted to places seeing his bare chest and his chocolate eyes gleam in the dim light.
Kol ran his fingers through his hair.
“Hello darling. Wh-what are you doing here ?” he asked with a hopeful expression. Kol hoped she might want to spend the night with him talking and cuddling together on his bed. Ever since he had compelled Kai to move out , the thought had kept him awake at night , waiting for her to show up.
“I just … I wanted to say ‘thank you’ for the flowers.” she smiled nervously. “They are really beautiful. Who told you I like white roses best ? Was it your brother?”
“No. It was Hope actually.” he said taking her hand in his. “Y/N , I know what I said the other night hurt you and it was never my intention to do so. I love you and I’d never do anything to hurt you in any way and I hate myself for what I said.” said Kol. “I got jealous because you seem to want to be around him more than you want to be around me.”
Y/N sighed. “I am his best friend , the closest to family he’s got. Kai needs me and I can’t just … ditch him and start ignoring him completely just to be with you all the time.”
Kol brushed his palm against her cheek and smiled at her. Y/N was loyal in a way his family hadn’t been to him , it was one of the reasons he had fallen in love with her in the first place.
“Do you really mean it or are you just saying that because you miss me ?” she teased him. Kol laughed.
“I mean it , love.”
“So if I suggest you , me and Kai go on a dinner together - what will you say?” she asked hopefully.
“I’d say 'yes’ because I see how much it means to you.”  
Y/N kissed him briefly on the lips and a smile spread across her face. “Great. I’ll call him and set things up… but first …” she trailed off leaning in towards him to kiss him deeply. Kol pulled her into his arms and Y/N’s mind started spinning having him this close , half naked barely an inch away from her.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too love.” said Kol. “Do you want to come in or … ?”
She smiled at him , feeling his hands slightly sliding under her shirt , his fingertips grazing her back sending jolts of electricity in her bloodstream. Her fingers tangled in his hair and she pulled him into another kiss. Kol’s hands found their way to her ass , scooping her up in his arms and he kicked the door closed. He carried her to the bed , gently letting her down on the mattress without breaking the kiss. Kol was drowning her with his kiss , his lips lighting up a fire everywhere they touched her skin. Kol’s body was pressed so firmly against hers , she could feel him getting hard against her. Y/N moaned into the kiss , rolling on top of him feeling his hands on her waist. He wanted her and she wanted him.
“W-wait.” she said rolling onto the bed next to him. “I .. We can’t … your family is in the h-house.”
Kol laughed under his breath. “It’s alright love. I don’t want to take things too fast.” he rested his hand on her lower stomach , lightly sliding under her shirt touching her bare skin.
Y/N’s breath got hitched in her throat wishing he’d move his hand a little further down. Instead Kol pulled her into his arms and not long after that fell asleep in each other’s arms.

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Vexen’s Field Notebook (Experiment 88)

((Please excuse the sketchiness, but I was really just looking to have a bit of fun and draw some adorable antics. Please enjoy!))

The intended purpose of the experiment was simply to observe and report what an individual without a heart would do when faced with affection of some variety.  The testing method was something that, in retrospect, I possibly should have reconsidered.

A friendly kiss.

The Superior was oddly gracious enough to permit the exercise. He rather grandly provided his hand, and who was I to question? I can’t help but think that there was a bit of amusement on his face though, but I cannot be the one to judge.

Apparently, Xigbar had heard that these experiments were about to occur (to my horror) and he seemed all too willing to pop up at odd moments of the day, and night to tease me.  Finally, I did end up administering the kiss and he disappeared smugly into some random portal.  The jerk. He’s always been so mean to me and I can only imagine what he’s spreading around the Organization now.

I spent far too much time wondering how to approach Xaldin. Dilan has always made me nervous, but one glare from Xaldin is enough to make my blood run cold. Either way, the answers would be inconclusive if I risked skipping over him. I finally decided to clinically, politely ask for his permission (praying that I wasn’t blushing), and to my surprise, he was more than willing to allow it! I must admit, his face is rather…scruffy and itchy. 

Lexaeus was easy to find (really, how hard is it to find the largest member?).  I hesitated to ask him, for in retrospect the entire experiment seemed a bit ludicrous.  Instead, I simply surprised him with a kiss on the cheek. His stoic face actually broke into a smile, to my absolute surprise. I rushed away after that.  I can’t begin to say why I was acting so flustered though.

Zexion was reading, as per usual.  The boy never tends to lift his head from his books, so I saw no need to distract him.  Chances were, he would have been irate if I had even tried, so I simply gave him a soft kiss on the head before walking away.  I looked back at him, but I saw no discernible reaction. I can’t begin to understand why this seems disappointing in some way

DO NOT APPROACH SAIX.  HE WILL ATTACK. TO TEST SAIX IS TO RISK BODILY HARM. (Note to self, buy more healing potions)

I was dreading having to test this particular scenario on Axel, but surprisingly enough, he was simply taken aback by it. He laughed later that he would never have even expected such a notion from me. I’ll admit myself rather relieved at that point up until I noticed him sniggering behind my back with Saix (who was still growling at me). I should have expected such backhandedness from him.

Thankfully, Demyx was more than happy to participate. He jumped at the chance to have any sort of affection, which really does baffle me because even when I did have a heart, I hated such things. Either way, he seemed to glow with happiness, which really is a refreshing change from the everyday norm.

Luxord couldn’t really be bothered with the experiment. I gave him a perfunctory kiss, and while he did seem surprised, he was more than willing to slip back into his laid back and smooth persona before I could even get a good reading on his reaction. How predictable. I simply cannot read his poker face, and even when it does slip, he covers it up fairly well.

Ugh, Marluxia. He seemed to enjoy this far too much. Between the taunts and the various suggestions on which acts I should be adding to my experiment, he seemed all too happy to tease me. He’s so terribly disrespectful! I was all too happy to be over with his kiss. Really. I wasn’t thinking about it for days afterwards. Not at all. Not even slightly.

