#miles spray painted that on there btw

[milimeters-morales]

Miles: hey you know how to drive right?

Hobie: no

Miles, pulling him towards a bus labeled “DOWN WITH THE CIS”: even better!!

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! I loved your last hobie fic btw it was really good!!

Imagine that in hobies universe you died but when he travels to miles universe he sees you alive 😭 and then the reader introduces themselves to him the same way they did in his universe

Keep feeding us with these ATSV fics 😈😈

Have a great day!!!

Thank you for enjoying my Hobie Brown stuff anon cuz he’s been invading my mind recently. I hope to god this is okay for ya. 🦦

Hobie remembered first meeting you as though it were yesterday, you were within an alleyway vandalising the walls with your spray paint, he happened to be passing by when one of your masterpieces caught his eye; it was of him…well him as Spider-Man clocking a cartoonish Osborne -appropriately adorned with devil horns and a tail- in the head with his eyes crossed out in red spray paint as though he were dead.

It got a good chuckle out of him that was for sure and from that alone he knew he had to know you more on a personal level. ‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ He asked aloud, making you jolt, you were pretty sure you had chosen a spot where you weren’t going to get caught by the authorities or those that’d grass you up for expressing how you truly felt about Osborne and all those just like him. You shrugged, looking up at your finished product before looking back over at Hobie, ‘dunno yet,’ you told him truthfully, ‘my working titles are either anarchy incarnate or death to capitalism.’

Hobie hummed in approval, but he thought you could do better, ‘how about anarchy is the death of capitalism?’ He suggested and he couldn’t never forget the light in your eyes upon hearing his working title, that in the midst of your excitement you had grabbed him by the arm, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it, you’re a genius man!’ You cried before realising what you did and immediately removed your hand from his arm, ‘sorry about that.’ Hobie dismissed your apology by slinging an arm over your shoulder. ‘Nah, don’t give me that shit, you shouldn’t have to apologise for being yourself for that’s what they want you to do.’

‘I don’t think I ever got your name.’ You said. ‘Hobie. Hobie brown and may I get to know the name of the amazing artist behind this.’ Hobie gestured to the spray painting. ‘Y/n l/n.’ You replied. ‘Well y/n, I think we’re going to get along quite well.’ And you did.

So when your untimely death happened, Hobie felt as though he were Achilles having lost his Patroclus. He cradled your body into his arms even long after you had said your final words, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’ and much longer after it had already gone cold. You had told him that you were heading out to go spray paint with some people you’ve met and the worst soon came when despite knowing that you didn’t have to, you still went out of your way to act as a distraction so that the rest may escape; which resulted in the way that it did.He knew he should’ve gone with you that day because then maybe you would still be alive and taking the piss out of him for worrying about you but he didn’t, so you weren’t.

Ever since then Hobie had made it his goal to keep fighting for not only his chase but yours as well in your memory. He made you a memorial in the exact same place where you first met, always paying it a visit whenever he felt as though he needed you with him, which has lead him to start talking to your spray pairings as though they were actually you. There was without a shadow of a doubt that you were quite possibly one of the greatest artists to have ever lived, alongside with being an avid inspiration to many to the youths who felt as though they had no way of expressing themselves when feeling slighted by the society they were born in. Hell you even inspired him! So much so that there were a multitude of songs he would perform that depicted a individual with stardust in their eyes, a rebellious fire in their heart and a insatiably need to insight the themes of anarchy within anything they touched.

After your death Hobie kept a good portion of your things; such as your spray cans that would never get used, your clothes that still clung onto the very last essence of you much like he did and even kept the picture you took together after helping you finish a project you had been wanting to pursue for a long while; and who would’ve thought that it would be him, not as Spider-Man, just good old Hobie Brown with the message, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’

So when he caught himself walking down a alleyway much like he did long ago but this time in a completely new place, he felt as though he was being hit with a wave of de ja vu when his ears picked up on the familiar hissing sound of a spray can. It was like he was back there again and if his memory serves him right, he knew what was to come next the moment he, Gwen and Miles made it into a clearing where they were greeted with the sight of someone’s back as they were deeply engrossed with their own handy work. ‘You’re going to love them Hobie, they’re like super cool and awesome.’ Gwen told him but her words went in one ear and out the next as he stared up at the spray painting of Miles as Spider-Man mid swing; it was beautiful without a doubt but they style in which it was drawn was all too familiar.

‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ Hobie had said without realising it until you jolted before turning to look directly at him, regaining your composure, ‘dunno yet.’ You shrugged and your voice sounded like an echo to the past for Hobie who so desperately wanted to pinch himself in that moment. ‘my working titles are either a bright new era or rising above all expectations.’ Hobie didn’t say anything for he knew he was going to say something that would only scare you away, just because you were another version of his y/n didn’t mean you shared the same memories; to you, he was just another spider-man from another reality, he wasn’t your Hobie despite how he wish he was but he knew he couldn’t put that on you.

He also couldn’t blame you for being alive while his version of you was dead. It wouldn’t be fair on you for being blamed for something that wasn’t your fault to begin with and it wouldn’t be fair on him either, as despite how many times he made himself believe that he has accepted your death, his heart would remind him that he truly hadn’t. You were such a pivotal part of his life that he couldn’t seem to let go of. ‘Hmm, both titles sound cool but I think we can do better.’ Miles pipped up, breaking Hobie out of his headspace that was running rampant with all the best memories you shared together. ‘How about…the bright new era of rising above all expectations?’ Hobie interjected.

You made a face at the suggestion before a wide smile spread across your face as you lost yourself in your excitement and grabbed ahold of his arm like you did when your first met, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it! You’re a genius dude, thank you.’ But before you could remove your hand from his arm, Hobie grasped your hand and held it firmly. ‘I don’t believe I told you my name, it’s Hobie by the way.’ Your excused his actions as an exchange of formal greeting and grasped onto his hand with the same about of force. ‘Nice to meet you Hobie, I’m y/n.’

‘I know’ is what Hobie desperately wanted to say but kept it all contained under a strained smile.

[pemfrost]

Prompts: Superhero Photographer Peter Parker au. (whether or not he has powers or someone else like ben riley or miles (or whoever else you like) is spiderman and peter is just his nurse/suit guy.) Could be spideydevil. Maybe people shipping spidey and peter if their the same. fanfics being made. Peter parker not getting paid enough for this. Just have fun with it. Matt's friends making fun of the photos of him. unspoken rule of you don't screw with Peter. Btw have you seen moon knight? I been watching it. It's amazing. (Sorry if I asked this already I'm not sure if I did or not.)

I took a few liberties with the prompt n.n"

Sorry this took so long! I'm dealing with some stuff, but this was a nice distraction :)

Yes! Moonknight has been my husband's favorite comic for years and he's so excited to have more merch and fan content now. I never really got into the comics, but enjoyed what I did read. The show has been fantastic so far, thoroughly enjoying it!

This is a rough draft, I'll post it to ao3 whenever I get around to cleaning it up n.n I do have a part two in mind, so hopefully I'll get time to write that soon.

Back in highschool Peter would take photos of himself as Spider-Man by setting up a camera with a timer. It was simple, but those early photos earned him some money, some respect, and most importantly some plausible deniability whenever someone started to suspect he may be Spider-Man. But, pictures only did so much as the years went on. They're easy to steal, to take credit for- hard to sell.

Harder to monetize.

And Peter needed money. Not a lot, but enough to get by. Between college and his time as Spider-Man, Peter didn't have much time for a part time job. Being a hero didn't exactly pay the bills unless you unmasked, made deals, sold toys- none of which Peter was keen on doing. Someone somewhere was getting rich off selling Spider-Man merch but it sure wasn't him.

"Oh, that's him!" A small group of students near the biology lab gawked at Peter before folding into their group to whisper excitedly against the painted cinder block wall.

Peter was still trying to get used to the new attention.

Selling photographs might not make much money nowadays, but videos sure did. With some clever editing he was able to 'interview' himself, complete with action shots of Spider-Man swinging onto the rooftop where Peter pretended to wait. The short segments got him enough clicks on YouTube and tiktok to make decent enough money. He wasn't going to be rich anytime soon -or ever- but it paid the bills. He just hadn't banked on becoming so well known as Peter Parker.

The whispers got worse with each video. As his video's hits began to be measured in the millions, Peter began to wonder if it was time to stop. Truth be told, if some of his friends had it their way he never would have started.

