#boxes full of casette tapes

[martybaker]

hob gadling having a huge collection of vinyls because some songs only sound right when played on a record player

[beybeys-world]

UPDATES FOR THOSE WHO READ MY CONTENT!

HULLO!! So i already posted more stuff about requests but here is another confirmation post. Im lacking motivation to finish requests at the moment. I JUST GET BRAIN FOGGLED!! I hate to disappoint and keep those who requested waiting but, I would like to write when im held with more motivation so that the writes come out better and more enjoyable! Dont get me wrong I am still writing (im always writing) but I might publish some ideas of my own! So if your waiting on a request, its gonna take a bit, especially since there are multiple!  When I have bursts of energy I write for my requests! But I will try my best to do ATLEAST 2 writes per week. But i cant thank you all enough for the love and support for my reads! Seeing all your comments really warms my heart! Another update, I ADDED JONATHON BYERS TO MY LIST!!! I HOPE TO WRITE FOR HIM IN THE FUTURE! Im hoping you guys can be patient with me! But until they are published here are some sneak peaks on what im workin on (PLEASE COMMENT WHICH ONE I SHOULD FINISH FIRST)

10 Things I hate About You

Pairing: Steve x Reader

(requested) 

A heavily inspired fic by the amazing movie 10 Things I hate About You

The bruised boy

Pairing: Billy x POC reader (she/her)

(Requested)

Y/N plays hard to get with Billy, which only ignites a flame within Billy to keep annoying you. Which you shoot him down everytime. One day it changes after a tough night with Neil, y/n notices and wants to help.

My Prize Baby

Pairing: Billy X Sarcastic Reader

(Request: Happy Billy with him takin care of Max)

After asking for a ride to the arcade Max is surprised that you convince Billy to not only drive her, but come along too! Max gains a liking to you once you “help” her win the arcade games for prizes! Billy enjoys seeing the both of you connect

Those Godamn Russians

Pairing: Steve x Girlfriend Reader

(MADE THIS IDEA MYSELF)

Y/N being the getaway driver for when they are all undeground trying to run away from the russians, she is shocked to see Dustin with a VERY intoxicated Steve. Sadly your bumped to sit in the back with him (after constant pleading) And hes just all over you.

Blabber Boy

Pairing: soft Eddie x GF reader.

(MADE THIS IDEA MYSELF)

Almost breaking a bone trying to get to your window, Eddie sneaks into your room one night while your painting your nails. When offered Eddie mindlessly agrees but does NOT know how to stay still when the polish is drying. Making too many hand motions while ranting about dnd or whatever, you decide to hold him down, which ignites a VERY VERY flustered quiet Eddie.

Why so blue Billy?

Pairing: Billy x Partner Reader

(MADE THIS MYSELF)

Y/N just overall comforting Billy when he breaks down about Neil. 

Sharp Turn

Pairing: Billy x Streetracer crush

(MADE THIS MYSELF)

After seeing y/n at a stoplight with her flashy street car, Billy is determined to get to know you. The boy is just headover heels for the racer and she is not goin down all that easy.

Joy Ride

Pairing: Billy x Streetracer gf

(MADE THIS MYSELF)

(a alternate where the reader isnt playing so hard to get) Y/N is neighbors with Billy and wants him to cheer up so she takes him for a ride driving god knows how fast in the middle of the night blasting music.

Music Magnet

Pairing: Steve x crush who works at a music store.

(MADE THIS MYSELF)

While robin is pickin up some new casette tapes, Steve realizes how long shes taking. He walks in to be swept off his feet by the amazing y/n working register. Steve does not know much abt the music you listen to but he tries his best (even if he is lying) to impress you with his “wicked” music taste.

Drumstick Doll

Pairing: Steve x firecracker drummer gf

(MADE THIS MYYSELF)

Steve comes to all of your shows and supports all your angry drummer antics! He adores the reader.

Lets Dance Pretty Boy

Pairing: Billy x Girlfriend

(requested)

Reader taking aux to bump music at full volume while driving around with Billy. (I havent decided a song yet so request any ideas you have in my request box and  i’ll pick my favorite.)

