#van halen lyrics

[memes-for-the-meme-kind]

Song Lyrics That Hit Hard Sentence Starters

"We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl year after year."

"I don't need your civil war; it feeds the rich while it buries the poor."

"How I wish you were here."

"There's such a sad look deep in your eyes."

"Come on you target of far away laughter!"

"I'll place the skies within your eyes."

"Come one you stranger, you legend, you martyr, and shine!"

"There's a fooled heart beating so fast in search of new dreams, a love that will last within your heart."

"You could be mine, but you're way out of line!"

"And as the pain sweeps through, makes no sense for you."

"I wish I lived in the present, with the gift of my past mistakes, but the future keeps luring in like a pack of snakes."

"But I'll be there for you as the world falls down."

"Your sweet little eyes, your little smile, is all I remember."

"We're choosing the path between the stars."

"We don't need our thoughts controlled."

"Ooh I've crossed one hundred thousand miles, I'm feeling very scared."

"All in all its just another brick in the wall."

"Planet earth is blue, and there's nothing I can do."

"So just spread your wings!"

"Your circuit's dead: there's something wrong!"

"We'll get higher and higher straight off the gound!"

"I move the stars for no one!"

"Higher and higher, leave it all behind!"

"Your eyes can be so cruel!"

"So baby dry eyes!"

"Just as I can be so cruel!"

"Oh, that's what dreams are made of!"

"Though I do believe in you!"

"Cuz we belong in a world that must be strong!"

"Love without the sunlight."

"Standing on broken dreams, never losing sight!"

"Life without your heartbeat."

"And in the end our dreams they will begin!"

"I can't live within you."

"Cuz that's what love is made of!"

[swimminginyokohamasrivers]

Might as well jump! (Jump!) ;3

[musicmags]

[amythehobbit]

I found the simple life ain't so simple, when I jumped out on that road.

I got no love, no love you'd call real.

Ain't got nobody waiting at home.

[c0kewh0re6969]

You also kinda look like Alex Van Halen

Def same vibes

[fuckyeahvanhalen86-95]

Wolfgang Van Halen has shared the latest single from Mammoth WVH’s upcoming album, Mammoth II, titled Take a Bow – notable for being the longest song he’s recorded so far, with some very special gear choices.

Namely, Take a Bow was put together with the help of Eddie Van Halen’s legendary Frankenstein electric guitar, as well as one of the original Marshall amp head and cab combos that informed the sound of Van Halen’s early years.

It’s a song that Mammoth WVH fans have been patiently waiting for ever since the band’s leader revealed such historic equipment would have a cameo on Mammoth II during a conversation with Guitar Interactive earlier this year.

Brought out of the Van Halen gear vault for the track’s solo, the Frankenstein is wielded impeccably by its custodian for Take a Bow’s guitar solo, which crops up around the halfway mark during the seven-minute song.

Remarkably, its presence can not only be heard but felt. A handful of wailing bends announces its arrival, before some lithe pentatonic licks lure listeners in for the main fretboard firework show.

As you’d expect, Wolfgang further channels the tones and techniques of his late father by rifling through two-hand tapping licks aplenty, each passage increasing in urgency and technicality as the solo speeds along.

Understandably, Van Halen said he felt the solo turned out “really special,” and said it made him happy to “capture some of dad’s history on this song forever.”

“It was the last song we finished. It’s officially the longest song I’ve released to date, and I feel the guitar solo is really special,” he said of Take a Bow. “I played the solo on the original Frankenstein guitar and through Dad’s original Marshall head and one of the original cabinets.”

“It’s straight up what he used on the earliest Van Halen records. It makes me happy to capture some of Dad’s history on this song forever.”

During his previous conversation with Guitar Interactive, Van Halen spoke of Take a Bow beyond the spotlight-stealing gear choices, describing the song as an “evolution.”

“That moment when I came up with it was like, ‘Okay, this is one of those evolutions,’” he reflected. “This was not on the first album, and this is a new side of myself that I think you start to unravel and see as time goes on.”

“That’s a really special moment. I think it’s one of the more special things I’ve recorded with Mammoth. I’m very excited for people to hear it.”

On the gear front, it’s not the first time the Frankenstein has been used on a Mammoth WVH track – Wolfgang also recruited his father’s Holy Grail guitar for his first studio album – nor will it be the only guest gear to cameo on Mammoth II.

While documenting the album’s recording process, Wolfgang also shared pictures of the other guitars that would be making it on to the tracklist. That collection includes the radically modified Gibson SG from Dirty Movies and a Veilette Citron Shark baritone guitar.

Mammoth II – which has been previewed with Another Celebration at the End of the World and Like a Pastime – is available to preorder now ahead of its August 4 release.

[sunchasedkiss]

80s Music Lyrics: Billy Hargrove 2/3

[fhear]

Ain't talkin' bout love Van Halen lyrics

[my-chaos-radio]

Release:  December 21, 1983

Lyrics:

I get up and nothin' gets me down

You got it tough, I've seen the toughest around

And I know, baby, just how you feel

You got to roll with the punches to get to what's real

Ah, can't you see me standin' here?

I've got my back against the record machine

I ain't the worst that you've seen

Ah, can't you see what I mean?

Ah, might as well jump (jump)

Might as well jump

Go ahead and jump (jump)

Go ahead and jump

Hello, hey you

Who said that?

