#prophet's headphones

[aemiron-main]

Victor’s Reflection Looks Like Michael Myers’ Mask And It’s Not A Coincidence- And It Ties To Timeline Theory Stuff

So, that shot of Victor seeing his reflection in the bathtub has haunted me FOREVER, and I couldn’t quite figure out why until now.

But then it hit me- his face & specifically the way it’s lit in this shot, REALLY resembles the Michael Myers mask:

And if you think that’s a stretch, keep in mind that Wayne directly compares Victor to Michael Myers:

And speaking of Victor being compared to Michael Myers, this is where timeline theory stuff comes in- because the Halloween movie franchise has five different timelines, and specifically, has timelines where the murders occur on different dates, which tracks with what I talked about here with the Creel murder dates being on different days in the Henry timeline vs the Edward timeline (in Edward’s timeline, the murders happened on March 21st, in Henry’s timeline, the murders happened on March 25th).

Yet again, even MORE evidence for multiple timelines. It literally never ends.

[ageless-aislynn]

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[toastsnaffler]

sometimes I wish I was a more interesting + charismatic person just so I could keep conversations going bc I like sharing space with other ppl but they routinely lose all interest and leave once I run out of things to say/start talking abt things that don't concern them :-(

[ratcash-wasgud]

Tragicomedy

okay gang, hear me out. ik most ppl who follow me are here for bes but PLLLLSSSSS

this came to me in a dream and i feel like i would fail as prophet if i didn't deliver it

anyways, enjoy.

art major!ellie x reader vs rugby player!abby x reader.

a.n.:Okay, before we start, the reader will get a little specific (like in my other works, lmao). plus tw for homophobia.

Part 2 is done!!!

"Ellie Williams"

Ellie started at her own signature under a painting in the hall of the school. Her college had a small exhibition of the art major student's works, and she submitted a painting of a flower she saw in the nearby park, and the butterfly which is supposed to symbolize...well, you. When other people ask, it symbolizes love and freedom though, but it's wings are strangely the same colour as your eyes, and it's spots are the same as your hair.

She only chose this painting because she somehow hoped you'd come, compliment her painting, then she'll ask you out on a date to her favourite cafe, then boom! Marriage. Or that's Dina's plan, actually. Ellie knew it was stupid. You'd never like her. Why? Easy. Abby Anderson has her eyes on you as well, and who wouldn't chose the female rugby team's captain? Exactly.

Even if Abby is straight, Ellie sees the was she looks at you. You are the that cute girl who hangs around campus alone, reading a book, wearing headphones, or just casually taking pictures of flowers and bugs. Nobody could resist your cuteness, and Ellie feels like the whole thing is a personal attack towards her. She tried talking to you a couple times, and turns out you're also very friendly. She has a couple common interests with you, like comic books. Life was good for a couple days when she could just randomly bump into you (tottaly not on purpose), holding a comic you purposely talked about, then she could blow away almost two hours for you and her nerding out about said comic. But then?

Abby came in the picture. She suddenly started to appear next to you on multiple occasions, throwing her meaty arms around you, doing that stupid, cocky smirk of hers. And what do you do? You giggle at her stupid jokes.

What Ellie didn't know, on the other hand, is that Abby was nothing like how people precieved her as. Yeah, sure, she was a rugby player who was kind of a jock, but she wasn't cocky. If anything, she was more like a big puppy, who happened loved hamburgers and tackling people. It's not her fault it's fun. She also happened to like pretty girls.

Not the girls the rugby team would usually get associated with, the ones with short skirts, perfect hair or long, clack-y nails. She did like those things though, but she learned that she has a type.

A type for cute girls with a nose and eyes that wrinkle up when they smile, who paint cute shit on their nails, and the ones who still own, and name their stuffed animals. And surprise surprise, you fit that type perfectly.

Abby knew that too. That's why she got attached to your hip out of the blue. She found out about you through Mel, who was her roomate and your coworker at your partime job at this rundown diner.

But Abby knew she had to stay in her lane. She comes from a small town, full of old fashioned people, so she knows how little the chance is of you actually being into women. She never did anything risky or too touchy. Plus, she was kind of knew into this whole gay thing. She realized stuff kind of late. She has a disadvantage against all the cool gay women she say around campus, proudly wearing their pride pins, or holding hands in the halls.

She thinks if she did anything like that, she'd just get called a dyke by her teammates and her family. She never even did anything with a woman before. She knows how to do it, obviously she has internet, but still...just the thought of actually owning a strap kind of makes her nervous.

But Ellie knows what's up. She had a girlfriends before. She even owns toys just for the purpose of pleasing women. She's even out, so most people know about her lesbian intentions when she talks to a girl she finds attractive. But not withouth a price though. She did get called slurs before, and by Abby's circle too, so she has solid reasons to hate the whole friendgrounp. Even if Abby herself never said anything, she still stood there, arms crossed and eyebrows scrunched up. And now, she tries to cling to the one girl Ellie had a genuine crush on since highschool? That's not fair. It's targeted, even.

It has to a be a hatecrime or something.

"It's the library, not a gym, Anderson. You must be confused, get lost." Ellie says with a scowl as she puts her finger between the pages of a comic book she has been explaining to you.

It's the first time she had found you alone in weeks, and she just has to spawn herself into the situation. Of course.

"Oh, get fucked, Williams." Abby shoots her a glare before putting her hand on the table you two are sitting at, and looming behind you. "Sorry, I was rudely interrupted before I could...you know, say hi." She says to you with a corny smile.

Ellie can't help but roll her eyes.

"Hi to you too." You smile lightly, putting your own comic book into your lap. You're especially pretty today, Abby thinks. She wonders if it's because of someone.

"So...you know, I was wondering if you'd wanna...uhh..." Abby takes a deep breath as she rubs her arm, but doing as casually as she can. "Come with me to that cute lil' diner down the street. I actually have a cupon for free milkshakes."

Ellie purses her lips and glares.

"She works at a diner, dumbass, I don't think she wants to spend her free time in one too," She says, now the page of the comic is forgotten as she crosses her arms. "I'm sure she'd like a place like...the amusement park more. It just happens that I have tickets for the weekend." Boom. Ellie smirks internally.

"The amusement park?" You perk up, cute bambi eyes widening. You seemed to like that idea. "Yeah! We should go together." You smile and Ellie feels like a whole storm just blew a bunch of flowers into her face. It's lovely, really. Until, "Right, Abby?"

Huh? You meant...all three of you?

Abby looks just as shocked as Ellie, and does her best to act nonchalant. "Yeah, sure. But I won't carry you after you die on a rollercoaster." She snickers, shooting Ellie a siteating grin.

Both women knew they couldn't decline this stupid three-way date, since they couldn't actually invite you anywhere on their own. So, amusement park it was.

The weekend came, and to you, it was such a nice day. You didn't have friends ever since you started college, but now, you actually felt appritiated. Like you belong.

It started with you meeting Ellie at the diner, then Abby coming to pick both of you up with her truck. The day was spent with you convinving both of them for silly rides you wanted to try. The problem was, that there were usually 2 people fitting seats. You didn't want either of them to feel left out, so you made them sit together, and you sat before them. The whole day felt like a damn comedy.

"Look, churros!" You cheer as you spot a booth with one of your favourite snacks after not really eating anything that day. Ellie, almost throwing up after that last ride, grimaces at the sight, while Abby steps forward, already reaching for her wallet.

"Want me to buy you some?" She asks, standing beside you as she points at one of the flavors. Meanwhile, Ellie suddenly perks up, not wanting to get left behind. "I could get you a slushie to go along with it. Churros here are usually pretty dry." Abby rewards this attemt with a side-eye.

Then a pair of men, holding hands, also approach the booth, smiling to eachother and discussing what they should get. Abby glances their way, seeing their way of holding eachother's hands, and she reaches out slowly, her hand brushing against your's, just when a middle aged man walks by the booth, and sadly opens his mouth. "Fags nowadays. They're everywhere, damn it. There's kids here."

Abby suddenly freezes. Her hand imidiately back in her pocket, and she just stares at her wallet. She feels her feet grow roots into the ground, and suddenly she hears the same phrase in her father's voice. This is a random Saturday, the sun is shining, there are people in love, but it's still...

