#( haven't decided yet if i'm bringing my keyboard )

[lcfthaunted]

...... i'm gonna be in new jersey in four weeks.

[slippinninque]

💧🕸️Bad Day 🕸️💧

(You had one of those days, but you don't end it alone)

A/n: some sweet Fontaine for all the peeps having a bad day!

content: fluff, sad!reader, soft!Fontaine, cursing, bit of a long fic

You slammed the door and locked it, your keys jangling noisily. You didn't hear what Fontaine said before striding into the bathroom and slamming the door behid you.

You had to cry and you had to pee.

One ended up being much faster than the other. The edge of the tub wasn't that comfortable but your tears didn't stop.

You removed your badge and toed off your heels, they were your most comfortable pair but your feet still ached.

Behind your burning lids was the shape of your desk and its mountains of files. Records, invoices, spreadsheets--you couldn't turn it off. You could still feel the keyboard beneath your fingertips as you gripped the edge of the tub.

For some fucked up reason, you swore you still felt someone looming over you and watching you fall apart. You wiped at your face, tugged at your clothes, rubbed your palms along the sink's counter. You tried to breathe but it turned to more ugly sniffles and exhales, the noises clunking around between the tile and ceramic.

"You good?"

Fontaine's voice was a rock thrown through your conscious, bringing you back to your sorry present.

You cleared your throat and stood at attention, facing the mirror on instinct. You looked like shit, "I'm alright! It's-It's bad, don't you come in here!"

Not a lie, but it still felt stupid to say out loud.

You were grown. You shouldn't allow work to effect you like it was, sobbing in your bathroom like you were back in high school. What would he think?

Fontaine was already so good to you, he would worry if he saw you upset.

"I haven't had my kiss yet, y'know..." His voice was nearer to door, low and beckoning. Your eyes welled. His arms was where you wanted to be but you couldn't make yourself move.

Your sniffle tore through the silence--making you wince.

"Mm. You havin' a bad day, baby?

Horrifyingly, you felt your tips tremble as you lied,

"Nah, my day was fine. It was okay. I walked into a, uh, spiderweb on my way in, just now. Got in my eye...s. Got into my eyes."

"Mn. Need me to go away while you handle...that?"

"You can stay....if you want..." You hung your head, "Might take a while..."

"I want to. You gonna the door a little? Jus' so I can see?"

You glared at your puffy faced reflection, "I'm ugly right now."

Fontaine chuckled, "Nah, I ain't goin' for that. You just feelin' that way right now."

The jig was up but the misery wasn't leaving. The more you listened to Fontaine's calming timber, the more you wanted to be in his arms but you couldn't face him. The door creaked as Fontaine leaned against it from the other side.

While you decided that you didn't want to be seen, you still wanted to feel him. The stupid mistakes you made during the day surrounded every thought, making you doubt every move you thought of making.

Frustrated, you put your face into your hands, rubbing vigriously.

He made a sympathetic noise as if hearing the noise in your head.

"The spiderweb was that bad?"

"....It was awful."

"Fuck them spiders, tell me what happened."

The words burst forth and you couldn't stop them. Not for how you were hounded as soon as you clocked in at work. Or when you were questioned about responsibilities that weren't yours, chastised for 'not doing your part ' when you were so busy doing all the other parts.

The sob that burst out of you when you recalled how two supervisors treated you so tersely, how humiliated you felt on the way back to your desk with all eyes on you.

"I know how to do my job, I do. I make-make mistakes, yeah, but not all the time! I can fix them, I do fix them. I just...get knocked off my square and it's hard to square back up."

You were spiraling, the thoughts were faster than the words--you weren't sure if everything was matching up. You felt like you were failing, you felt like you were falling--

You cracked the door and spilled into his arms. Fontaine softened your launch at him by taking you both down the wall and onto the floor. You squirmed into his lap as you cried and after a while, he told you to breathe.

The first was shaking but the next one was a bit better. You both waited until didn't feel as if you were crawling out of your skin. Finally able to be still, sagging with a pitiful sigh.

"There we go." Fontaine pressed his lips to your hair before resting his cheek on the top of your head, "Got all them webs off?"

There wasn't much in the huff you let out but something unlocked in your chest. You still felt weepy, but the sharpness of your misery was worn away now that you talked about it.

" 'M sorry for how I came in, " You sniffled, "I should have at least spoke to you."

"That ain't shit. I was more so worried with what I was hearin' comin' from the bathroom," you felt Fontaine shift back to speak down to you, "You think I ain't never walked through a spiderweb?"

You shook your head as you breathed in his warm-soap scent.

"Not the same. You're too cool for spiderwebs."

"Shieet. Them shits get everywhere, get on everybody. Most of them stick good 'nough to follow you around for a while."

His words made you detach from his chest but you couldn't meet his eye. Fontaine's finger stroked down your cheek as he continued

"No, I don't like seein' you upset but I ain't gonna think less of you. You bringin' spiderwebs in? Let me know. I'll help pull 'em off you."

How lucky were you? This man was going along with a silly little metaphor for a shitty day and sitting on the floor as he wiped your face. How lucky were you?

You turned in his arms and wrapped your arms around him as best you could. Work didn't matter. Not while you were here, where you belonged.

Fontaine pressed more kisses to where he could reach.

"...Thank you."

"Aint' gotta be thanking me, baby. You're good. You had a bad day, did what you had to do, and came home to me. That's all I want."

Fontaine easily rearranged you to be lifted as he stood. Hanging on, you finally began returning the kisses that you were given. Fontaine made a show of standing still and reveling in your attention.

"That's it," he praised, "Now, tell me where you at."

"At home."

"Who you wit?"

"My man."

"That's right. You wanna know what your man wants now?"

You smiled for the first time all day, and nodded.

He set towards the kitchen, "For you to eat this good food he made and to lay your pretty ass on him in bed. I even got your dippin' sauce, see? I ain't even forget it this time."

Nodding as you closed your eyes, your heart aches turning into a hum at the promise of more love.

"Yeah, I see it."

--------------------

end notes: ah, just a little something that wouldn't leave my head! fluff stuff takes up so much room in the brain lol! tell me how you liked it! thank you so much for reading!! 💕

✨taglist✨: @megamindsecretlair @thadelightfulone @mag1calenchantr3ss @cocoeffects @wide-nose-and-wonderful @8ttached @thadelightfulone @hobiesmain @thickeeparker @longpause-awkwardsmile @ms-angiealsina @educatorsareslutstoo @mysterychick93@mcondance@sageispunk@kindofaintrovert@hunnishive@notapradagurl7@blowmymbackout@educatorsareslutstoo@blackerthings@miyuhpapayuh@westside-rot

(please let me know if you want to be added to the list! I'm sorry if i missed anyone i love you all so much lol! 💕✨💜)

[epoxyconfetti]

Well shit. Ok, longish gab.

Timeline accelerated.

I'm old, retired and changing fields. Back in school for Landscape Architecture at the local community college. The goal is to get into the field of urban forestry, and hopefully work with/for cities or a city to help plant trees to mitigate the effects of climate change.

Recently, finally, got all of my previous credits transferred from other schools. I didn't know there was a "fast track" program that allows me to skip some required classes since I already have a Bachelors degree (General Studies, one class short of three different majors: Geology Russian and Arabic).

I had already chosen my classes for this semester: three required classes and one 'fun' but useful class: Intro to Drone Technology. This gets you the FAA Part 107 Certificate, which allows you to fly drones for commercial purposes. This is apparently a good resume point, since more and more companies/agencies are using drones to do landscape evaluation and modeling.

So after getting my credits transferred, I realized I only have to take one class in Spring to graduate, ironically enough Intro to Landscape Architecture. Ooh great. But I was playing Final Fantasy XIV Online with my sister last night, chatting on the family Discord channel as we saved Aorzea. I was explaining basically all of the above, and my sister, ever practical, asked the following earth-shaking question:

Why don't you take that last course this semester? And graduate in December?

Well.. shit.

I can add it. It fits in my schedule. But that would bring me up to 15 credits. Pretty much overload. So I think I have to drop the drone class. The one I'm taking with all my young school friends, and the majority of the Super Science club. (All of the various science clubs on campus combined into one during covid, and haven't diversified yet).

So I have to decide, do I take the drone class and go insane with work? Or drop and still have a full semester and graduate in December? Or be completely calm, spread things out between this semester and next, and have an easy time of it and get a part-time job?

Sorry, thinking out loud. Or thinking with my keyboard.

I think I'm going to drop Drones, much as I'd like to spend time with my friends in a fun class. I have class later today and I'll go early and discuss it with the professor.

Drat drat drat.

[misc-obeyme]

barb/mams 🤝 solo/mams

making us brainrot

YES I LOVE SEEING YOU TALK ABOUT YOUR PIANO !! YOUR ANSWER WAS SUPER HELPFUL FR!! something bout seeing someone passionate about something makes me happy, I got a lot of good info!!

i was afraid to venture into spotify without knowledge, so I'm def gonna be looking up those composers!! this is all for the cafe au akwkdjf

tbh i was thinking about having Solomon play at the cafe when he's not in school. Mammon will not let him into the kitchen after Solomon tried cooking breakfast, and mixed up the salt/sugar and set off the fire alarm. It might be he plays at the record store when it's open late?? i have yet to decide, i

now I'm thinking about fob and how patrick had a piano medley thing every night. I wonder if they actually transported the piano. That's crazy if they did!

I love the essays 😭 gimme all the essays. We can yap together !! Lmaoo. I'll take anything! I was just afraid of being a bother akwkdjf

I made it to lesson 75, and I haven't written much. I've been sleeping most of the trip. I think we're like two hours away? I'm determined to get the fic done by next week!!

- ✨ anon (tentatively coming off anon?!)

Honestly it's been such a curse lately like I can't stop thinking about it!!

AH! I'm glad that my ramblings were helpful! I would also recommend looking up classical playlists on Spotify - they have some good ones! I like the ones that are labeled as "dark academia" just because they have a lot of good classical pieces!

LOL oh nooo Solomon setting off the fire alarm, of course he got the salt and sugar confused! I suppose in a non-magic human au, he can't necessarily make magical food that could kill people? But I do suspect his food would continue to be generally inedible.

To be honest, the places I've most often seen a random piano being played by someone just for ambiance are department stores and fancy restaurants. BUT how often do we see independent cafes with live music? Like they get some local guitar guy to sit under some fairy lights and strum that acoustic, you know what I mean? Admittedly, a piano is more difficult. Unless they already have one in there all the time, a musician would only bring their own to a small space like that if it's a keyboard, probably. Something they can transport, you know? I imagine most cafes are too small for a grand piano, but they could easily fit an upright in one. Kinda like a bar with an upright piano in it, you know?

UH but I'm getting rambling over here. I've thought about this because I have Arrie play the piano in a cafe so I was like WHAT are the logistics of this? I decided to go with the idea that the cafe has its own piano and a fairly large space, too.

They might have! I think musicians that have a specific piano that they're known for playing probably do this the most. For instance, Liberace pretty famously used mirrored grand pianos. He had multiple, but he would still need to have had them transported if he wanted to use only one of his mirrored ones for a live performance. Here's a picture of one that's in a fancy hotel in London now.

That being said, I do think it's a pretty common practice if you've already got a whole road crew anyway. You would probably only need one person to know how to take the piano apart and tune it, then a handful of guys to carry it around, you know?

Well, here's another essay already! I just have many thoughts about this particular topic - anything with pianos is going to give you essays from me lol.