Larxene pretty much embodies the reason as to why I’m none too fond of women (meaning ‘I’M SO VERY GAY’). Her snarky attitude was only to be expected, but her constant whining about having to come in contact with me in any way, shape or form was not something which I will soon forget.  Trust me, dear, the feelings are mutual, I assure you.

Roxas was shy on the subject. Being young as he is, I would expect no less. I gave him an innocent peck on the cheek and sent him on his way. Somehow, his attitude seemed to brighten up a bit, and it’s always quite cheerful to see the younger members smiling even though it baffles me as to why.

By the time I had reached the end of my research, I must admit myself quite exhausted by these efforts. I can’t begin to describe how draining it has been participating in such an experiment. I feel both reassured by my results, as well as horrified on a few occasions, but all in all I just feel as though my energy and patience is entirely depleted.

That was, of course, until Xion snuck over to me and planted a kiss on my cheek before smiling helpfully and retreating back to the main lounge area. I must admit, for a being without feelings, I really can’t help the bubbling sensation of what might just be pride from welling up within me.

Or perhaps that’s just indigestion.

Who knows! I’m going to go get some coffee.

you hate/love me now and i feel the same way

@bellamythology: this one’s a short and somewhat sweet fill, because i’m just getting back into the rhythm of writing these two now that i’m basically done with the semester.

for anon: “Fanfic based off the song Rock Bottom - Hailee Steinfeld”

rated: teen+
[ read on AO3 ]

They were fighting again. Honestly, it was harder to catch them not arguing, yelling being more natural to their dynamic than whispering: insults and snide remarks flying back and forth constantly, no truce or white banners to even be considered as the tension mounted between them.

“You’re such an asshole!” Clarke shrieked, a refrain so familiar it now seemed to bounce right off his (unfairly) solid chest.

“That’s rich, coming from the spoiled princess!” Bellamy would shoot back.

At some point screaming subsided into glaring, both of them trying to slow their breathing while anger and frustration and tension solidified in the space between them. Gradually the two of them would inch closer and closer together, almost unconsciously, until she shoved him against the wall or he tackled her onto the bed, hands in each other’s hair and mouths crashing together to cut themselves off before they said something they couldn’t take back.

“I hate you,” Bellamy would mutter as he slammed the door on his way out afterward, while Clarke stormed into her art studio, slamming her own door in response.

“I love you,” Bellamy would murmur when he returned a few hours later, holding out an apology bouquet or a new set of nice charcoals (or both, if it had been an especially vicious fight). After a moment, Clarke would accept the gift and let him inside, curling up against him on the sofa as he scrolled through Netflix, pausing on some feel-good romcom that he pretended he only tolerated for her.

This was their status quo, passionate break-ups and make-ups. While it wasn’t perfect, it was them, and neither of them believed in fixing something that wasn’t really broken. The right side of rock bottom, Bellamy had written on more than one note — he wrote a lot of those, sometimes left on Clarke’s bedside table for her to wake up to when he had an early morning, sometimes accompanying a just-saw-this-and-thought-of-you gift delivered to her student PO box. (In another lifetime, he could’ve been a poet, famed for epic love letters, as Clarke told him so frequently.)

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anonymous asked:

Hiii! I wanted to know what advice you have when it comes to writing twilight fanfiction with an OC? As yours seems to be very well-done which isn't always the case with other fics...Also, do you have any blogs that you can recommend that could be used as resources for writing twilight fanfiction? Thank you!!!

God I’m so sorry this took so long! I answered it partially and saved it to my drafts and totally forgot, I am the worst.

First off, thank you so much, that really means a lot :)
Okay I just posted a list of petpeeves about fanfiction, but that’s obviously just my opinion. Mostly I just watch what I dislike and like in fanfiction myself, and then I avoid/ do that, that already helps a lot!

What I think is important is that your OC is a somewhat complete person, even if none of the canon characters existed. They need family or friends, at least a reasonable amount of backstory that explains why they are who they are, a few interests or hobbies, a fear, something they dislike. Give them some aspirations too.
And the most important part is- stick with them! So many writers establish these things at the beginning, but then drop them, never to be mentioned again.
That way they appear more like an excuse or make your character seem like they’ve become extremely dependant on the canon characters. If you establish that your character goes swimming once a week and really loves that, but from chapter 3 on they never do that again, your readers will wonder a) why you mentioned it in the first place and b) think that now the canon characters are there they’re more important than everything the OC normally did before. In the end, your OC will be someone entirely else than they were at the beginning, and unless that’s something you WANT to happen, that’s kinda bad.

…Which is, by the way, exactly the problem a lot of people have with Bella.
At the beginning of Twilight SM establishes this about Bella:
- she loves Phoenix and the sun/hates Forks and rain
- her mom is her best friend and she’s very close with her.
- she’s selfless
- she dislikes being the center of attention
- she’s a bookworm
- she’s clumsy
- she’s not particularly good or bad at anything.

Now by the end of the series, none of these things are true anymore.
- Forks is her home ( because of Edward, not because she’s grown to love Forks itself)
- She has effectively cut her mother out of her life.
- ( this is not meant as judgement, just as a fact) She asks dozens of strangers to sacrifice their life for her and her family- based on decisions she made
- “I was amazing now. This was the place I shined.” Arguable, but I do think she is enjoying that. A lot.
- She reads to Renesmee, but we never see her read herself anymore.
- “That was graceful- even for a vampire”
- The Shield. The selfcontrol.