"Hey, Petey!" A guy he vaguely recognized from around campus threw an overly familiar arm around his shoulders. His blonde hair was buzzed short and he reeked of too-strong body spray. "Mind asking Spidey something for me next time? I just wanna know how he deals with sweat when it drips down his-"

"I'll see what I can do," Peter said as he squirmed out of the embrace and made a hasty retreat down the hall to his last class. He just needed to get through his next class and he'd be home free until Monday.

“Hey-Yo!” The guy’s friend called after him, slightly too loud in the crowded hall. “Are you guys a couple? Like, why does he let YOU have access?” A few other students nearby murmured their own versions of the question as Peter disappeared around a corner.

Peter felt his face heat up, clenching his jaw to ground himself. Had he really fucked up that bad? That people thought- Well, if it wasn’t so dangerous he would have found it hilarious.

Thankfully, no one else approached him directly during class, afterwards, or on his way to the subway. Instead of heading home, he ventured to Matt's apartment for some much needed advice.

While M.J. would be the most obvious choice of friend to turn to for advice on such matters, Peter was taking any excuse he could muster to spend more time with Matt. He met Matt two years ago while Peter was a sophomore and they instantly hit it off. Two nerds who needed companionship while they studied, kindred spirits in more ways than they knew. They stayed in touch even when Matt started law school and then barely had time for much more than study sessions over takeout. Over the years their friendship brought them closer together, and now teetered on the edge of something more. Peter could feel it. Yet, neither of them gave voice or action to the desire which echoed in every lingering touch and longing gaze.

Bringing up the videos would lead to an interesting discussion. Peter would need to dance around the fact that he, Peter Parker, was, in fact, Spider-Ma. Despite their close friendship, Matt was not privy to such a personal detail of Peter’s life and he was desperate to keep it that way.

The walk from the subway to Matt’s apartment gave Peter plenty of time to sort his thoughts and come up with a rudimentary solution to his predicament. As he stepped off the elevator, Peter heard Matt’s roommate’s voice from down the hall.

“Well, then maybe you should tell him instead of being an overprotective baby about it!” Foggy shouted into the apartment before slamming the door behind himself. He slung a heavy looking messenger bag over his shoulder and made his way towards the elevator as Peter stepped off.

“Ah, hey Foggy!” Peter greeted, keeping his foot in the door to hold the elevator.

“Peter.” Foggy nodded, a smirk playing on his lips. “Any new Spidey videos?”

Peter groaned. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Foggy just laughed as the elevator doors closed.

Peter knocked slightly on Matt’s door as he turned the knob, correctly assuming it was unlocked. “Hey, Matt! Thought I’d swing over and study for my microbiology test.” He waited for Matt’s grunt of acknowledgement from the couch before he fully stepped into the familiar apartment.

Matt’s own classwork was splayed across the coffee table, thick law reference books at either end and a dozen or so individual documents organized in the middle. “You’re welcome to the chair. I need this space for a case study.” Matt leaned back, stretching his neck.

“Ah, I won’t distract you then.” He tossed his bag next to the oversized chair across from the couch. “What was Foggy yelling about?”

Matt stiffened slightly before shrugging, “Nothing. Why?” His nose crinkled as he raised a lip, “How much did you hear?”

“Nothing, really. Something about an overprotective baby? It’s not important, we should study.” He made a show of loudly pulling out his laptop.

They studied in silence for a while before Matt dropped one of his books to the table with a loud thud and blurted out, “You’re going to get yourself hurt!”

“Uh…”

“These… videos. Getting that close to a hero like that is going to make you a target. I warned you the first time you showed your face on them! It was fine when it was just your voice- but Peter! Spider-Man has enemies. Enemies who would use you to get to him.”

“Uh…” Peter blinked, not sure what to make of Matt’s outburst. “Why would some baddy want anything to do with some amature video guy like me? It’s not like they target M.J. anytime she interviews an avenger.”

“M.J. isn’t friends with them!”

“Who said I’m friends with Spider-Man?”

“Everyone! Some are saying you’re dating him- why else would you have such access to him?”

“I-” Huh, Peter hadn’t really thought about the optics before the comments made that morning. He was hoping to bring it up more eloquently, but Matt did give him the perfect opportunity to solicit advice. “People will always spread rumors, founded or not. How do I get them to stop… without actually stopping?”

Matt recoiled. “As your future lawyer, I advise you to stop. The rumors will never stop, and you’ll always be a target. You could be liable for any legal issues Spider-Man may cause if you knowingly withhold information. You- you could be compelled to reveal his identity.”