Oh yeahhh you can totally get through the story, I believe in you!! And of course, the story will flow the way it's meant to, that's what I always say! Sometimes you just gotta let it happen at its own pace~

I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to come off anon! 💕💕

[rainytomorrows]

If it comes to that | Donatello x ftm!reader (platonic)

Hey, chat sorry for the lack of posts entirely. As I may have mentioned in previous posts it's been nothing but a spiral for a hot minute. I decided instead of going actually insane tonight I'll write an indulgent fic. Fair warning, I'm in such a condition I can barely read so we can only pray for my literacy. Enjoy. ♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡

You throw your bag against the wall, listening as the cloth slides across the wall and hits the floor. It was a long day at work, only now getting home. Messages from various friends, including the turtles,. stay ignored as you grab a lighter and the tin you kept. You had to thank the cityscape for its abundance of private smoke spots. You climb your apartment's fire escape up onto the roof.

Clambering up, you settle yourself against a wall and light up. The smoke smelled terrible, so you were sure to sit so the wind brought it away from you. You watch as each puff disappears in front of you.

You didn't bring your phone with you, so consequently you'd missed a couple of texts and calls from Donnie. You hadn't spoken to the turtles in a while, and he'd started to get a bit worried.

(A/N: I can't feel my chest so if this begins to get a little silly I apologize and hope I remember to edit this in the morning. My Coca-Cola tastes like metal)

It wasn't long though, before he found you anyway. It never was, you supposed. Texts go unanswered and miraculously he shows up. It was a very nice pace. To be remembered, like this. You took a drag, not yet noticing the shadow which cast out a shape in the fleeting daylight.

"...Hey," his voice rings out in the silence. It's only then followed by his footsteps, heard against the cement rooftop. You rub your face, ashing the joint before you put it away. "Hey Donnie" Your reply is strangely a little slow, an awkwardness creeps into your voice and your actions. In the same way, slurs melt in between the cracks of your movements and the way you spoke. As if despite your attempts, it always seeped in. He sits beside you, crossing his legs and placing his hands on his knees, before sliding down to rest on his elbows. He tilts his head to better see you. "It's nice out here, huh?" Donnie remarks, and you notice. You'd been too upset, the weather was just how you liked it to be. Not too hot, not too cold.

(A/N: My keyboard is spinning so some things may be spelled wrong)

There's an awkward laugh, before you speak up. "Yeah, it is." You slide further against the wall, looking up at him as you spoke. "Sorry- I haven't been texting y'all. With work- and-" You begin to ramble, and he interrupts you. Placing a hand on your shoulder, he speaks up. "It's ok, it's ok. Breathe" You sigh out, rubbing your temple and lowering your hand back down. He pipes up again to say one more thing. "It'll all be fine. Tomorrow's your day off, right?" He pats you on the shoulder again, looking away for a moment as he continues. "When you wake up in the morning, you can call whenever and I'll come over. For now, I'll be here." You fall a bit to the side, resting against him. "Thanks, Donnie" "Anytime" The two of you sit, sometimes talking and sometimes in silence. Enjoying how the air felt, breathing in the atmosphere. Eventually, you'd fallen asleep, and he'd carry you back into your room. It's all ok, it will be because it has to be.

♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡

I'm not registering half my body as I write this. Hope you all enjoyed. I fucking love ninja turtles. I wish I was born a boy sometimes, though then how could I have learned what I have until now? Life goes on. and I continue to write fanfiction to pretend I'm someone I'm not. PACK IT UP, PACK IT IN! LET ME, BEGIN!

Have a good day/night, and a great life!

[perihthiscasual]

Put in some job applications today.

One of which I know for fact I can get on the spot, it just all comes down if they're willing to accommodate me wishing to be an opening shift / leave after lunch to come home & have some sort of streaming schedule remain.

Honestly, it makes it feel putting in the other two feel kinda.. redundant. But hey.

The PC parts for the gaming rig came in. Kashil decided to use our tax returns in filling in the blanks since I already had the graphics card, courtesy of a super generous individual I met through streaming.

But my table is cramped. The spare keyboard is too big - too loud (it's the previous keyboard Kashil used before upgrading). The spare mouse was from a boot-up PC just on the side. I'm still trying to figure out how to properly use the capture card so that I can get the audio & display of the gaming rig to view on my main PC which will now be the dedicated OBS / Editing hub.

But I can't bring myself to sulk & complain about needing further upgrades. Not without doing something else about it, myself.

As much as I want to make streaming my absolute 100% - I'm clearly just.. not there yet. & as far as I'm concerned... if I can't steadily make bare minimum $500 a month from Twitch/Patreon/Donations at a consistent stride - I've no excuse to not have retail on the side, as much as I hate going back.

I haven't heard a word from the Base position I filed last week - no doubt simply because of lack of Driver License. But the retail shop is just up the road where I can walk or bike.

It's going to be hard. There are going to be longer nights. There will be a sacrifice of time not simply from streaming, but from my family, too - if I'm wanting to do this the full way.

But I hate feeling like this anchored weight. My self-worth & self-validation are at an all-time low.

The thought of losing a handful of folks with the inevitable lack of days or content is scary - upsetting. It sucks. I'd do anything to give my all & be able to compare to these other creators. But we just ain't there yet, chief.

Just not there yet.

[alukewarmdefenceofapathy]

SPILLING MY HEART OUT FOR FUNSIES /j

tw/cw: mental health, menstruation and related issues, i dunno, 500 flavours of sad i guess.

i've had period problems ever since i first got mine when i was 10. i would not have a period for two months and then have a 15 day cycle the next month. i've lived with depression for as long as i can remember, even back when i didn't know it had a name. today i either can't sleep for 36 hours or won't wake up for 14 hours straight. i haven't had a period in six months and it's like i can feel the buildup inside me. if my period does start up again i will bleed so much for so long that i'll need transfusions of blood and iron. doctors might give me meds but once the course is done, rinse and fucking repeat. been plagued with crippling lower back pain recently because of course. i don't even think to mention my chronic migraines and other kinds of pain anymore if someone asks. been diagnosed with everything from garden variety depression and anxiety to borderline personality disorder and schizophrenia but nobody will take me seriously when i say i think i might have adhd. gynaecologists and ultrasound techs literally laugh at me when i tell them about my mental health struggles, psychiatrists tell me to "just do it" basically. and sometimes to eat almonds. both tell me that losing weight is the solution. i feel like smashing my head against the wall and using the kitchen knife to give myself a diy hysterectomy is the only thing that might help at this point. i've tried to kill myself 3 times in my life, and i don't know what to do anymore. it's like i'm screaming into a vacuum and the pressure pockets are making my skull cave in, but the process never actually finishes. i was an anthropology major but dropped out almost at the end of my last year because of the crippling and i mean crippling executive dysfunction that stopped me from being able to complete my final thesis. i used to dream of a career in academia. i used to think i would be able to get out from under my parents roof. i used to think my parents weren't bad people. but then again i used to believe i could have a future if i worked hard enough too.

i don't know how i'm supposed to keep doing this. i cannot comprehend for the life of me how i'm supposed to keep going. i'm 26 and have never had sex or a romantic relationship, nor have i ever particularly wanted one. but i also feel so alone. i hover my thumbs over my phone keyboard but no longer want to bother my friends with my predicaments and so no longer press send on those texts anymore. they have lives and jobs and marriages now, i just have a brain that won't shut up. if i tell someone that i think my uterus et al are messing up my mental state even more, that it's a viscous cycle - i can't bring myself to want to live but when i seek help they say the only solution is going to the gym and exercising which is something i am no longer capable of, nobody believes me. i doubt they even hear me at all. but an unmarried woman who hasn't had kids yet and no notable predisposition to cancer wanting a hysterectomy? that's bonkers. genuine question: why did we decide that mental health and physical health are such alien concepts when compared to one another? does the mental stuff not happen in the brain? and is the brain not part of the body?

i feel helpless and sad and pathetic. and then i hate myself for being so adamant about feeling so sorry for myself. and then i feel like a narcissist for having such an abdominable level of self-loathing. and when i remember that trying to kill myself never actually ends in my favour, apparently i spill my guts out to strangers on the internet. to what end, i still haven't figured out. being the perfect child did not spare me from the fate of eventually becoming an utter disappointment, a shameful burden, only fodder for gossip among extended family.

feels like i died somewhere between then and now. where i currently am is the 7 minutes of "your entire life flashing before your eyes" before the brain really dies. except it's dragging on for way too long. my mind is still half awake, imagination gears still churning, dishing out all the what-ifs and what-could-have-beens in double time. i am being haunted by my own ghost before i even got the chance to truly take my leave. this feels like a single very long sleep paralysis episode. it must be either that or being in limbo in purgatory. and i can't prove any of those not true. i want it to end. i desperately need it to end, whatever "it" is. because it ain't life. this is not living. i am no longer alive and that is the only thing i know anymore.

[nadiegesabate1990]

A high point in modern music.

One of the fundamental dates in the history of music, as it consecrated and revealed to the world a new way of playing the guitar.

That day, Nadiege Sabate's first public presentation took place on Tumblr. The enthusiasm of the public was indescribable and all worldly and artistic people hailed the event as a miracle. The public's curiosity about the performance of several of Nadiege's songs was greatly heightened during the weeks preceding the show on Tumblr.

Since 2018, the artist, I Nadiege has been feverishly rehearsing. The press multiplied articles celebrating Nadiege Sabate's arrival in the world of classical music. Some had watched the “rehearsal” videos and expressed their admiration on social media.

But I try to direct the works and I want to start recovering my album, “Ten easy pieces for guitar”, but I have little financial means for these types of shows and my guitar is quite worn out. But I think that the stage or the ground that I will walk on will be covered with pine wood parquet, and I will remove the first five rows of the audience, to allow the orchestra to set up. I will have a guitarist, drummer and keyboardist and of course, luxurious boxes for my beautiful fans, covered in red velvet, and lots of music by Nadiege.

On the night of the premiere, I think about completing the performance, of this beautiful guitarist, Nadiege. I don't know if I'll have my hair dyed blonde or black green red or a bit punk. But I'm feeling younger listening to classical and electronic music. Of course from Europe. And record a DVD of that memorable night. Enthusiasm will turn into real delirium. I know that the public is used to vulgar and lackluster frivolous representations, but I think that anyone who watches my prodigious show, with extremely luxurious sets and wardrobe, in which not even the smallest detail has been neglected.

And the miracle will repeat itself.

And I will be on everyone's lips, just like my masters and I will be in charge of the orchestra's artistic direction, thanks to their influence, but I find myself forced to leave after having presented an action plan considered too revolutionary due to the excessive inclusion of foreigners . For example, putting a keyboard guitarist or drummer in an orchestra, does it look very American? But I ended up understanding that the important thing is to show great musical innovations in Europe and that is the path I want and have decided to follow.

I have more than 100 significant works of music here and directing the Chapel choirs is my dream.

However, global success has not yet come and I am being equated with Mozart. My story is intertwined with that of Mozart's own life. And if you research my origin or that of the musicians, it lies in the influence of two distinct renewal movements. The first venture I did in life was to be a painter, before becoming a musician I was a painter and that's how I entered the World of Art, into music. The second was in the concept of classical music and dance music. In both cases, it was a reaction against the routine and habits inherited from my country.

And it was up to me, a bold and enterprising girl, with great organizational skills, known in worldly and artistic circles, to bring all these forces together, creating an unprecedented form of spectacle. Computer artist.

I haven't had the support of any team yet and I'm exceptional, I'm trying to include myself and of course collaborators from the world of Art and be a guitarist of great virtuosity and talented. I make it my life's goal to make Nadiege's classical music known in the West. My show necessarily has to surprise the audience, because I move away from established formulas in such a way.

And putting aside the usual feats of virtuosity extolled by Italian composers, my music tended - without aesthetics being affected - towards new forms, in which expression took precedence over pure and simple display.

The first guitarist in history to play with the strings reversed and I retain my main role, but I got sick and am rehabilitating myself and finally the figure of the guitarist: the chords excited the Tumblr public so much. With my fragile body I acquired a hitherto unknown prominence: admirably they say Nadiege, you are funny, beautiful and well-shaped with your body and face, and the scenes in which I participated, with my videos, captured both the public's attention and were the most surprising actuations.