Which would be okay if those were organic changes, but the thing is, most of these things aren’t even true in Twilight? Her mom is her best friend, but she dodges her mails and is hesitant to talk to her from the beginning of the book. We see her read a book all of two times- which would be an easy fix, just have Mike come up to her and tell us she closes her book to talk to him, have Edward climb in and find her reading, let her drop her bag and let books fall out. She also isn’t that selfless? I mean the whole love triangle disaster was very selfish on her part too, cause she tried to keep both around when it clearly made all of them miserable. She adjusts to Forks as soon as she falls in love with Edward- when in reality, she might choose to stay, but still moan about the rain now and then. Her clumsiness is the only constant thing, but sadly reads as more of a plotdevice than anything else.
So SM tells us all these things about her, but doesn‘t follow through- these things never actually happen or play any role in the story. Even more- Bella ( and this is because SM intended her as a reader proxy, I do realize that) has no aspriations at all. We have NO idea what she might’ve wanted to do with her life besides becoming a vampire. Fanon puts its money on author cause she likes to read, but I can’t really see that. She has no hobbies besides reading- which she stops doing by the middle of book one.

Which is… a little wasteful, cause you can use hobbies and aspirations to tie people together.  How to you bond with people in real life? Because you share an opinon, an aspiration, a hobby, an interest.
Give your OC interests that make them stronger, that tie them to the canon characters, or that move the plot forwards. All the things you tell us about your OC need to DO something for the story- otherwise they shouldn’t be in there.

Also, take the time to actually build a relationship. Now, E/B is a teenage romance, so that is somewhat of an excuse, however, if you look at it, there’s really no reason why Bella fell for Edward except his looks. I’m talking strictly about Twilight here- up until the point she first admits to herself that she loves him, he really hasn’t shown any qualities that make him very loveable? He’s saved her life, yes, but he called her crazy afterwards, and ignored her, he was rude and ellusive. But he was also beautiful and mysterious, and that’s what has drawn her to him. By the time she says “I am irrevocably in love with him” she doesn’t even know he’s a vampire who forgoes human blood!
Obviously, as a teenager that didn’t bother me, but today it kind of makes me raise an eyebrow. This sort of thing happens a lot in fiction, actually. People proclaim “I love him! He is the best person I know!” and yet that character hasn’t really done anything remarkable at all?

So yeah, sorry this got so long and ranty. Just, give your OC’s a life apart from the canon characters and let them keep it, too. Let it influence the plot- more so, let it influence the canon characters! If you throw a new person in, your canon characters shouldn’t remain unchanged either. Keep it consistent, don’t rush relationships and instead give your characters reasons to fall in love. Tie the hobbies of your OC in to make them feel real, even if it’s just something like… paint stains under their fingernails. Even better, let it influence the way they speak! If your character likes to cook, they might say and idea is “half-cooked”, if they like music they might say, “ Her sister plays the second fiddle in that family” instead of “ she takes a back seat compared to her sister”. Get my drift?

I hope this is somewhat comprehensible and that it helps a bit. Again, sorry for the late answer!

I bet you didn’t think that by “incredibly soon” I meant about a day later, huh? Truth be told I felt kinda bad about the previous chapter because it was mostly just a filler chapter to speed the plot along and show some time passing, but this one and the next couple chapters deliver some seriously flirty vibes and drama (at least in my opinion) and the words just kept coming so I decided to seize the opportunity and post this ASAP.

I also found this chapter rather cathartic to write because I am still incorporating a lot of myself and my experiences into Rae and the story overall, so I really hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! This chapter is at about 2,994 words, which is right on track with my goal of making each mini-fic 3,000 words or less!

Wanna get caught up on the updates leading up to this one? Look no further!

Feel free to let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the tagged list and I’ll be happy to oblige! As always: each and every one of you that read my writing, like, reply, reblog, etc. are amazing people and inspire me to keep writing! :)

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Okay so here we go with Shiori’s hellevator ride, strap in kiddos because it’s a wild one.

It makes sense to me to take Shiori’s entire elevator ride as a whole. To break it up into parts would, at least per my interpretation, blur the lines between what is true and what is false and what is simply not stated in the words she speaks out loud. More than Kozue or Kanae, Shiori needs to be coaxed (first by Mikage and then by herself) to not only express her true feelings, but to face them. There’s a lot she’s working through here that I think she’s never really let herself think about in any detail before. As such, we’re gonna go line by line, frame by frame. It’s all under a cut because of length and also spoilers. There are references to future episodes under here, so I don’t recommend you read this if you’ve not seen the whole series and don’t want to be spoiled.

It’s also worth noting that I don’t think this is the only way to interpret Shiori’s elevator interview, and I will definitely admit that a key piece of evidence for my reading is a contentious one at best. So, definitely don’t take this as though I’m asserting the right or only read of this, because more than most of the characters Shiori is a fucking enigma by virtue not of her being so mysterious, but because she flails about in all of the episodes she features in, making it really, really difficult to pin her down. This is, then, only an attempt.


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Joker Imagine - Project 6277 PART 7

Originally posted by i-lost-my-puddin

Joker’s P.O.V.

Two days passed rather slowly. Y/N had been in my room most of the time and she was very quiet. I had made my henchmen get her some clothes from her apartment and she had picked out her pajamas that she had been in for two days now. She seemed very lonely and sad which bothered me. I wasn’t good with feelings and I wasn’t usually even pitying anyone so I was quite helpless. Seeing Y/N this..empty was frustrating. I had watched her for a long time and every damn night as she worked at the club she had been smiling, happy and talking with customers. Fuck.. once she stepped in between two men fighting and she separated them like it was nothing.

She was very impressive.

Now she was just quiet. It sucked because I was very excited for my plans to come true. I needed her to be happy again, to see that beautiful smile on her face. It was sick that I even cared about her, but she was different. Together we could do amazing things. Perhaps rob banks and annoy that fucker called Batman. I sighed and opened the door to my bedroom. I had just been at a meeting with Frost and my other henchmen. Now I had some time to check up on her.