“But-”

Matt held up a hand. “End of discussion. I don’t want to know anymore.” He shifted his body to angle slightly away from Peter.

“Geeze. This is the worst ‘I told you so’ you’ve ever given me. What gives?” Peter crossed his arms and leaned back into the chair. He knew Matt couldn’t see him pout, but he stuck out his bottom lip for good measure.

“I need to study this case.” Matt squared his shoulders back and repositioned himself, gliding a finger over the document closest to him.

Peter scoffed, “Let’s pretend that you don’t have that basically memorized already. It won’t hurt you to take a five minute break and talk to me.”

“I don't want to talk about it.” Matt’s tone was firm. “Didn’t you say you came to study?”

“I came to ask you for advice, actually.” Peter shoved his laptop back into his bag. “I’ll leave you to your case study, then.”

“You don’t need to go.” Matt tilted his head, the closest to an apology Peter could expect while the other man was so agitated.

Peter hesitated. He didn’t want to be a burden, or a distraction. It probably had been a bad idea to ask Matt for advice anyway, he’d voiced his objection back when he was still just selling photos.

Matt sighed, visibly deflating. “I don’t have any advice to give you, Pete. At least none I haven't already given.”

“I know. I guess I should ask someone else.” He sat on the edge of his seat, still unsure if he should stay or go. “I don’t want to stop, Matt. I make good enough money from the ad revenue alone on these videos.”

“Then the rumors will continue as well. As will the comments and the jokes.”

Peter winced. “People will forget. Eventually."

"Villains won't. Will your boyfriend be able to guarantee your safety?" There was a sour note in Matt's voice.

Did Matt think… "That's not-" He stopped himself. What could he say to make Matt believe him? Besides the truth?

Matt stood and motioned towards the door. "Perhaps it would be best if we study independently."

Peter's mind raced. He didn't want to leave, especially not when Matt seemed so aggravated with him. "Matt, I-"

"Peter, please."

And what could Peter do except leave? Confess? Stop the endless dancing and tell Matt he was falling in love with him? Or, throw all his cards on the table and give Matt the complete truth?

Peter hung his head. Neither. He could do neither. For all the same reasons Matt wanted him to stop his films. He would never let Matt become a target because of him. So, without any other options, Peter grabbed his bag and shuffled out the door.

--

Thanks for reading ❤️

[vickiesamum-blog]

Mom and Katie tried to go camping..... Went to our usual spot up in the mountains. The spot we have gone to for 20 years. Some jerk spray painted a swastika and the N-word as well as a mushroom on the trees there that they didn't hack-up the bark on and hung a noose from the tree. They left a crap ton of garbage and nastiness including a very used bucket that was full of human feces. So we went further up river. We got into a spot that was in much better shape discovered a pretty cool swimming hole and worked for an hour to level the trailer in the dark... minus the Jack that was supposed to be in the truck (which is why it took so long...btw) because someone removed it from my truck... Got to bed at 1 am... dogs woke us at 6 Speaking of the dogs... Skye had a fun new experience... she chased a deer....lol... Thank God Mags was tied up! We hiked a bit, played a bit hitched up to move to the lake about 40 miles away, if you go the forest service road up to the top of the canyon we were in and take the rim road across... Busted a joint on the frame of my vintage 1963 Cadet Coach Robin Hood travel trailer...going to the top of the canyon... This is a single lane road... blasted out of the side of a canyon...so it's a ROUGH ROAD! Went super careful... 5mph... seriously...the trailer broke after five miles... we had to stop..pop the frame piece back in place, and figure out how to make it so we could travel without dragging the frame piece and potentially starting a forest fire from all the sparks...finally used a dog tieout cable... My daughter Katie is so smart (it was totally her idea!) Took an hour and a half to go the 8 miles to the summit of the canyon road... up to the Junction. Then the ten miles to the highway on the paved road was filled with rockslides Covering 50% of the road in places, 12 inch deep snow (Yes, you read that right... SNOW...in June!) in places and we took almost an hour to go ten more miles... Once we hit the highway we were at the summit (5851 feet) and we stop because the dogs have been in the back of the truck the whole time. The frame piece is being held up by the dog tie out cable and I am afraid to go hiway speed.... We get to the turn off for the lake...yeah thats the picture... did you read it? Yes that sign says closed... Why you ask? There is STILL SNOW So we say forget it... let's go home. The trip home should have taken an hour tops... at highway speed... but I took the back roads... because I was worried about the trailer... So we got home. Parked the trailer and unhitched... we left the campspot at 2pm... the trip shouldn't have taken more than 3 hours took five... lol but it was an adventure