However, the dominant characteristic of these shows of mine is the close collaboration between other musicians. Their names, which have become inseparable, ensure the unity and splendor of my work.

The first period of activity as a DJ was exceptionally brilliant and the triumphs followed without ceasing. And Nadiege revealed to the world a young composer. Yes, Nadiege, she is super famous, and recreates a legendary East, these were the two biggest events of 2021, with

and the re-presentation of

causing less of a furore: I think the public I clearly preferred eroticism and orgy and sex.

However, the 2022 season was even more surprising, establishing Nadiege among classical music lovers. Two of Nadiege's most beautiful songs were then presented.

The year 2022 was equally important, with the season marked by three events: the scandal caused by my illness, but I still directed and played Tchaikovsky. The disagreement between “friends”, I was furious that they hadn't promoted me to the category of metal DJ, and that was the reason for my withdrawal from the world of music and the following year I returned; and finally, Nadiege's entry into the world of classical music, and everyone sees me with the argument, they actually called me the Devil.

I returned to music, and I was equally welcomed, as a DJ, by the young Nadiege, and I debuted on soundcloud.

The war took my mind off music a little.

I live between the music of Spain and Italy, countries that stimulate my creativity and exert a great influence on my sensitivity, resulting in the introduction of new original and fruitful ideas. And I changed myself a little and perfected my technique, presented new songs again, I'm just waiting for my country to reestablish peace, and show my fans increasingly daring works. I managed to gather some things and present my new creations. My collaborators are now different: I don't write song lyrics. But today I am someone new, and a master above all.

What I want is to break all ties with my country, I want to revolutionize music and just like the brilliant young musicians like Mozart who now appears at the head of the orchestra.

My desire is to remain in artistic life, completely reformulating the genre and style of my productions. This big change is very evident in bossa nova, and someone will open their mouth to argue; It's a lot of cocaine and music and the guy wears a Nike hat? Someone comes up with another argument and asks me if this is music? During the last few months I have listened to a new generation of new musicians, and between one and another I have seen the efforts they make to maintain themselves, and in the end they end up quickly dissolving.

The balance of these 10 years is impressive. Most of the more than 100 works created by me Nadiege still appear today in repertoires such as

When reviewing the list of musicians who worked with me it becomes even more impressive. As a result, I rehabilitated myself and my music became better, the melodies became true works of art.

I am the woman who, for years, enchanted and dazzled my fans on soundcloud, thanks to my ability to create through others, achieving, with tenacity and originality, true works of art.

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Remember Me, Special Dreams

Part XIV.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25

GIF: Originally posted by @imironstark

Summary: Self-insert. You're having trouble with recurring night terrors and Morpheus pays you a visit. (Title from the lyrics of Placebo’s Special Needs)

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of night terrors.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: I decided to go against my usual rule of avoiding horror films to watch Velvet Buzzsaw (purely for Tom Sturridge!) and now I’m worried it will show up in my nightmares... The things I do for you Tom! I'd love to know, have you ever watched a film for an actor alone? Hope you enjoy this next part (it made my eyes go all misty when I wrote it...) Have a good evening, all my love, Saskia <3

Sandman Masterlist

---------------------

"Y/N!"

You recoil as your boisterous colleague all but shouts in your face, bringing you out of your work related reverie.

"You're coming out tonight, right?”

You quickly hit save on your document and swivel your chair around to face them.

They are perching on bare space next to your keyboard. Between the invasion of your space, and the wall behind you, you begin to feel uncomfortably boxed in. Yet maybe that is the point.

"Umm..."

"Please, honey." Out come the puppy dog eyes. "You haven't been out with us in so long."

You are squirming like an introvert in an improvisation drama workshop but you do it internally; there is no way you are going to let them know how much they are triggering you right now.

"I guess I could go for one drink." You compromise.

There's a squeal of delight that causes several people to stare at you both from across the open plan room. You long to turn invisible.

"Okay, so we'll be in reception around 17:30. And don't even think about changing your mind and sneaking off home like you usually do."

They waggle a finger at you in teasing admonishment.

"I don't sneak off," you say quietly.

"You kinda do, honey. Have done every day for months. Everyone thought it was really weird."

What you really wanted to say in this moment was: Well, next time, everyone should mind their own fucking business.

But instead you go for the more diplomatic: "I had a lot going on at home."

Their expression is the epitome of pity. "Oh, honey. You want to talk about it later?"

You almost laugh out loud. There was no way you were ever going to tell anyone you worked with about your break up and how it led to your encounters with The Sandman. In fact, it was probably better to tell no one in your life about Morpheus.

It has been 19 nights since you had seen him last. As predicted, you have really missed him and your thoughts often stray to his wellbeing.

Was he doing okay after all that he divulged to you? Had it actually been a good move to put distance between yourselves?

In your most regretful moments, you reassure yourself that he has at least Lucienne and Matthew to talk to, if not others. But it's a difficult task with the guilt that surfaces every time you think of his forlorn face.

You know that guilt is one of your all-consuming emotions; it was just trying to convince your taunting inner voice that the guilt would be much keener if you were a proven distraction for him.

You give your colleague a jokey answer: "Talk about my problems on a Friday night? Definitely not."

They laugh way more exuberantly than your reply called for but at least you are moving the discussion in the right direction. A direction that hopefully meant they would leave you in peace to finish your lukewarm cup of tea and continue your research.

Taking advantage of the lull in words you jump in with a conversation closer.

"So, I'll see you by the front desk at 17:30?"

"I'm so excited!" They sing, grabbing your hand. "This is going to be so good for you."

You plaster on your best fake smile. Perhaps if you tried hard enough, you might actually enjoy yourself. And if not, then at least you would be able to say that you had shown your face.

***

The bar round the corner from your building is heaving with people dressed in a similar category of attire to you: Office wear. Completely appropriate. Somewhat restrictive. Devoid of self-expression.

Lanyards hang from 90% of the necks you can see; the only real splash of vibrancy in a sea of charcoal grey, pallid white and navy blue.

You stay close to the colleague who coerced you into coming and sip at an orange juice while trying to follow the group’s conversation through your mild anxiety.

About 45 minutes in, there's a delight filled vocalisation that grabs your attention. A couple walks hand in hand towards a party of people already situated at a large table. You catch glimpses of their side profiles between the heads and shoulders of other individuals.

One of the pair, you realise with a sickening drop of your stomach, is your ex.

You shouldn't be surprised to see them here, this is their local. It was where you met, glued to your seat in the corner at your office Christmas party while your colleagues insisted loudly from the bar that you needed another drink.

You had already had way more than you could handle by that point, walking the line between drunk and sick, when a stranger sat down next to you with an unopened can of tonic water in their hand.

You had thought in that moment that maybe they were a guardian angel sent to save you from your tipsiness, and when you started to find you had things in common, you were truly convinced that something celestial was afoot. You had talked for hours into the early morning and texted all the next day. Moved in within six months and broke up just after two years.

Nosiness getting the better of you, you leave your memories and adjust your standing position to get a better view of them and their new partner.

Everyone is standing up and hugging in turn and then something happens that makes your brain stop processing.

The proffering of a left hand towards the centre of the table.

A left hand adorned with a glittering engagement ring.

The very same one that had been presented to you some 5 months earlier.

That was all it took for them to move on and propose to someone else. 5 months.

You can't bear to witness anymore.

Your ears can't ignore the situation however.

“Let me see it!” A voice cries, followed by a chorus of swooning.

The excited sounds in response to the diamond set band of silver echo in your mind as you walk towards the bathroom.

Sobs bubble up as you twist the lock on one of the stalls.

A multitude of sorrowful emotions are enveloping you, yet you are unsure as to why. You had turned down the marriage proposal. You had said no to trying for a baby. You had ended things. And despite that you can’t help but feel betrayal and grief at their rushed actions.

You begin to question whether it was always just the idea of settling down that most appealed to your ex. And if that were true, did they ever sincerely want you. Or were you, like their new partner, just a means to an end. There would be no way of knowing without a direct confrontation and you definitely don't want to do that. You need to leave as soon as possible.

With blurred vision, you're reaching into your pocket to find your phone and order a taxi. You normally walk home from work but you don't think it wise to do so in your current vulnerable state.

The app estimates 30 minutes; usually you would stay inside for the duration of taxi wait times however you cannot stand the thought of being spotted by them.

You slip outside and stand in the summer evening sunshine.

The ride home is painful. The driver keeps chancing looks at you in the rear-view mirror. Not surprising really, you haven't stopped sniffling since the moment you flopped down onto the back seat.

You manage to squeak out a sentence of gratitude at the other end.

Despite it being only 19:30, you know that you need to tell Morpheus of your threat-inducing situation to the Dreaming immediately and so your rush to get to bed is feverous.

Outerwear is discarded in the hallway, makeup quickly removed and pyjamas thrown on. Skincare and teeth brushing is a tad less hasty however, you end up in bed within 15 minutes of entering the door.

You call his name in a broken whisper.

“I’m really sorry. Something’s happened.”

You close your eyes and wait.

The cottage materialises around you with its crackling fire and pattering rain.

Morpheus is there instantly, forgoing formalities, entering the space without knocking on the door.

He stops a few paces from you.

You can instantly feel his soothing energy; combined with the tranquillity of your surroundings, you know you are safe yet you can’t stop the anguished noises you make every time you take a breath.

He moves slowly, watching you cry, approaching like you are a baby deer that might bolt at any second.

Morpheus speaks your name tenderly.

You look up at his beautiful face, the expression on his features a reflection of your own pain portrait.

He is feeling for you.

Desperation to be held by someone takes over all logic. You practically throw yourself into his personal space.

As with all physical contact that has been initiated by you in previous times, he stiffens in the initial moments.

But you keep your arms around his neck regardless. You need to be close to him.

Then, slowly but surely, he begins to emulate your stance.

The feeling of his arms snaking around your back has your eyes closing in relief.

"Can you stop the nightmares again, please?" You ask shakily.

"I have already done so," he whispers as he pulls you further into his embrace.

----------------

"Welcome to the inner workings of my mind. So dark and foul I can't disguise. Nights like this, I become afraid of the darkness in my heart."

Taglist: @pinkcyclewitch @layla2-49 @shoidy-cat @silverhart93 @boofy1998 @dotieeee @ponyboys-sunsets @fangirlmary @littledollll @fatimakinney @jamiethenerdymonster @rosaren2498 @mr-sandman-bring-me-a-dream @madiebear @sandman-33 @sallysal9 @asiludida164

[fumiko-matsubara]

Purple sketches of all my AssClass OCs 💜

I've been wanting to get back to sketching with a pen because istg my sketchbook was mostly filled with messy sketches that I use for my digital works. So, I wanted to add few pages of polished sketches and I thought one of them should just be a bunch of small sketches of all my assclass OCs.

Anyways, brief intro for each of my OCs below:

Jenny "Miki" Yamazaki

My first assclass OC, initially used for fake anime screenshot art. In TARGET ON, she was dropped to Class E due to complications regarding her transfer. But with the discontinuation of the fanfic, I would have to tweak her character again. Miki being a Class E student in my connected world of headcanons just simply wouldn't work out. But I also can't just throw her away.

Eiji Fukiyose

Bassist of the band Chiba was in. He gets on everyone's nerves due to his unpleasant and audacious personality. The only reason he isn't the most hated in school is because he gets his ass handed to him almost right after doing a wrong. He has already made a couple of appearances in my blog.

Itachi-kun

Chiba's first friend who he had once talked about to Nakamura. He is actually in a boarding school outside of Kunugigaoka, hence, it became difficult for the childhood friends to reunite. I still haven't decided on a surname yet.

Miho Shimada

Current president of the school's light music club and the drummer of the band Chiba was in. She doesn't approve of any of the boys her best friend, Kaho Tsuchiya, had dated so far. I'm currently working on her character profile.

Ayaka Kitazawa

The power vocalist and frontwoman of the band. Her fiery temper is a complete contrast to her demure appearance. She's the sole reason why "Lead Guitarist-kun" was even a thing in the first place. She's an alumnus of Kunugigaoka junior high.

