#incredible show stopping never before seen im going to need this injected in my blood stream

[just-some-random-blogger]

MOTHER OF GWAYNISM IS CRAZYYY HAHHAHAH but i mean ig ur right so thank you HAHAHHAHAHAHAH

[...] he had never solicited physical contact with her, other than to subtly tilt his elbow in her direction [...]

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 MY OWN GWAYNE WHEN

From that day on, she had continued to take Gwayne's arm and his hand when he offered it to her, surprising herself, even, at how natural it felt to do so.

WHAT IF I EXPLODE WHAT THEN

“Is that so? I am most glad to hear it. We shall be quite the dashing trio then, at the opening banquet, all dressed in green.”

CHEEKY BUT SWEET LASFLKBA;LFBVJSABDF;LJBSADF;BSAFD; YOUR HONOR I WANT HIM I NEED HIM OH BABY OH BABY

Not accounting for the weight of it, she immediately dropped it, only just missing her own foot in the process.

🧍‍♀️😀 girl what the fuck. LARYS 2.0???? HELLO WHAT THE FUCK

[...] leading him to quickly grasp her elbows gently in his hands, lowering his head to examine her face for any signs of distress or injury.

GIRL DAFAQ WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT HER FACE WHEN THAT WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN WHAT WAS INJURED ok no typing this out i realize i would probably do the same thing your honor im a hater im sorry ok! its just that im so jealous THATS NOT ME 🙄🙄🙄✋✋✋

He quickly sought to make a joke of the incident which would make Y/N laugh at him, instead of berating herself. “If Lady Y/N’s quick reflexes are any indication of her skill in combat I will have to watch myself, I fear, lest she ambush me when I am unaware.”

GWAYNE COME HOME TO ME PLS PSPSPPSPSPSPSPSPSPSP

[...] she was unable to suppress the feeling of embarrassment at the potential of Gwayne knowing of it and thinking her weak.

i assure you gwayne wouldnt last a day in the asylum you were raised

“Is the lady very unwell? Is there anything we could get her that might be of any help?”

SCREAMING CRYING THROWIG UP YOUR HONOR I NEEDD HIMMMM PLEASEEE I BEGGGGGGGG

[...] and would often read to her, her head on his lap, [...]

not the be an absolute hater but i HIGHHHHLY doubt that gwayne would know of even care about his sister's period. it would be severely 'sinful' and inappropriate if not taboo. BUT YOU KNOW WHAT ILL TAKE IT.

Gwayne disliked seeing either his mother or his sister in pain and sought to alleviate their suffering in any way he could [...]

see ok ok if he was a mama's boy yeah ill take it

Please accept these humble offerings of our concern for your welfare and swift recovery, in the hopes that they will be of interest or comfort to you. I happened across a bushel of these lovely flowers and thought of you, knowing them to be your favourite, and I thought that this volume might be what you were looking for in the library.

wHAT IF THIS WAS MY LAST STRAW HES SO LASGFLKJGASFS;JFG;AKSJGAKASF;KLJASF ASFKLGASJKF; DARLING AND DEAR AND FUCK OFF I WANT HIM

I shall leave you with the image of your knight being felled by a saucepan, as I know only too well how much that would amuse you.

or else I am sure to wither away in sorrow from your absence, [...] I will only have you to blame if such is the case. With the fate of your knight at stake, please do take care.

Y/N found her heart swelling and her eyes watering the more she read of Gwayne’s letter [...]

GIRL SAME IM SO SORRY I HAVE TO MURDER YOU NOW AND TAKE YOUR PLACE THOUGH. NOTHING PERSONAL! ITS JUST THAT THIS WAS MEANT TO BE MY LIFE ANYWAY! 😀!

Delicate part.3

Gwayne Hightower x reader

Description: Gwayne chips away at Y/N's wariness towards him through his gentlessness and considerate actions. They grow closer in friendship until she falls ill, prompting Gwayne to realise Y/N's company has become essential to him.

Writer's note: dedicating this to the mother of Gwaynism and an actual icon @just-some-random-blogger and the lovely @liafiction, you gave me so many ideas with your shopping list of Gwayne traits and I have to credit you 💚. Also crediting Victoria for writing the descriptions for this fic, as she's much better at it than I am.

Gwayne is the sweetest boy in this and would definitely make a great girl dad.

Warnings: female reader, asexual reader, touch averse reader, very fluffy, mention of periods.

Having passed a week in the company of her dear friend, Alicent's brother Gwayne, Y/N was surprised at how quickly they had formed a friendship. Her first interaction with him, when he had frightened her, had made her wary of him, assuming that he would be just as coarse and forward as other knights she had been forced to interact with at Court. When he had caught her in his arms and kissed her hand, she had unceremoniously pushed him away from her, finding such physical contact to be discomfiting. She had never been able to fully explain her aversion, even to herself. She knew only that such physical displays of gallantry from other knights made her uncomfortable, knowing as she did that they were usually considered to be a prelude to courtship and marriage, something she knew she did not want. Her anxiety on this front had only increased at her father’s frequent reminders that her sole purpose as a Lady of the Court was to bind their House in marriage to another powerful House. The thought of marriage and rearing children with any of the obnoxious lords she had encountered at Court left her feeling nauseated and panicked, a feeling she knew Alicent shared with her. Before Gwayne Hightower’s arrival at King’s Landing, she and Alicent had wiled away many an hour fantasising about living in Oldtown together, far from the suffocating expectations of their fathers and the Court.