Baby, how you been?

You say you don't know

You won't know until you begin

So can't you see me standing here?

I've got my back against the record machine

I ain't the worst that you've seen

Ah, can't you see what I mean?

Ah, might as well jump (jump)

Go ahead and jump

Might as well jump (jump)

Go ahead and jump

Jump

Might as well jump (jump)

Go ahead and jump

Get it and jump (jump)

Go ahead and jump

Songwriter:

Jump

Jump

Jump

Jump

Alex Van Halen / David Roth / Edward Van Halen

SongFacts:

👉📖

Homepage:

Van Halen

[luveline]

hi jadey!! can i request something with steve? maybe where reader used to be in a relationship where the other person made her to do all the work ( put in the groceries, clean the house, etc.) and one day steve is taking care of some of the chores and reader freaks out cause she’s the one supposed to be doing it?? it’s just an idea, no pressure lovely! hope you’re having a good day 🫶🫶

ty gorgeous! fem!reader

Steve hums when he's busy. No pretentiousness, no shame, he sings lyrics, guitar, and occasionally drums, too. You can hear him in the kitchen singing that Van Halen song he loves, his voice twisted tight as he tries to hit a high note. 

"Are you making a sandwich?" you ask hopefully, hanging your coat on the hook as you trudge in from the front door. 

You're in the kitchen before Steve's collected the wits to answer you. Your jaw falls open. 

"Hey, babe," he says. It's difficult to tell if the pet name is joking or serious, Steve in his pyjamas with his sleeves rolled up, his lips quirked into a funny smile as though he's pleased to see you but confused at the same time. "No? Did you want one?" 

"What are you doing?"

Steve holds his games up in surrender, a cloth held in the left. "I'm wiping down the counters?" 

"Why?" 

"I do this every Friday before you get home." 

"What?" 

Steve takes the cloth to the sink to rinse it out. Bleach bubbles squeeze from the fabric. "Am I doing it wrong? This is how I always do it. Wipe the counters, vacuum, mop. Why are you back so early?" 

"Steve, you don't have to clean. I… that's my job." 

"Then what's mine?" he asks, turning off the faucet and dropping the wet cloth at the bottom of the basin. He wipes his hands dry with a hand towel, ushering your forward with a gesture of his index finger. "Come here…" He wraps his arms around you. "All you do lately is work." Steve kisses your cheek three quick times. "Miss you."

You blink a little, overwhelmed, still worried. "Do I not do it right? It's okay if I don't, I can–" 

"Do what? The counters? No. I just figured it's my turn before the weekend starts and you go on your cleaning frenzy. Which isn't your job, by the way. I don't know why you think that." 

He's light-hearted, but your silence spurns him into a more serious tone. Taking your face into one still-damp palm, he narrows his eyes until they're more brown than anything else and says, "Do you really think it's your job?"

"I'm the girl." 

"And I'm so stoked about that, but…" He smiles, pulling your cheek with his thumb to encourage the same. "That's not right. Do you even like cleaning?" 

"I don't have to like it, it's housework." 

Steve can't seem to decide whether this is serious or not. He goes from smiling to frowning to impassive, his fingers rubbing a slovenly path down your cheek. Strands of hair like lace drift into his eyes as he ducks his head, his gaze on your chest. "It's housework for the house we both live in. I know you've been doing more of it since we moved in, and I'm really sorry. I'm lazier than you. I should've asked you about it, but now I've let you do more and you think you need to do all of it. I'm a dick." 

"No, you're not." 

"I'm a total dick. You think you have to clean up after me?" He brings you in for another hug. "Holy fuck, baby. I'm a grown up." 

You bristle at first, but relax the longer he holds you, his words sinking in steady. He's not criticising you; Steve is apologising and self-deprecating. You slide your arms behind his back and breathe in his smell, all things boy but with the sharp smell of bleach lingering. 

"I did it myself. You know, before. So that's why it feels like it's mine to do. Not your fault," you say into his chest. 

Steve pulls away. "Thanks, but I'm a huge dick no matter what." 

He marches you backwards and forces you back into one of the chairs at the dining table. You grab at his arms as he attempts to walk away, lifting your chin to kiss him. It distracts him for a while, the soft, slow press of his lips against yours, your hand in his hair scratching tenderly, but he can't be kept forever. Steve ends your kissing with a peck and beelines for the fridge.

"What are you doing?" you ask. 

"Making you a sandwich. Dinner and a show tonight, did I forget to tell you? You can eat the best BLT in the western hemisphere and I'm gonna vacuum the crumbs from under the toaster. Perfect Friday night, right?" 

[total-dxmure]

ೃ࿔ CHERRY FLAVORED →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER ONE

pairing: mega fan!ellie williams x rock star!reader

summary: your guitarist was carted off to rehab after just one month into your recent tour. fuck. there’s only one thing you can do, and that’s hire a replacement. your band thinks it’s going to be nearly impossible to find someone that is on the same level of talent as your “beloved” guitarist. you don’t have high hopes that anyone can nail the songs quite like he did either, if you’re being brutally honest. enter ellie- she’s a mega fan. the girl knows every lyric and note like the back of her hand. . . and everything about you, which isn’t creepy at all. her apparent obsession with you is something that you and your tour manager can overlook if it means carrying on with the rest of the tour. forced proximity with a stalker-level fan . . . what’s the worst thing that could happen?

warnings: smut in next chapter, talk of substance abuse, the reader is a tease and a bit of a bitch but it’s hot i promise, ellie is obsessed with reader to an unhealthy degree.