"Your breath is everywhere too dude. What a stench" Ellie's voice brings her back to reality, and her snaps at the auburn haired woman, fearlessly, glaring at the man.

She didn't know Williams could be...brave? Mmm, not the right word. Proud? Maybe.

Meanwhile, Ellie is fuming. This random ass dude tries to ruin her only chance she has with her crush by ruining the whole mood. She's not having that. She sees the two guys glance at her, and send a smile her way as she flips the middle aged bigot off one last time before he disappears.

She quickly jerks her face back to you, and what she sees it...Abby with tears shimmering in her eyes, and you standing befor her, cupping her face and stroking her arm. It's a horrible sight. Your soft hands don't belong on that burly surfice. Ellie feels like she's left behind.

Meanwhile Abby is panicking. It's over, you saw her cry, she must be the lamest person ever right now. She has embarrased herself before the first girl she has ever liked just because she's a coward, because even the hint of being judged that way scares her to death.

In the end, both women's worst fears somehow came true.

Ellie losing to Abby, while Abby losing to her fears. What a tragedy.

But you? To you, this day was the realest thing you have felt since college started. You have learned that the nerdy art student is fierce, and that the captain of the rugby team can cry. You are attached now, and there's no escape.

Meanwhile Ellie and Abby feel like sinking into the ground with broken hopes, they don't know that you will ask to hang out again pretty soon.

[creepy-friday]

Can I make a request? Headcanons or a little Oneshot idk of Alastor x Wife!reader? Both being couple goals like Morticia and Gómez. Being evil together, like a good old classical couple 👉👈🥺

Alastor x Wife!Reader

I can see the reader symbolic animal being a crow/bat,and being able to manipulate/manifest them in both physical and shadow form

they would get along with Alastor's manifestations,sometimes he would pet them,have them around whenever you're not since he craves presence

both of you play spooky little tricks on the other demons such as making things levitate,opening the doors,flicking the lights,it's truly amusing seeing the undead fear the ..well..undead

you would give "soft nightmares" to someone then said someone would think they're prophetic and Alastor would further convince them they are just so that they make a deal with him to keep them safe from absolutely nothing

both of you give each other the side eye everytime something happens that both of you don't agree on

he has a shadow attached to you and inevitably the said shadow would try to woo you every chance he has

the "microphone" he has also has to be a little bit oblivious at times.

Both of you sit in complete silence,just enjoying each others presence while doing your own thing then suddenly his mic opens his little eye "what a lovely couple both of you are,what were the odds for both of you to be silent in bed!" Alastor chuckles and you let out an annoyed giggle "did you hear that,dear?" you ask him,putting your chore aside.

"Of course,just don't mind him,but for real now,what were the odds?" he continues to joke about it."No.That was the sound of a fucking divorce." you joke in return making him even more flustered and talkative,getting him all touchy feely with you

for real now,the word "divorce" makes him a top comedian,cook,lover and everything in between,even if it's in the context of a joke,he wouldn't want to lose you

if your personality tends to be more introverted/melancholic he would 100% take it as a challange and would do everything in his power to get you to do something completely out of your character

he never calls you by your name(except for serious occasions/spicy ones,if you know what I mean) but rather uses pet names such as "Honey";"Dear";"Darling"; "Cara mia"

uses every opportunity to dance with you whenever a good song is playing

you don't have to be shy with him,his mischievous personality will totally use it to his benefit and tease the living hell out of you

I have this lil' headcanon that if the both of you are listening in to a conversation and if you can't hear,he would manifest some old headphones to hear better "here you go,darling"

"Husk is adorable" you sing,trying to pet the man in question "Well,I say he looks completely utterly miserable!Of course you find him adorable!" Alastor laughs,bringing his one sided friend closer to your reach

asks your opinion on every important decision he has to make even if he is already sure about what to do.If you have a different view on it he will definitely reconsider

Angel Dust would be all sighs,puffs and "get a room" just because the two of you do simple romantic gestures such as Alastor's gentlemanly behaviour of kissing your hand and such

Vaggie's tolerance of Alastor drops to 0,but she adores enjoys your presence.She wishes both of you would have more time together but your husband always needs to barge in and annoy the living hell out of her.Alastor doesn't really likes her so he wouldn't want you around her that much

dark humour that leaves everyone poker face except the two of you

he doesn't except much from you tbh,just the same old love to be reciprocated

[despacito-uwu16]

The Falling Action

Kenji Sato x Journalist! Reader

Enemies To Lovers | Foced Proximity | Pining

A/N: Thus chapter is a tad angsty. Also, the plot line from the film slightly changed, so in this case his dad doesn’t make an appearance in this series”.

<- prev next ->

That night, you were talking false prophets and profits they make in the margins of poetry sonnets. You never read up on it, shame could've learned something.

Us by Gracie Abrams ft Taylor Swift

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺

You were at the library studying for your journalism exam next week. With the editor finally taking you seriously and letting you cover more games, and finals coming up, you were stressed out.

While reviewing your notes, you felt the table slightly shake, along with the sound of something slammed onto the table. You look up to see an angry Kenji Sato looking down at you. You took your headphones off and looked at him up and down.

“Can I help you”? You deadpanned.

“What the fuck is this”? He point at the paper that he slammed on the table.

“Kenji Sato, the next irrelevance in baseball”

“My truth”?

“It’s just one game Y/N, ONE. FUCKING. GAME”! He slams his fist on the table, unfazing you.

“So? I report what I see”.

“Do you realize what this does to my career? My status on the team is on the line, my reputation, is about to be in shambles. Nobody is gonna sign me because of you”! Kenji raised his voice to the point where he was grabbing the attention of everyone around the two of you.

“If you don’t like what you see, you should try harder next time”. you retorted.

He lets out a laugh. “You know, I don’t even know why I came here in the first place. Considering the person who wrote this knows how to sleep her way through a sports team”.

You stood up angrily, slamming your hands onto the table.

“I work to get what I want. Between the two of us, I don’t sleep with other people just to increase a body count”.

“At least I have natural talent”

“At least I don’t talk shit about another girl to their roommate while she watches”.

Ken stood there in silence. Everyone was staring at the two of you. A couple of bystanders were whispering to each other and side eyeing you.

“Now if you excuse me, some of us are trying to survive finals week”. You sat back down and put your headphones back on, turning up the volume of your music.

Kenji growled, snatching the paper off the table and walking away. But then he turns back to you.

“I’ll show you. Just wait and see. I’ll become the greatest living player! Then we’ll see who the irrelevant one is”.

“Mhm, keep telling yourself that”.

~

Your faced turned white as a ghost as you come face to face with a baby kaiju. You wanted to run, but your feet were glued to the floor, and your knees locked itself.

“Y/N? I can explain”. You hear Kenji say.

He tried to calm you down, but you tuned him out and you still stood there in fear while the Kaiju chirps happily at you.

“W-W-Why is there a kaiju in your basement”? You whisper.

The Kaiju approaches you slowly, curious about the tiny person in front of her.

“Please don’t eat me”. You cried.

“It’s okay, she’s harmless”. He reassures you.

You slowly approach the kaiju, hesitant to touch her. She crouched down to your level, consenting for you to pat her head. You gently pat her head, making her chirp. You and Kenji smile as she clapped and jumped happily.

~

“Why did you go down to the basement when I told you not to”? He interrogated you while you sipped on your coffee.

“The more important question here is why are you keeping a kaiju in your basement”? You gestured to the baby pink lizard that’s now sleeping in the containment tube. Kenji sighs, running his hands through his hair. You slowly turn to him, the realization hitting you.

“Holy shit”.

Kenji didn’t look at you.

“HOLY SHIT”

“Theres a lot more to it than you think. But promise me you won’t tell anybody about this”. He pleaded.

You sat up straight. You took your phone out of your pocket and you shut it off right in front of him. You then put it down on the table.

“You have my word”.

He goes on to explain what’s been going on the past few months. He tells you about taking his father’s place as Ultraman, which explains the excess damage in the city. He also tells you how he rescued the baby kaiju from the KDF and how he’s been trying to raise her alone.