She was more than a little surprised when she quickly found herself becoming nearly as comfortable in Gwayne's presence as in Alicent's, since he had proven himself to be a true gentleman and friend. Since the day of their meeting, he had never solicited physical contact with her, other than to subtly tilt his elbow in her direction or position his palm slightly towards her after first assisting his sister from a seated position. Whilst these gestures were so subtle as to be missed by others, Y/N's heart was warmed by these chivalrous attempts to offer her his assistance without embarrassing her by forcing her to verbally refuse them. She was, additionally, pleasantly surprised at his own silence on the matter, never appearing to take offence at her quiet rejections of his assistance, only continuing to smile at her and laugh with her with a gentleness and kindness that stirred a warm feeling in her heart towards him.

It was this consistent gentleness in his manner towards both his sister and herself that led her to take his free arm on the seventh day of their acquaintance, when he came to collect her with his sister holding his other arm. It was worth pushing herself out of her comfort zone just to see the pleasantly surprised faces of both of her friends. The soft expression Gwayne directed towards her, in particular, had her feeling simultaneously elated and nervous, in a way she hadn't felt before. As the three walked happily, side-by-side, through the grounds, Y/N felt a degree of contentment she had never felt in the presence of two people.

From that day on, she had continued to take Gwayne's arm and his hand when he offered it to her, surprising herself, even, at how natural it felt to do so. She had begun to really look forward to the routine the three had established. They would walk and read together, talking of their childhoods, their hopes and dreams, creating their own world away from that of the Court. Gwayne took an interest in every mundane detail of her life, personality and hopes for the future, gazing at her with the same degree of attentiveness, no matter the topic of their conversation. He wanted to know about all of her memories from her childhood, her favourite flower, sweet, and even colour. The way his eyes shone and his mouth upturned in a self-complacent smile when she answered him that her favourite colour was green had her feeling momentarily embarrassed when she realised that he may have thought her answer calculated, given that green was the colour of his House. He quickly allayed this fear, seeming to sense from her biting her lip and looking away from him that this might be the case, as he touched her hand comfortingly, drawing her gaze back to his.

“Is that so? I am most glad to hear it. We shall be quite the dashing trio then, at the opening banquet, all dressed in green.”

As he retracted his hand from hers, Y/N realised that she missed the comfort that she derived from the feel of his hand placed lightly on hers, a feeling she had only ever experienced with her late mother and with Alicent before. She tentatively began to envision a future which included her new friend, where the three could live in the comfort of one another’s company, without the imposition of Court life.

In the afternoon, the ladies would come to show their support for Gwayne at the training yard and Y/N could not deny that she was impressed by his prowess with the sword. More than that, she was struck by his willingness to embarrass himself just to amuse his sister and herself. This, combined with his enduring politeness towards the other knights’ condescension at his youth and inexperience as a knight, displayed a strength of character she had yet to encounter in the other knights of her acquaintance. His confident manner and quick retorts to their insults frequently had both ladies struggling to repress their laughter at the confusion of the knights on the receiving end of his quips. Despite his jesting nature, he was quick to sense if Y/N herself was embarrassed and to either turn the conversation to a different end or redirect Alicent and her jests towards himself.

On one such occasion, Y/N and Alicent were standing with Gwayne in the training yard, after he had finished his training for that day, laughing at the shock of the other knights at his defeats of them that day. Continuing their jest that the ladies would have to carry Gwayne’s sword for him, Y/N playfully attempted to take his sword from his grasp. Not accounting for the weight of it, she immediately dropped it, only just missing her own foot in the process.

Gwayne’s eyes had widened in alarm when Y/N snatched his sword from him and nearly hurt herself in the process, leading him to quickly grasp her elbows gently in his hands, lowering his head to examine her face for any signs of distress or injury.

His voice coming out panicked, he frantically asked, “are you harmed, my Lady?”

Y/N felt her face begin to burn furiously with embarrassment at her behaviour, as she stepped back from Gwayne.

“I am well, I apologise.”

Hearing her stutter an apology in response to his urgent enquiry into her welfare, Gwayne was relieved that she was unharmed. However, seeing the blush blooming on her cheeks, as she directed her gaze anywhere but on him, Gwayne sought to reduce her embarrassment.

He chased her eyes with his, offering her what he hoped was a comforting smile. He wanted her to always feel comfortable around him and, whilst her jest had left him fearing for her safety, he appreciated that she had become so comfortable in his presence to attempt it.

He quickly sought to make a joke of the incident which would make Y/N laugh at him, instead of berating herself.

“If Lady Y/N’s quick reflexes are any indication of her skill in combat I will have to watch myself, I fear, lest she ambush me when I am unaware.”

He rejoiced to hear her and Alicent laugh at this, as she turned to meet his gaze. Encouraged by her response, he continued.

“I do not know how I shall manage if both of you lovely ladies determine to strike me down together, I shall be thoroughly overcome.”

As his two favourite ladies broke out into laughter, and Y/N’s eyes glittered as she looked affectionately up at him, he found himself hoping, not for the first time, that a time would come when they could always be together like this.

Y/N woke up to the familiar pain of her monthly cycle, clutching her stomach as she turned over in bed. Every month she struggled to manage the pain and nausea she experienced during her cycle, and was left with no choice but to remain in her room whilst she waited for both to pass. On such occasions she even absconded from Alicent’s company. Alicent was accustomed to these period of absence, and would allow Y/N her space whilst she recovered, sometimes sending her treats or books which she thought might please or interest her.