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

It was the kind of love that tortured poets mused over. Ribs straining against a heavy heart. 

Ellie had deluded herself, as any love drunk person does, that she wouldn’t dissolve into a puddle on the floor if she were to meet you. She could keep her cool- downplay the crushing significance you held in her life. Your voice was constantly ringing in her ears. She could see your face in perfect clarity any time she closed her eyes. Pictures like snapshots played out behind her eyelids, and yet you always felt a million miles away for her. You were a perfect performer, situated on your sky-high pedestal, always out of her puny reach. 

Because Ellie, as much as she despised this fact and dreamed of greatness, was a nobody. She grew up in a tiny town of no noteworthiness, her adolescent years spent dreaming about the planets and playing guitar with Joel. By all accounts Ellie was normal, while you were certainly not. Still, she liked to tell herself that she’d somehow manage to make herself worthy of your affections if she were ever to be blessed with them. 

Finding herself in a situation like this seemed like an impossibility. She was partially convinced that she was daydreaming, having concocted some elaborate fantasy just to feed the insatiable ache. She was starved for you with no way to feed herself. 

All it had taken was a single audition tape. One. Single. Tape. Ellie was staring, wide eyed, at Gene fuckin’ Murray. 

The blood rushed from her head, hands breaking out instantaneously into a clammy sweat. She couldn’t think, couldn’t function at the realization that she was staring at one of the people that she had worshiped for years. Gene’s talent had been praised by the likes of Lars Ulrich and Danny Carey. He wasn’t popular just for his looks but for his undeniable talent. 

And he was staring straight at Ellie, arms crossed over his toned chest as he waited expectantly. She felt like an idiot. Should she be playing? If so, what did they want her to play? Surely one of their songs. She’d glossed past the fact that she was a megafan, instead making it sound like she was just looking for a successful band to join. She was talented. No, Ellie was really talented. 

She wasn’t just a technical player, but excelled at making her own rules. She enjoyed the creative freedom that playing the guitar granted, and felt as though the world needed more Jimi’s and Van Halen’s. Ellie excelled at thinking outside of the box. 

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her. 

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her. 

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her. 

So she took a deep breath and tried to steady her heart, once again stepping up to the mic. If there was one thing that all of your bandmates had in common, it was the attitude. She’d watched hundreds of interviews, had studied all of their movements and mannerisms. . .she understood you down to a science. 

“So do you want me to play or what?” Ellie spoke into the mic, gripping the neck of the guitar in the hopes that it might act as an anchor. She was scared that she might float away. 

The manager’s eyebrows twitched at her sudden change in attitude but he didn’t say anything, merely turned to look at Gene. For a second everyone just stared at her, like a bug under a microscope. After what felt like five minutes but was really just five seconds, Gene broke out into a grin, motioning to her with a flick of his wrist. He wasn’t confident in her, Ellie could tell. 

She had a sweet face, she knew that. Big green eyes and freckles- she was unsuspecting. People were usually shocked to find out that she had wrestled competitively in high school and had no problem putting a man three times her size on his ass. People expected very little from her, and perhaps that was part of Ellie’s real charm. 

“What song?” She was staring at Gene now, gripping her guitar pick between two sweat-slick fingers. 

“What ‘bout ‘Sometime Soon’? Know that one?” His tone was teasing. Condescending. 

The song was fast paced. It was supposed to be played loud and hard- one of your angrier songs. Ellie knew that you had been the one to write this one, meaning it was one of her favorites. The notes weren’t beginner friendly, but it wasn’t exactly hard for her. 

It was more style, less technical ability- which meant that Ellie would have no problem making this song her bitch. 

It was obvious that Gene was the one meant to judge her. The manager was just that- a manager. They needed an actual musician to listen in. So she took a deep breath and readied herself. . . 

and then the sound of your singing voice blasted into the booth. Drums, bass- she was meant to play with you. 

She almost missed her que, eyes widening in nervousness. She thought that she’d be playing all by her lonesome. She thought wrong it would seem. They’d started her off right in the middle of the song. Probably to throw her off. She jumped in, fingers sliding along the frets to shape out the correct notes. She tucked her guitar pick against the palm of her hand with her thumb, using the pads of her fingers to tap the strings. Faster. Faster. Faster. She didn’t look up from her guitar to look at the men’s reactions to her playing. Instead she just pretended she was standing in the living room of her apartment, hellbent on getting another noise complaint from the bitchy nextdoor neighbor. 

Her calloused fingers pinched the strings, satisfied with the way the guitar whined over the speakers. The guitar solo in this song was meant to be impressive- and it was, she had to give it to Leon. A lot of it was just bullshitting though. He’d admitted that he came up with the solo in the actual sound booth off of the top of his head while they were recording the song. 

The man was a god. He deserved “guitarist of the year” two years in a row. Ellie had the Los Angeles native beat though. Where he had grown up in the constant presence of “the greats”, Ellie had grown up in a constant state of boredom. She’d been playing the guitar since she was fourteen. Every day she’d sit down for hours and practice until her fingers bled. . . literally. She had thousands of hours on Leon, and she knew that with certainty. 