“So the reason why you’ve been off your game lately is because you were taking care of the baby”? You ask.

“Yeah. It’s part of being Ultraman I guess”. He shrugged.

“That explains a lot of things”. The room fell silent for a moment before Kenji spoke up.

“You’re not going to add this to your article are you”? He worries.

“Ken, I’m not that inhumane. I promise you, I won’t tell anyone”. You said.

“Thank you”. Kenji sighs in relief.

“Does she have a name”?

“No, her name is just baby”.

“You’ve been taking care of a baby kaiju for two months, and you haven’t thought about giving her a name”?

“Well, I don’t see you giving me ideas”.

You sigh, you pinched the bridge of your nose and shook your head.

“I really am trying my best. With baseball, with raising “baby”, with everything. I want people to know that I want to be the best player and the best hero, but it’s hard when you really can’t tell anyone. It just feels so”…

“Isolating”?

“Yeah, also, the KDF is on my ass and well, my dad isn’t really around, so”..

You look at him with pity. Kenji was looking down at the ground, not knowing how to handle anything anymore. You scoot next to him and take his hand.

“Y’know, you don’t have to do this alone. If you need help, then I can step in. As much as I like seeing you suffer, I don’t want you to suffer.”

Kenji’s eyes widened. “Wow, you actually do care”. He said in disbelief. You roll your eyes. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll look over her”.

“You sure, I mean she’s kind of”-

“Good night Kenji”. You say, picking up a magazine and putting your legs on the table.

Kenji stared at you in bewilderment. He feared the day that you would find out and expose him in the tabloids. But to his surprise, you were more accepting, more human. He left the basement feeling much calmer, knowing that you’re ready to show up for him.

~

For the past 3 weeks, you kept your promises and helped Kenji take care of the baby kaiju (that you both named Emi) while he juggles his baseball career and his Ultraman duties.

While he caught up on sleep, you fed Emi her late night snacks and read her bed time stories.

While he was out, you cooked him healthy meals and prepare some heating packs incase he comes home with sore muscles. Everytime Kenji comes home in the evening, he would always look forward to the food that’s on the table. Whenever you weren’t busy with your job, he would ask you to have dinner with him. During those times, you guys would have a casual conversation. No forced interviews, no bickering or throwing insults. When it came to the interviews, he started to become more vulnerable. The exchange didn’t feel forced, and he became more genuine with you. What felt like a hundred year feud came to a close, and the two of you started to become friends.

You’ve noticed a huge change in Ken. He became a leader for his team, and a better hero for the city. Whenever the two of you bond, he showed off his softer side, a side you’ve grown to love.

Ken was very grateful for you. Although he hasn’t showed it, he’s glad to have you around. It made him smile whenever he sees you and Emi bonding. There was something about you that made his heart beat skip a beat. The way you would laugh at his attempts to make an actual joke during the interview session. Or the way you would passionately talking about the games you’ve been to when you went abroad.

The two of you know that your time with Ken is short lived. But deep down, Ken doesn’t know what he would do when you leave.

~

Kenji walked into the basement to find you sitting couch typing away on your laptop while looking after a sleeping Emi. It warmed Kenji’s heart that you were so accepting of Emi and everything else that has been going on.

You look up from your laptop and smile. “I’ve finished the revisions. Wanna take a look”? You give him your laptop. Kenji takes it from you and skims it.

“Inside Ken Sato’s Space”

Kenji skims each paragraph while quickly scrolling down, stopping at the last paragraph.

“What we all thought was an arrogant athlete, turns out to be a guy with a misunderstood, soft heart. Ken Sato has grown up, not only as an athlete, but as a human being. His newfound maturity has led to the giants to win after win. His leadership and confidence has not only impacted everyone on and off the field, but also in himself. His attitude continues to impact the Giants as they head to the championship game”.

“It’s perfect”. He smiled, handing your laptop back.

You scroll to the top of the page and hovered over the post now button.

“And posted”! You said as you closed your laptop. Kenji looks at you with so much admiration.

“What, you think it’s too cheesy”? You tease. Kenji laughs.

“No, no. I just… I never got to say thank you. For helping me with Emi, and for not taking a chance on me”.

“You don’t have to thank me. Emi is the sweetest”. You say as you filed your documents into a folder.

“Anyways, I was just thinking, I should take you out for dinner. As a thank you for tolerating for the past 2 months”.

“As much as I love being treated to a 5 star michelin restaurant, I think I know a better way to celebrate”.

~

You flipped the grilled cheese on the pan and turned off the stove. But before you could put it on the plate, Kenji takes it from the pan and takes a bite.

“Ah hot”! He yelps. You laughed at him as he throws the grilled cheese onto the porcelain plate.

“You really don’t learn from your mistakes”. You laugh.

“Hey, I’m just hungry”. He pouts.

You notice the crumbs at the corner of Kenji’s mouth and gently brushes it off. Kenji leans into your touch as he stares into your (e/c) eyes. Your breath hitched as his face inches closer to you. Your heart beats faster, waiting for him to make a move. But before you both could do anything, his watch started beeping. He looks down to see live camera footage of Emi, now awake from her nap.

“I should go check on her”. He says.

“I’ll wash the dishes”. You said, starting to grab the pan and knife from the stove.

~

You were putting the clean dishes onto the dish rack when you hear your phone ringing in the living room. You walked up to grab it, and when you turned it over, the adrenaline rushes through your body when you realize your boss was calling.

“Hi Daryl”. You immediately answer

“Y/N, have you checked your article? Your boss asks.

“Why, is there something wrong with it”? You ask.

“Just look at it”. Daryl demanded.

You looked at the website where your article was published, and your eyes widened.

900 K likes; 750 comments

“It hasn’t been 24 hours”.

“Well, believe it. Cause you did that Y/N. The company has been getting a lot of new subscribers for the sports page. Which leads me to another thing, my supervisor loves your work so much, that they want you to work a 2 year residency at the Norwegian office.

“Wait, Norway”?

“Yes, Y/N. Consider it a promotion. You definitely deserve it”. Daryl says.

You almost jumped for joy. It’s always been your dream to work in Norway. That’s where all of the best soccer and volleyball teams are. You managed to contain yourself before you freak out the whole house.

“You’re expected to start next month, until then, keep up the good work”. He says.

“Thank you, I promise I won’t let you down”. You say before Daryl hangs up.

You began to jump up and down and squealed with excitement. You’re finally getting the life you wanted, and there was nothing holding you back.

“Who was that”? You turn to see Kenji walking out of the elevator.

“That was my boss, Daryl”.

“Was there something wrong with the article”? Kenji asks.

“No, in fact, look how much reception it got”! You showed him the article on your phone. His eyes widened with the

“Wow, that is a lot of likes”. His eyes widened.

“I know, and it’s been only five hours”! You smiled ear to ear. “And the best part is, I’m offered a 2 year residency in Norway”!

“So you’re leaving again”?

“Well, yeah”.

Kenji’s smile faded. He was so used to having you here, but now you’re leaving again. To him, it felt like college all over again.

“Kenji”? He looks up at you.

“Are you okay”?

Kenji gives you a small smile. He puts his hand on your shoulder. “I’m happy for you, Y/N”.

You smiled back at him. “Thank you, Kenji”.

What you thought was a happy moment turned cold and distant during your final week with Kenji.

He would go out at night, and wouldn’t come back until early morning, blaming it on “ultraman duty”.

Whenever you tried to talk to him, he would either give you a short response or just not respond at all. And every time you walk in a room, Kenji would just leave.

One day, you were at the dining table, finalizing paperwork for Milan while eating some maple & brown sugar oatmeal. Kenji walked in the kitchen, not realizing you were there.

“Kenji”?

He didn’t look at you as he walked up to the fridge.

“I made some oatmeal. Do you want some”?

He grabbed his energy drink from the fridge and walked out of the kitchen. You got up and walked after him. You caught up with him, and blocked his path.

“Okay, what is going on with you? You’ve been straight up ignoring me for the last few days. What’s going on with you”?

“Nothing, Y/N”. Kenji begins to walk away. But you push him back.