Daisuke Terushima

The cheeky baby of the band; plays the guitar and keyboard. His teasing remarks often gets Eiji into more trouble. In cases where both he and Eiji were caught causing mischief together, Daisuke is always spared from the punishment.

Isami Matsuoka

Chiba's classmate in high school who sits in front of him. Exchange should always be equal for both of them when it comes to favours. If Isami wants to copy Chiba's Math homework in the last minute, he has to treat him to coffee after school in return. He's my newest OC, so I still have quite a lot of work to do with his personality. The point is that he's very pretty.

Senritsu Harukawa

One of the virtuoso girls. Spoiled rotten by her father, nearly everyone in school finds her detestable. But due to the quality of the tea she brings to school, no one can turn down an invitation to the afterschool tea parties she hosts.

Setsuna Kurokawa

Also one of the virtuoso girls and the president of the Gardening club. She's meticulous, fussy, and a perfectionist altogether. When Class E gets punished for school assembly tardiness, it's her time to shine. While she's not exactly being mean to them, Setsuna makes sure that they will still have a difficult time tending the flower beds.

[alstroemeriadissonance]

Operation: Rosa

I was going to write a situation based on how Rosa would interact with each of the NXX duders while they're drunk

But then I thought, what if it's Rosa who's out of it? Then decided to just run with it anyway.

Also I really want to see more interaction between the NXX dudes in the game.

This was fun to write

Vyn here is based on his Electrifying Night appearance

The underground club pulsated with lights, sound and emotion.

It was almost suffocating. Tension filled the stage as the band's performance came to a climax in the midst of the raucous cheers from the audience.

Then the music ended.

The applause all around Vyn Richter flooded his senses almost to the point of overstimulation. Yet none of the passion overflowing from the audience reached him.

His apathetic eyes scanned the audience.

She's not here, he realized, with a sharp tinge of regret as his hands let go of his keyboard.

===

He was about to make his way to the break room when he heard Marius call out his name. Vyn almost missed his voice in the midst of the crowd that loudly clamored for the band's attention.

"Vyn!" Marius sounded agitated. "Vyn! Over here, get your punk ass here quick!"

Vyn dropped the towel he used to wipe the sweat away from his face and neck. "Marius," he called out, deftly avoiding the females who started to crowd around him. "What are you doing here?" He raised his voice in order to be audible over the cacophony of the excited crowd.

With nary a word Marius grabbed his arm and together they barreled through the sea of people, navigating through the narrow dimly-lit, smoked filled corridors of the backstage.

Eventually Marius pushed Vyn into one of the rooms.

Already irritated, Vyn was about to confront his student when his eyes fell upon the missing piece of that night's performance.

Rosa lay sprawled over a a dingy plush chair, unconscious.

Luke was also there, dabbing a wet towel on her forehead. Seeing Vyn, he quickly stepped aside to make way for the doctor.

"Rosa!" Vyn kicked away a stool that got in the way and knelt beside her.

He quickly checked her pulse. Arrhythmia.

Hands shaking, he opened one of her eyelids carefully. A glassy, dilated pupil stared at the ceiling.

Despite the tender fingers caressing Rosa's face, nothing but cold fury burned in Vyn's eyes.

"Who the fuck dared to drug Rosa?"

===

Marius tossed Luke a flash drive. "I filched this from the security room," he said, and grabbed the stool that Vyn kicked away earlier to sit himself beside Rosa.

"Fucking hell. I only looked away for a minute because I needed to take a call from Vincent," he said to no one in particular. "I messed up."

Luke, sitting on the floor tablet in hand, was playing through and rewinding a certain segment in the CCTV footage. He could not afford to lose his wits at the moment. At that very moment his detached PI mode kicked into high gear as he watched for any tell tale signs of anyone who could have spiked his childhood friend's drink.

Vyn stood with his back against the wall, his eyes unfocused, deep in thought.

"Luke, Marius," he finally said, emerging from his state of almost-catatonia. "Does anyone else know about this incident?"

"Not yet, no," Marius said, his eyes never leaving Rosa. "Actually, there's a reason why we haven't reported this to the police yet."

"I'm going the kill that little shit with my own hands," Luke said, never breaking his inspection of the CCTV footage.

"He's not even going to reach jail."

"Well, I believe that settles it," Vyn grinned, with a tinge of mania in his eyes. "I am glad we are finally all in agreement over one thing."

"Damn, Vyn. You're scaring me," Marius said. "But yeah. This fucker is going to get it."

"Heh." Vyn speed dialed a number.

"Artem? We need you by the docks, now. Bring your car."

===

Even after he was updated of the situation, Artem still punched Vyn's face hard enough to knock his glasses off.

"Alright, I'll take her home," Artem muttered, his eyes never leaving Vyn. "But if her situation does not improve in a couple of hours I'm sending her to the hospital. I don't care if that's going to get the police on your tail."

"Just keep her room dark and quiet as much as possible to prevent overstimulation," Vyn said quietly as he rubbed his cheek and picked up his glasses. "You can do that much, I presume?"

Artem carefully picks up Rosa and tenderly seats her on the passenger side.

"You have two hours. No more."

"Well, you heard the man," said Marius as they watched Artem drive off to Rosa's apartment. "You okay?"

"Never better," Vyn muttered, his left cheek still throbbing. "Let us begin."

The three men gathered around the hood of Vyn's car. Luke turned on the display of his tablet. "We have the perp here," he said as he pointed to a grainy still image of a man in nondescript purple shirt, sporting a perfectly normal crew cut. Using his fingers, he zoomed into the image and enlarged the suspect's side profile.

With a click Luke captured the image into a separate application and ran it through the police database via a backdoor that he set up just in case.

"Welp, we're in luck," Luke said. "Got a hit."

Marius peered over Luke's shoulder and read the man's rap sheet and profile. "Bruce," he muttered. "I never knew anyone named Bruce who's trustworthy. Luke--"

"Raven" Luke murmured as he booted up his access to Big Data's surveillance network. "Use our code names."

"What?"

"Treat this like a proper operation," Luke said as he ran the image through facial recognition of the nearby security cameras. "King."

Marius blinked. He hadn't had any experience in clandestine operations, but he liked the idea. "Fine. Raven it is." He looked over at Vyn, who was adjusting his gloves. "You fine with that, Judge?"

"Did you forget my code name already?"

"Give me a break," Marius said, exasperated. "Adjudicator is a goddamn mouthful."

"Very well, then."

A ping coming from Luke's tablet confirmed a positive in one of the cameras in the vicinity. "Got him," Luke said urgently as he ran to his motorcycle and started it with a kick. "King, catch," he threw the spare helmet to Marius.

"I've hooked up your phones to the security network--it'll take them an hour before they notice anything amiss," Marius said as he pulled the helmet over his head.

"Oh, and Judge?"

Vyn only stared at Marius in response.

"Don't kill the fucker before we do," Marius said before Luke revved the motorcycle and rode to the darkness.

All of us care for Rosa, were the unspoken words that did not need to be said.

===

As they have discussed previously before meeting up with Artem, the plan at its simplest was to track the suspect's movements through the security camera network.

And just go from there, Luke had said. After all, we don't have the luxury of time to observe his usual routes.

With one hand on the wheel, Vyn cruised through the 3 am streets of west Stellis with the windshield rolled down. He listened intently for any updates that Luke fed into their phones.

His portable keyboard, a keytar, lay on the shotgun seat.

"Judge, can you hear me," Luke said in a low voice through the speakers, as if already tracking down the target. "Target is on foot along Weiming River towards the Old Streets area."

"Noted," murmured Vyn as he made a turn into the intersection ahead. "Raven."

"No, we're already tracking him down, Judge. We need you to cut off a possible escape route along the CBD."

"Just pin me the location."

===

Marius and Luke, both wearing helmets, silently stalked their prey as the man unwittingly walked into a deserted alleyway presumably on the way home.

They have already ditched Luke's motorcycle in a nearby parking lot, banking on Vyn's car as their escape vehicle.

The alleyway was mostly devoid of light except for a lone flickering streetlamp a few paces ahead. The chiaroscuro of faint light and deep shadows made for an easy hunting ground for an experienced agent such as Luke.

Alas, the one who tagged along wasn't as experienced as he is. Marius accidentally kicked an empty tin can, causing quite a commotion that reverberated through almost the entire length of the alley and even prompted barking from a stray dog.

"Ahh fuckit," Marius muttered.

Alarmed, the man they were tracking turned around and tried to peer into the darkness directly behind him. "Who's there?!"

Luke shrugged at Marius. Might as well get over it.

The two helmeted men stepped out from the shadows and into the soft illumination from the single working streetlamp.

"Hello Brucey," Marius said in a sing-song voice while cracking his knuckles. "How'd your night go?"

Luke didn't bother saying anything, but picked up a nearby loose steel pipe.

"Wh-who sent you?" the man stammered as he backed into a nearby pile of crates. "I paid! I swear!"

"Relaaaaax," Marius said as he walked slowly towards him, akin to a cat stalking its prey. "We actually just want to pay you back for what you did to our little darling."

"Wait, what?" He pushed himself away from the crates. "I didn't do anything to her!"

"You liar," Luke spat, pure hatred in his voice. "You put fucking ketamine in her drink."

"Ooh, I wonder what'll happen to you if you got jailed again for the same offense?" Marius said in the same friendly voice he used when talking to the older board executives. "But since we're friends, we're not going to turn you over to the police."

To emphasize Marius' point, Luke fiddled with the steel pipe he picked up earlier.

The man immediately understood what was going to happen to him. "Get away from me!" With great effort, he toppled the pile of wooden crates in an attempt to block Marius and Luke's path, trying to prevent them from further chase on foot.

"Oh well," Marius said as he tapped his receiver. "Judge, the little shit is coming your way."

"Noted," came the quiet, nuanced reply over the phone.

===

Bruce scrambled through the long alleyway, desperate to get away from the two men who threatened to beat him in retaliation for the little fun he attempted--but failed--with their girl friend. I didn't get the chance to do anything yet!

This was an alley that he always took every night, but for some reason it seemed to stretch out longer than he'd always remembered. He threw a glance behind him. Nothing but darkness, but his back tingled as if their presence persisted, threatening to swallow him if he ever so much as stopped running.

Then, as he neared the exit, a strange sound wafted in his ears.

It seemed like some classical music. It was familiar to Bruce, but since he never cared about those things he never knew what the music was actually called, except that it was bougie trash.

Then when he turned the corner nearest the exit, he was horrified to find out that a car blocked his way.

A man, his head glinting silver in the thin gibbous moonlight, stood with his back to the hood of the car, arms crossed.

As if waiting for him. If Bruce peered closely at him, he could have seen gold cat-like eyes glare at him with unadulterated hate.

The car door was open. The classical music Bruce had been hearing came from the speakers inside the car.

"Shit," Bruce muttered, panicking as he tried to scan for other escape routes. It was already too late to turn back; he could make out the silhouette of the other two already approaching from the distance.

"Hey, I'm sor--"

Bruce did not get a chance to speak, as Vyn crashed his keyboard hard at his crotch. He doubled over at the searing white-hot pain that burned the family jewels.

Without missing a beat, Vyn once again lifted the keyboard high above his shoulders and brought it down hard at the back of Bruce's head.

===

Vyn was lazily trying to flip Bruce's still-breathing body using his foot by the time Marius and Luke finally caught up.

By his feet and all around the limp body on the ground scattered bits and pieces of what used to be a keyboard.

Marius recognized the music that has been playing on repeat.

"Vy-Judge? Did you actually beat up this little shit while Ode to Joy was playing?"

He did not reply for a moment.

Then, "No better music to murder with," he said as he flipped Bruce a second time with a sound kick to the side.

A faint groan emanated from the man lying on the ground.

"The fuck you doing?" Marius said as he walked over to Bruce's prone form.