She wasn’t on the bed. I looked around but she wasn’t in the bedroom. “Y/N?” I called out her name and hoped for both her and my good that she hadn’t escaped. So far she hasn’t caused trouble which was great. “Yes?” I heard her fragile voice. I didn’t see her but I heard her. I walked further into the room and noticed that she sat on the floor, leaning to the bed so I couldn’t see her from the door. I smiled as I saw her there, reading a book by herself. “Ah there you are” I chuckled and tried to study her face. Was she happy or anxious to see me?

“How did the meeting go?” She questioned me and tried to keep me happy with her. It felt like she thought she was a bother. Oh Y/N, she didn’t understand that I wanted her here. I really did. “It went great” I let her know as I sat on the edge of the bed. The curtains were open and the big windows revealed Gotham city. It was one huge city with millions of people. Our eyes couldn’t carry long enough to see the end of the city. Now it was evening and the sky was dark with a tint of orange because of all the lights.

“How do you feel?” I asked her because I needed to know. My project couldn’t go well if she felt super bad or if she had open wounds. Y/N looked at some stitches before replying. “I’m ok” I was allowed to know. That made me sigh. I got on the floor next to her and tried to stay calm. My mind was telling me to just pick her up and tear her clothes off so I could see how she was healing, but I didn’t want to do that to her. I had no idea why I wanted to treat her gently like she was a rare piece of silk or something. I had to me patient.

“Can I see ?” I asked her politely. Her pajama shorts were covering her legs just a little bit, but the worst marks were by her abdomen and inner thighs. I wasn’t even sure if she knew what that cunt had done to her. Y/N’s actions signed that she had forgotten most of it. Trauma.  ’‘Don’t worry doll I won’t hurt ya’’ I reassured her with a smile. It just made her nod a little and put the book away. She stood up and then nervously played with her hair. It was obvious that she was scared of me. I didn’t really know why. Wasn’t it obvious that I wouldn’t do her bad? Or did she think that I’d suddenly snap and kill her? Like rumours said.

Yes I was known to be a very cruel man. That was true, mostly everything they said about me. I killed without mercy. Sometimes I killed without a reason. But Y/N here was different. I already pictured her as the new Y/N. I hadn’t thought of a name so for now it’s just Project 6277. “Sit” I told her and so she sat on the bed. I had checked on her once before that she knew about it. Of course I had to take a good look when I first found her. My henchmen took her here and then my most trusted man Frost got a doctor over.

The only doctor I trusted was Dr. Harleen Quinzel. She was also a psychologist, but good for me she was talented. Quinzel had stitched Y/N up and cleaned her wounds. She also ran some tests and I was waiting for the results. She was a good friend I suppose, but only in business. She would never tell the police about this place because she knew it would cost her her life.

As Y/N was drugged so she wouldn’t be awake to feel the pain of Dr. Quinzel’s work, I wanted to see what the man had done to her. It actually made me sad. Sadness, misery, pity..all those feelings had been away from my life for such a long time. I barely remembered it, but when I saw Y/N on the bed covered in bruises and cuts, it made me feel all those weaknesses. It wasn’t fair to her. Not at all. I was so glad that I had killed the man so he could never harm her again. Although I bet Y/N could have killed him in the future when I was done with her transformation.

The worst part is that I believe this man had taken his punishment too far. She had bruises on her hips and her legs had been extremely painful. Even now she was struggling to walk well and it was sickening me. Hopefully she had forgotten all about it or else I’d find a way to bring that man back to life just to kill him again.

Y/N allowed me to lower her pajama shorts just a little so I could see her hips. The bruises were nearly black, but they had red and greenish edges. It looked bad. I sighed as I saw her wounds. Some cuts started to heal well and it looked like it would be okay. I ran my finger above the biggest cut on her waist. Her rib was broken there and I bet it hurt a lot. “You’ll heal just fine” I told her and wished that my words would be true. Then I stood up and let her pull her shorts back up. “Why are you keeping me here? Am I not bothering your work?” She dared to ask me. As I faced her I saw fear in her Y/E/C eyes.

“Oh doll I’m not gonna hurt you, don’t be scared..You see..” I sighed and then sat down again. She stared at her hands nervously. “You are my work” I smiled and I knew it made no sense to her. At least not yet. Y/N faced me with pure confusion on her pretty face. Her black eye was healing very well so I was happy about that. “That makes no sense Mr. J” She scoffed and I knew I was messing with her mind. Good.

“Oh not for you but it does to me” I chuckled and found it funny. Maybe she’d hate the process, but life afterwards would be the luxurious at it’s finest for her. She’d be so grateful. “Smile for me” I breathed out and probably confused her even more. She didn’t listen to me and it annoyed me a little, but I forced myself to keep my insanity locked away for now. The voices in my head were saying to just do it now, dump her and make her a new person now, but I couldn’t. I had to wait so it wouldn’t hurt so much. Open wounds could feel like a living hell in the process I had planned out step by step.

“Come on doll” I encouraged her. She gave in and gave me a small smile. At the club she always smiled and flashed her pearl whites. I loved her smile so much I bet it was an obsession. “Good girl” I purred and then she blushed. Y/N was one hard nut to crack, but she was perfect for Project 6277. Oh and 6277 was perfect because it happened to be one of my lucky numbers. Lucky Y/N..Lucky you.

“It must be boring to sit in here all day” I changed the subject. Y/N stayed quiet and waited for me to continue. “Frost!” I yelled loudly so he could hear me from here. A couple seconds later the door opened and I saw Frost. “Yes boss?” He asked me with his serious voice. “Why don’t you get Y/N a pretty dress and make someone get the car ready?” I smiled widely at him. I had a room full of clothes for women and men. Why? They were expensive like all the other things me and my trusted henchmen had robbed. They weren’t as useless as some thought. Now the dresses would come in handy.