Y/N remained in bed well past her usual time for rising and had missed breakfast with her father, something she was not sorry for, given that they usually passed their meal in strained silence. Holding her bedsheet over her head, she did not initially hear her maid enter the room until a gentle hand pulled the sheet down.

“My Lady, I am sorry to disturb your rest but Ser Gwayne Hightower and the Lady Alicent Hightower have enquired if you will be joining them on their walk today. Would you like me to help you dress?”

A feeling of embarrassment rose in Y/N as she imagined her two friends waiting for her at the door of her apartments and she frantically rose to begin dressing, before a sharp pain in her abdomen had her falling back onto the bed. A moment passed before she was able to address her maid.

“Thank you, Lilah. Please could you inform Ser Gwayne and Lady Alicent that I am indisposed and will not be able to join them today. Please offer them my sincerest apologies and wish them a pleasant day. That will be all.”

Regretting that she would be unable to rejoin her friends, and wishing that she did not have to make such a feeble excuse, Y/N quickly sought the comfort of the covers, once again, as her maid left the room. Whilst she knew that Alicent would be aware of her condition from her excuse, she was unable to suppress the feeling of embarrassment at the potential of Gwayne knowing of it and thinking her weak. With this unpleasant thought turning in her mind, she struggled to find the repose which she so sorely needed.

Gwayne was unable to conceal the eagerness with which he looked up as a door within Lady Y/N’s apartment’s closed and he heard the tread of footsteps, looking up in anticipation of the lovely lady whose company had grown to be so essential to him so quickly over the course of the last two weeks. He was disappointed and concerned, however, when, instead of his lady, her maid reappeared to inform them that the lady in question was indisposed and would not be joining them.

Gwayne’s expression fell immediately, stricken with concern.

“Is the lady very unwell? Is there anything we could get her that might be of any help?”

Looking uneasily between Gwayne and Alicent, the maid seemed to struggle to give him an adequate response.

Seeing her flounder, and realising that she was probably trying to conceal the real reason for Y/N’s indisposition, Alicent thanked the maid, before pulling on Gwayne’s arm to lead him from Y/N’s apartments.

Turning to his sister in confusion, he was met with Alicent’s stern gaze.

“Don’t make a nuisance of yourself Gwayne, can’t you see that the poor maid was struggling to provide you with an answer.”

Reproaching himself with having made the maid uncomfortable in his concern for Y/N, he slightly lowered his head.

“I am sorry for it, but does it not concern you that Lady Y/N should be unwell. I only wondered if I might be able to procure something that might alleviate her symptoms.”

Patting her brother’s shoulder affectionately at his chivalrous nature, Alicent met his gaze.

“She will be quite well in a few days, you know that mother and I have often found ourselves similarly indisposed at certain times throughout the month.”

A look of realisation and concern passed over Gwayne’s face at this. Growing up in the company of his sister, Gwayne was no stranger to the symptoms she experienced during her monthly cycles, and would often read to her, her head on his lap, to help take her mind off them. He would bring her and their mother, when she still lived, their favourite sweets, almond cakes, and make up poultices of heated stones to ease their pain for them, after first checking that the stones were not too hot. Gwayne disliked seeing either his mother or his sister in pain and sought to alleviate their suffering in any way he could, or to at least provide a comforting shoulder to lean upon. He found his own father’s apathy towards the suffering of his wife and daughter to be a source of disgust and disbelief, and could not have anticipated Y/N being embarrassed at the thought of him being aware of the reason for her condition. His mind turned quickly now to whether he could send Y/N anything to ease her symptoms, finding that the thought of her experiencing any pain caused a pain of his own to tighten within his chest.

Turning to gaze down at his sister, Gwayne’s mouth upturned in a conspiratorial smile.

“I think that we should direct our walk towards the kitchens today, Sister. I wonder if they have any of those almond cakes you adore so much.”

Realising what he was planning, their thoughts always so in-tune with each other, Alicent tapped his cheek affectionately before entangling her arm with his, as they made their way through the lower levels of the Keep, towards the kitchens.

A knock at her chamber door at around noon, had Y/N raising her head slightly to call for the person on the other side to enter. Seeing her maid enter the room with a tray, a puzzled expression made its way onto Y/N’s face, given that her father would never normally send anything up to her on such occasions. As her maid brought the tray further towards her bed, she spotted a small bouquet of her favourite flowers, gardenias, tied together with a green ribbon, as well as a hot poultice, wrapped in a cloth, and a plate of almond cakes.

Y/N instantly recognised the ribbon to be Alicent’s, and realised that the tray must have been sent by her, especially since almond cakes happened to be both of their favourite desserts. A small, leatherbound volume on a period of history she had expressed an interest in learning more about to Gwayne, was also carefully placed underneath the bouquet on the tray, beside a note.

Thanking her maid for the tray, as she left the room, Y/N reached for the parchment first.

My Dear Lady,

Please accept these humble offerings of our concern for your welfare and swift recovery, in the hopes that they will be of interest or comfort to you. I happened across a bushel of these lovely flowers and thought of you, knowing them to be your favourite, and I thought that this volume might be what you were looking for in the library.

I do hope you enjoy the cakes. I have it on good authority, that authority being my dear sister’s, that they are a remedy to solve all ills. So insistent was she upon their effectiveness, that I am afraid I have made a poor impression of myself upon the cook, as she half chased me from her kitchens after she found me scavenging for them. I shall leave you with the image of your knight being felled by a saucepan, as I know only too well how much that would amuse you.