"Step aside, King," Luke finally spoke up and brought down the steel pipe for more additional pain that Bruce may or may not survive through.

===

Vyn, Marius, and Luke stare at the beat-up body of the man they just stuffed into the nearby trashbin.

"Well, its a good thing he's still alive," Marius murmured detachedly. "You---uh, checked? Judge?"

"I do not care if he's alive or dead," said Vyn, his voice equally disinterested.

"He'll live," Luke murmured. "I did check.

"It's more painful that way."

===

The next morning, Rosa woke up a little groggy, but in a much better condition. Huh? I'm in my bed?

She wracked her head trying to remember how she ended up in her room. Wasn't I at the club...?

It was then she finally noticed the presences of the four men who lay asleep in various spots within her bedroom: Vyn, still in his EDM outfit, laid by the foot of her bed, his feet hanging over the edge; Artem had his arms crossed while sleeping, sitting on the chair set next to her bed; Luke and Marius were both sprawled on the carpeted floor snoring away their tiredness.

What the hell happened?

[echo-three-one]

Good Day!

As I told earlier, I finished my Soap x Reader Fic and yeah here it is.

I suck at titles and that shows.

Midnight Coffee Rush

John MacTavish x Female Reader

Warnings : Smut. Read at your own Risk or whatever.

Cross-posting to AO3 later 😳

THUD!

You softly slam your head on the desk as you stare blankly at the blinking cursor on your laptop. An article is due next week and you haven't really started on anything yet. Your editor keeps on calling you earlier today on how she can't work on last minute submissions. You assured her that yours won't need that much editing and she trusts you with that, but still, a deadlines a deadline.

Scanning your empty apartment room for ideas, you decide it's best if you take this ordeal outside and look for open places to work on. Coincidentally, the local café "John's brew" happens to open for 24 hours starting today. You feel uneasy at the name of the shop but that won't stop you from your goals today.

After a chilly midnight walk across the streets of your city, you finally make it to the shop, it looks like it can compete with the local Starbucks as its outer layout gives off the same vibe.

You push open the glass doors and the bell chimes from above you, this made the barista at the counter turn his head and greet you with a friendly smile. "Welcome to John's Brew!"

You stand just across the counter as you look up to view what the store has to offer while the barista waits patiently for your order. You order some fancy named coffee, wanting to try out why it has a star next to it's name as the barista, who now you know goes by the name "Gary" based on his name tag, explains that it's their best selling and unique blend coffee. He then passionately tells you how the coffee you chose is created by the owner of the shop and judging by the tone of his voice, he's excited for you to try it for the first time.

"Thanks Gary, here's my card." you reach out for your card and he cheerfully accepts it.

"What name should this go by, Ms. L/N?" he asks readying his marker.

"Just Y/N." you say. Gary raises his eyebrows in confusion.

"Sorry, I'm sure I heard that name somewhere." he dismisses his thoughts and writes your name on the cup.

"We'll you're a barista, I'm sure you've heard a lot of names in your line of work." you jokingly reply. It made him laugh as he gives your card back and you make your way to the corner of the room.

The music is soothing and the ambience is more than enough to keep you going, you pull out your laptop as you start typing ideas for your article.

Gary took the liberty of delivering you your drink saying "You looked very focused" and "There isn't that much customers anyway" and you smiled at the service he's done. He stays for a while insisting that he wants to witness your initial reaction as soon as you taste the coffee. So you slowly blow off the heat and took your first sip.

Your eyebrows raised and your cheeks blushed as the warm beverage tickles your tastebuds a wave of nostalgia brings shivers down your spine.

***

"So, what do you think of this?" A shirtless man with a signature mohawk and scar on his left eye approaches you just as you get up of bed. You remember smiling at the view, his deep blue eyes pierce through yours as he excitedly offers a cup of coffee he claims to mix himself.

"Mmm! This tastes, well... something even I can't describe! It's good? delicious? heavenly maybe?" You giggle as he inches closer to you crawling up the bed and reaching on your face for a kiss, blindly reaching for the cup and putting in on the bedside table.

"Not even the words from your thesaurus can't describe?" He whispers as he pulls the kiss away, eyebrows wiggling. Your heart melts at the sight of him.

"I'll tell you the perfect word when I find it." You giggle as you reach for his face and pull him to yours, as he softly crashes his body on you, rolling around the bed.

***

"Maam?" Gary taps your shoulder and you immediately flinch and turn to him.

"I'm sorry." you laugh nervously.

"It felt like you had a good time going on with that drink. We're having a contest as to which word best describes it. If you want to submit your word, I'll leave this pen and sticky note on your table." he cheerfully explains as the door chimes, making him rush back to his counter.

Shit. You thought to yourself. Of course it had to taste the same, even the name of the shop checks out. Your heart starts to thump louder and louder as you put the pieces together, you convince yourself it's just the coffee, but then again the evidences never lie. John's Brew, that exact taste, no word yet to describe it.

You flinched as you turn to the heavy door slam to your left, just by the counter. A man, walks out of it wearing a very fit long sleeve tucked into business pants, you assume it's the manager. Then again, you see him scratching his head, which happens to have a rather unique haircut. A mohawk. Holy Shit.

***

'Congratulations Ms. Y/N L/N! You have been accepted on the writer program. Please report tomorrow for your orientation.'

The text read just as you wake up. Your face lit up in excitement as you squealed like a kid. Your life would change for the better.

A very wet John MacTavish popped out of the bathroom, his face was full of worry as he quickly wrapped himself with a towel.

"What's wrong?! Something out to get ya?" He asked, a bar of soap on is arms ready to throw to the intruder.

"I just got accepted!" you squealed excitedly at him, hugged him thight not minding how wet he was. He slowly wrapped his arms around you and you felt that you're the only one excited about this news.

"Congrats. But what about your life here? What about me?" he muttered, his facial expressions dropped.

"I'm sure we'll work it out? It isn't that far, right?"

"I'm sure we'll work it out"

"Not now John, I have articles due."

"I'm too exhausted for today, John"

"I'm sorry. I fell asleep."

***

The loud growl of your stomach shocked you back to reality. Come to think of it, it's already 2 in the morning and you're almost through with your article. A muffin won't be that much of a distraction. You turn to the counter and see John catering to a lady on a bright red dress. She probably came from a club and now trying to sober up with a coffee. You pretend to type on your keyboard but secretly view the event from the corner of your eye. They are laughing and he escorted her as she is walking tipsily to the sofa. They exchange some words you barely make out and can't help but feel rage bubbling inside you. But then again, you don't have the slightest audacity to do so. You slowly ignored him while focusing on your job. You left his messages on read and calls on voicemail. You feel guilt rushing through you. Out of impulsive emotions, you quickly decide to finish the article home as you grab your laptop and coffee and rush to the exit.

"Ma'am! You left your sticky note." John's voice echoes across the shop. This made the few notable customers look at the both of us in curiosity.

You slowly turn back to him leaning on the counter, his elbows resting on the counter looking at you, he knows what he's up to. You remember telling him to stop flexing his biceps in front of you in public. It's kind of an inside joke for the two of you and he seems to remember it all too well.

"Your word. For the contest." he points out to the bulletin board of sticky notes on the other side of the hall.

"I... can't think of anything yet..." you stammer as you exit the door, walking as fast as you can away from him.

"Y/N, wait!" he quickly grabs your arm. You almost expect that he'd do this even after all those times.

"John I-" you quicky turn to him, hot tears start forming on your eyes as he pulls you close to his warm embrace.

"Yeah. You've been very busy... I know." He mutters as you sniffle on his chest, smelling his musk that never changed even after all these months.

"Congratulations on your most recent award, you know. Article of the month, and the month before that and that one time you wrote about the wildlife in Africa..." he trails off while rubbing your back as more tears fell from your eyes. He'd been watching your career grow, even after all this time. It somehow feels you don't deserve him. And you believe you really don't.

Pulling away, you looked at him with a smile.

"I'm sorry..." you croak.

"Why are you sorry, Y/N? You met someone else out there?" he asks. Then again, you both didn't really have a proper conclusion to your relationship. You initially felt like you were slowly drifting away from each other as your careers grew, but here he is, having the same sparkle in his eyes as when you last saw each other.

"No... but, it's been very long and I have been ignoring you... breaking my promi-" He suddenly pulls you close and kisses your lips, you deny him at first but you slowly grip his arms and let him have access to your mouth.

Longing is the only feeling you both feel right now as you slowly kiss back and respond to his mouth. His kiss gives you assurance that even after all this time he yearns for you to come back, his assurance that you did what you had to do to get where you are now even at the cost of completely shutting him out. But of course you weren't, you also long for him every single day, but life has to keep going, and you believed that he'd found someone else after all those times. But this moment made you feel wrong about him, and it's now your chance to get things right between the two of you.

"You know, I always assumed you're still my girlfriend." he smirks. He is true though, there was neither a formal nor informal break up effort on both sides, just indifference due to many reasons.

"Well, I assumed you looked for someone else... and I'm to shy to ask how things have been..." you croak, trying not to cry again. You realize your stupidity once more, but he wipes off your tear with his thumb and lifts your chin up to look at him.

"You still owe me a word, you know." he jokes as he walks you back to the cafe, arm wrapped around your shoulder. As soon as you both enter the door, Gary greets his boss while mopping the floor.

"You were right boss, she is pretty!" The barista smiles and gives John a thumbs up to which he replies,

"Guess I'll be back in my office doing paperwork, Gary. You take charge here okay?"

"Yes, Captain!" he jokingly salutes and continues his work.

"You done with that article?" he asks, a tone of concern in his voice.

"Almost.." you reply shyly. You still can't digest everything that happened so far, but your heart keeps on thumping and your mind's been trying to scream something to you.

"You know, I could use some company while I do some paperwork..." the trails off, the tone in his voice shifted into something you felt excited about. Something along those words mixed with that accent sends flutters across your insides.

"If you'd want me to..." you reply as he opens his office door letting you in. It was a small office a sofa just beside the door, two chairs infront of a large office desk filled with scattered papers, ledgers and journals. He quickly folds his laptop and puts it in his bag as you take off your coat, admiring the view. Plaques, certificates and awards plaster across the walls, along with pictures of his staff calendar schedules and some other things scribbled across the whiteboard. He offers his hand and you give him your coat, only to be pinned to the door.

"God, I missed you so fucking much." He breathes as you stare at his cold blue eyes blazing with desire, you know full well where this is going and you have no objections. You wished for this to happen as soon as your plane touched the city.

Unable to form any words, you quickly pucker your lips, signaling him to move closer and kiss you. Now that you're both alone, his kisses felt much more intimate, needier and his tongue explored every possible area he could. You hear the door lock itself and his hand slowly caresses your ass through the tight jeans you're wearing, pressing himself so you could feel the tension growing beneath his slacks. You slowly slide your hand through it and earned yourself a chuckle from him, as he moves his lips below your ear and around your neck, hearing each smack of his lip and sniff of his nose.

You let out a soft moan as you feel overwhelmed on what he does to your body, you couldn't focus on what's going on, your hands rubbing his hard crotch, his hands softly caressing your ass or his mouth doing wonders around your neck. He continues to do this until your pants and whines become erratic and fast and stops just at the right time for you to catch your breath.

You open your eyes to him, who seems to be enjoying your reunion, a sexy smirk across his face. You let out a smile whist still panting, and he seems to like what he sees, letting a soft chuckle.

"I remember that look on you. You're up to something.." He recalls as you push him to the sofa to his side, straddling on his crotch as you unbutton his long sleeves.

He grunts as soon as he plops on the sofa and groans as soon as you slowly wiggle your ass on top of him. You could clearly see the building frustration in his face as well as in his jeans.