“Kenji, please. Whatever I did wrong, please, just tell me”.

“What’s bothering me is that you’re leaving, again”.

“What are you talking about”?

“You have everything you wanted. You got everything right here. You don’t need Norway to prove a point”.

“This is MY career, Kenji. My life. I’ve built my whole life on my work, and I’m not letting you get in my way”.

“So I’m just another stepping stone for you huh”? He scoffs. “If only your college self could see you now”. He says with sarcasm.

Your eyes widened. “Wow, and here I thought you finally grew up”. You folded your arms”. “You’re so shallow”.

“And you’re just a pain in my ass”. Kenji retorts.

There was silence between the two of you. What you thought was a progressing friendship was now destroyed, pushing you both back to square one.

“This was a mistake. You should’ve left when you got the chance”. Kenji mutters

“And then what? If I did leave, were you going to blackmail me again”?

He looks up at you, meeting your (eye color) eyes. You stared him down with anger and disgust.

“For all I care, you can expose me whenever the fuck you want. I don’t care what people think of me, and I’m not scared of you”.

He knew he shouldn’t have put you up to this. That this whole interview process was a mistake. He hurt you and himself, and all he could do now is deal with the collateral damage.

“I want you out of here by tomorrow morning”.

“I’ll do you one better, I’ll leave right now”. You walk past him and entered the guest room. Kenji flinched at the sound of the door slamming shut.

~

You put the last suitcase in the trunk and closed the trunk door. Before you went in your car, you stared at the front door, hoping that Ken would apologize and ask you to come back in. But you shrug the expectation off and drove off.

As you drove into the city, you start to tear up. The interview was merely an assignment, so why is this affecting you so much?

“You don’t need Norway to prove a point”.

You hated Ken, you hated the way he roped you into this mess, how he played with your feelings again. But your heart screamed, “GO BACK”, while your head told you to press the gas pedal harder.

~

Kenji enters the basement where the baby kaiju was waiting for the both of you. She chirps with glee when she sees Kenji, and then she looks around for you.

“She’s not coming back”. He sighs, sitting down on the steps next to the baby’s containment unit. Her smile fades. She lets out a little whimper.

“I’m sorry Emi. I scared her off, and I don’t know how to fix this”. Kenji sat next to Emi and put his head in his arms. She settles down next to him in hopes of comforting her father. He leaned onto Emi, resting his head on her arm. It made him feel a little better, but the pain ran deeper in his heart. He had so many opportunities to tell you how he felt about you, but now you slipped through his fingers again.

“Nice going Ken”.

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺

Likes, Comments and Reblogs are always appreciated!!

A/N: By the time this gets posted, I’ll be on my way to Japan (ultradaddy here i come 🤭). See you all in the finale tomorrow :)

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺

Tag List

@imconfusedbutok

@deadbydad-writes

@introvertthief

@rdjsprincess

@boomboom-tanjiro2019

@moyadorogaya

@holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni

@lovingyeet

@ofichan

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⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺

[pukicho]

So puki you make music, whats your setup like? Audio interface, software, etc etc. Askin cuz I wanna get into the scene

Well I wanna preface this with a few things!! I have spent 90% of my money on music stuff! I love it and have spent like 13 years acquiring this shit, but here is my studio from like 6 months ago

A FEW THINGS HAVE CHANGED SINCE THIS! I no longer have the Pro 3 and swapped it for… nothing! I just sold it, also I cleaned up those cables.

To keep it simple, I have an Apollo x8 audio interface, its the best sounding interface I’ve ever owned, all my synths go into the Apollo, I don’t have a mixer but I 100% need one, I have so many little synths not in use as a result of my lack of inputs!! I have an 8 channel midi host hidden behind some shit, and that really fucking helps. For the love of god don’t use USB midi for big synth setups like mine, it sucks. It pays to learn MIDI shit.

My current synth tower includes the Moog Matriarch, Udo Super 6 and the prophet 6 - under the desk is my OB6! I also own a few doodads like the elektron octatrak mk2, the eowave quadrantid swarm and the 0-coast - I use Adam A77x speakers and some nice headphones!

This is all stupid overkill and not necessary to make good music, I am just a whore, and I have lofty plans and projects! All u need is a focusrite (or a UA volt preferably, sounds better) a good vst like serum or vital (free serum but less presets and worse effects) and some samples u can get from splice or some shit - and maybe a nice MIDI controller - as for daws I suggest FL since its great for learning, or ableton if you plan on going ham with beat making, logic is also a beast for apple users. Most importantly, have fun and don’t be a dick. Also if u think ur music is good 2 years in, it probably isn’t, always something to learn. Byebye

[hobiespick]

Sam Winchester x reader headcanons part 3

<33

a/n: heyyyyyy I had so much fun writting these. I am literally shaking as we speak cuz i'm still kinda shy abt this even tho yall showed me sm love and gave so much positive feedback on the first 2 parts I was giggling, blushing, and twirling my invisible phone cord. Thank you all so much for everything and enjoy my shitty thoughts 🫶💞 + tagging a lovely person who gave me the idea of writting one of these @yinorathedragontamer

Summary/Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, Sam Winchester x gn!reader , Sam being the biggest boyfriend of all boyfriends (im quoting one of my moots), the first headcanon isn't sam x reader it's Jess x Sam (rip to the hottest couple) the headcanon came to me in a prophetic vision and i just had to leave it here, mention of Sam's childhood + I couldn't help myself but make a few headcanons about Dean too.

- I have a deep feeling (i'm an empath) that around college when he was with Jess and he wouldn't leave her side, Sam accidentally got adopted by her girl group of friends - hear me out - he would cling to Jess for his dear life shaking and not wanting to intrude or make him look nosy and Jess's girlfriends wouldn't bat an eye, welcoming Sam with open arms and treating him the same - they are the reason his guilty pleasure is gossiping. One of Jess's (girl)friends coming hurriedly towards the group with a shocked expression and a hand covering her mouth and Sam already knows the tea is scrumptious - he probably got called "girl" so many times - he didn't mind it btw, actually kinda liked it because that means they included him - spreading my "Sam Winchester enjoys the company of female friends more than male ones agenda" like wildfire ‼️ - "wyd when me and my gang pull up" and it's five y2k girls + a preppy blonde girl whose boyfriend is some 6'4 emo kid with a Green Day tee who follows her around with heart eyes

- "Dean, move your leg or I'm throwing your fucking mixtapes out of the window" you threaten annoyed at the audacity of the long ass older Winchester to just stretch out as if you're not both (tired af) in the back seat of baby, you try to find a comfortable position for what feels like the 50th time to stay for a few hours untill all of you make it in one piece to Washington (Dean might not since he is acting like that). "You touch my mixtapes and I might throw you out of the window, runt." Dean barks (lovingly), lifting his sunglasses on his head and pointing a defensive finger at you. You are too tired to think and to retort something snarky back but still settle on rolling your eyes and giving his foot a kick.

Sam is driving like a princess in the front, his legs are streched out with his back comfortably resting against his seat with an arm lazily holding the steering wheel as the wind coming from the rolled window brushes some of his hair on his forhead, all while looking effortlessly handsome. "Don't make me come back there" Sam laughs breaking the character he wanted to play along as (hint: dads on road trips). Sam's pants would catch on fire if he said he was annoyed at your childish bickering with his brother, he found it endearing. It just added to the list of things he liked about you. You gasp a little bit too dramatically and gesture towards Dean "He started it" you grumble. Dean gives you a kick of his own pulling his sunglasses back down and crossing his arms, atleast he retreats his legs giving you enough space to rest yours.

- uses every excuse to touch you (his hands are literally twitching in anticipation to hold yours, or hug you)

- Dean is a classic rock etillist (he learned that from J*hn) but his guilty pleasure is nu metal especially limp bizkit. - he only listens when Sam isn't around. - says he's getting himself a little treat (fancy headphones) with his hard-earned money (poker/credit card fraud) - J*hn introduced him to led zeppelin and Dean feels like he's dissapointing him by not being a carbon copy of him hence his secrecy - So the "guilty pleasure" has deeper roots

- Sam told you he doesn't remember owning a childhood plushie, you fix that

- you open the door and close it with your foot, hands clinging to the bag you're holding to your chest after almost stumbling over. Sam's expression changes into a smile upon your arrival, kinda like a golden reriever. He gets up from the reasearch papers scatterred around the table no longer the center of his attention to greet you.