Please do rest well and let us know when you are better, or else I am sure to wither away in sorrow from your absence, and then I really shall not be able to lift my sword at the coming tourney. I will only have you to blame if such is the case.

With the fate of your knight at stake, please do take care.

Yours most faithfully,

Gwayne

Y/N found her heart swelling and her eyes watering the more she read of Gwayne’s letter, so grateful was she for the concern that both of her friends had for her, when she was so unaccustomed to receiving it in her own home. She could not supress a laugh at the thought of Gwayne, who was really very skilled with a sword, being felled by a saucepan, wielded by a belligerent cook.

@liafiction

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[poems-of-a-lover]

I NEED PETER AND HARRY TO KISS!!!!!! NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<3

THANK U THANK U YESLKJAGHLKSJDHGKJSHGKJSLDG THEYRE SOOOOOOO

okay. my peterharry rant for anyone interested. sorry to this poor anon but im gonna use this as an excuse to talk abt them.

peter and harry grew up together up until peter was 10 and harry was 11 ish. they were so close. when richard and mary passed, harry was right there to help peter figure it out bc peter was only, what, 8 years old? these children had to deal with such an incredible loss at such a young age. now in the tasm timeline they never say explicitly what happened to harrys mother, but in other canon she got sick and passed when harry was really young, so thats my canon. i think that mrs osborn was an incredible mother for harry, but it wasnt enough. and then she got sick and distant, and she passed, and harry pretended not to care. it was easier for him that way. then harry was sent away to boarding school when he was 11, and then he bounced around from country to country until he was 20. the only reason he came back to new york was because mr osborn was dying of retroviral hyperplasia, "the osborn curse", which harry has started to show symptoms of. also norman didnt tell harry this was genetic until he was already showing signs of having it, just gonna throw that out there. so harry comes back, his dads dead, he takes over this incredibly expensive company all on his own, and then in walks his childhood best friend that he hasnt seen in nearly ten years. and harrys scared at first, he doesnt know how to respond. peter comes and apologizes about harrys father, says he understands what its like and hes always gonna be there for whatever harry needs. he goes to leave, but harry stops him with a joke. harry jokes first, and the ice breaks. theyre right back to where they were years ago, like nothing changed. they spend the day walking around town, joking and catching up and just being together for the first time in years. then the next day, harry finally tells peter he's sick over the phone. peter goes to oscorp to check in on him, and this is when harry says that he thinks spidermans blood will cure him, bc of the self heal aspect of it. of course, peters incredibly wary, and he says that he'll try to get ahold of spiderman to help him. harry basically made him promise, because he doesnt want to end up sick and alone and dying. like his father. harrys continuously getting worse and worse but peter has other things going on, with electro out and trying to figure things out with gwen. harrys discovering secrets about oscorp but they dont like that, so hes fired. now, harry goes to team up to electro, and he basically considers peter an enemy at this point, because in his eyes peter turned him down and refused to save his life when all he had to do was get spiderman. so harry and electro team up now, so harry can get spidermans blood, then electro can do what he wants with him afterward. harry eventually figures out that they kept the venom of the spiders that turned peter into spiderman, so he has one of the staff bring him down there and inject him with it. thats whats starts the green goblin transition. theres a split second after the injection where harrys shaking stops. the pain is gone. his head is quiet. hes finally healthy. but somethings wrong. his body starts to change, he's dying at an incredibly faster pace now. his last hope is to desperately crawl to one of the suits in the room, which enables bodily regulation so hes able to function and be stable. peter finishes off his boss battle with electro while this is happening, he kills him, and hes talking to gwen about going to leave before he hears laughter and the glider engines circling above him. harry finally reveals himself, and he looks sickly. he looks incredibly ill and frail, but hes grinning wildly. peter asks him "harry...what did you do?" and harry just grins wider and replies "what you made me do. you were my friend and you betrayed me." peter claims that he was just trying to help and be the good guy, but harrys not buying it. harry says that peter pretends to give people hope, but he just takes it away, so now hes gonna take away peters. before peter can respond, harry has gwen and hes in the air, hovering for a bit before dropping into the clocktower.

peter goes after them and tries to catch her but has no luck, just hanging her with a web for now while he fights with harry. they fight before harrys knocked unconscious, and all of the cogs and dials of the clocktower fall apart. gwen falls, and peter immediately goes after her but shes too late. gwen hits the ground before peter can get to her, and she dies. now we dont see harry again until after her funeral, but hes been detained in ravencroft. he talks about building a team, which is alluded to be the sinister six team that wouldve been in the third movie if it hadnt been canceled. and im so mad that i was canceled.

[freerebelmentality]

The high cost of living

AN:  ***TRIGGER WARNING*** MENTIONS OF DRUG USE AND OVERDOSE. **  Ok may I request a Winchester brothers x sister reader where the reader is depressed harms themselves and feels like she not good enough and is a drug addict like does weed and other drugs drinks to relieve her pain and her brothers found out and are not happy it and the reader just not having it and doesn’t want help and can’t handle being lectured about her brothers so she runs away and overdoses and her brothers find her but in the end her brothers help her in recovery and it fluffy in the end And can the reader age around 16-19 is up too you i hope this is ok for u if not I can change it. Requested by @supernerdycookietrashblr ** I took out the self harm and just stuck with the rest of the request. Sorry if this got way too long but I got carried away and I just really enjoyed writing this. Ideas came and wrote those down. So I hope you all will enjoy this and enjoy reading

************************************************************************

Word Count: 2,762

On the road again, you thought while sitting in the back of the Impala.