Ellie moved the guitar up and down gently with her fret hand, prolonging the last note so that it cried the way she wanted it to. The muscles in her arms were sore from how hard she had been tensing during the song. She’d been a lot more mechanical about it than she was used to, but she had something to prove. 

After a second she looked up from her guitar to gauge everyone’s reactions. The manager had dropped his cold and indifferent demeanor, instead flashing her a small smile. It bolstered her, gave her the strength to turn and look at Gene. 

He still had his arms crossed over his chest, and for a second Ellie was sure that he would tell her that she sucked. She widened her stance, shuffling her feet so that she was in a more defensive position. His heated gaze made her feel as though she needed to protect herself from whatever mental anguish he was about to put her through. 

“I thought she was kick ass,” Gene finally spoke up, giving Ellie a small thumbs up. Her face lit up into a wide smile before she could school her reaction into one of indifference. “What do you think? You’re the one that calls all the shots.” He spoke behind him, looking down at someone that had been hidden on the couch all along. 

Ellie squinted her eyes, taking a step closer to the glass to see if there was another businessman she’d somehow overlooked. 

She saw your hair before she saw anything else. It was freshly dyed, different than the last she’d seen you in all of the recent tabloid photos. You were clad in leather- pants so tight that they looked like a second skin. Your top was just as restrictive, breasts spilling out from the top, midriff revealed to show off the small silver piercing you had decorating your belly button. 

You were Hecate in the flesh- dark, sinister, mysterious and capable of anything. Ellie didn’t think that it would be possible, but you were even prettier in person. The sight of you sent a shock through her system, and for a second she felt her knees quiver, as if she could no longer hold up the weight of her own body. Her insides turned to mush; white, hot mush. 

The Stendhal syndrome: Ellie had been brought to the very precipice of existence by sight alone. She was so overcome by your mere existence that she felt her eyes begin to well up with tears. Body trembling, eyes locked on to your face and nothing else- it felt like she might faint. She remembered reading about the syndrome once before in an art history class she took in college. 

“Absorbed in the contemplation of sublime beauty. . . I reached the point where one encounters celestial sensations.” 

The urge to flee was just as great as the urge to get her hands on you was. She was thankful for the wide stance she was currently in, because if her legs had been any closer together then she was positive she would have lost her balance and fallen over. 

You were right there in front of her. You’d been right in front of her the entire time, she’d just been so focused on Gene that she hadn’t even seen you in her panic. She stumbled forward, her sneakered foot catching the jack for the amp. She slapped her hands over her ears as a blood curdling screech began blaring over the speakers. 

Ellie could have died. In fact. . . she just might. She dropped her guitar roughly on the ground as she raced over towards the amp, fingers shaking as she turned the knob to the volume.

The booth, once again, was silent. Silent enough to hear a pin drop. Slowly she turned, grimacing when she noticed the looks on everyone’s faces. She’d embarrassed herself and ruined her chance. Even worse was the fact that she’d humiliated herself in front of you. 

She had somehow deluded herself into believing that the two of you were soulmates over the years. She’d compared your birth charts, life numbers- had taken multiple celebrity compatibility tests. All signs pointed to a resounding yes. The two of you were star crossed lovers, cursed to never know one another. She had told herself that if she were ever to bump into you in person that she’d be able to keep her cool. Ellie was certain that she could pretend that she didn’t know who you are- could downplay the significance that you held  

Her ignorance was laughable. She’d been so overcome by your mere presence that she’d stumbled on air while standing completely still. You were standing up straight now, and even from her spot behind the thick glass she could tell how much taller you were than her. You had to be wearing heels or platforms, because according to Google you were- 

“You know how many auditions we’ve listened to today?” You had grappled the mic from the tech and were now hunched over his soundboard, the lights from all of the buttons and knobs casting strange, beautiful shadows over your face. Your eyeliner was dark and smoked out around your eyes, and in that moment Ellie wondered if you were an angel or a demon. “Twelve. Twelve fuckin’ people have walked into that booth today. Every single one of them has been absolute shit. So bad, in fact, that I’ve wanted to blow my fuckin’ brains out in this buildings tiny, piss-stained bathroom.” 

Ellie blanched, lips losing their pink color as the blood drained from her face. She was about to pass out. Her vision was already starting to tunnel. She grabbed onto one of the microphone stands to hold herself up, trying to keep her expression hard and unreadable. People often told her that she had “dead eyes”, and she could only pray that her face wasn’t giving her crushing grief away. It felt like someone had just died; like she had just died. Actually, she would have rather you just go ahead and stab her then tell her she sucked. You were her idol, her dream girl, her everything. 

And you were telling her that you’d rather blow your fucking brains out then listen to her play. How was she supposed to recover from this? She’d heard the saying “don’t meet your heroes” a thousand times, but this? She’d rather you just be a bitch to her. Actually, Ellie would probably like that. This was the worst thing she could have ever heard. Her nose twitched as tears began pooling in her eyes. She blinked a few times, praying that you couldn’t tell in the nearly pitch black room you were standing in. 

“But this?” You turned towards your manager and pointed passionately at Ellie. “This is music.” 