[valofthevilla]

The first post from our epic Summer 2020 adventure in progress. We are 1500 miles in so feel free to follow along in stories as I’m a little slow to post on the feed. 🤪 . It takes the longest to get out of Texas so here’s the most memorable stop at the #CadillacRanch in #amarilloTexas - an art installation that is ever changing. Bring your supply of spray paint and tag away and don’t be surprised if an entire herd of cattle walks up you. #Texasyall 🤠 .... ***btw, there are 10 of us, 2 adults and we JUST decided to do this Sunday morning. Like the Sunday that JUST passed. 😳 Picked up the Sprinter Monday at almost midnight and were on the road Tuesday morning. #flybytheseatfamily So, we are planning as we go. My go to for such adventures is this amazing app @roadtrippers to add waypoints, calculate mileage and find attractions on the fly. 😉 . . . . I’ll do the best I can to keep up with training but really, staying active and running in every state is my goal (along with my challenges 😉). Speaking of...we’ve started a new July challenge #Bunsgunsandabs (swipe) if you want to follow along. I’ll be keeping up with it (finishing #1776challenge tomorrow) and also joining @sphere.club for their 100 bike miles in July challenge. I won’t have access to my bike for awhile so that means I’ll be motivated to get back on the saddle to meet this goal when I get back. 🙌🏼 . If you join either challenge, tag me in your post! Let’s keep the motivation rolling during these unsettling times. (Masking up across America 😷) ✌🏼 . #roadtrippers #greatamericanroadtrip #roadtrip #roadtripUSA #roadtrippin #westtexas #amarillobymorning #summeradventure #texashillcountry #cadillac #amarillotx #amarillo #sprintervanlife #texasroadtrip #route66 @only.in.texas @texas_ig @route66texas #followourroadtrip #bettysquad #everybodyisabetty (at Cadillac Ranch) https://www.instagram.com/p/CCMFxhUgWc-/?igshid=121jstrx2liti

[imaginexsa]

Take Care Of You (Dean x Reader)

A/N: Okay okay, so I’m sorry that I took so long to post and I’m also really sorry for this fic because I really couldn’t think of what to write for this request except for taking that last scene and writing it haha it was one of the scenes I always wanted to write so I wrote that and changed it a little bit at the end…I hope you don’t mind😅 Btw there is no fluff in this haha, it seemed a bit hard to add fluff seem to be in constant pain and not pains like period cramps so I’m so so so sorry!! Anyways, enjoy!!

Request: @thesarahpoo: Hi, I loveeee your writing and I was wondering if you can do one where the reader does the trials instead of Sam and Dean has to take care of her with a ton of angst and fluff?? Thank you love♡

You winced as you injected the empty needle into your arm, drawing some blood, before you slowly turned back to face the demon cuffed to a chair.

“You really think injecting me with human blood is gonna make me human? Did you read that on the back of a cereal box?” Crowley asked.

Ignoring him, you grabbed his head and titled it to the side forcefully before injecting the needle in his neck with your blood. Crowley yells in pain as you stepped back, both of you looking at each other before he smirked.

“You’re miles out of your league, kitten. See you in an hour.”

You turned away and headed towards the altar table where all your things were. Holding your arms out in front of you, you watched as they glowed orange, sucking in your breath from the pain.

It was almost done, the trials are almost going to be completed. This was the last one, which was to cure a demon. Dean had wanted to do the trials instead but it was you who killed the hellhound and had gotten completely covered with its blood, you fought with Dean just to do this. If this was the only way to seal the gates of hell, then you’ll gladly do it.

However, you couldn’t help but notice that the trials were taking a toll on you. You couldn’t eat or sleep well, and you would sometimes even get random bursts of pain, but you couldn’t tell the brothers that, especially Dean, knowing he would make you stop immediately.

You glanced around at the abandoned church, it was just you and Crowley here. Sam and Dean had went off to help Cas with his own trials. Dean hadn’t wanted to leave you here alone with the King of Hell but you told him that it was fine and that you could handle it. It took a lot of persuasion but you did it and now you were alone.