Looking out the window, seeing the trees pass by at great speed is when you begin to feel sick.

“Dean, Dean. Pull over, Im going to be sick” you say rather quickly

With one quick stop, Dean pulls over to the side of the road and puts baby in park

“Geez, are you ok? You want some water? Mint? Mouth wash?” Sam asks as he rushes to your side.

“Mouth wash?” you reply while Sam runs back to the car and searches his bag for his mouth wash.

“Feeling a little hungover? Or just sick, sick?” Dean asks as he comes check on you as well

“A little hungover” you lie to Dean while Dean goes back to the car and reaches for a beer.

He decides something a little stronger than beer.

He pulls out his flask and walks back to your side.

Sam notices how incredibly sickly looking you’ve become and begins to worry that you are coming down with something.

You knew you were coming down from your latest high, well more like from you latest fix and you needed another. Fast.

Dean hands you the flask and you greatly take it from his hands and drink the entire thing. The whisky made things a little more tolerable.

“Thanks man, I needed that” you tell him and walk slowly back to the car.

Dean and Sam looked to you and noticed how you were walking. Like as if you were in pain and cold. The weather was warm and a beautiful day really.

“Are you sure youre feeling ok?” Dean asks as soon as he gets into the car

“Yes, step on the gas. I wanna go home already” you irritatingly reply back.

Dean didnt like that, so he did what he was told and stepped on the gas to head back to the bunker.

Finally arriving.

You get out of the car as fast as you could and into the bunker. You ran all the way to your room and found your stash hidden in your room.

You felt as though you werent moving fast enough but you made it to your room.

Dean and Sam looked at you oddly as you ran fast into the bunker.

“What the hell is wrong with her?” Dean asks as he takes the stuff from the car and into the bunker.

“Maybe she needs the bathroom again” Sam replies following Dean.

“Hmm’ is all Dean says and goes to his room to put his things away.

Once you got the needle ready, you sat on the toilet and poked the needle into your favourite vain. You pulled back the syringe to draw blood is when you injected the stuff. Slowly

Once the stuff reached your body is when you started to forget about everything else. Your withdrawals, depression, everything. Numbing out everything perfectly.

Or so you thought.

You came out of your room to look for your brothers to hang out with or just to get them to stay away from your room anyway.

“Are you feeling a lot better?” Dean asks while turning away from his cooking

“Yes, I feel a lot better” you reply way to happy but oh well you replied anyway

“Ok then” Sam says while he adds more notes to the folders in front of him

He has been adding the men of letters archives, well the both of them have been doing that and they thought you were doing the same but you dont remember a thing from your last hunt.

All you thought about was how to get your next fix or even next high. Weed wasnt cutting it anymore ever since getting into the opiates.

Stupid for getting into those. Oh well choices were made and it makes the feelings go away.

As the days go by which weeks go by as well. Dean and Sam begin to notice how incredibly bad you got while hunting, sick, and more sicker.

After the sickness, you would be at your normal self and be the great hunter they knew you to be. But when the sickness came, it was as if they didnt know who you were. Didnt look like you or anything.

“Let me know when she goes out, ok?” Dean asks Sam as he watches you walk to your room

“Uh, ok. Why?” Sam asks not really sure if he wants to know the answer but he is curious to see what Dean is up to.

“I want to look through her room, I want to see if Im right about something. If not then I am going to feel like a complete dick about it later” Dean explains himself as he looks towards the hall.

“Right about what?” Sam asks looking out for you as well

He hears you coming out of your room and walk the hallway and waits for you to appear.

“Hey guys, Im going to head out for a bit and I will be home in an hour or something” you tell them and head out the door.

You didnt give them any time to say anything cause you needed to head out and look for the number one thing you have been needing. You needed your next high. You needed it bad.

“Ok, go” Sam says to Dean as he books it to your room

“What exactly are we looking for?” Sam asks as he digs through your stuf

“Needles or drugs” Dean replies as he sees a box in the bottom of the sink in your bathroom

Dean hoped it wouldn’t be the things he is looking for. Other wise all of you weird behaviour he has noticed for the past couple years would be more understandable now.

He has seen this type of addiction before in fellow hunter friends, their addiction to opiates and how they passed to overdosing.

He opens the box and sees his worst nightmare

“Sam” is all Dean could say and drops the box

Sam rushes to Dean’s side and sees what has fallen to the floor.

All the used needles, cotton balls and spoons. Along with the rubber bands. He also sees the unopened rigs.

“No” Is all Sam can say

He doesnt understand why you would want to inject anything into yourself with poison.

They get out of your roomand wait for you to come back to the bunker.

Dean has a few words for you.

Sam has a few questions for you.

They couldnt believe their baby sister would turn to drugs

Dean is beginning to understand the border line alcoholism but he always thought it was just something to help you sleep. He didnt think it was something to settle the withdrawals.

The next morning, Dean and Sam are still seated in the library waiting for you to walk through the doors. None of them moved from their seats, they stayed seated like that and waited for you. Dean was to heated to even move from his seat.

His anger turned to worry when you never showed. Until now, his nerves settled and now all he wants to do is hug you and lock you away. But he needed to say a few things first before he can do that.