"Hey" the word 'sweetheart' almost sneaks out of his mouth but he contained himself with grace, god forbid he makes you uncomfortable (he's alot like you y'know? ). "Hi" you reply breathlessly due to your almost stunt and the fact that Dean took Baby out so you had to walk back to the motel in the humid weather of Washington. You take off your shoes and set the bag on the table, Sam's nosy self is itching to see what's inside. Before you open anything you make sure to peel off the hoodie you have on and rest it on a chair. "I got something but i need you to close your eyes and lay out your hands please." You start already bitting back a smile with a tinge of nervousness at what his reaction could be.

Yes, you got Sam a plushie. You got matching ones, the one for Sam is a brown moose with dark brown glass eyes that kept reminding you of him. The one you got for yourself is a same-zise moose plushie in your favourite color. What's even more cuter is that both of the plushies came as a package and they can stick their hands together with the magic of little pieces of square shaped tape on each their hands (hooves?). Sam is scared and excited at the same time. He will thank you for whatever you got him, he raised himself to be gratefull, it's just that growing up he learned and was usually met with dissapointment. John not showing up for his soccer game and neither Dean because he is hunting with him? Yeah he knows. Not even a call from his dad on his 21st birthday? Yeah he expected that. But he knows you, and the amount of times you have dissapointed him. (hint: zero)

So he does as you told him to. He extends his hand and turns it over, his other arm resting by his side. He closes his eyes and does not open them once. Sam was that kinda kid at the playground, so fair and by the rules it's almost suspicious. He can hear the noise of the brown paper bag crinkling and somehow imagine the sight of you smilling brightly, a sight that almost bribes him to open his eyes and see for himself. He focuses on the sound untill he feels the soft velvet material of the plushie in his hands. He doesn't even open his eyes yet he just furrows his eyebrows in confusion as his fingers pet the fabric of the stuffed animal.

You stand there, the biggest most nervous smile planted on your face as you wait for his verdict. "Sam, you can open your eyes now." you speak loud enough for him to hear, and he does open them, they glisten wet under the crappy motel room light. He has this mix of sadness and joy on his face at the same time as he cranes his neck to look down at the stuffed animal in his hands, he can envelope it entirely if he tried. You wish you could read thoughts right now, to make Sam open up his brain to you and show you how he feels about this, whether the reaction is negative or positive, you just want (need) to hear him speak, fuck, he can even yell at you if that is what he chooses to do (he wouldn't in a million years). Regret hits you like a hurricane after a few seconds of silence, that's the last thing you wanted to do, make Sam remember what a shitty childhood he had with just a stuffed animal, a fucking toy. The thought that this could come off as a reminder for him that's like 'Hey buddy, your childhood is so fucked up I felt sorry for you, here' didn't even occur you. All you wanted to do is give him something normal, to make him feel normal, a feeling he has been chasing all of his life. You bought two matching moose plushies with the thought that you're gonna match with your bestfriend, you're going to share some normalacy with your bestfriend in your world, your monsters are real world.

You wanted to build a time machine and rescue little Sam and Dean from the fucking monster John Winchester was. Yes, John Winchester loved his boys, but neglect and love don't mix. Leaving a 10 year old to look out for a 6 year old isn't love, taking your children with you to fucking hunt and kill fairy tale monsters isn't love. "Sam?" You call out quietly, nervousness already visible in your body language. Sam shots his head up at the mention of his name and most importantly the tone of your voice. He gives you a weak tight lipped smile (as if the sight would spare you having to worry about him, as if you don't feel the need to bang your head against a wall whenever you see Sam in any kind of pain) and wipes a tear that runs down his cheek with the cuff of his hoodie. "Sam- I'm sorry- I thought-" You justify yourself and attempt at swallowing the lump formed in your throat, you rub your sweaty palms on your jeans and feel like the biggest asshole in the world. You awkwardly take a step closer untill you take in consideration the idea that getting closer might be the last thing he needs right now so you step right back. Sam tears taste sweet, he can confirm it himself. The way you spent time and money going to provide him with something he was wrongfully stolen off of having when he was only a kid made him tear up in the spam of a few seconds. You asked, he answered, you felt sorry, he desperately wants you to comfort him, then you do something to make him feel appreciated/cherished. He glances at you and sees the state you're in. His legs instinctively take three long strides towards you and envelopes you in the most comforting embrace anyone has ever gave you. You don't need to be psychic or practice insane voodoo/hoodoo to know exactly how this made him feel, it's all in this hug. You hug him back and Sam starts rubbing circles with his index finger on your back, he is crying his eyes out and he's still comforting anyone but himself. You hear his sniffles as he agressively wipes his nose with his cuff. "Thank you" he croaks out, his tone hoarse and raspy. He rests his head on top of yours and you can feel him finally relax. You can also tell he has no intention of breaking the hug anytime soon but that is your last worry. You made Sam happy tonight and that's all it matters.

- you and Sam are the golden retriever + black cat duo the world needs. - grocery trips with him (he doesn't need anything, just wanted to go with you) that are fun and weirdly domestic. - it's all making jokes and finding eachother the snacks you usually eat untill someone bumps into him and HE apologizes. "Sorry" he says giving the dude that's shorter than him a tight lipped smile. The dude presses "Almost dropped my shit 'cause of you assh-" You cut him off by clearing your throat and making him turn around his face dropping as he notices your glare at him. "He said he was sorry." You chide (threaten) with a scarily blunt tone, you have no idea how someone can even dare to look the wrong way at Sam, he's too tall for his own good and he's built like a brick wall. "Whatever" the dude leaves scoffing , your expression softening as soon as your eyes settle on Sam. He has a stupid dorky look on his face and adoration in his eyes, his hands shoved in his jean pockets towering over you almost awkwardly. "Ugh. What is it today asshole day?" You joke breaking the silence, (yes, you're quoting kat stratford) Sam just laughs and nods, you could say it's Christmas and he would believe you. "Looks like it." He agrees, not even caring for that asshole that he could've handled himself just fine, he hunts monsters for a goddamn career. He just adores the way you jumped to take his side.

- expressing your wish to find or atleast thrift a brown carhartt jacket similar to Sam's, only for him to offer giving it to you whenever you wanna wear it. - "S'okay you can wear it i don't mind, you just have to ask me before, yeah?" - he also can't stop blushing at the sight of you in his already baggy jacket appearing more larger on you.

- the jacket engulfs you in this sense of security and an addictive smell of Sam (his fav earthy cologne) - the way you're looking good, happy, and warm in his jacket makes Sam's heart skip a few beats. - Dean smirks and compliments you, having to take a double look to confirm it's infact Sammy's jacket on you "Looking good, Y/n" he smiles and sends Sam a wink you're to oblivious to notice but you do notice the tone he uses, replying back skeptically "Thanks?" but you shrug it off asking Sam if he wants to come with you to this fast food place to bring back dinner.

- When Dean's brain cells put 2 and 2 togheter and realizes you and Sam are absolutely pining for eachother he purposefully does alot of stuff so you're stuck spending time with Sam and vice versa. It's either an easy move to make you two go out/stay in or it's a geniusly absolutely malefically strategically thinked and mastered 50 step plan that has atleast 20 plan B's in case anything goes wrong but we all know he doesn't need them, the mission goes smoothly each time. if Winchesters are anything, it's stubborn, incredibly and stupidly stubborn so Dean is not giving up on making one of you confess to eachother and if you don't he might take matters in his own hands and scream it out loud enough for You and Sammy to hear.

- he is so eager, the first time you kissed him he automatically assumed he's your boyfriend. - "Is that any way to speak with your boyfriend?" With a jokingly hurt face and a dramatically placed hand on his chest when you're being too mean. - "As your boyfriend and your lore boy.." - "I'm Sam, their boyfriend.." when he's introducing himself to person he knows has certain intentions with you or somebody making you uncomfortable.