“We’re going on a ride” I let her know and flashed my grillz to her. “If you want to, you can get ready. Although a pretty face like yours doesn’t have to have anything extra on it” I flirted with her. Y/N seemed a little nervous, but at least she was trying to be okay with me. “I’ll do that then” She let me know and stood up. I watched as she walked to the bag with her stuff we got from her apartment. She walked a little strangely, but even that got better. “Good. I’ll be back” I promised and then walked out of the room.

My penthouse was beautiful. It didn’t have too many windows, but the windows I had were big and placed perfectly. I had many rooms for different situations. One of them was a meeting room, but I had more business floors downstairs. I had a big living room, guest rooms, bathrooms, a big and lovely kitchen, a secret room I rarely used and much more. And who said a criminal’s life was bad? I loved my life like this and soon I hopefully had someone to be my extra insanity in crime. Well in other words partner whether we’d stay friends or not.

But she was so sad.

It made me sad and I hated it. So instead of just waiting and doing nothing, I grabbed my phone and sat on the big black couch I had. Then I went on google and googled 'how to make a girl happy’. Why? Because I had no fucking clue. I clicked on the first link and then I started to read. It didn’t take long until I read something that didn’t sound too stupid. Maybe something would help? I wanted her to be happy since after the surprise she’d be pretty much stuck with me.


anonymous asked:

You are tho, you are selling your fan fiction. I hope the fandom doesn't follow your example because it's frankly disgusting. Get a job. I'm not paying your stuff, because you're not an "artist".

So everybody, I wasn’t going to bother with an anon who clearly didn’t read anything and is just looking to lash out with hate at anything that scares them.

But I wanted you all to take a look at their message.

  • We’ve already well established that NO ONE is selling fanfiction.
  • We’ve already well established that this is about getting advance access to chapters before they hit Ao3 as usual, IF someone is interested in doing so, as an aside to access to original, non-fandom work written by myself.

If you’ve followed this blog from its early days, you’ll know I’m one of the fastest people to turn around and say you can’t sell fanfiction, considering its history. So why would I contradict myself? Because again, what’s being offered is a sort of ‘expedited shipping’, and along with the option to also have access to my own original short stories, it’s just a fast-track to fic chapters that will always, always be posted to Ao3 a day or two afterwards anyway.

But I want you guys to look at the language this anon is using- writers looking to support their main craft (short stories/screenplays) through a side craft (fics), just as visual artists do (selling fan art to support their efforts on original pieces and personal marketing), are “disgusting” and writers are “not artists”.

“Writers are not artists” this anon says.

This person doesn’t think we deserve to appeal to a section of our audience who might want our work faster, not even selling said work, and offer them a way to do so.

This anon thinks that writing isn’t a job. They think we don’t spend hours upon hours agonizing over what we write, deleting and reworking and deleting again, sending chunks of writings to friends and fellow writers asking for their cherished opinions and advice on what they think of it and how to make things better. They think we don’t practice like mad and read voraciously to get better at what we do- what do you think prompts, drabbles, and the rest of those things are ultimately for?

Our blood, sweat, tears and dedication to spend time creating work isn’t worth anything because it isn’t “visual” and the status quo says we don’t deserve anything for it, according to this anon.

The very idea that it could be disgusts them.

I want you guys to look at what we’re up against, the kind of vitriol writers who also write for fandom face when they open up and say, “Hey, I also do other stuff, and I also offer a cool thing where I can hook you up with advance copies of fic chapters through a service like Patreon before they come out if you want as well.”

People like this anon are happy to take advantage of your work and read to their heart’s content, but they’ll be damned if you expect them to hold it in the same esteem as other forms of fan work.

We have to stand up against this kind of attitude. 

anonymous asked:

You should do one where Nathan and reader had an argument and you storm off then Nathan texts and tells you to cut class and come to his and stay with him and do stuff.. .. because he feels bad and loves you ? Idek just an idea :) x


(What a wonderful idea, my baby Prescott! I hope you do not mind I altered it only by 1%! Enjoy!)

Fandom- ℓιfє ιѕ ѕтяαиgє

Character(s)- Nathan Prescott

Words- 2,220

Request: Reader and Nathan get into a heated argument, the reader storms off and Nathan texts the reader with an apology


Warnings- Language, Yelling, Violence, Abuse, Blood


“I’m sick of it Nathan!” You scream out, glaring at the male as you two stood in his dorm room, the projector paused with a few photos Nathan had taken to show you. 

“What the fuck are you sick of, (Y/n)!?” He snapped out with a growl and you sighed, clearly frustrated.

“I’ve asked you several times to please throw away your gun! You never do, and I’ve asked nicely to stop hanging out with Mr. Jefferson so much! I hardly ever get to see you, Nathan!” You begin to rub your temples, a throbbing pain starting to hit them. 

That was Nathan’s turn to scoff at you. “You’re such a nosy bitch! There ain’t nothing wrong with me having my gun! What if somebody decides to fucking jump me?! I need something to protect myself! You saw how that fucking Gayram attacked me!” He pointed at his face, still a few bruises and faint scars remained on him from when Warren flipped a switch and attacked.

“You started it by getting up in Max’s face!” You state, stomping your foot slightly, getting sick of this little childish act..

“Max deserved it! She was snooping in m room! Plus, Mr. Jefferson works for my dad. So when I’m at Blackwell, I need to talk with him for my dad! You just don’t fucking understand!” He yelled louder and by now, you were sure the other guys in the dorm room could hear you two arguing. But this must be normal…you two have been fighting for a few weeks now, ever since you noticed how Nathan’s attitude had changed..

You two could never just agree on something, it was either him being right or you. Something had switched in Nathan that had started the fights, he got more possessive of you, more angry when you wouldn’t pay attention to him when you two were watching movies and he would want to take pictures constantly..

“If he works for your dad, you could just tell your dad to take a fucking break from his sooo busy schedule and text the fucking guy! I mean, for fuck’s sake, he’s a fucking photographer! His pictures aren’t even that good! I don’t even know why your dad hired him!” You growl out, crossing your arms over your chest as your anger raised with each minute.