Turning back, you saw the demon looking at you before he gave you a wink. You grunted as you turned back and let out a sigh.

~

You stared up at the cross before looking back down and glancing at your watch, seeing that an hour had passed. Picking up another syringe that you had filled with your blood, you started heading towards Crowley.

Grabbing his head again, you tilted it and injected the blood. As you started to pull back, Crowley suddenly grabbed your hand that was holding his head and bit into your forearms. You immediately pulled back and yelped in pain as you looked at your arm, seeing that he bit a big chunk of flesh off your arm.

“What the hell, Crowley?” You glared at the demon as you pressed against the wound, the demon looking at you defiantly. You punched him hard on his face, seeing his head snap to the side. “Biting?! Seriously?!”

You quickly walked out of the church and headed to the impala where the medical supplies were. Opening the trunk, you muttered a few expletives as you grabbed the first aid kit, starting to disinfect the wound, wincing from the pain before bandaging it up.

Glaring at where Crowley sat in the church, you cursed a few more colorful words before you started to keep the first aid kit but decided against it as you took it with you and closed the trunk.

Like dealing with the King of Hell isn’t enough, dealing with a biting King of Hell? Well, god help us all.

~

“How we doing, kitten? Ain’t it about time for the next love injection?” Crowley asked as he started singing. “Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes, turn and face the strange.”

You turned away from him as you clenched your fists tightly, your arm glowing again. You inhaled sharply as you ignored his singing. Suddenly, the church started to rumble and shake. Turning to look at Crowley, you had the demon-killing knife in your hand, ready. Looking down, you saw the floorboard starting to crack until the demon trap that Dean had spray painted around Crowley.

“Did you really think you could kidnap the King of Hell and no one was gonna notice, dumb nuts?!” Crowley yelled out just as the front doors of the church opened.

You stiffened as you watched Abaddon striding in with a smirk on her face. “Hello, ladies.”

“Abaddon?” Crowley called out as he tried to turn and look at her. “They told me you were dead.”

“So not,” Abaddon shook her head.

Crowley turned back to look at you smugly as your eyes remained on Abaddon. “And the rest of the cavalry?”

“Oh, no, it’s just little old, unkillable me,” Abaddon said as you slowly reached behind to grab your gun but Abaddon was fast. She threw you against the side of the wall, causing you to fire a bullet at nothing.

You groaned in pain, looking up as Crowley spoke. “Brilliant. Why send in a few grunts when you can send in a knight? Say your prayers, kitten.”

Before you could stand up again, Abaddon raised her hand and tossed you through the window behind you.

As you started to regain your consciousness, you could hear thrashing coming from inside the church. You grunted as you pushed yourself up, feeling pain all over. Stumbling, you managed to stand up and make your way to the impala to grab the jar of holy oil that you had poured earlier before quickly heading back to the church.

You watched as Abaddon knocked Crowley out, you stood behind her. When she turned, you immediately splashed the holy oil on her, hearing her gasp. You immediately lit up a couple of matches. “I love the suit.”

Before she had time to react, you threw those lit matches at her. You heard her scream in pain as she flailed around, bursting into flames. You watched as black smoke poured out of her vessel, the smoke escaping through the window she had thrown you through earlier.

You watched as the vessel fell to the ground, the fire slowly dying. As much as you loved to just collapse from all the pain and tiredness, you gritted your teeth as you moved to place the jar aside before slowly walking towards the fallen Crowley, helping to get him upright again.

“You did good back there, kitten. I’ll deny it if you ever quote me, but I’m a proud man. I’m proud of you,” Crowley said.

Looking to him, you picked up the red spray paint and shook the can. “Thanks.” Walking towards him, you reapplied the paint to the demon trap.

“Hold on. Uh, w-what’s that?” Crowley asked.

“It’s what it looks like,” you said shrugging, as you finished retouching on the demon trap.

“Are you joking? I just saved your life,” Crowley said, sounding offended.

You laughed dryly. “Seriously?”

“Seriously? Me, seriously? We just shared a foxhole, you and I. We beat back the Tet Offensive, outrun the, the Rape of Nanking together! And still you’re gonna do me like this?!” Crowley demanded.

You didn’t say anything as you walked to grab another syringe before walking back to Crowley and moving his head to the side and injecting him as he yelled in pain.