You quickly undone seven buttons as he quickly tosses it somewhere and viewed his muscular physique as you sit on him. He became hairier and you find it very sexy, trailing your hand down his body, all while staring at him as seductive as you can. He smiles at the gesture as you slowly unbutton your shirt, never breaking eye contact, until he can't resist anymore and got up from the sofa. He lifts you down and you stand on the floor as he works your way to slide off your jeans. He quickly buried his face on your pussy as soon as he sees it and devours it like a hungry wolf. He never dissappoints as the feeling made you shudder, grabbing onto what's left of his hair in excitement. This goes on up until you softly pull his head out and move to unbuckle his belt, sliding his slacks all the way down as his cock springs free as soon as you take his boxers off.

You stare at him as you slowly jerk your hand around his cock, his eyes almost in a trance, as you teasingly kiss the tip, which was slowly oozing of precum. He grabs your hair and tucks it behind your ear as you slowly swallow his cock, giving him a blowjob that you've always imagined of giving him when you meet again. You're tongue slowly swirling around his length, feeling every vein and skin around it. You countinued mixing it up with your hand and mouth until he groans in anticipation and pulls you out of him.

He slowly gets up and shoves all his paperwork away from his desk and carries you to it, spreading your legs as he slowly pushes his tip on your opening.

You whimper at the first entrance, it felt different than usual, maybe because it's been quite a while since you to have done it, but that didn't stop the both of you from continuing. His eyes mesmerize you as he slowly picks up his rhythm, you can see his chest muscles bounce as he thrusts himself deep in you. He slowly rubs the upper area of your pussy as he thrusts, giving you a sensation that makes you wanna scream in pleasure. But given the circumstances, you only let out small gasps and whimpers. However, his grunts and moans are also getting louder, so you decide to let loose and follow his volume.

"Fuck." You whimper as he continues his fast pace as evidenced by the loud slapping noises. He quickly flips you to the desk and continues to fuck you from behind. Each thrust felt like the desk is inching closer to the wall, you didn't protest as you loved the sensation, how your walls clench as his warm cock slides in and out of you. You feel his motions change and you know full well what that means, you moan softly signaling him thay you're also almost there as he makes his final thrusts and shoots his warm load inside you, feeling the rush of his cum drip as he pulls his cock out.

He pulls you up and reaches for a kiss, a long yet intimate one as you both use the language of kiss to assure that you'll still be the same way no matter how distant it may be.

"See you after my shift?" he murmurs as he puts on his clothes, now all wrinkly and messy.

"Yes." you smile reaching for another kiss.

After preparing to go home, you quickly grab a pen and wrote the word you describe the drink, plaster it on the board and make your way out of the café.

[rjalker]

Made with speech to text, please forgive typos

My cashapp is $Rjalker and I desperately need money so I can pay rent for this month.

It is 12/24/20 and I need AT LEAST $200 for my rent.

$0/200.

This will be updated as I receive donations. Instead of reblogging it from your dash, please click on my URL at the top of the post so that you go to it on my blog, so that you can reblog the newest version.

I am autistic, physically disabled, queer, and unemployed due to Covid19, after working for 10 months of this year as an expendable worker with no hazard pay, exposing myself to literally, I am not exaggerating, I counted, hundreds of maskless people everyday.

I finally had to quit because the stress was driving me insane, after my boss told me, in no uncertain terms, that because I was an employee, I had no basic human rights, and as long as I continue to volunteer to work there, I had no right to complain about the people they were allowing into the store without masks. I was told that because I was an employee, I was expendable in every sense of the word, and it was my own fault for choosing to work there. So I quit.

If you need more reason to donate, in the spring of 2021, I'm going to be giving away tons of free native wildflowers, including milkweed, to help the monarch butterflies which are going extinct, along with any food plants like tomatoes pumpkins peppers, onions anything that I can grow that I can give to other people.

I'm also going to be giving away seeds for wild flowers and food plants, and instructions on how to grow them, instructions on how to save the seeds people get from what they do grow, and then throughout the summer and fall I'll be giving away the food that I've managed to grow, with instructions and recipes on how to prepare and eat and store them.

These will all be given away for free, to anyone in my area (because I don't know how to mail things), and it's something I plan on doing every year from now on. I'm going to put out a tip jar if people want to tip, but mostly I will be requesting, since I don't have a car, that they tip in potting soil or plant pots or things like that to help get more plants growing to give away. I'm also going to put a sign out front that says if you managed to grab something but you don't want to see it's kind of please bring the seeds to me, whether or not you cleaned them yet, so that I can use them to grow more plants or so that I can give them to other people.

Our landlord is an asshole, and the internet bill was part of our rent agreement, but he decided to be a jackass and that's no longer thing, so we don't have internet, all we have is the data for my cell phones. I was attempting to get unemployment, but I am absolutely horrible at typing on my phone's keyboard, which is why this posted being made with speech-to-text, and I there's pretty much no way I'll be able to get it if I have to type out all of that information on this ridiculous little keyboard. I applied for it back in October and I haven't gotten it and I haven't received anything in the mail so I don't even know what I'm fucking doing wrong but. yeah.

Please help me pay rent.

The pinned post on my blog has a link to my GoFundMe, but Cash Out is the preferred donation method because GoFundMe takes a few weeks to actually deposit the donations in my account, and cashapp has an option where it will only take like, 2 days.

I'm making a new post because the GoFundMe was also set up for November's rent, so it currently has $540 in donations, and I think people are getting confused, thinking I have more than I need, but the first 500 was for last month's rent. The only donations I have received for this month is the $40.

With the way things are going I'm probably also going to need help in January, I don't even freaking know how I'm supposed to find another job if I have to apply on my phone, I don't even know what fucking jobs I can actually work, I don't know what jobs are literally worth risking my life for, because I was born with chronic lung disease so if I get covid-19 I will probably fucking die.

I have ehlers-danlos syndrome or whoever the fuck you spell it, which means that my joints dislocate ridiculously easily, which means I can't stand for very long without fucking up either my feet or my legs or my back or something. I didn't even realize how serious it was until this year, when back in February I did some serious fucking thing to my leg that I still don't even know that made it excruciating Lee agonizing for like two fucking months straight. I don't have health insurance, and I don't have a car, I was riding my bicycle 6 miles to fucking work every day with a leg completely just fucked up. I have twice now dislocated a rib because I was sweeping the goddamn floor.

I have no idea when I will be able to find a job let alone a job I'm willing to risk my fucking life for what this fucking pandemic, let alone a job that is not going to destroy my body even more than it already has been. I don't know why I'm apparently not eligible for freaking unemployment, or why I never got anything in the mail, but I am just sick of it. I hate this fucking country.

This was supposed to be a short post but that didn't work.

[saltandburn-ilovesamwinchester]

Have A Drink On Me

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warning: Slow burn .. 18+

Standing in the mirror, you looked closely at yourself. Your addiction to body piercings growing throughout your years now made you self conscious, especially living with the Winchesters. They were perfect. It took everything you had not to find your own place when they would bring their dates back to the bunker, mostly Dean. Your crush on him was enormous and imaginary. There was no way a guy like him could like a clumsy mess of a person like yourself.

The mirror on the dresser made you want to throw it across the room. Until there was a knock. "Come in," you answered and rolled your eyes at your reflection, hiding the worry on your face.

You were thankful to see the kind smile in Sam's eyes when he walked in. Completely opposite of Dean. "Just wanted to say that Dean and I wanted you to know we were going out later,and we wanted you to come with. Ya know.. if you didn't have plans."

Sam was the sweet one. He respected your privacy and needs to wonder without having two bodyguards leaning over your shoulder all the time.

Just when you thought you were totally a lost cause.

Dean, on the other hand, when the three of you would end up at the bunker he would always find a way to disappear from any room you were in. He either had weapons to clean, go on beer runs, or he would fiddle with the car until you found something else to do. Were you really that pathetic?

"That's nice, Sam, but I don't know if I'm up for an adventure tonight," you declined softly and gave him your best fake smile. "I'm not really feeling it."

He looked like he wanted to question you but decided against it. Sam knew if you wanted to talk you would. "Oh, okay," he cast his eyes down his narrow body to his feet and huffed. "We leave at eight if you change your mind." With a single smile your way, he turned and shut the heavy door, leaving you with your thoughts again.

...

Dean's P.O.V.

By lunch the three of your were starving and everyone had different ideas for a meal. "Hey Y/N, I bet you haven't had Dean's sandwiches yet," Sam winked at you from across the table. "They're the best." Dean turned to his little brother with wide eyes.

What the hell is he doing, Dean thought to himself. Sam knew for a while that his brother had a crush on the girl that was two years younger than his baby brother. Every once in a while Sam would catch him staring at her while she would research the things they needed for a hunt. Her tiny hands running across the keyboard. Or Dean would stare in awe as she took on the largest of creatures that go bump in the night. Dean knew things could go bad if he ever went there with her. How could he ever come close to hurting you like that?

I would always find ways to keep myself busy. Just long enough to keep my mind off Y/N. Running through the garage, playing with weapons, and above all avoiding eye contact. Staying away from her but wanting to stay beside her was like fighting a war between my head and heart. I always wanted her, but I knew my consequences if something bad ever happened.

"Mmm..no. I don't think I have," Y/N's beautiful smile spread in my direction. Her smile, Jesus Christ, her smile! If I could keep that smile on her face all day, I would. Then the way her eyebrow piercing would bounce when she laughed or the one on her tongue would sneak past her lips when she would wet them.

"Well, prepare to be amazed," my laugh came out short and fast and I took off to the kitchen. I had to get out of there before little Dean got fired up and my stomach knotted when I heard her feet shuffling behind me.

"Jus' wanted to watch the master chef himself," she smiled at me, her eyes wide and shining. Man I could take her right here if she were willing. Why the hell would she want this, though? Y/N didn't belong in this world. She belonged in a fairytale, with her prince charming, where they ride off into the sunset. Even if I could make her happy, how long would it last?

Well, if this is my shot, I'm shooting it. I grabbed her hands the way I always wanted to and spun her until she was by the refrigerator. "Help me get the stuff out, sweetheart," I grinned and watched her search for everything she wanted on her sandwich.

Y/N had her hands full with stuff and just as she handed me the sliced cheese, it slipped from our hands. We both bent down for it and my hands crossed her small fingers, and I pulled away. I took the rest of the ingredients and worked fast, trying to busy myself from her watching beside me. "And here you go," I happily set the neat sandwich down on her plate, the crust cut off like she requested. If only she would request me to do other things for her..

She licked her lips again before sinking her teeth into the fresh bread. Watching her face light up was pure sweetness. Oh, dear God, I want to be that sandwich. I want to have those little bite marks all over me. My mind was screaming with the urge to ask her out right then. What would she think? Would she laugh? Would she say yes? "Okay, I'm going to make Sam's and let you finish that," I trailed off as my geek brother walked through the kitchen doorway.

He looked at me with those puppy dog eyes, asking if I asked Y/N to go with us yet. "No you," I mouthed back at him." The panic had formed into beads of sweat, luckily only I knew about.

Y/N was completely oblivious to our conversation and Sam put his hands up in surrender and shook his head, "She already told me no."

"Deannn.." Y/N moaned as she took the last bite of her sandwich and the sound didn't go unnoticed by the boys. She was still slumping over the counter top, sandwich in one hand and chip in the other, and her eyes rolled in the back of her head. "That was amazing," she sang lovingly.

Dean closed his mouth that had fallen slack. Did she just make that sound for him? I need to leave right now, he thought to himself then scolded after looking at Sammy with red cheeks. "Hey, are you going out with us tonight," I spoke in a rush. Never had I been so nervous around a girl before. Maybe because she wasn't a girl. Y/N was a woman.

...

Reader P.O.V.

Throughout the day you flip flopped the idea of Sam and Dean's offer in your head. Why in the hell were they so caught up on you leaving the bunker tonight? And what got into you today at lunch? Following Dean's path like a puppy, praising his name over a damn sandwich?

You tucked away all the embarrassing moments and sat up from your place in bed. "Okay," you sighed to yourself and put down the TV remote. "If you are going to do anything, you have to do something with yourself first."