That’s when it happened.

Your eyes were wide as your head was facing to the side and your cheek was burning and you could feel something wet and warm start to go dribble down to your chin. Your hand slowly went to your cheek and you pulled your fingers away, seeing crimson covering the tips of them. You then looked at Nathan, his rings had blood on them and his eyes held a cold stare, like he didn’t even regret it..

“Fuck you, Nathan. Fuck. You.” You spat out, hate dripping off the words as your forcefully shoved him out of your way, walking out of his room to see a few of the guys poking their heads out from their dorms and the minute they all saw you, they quickly went back into their rooms. You scoffed and stormed out, slamming each door on your way out.

The next day.

Morning came way too soon as you sat up from your bed, your cheek throbbing which made you hiss and close your eyes tightly. His rings were sharp..How could he even hit you and not feel guilty afterwards? Well…fuck him. You got up from your bed and began to get ready for your first class of the day.

Now, Nathan on the other hand, he didn’t sleep that night as he could only remember the sound his hand made when it came in contact with your face, how his ring caused a scar, how your blood painted his ring as if it were a canvas…a horrible, disgusting canvas. But what you said about Mr. Jefferson…Nathan took it too personally and you were just pushing buttons..

When morning came for the Prescott, he looked next to him on his bed, expecting to see your naked back facing him, to have your soft quiet snores fill his ears with hope and feeling of..peace. Upon getting none of those things, it damaged his heart and he bit his bottom lip slightly as he pulled out his phone, staring at your contact picture, it had both him and you in the picture, your lips were on his cheek and he had a small smile on his face int he picture.

That’s when the tears started to form in his eyes. He didn’t want to hurt you in any shape or form. It was an accident, wasn’t it?

You had put a bandage on your cheek to where the cut was, a bruise was also there, but you couldn’t cover that no matter how much you tried, so you just shrugged it off as you began walking to Blackwell. Your first class was ironically, Mr. Jefferson’s photography class. Nathan had told you to join that class and never exactly gave a reason, but you believed him and took it.

Despite you hating Mr. Jefferson’s style, you enjoyed the class. He would make jokes a lot, but also be serious and it just made you happy and feel pretty safe in his class. Plus, you were learning new angles of photography, contrasts, monochrome, etc. So it turned out okay in your end. You felt your phone vibrate in our pocket, causing you to stop in the building and pull out your phone.

{ Text - From: Nate 7:58am }

hey cn we talk? im rly sry abt wat hapend. skip clas + com 2 my room right now pleese

You sighed at the text, eyeing it carefully and making sure you read it. He wasn’t sorry, he’s never sorry.. You don’t respond back, instead, you turn around and leave the building, heading towards the boys dormitories.Why were you even going back? Maybe to see if he really was sorry, when you already knew the answer. 

You reached the boys dorm and walked down the hall, taking a left and stopping at Nathan’s door. You sighed heavily before bringing your hand up and knocked on the door. It was silent until the door opened, revealing the Prescott who took a step to the side, allowing you to walk in.

He closed the door once you were inside and turned around to face you. His eyes locked onto the bandage on your cheek. And that’s when you saw it, the guilt on his face, in his eyes. 

He took a step forward. “Nathan, stop.” You warn, but he took another step, his eyes now locked onto yours. “I’m serious, Nathan.” You speak louder, but he continued to walk towards you until he was right in front of you. Then his arms found their place around you as he pulled you close to his chest and you felt him shake, his breath hitting your neck as he sobbed silently, making your skin wet from the tears.

You could feel your chest tighten slightly and you sighed heavily, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in his hair, smelling the faint scent of cigarettes and weed. You could feel his heart beating quickly as he sobbed into you.

“I’m sorry, so fucking sorry…I didn’t mean to..” His voice cracked as he begged for forgiveness and it broke you as you rubbed his back soothingly, feeling him pull you closer till there was no room between you two.

“I know..” You whisper in his ear to calm him down, whether that was the truth or not, you had to calm him down. “C’mon, let’s sit down on the couch.” You say to him gently and he nodded slowly as you pulled away from him slightly, sitting on the black sofa, with him right next to you.

Nathan looked at you with a frown, underneath his eyes were red from crying and he reached out, grabbing your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. He liked how your hands fit into his, how he could feel your heartbeat whenever he held your hand, or knowing that you were here, right now.. with him.

You looked down at his hand in yours, you’d be lying if you said you disliked this. Your eyes then looked at Nathan, seeing he was now gazing at your face, you felt your cheeks heat up and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

Carefully, Nathan reach out to your face with his free hand and gently took the bandage off, seeing how the cut he made was slowly healing, there was a weird look in his eyes that you just couldn’t make out. Nathan slowly leaned in and you winced in pain as his lips made contact with the bruised and damaged skin you owned. 

You said nothing to object, though. His lips then slowly started moving down to your chin, your jaw and then your neck. You remained silent the whole time, squeezing his hand every second or so.. 

Your voice caused him to stop as you finally spoke up after a few minutes. “Nate?” You asked softly, using his nickname, his lips remained on your neck and he hummed in response. 

“I’m sorry I flipped out on you over the gun..” You begin and you feel him tense up, but you continued. “I just worry about you and want to keep you safe. I won’t always be here to protect you, to keep you calm..” You whispered to him and felt him shake slightly as his rough skinned hand squeezed your soft one tightly.

Nathan slowly pulled away from your neck and stared at you, remaining silent and just gazed into your eyes. Almost as if he was trying to detect something from you and he remained this way for a couple of minutes before he rolled his eyes and got up from the sofa.

“Can you model for me?” He asked and you raised an eyebrow.

“You start to give my neck all this attention and now you want me to model for you?” You asked with a small giggled. Oh, that giggle warmed Nathan up so much more than you thought. It proved that you were here, you were alive, you were breathing the same air as him.