“‘Band of Brother’? ‘The Pacific’? None of this means anything to you? All those motels, you never once watched HBO, not once? ‘Girls’? You’re my Marnie, kitten, a-and Hannah, she just, she needs to be loved, she deserves it,” Crowley ranted and you went to place the syringe at the side before staring at him with a frown, confused. “Don’t we all? You, me, we deserved to be loved. I deserve to be loved! I just want to be loved.”

You turned completely at Crowley’s words, hearing the vulnerability in his voice at the last sentence. Slowly walking towards him, you watch him look at you, anguish in his expression. You looked at him curiously. “What?”

Crowley looked confused as if he just realized what he said. “What?”

~

You looked to your watch, feeling a lot more tired than you were before as you injected another needle into your arm, wincing from the pain as you drew more blood.

“Would it be possible, kitten. I’d like…to ask you a-a favor, Y/N,” Crowley said, and you stood up slowly from your seat, looking at him. “Earlier, when you were confessing back there…what did you say? I only ask because, given my history…it raises the question…where do I start…to even look for forgiveness? I mean…”

You glanced at the needle in your hand before looking back at him. “How about we start with this?”

Crowley looked at it before tilting his head compliantly. You stuck the needle in his neck but Crowley didn’t yell out in pain again, instead, he just kept quiet.

~

You walked toward Crowley, book in your hand as you started reciting the incantation to purify Crowley. As you finished reciting, you threw the book aside and pulled out the knife, turning your left palm as you made a slice, the orange glow reappearing.

Staring at your hand, you started walking closer to Crowley, almost placing your hand on him when the doors to the church burst opened.

“Y/N, stop!” Dean yelled.

You turned to see Sam and Dean walking towards you cautiously. Sam placed his hands up. “Easy there. Okay. Just take it easy. We got a slight change of plan.”

You frowned. “What? What’s going on? Where’s Cas?!”

“Metatron lied,” Dean said, slowly approaching you as if he was scared you might do something you shouldn’t do.

“You finished this trial, you’re dead, Y/N,” Sam continued.

You looked at Dean before turning your gaze to Sam. “So?”

Stepping back, you pointed to Crowley. “Look at him. Look at him! Look how close we are! Other people will die if I don’t finish this!”

Dean took in a breath. “Think about it. Think about what we know, huh? Pulling souls from hell, curing demons, hell, ganking a hellhound! We have enough knowledge on our side to turn the tide here. But we can’t do it without you,” Dean said, a flash of vulnerability in his expression. “I can’t do it without you.”

You started shaking your head. “You two can barely do it with me. I mean, you think I screw up everything I try. I’m not a good hunter and we all know it.”

Dean took another step and you shook your head again. “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t t-”

“No, Dean,” you said, feeling tears well up in your eyes before you pointed to the place you did your confessions. “You both want to know what I confessed in there? What my greatest sin was?”

Sam and Dean kept quiet, looking at you as you glanced at both of them. “It was how many times I let both of you down. I can’t do it again.”

“Y/N-” Sam started to say but you cut him off as tears started trailing down your face.

“What happens when both of you decided that I just can’t be trusted? You two have each other, I’m just an added weight, a burden. Do you have any idea what it feels like to feel u-”

Dean straightened up. “Hold on, hold on! You seriously think that? Because none of it, none of it, is true. Listen, I know we’ve had our disagreements, okay? Hell, I know I’ve said some junk that set you back on your heels. But, Y/N, come on. I killed Benny to save you. I’m willing to let this bastard and all the sons of bitches that killed my mother and your parents walk because of you. Don’t you dare think that there is anything, past or present, that I would put in front of you! It has never been like that, ever! I need you to see that. I’m begging you, sweetheart. I love you.”

You eyed Dean, feeling your breath hitch as he said those words to you. Glancing at Sam, you saw him nod his head, you let out a breath. Squeezing your hand, you felt your blood drip out onto the floor, your arm glowing brighter before it slowly started to fade. “How do I stop?”

“Just let it go,” Sam said as Dean walked forward and wrapped your hand with a bandanna.

“I can’t,” you replied. “It’s in me. You don’t know what this feels like.”

“Hey, listen, we will figure it out, okay, just like we always do. Come on,” Dean said before pulling you in for a hug. You held him close as you rested your cheek against his chest, feeling him kiss the top of your head. “Come on. Let it go, okay? Let it go, baby.”

The glow in your arms started to fade even more as you stepped away from Dean’s arms. “Hey, guys.”