As you come walking down the stairs and see your brothers in the library looking at you all tired looking. You were about to say something when you see a familiar box. Your heart begins to race.

“Morning guys, sorry I didnt come home last night and sorry I didnt call or anything” you say to break the ice but knew you should have said nothing and should have went straight to your room

“Y/n? What the hell is this crap?” Dean asks opening the box and pushing it towards you.

Your heart begins to beat rapidly because your brother has found your dirty secret. Your life long dirty secret.

“You went through my room?” you ask not even going to lie about the box they found.

What was the whole point in lying? They found it, they figured it out and you werent going to lie about it.

It was as if you secretly hoped they would find it, maybe them finding it would finally get you to stop and go to treatment.

“Of course we went through your room. We wanted to know what was making you feel so crappy and during hunts” Sam says next, he finally finds his voice.

“You found my dirty secret. Now what?” you ask as anger begins to form.

“Why? How long? This needs to stop now” Dean replies sternly, he didnt want to get too angry. Otherwise he would have ruined the whole plan he had.

“Or else what?” What are you going to do if I dont stop?”  you ask while looking to both of your brothers

They both went quiet, they didnt want to give any ultimatums cause they feared you would pick the poison over them and they knew you are going to pick that over them.

They wondered what they did wrong to make you turn to something else to numb out everything.

Sure Dean hasnt been the poster boy about opening up his feelings about anything and he feels he should have done that with you. At least.

Sam should have pestered you more about opening up. How he does with Dean, he should have done the same for you. He didnt and he feels ashamed.

“You know, I’ll make things easier for you” you break the silence and walk down the hall and into your room

“What do you mean make things easier for us?” Sam asks as he follows you down the hall

“Where the hell do you think your going?” Dean asks next following behind Sam

You grabbed what you could and what you thought was clean. At least it was warm clothing anything, it was beginning to get a bit nippy out there.

“Im leaving. That way I wont be such a burden to either of you anymore” you reply while walking back down the hall and up the round stairs

“Y/n, no. Stay here and we will help you” Sam pleads with you as he follows

“Y/N!! Stop” Dean raises his voice

“You arent a burden. Stay, so we can figure out how to help you and let us help you” Sam continues as he looks to you.

You are at the top of the stairs and finally with one final thought. You turned the door knob and walked out.

Dean runs up the stairs and tries to block you from going any where but he is too late. He ran out the door and you were gone. He yells for your name, looks around and continues to yell for you.

Nothing, it was as if you disappeared into thin air and he wondered where you went or what direction you took.

“Son of a bitch” Dean says as he looks around with both of hands behind his head.

Tears fill his eyes as a lone tear streams down his face. He falls to his knees, feeling defeated he let this happen. Defeated he let anything go this far and didnt notice anything to begin with.

Sam comes running to him and looks around as well.

“Sam, shes gone. I couldnt catch up to her. I let her go” Dean tries to keep his emotions together. But he releases a sob

“We’ll find her, someone has to see her and security cameras are every where and one of those ust of caught her” Sam says as he helps Dean to his feet.

Months went by, Dean and Sam never stopped searching for you. Drove from town to town, Dean always tracked better when he was on the road. But his leads always went cold. You knew better to go off track cause you knew he would track you.

Finally Dean’s phone begins to ring. He takes out his phone so fast and answered it like his life depended on it. In a way it did.

Dean talks on the phone for a long period of time and Sam is getting anxious. He doesnt what is going on or who is calling.

Finally Dean gets off the phone.

“Well who was that? What did they say? Say anything about y/n?” Sam asks way too quickly

Dean couldnt understand a word he said, all due to the phone call he just got and that shocked him more.

“That was Y/n’s doctor. She was admitted yesterday and he told me that they saved her from an overdose. That its their third time saving her from the overdose. Why they never called the first couple times was because she didnt list any family members as emergency contacts. Sam we got to go. We got to get our baby sister” Dean finally says and begins running to his room to begin packing.

Sam couldnt believe those words came out of Dean’s mouth. More like he couldnt believe you wouldnt add him or Dean as your emergency contact to begin with. Until now.

They drove for hours and hours.

As they stand at your door, they see you laying on your hospital bed, IV in one hand while the nasal cannula is inserted.

Your attention is brought to the door and you couldnt believe your brothers are standing right in front of you.

“Hi” you break the silence as the greeting came out a little raspy and small

Your brothers came further into the room.

Dean is the first one who hugs you.

“Hi, I missed you” as a tear streams down his face

He hold yous a little longer, feeling as though he is going to wake up and realize its all a dream and have to wake up to a bunker without you in it.

“I missed you so much” he says as he holds onto you a little longer and tighter.

He feels as though you were going to dissolve away if he let you go. Again

“What the hell happened?” he asks taking a seat by your bed side

“I chased and ended up here” you simply answer your brother.

Well you felt ashamed by answering him

“Your face” is all Dean could say

He sees the bruises on your face, the dark circles around your eyes and how sunken in your face is. He is thinking as if he is looking at your skull.

“Ooh, I owe money to my dealer and he made an example out of my face. A few times. So to medicate, I chased the high so much, that I practically chased myself in here” you reply to your brother and look around the room

“The only way for us to get you out of here is you go to treatment and get help. Dean and I were talking along the way and thats our ultimatums” Sam says while Dean looks to him in annoyance

Dean wanted some time with you before he sent you to treatment.