He didn’t even bother answering as he grabbed his Fuji X-T1 camera model and pointed towards the floor. You sighed and smiled at him as you got up from the sofa and sat down where he had pointed.

“Lay down.” He stated more the offered, looking at the camera before looking at you, squinting his eyes to get a good image.

“Alrighty.” You sigh out and lay down on your back, looking up at the ceiling, seeing a little bit of Nathan in the corner of you eye as he grabbed a lamp, turning the light on and facing it on you. It was nice to now Nathan had more electricity to light up the dark room he spent most of his time in. You didn’t argue when Nathan began moving your arms and legs into certain positions.

“Close your eyes.” His voice was soft and you nodded, letting your eyes be consumed in darkness behind your eyelids, you could hear his feat shuffling around, and felt him moving you around slightly to get in a better position you assumed.

Upon hearing a clicking sound and the flash lighting up some darkness despite your eyelids protecting your eyes, you could hear Nathan let out a breath. You then felt an extra body lay next to you, lifting your head up slightly and allowing an arm to have your head lay against, you opened your eyes slightly to see Nathan’s face, his eyes were closed and he looked so…peaceful, he was so close that your noses were touching, you looked to the side and noticed the camera now on a tripod.

You smiled and closed your eyes again, allowing your nose to be against his in a loving manner. Hearing another click and seeing faint flashes, you yawned slightly and opened your eyes, seeing Nathan was already up, looking at the camera. 

He noticed you yawned. “Are you tired?” He asked, not even looking at you and you shrugged.

“A little bit. I’m gonna crash on your bed if we’re done taking pictures.” You said with a smile, getting up to your feet. You mean, sure you were still pretty upset with him hitting you, but…Nathan seemed a lot more calmer now and you now knew where to not over-step your bounds.

“Go ahead. I’m going to look over these some more and I’ll join you.” He said while going to the couch and you went to his bed, quickly going under the blanket and snuggling into the pillow.

Nathan glanced up from the camera after a while, seeing how you were sleeping soundly and he smiled before looking at the pictures with a sigh.

Now he had to get these printed out immediately and give them to him. It was the only way he could keep you safe, despite the disgusted feeling in his gut, having to give that man his pictures of you…but Nathan wouldn’t let you go..

Missing over his mistake..

Not Again

Draco Malfoy X Reader: Cheated

Summary: The reader breaks up with Draco because he cheated on her with Pansy.