- you pulled a muscle in your shoulder while on a hunt and stubbornly denied anything ever hurted even when Sam asked. - you keep rolling your shoulder when Sam says "Looks like you pulled something alright. You probably shouldn't move too much, you'll just make it worse." You scoffed at that, no way Sam for real? I had no idea I had to do that, thank god a smart boy like yourself is right beside me. "Are you mansplaining to me how to let a pulled muscle heal?" You retort, mainly because of the pain partially cause mansplaining is unnecessary and ignorant. And when Sam thought he couldn't like you any more than he already does you proved him wrong. He only chuckled, amused by your snarky reply, even going as far as to apreciate your attitude. "I'm not mansplaining anything, I'm just stating facts. Even a five year old could tell you that overusing a muscle will make the pain worse." He teased back.

- He enjoys the intimacy between the two of you when there are jokes and certain things you and him can laugh about because you're both huge nerds.

- Bobby let's you borrow whatever books you want from his huge ass library (mans probably got illegal books there)

- Bobby and Dean give eachother knowing looks whenever you and Sam literally do anything togheter, you and him pretend not to notice, not even mentioning it.

- guys i wanna cuddle with Sam Winchester so bad it's not even funny anymore *sobbing while my eyeliner mixed with tears is running down my face*

- he's a big cuddlebug I am willing to bet all my life savings and my first born he is. - the way you feel so safe and comforted when his light pole build wraps two arms around you, holding you close, trying to get you impossibly closer. - his hugs are the same, tender yet firm reflecting on his gentle nature. - just spoons you when he finds you on the couch sleeping with a bunch of research papers scattered and dusty old books around you which he tosses aside, because he is too proud to ask for cuddles.

- you wake up in the middle of the night you have no idea what time is it, you have one missing sock, your throat is dry, and you feel an arm draped over your waist getting tighter around you the more you twist around. And that's when you hear it, it's right next to your ear, Sam's low sleepy hum as he stirrs behind you, nudging his face deeper into your neck. You have no choice but to lay there untill he wakes up 'cause there is no escaping.

a/n: again i'm posting this shaking, this took so long I was scared I wasn't gonna finish it. They are so long they might not classify as headcanons but i couldn't care less. The plushie one made me feel like hamilton while writting it lmaoo. Hope yall enjoyed!! 💞 feedback would be very much appreciated<33

[sha-ka-re]

I’m gonna have a nice evening and watch Star Trek: Deep Space 9 ™️ on Netflix ™️! Let me put on my nice high quality headphones and boot up an episode!… Looks like I left off at Season 3, Episode 16: Prophet Motive. Sounds good! I’ve got my cozy pajamas on, I’ve got the lights down, I am snuggled in bed. I’m ready to watch this intriguing and well written entry in the Trek franchise! Let’s press play!

*IMMEDIATE LOUD SEX MOANS FROM QUARK GETTING AN EARJOB*

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Lilt

Chapter Eight

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Ash, Sam/Madison, Pamela, Lee, Kevin, Bobby, Frank, Tiny, Annie, and Dawn the bartender (Adam, Ellen and John/Kate mentioned)

Word Count: 2116

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, mild drug use, minor jealous Dean, drinking, Dean gets a little existential and realizes he might have fucked up, unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

Divider courtesy of @cafekitsune

The haze of the control room wasn’t noticeable the longer they sat in the small room facing Pam, Lee and Sam getting down the new track Lee wrote through the glass. Dean bobbed his head, bong braced against his lap, as Ash hummed in appreciation, eyes closed and headphones on. Kevin had wandered off to a smaller studio to work out a solo they wanted to put into “Prophet and Loss”. After that and "Hand Me My Axe", which Lee was shredding on at the moment, they’d have a full thirteen for the album. They’d already recorded the bonus acoustic versions of “Brother’s Keeper” and “Baby” for the deluxe editions.

Thank fuck those were behind him, because Dean cried through both of those sessions and Sam would never let him live it down, despite the sasquatch also getting misty during his verses. The fact that Sam wrote his own part and Dean didn’t know what it was going to convey until they were in the box, well, that was just unfair. He blamed it on Sam’s singing, because dude was not a vocalist, but really it had been a lot to hear what Sam went through when Dean was busy self-destructing. 

Whatever, Dean was in touch with his emotions now, who cared?

The finish line on this album was rapidly approaching and Dean was more stoked than he thought he’d be at doing something completely without Cas’ influence. Though he still heard Cas’ voice admonishing him sometimes, it had taken on a nostalgic tone the last couple of days. The music wasn’t the same without Cas, but it didn’t make it worse. 

God, did he miss him though.

Dean cleared his throat and took a hit, letting the mixed emotions have their moment until he carefully blew them all away. Lee was on fire and it was such a mesmerizing thing to watch him play as an audience member and not a collaborator. Sometimes he forgot how good his band was objectively speaking. The music and the energy of performing took over and they meshed making something magical, but beyond that Lee was a fucking genius on six-to-twelve strings.

They spent another twenty minutes laying it down and then broke for lunch. Dean checked his phone as Kevin and Ash hauled in the bags of take out that had been delivered to the front desk. Frank only let the local Chinese place deliver directly to the building, so it had become a weekly ritual instead of them constantly having to go out and find themselves sustenance in the middle of recording. Though Dean was slowly getting sick of it.

He had a couple of messages in their brother group chat from Adam about Christmas. The poor kid was stuck playing the messenger because Kate couldn’t bother to call him or Sam herself. There was a meme from Bela, of all things, and a check in from Ellen. Nothing from you. He thumbed down to the band business chat to see if you had at least been active there, but there was nothing since the shot of Crowley’s flowers.

At first they had thrown Dean for a loop, or a mild case of envy. Because he thought they were from that stupid gym rat waiter that had been hitting on you when he was trying to get to know Bela. But once he realized what chat it was in, it all made sense. Even if the weight of the flowers’ significance was lost on most of the band. 

Huh. Dean thumbed to your one-on-one conversation and sent out a simple “Everything going okay?” It was weird he hadn’t heard from you, especially after you bowed out of his home cooked, post-adoption-event dinner. He squinted, realizing he hadn’t talked to you in over a week, since the morning of Bela’s charity gig.

Since he’d gone down on your best friend in the back of a limo.

Christ, way to be an entire dumbass.

The energy in the studio rallied, laughter and teasing rebounding after a slow start to their final day. Kevin had somehow got everyone to gang up on Sam, who now had a collection of post-it notes both insulting him and begging for violence slapped across his back. Dean took a pull off the bottle Lee had handed him and smirked as they watched Pamela saunter over to where Sam was checking his phone. 

She pinched Sam’s waist, which made him turn and back away from her, hands up in defense as she muttered some of her bullshit. Which left Sam’s back undefended.

“Oh, man, this is almost too easy,” Lee whispered.

“Tell me about it,” Dean agreed, chuckling as Kevin slipped another square of embarrassment onto Sam’s shoulder, butting into Sam and Pam’s conversation with a smoothness Dean had never expected out of the Juilliard graduate.

He handed the bottle back to Lee and pulled his guitar around and laid on a G chord, bringing everyone back to reality. “Alright, last song. Let’s fucking do it.”

The bass and drum parts were already locked in as far as Dean was concerned. Vocals finished yesterday. but hearing it all together made the music what it was. He wanted this one all at once, the final piece to the puzzle of this impossible album. Ash was at the controls, behind him was Bobby and Frank, who had shown up for the last leg of recording. Each nursing their own glass of stupidly expensive Scotch.

It was so close to done, Dean couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips as he stepped up to the mic that wasn’t even recording. And waited until Pamela counted them in. Every sensation zeroed into that moment, the strings beneath his finger tips, the weight of his guitar strap, the earpiece in his ear, the carpet beneath his boots and the pick in his right hand. He closed his eyes and felt it. 

And when he hit his entrance, he unleashed, nailing the take with his band at his side, crossing the finish line together.

“Charrrrlie!” Dean purred into the phone. “Your presence is requested at that one dive bar you like so much past Silver Lake. We wrapped today and you owe me a few rounds, your highness!”