Breath left her lungs in a loud, audible whooshing sound, like a balloon deflating. Her shoulders relaxed, the hand that was white knuckling the mic stand falling limp at her side. No, you didn’t hate her. You liked her. 

You liked her. 

Everyone had their vices. Leon’s had, apparently, been copious amounts of prescription drugs- often consumed simultaneously. You were used to getting what you wanted. You drank whenever you wanted to, fucked just about anyone that peaked your interest and got away with your usual rotten antics and bitchy behavior. You lived the lifestyle that you’d always dreamt of, even when you were a little kid. 

You enjoyed putting on shows. You were flamboyant, loud, and weren’t afraid of expressing yourself. Teachers often described you as a “free thinker” back in your elementary school days. You dressed yourself for school each morning, each outfit louder and more daring than the next. You were an artist, and like most artists you had some inner demons that you fought against. You still fought tooth and nail, even to this day. 

Finally though, after what felt like a thousand years of waiting and biding your time, you had the life you had always yearned for. 

You sold out arenas, appeared on the front page of just about every magazine imaginable, and had celebrities clamoring over themselves to be your “best friend” of the week. Things were good. 

But also a bit empty. 

The friends that you’d made in your youth only used your name for bragging rights. Your parents had stopped showing up to concerts years ago, instead choosing to listen about your successes through their shitty television shows. Life felt a bit hollow.

Exciting. . . just different than you had always been used to. 

“Come play with us.” One of the women whined from her spot on your plush hotel mattress. The bombshell blonde was already stripped down to her underwear, her eyes glazed over from whatever overpriced alcohol she’d already taken from the suite's bar, at your expense no doubt. 

Your manager was used to the up-charges on the company card. He would probably be relieved in the morning when he found out that you didn’t break anything. There was still time for that, of course. It was only one in the morning, which meant you had nine more hours to get fucked up and wreck the cushy room. 

“I’m not feeling up to it right now.” You said simply, already disinterested in the two women you had invited to bed with you tonight. You were holding a beer bottle loosely between two of your fingers, swishing the remainder of the room temperature alcohol absentmindedly.

You weren’t much of an “observer” when it came to sex, more of a very active participant. Still, all you could do was sit back in one of the comfortable lounge chairs, muscles tense after a long show. You weren’t exactly sure why you’d invited the women back to the hotel. They were both attractive and had come onto you at the same time. It was obvious what they had been insinuating, and who were you to deny two beautiful women? The first thing that had popped into your head being “a threesome might make me happy”.

Except now you were bored out of your skull and would much rather be sleeping right now than watch two ditzy girls clumsily fondle each other’s fake breasts. 

“Please? I want you to fuck me so bad-” There was a knock at the door, causing both girls to go silent for a second. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose, exhaustion threatening to swallow you up whole. If it was your manager here to yell at you for “accidentally” breaking an amp at tonight's show you were going to scream. It was too late for that bullshit. Still, you saw this excuse as a blessing. 

“Hear that, ladies? Looks like we’ve gotta pack it up. Thanks for showing me a good time.” You stood up from the seat with a small groan, placing your beer bottle onto the counter clumsily. The glass clattered, almost spilling all over the shag carpet. 

The two girls groaned, obviously frustrated that they hadn’t successfully gotten you into bed with them. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you lately. If this had happened a few months ago then. . . well, you would have fucked them- no questions asked. Were you maturing out of your “wild and crazy” phase? No, you didn’t think so. 

You bent down, scooping up a discarded bra so that you could toss it onto the bed. Fabric rustled behind you as they began to quickly sort themselves out, hoping to beat you to the door. 

“Who is it?” You called out in a sing-song voice, deciding that if your manager was already angry enough to show up in front of your door at one in the morning then you might as well have a little fun with it. 

There was no reply on the other side of the door, causing you to scoff. He was giving you the silent treatment. You reached out for the door handle, only to have your shirt yanked on by one of the women. You could hear the seams ripping against the weight of her, her eyes wide with desperation. 

“Please let me show you a good time. I promise I’m good- I swear.” There was a fear of rejection there, you could tell. 

You felt a bit guilty and were quick to lean in to press a kiss on her cheek. “Baby, you’re gorgeous. I’m sure you would have been wonderful- but I’m tired. That’s all, okay? It’s nothing personal.” 

And with that you opened the door. The air from the hallway was brisk, causing goosebumps to instantly break out on your bare arms and legs. You were expecting the balding, bespectacled Barry to be standing on the other side of the door, all in a huff about “expenses” and “damages to the venue”. Blah, blah, blah. 

Instead it was Ellie. A very broken looking Ellie. 

The girls were quick to straighten out their outfits, their attention now turned towards the guitarist. Groupies like this didn’t care who they slept with, just so long as they were getting it in with someone that was in the band. 

“You’re Emma. . . right? The new guitarist? You were so great tonight. I mean- Leon was always a bit of a poser anyway. You’re killing it.” One of the girls started, moving to stand next to you in the doorway. 

You weren’t sure why, but you felt angry. Genuinely angry. Were you jealous of Ellie? No, because you were sure they would still rather fuck you than her. You’d been their first choice, afterall. Maybe you felt the need to shelter Ellie a bit? Yeah, that had to be it. She was still learning the ropes, and the last thing she needed was to be sexually harassed in a hotel hallway.

“. . . -lie” She was mumbling under her breath, eyes locked on the expensive carpet beneath her ratty old sneakers. 