The infamous hearthrob, eddie

Pairing: Eddie x Popular Gf reader

(requested)

Y/N knows lots of people but Eddie was truly a gem. She never understood why he was so judged, afterall she thought very highly of him. Reader tries to hype up Eddie about how awesome he is.

PLEASE HELP ME PICK WHICH ONE I SHOULD PUBLISH NEXT!! COMMENT DOWN BELOW! MAKE SURE TO KEEP UP WITH MY MASTERLIST TO SEE THIS FICS BE POSTED! AND IF ANY AMAZING REQUESTS HAVE SPARKED WHILE READING THIS, HERE IS MY REQUEST BOX AND PLEASE READ MY REQUEST GUIDELINES BEFORE REQUESTING! THANK YOU FOR READING THIS!! HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY OR NIGHT!!<33

-Ahzy

[penname-artist]

Character aesthetics appeal to me so I made...whatever this is, lol

Dusty:

Sunset over a still pond and the sound of crickets and bullfrogs, big cattails and reeds sticking up out of the water

Bits of loose straw and hay dust against the bed of an old pickup truck, maybe a leather saddle that's been there for many years

A desk full of important papers, with noticable sprinkles of joy where there are doodles of houses and stick figures in the corners of the pages

A beer bottle and old country music playing on a back porch overlooking the feilds

An old flannel with a patched sleeve laying in the cockpit of the air tractor

A collection of trophies barely glinting against the quiet morning light of the countryside

A couple of dragonflies zipping over a feild of tall grass and wildflowers

The colors of rusty cliffs and burning campfire logs

Old casette tapes with Johnny Cash on them, piled into the glove box and the side doors of a dented up baby blue pickup

The really big stick shift bar in said truck, where the label has been worn off the end

A cheerful Saturday night crowd in the local bar, with neon signs overhead and toe-tapping songs

A pair of well-worn leather steel-toed boots, with a leather care bottle next to them

An aged welcome mat against creaky ashen floorboards on the front porch

The oceanic sweep of a feild of wheat stalks as the wind billows over them, dark clouds beginning to loom overhead

Framed photos and family momentos covering every wall of the ranch house

[smolcuriouskitten]

R.I.P.

tw; death, abuse mention, guilt, etc. proceed at your own risk!

"A death that follows me is the death of my mom. She was killed at the hands of my ex-husband and I was in the next room. While I couldnt directly hear anything, I always wonder how differently my life would have been if she had lived for a little longer." She then goes through her memory box and pulls out a red casette tape, looking down at it. "This was the recording where she was killed. I cant listen to it." There was a pause and a deep sigh. "Part of me wants to know what her last words were, if she was calm or anxious or scared. What was the crowds reaction as it happened, what Magic said. All of those things run through my mind and it's exhausting every time I look at the tape."

She chokes up, putting the tape down and grabbing a red fedora that was also in the box. "Then once I discovered what he did, I killed him too." She feels the tears running down her face. "It wasnt my choice, when witches go through an emotionally taxing experience where they could be put at risk, coupled with the fact that he was abusing me, my magic got tired of it and a force equivalent to the sun was blasted at him at full force." At this point she was sobbing, putting the fedora down and grabbing a little teddy bear that was in the box. "The building burned at my doing and it hurts to remember. My mom's body still inside and I thought my husband got out when I later found out I killed him. I felt like a monster and I couldn't shake the feeling even if everything wasnt my fault. Or at least I like to tell myself that. So I locked myself in my house for awhile out of fear that I would hurt someone."

[cake-writes]

I want to fall asleep in the passenger seat of buckys car while he drives us around through the night, Come As You Are playing on th radio.

The two of you stole a Camry for the mission, an older model, because it was easier to break into and hotwire - never mind the fact that you wouldn’t have to worry about an alarm. Inside you noticed the distinct musty smell that only older cars have, from dust on the dashboard, sunlight-eroded rubber and well-worn cloth seats.

At first, you tried the radio, but it was broken. Then, at some point during the journey, in the back seat you found a small box of casette tapes and selected one at random: a mixed tape, one chock full of 90′s bands to suit the old car. They reminded you of your childhood.