Sam shoved Dean playfully and reached past the backseat for a bottle of water out of the cooler. Nerd. 

“Sam says hi. Oh! Pick up Trouble and bring her with you, will ya? She’s been radio silent all week. Anyways, this message is about to cut out. But I know where you live and I will—” Dean lost the race with the time limit. He pressed the button to accept the message, however truncated and hung up.

Sam wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand. “The other driver knows where to go?”

“Don’t worry, Tiny will get everybody there and back safe, won’t ya big guy?” Dean teased the unamused man that sometimes doubled as security for the label.

“We’re all set Mr. Winchester,” Tiny answered Sam with a glance in the rearview mirror.

Fifteen minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of an unimpressive neighborhood bar ten blocks east of anything that had gentrified. Not a bouncer or a pap in sight, thank fuck. Dean plunked his half finished beer into a cup holder and held the door open for Sam to get out, still giggling at the few remaining scraps of paper that had made it back onto his shirt after he found them when he unhooked his bass.

They met Lee, Kevin, Pam and Bobby at the other provided black SUV before heading inside. The bar was dark for a sunny December workday afternoon in southern California, but the stale beer smell and the sight of well worn pool tables felt like home more than any vegan, new age-y, upstart lounge ever did. 

“Dibs on first game!” Dean called over his shoulder as he made his way to the bar to open a tab before Bobby could beat him to it. Wisely, Sam followed and plucked a menu out from a condiment tray, food was needed if they were gonna stay on their feet. Dean smiled at the bartender, a grizzled woman probably close to Annie’s age.

“Whatcha need sugar?” Her smokey greeting. 

Dean instantly thought of Ellen back home and he knew they made the right call coming all the way out here. He dragged out his credit card and slid it over.

“Open a tab, food and drinks on this card for any of those assholes by the pool tables, all night. Got it? The guy in the trucker cap is gonna try and outrank me, but don’t let him, capische?”

“You got it, handsome. What’s your poison?”

Dean cooed, “Oooo, careful, it’s still early. I’ll start with some wings if you got ‘em and a couple of baskets of fries, gotta ease into it. Then a round of shots of your choosin’ and a couple of pitchers of beer if you’d be so kind.”

“You got it. I’ll bring ‘em out when they’re ready. Anything for you big fella? Or is he sharing?” She asked Sam.

“I’ll have the club sandwich, but yeah, I think that’s it for now,” Sam smiled without teeth, but tucked a twenty into the tip cup to start off on the right foot.

“Sounds good boys, it’ll be right out.”

Madison and Annie showed up together sometime after six, but as much as Dean liked giving Sammy shit for having a legitimate girlfriend and everything, they weren’t who Dean was watching the door for. Annie grabbed him for a tight hug, ruffling his hair as she pulled back. 

“Feel good, don’t it?” 

Dean grinned, almost blushing, but knowing she got it, not just the rush of finishing an album, but doing it as he was trying to drag himself up a hill too. “Couldn’t have done it without you, you know.”

Annie smacked her lips and turned on an aloof air, “I know. I mean, of all the many washed up power ballad divas out there, you got pretty lucky.”

“Shut up. Nobody is gonna call you washed up, not if I have anything to say about it.” Dean gestured the bartender over, who he learned was named Dawn, wanting to get Annie and Madison onto the massive bill they were racking up.

The night continued with the band and their significant others drinking and playing pool or pinball if you were Kevin. Dean was feeling pretty loose when Pam stagger-stepped over to him and threw her arm over his shoulder. 

“This was a good call, miss those seedy dives we used to play in,” she said with a drunken kind of nostalgia in her voice.

“Hell, we wouldn’t exist without places like this,” Dean nodded in agreement, clinking his bottle of beer with the empty dangling shot glass in her hand.

She licked her lips. “Where’s your lady friend, hmmm? I wanna meet her already.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Tonight is just for the band. And, well, Madison. But last thing I need is to ruin poor Dawn’s night with a bunch of fucking piranhas in here chasing the right shot.”

“Still—- doubt she’d show if it meant living it up in the low places,” Pam snarked.

Dean cleared his throat. “Hey now. Don’t go judging a book by it’s cover. Bela’s tougher than she looks.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Pam huffed and slapped him on the back just as he tried to take a sip. 

Dean glared.

Pam laughed. “Okay, boss, let me know when you’re ready for a rematch, I’m gonna go find the little girls’ room.”

“Don’t fall in!” Dean called after her, which earned him a middle finger and a nice view of her walking away in her low cut leather pants. 

Yeah, Dean was feeling the alcohol among other things. He decided he had waited long enough and checked his phone again when suddenly somebody punched him in the arm.

“What’s up bitches?!” Charlie shrieked.

Dean’s entire mood lifted and he let her pull him off his stool into a big brother little sister hug. “Glad you could make it, red.”

“And, look, she lives!” Charlie stepped back and presented Trouble to him like a game show prize.

Dean swallowed. He felt lost looking into your eyes, searching for any hint of hurt or anger. Luckily, you weren’t drunk yet, so you slipped easily into his arms and gave him a hug of your own. “Hey.”

“Congratulations,” you said against his chest.

Dean squeezed tighter. “Thanks,” knowing he meant it more than he could ever say.

Tagging: @deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter Nine: Giocoso

[t0ast-ghost]

Deep Space Nine S5 EP6 (Trials And Tribble-Ations) Hiii >:) I’m backkk

Here we go:

- I LOVE JADZIA DAX RAHHHH

- I like the bad cop, also bad cop thing the time guys got going on

- “We took on a passenger.” *switches perspective* “Humans!” Bashir is so not prepared to talk to anyone

- Hi Julian hiii

- Miles and Julian teasing Worf <3

- Bright energy colour to symbolize the prophets are fucking around

- THE ENTERPRISE! !!

- I started watching this on my phone but decided to switch to my computer but then got distracted by dishes so I went to do dishes with my headphones on and thought ‘I should play some music’ so I pressed the button and all I hear is trumpets and I remembered I was watching deep space nine (I have no attention span apparently)

- I love the silly little exposition. Like “Which enterprise? There have been five.” “Six.” And “His ship. James T. Kirk.”

- “Man was a menace.” Damn right he was

- OMG THE GETTING READY MONTAGE WITH THE SLUTTY BOOTS

- Bashir’s hair is styled like McCoy’s oh my- oh my heart

- “I’m a doctor not a historian.” I SCREAMED

- we love Jadzia Dax. I said we love JADZIA DAX!

- I like how the shirts hang a bit over Miles and Julian’s hands

- DO NOT fuck someone in the past, goddamnit Doctor

- He’s just sitting there

- Miles out of his element because this ship is patch-worked together differently than his

- I love Odo getting some peace in his life. GET THIS GOO A PET

- Poor Worf

- Sisko with the flip (edit: assuming it’s a communicator flip)

- I love that all these random Klingon commanders get a backstory via Dax just chilling with them

- I like how Sisko describes Kirk in this episode because in the original Kirk was just pissed off at the station scientist

- “Your flap’s open.” Miles looks down almost immediately

- JULIAN THIS IS NOT A PREDESTINATION PARADOX! DONT! (Sidenote: I’m my own grandpa song mention)

- Miles is so done with Julian’s hyperactive bullshit

- “Fine! But I can’t wait to get back to deep space nine and see your face when you find out that I never existed!” Omg I love this man. He’s such a loser.

- Neat! When beaming in DS9 they continue to move rather than have a frozen image like in TOS

- “Benjamin, look.” Yeah I’d check out Kirk and Spock too, completely fair Jadzia

- I didn’t realize they’re just imposed in the background for a second

- YEAH JADZIA! You know what’s up (Spock does have beautiful eyes)

- Normal behaviour

- The fact they made Miles mistake someone for Kirk instead of making him recognize Scotty is a damn shame- Never mind it’s funny

- I forgot how protective Chekov is, it’s adorable

- GET HIM SCOTTY (Chekov then jumps over a table to tackle someone)

- Julian punches someone really easily and then remembers ‘oh yeah it’s supposed to hurt’ he’s ridiculous

- OMG WAIT did Julian and Miles meet Kirk?!? OMG THEY DOO IMG OMG. ONG

- Hi Kirk hiii girlypop hiiii

- Autistic man finds stim toy (edit: not sure who this is about)

- Kirk’s ass Kirk sitting on the tribble lol

- MCCOY HII MCCOY

- “He had the hands of a surgeon.” DAX AND MCCOY CANONICALLY FUCKED?!? I mean.yeah

- The shot of the tribbles eating the grain

- He’s so babygirl :)

- Spock repeating the statistics that Jadzia said earlier and so she just gives Sisko this look of, ‘see? Even Spock agrees.’