She had changed out of her stage clothes and put on jeans and a t-shirt. Her hair looked wet too, meaning she’d already taken a shower. She smelled earthy- Alpine, even. 

You leaned against the frame, slamming your hand against the doorway to box the two women in, hoping to keep them away from the newbie. They flinched but both seemingly weren’t off put in their newfound pursuit. 

“You’re the most talented guitarist I’ve ever seen live. I mean. . . your solos were incredible.” You hadn’t managed to successfully remember the girl’s names. Just that they were friends with two guys that had worked security for the venue tonight. People often took advantage of connections like that in order to get close to you and your bandmates. It usually worked too. Tonight was different though. Tonight you had a real stick up your ass. 

Ashley? Amber? Sophie? God, you were bad with names.

“. . . -is Ellie.” Your guitarist mumbled again, slowly moving back down the hall in the direction of her suite. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion over her attitude, and you were quick to stumble out of your room and down the hall after her. 

“Wait! Emma, can we get an autograph!” One of the half naked girls called after the two of you, trying desperately to shrug on her shirt to follow after. 

Ellie turned then, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. You’d. . . You’d never seen her like that before. 

“My name is fucking Ellie! Who is Emma? Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” She dug her hand into the back pocket of her jeans, trying desperately to find her keycard. 

The girls gasped at her outburst, jostled by the look of pure evil on her face. Even you were taken aback, not used to this kind of attitude from her. Still, you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t know why she was acting like this. 

Ellie was what some would call a “mega fan”, though that would be putting it lightly. The word “stalker” would be more appropriate. Your manager knew that before he even messaged her for an audition. He’d checked all of her social media sites and scrubbed the internet for anything he could find on her. One thing was made very clear: 

Ellie was obsessed with you. 

For whatever reason she seemed to be keeping it a secret from Gene and Chris. All she fessed up to them was that she enjoyed your music, which was why she’d auditioned in the first place. She’d conveniently left out the dedicated fan blogs and the status of her cult-like following.

You didn’t mind it. Sure, it was a bit creepy. . . but she was talented and you liked her. She could hold her own against Gene and Chris’ constant asshole behavior, and had been receptive to Barry trying to teach her the ropes of the business. It was obvious that she wanted this, even if her motives weren’t exactly purely for the music. You’d let her be as close to you as she wanted if it meant that she’d continue playing the way that she does. The crowd had loved her, and it was only her second show with the band. 

She was a bit shy, but that would pass eventually. You remember your early debut days vividly. You’d been just like her, maybe even a little worse. 

“Hey, stop for a second.” You reached out to grab her wrist, stopping her from fleeing after her outburst. She turned to glare at you, but her eyes softened as she took in your features. 

You could feel her arm trembling in your grasp, so you gently let go. No matter how many times you touched her or spent time with her, she still seemed to get overly nervous in your presence. It was endearing. 

“Aren’t you a bit busy? Don’t let me ruin your fun-” She was being sarcastic. 

“I was done with them by the time you knocked on the door. They aren’t exactly my type. I’m not sure why I even invited them back in the first place.” If you had to guess, you’d probably done it out of habit. You were used to inviting people back to your room or tour bus. 

Ellie didn’t seem pleased by your answer. If anything it seemed to upset her even more. She bristled, reaching back into her pocket for her keycard. What did she want to hear? That you hadn’t touched them? You groaned, wiping an exhausted hand down your face. 

The elevator dinged behind you, meaning the girls had finally taken the hint and were leaving with their tails tucked between their legs. 

“Are you jealous or something?” You asked once the elevator doors were closed. The last thing you needed were the girls trying to sell information to some shitty gossip magazine. 

She froze, eyes going wide and lips going pale. It was almost like she didn’t think that you knew all about her dirty little secret. A part of you wanted to tease her. Really make her squirm. 

“Why would I be jealous? Those girls weren’t exactly my type either.” She was good at playing things off. Ellie was a good liar. 

But you were good at sniffing out the bullshit. It was one of your many talents. 

“Not of me,” You leaned against the wall next to her door, watching with curious eyes as she began fumbling in her pockets for her key. “Of them. Do you wish I had taken you back to my room or something?” You cooed flirtatiously, flashing her one of your most sinister smiles. 

She coughed, turning around so that she could hide her face from you. This nearly had you groaning out loud in disappointment. Was she blushing? Do her freckles look even brighter when her skin gets all pink and hot? 

Nah, it was dangerous to think like this. Band members were always off limits. It was a recipe for disaster. The last thing you needed was another Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham situation on your hands. Your PR team wouldn’t be able to recover. They’d just barely gotten over the “Leon” incident by the skin of their teeth. 

Your old band member having to be tackled by three cops in a hotel lobby was horrible. It made you look sloppy. And sleeping with the brand new edition to the band was definitely sloppy. 

“You’re acting crazy.” Ellie told you, shoving the keycard into the lock so that she could clammer into her room. 

Pushing the boundaries was sort of your thing. You enjoyed being bad, fuck the consequences. Right about now you wanted to kiss Ellie. What would her reaction be? Was she a good kisser? You wanted to know. No- you needed to know. 

“You’re right. I’m talking nonsense, don’t listen to me,” You called after her into the room. “Sweet dreams.” 