It was far too late to blast the tunes like you normally would have. No, it was late and you were tired, and there wouldn’t be anything around for miles, let alone a motel. 

Instead, you kept the volume just loud enough to hear above the relaxing hum of tires against smooth asphalt. Dim headlights illuminated the long, straight road ahead of you as Bucky drove with one hand on the steering wheel, his other arm resting on the windowsill. This night was particularly dark due to the new moon, and you were surrounded by nothing but the eerily quiet Arizona desert.

“Try to get some sleep,” he told you, his voice low to match the late hour. 

It startled you a little; you’d already started to drift off. You rubbed your eyes blearily and muttered something that vaguely sounded like an, “Okay,” before you propped your arm up against the windowsill and lay your head down on top of it. The window was cold against your skin, but you were too tired to care. 

When Bucky’s warm hand came to rest on your thigh, you relaxed just a little bit more, fading away to the nostalgia of Nirvana. 

[lifeawoke]

♥     –    @tiimedtm​  asked    :    ‘    🎁 + a casette player and a casette with funky music    ’    from  this. 

    she  smiles  giddily  at  the  two  boxes.    “    two  gifts    ?!    ”    she  exclaims,  entirely  enraptured  by  the  devices.  natasha  grabs  the  cassette  tape  first,  her  finger  foolishly  toying  with  the  mechanism  of  it–  not  enough  to  destroy  the  thing–  but  just  enough  to  put  visible  worry  on  jason’s  face.  she  just  barely  notices  it.  her  assault  on  the  object  ceases,  she  hands  it  back  to  jason  to  hold,  and  continues  forward  with  her    “    second    ”    gift.

    it’s  gray,  sleek,  and  new  enough  to  still  reflect  in  the  sun.    “    oh,  i  think  i  like  this  one  a  lot,    ”    she  says.  as  if  the  mere  moments  before  this  were  entirely  wiped  from  her  memory,  natasha  once  more  fingers  the  new  things,  scourging  it  for  something  special  and  futuristic    (    as  new  things  are  often  special  and  futuristic  to  her,  especially  when  they  come  from  jason    ).    one  button  she  presses  opens  something  that,  by  the  excited  look  on  her  other’s  face,  natasha  can  only  presume  was  meant  to  be  opened.  quickly  does  she  snatch  the  other  box  back  from  her  friend’s  hand  and,  in  her  own  excitement,  turn  around  as  if  to  hide  her  own  surprise  from  him.  she  manages  to  put  the  thing  in  without  breaking  it    (    a  miracle  considering  the  level  of  enthusiasm  she  used  to  do  so    )    and  turns  back  around  only  to  demand  him  to  tell  her  which  button  to  press  next.  

    he  does  it  for  her.  the  music  plays.  as  if  her  grin  was  not  wide  enough,  natasha  laughs  a  hearty  laugh  for  her  achievement  to  the  b-52′s    ‘    private  idaho    ’.    the  english  words  are  far  too  fast  for  her  to  comprehend  but  do  nothing  to  damper  the  high-energy  mood  she’s  found  herself  in.  without  even  a  full  minute  into  the  song  the  little  countess  is  beside  herself  with  her  new  gift.    “    oh,  i  love  it  so  odd  and  wonderful    !    and  fantastic    !    i’ve  never  received  a  better  gift  in  my  life,  not  even  from  my  parents    !    you  really  should  meet  them  some  day,  truly,  but  not  today,  no...  but  jeez,    ”    she  learned  that  from  him,    “    what  a  fantastic  gift    !    i  love  it,  truly,  honestly,  it’s  amazing.    ”  

    determined  to  do  something  bold,  rostova  wraps  her  arms  around  his  neck.  she  places  her  lips  on  his  for  a  quick  moment–  a  quick  moment  only–  and  pulls  back  with  a  slight  tremor  in  her  lips.    “    okay,    ”    she  says  in  a  voiceless  whisper,  pulling  back.  her  smiles  returns  in  a  shyer  form.    “    i  really  liked  it.    ”

[writinginthebunker]

Fever Dean

Set during Stanford era, Dean gets sick and calls up Sam for some much needed comfort.