Word Count:1580

Tag List: @waytooinlovewithdeanwinchester, @waytooinlovewithfandoms

Originally posted by legendrarrymalfoy

(Y/n)’s feet felt like led as she walked up the stairs to meet her soon to be ex boyfriend Draco Malfoy. She loved Draco with all of her heart, but she had to break it off with him because he had cheated on her with Pansy Parkinson. She saw Draco standing outside the slytherin common room. He smiled when he saw (Y/n). Before she could say anything to him he walked over and kissed her passionately. When he pulled away (Y/n) looked down almost in tears. Draco tilted her face back up so he could see her. His grey eyes searched her (e/c) eyes for why she looked so sad.
“What’s wrong love?”
“What do you mean what’s wrong? You cheated on me Draco!”
“Wait what?”
“Don’t deny it you cheated on me!”
“I’m so sorry (Y/n)”
“Were done Malfoy” Hurt flashed through his eyes when (Y/n) called him by his last name again.
(Y/n)’s heart shattered. She had hoped it would be just like the stories where the guy turned out to be innocent and they lived happily ever after but this wasn’t the case. (Y/n) turned to leave. Draco caught her arm.
“Can I explain myself?”
“I don’t think I want to hear it Malfoy”
(Y/n) walked away, leaving Draco near tears. She went to the library and sat down. She was a slytherin but she wasn’t mean like the others. She was friends with everybody. She grabbed a random book and sat down to read. She didn’t care what the book was about, she just wanted to get her mind off Draco. She eventually got pulled into the book and didn’t hear somebody walk up next to her.
She looked up and sighed with relief when she saw that it was just Hermione. Hermione looked concerned.
“Hi Hermione”
“I heard you broke up with Draco”
“Yeah… He cheated on me with Pansy”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that”
“It’s okay. I guess it wasn’t meant to be”
“I don’t know (Y/n) you seemed good together.”
“Did I do something wrong? Was I not good enough?”
“No (Y/n) I think you were too good for him, you brought out the good in him, you made him stop calling me mudblood and you made him stop beating up first years. If anything you were too good for him than not good enough”
“Thanks Hermione”
“No problem, you were always there to cheer me up so I will definently be there when you are sad (Y/n)”
“Hey how is it going with you and Ron?”
“Yeah, I know you fancy him”
“Oh… There isn’t anything special between us, right now we are just friends even though I want to be more.”
“I’m sure if you talk to him you would see that he wants to be more than just friends too”
“Yes. Now go! Shoo! Talk to him”
“Okay ,okay”
Hermione left and (Y/n) went back to reading her book. She stayed in the library for a few hours longer, then went back to her dorm. When everyone went to diner (Y/n) turned into her pillow and cried. She didn’t eat anymore, she still went to class and got good grades. She tried to look better than ever so that maybe she would be good enough for somebody. Draco saw her changing and didn’t like it one bit. He still loved her, so naturally he tried to get her to understand that he didn’t want Pansy and that she had thrown herself on him and that he only wanted (Y/n) but she wouldn’t listen. Then Draco decided to work it out with her no matter what. So when they were partnered up together in potions Draco made their potion explode so that they would have to do it again after class. They stayed after class to start over again.
“(Y/n) you know I blew up the potion on purpose right?”
“Yes, I know you wouldn’t make a mistake like that Malfoy”
“Yeah, the reason is that I wanted to talk to you is because I want to go out with you again”
“I thought you an Pansy were going at it”
“No! I hate her, she isn’t the one for me. You are”
(Y/n) looked at Draco and saw that he was telling the truth. She didn’t want to get hurt again.
“I’m sorry Draco but I don’t think I want to date you again”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to feel like I did”
“You know what?”
“Pansy was trying to break us up because she thought it was going to make me go out with her”
“Well her plan worked”
“Not exactly”
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t go out with her, when you left I went up to my room and cried not caring who saw, and then you didn’t come to dinner I just assumed you were crying too”
“I was”
“(Y/n) why don’t you eat anymore? That is really bad for you”
“I wanted to lose weight”
“Why? You are perfect the way you are”
“I thought I wasn’t good enough so I decided to change”
“Why did you think that you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen”
“Better than Pansy?”
“Way better”
“Okay Draco, I will give us another shot, but promise me something”
“Can you make sure Pansy knows you love me?”
“Of course”
They finished their potion and went to dinner. Pansy looked up, her face became angry when she saw Draco with (Y/n).
“Why are you here (Y/n)?”
Before (Y/n) could say anything Draco spoke up.
“She is here because we are back together. So she isn’t up in her room crying at meal times”
“But you guys were finished. Draco you did cheat on her, with me”
“No I didn’t cheat because you forced yourself on me and I couldn’t do anything about it”
“Oh but Draco you did enjoy our kiss, you smiled afterward”
(Y/n) didn’t want to hear anymore. She got up and ran from the dining hall. She heard Draco call after her but she didn’t stop. She ran into an empty classroom, fell to the ground and cried. A few minuets later the door opened and Draco entered. (Y/n) looked at him, he looked so guilty and angry when he saw (Y/n) in tears. He knelt down next to her and pulled her into a hug. She cried into his shoulder. He whispered sweet things in her ears. When she stopped crying she looked up at him.
“Was she telling the truth Draco?”
“Pansy? No of course I didn’t enjoy the kiss. The only person I want to kiss and enjoy kissing is you. I love you and only want you.”
“Are you sure you want me? I mean I’m not like her, I’m not mean to the first years. I’m friends with pretty much everyone, including Gryffindor.”
“The reason that I like you is because you are nice, you bring out the best in people, they trust you”
They sat in a silence for a while. Draco kissed (Y/n) before they got up and went to the common room.
“Tomorrow we will go on a date okay?”
“Okay, were are we going?”
“It’s going to be a secret”
“Awww, come on Draco”
“It is going to be no fun if  I spoil the secret (Y/n)”
“What are you talking about Draco?”
“I’m not going to ruin the surprise (Y/n)”
“Okay Draco keep your secrets. And I’ll keep mine”
“Aww (Y/n) now I’m dying to know”
“That’s too bad Draco. Goodnight”
“Goodnight love”
They both went to their dorms. The next morning (Y/n) found a not from Draco on her door. It read
Dear (Y/n),
Meet me at our tree by the lake, I have a surprise for you.
(Y/n) made her way to the lake and stood by the tree mentioned. She jumped when she felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Draco.
“Do you trust me (Y/n)?”
“Okay, I’m going to put this blindfold on you”
Draco put the blindfold on (Y/n). They walked for a little then the blindfold was taken off. Before her (Y/n) saw a variety of food. She looked at Draco questionably.
“Draco what is this?”
“Well I know you haven’t been eating lately so I made you some food”
“That’s very sweet of you”
“I would do anything for you love”
“Thank you Draco”
They sat down to eat. (Y/n) still didn’t eat very much. Draco looked worried.
“Are you feeling okay love?”
“Yes I’m fine, it’s just that since I didn’t eat for so long my stomach shrank a little bit so I can’t eat very much”
“Does not eating make you tired too? You seem to be tired all the time now”
“Yes, but now that we are back together I don’t need to keep not eating”
“Why do you change so much for me?”
“I could ask you the same thing”
“Well like I said earlier I would do anything for you”
“Will you hold me then?”
“Of course! Have I ever said no to that?”
“I’ll always be there to hold you (Y/n). Just like I will always be there to make you happy when you are sad”
“Thank you Draco”
“No problem. Love? Promise me something?”
“Never leave me again”
“Draco I promise that I will never leave you again, I love you too much”
“I love you too”

Unusual Pt. 10

Summary: The Winchesters found her in Crowley’s supernatural prison guarded by a dozen of demons. Keeping her as leverage without even knowing she’s the big key everyone is looking for.

Autor: deanwinchester-af

Pairings: Dean x OFC (Eventually) 

Characters: Dean Winchester, Katherine Pierce, Sam Winchester.

Words: 900+

Warnings: None.

A/N: Things are about to get really interesting from now on. One of my favorite story lines of this story is gonna take curse from now and I hope you guys love it as much as I do. Any questions, options, wish list for next parts just let me know. I love reading those type of things. Feedback is always appreciate it. ♥

Parts: 00, 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09


Title: Purgatory

*One Year Ago*

“There has to be a way to bring her back!” Dean snapped.  

The older Winchester browsed around the thousands of books in Bobby’s library. Guilt over clouded his thoughts of letting Katherine split through his hands. A big arm turned him, his younger brother Sam glaring at him.

“You have to calm down!” Sam’s voice deep.

Dean shook his head, “I can’t, I have to help her.”

“There’s no way you can help her”

“You don’t know that,” Dean turned, continuing his search for a way to bring her back.

Once again, Sam spin him around. “She’s dead Dean!”

Dean slam the book he was holding across the room, “YOU DON’T KNOW THAT.”

“She’s a monster, Dean!” Sam yelled back.

Dean sighed deeply, pushing his brother out of the way and strolling outside. He needed time alone to cope with the fact that Katherine was gone. She said herself, there was more probability of her dying than her going back to Purgatory. Dean hated the feeling of guilt that was overcoming him. He wanted to be heartless and hate Katherine even though there wasn’t a nerve on his body that actually hated her.

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