And with that you sauntered back to your own room, practically purring in delight over the fact that it had been that easy to get to Ellie like that. You loved pushing the boundaries. . . and now you had a new toy to play with.

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[ch6sos]

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ teen!nanami headcanons

love my emo king so i decided to make headcanons for him because love himso sosooo MUCH <3 I am obsessed with nanami I am sorry guys for the amount of nanami but he is my beloved and my hyperfixation wooooooooooo

lmk if i should make an emo teen nanami as ur bf headcanon ill gladly do it sweetie pies

He is much quieter as a child and rarely speaks. I believe he will be more reserved as a teenager, not because he is shy, but because he dislikes talking to strangers. He is distant, but not unfriendly.

Haibara is the only person who is allowed in his room, and I do not make the rules. 

Owned an iPod/iPod touch (even though Nanami is the Samsung king) and he would stream his little emo bands.

As a teenager, he appears to be more immature and irrational, displaying difficulty in controlling his emotions sometimes. Despite his calm exterior, he is still a teenage boy so he has regular outbursts here and there.

HATED IT when he tried one of Shoko’s cigarettes; he most likely took one puff and began to cough as though he was going to die.

Sassy king who rolls his eyes and emo hair flips at least 7 times per second, 24/7.

“Nanami, can you do that thing?”

"Do not bother me at this time, Gojo." 

“OH MY GOD YOU DID IT.”

"What did I do."

"The hair flip thing... hahaha you need to cut your bangs."

"I prefer to keep it this way so I can focus on you with one eye and spare the other from seeing more of your face."

Haibara is an extrovert who encourages him to attend events and socialize with others. 

His backpack is tidy. His books are neatly organized, and his papers are not crammed together.

 He was forced to go to karaoke rooms with Shoko, Geto, Gojo, and Haibara, where he would sit and listen to them sing loudly.

"C'mon, Nanami... sing!" 

"..."

“Please?"

"..."

It turns out he was singing all along, albeit softly and quietly, while they sang along loudly to the screen lyrics.

He spaces out a lot when people talk to him because he just wants to go home.

Haibara is subtly affectionate towards him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder like many guys do. He doesn't push him off, but the other guy freezes and maintains some distance.

He once woke up from a nap and found himself wearing eyeliner, black nail polish, and eyeshadow. He immediately ran out to scold Gojo (it wasn't just him) (but he secretly liked it).

"Gojo, what the fuck is this?"

"This is your culture!" 

"Please refrain from touching me while I am sleeping."

“Hey! Who said it was only me?”

“Jesus Christ.”

Probably got a double helix piercing (that eventually healed when he became an adult) (sorry guys).

(Though he still has his earlobe piercings as an adult, he just never really wears earrings anymore. Though you can see the various holes.)

Geto accompanied him to get piercings, and despite feeling nervous at first, he ended up loving the experience and feeling badass.

"It feels good, right?"

"Oh, yeah, I suppose," he mumbled, trying to suppress a broad smile. As he arrived at his dorm, a dorky grin spread across his face. He stood in front of the mirror for several hours, hyping himself up.

Listens to My Chemical Romance, Nirvana, Van Halen, Metallica, Guns N' Roses, AC/DC, Linkin Park, Green Day, Foo Fighters, The Strokes, and Paramore. And more. :)

He would probably like gothic characters from cartoons or shows, like Raven from Teen Titans.

If you quietly make your way into his dorm room while he's listening to music, you'll catch him singing out the lyrics to his beloved emo songs. As the music moves him, he'll start air guitaring and air drumming with fervor. However, if he catches you witnessing his private performance, you'll see a flicker of embarrassment cross his face.

Gojo once tried to dye one of his hair strands purple or blue, but he failed. Instead of turning the strand the desired color, it only lightened his hair slightly, resulting in a lighter shade of blonde that looked like gray hair.

"Gojo, you made me look like a grandfather. I should've done it myself.”

"Looks great on you, Nanami! Fits you too since you kind of act like a grandpa.”

"Oh you, son of a—"

He secretly owns a Tamagotchi named Helena after remembering it is a My Chemical Romance song.

Wept when they split up.

Has secretly attended several concerts, raves, and gatherings, enjoying the kindness and energy of the events.

Has previously used an Ouija board with Gojo, Geto, and Haibara, and the "spirit" liked him.

He goes to the Japanese equivalent of a Hot Topic to get his clothes.

He smells earthy and musky because he is emo, and he probably has a cologne fragrance bottle shaped like a skull.

He rarely posted on MySpace, and when he did, it was only about his music and book reviews.

Likely wore a fake lip piercing, a silver skull necklace, and one of those spikey emo bracelets.

Read Scott Pilgrim comics for a while. 

He was not too dry, so he used emoticons like "-_-" "-.-" "._. ".-." "^_^"

In his spare time, he enjoys reading books about horror and mystery. 

Owned a black Nintendo DS and always handed it to Haibara so he could play with it. Was not upset when Haibara accidentally dropped it in the water, but was sad that he lost his Pokemon progress.

Never had a genuine crush on someone, though when he does he becomes shy and awkward around the person he has a crush on, often finding himself avoiding them like the plague. Whenever he catches sight of them, uncertainty clouds his mind, nerves all over the place.

