I refuse to give readers an uplifting faux experience engineered to comfort them and perpetuate the sociopolitical and economic status quo.""Who died and made you Bertolt Brecht?

I am not the heroine of this story.And I'm not trying to be cute. It's the truth. I'm diagnosed borderline and seriously fucked-up. I hold grudges. I bottle my hate until it ferments into poison, and then I get high off the fumes. I'm completely dysfunctional and that's the way I like it, so don't expect a character arc where I finally find Redemption, Growth, and Change, or learn How to Forgive Myself and Others.

So,” Lauren said. “You help ghosts with unfulfilled wishes cross over to the astral plane for judgment.”“Yes.”“And you hunt demons.”“Yes.”“And you’re married to an angel.”“Yes.”She paused. “…so basically, you’re Dean Winchester.”I made an exasperated sound. “I am NOT.”She smirked. “Yeah, sure.