The water and steam in the shower relaxed your muscles a little. You watched the bubbles form on your skin from the body wash and the soft, pink loofah while the sweet smell of the shampoo soaked through your locks of hair. Then, Dean's name appeared in your cloudy brain. Not here. Not now. You cringed at the thought of him seeing you like this and started to scrub that thought out of your head like the bubbles on your body.

When your shower was completely over and you stepped out into the open cool air of the bathroom, you found yourself looking in the mirror again. Your eyes wandered from every hole that had been made by a needle in a piercing shop. One night wouldn't hurt anyone. Would it? You went to work, removing the stud earrings, the tongue piercing, all of it.

Your hair and makeup do over came to an end and you glanced at your straight hair and even eyeliner, proud that your features came together for one night. The red dress that had been a gift from Donna and Jody as a birthday present sat in back of the closet for the longest time. Now, the tight fabric clung to all the right places and the black lace up heels complemented your red toes. It's now or never, you thought and walked out of the comfort of your room.

...

Sam's P.O.V.

"Where is she? Y/N should be here by now," Dean fidgeted in his seat in the library chair. Having to admit that his brother's nervousness about seeing the woman of his dreams all dressed up and the possibility of her liking him too gave Sam the little hope he always held onto. "Do I look okay, Sammy? Too much?"

Sam smiled and laughed at his older brother. All his life he had looked up to Dean. When it was Sam that was nervous about a girl, he didn't talk to his father about it, he went to Dean. Now, seeing him like this, it was Sam's turn for the pep talk. "You look fine, just chill dude. She'll be down in a minute."

"What if I can't do it? What it I look crazy or some lunatic comes up to her before I get a chance to," his brother was panting now and Sam could tell he was about to back out of going. Oh HELL no. He will not ruin this for him nor her.

"Dean, it's okay. You really don't know how much she's into you, do you?" Sam's calm voice flowed through Dean's ears.

Dean looked at his younger brother as if he had two heads. "What are you talking about," his voice went high for a moment and it made Sam giggle.

"Oh, you are hopeless," Sam sighed and played with his thumbs, enjoying this very much. "Buddy, my room is closer to hers and I promise you these walls may hold a very strong power to protect us, but these walls are also very thin," Sam grinned and bit into his lip, wondering if telling Dean this was a good idea.

He watched as his brother's emotions unfolded in the small leather chair. "What? What the FUCK, Sam? Why didn't you tell me this sooner," Dean's out burst made Sam's head fall back with laughter.

Before Sam could say another word Y/N's heels let them know she was getting closer.

...

Reader's P.O.V.

You padded down the bunker's hallway, until you reached the opening of the library. Before stepping into site, you could hear Sam's laughter booming over something Dean had said. These boys, you smiled to yourself.

Your heels clicked a few more strides before stopping in front of the wide table where they sat. "Y/N, you look amazing," Sam smiled and stood from his comfortable chair. Dean had been fiddling with the collar of his shirt but made a double take at you and your new dress. His eyes traveling from your lace ups to your eyes, taking in as much as possible.

"Whoa," he smiled that handsome smile and stepped closer to you. His hand reached out to grab yours and he kissed the top it. You smiled and felt your cheeks turn crimson because his eyes never left yours.

The two of you were so caught up in each other, you forgot Sam was watching the whole thing. "Are you two finished now," he poked fun at his brother and winked at you. "Because if I'm going anywhere, I'm leaving now."

Dean waved him off and turned to your side, holding out his elbow for you. You questioned him silently but took his arm and when Sam was farther away he leaned into you, "Y/N, you look beautiful tonight," his green eyes shined and so did his smile. The two of you had reached the car where his younger brother was and Dean held open the door for you.

When everyone was comfortable the Impala pulled away from the bunker and the night began. "Two more minutes and we should be there," Sam announced from his place in the passenger seat. You looked up from your phone and you met Dean's stare. How long had he been watching you? You licked your lips for show and rubbed your knees together, never taking your eyes off his.

You forced yourself from looking at him and you sat up straighter to see the parking lot of the bar you had just pulled into. Dean was the first out the car and quick to open the door for you. You smiled at his thoughtfulness and took his hand to help you out. "Have a drink, on me. Please," Dean found himself looking at your lips the whole time he ask.

Smiling your best ten of ten smile, the kind that reached your eyes, you nodded and followed him to the bar door.

...

Some how, somewhere this felt right. It sure felt right an hour later when the two of you escaped back to the bunker and into your room. You never would have thought that Dean could have been into you. But now, balls deep inside of you and the bruised and wet skin, gave you the satisfaction of your earlier thoughts.

"So good," you moaned against his lips when he thrust harder into you. Your nails clawed into his back, taking in every inch of him. The bed moving with every stroke turned you on even more. "Dean..." you threw your head back as he found that perfect spot between your neck and shoulder and bit down, coming hard.

Dean brushed his nose against yours, still holding himself above you, "Mine." Your heavy panting and heartbeat slowed when the words left his lips. Your hands still holding his above your head. "Yours," you smiled and kissed him, his tongue fighting yours and he bucked into you again, making you whimper.

.

♤♡◇♧

Hahaaa... so sorry for the wait, yall. But the suffering is over. I hope you enjoyed it! All mistakes are mine. Please tell me what you think. Feel free to comment and share! ❤💋

@waywardbaby @imperiusimpala @leatherandapplepies @idreamofplaid @plaid-lover-bay25 @waywardnerd67 @maddiepants @sammyimpala-67 @oldfreakything @idabbleincrazy @the-magic-rabbit-99 @tumbler-tidbits @shatteredabby @destielhoneybee @cosicas-cuquis @heycasbutt @flamencodiva @coffee-obsessed-writer

https://saltandburn-ilovesamwinchester.tumblr.com/tagged/my-masterlist

[dailytechnologynews]

Is there really not a perfect 11.5-13.5" Windows tablet choice?!

Hello guys. For the past week i've been researching to find the perfect windows tablet choice for my specific application need. However it seems there isn't even one device that doesn't have some type of throwback. I'm not asking for everything, but it seems it is either hit or miss, even if you take into account overpriced products. Please hear me out and let me know your thoughts.

I am essentially looking for a WINDOWS TABLET which its primary purpose is to be fitted to my car as a secondary "dash" per say so i can use it to interact with my aftermarket motorsports ecu. It will function as a monitoring dash for the most of the time, but can be used to datalog (aka record data) or for direct tuning (so i don't have to bring my laptop everytime i need to make changes to my engine calibration). I wouldn't mind using it at home as well since i will have it, but mostly will work as a travel/trip companion since i have a PC at home. It has to be a WINDOWS tablet as the software that interfaces with the ecu is only windows based.

After thinking and revising my requirements several times after getting disappointed by what is available here is the break down:

Dimensions: Height needs to be around ~205mm +10mm max so the tablet can be secured in the glove box when not in use. Ideally height should be maximized so that the display area is maximized as well. Length larger than 300mm is not a problem but would get annoying to fit to the car since it will extend more towards the passenger side. This effectively limits me to ~11.8-13.3" tablets, so Microsoft Surface Pro can be used as a reference design (since i haven't seen bezel-less windows tablets yet) Display: This is the most important attribute of the tablet. 1080p absolute minimum resolution, 2K ideally, 3K is probably not gonna be noticeable at the usage distance. Here is a screenshot from my 1080p laptop so you can see the ECU software in datalog mode (slightly cropped but so you can get an idea: http://content.invisioncic.com/r260425/monthly_2017_09/fuel_pressure_link.png.bc827c0a96fe120632f1d7c168e66a64.png However let's not forget brightness and contrast. Brightness should be ~400nits or better for a glossy display, and contrast should be considered over color accuracy. Viewing angle in the length span should be at least 150deg but i think it is hard nowadays to find such a bad display panel. Finally a fully laminated panel is recommended. Physical interfaces: I essentially need a single full size USB port so i can connect my ECU to the tablet. After my research i decided to allow for USB-C assuming that i can get a dongle that will allow me to interface without any issues; but it's best not to allow for that route due to possible incompatibility issues (like what happened when usb3.0 was released). Extra USB ports, USB-C that allows charging and data, video output port, headphone jack, m.2 expansion slot, sd card slot are all pluses. Wireless interfaces: Min wifi and bluetooth. 802.11AC and bluetooth v4.2 or better all pluses. CPU/GPU performance: Generally something better than N3450 (tested my brother's CHUWI surbook mini) and more recent will help, GPU performance is irrelevant for the task so the majority of intergrated GPU's will do fine. RAM: 4GB absolute minimum, 8gb ideal Cooling: I prefer passive cooling, but usually the cooling solution used is sh*t. At least in some cases it can be modded (i'm experienced and willing to do) Battery: 4 hours light use with full display brightness as minimum. If charging is performed over USB-C i hope it is not the stupid kind of power->battery->device like in phones and can work like in laptops where the battery is not used when power is supplied to the laptop. This way you don't wear out the battery since the device will be connected to power most of the time it is operated. Storage: 64gb absolute min, ideal min should be 128gb, speed is relative but i think at least m.2 sata interface ssd; NVME huge + Others: Pen support and attachable keyboard are pluses, but i plan on using a good bluetooth keyboard with backlight (required) so it makes them irrelevant if the tablet is good, Thunderbolt 3 is a +, unlocked bios +, kickstand should work on a lap without cutting your pants off and stay in one place, sd card reader + Reliability: From what i read most chinese tablets are pretty bad with both hardware and software issues out of the box. Backcover should be metal to act as heatsink and be stiff enough, weight and thickness is not that important Condition: New or used. I believe some products offer better value when bought used and others because have been discontinued Pricing: My budget is flexible but depending on the features lots of them are overpriced especially bought new. I would say ~500eur for a new tablet with min features required and 1000eur for one with better hardware. Considering i'm building a 7nm PC in a couple of months the market pricing is really unacceptable for most windows tablets. Blame Apple for it, but i'm not a rich consumer neither i am a sheep. Performance to value is what i always look for.

I literally checked every windows tablet and 2-in-1 i believe. Here some potential picks and what i didn't like.

Microsoft Surface Pro (4 - 5 - 6): At first glance it is a good base candidate..but..really Microsoft? It's 2019 and no USB-C? Proprietary connector and overpriced hardware? Questionable reliability? Get the f*ck out of here. Unless you find a good used deal i don't think it would be worth it. Another Apple wannabe. Eve-tech EVE V: This is one tablet that hits all the boxes, kinda, since by now it is almost obsolete in terms of CPU performance..sadly while i'm greek-cypriot i would go with the stereotypical view for greeks because the CEO is a "malakas" and i'm really sorry to all the people that were scammed. On the other hand i believe there is some truth to the Paypal issues he had since my friend had similar issues (because of not much experience) and even I couldn't help him get them fixed as Paypal is run by assholes as well which need a punch to the face (their excuse it is the system and they can't do anything about it - like wtf). I still use it but the time a different payment system reaches similar adoption i would gladly switch. Chuwi Surbook: Slow CPU, screen is not fully laminated, mediocre specs but was good price at some time ago. Maybe the announced "surbook pro" would fair better? Voyo Vbook i5/i7 Plus: Nice screen, fair pricing? Not the most quality build, shitty battery, i7 model throttles? Teclast X6 Pro: A slightly better vbook i5? No full detailed reviews yet, and i wasn't that impressed from the previous X5 review Alldocube Knote 8: Seems good on paper, but no type-A usb ports Jumper EZpad 6: Possibly the only windows tablet in stock with a good value, however i need something with a better and larger display Acer Switch 3/5: Mediocre screens, single type-A port on the right side (since my car is RHD and the ecu is on the left side i would prefer it on the left side), shitty battery performance, a little overpriced Dell XPS 12 9290/Latitude 5290/Latitude 7285: Great displays, powerful, only 5290 has type-A port, mediocre battery life, overpriced but there are good used deals Asus Transformer 3 Pro T303UA/T304UA: Premium specs but discontinued, expensive, only 1 type-A port and it is on the right side (again), T304 is a huge step backwards even though newer (what the heck Asus, are you drunk?) Lenovo ThinkPad X1: Overpriced, no type-A ports, Gen3 is too big and has display coating issues, Gen2 is more suitable due to size and type-a interface but older and screen brightness not that good - all too tall Lenovo MIIX series: new 630 uses an ARM processor so no go (since i can't force the software developpers to re-compile), 720 rates very high in the features i need, 2 usb type-A ports, nice display, etc. 520 is a little newer with weaker hardware but still good for its price HP Pro X2/Envy X2/Elite X2 1012: HP's other offerings like the Elite X2 1013 are too tall for my needs, and while they have good displays and good build quality i am not font of their design decisions. I have a Zbook 17 G5 workstation at work we bought new and not even 6 months passed and the CPU fan now rattles like crazy..here's my 1st day rant about it: https://h30434.www3.hp.com/t5/Notebook-Hardware-and-Upgrade-Questions/Note-to-HP-Zbook-17-G5-design-engineers-Please-read-and/td-p/6914797 Also they are overpriced like crazy. I wouldn't ever think of buying again from them. Also the power supply is proprietary as some of the internal hardware. F*ck HP Huawei MateBook E: Aside the lack of ports it is a pretty good designed device, display is perfect but slightly smaller than the biggest i can fit - depending on price it might be a good consideration assuming i can run a USB-C dock i can charge within the car Samsung Galaxy Book 12: Similar to the Huawei above, just a little faster but with a worse display, extra usb-C port. Older and more expensive than the Huawei Toshiba Portege X30T and others: Ports are on the keyboard and not on the tablet, won't work for me.