“Ok, ok. I will get the help. I will go to treatment, I wanna come home” you tell them as you begin to cry.

Sam is happy and hugs you. Tears stream down his face as a sigh of relief escapes his mouth

“Thats what I want, for you to come home and go get help. We want to be there for you. We love you” Dean says as he hugs you.

He felt relieved he heard those words coming out of your mouth, as if all of his stress has been removed and now he can finally settle his nerves. Kind of.

For them it was an eternity. Dean felt as though he was in hell all over again but this time felt longer.

Sam felt like he was in the cage all over again in trying to look for you. Or he felt as though he didnt have a soul. Having you around was better and you are Sam’s other half just like Dean is his other half.

When all three of you are together, its as though everyone feels complete but when separated, thats when everything crumbles.

You felt like you are getting your family back, after being away from your brothers for so long. Well more like after running from your problems and creating more. You really felt like you are getting them back and earning their trust.

You and your brother hunted like a family again. Better than ever.

[teen-heart-throb-mr-hyde]

Why Didn’t You Stop Me - Chapter One

bro i can’t believe i actually wrote this anyways im pretty proud. if you wanna read it on ao3 it’s right here

The rain was strange that night. It came infrequently, in short tapping sounds upon the bedroom window. Despite the rain’s strange quietness, it woke Emma.

She stared at the darkened ceiling of her room, feeling her stomach rise and fall with her slow, even breathing. She sighed. Drowsily, Emma pushed herself to sit upon the edge of her bed. Her bare feet touched the cold floor as she stood and hiked up her nightgown ever so slightly with slow fingers. Each step towards her bedroom’s window was passive and delicate in an attempt to stop the floorboards from creaking, which she achieved with some success. With her other hand, she reached to open the window. The whistle of the wind and the hum of a dreaming London always helped her sleep. Moonlight made her thin fingers turn white as she reached for the window’s latch when she paused. There was no rain.

Then a small rock bounced against her window.

Having been knocked out of her tired stupor, Emma rushes to the window and threw it open. She looked down. Standing just a few feet below, rearing back to throw another pebble, was her fiancé, and love of her life, Henry Jekyll.

“Henry!” She called, trying not to laugh. “What on earth are you doing down there?”

He jumped, clearly not expecting her to appear at that particular moment.

“I needed to speak with you!” He called back up.

Emma leaned on her windowsill, her head tilted in amusement. She felt like Juliet.

“Why didn’t you just come in?”

“I needed to speak with you privately.” Henry amended his last statement. “Just…get dressed and come down.”

A sigh escaped her lips. Not of frustration or distress, one of longing. The type of sigh you can only give when the one you care about above all does something incredibly ridiculous. The kind of sigh that can only lead to the utterance of one phrase.

“I love you.”

Emma only caught a glimpse of Henry’s face lighting up in pink and red before she pulled back inside. She dressed as quickly as she could manage, throwing on a pale blouse and simple blue skirt that swept across her feet. She barely put her hair up and rather scandalously, in her mind, didn’t bother with a corset. Besides, she was just meeting Henry. She was getting married to the man in six weeks. Only after a few minutes later, she appeared outside.

When Henry saw Emma, like a beautiful apparition in the moonlight, he rushed to her and caught her in an embrace. She ran a hand across his cheek, coaxing his lips to hers. His kiss felt like the first breath of autumn. Henry pulled away, unable to pull his mouth out of a smile.

“Emma,” He said. “I need your help with my experiment.”

She giggled, slightly perplexed.

“What do you mean?” She asked. “Your proposal was rejected, you don’t have a subject.”

“I know that.” Henry took a few steps from her. “But, I do have a subject.”

Emma placed her hands together. Her stomach knotted with dread.

“Henry, you’re frightening me. What do you mean you have a subject.”

“I’m going to use myself, Emma.” He looked back at her.

That’s what she was afraid he was going to say. She padded forward, clinging onto his arm.

“You can’t be serious…” She said. She rested her head on his shoulder in a fruitless pleading gesture.

“What else am I to do?” Henry pressed his hand over hers reassuringly. He kissed her gently on the cheek. “But I can’t do it myself, I need a witness. I need you.”

It took her a long time to speak again. Emma clung to Henry’s arm, letting the cold wind of the night pass over her skin. She held his arm a little tighter and took in a sharp breath like she was ready to plunge off a cliff into a raging ocean.

“I’ll do it, Henry,” Emma said. “But why come all this way to get me? Why not just get John or Poole to do it?”

Henry turned to look at her, gently taking her hands in his.

“Emma, I’m going to be spending the rest of my life with you.” He said. “If I am to become altered in some way by this, I need you to be there.”

“Oh, my darling, I doubt you’ll change that much. You’re already perfect in my eyes.”

***

The laboratory was never a place Emma was fond of. She would never tell Henry, of course. It was frigid and not particularly well lit and the surgical tools, strange apparatuses and now-empty animal cages that decorated the relatively small room gave her the creeps. Her least favorite aspect of the room, however, was how much time Henry spent toiling away inside. It wasn’t healthy, spending hours, sometimes entire days at a time locked within its confines. Emma supported Henry’s work, no matter what anyone said about it, it was the extreme lengths he went to complete it which worried her.

Emma watched, holding Henry’s journal and a pen at the ready, as he mixed his formula. The process involved several different liquids and powders, none of which Emma knew the name of, much less how to pronounce, all to produce five centiliters of blood-red fluid. Henry raised the hypodermic syringe the formula resided in aloft. He looked back at Emma.