1500 words or so

Along a winding road dipped in infinity and brushed with stars drove a lonely young man in a frayed leather jacket. The heater in his vehicle continuously kicking on and off, he would have to fix that later, he hadn't seen another soul since he passed the last little sleepaway town, opting not to stop. He was somewhere on a long stretch of road in Colorado, or was it Kansas, he couldn't tell anymore. He had stopped paying attention miles ago, his attention to the road had been dwindling the last few days. He couldn't find the energy to focus anymore.

He had so little money he'd been dozing in his car every night, if he kept driving the heat kept on in the freezing temperatures. More often than not snow would cap his vehicle, he would brush it away in the morning before leaving.

Removing the Led Zeppelin casette from the car's tape player he placed it carefully back into it's case and dropped it into the casette bin. Though the heater pumped out warm air at full capacity a shiver rolled through his body, looking at the time he found a side road and pulled over.

The man tried to get comfortable, burying himself in flannels and all the blankets he had at his disposal, to no avail. The more the heat abandoned the car the stronger the tremmors became.

Unable to get warm the man sat up on the bench seat, leaning his fresh out of the oven forehead onto the frosted window. He swallowed his saliva, feeling it catch on his throat on the way down. The cold and weary man glanced at his phone charging on the cigarette lighter, grabbing it gingerly he flipped it open. Another shiver rolled through his body, his jaw quivered as he eyed the small device.

His body ached, it begged for a comfort or solace, a rough cough forced its way out of his tired lungs. He didn't need help, but his body ached for it. His large fingers fumbled on the small device, finding his way to his contacts, selecting carefully and hitting call, despite the late hour, the low bars, the busy lives, after a few rings, he answered.

"Hiya Sabby." He said, pinching the bridge of his nose,

"Hey, Dean, how's it going?" Sam asked,

"I'b okay," he said, "just calling to see how my, hi-huhow-he-hitchooo, how my little brother is doing." He said, wiping his nose on his tattered sleeve,

"Sounds like you have one hell of a cold, where are you?" Sam asked, concern twinging his voice,

"Doesd't matter." He said, because truly it didn't. He was in the middle of nowhere in a breaking down Impala, shivering through another lonely night. He just wanted some company is all.

"Yes, yes it does, Jess and I can-" Dean cut him off,

"No, Sabby." He sounded tired, "I'm ok, I just wanted to hear your voice, that's all. I shouldd't have called."

"Dean-" he hung up the phone. He buried himself back in the blankets and placed his phone back on the charger, muffling another sneeze or two in the process. He laid back against the window as his phone light up with a call.

"I'b fide Sabby," he greeted, ignoring pleasantries, he wasn't feeling well enough for them.

"No, you're not. You only sneeze like that when you're really sick or shoved your face in a cat. You can't hide this one."

"Sorry Sabby, I shouldd't have called."

"You're an idiot."

"Sorry," numbing guilt was all he could feel, bothering Sam, at Stanford, where he was trying to get away from this family, from this life. "I shouldd't have bothered you."

"Dean, stop it. Now really where are you?"

"Id the middle of nowhere, id the Ibpala, I he-ha-hatchoo, he-hishew, sorry, I'b od the side of a road, baybe ub, Kadsa-ha-ha-Kadsas. Or Colorado? Hetchoo! I'b really dot sure."

"You're staying in the Impala?"

"I dod't have the modey for a hotel, beed feeligg bad for a while, thigk I might be rudding a fever, hkshh" He admitted quietly between sneezes "jusd tryigg to get to the dext hudt."

"Dean," Sam whined, "you need to stop and rest,"

"I cad't, the heater for the Ibpala is havigg problebs, I need to keep movig or it doesd't stay warb." He felt himself offloading onto his brother, knowing he shouldn't.

"Dean I'm coming to get you. Figure out where you are. Call me back when you do. I'm packing a duffel and leaving now." He hung up. Dean sighed, he screwed up. He shouldn't have called. He sneezed again, looking around for signs, unable to see anything he started the car back up and continued driving.

"I'b in Kadsas city Sabby," he said after calling his brother back, "I guess I got further thad I thought."