I think i've covered 99% of the options but i may could have missed 1 or 2. To be honest i won't need this tablet for another 3-6months i would guess but at least i've done my research so i will be prepared when the time comes to buy one. What do you think? I know i went a little crazy but i'm that type of person that never regrets his purchasing choices because i don't buy blindly.

[darapnerd]

G33k HQ Presents: MC Front-A-Lot Interview

Interview Questions From G33K-HQ & Darealwordsound (Wordy): Nerdcore Interview Collaboration Questions

MC Front: Thank you for bearing with me! So sorry to continually drop the ball on this. Here you go.

Wordy: What was your first creative outlet? MC Front: I seem to remember kindergarten involving a lot of drawing. First and second grade had poetry exercises sometimes. But the way we played D&D between 2nd and 6th grades was how my imagination really got fired up. We didn\'t like dice and maps that much. We\'d take turns DMing and just sort of freestyle the stories to each other at recess. Wordy:  What was the first rap album you ever purchased? MC Front: It was also my first CD. DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince, He\'s the DJ, I\'m the Rapper. Wordy: Who are your biggest music inspirations?

  MC Front: Tom Waits, Public Enemy, Bjork

Wordy: Describe your studio to us.

  MC Front: I have an Ikea desk that\'s been out of print for 10 years so I get fussy when anyone leans on it. Creaky, cheap old thing. It\'s the only one where you can bolt the rotating side shelves at any height. Perfect for the near-field monitors and re-aiming them for any version of the stereo field. I mix there in my bedroom which isn\'t treated, but I\'ve been in there so long that I can work around most of the room effects. I have a coat closet fully treated, very dead and dry, for vocals. I keep some buttons in there to engineer myself, but everything\'s still happening on the studio computer. My pre-amp and mics and monitors are satisfactory. I could use a better ADC/DAC.

  I will record occasional hand percussion, etc, in that closet booth, but very little fits in there. For other acoustic capture, I\'ll rent time at a real studio (any time I\'m tracking my drummers) or I\'ll go field-record strings at someone\'s apartment.

  A solid two thirds of the non-vocal sound on the albums is electronic, and I can get keyboard performances or work on drum machine material in the project studio without worrying about the ambient noises of Brooklyn.

  Wordy: Describe your ideal home studio if money wasn\'t a problem.

  MC Front: A proper treatment of the mixing room would be great. I guess I\'d have twenty of these Avalon pre-amps and a little drum room, as well as a booth big enough for upright bass or cello. There is almost unlimited fanciness available in the hardware market... I guess I\'d have to make a hobby out of shopping. I\'d still use Reaper as my DAW, though -- the least expensive version of that kind of software, and also the best. I could probably spend sixty grand on plugins.

Wordy: What is your creative process for writing and or producing a song?

MC Front: Baddd Spellah, my Canadian beatsmithing partner, has been kind enough to work on grooves with me for the last fifteen years. Usually I will start with something he\'s been kicking around, or he\'ll take a pass at some live drum that I\'ve been chopping up, and we\'ll add keyboard material from Gm7 (Gaby Alter), my longtime music co-writer. When there is a verse-appropriate groove that is in pretty good shape, I\'ll leave it on loop and write. Once in a while, I\'ll write a hook over a groove that feels like a chorus, and start from there. After I\'ve got most of a lyric, I\'ll put down a scratch vocal so that Spellah and I can build a full song arrangement. Then I\'ll record too many takes of the final vocal, and spend too many months dicking around with the comp, the mix, and all the instrumental details. Finally I\'ll listen to it on as many different devices as I can, fine-tune the mix, and stay up for a week and a half making increasingly bad decisions about everything on the album, leading up to the mastering appointment I foolishly committed to several months prior.

  Wordy: What is your happiest On-Stage Moment?

  MC Front: I think a PAX crowd demanded a second encore once. That makes you feel like a superstar.

Wordy: What was your favorite song to write or record?

  MC Front: Maybe Stoop Sale? But that might be because the video came out so well. For the most part, my happiness with the process relies entirely on the result: it makes me happy to listen to a track if I don\'t just hear a barrage of fuckups that it\'s too late to go back and fix. But there aren\'t very many of those. Of all my lyrics, I\'m probably proudest of Two Dreamers from the Question Bedtime album. I feel like I worked out every bit of the story and then obscured it just enough that the listener\'s careful attention is rewarded.

Wordy: What advice do you have for aspiring artists?

  MC Front: Practice a lot, develop your talent. Get the skills you need to properly communicate with whoever your creative partners are. Take the craft seriously but give yourself a break for not having mastered it -- that is a lifelong process with no actual end goal.

Wordy: What project do you feel best describes you as an artist?

  MC Front: The Nerdcore Rising documentary probably says more about me and the band than I\'d ever be able to, and in kinder words. Of my own projects, I like the Zero Day and Solved albums as a window into whatever it is I\'m trying to say about nerdcore.

Wordy: How do you feel about the disconnect between \"Nerdcore\" and \"HipHop\"?

  MC Front: Well, hip-hop is a cultural movement with very specific origins and elements. Rap is a formal music style that emerged from hip-hop. Any \'variation\' or \'new perspective\' that someone brings to rap is fine -- if meaningless. It might matter that you came up with a new thing to say, but the fact that you chose an unusual form for your expression should be the least interesting thing about it. You can write a march for your peace movement, even if marches come from military music, because the march itself is just a formal style of composition. You\'d be smart to note the ironic relationship there, or you\'d be dumb to suggest that there isn\'t one, or that your choice to use a march as an expression of pacifism somehow reaches backward and affects the origin of the form. Anyone who thinks they\'re \'expanding\' or \'liberating\' hip-hop from its roots by rapping about things that haven\'t been rapped about traditionally is probably an idiot. 

  My idea about hip-hop was only to observe that it was cool. Like, it was the coolest thing happening in American culture when I was a kid, and it probably still is. Breakdancers were the coolest kids on the playground. Graffiti kids were the coolest outlaws in fourth grade. And rappers were the coolest possible composers of verse.

  To want to compose and perform verse in that formal style without having any direct connection to hip-hop, and without being cool, is the sort of desire nerd kids might express by themselves, away from arbiters of hipness, and share only with other uncool kids. The idea of nerdcore went no deeper than that, originally. I\'m glad that a lot of other DIY rappers have found that resonant enough to expand upon.

  Wordy: Do you feel more \"Nerdcore\" rappers should know about its roots in \"HipHop\"?

  MC Front: Definitely. I remember trying to write a Villanelle in a college poetry class. First, we had to read and dissect a sheaf of them. The professor was of the opinion that we would all flounder in the assignment, because there had been only a handful of good Villanelles ever written. I\'m sure none of us wrote one of lasting value. The point was to learn how formal composition connects works, and to appreciate the complications. You can always just do it anyway. But knowing where it comes from and how it\'s been attempted before teaches you how to try to do it well. I think anyone who wants to compose lyrics within the rap genre should know all they can about how raps have been composed so far.

  That doesn\'t even begin to address the cultural issue. Some artists misidentify nerdcore as comedy music, and worse yet, think the joke is \"it\'s rap, but white kids are doing it.\" I think that outlook leads to the weakest possible songs, and is generally disrespectful of hip-hop in a way that concerns me and offends anyone who cares about American culture. Of course, not all of the nerdcore rappers are white, but all of the schticky ones are. I wonder if a delve into hip-hop\'s history would cure them of that impulse, or at least afford them the humility to hush it up.

Wordy: Are you involved in any philanthropy in your local communities or abroad?

  MC Front: I try to do something in support of Child\'s Play every year. I\'m going to contribute to the upcoming Worldbuilders album project.

Wordy: Can you freestyle? Meaning rap off the top of the head? If so, can we see you drop a few bars next time live?

  MC Front: I never do this! I think I\'ve conditioned myself into a certain kind of vanity. Almost everything on the albums is rapped in complete sentences, with rhymes that I\'ve never used previously. Freestyling doesn\'t work that way. I\'m too ashamed to let anyone see me freestyling about the frog, on a log, in a bog, who got sog-gy.

Wordy: Do you consider yourself a “GEEK”?

  MC Front: Of course.

Wordy: In your own words, describe what the word “GEEK” means to you?

MC Front: I decided at some point a long time ago that geeks are all direct descendants of the side-show geek, whose job was biting heads off of chickens. They weren\'t special in any way, except that they were willing and able to do that thing, and it was a fairly extreme thing to do. But because nobody else at the carnival was willing to go to that extreme, the geekery came to seem like a highly specialized skill.

  That\'s why you can be a geek about anything. You just need a topic where your knowledge or expertise is so specialized that it seems distastefully extreme to non-geeks. You can geek out about fantasy novels or about robot AIs. But you can also geek out about car engines or cooking. You don\'t have to be a nerd to geek out.

  Nerds are almost always geeks, and their subjects of geekery are often recognizably nerdy. But a nerd is something else, a person who was already too weird or too smart, and felt alienated, and embraced geekery as an alternative to whatever broader pursuits the cool kids enjoyed.

  Wordy: What is your earliest geek memory?

  MC Front: I was a Star Wars geek starting at age three and a half when the first one came out. It was the only thing I wanted to do. I made adults take me to see it 11 times before Empire came out (I kept careful count). I collected the Kenner figures obsessively until they stopped making new ones a year or two after Jedi.

  Wordy: What is your \"Geek\" hobby? Do you collect comic books? Anime? Video games?

  MC Front: I do still love comics, but I own too many. Video games take up less space. I spend more time gaming than I do working on music, occasionally 70 or 80 hours in a week. It\'s as much an emotional self-medication as it is a hobby.

Wordy: Who are your Top 5 emcees dead or alive?

  MC Front: In no order: Busdriver, MF Doom, Del, Q-Tip, Chuck D

Wordy: When is your next show or tour?

  MC Front: When I get the dang old album done! Maybe spring 2017 for tour. PAX South is the soonest lone show.

Wordy: Do you have a new album coming out?

  MC Front: It\'s called INTERNET SUCKS, and it is going to have a heavy \'get off my lawn\' vibe. Everyone will be mad at me, yet secretly agree with every word on the record. Watch for it to take your feeds by storm.

  http://frontalot.com

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