“It’s a thing of beauty, isn’t it?” He asked.

“It’s a bit strange to me.” She said.

“No matter,” He said as he rolled up his left sleeve. There was something frantic in his voice. “This is the moment.”

Despite his visibly shaking fingers, in one swift movement, Henry plunged the straight iron of the syringe’s needle into the vein right in between the end of his forearm and the beginning of his bicep.

“Our moment.”

He injected the formula.

A pause. The air felt so cold that it burned. A single point of black ink bled into the white paper as Emma held the pen to its surface in anticipation.

“So,” She began. “How do you feel.”

Henry stood still. Very still. More still than Emma had ever seen him in fact. His eyes searched the room as his mind searched for the right words.

“Warm. Very warm.” He finally said. “Like there’s this heat spreading through my veins.”

Emma quickly wrote his statement down. Just as she finished, Henry stumbled back, catching himself on the table.

“Henry!”

“No, no, I’m fine.” He waved his hand, smiling a very strange smile. “Just a bit lightheaded.”

Emma watched with bemusement as Henry began to laugh. He placed his head his hand, his whole body shaking ever so slightly from this sudden onslaught of glee.

“A slight feeling of euphoria.” He could barely speak the words.

Delirious laughter echoed through the laboratory. Emma quickly stepped over to the table, putting the journal and pen aside, and grabbing her fiancé by the shoulders.

“Henry? Are you alright?”

As slowly as he lifted his head, his laughter died down. Yet Henry could not remove the grin from his face.

“No noticeable behavioral differences.” He barely managed to keep the laughter down once more.

Emma smiled and sighed, removing her hands from his shoulders and retrieving the journal again. She quickly wrote down the few coherent things he had mentioned.

“Now, the die is cast.” She said, flicking out one last letter.

“I suppose it is,” Henry said, placing his hands on his waist. “We just have to wait. But I’m right.”

Emma covered her hand with her mouth and smiled. She’d got him on one of his little monologues.

“I know I am.” He continued. “But only time can prove my theory now. Prove it to all those fools who didn’t believe me.”

His breathing was ragged.

“I’ll prove it to them. I’ll show them.” He thrust his hand forward as if gesturing to some unseen audience. His smile was full of pride. “I’ll show the world I—“

Henry’s hand dropped. His whole body seemed to go limp from some shock. He stumbled again, and again caught himself against the table. But worst of all, the pride was gone, he looked terrified.

“Henry?” Emma asked, somewhere between horror and good spirits. She felt her own feet stumbling backward. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh, God... What’s this?” He barely choked out. A question to the air. His chest rose and fell at an alarming speed with each hyperventilated breath.

Emma was shaking. She clutched the journal so tightly her knuckles turned white and her nails dug into the black leather of the cover.

“Emma,” He barely stammered. “Some-Something is happening, I can’t explain it!”

Henry’s head suddenly whipped downward. He clutched his face in his hand and desperately gripped to the table with the other. Before his face disappeared, Emma could’ve sworn there was a change in it. Some horrible, near undetectable change.

She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t look away.

“There’s something inside me!” He cried out. His voice was strangled. Each word was pushed from his throat with painful effort, and each word was louder and more frantic than the last.

“Emma, it’s driving me insane—“

Henry could barely finish that last word before his voice twisted from barely coherent words to loudest, most agonized scream Emma had ever heard. Both Henry and the journal clattered to the floor. He writhed, his whole body contorting in agony with each cry of anguish. Henry’s voice itself was contorted as well. It began to rasp, seeming to drop deeper as he cried out. Emma wanted to help him. More than anything she wanted to cover her ears and scream, loud enough to drown him out. But she couldn’t. She was paralyzed. Suddenly, Emma felt her eyes playing tricks on her.

Was Henry’s body changing?

She couldn’t bear it. She couldn’t bear to look at that horrible prodigy. Tears came bursting forth from Emma’s eyes as she shielded them with her shaking arms. Her mind was completely submerged in terror.

And then it all stopped.

No more crying out, no more desperate gasps, just silence. Silence and this ever so quiet ragged, rasping breathing.

Slowly, Emma lowered her arms, only to see Henry, no, someone like Henry, standing with his back turned to her. His back was near bent, hunched over the table, as the stared into the mirror just on the opposite side. Emma gasped, tripping backward. He suddenly straightened his posture. He heard her.

With a slow, sweeping movement, his claw-like hand pointed to the journal and pen on the floor. He flicked his wrist upward, wordlessly indicating for her to pick it up. She did, frantically flipping through the pages. The pen rattled in her hand.

“Midnight…” He said. His voice was too low, too deep, too gruff to be Henry’s. He rolled back shoulders. His shoulders were broader than Henry’s, too. “And all’s well.” He added a sing-song tone to his voice.

This creature that stood before Emma and his hands through his undone hair, laughing breathlessly. Calmly, he turned to face Emma, leering and looming over her like some abominable shadow. And finally, when she saw his face, another dagger of fear was driven through her heart.

His face was some gruesome parody of her beloved’s features. Limp strands of hair cast a shadow across his sunken cheekbones, pale lips and dark, merciless eyes. He looked down at his hands, stretching his fingers and savoring the sensation before finally, to her dismay, casting his gaze upon Emma again. His eyes searched for words again, a leering smile pulled his lips.

“Free.”

And once more, laughter echoed throughout the room.