“See?” Dean said, starting to smile.

You looked up at both of them before you suddenly doubled over in pain. Dean and Sam immediately carried you out and beside the impala as the pain started getting more and more unbearable. You grunted and twisted, never feeling such white hot pain in your life.

“Y/N? I got you, baby. You’re gonna be just fine,” Dean said, sounding as if he was trying to reassure himself, cradling you close to him. “Nothing would happen to you.”

You couldn’t hear him as the pain hit you again like a train.

“Y/N, Y/N?” Sam called as you started gasping for air, not able to breathe. “Y/N?!”

Dean pulled back and looked to the distance. “Cas?! Castiel?! Where the hell are you?!”

You were still gasping for air as you gripped the front of Dean’s shirt, seeing the desperate look in his eyes. “I love you, Dean,”

“Y/N…” Dean started to say but you twisted your body and grunted in pain. Dean held you close. “You’ll be alright, you’ll be okay, I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

[newsexplored]

This Is The Real Story Behind 420

New Post has been published on https://newsexplored.co.uk/this-is-the-real-story-behind-420/

This Is The Real Story Behind 420

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The origins of 420 has nothing to do with Bob Marley, the chemical compounds in cannabis or police-speak for THC-related crimes.

While the date of April 20 is almost (without fail) associated with marijuana, no one actually knows the exact reason or the history behind it. Instead, it’s just an excuse for stoners to venture to Hyde Park in London and get illegally LIT.

In fact, the specific origins point back to the Year Of Our Lord 1970 AD and a group of friends known as ‘The Waldos’ who went on a treasure hunt for an abandoned cannabis crop.

Getty UK

The podcast Criminal attempted to unearth the true revelation of 420 after the Colorado Department of Transportation’s 420 mile sign post kept getting stolen (because stoner logic) – which they replaced with 419.99 mile markers.

It’s worth bearing in mind that Colorado was the first American state to legalise recreational use of marijuana.

Criminal’s host Pheobe Judge (who has excellent radio voice btw) spoke to Steve Capper and Dave Reddix, members of the original Waldo crew who got their name in ‘High’ School in Northern California.

They recounted the tale about their one of their friends who informed them of some weed that was grown by their his brother, who also worked in the coastguard.

Afraid that he was going to get busted by his C.O, the friend’s brother said that they can go and ‘pick it’. Along with his blessing they were given a drawn up map to find this herbal booty. When Steve approached Dave and the rest of their gang they said ‘of course’.

Dave went on to say:

We’re like teengae boys… free weed? Are you kidding?

Here’s where the origins of 420 spring to life, as they were still in High School (secondary school) some of the members had after school/extracurricular activities. So they all decided to meet at the Louis Pasteur statue on the grounds of San Rafael High School at 4:20 PM.

Wikipedia

When they meet up they lit doobie, got blazed and hoped into Capper’s ’66 Chevy Impla and went on a road trip in search of free weed.

As Reddix put it:

It looked like a scene from Cheech And Chong’s… one their movies cause we’d get the whole car clouded up with smoke…

Paramount Pictures

This would be something they would continue to do during their high school years, at 4:20 PM they would all meet up and go to their secret trove of free weed. Capper explained that they would spot each other in school and simply say ‘420 Louis’ and nod. It was their call sign, their secret code.

Although the 420 motif was privy only to the Waldos at the time, as the years went by their younger siblings, friends in lower year groups and people in their neighbourhood started to adopt the 420 catchphrase.

They would see ‘420 carved into benches and spray painted on walls’, that’s when they realised it had evolved beyond their group and ‘that there was something going on’.

A huge factor in the popularisation of 420 was the fact that Reddix’s brother was friends with the Grateful Dead’s bass player, Phil Lesh. It was the band’s close association with the city of San Rafael that 420 became a part of pop culture.

So whilst many have tried to claim themselves the originators of the ‘420 movement’, without anything tangible to back it up – Capper, Reddix and the rest of their Waldo compadres have ‘documented proof’ and ‘physical evidence’ to say otherwise.

The Grateful Dead / Wikipedia

Where is this so-called evidence you ask? Apparently, it’s locked safely away in a vault in San Fransisco.

So if you happen to be with someone who starts spouting off about how 420 was created by Snoop Dogg or some other theoretical bollocks, drop this OG certified knowledge on them.

Original Article