"Okay Dean, we were in Ohio visiting Jess' family, so I'll be there in a few hours okay? Don't go anywhere."

"Sure thig Sabby." He said quietly, coughing into the crook of his arm. The boys hung up. Dean found a place to park on the outskirts of town and texted Sam a location. He plugged the phone back into the charger and turned off the Impala. The remaining heat resonated in the air like music, fading quickly as it leaked out of the bodice of the Impala, leaving Dean shivering and huddled in the back seat. He sneezed violently into his sleeve, pulling blankets up further around him. The scratchy wool barely making a dent in the chill wracking his beat up body.

Dean didn't know how much time has passed, but he heard a rapping on the Impala window, he turned, not to find Sam but instead an officer of the law, Dean groggily rolled down his window,

"Yes, officer?" He croaked out,

"You can't sleep here son, I'm gonna need to ask you to leave. I'll let you off with a warning this time, don't let me catch you out here again." Dean nodded, pulling his tired body back into the front seat and driving away.

Driving through empty city streets he found a new location, buried behind some trees in a park, and he curled back up in the back seat, sweat now pouring off of his body.

The next rapping on the window he heard was a familiar face, he opened the door and climbed out of the frigid Impala.

"Hiya Sabby," he said as his yournger brother pulled him into a giant hug. Dean felt the heat his brother provided and nuzzled in,

"Hi Dean." He said, not letting go. This was the first he'd seen his brother since leaving for Stanford last year,

"He-xxshooxxshoo!" Dean sneezed, trying to turn away, unintentionally spraying his brother. "Sorry Sabby." He said sheepishly,

"Dean quit apologizing and get in my car, come on."

"I deed to grab my stuff frob the Ibpala."

"I've got it, get in the car." Dean didn't have the energy to fight, and got into the small vehicle.

He opened up the passenger door to find multiple quilts, a box of tissues, some cough medicine, and other medical supplies strewn about the cab. Sam gathered the pile of clothes and blankets Dean had been sleeping in and threw them into the back seat, locking up the Impala and popping into the driver's seat. Pulling a thermometer from his pocket he stuck it in his brother's mouth.

"Under the tongue." He said firmly, wrapping blankets around him. "We're going to a motel." Dean just closed his eyes and focused on not letting the tickling sensation building in his nose out. The thermometer beeped and Dean took it out if his mouth, letting the sneezing fit overtake him. Sam just frowned and grabbed the tiny device from his brother's shaking hand.

"104.5" he read off, Dean still stuck in a sneezy loop. "Here" Sam said, holding a tissue over his brother's red nose as he continued violently convulsing.

"Thangks Sabby," he said when we was finally free, taking the wad from his brother who had patiently held it there during the fit. He handed his brother the Nyquil from the driver side door,

"Drink up." Dean grimmaced but nodded, taking a shot of the vile liquid.

"That should cover be, I cad just go back to the Ibpala and sleep this off add you cad go back to Jess add Stadford."

"No way, I know you, I'll be here until your fever breaks at least." Dean frowned,

"I'b sorry."

"Stop it. How many times was this reversed? I'm here, get over it and stop apologizing."

"Okay Sabby," Dean said, finding his eye lids heavy and sleep on the horizon.

[petereston-blog]

13 Reasons Why You Should Love a Teacher and One Reason Why You Shouldn’t

From this point onwards, this commentary shall cohere with a present-day piece of popular culture: 13 Reasons Why. The American drama-mystery web television series revolves around the story of a high school student who records on a box of casette tapes the thirteen reasons why she ended her life.

I should clarify, though, that this is different, because I do not intend to end my life, or even talk about death. Rather, it is the opposite. In the film, a character listed thirteen reasons behind a death, but today, I will tell you of thirteen reasons for life, the life of a teacher, to be more precise, and why you should love one.

My interest in writing these reasons are largely personal. I, myself, have pursued a teacher’s path. Even my girlfriend, as an addition, is the same. For this reason, I hope you will not hold back in reading. Trust me, I am an educator.

Let me start with the basics. I am sure that most of you are familiar with the lesson plan. Teachers always have plans. Planning is the first and most important step in management. Speaking from my own experience, whenever teachers plan, they plan to succeed. And the plan to success always includes progress and steady growth.