- Jadzia throwing tribbles on Kirk. Priceless.

- Bones! I love Bones!

- What’s got Spock looking like that? He’s gonna bite someone get him off the bridge!

- “Would have done the same thing myself.” YEAH. I’d wanna see those gay men too

- Oh I forgot about Quark with the tribbles :)

I miss TOS now. I miss my bbygirls.

Masterpost

[specialagentlokitty]

Saul silva/Farah x Student!reader - the sound of silence

You had detention again, and as you made your way towards the classroom, you smiled and waved softly at the headmaster standing at the door.

“You know it would just be easier if you did your work in class.” Silva chuckled.

You gave a small shrug and slipped past, sitting at the back of the classroom you pulled some stuff from your bag.

“We have a meeting, but we’ll come back for you in an hour is that okay (Y/N)?” Farah asked.

You nodded your head and she smiled softly.

“Perfect, thank you.”

They left and pulled the door most of the way closed, but left a small gap so people could still see you were there if anyone needed you.

“Honestly for such a well behaved student I’ve never known someone to have so many detentions.” Silva said.

“They’re a good student, although quiet I don’t think I’ve really heard them talk aside from a few words here and there. They just don’t like doing their work in a classroom setting for some reason.” Farah sighed.

Silva nodded his head, because he’d noticed that a few times when he was covering some classes.

You just didn’t like to work in lesson, you preferred to do it in detention for some reason. Maybe it was because it was quieter, maybe it was because you could be alone, he had no clue.

And neither did Farah.

But they trusted you to stay there because you always did.

You pulled your headphones out and slipped them over your head, putting on your favourite playlist, you hummed to yourself as you did your work.

You liked this more, lost in your own little world, doing things at your own speed on your own without other people.

You had nothing against your classmates, you just preferred to work alone.

And that’s what you did, you worked alone.

As their meeting came to an end, Farah checked her watch.

“Time to collect (Y/N)?” Silva asked.

“Yup, exactly an hour.”

Both of them left and made their way down the empty hallways, and they turned the one that you were down and they both stopped.

From one of the classrooms they could hear a voice, gentle yet strong, singing a steady tune.

“Is that..?” Farah asked.

“I think so.” Silva nodded.

They were both quiet as they walked towards the classroom and pushed the door opened a little more to hear your humming a song.

You tapped your fingers along the desk to the rhythm flowing through your headphones.

And then you started to sing another song.

“Hello darkness, my old friend. I've come to talk with you again.”

Your voice was soft and quiet.

“Because a vision softly creeping. Left its seeds while I was sleeping. And the vision that was planted in my brain, Still remains. Within the sound of silence.”

The two teachers shared a look and you took a small breath.

“In restless dreams, I walked alone. Narrow streets of cobblestone. 'Neath the halo of a street lamp, I turned my collar to the cold and damp. When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light. That split the night. And touched the sound of silence.”

Your voice was a little stronger now, and you grew louder as you sang.

“And in the naked light, I saw, Ten thousand people, maybe more. People talking without speaking. People hearing without listening. People writing songs that voices never shared.”

They were amazed at the strength of your voice, the emotion they could hear.

“And no one dared. Disturb the sound of silence. "Fools" said I, "You do not know, Silence like a cancer grows. Hear my words that I might teach you. Take my arms that I might reach you" But my words, like silent raindrops fell.”

Your voice ripped through the silence.

“Wow…” Farah whispered.

“And echoed in the wells of silence. And the people bowed and prayed. To the neon god they made. And the sign flashed out its warning. In the words that it was forming. Then the sign said, "The words on the prophets are written on the subway walls. In tenement halls". And whispered in the sound of silence.”

They listened as you held the last few notes so strongly, not a hint of doubt in your voice.

“That was amazing.” Silva whispered.

“I didn’t know that they had such a voice.” Farah whispered back.

They looked at one another and listened as you sang another song.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard them so loud.” Silva said.

“Me neither, it’s astounding. I don’t want to disturb them.”

“I don’t either, but we said an hour, maybe they won’t notice?”

Silva pushed the door open and immediately you went quiet again and they both sighed.

They didn’t want to tell you that they heard you, they didn’t want to make you feel awkward or stop singing for good.

So they kept it a secret, and they would notice more often how you would sing, and in a way they found peace in it just like you did

[earlgreytea68]

most heartwrenching non-obvious heartwrenching fob song imo is like. homesick at spacecamp

hear me out - ik its literally in the title but to me its non obvious bc of all the context to do w the band afterwards. Like its almost prophetic in some of the conflict and struggle with the band but also its so so so innocent

- "these new friends are golden" and then the heychris stuff, and even to an extent the hiatus were the band and the golden voice werent enough to keep it together anymore

- "heaphones will deliver you the words that i cant say" literally p2 during hiatus. like more so blog posts, tweets etc. but like the message being conveyed through media. esp considering patrick wrote this song more than pete

- "you were the first to listen to everything we said" clearly about the band and audience. the same audience that picked apart their words too much to the point of futility ("people will dissect us till this doesnt mean a thing anymore")

but despite everything its so hopeful. it still feels hopeful even after knowing all this. you see its energy reflected in the more recent songs - almost like an apology. an acceptance. like this song symbolises the essence of fall out boy for better or for worse, but the the better is so enduring you can still hear its echoes everywhere.

idkkk i love that song its so young but also bittersweet and i have too many feelinsg about it i needed to let it out. hope u enjoyed my little ramble

Ha! I did enjoy your little ramble! I do love this song and I love what you say it being so "young," because it really does feel like such a young song. It's such a song of being in that in-between stage, between Chicago and California, between being a kid and being all grown-up.

And the thing about the headphones delivering the words he can't say. It's such a fandom convention that Pete writes out his love to Patrick, he doesn't say it; it's also such a fandom convention that Patrick sings his love to Pete, he doesn't say it. And both of those fandom conventions are right there in that lyric: Here is me singing the things I can't tell you. Here are the lyrics for the words I can't say.

And of course the imagery of "golden," which grows to be so fraught and weighted in Pete's lyrical bank.

[marvelettes]

Martin Luther King, Joan Baez & Harry Belafonte

In my young life, before there was Pete Seeger, before there was Odetta, before there was the Kingston Trio…

There was Harry Belafonte.

And there sat mom and I, gazing at an album cover of the handsomest man we’d ever seen, and listening to “Scarlet Ribbons.” Harry’s voice was scratchy and smooth at the same time, and I would listen to nothing else.

I had recently switched from ukulele to guitar, and proceeded to memorize every song in his repertoire. My singing was wobbly, but hidden in my throat was “the voice.” I found myself in an ever so amateur studio, where I donned large uncomfortable headphones and poked at the large intimidating microphone. Out of the twelve songs I recorded, six were Belafonte’s.

I could not have known then that the man with the scratchy/smooth voice and the face of brown velvet would be there ten years later walking side by side with Dr. King and myself in Montgomery, Alabama. Or that his commitment to nonviolence and civil rights was unshakable, and that as he was lifted up by the movement, he lifted up the movement with his eloquent voice, both singing and speaking.

The last time I saw Harry he was in his nineties and proud of it. His beautiful wife Pam explained to him whatever he didn’t quite hear. He looked like a sage, or a prophet, or a royal. He was virtually blind, but smiled broadly and punctuated the conversation with mischievous comments. He was all there.

When my son and I left the apartment we were verging on tears.

Gabe said, “It’s like we’ve just been in the presence of a fucking prophet.”

We had been.

posted by Joan Baez on her Facebook profile — photo by Bob Fitch, The Bob Fitch Photography Archive at Stanford