Following this, let me get to some of the details of the lesson plan; the objective, the procedure; and the agreement. Allow me to expound on each of these terms.

Teachers always make “objectives.” Modesty aside, they don’t set only one objective- they point to three, at the very least. These objectives target a holistic growth through the cognitive, affective, and psychomotor domains. This a way to fill your minds with well-founded knowledge, and at the same time, to instill in your hearts essential values and priceless shared memories, all in the hopes that it will help you create a desired future.

The third reason is that teachers follow a procedure. A teacher’s procedure includes motivation. I believe that this is a necessary element in partners. Teachers believe that students work longer, persist harder, and become more active when they are motivated to learn. If they can encourage their students to  do a task from start to finish, they will also be more likely to motivate you to do the same as well. Thus, they always bring out the best in you.

Next is the agreement. “Assignment” as you might have usually heard it during the previous years. Some people may find it a burden to bring schoolwork home but it does put emphasis on one important thing: obligation. Teachers are ever ready to make agreements with you as long as you do your part to make it a success. They always see to it that even if you are from afar, you are equipped with the things that are essential to you.

You may find the fifth reason absurd or hilarious, nonetheless, it is of practical terms. Teachers have a lot of loans. One loan is enough to build a house. Or should I say that they are just waiting for you for them to start a home? One thing I proved about being a teacher is that we do not go home empty-handed. Even if we fall short on some things, we always find ways to compensate for our shortcomings.

The sixth reason would probably be your favorite. I know that most of you have seen a final demonstration teaching. Teachers are full of surprises. They use different kinds of visual aids such as pictures, letters. They even improved it through the use of realias and replicas to sustain the interest of their students. They stay awake all night to finish all these. Once again, I am sure that is what everyone hopes for: effort. If teachers that much effort inside the classroom, imagine how much more they can do for you. Effort of that quality and quantity is  unquestionably #relationshipgoals.

Seven: Teachers give second chances. They consider every man as unique and capable of making mistakes. They are forgiving.

Eight: Teachers do not complicate things. They cannot stand seeing you having a hard time under any circumstance. To prove this, teachers make learning easier and happier - so will they, when it comes to you. They will ensure that things will work with you. In the end it will all be worth it.

Each classroom constitutes a number of students. Let us say, forty. Correct me if I am wrong, teachers assist them wholeheartedly despite their differences. They consider responsibilty rather than a job to take care of them. This is the ninth reason to love a teacher. Rest assured, you and your children will be in good hands. Who would never want a happy family, right?

For the 10th reason, let us discuss stability. Aside from getting enough salary, teachers receive different bonuses and incentives. Chalk and clothing allowances, performance-based bonus, productive efficiency incentive, thirteenth month pay, and christmas bonus are but some of the many incentives I am talking about. The good news is that they do not spend the money for themselves alone. They are more inclined to use it for the family, because they want you to have the life that you deserve.

If by chance that you feel that you are not enough, love a teacher. They are not after what you can not do rather they appreciate what you can do and believe to what you can do more. We teachers value even the little things, and we understand that sometimes, it is what matters the most. “A person who feels appreciated will always do more than what is expected”

The twelfth reason is that they are well-known to many. It is akin to the experience of dating a superstar. Yet being a superstar, they maintain a highly respected disposition.

The last and the thirteenth reason to love a teacher is that we love unconditionally. As you might have noticed from the previous statements, we never get to choose who we meet. And yet we always care for everyone’s happiness and success without any thought for what we might get for ourselves. It is just that when we love, we accept who they are, who they were, and who they will be.

 I believe that teachers are often the most educated. I am proud of my profession. But despite my respect and high regard for my chosen vocation, it is not all sunshine and rainbows. There are also the downsides of teaching, but none of them are enough to outweigh the profession’s significance.

However, we are also talking about relationships. To me, if there is one single reason why you should not love a teacher, it would be time. You should not compete with our time for our students. You should not even make us choose between you and them, for we value our students like our own flesh. At the end of the day, what we will always  be aiming for is their success. Cliche as it may sound, “You are a teacher 24/7.”