Despite his efforts to suppress his feelings, they only seem to intensify. This is his first experience with a serious crush, and his initial reaction is to try to shake off the emotions, but he soon realizes that he can't - he's simply head over heels in love.

Whenever he sees them, he does a cute, dorky thing - he goes to his mirror, fixes his bangs, and hypes himself up. He sprayed more cologne than usual, coughed a little, and made sure his skull necklace, helix piercings, and slight eyeshadow looked good. He gives himself several minutes for a pep talk because he still gets so nervous.

He fidgets a lot, constantly finding ways to occupy his hands even when he appears outwardly calm. It's as if he can't help but engage in some form of repetitive movement, whether it's tapping his fingers, twirling a pen, or adjusting his sleeves.

He also stammers a bit sometimes especially when talking to someone he likes.

Talks to Haibara about how he feels most of the time. Out of everyone he trusts Haibara.

He draws on himself when he is bored. He intended to get a tattoo, so he drew on himself to see how it would look.

He has a journal, emphasizing that it's not a diary, where he writes down his emotions. He finds solace in jotting down his innermost feelings as he often struggles to express them verbally.

In his journal, not a diary, he vents a lot. He is frustrated with himself because he is so bad at expressing his emotions. When he wants to, he can't, and he just pushes people away, which he despises.

"Sometimes I wonder why. Why do I have to be like this? I do want to talk to people and express my emotions to them, but I could never. It genuinely scares me, and that is something I want to fix about myself."

Owns several band shirts and wears them to bed. When he is older, they're smaller on him. I wonder why.

When he's out with Haibara and the group, he always wears his headphones and drifts off while listening to music.

“NA-NA-MIIIII!”

*pretends not to hear gojo*

In the modern world, he would be the quiet student who consistently gets top grades, sits at the back of the class, and rarely participates.

When someone shares the same interests as him he tries not to look too excited but ultimately fails.

As a teenager, he adamantly refuses to pursue a romantic relationship but secretly desires one to fulfill his need for affection.

Thus, he spends his time reading romantic novels, gaining insights into how the male protagonists treat their significant others. This newfound knowledge inspires him to learn how to treat his future significant other.

Even though he is mature for his age, he sometimes wishes he had been raised differently. He genuinely feels like he is wasting his youth by not spending more time being a teenager.

Converse + Vans are his specialty and they’re all beat up.

He sees Geto as a fashion inspiration because he is another emo king.

When he's not in uniform, he enjoys wearing oversized, tucked-in T-shirts paired with sleek black pants and a studded belt. His fingers are adorned with multiple rings, and he complements this look with a sleek black watch.

He always spends an extra dollar to buy someone something from the vending machine. Need a soda? He gotcha.

He always seems to be munching on something, whether it's the crunch of Doritos or potato chips. However, he doesn't seem to have as much of a sweet tooth.

an emo king who deserves the world

a/n: i love my goat

[the-lone-writer94]

The Damned and Doomed

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

*Contains spoilers from Supernatural season 10*

Summary: You are a hunter, sent by Sam to help capture Dean. The only problem is, Dean just so happens to be your type and you’re incredibly attracted to him. As a hunter this goes against every instinct, but will you fall for the demon?

Age rating: 18+ (Steamy make out scene, slight *knife play* and violence)

Trigger warnings: Knife play and violence

Word count: 2,383

Note: 1st gif (second row, right) credit goes to mvdeanw on Tumblr

2nd gif (last row, left) credit goes to DanceWithMeJensen on Tumblr

I punched in the number into the dialpad and pressed the cell phone against my ear, awaiting for the call to be picked up. Within seconds, the dialtone stopped.

“Hello.” The voice on the other end said.

“Sam,” I said, and uttered my name. “listen, a buddy of mine said to call you if any of us see your brother, well, I’ve got a location on your brother and that asshole Crowley. They’re hold up in some shithole bar with a karaoke machine in Beulah, North Dakota.”

“You sure it’s them?” Sam asked.

“It matches the photo I saw.” I explained, and then added, “but, I’m sending you a photo just incase, along with the address.” I fiddled with my phone, and forwarded a shot I had taken of them just a few hours ago.

Sam exhaled.

The silence lingered, and I cleared my throat. “Are you still there?”

“Yes, sorry. That’s them alright,” he said between gritted teeth. “I won’t be able to get out there that fast. Look, I know this might be a lot to ask, but would you be able to get Dean away from Crowley, and stall them or anything, just make sure he doesn’t run off.” Sam stuttered.

“I can try. But by the looks of it, it doesn’t seem as if they’re going anywhere. I followed them to the motel they’re staying, and there was a booking under an Eddie Van Halen which they paid for cash for the next two weeks.”

“That’s definitely the kind of alias Dean would use.” Sam explained. “Listen, there’s something you should know… about Dean.” He paused.

“Okay?” I questioned.

Sam exhaled. “Dean is a demon, it’s a long story- but something happened a while back, I don’t know how- but he turned.”

“That’s- woah.” I said, trying to process the information.

“I’m trusting you with this information- please don’t kill him.”

I exhaled. “Sam, I know not everything is as black and white. But, if he’s a demon-” I paused.

“There’s a cure.” He interjected.

“What?”

“I can’t quite get into it now. But promise me you won’t kill him.”

I closed my eyes, contemplating everything for a second before I opened them again. “I won’t.” I gave him my word.

“Thank you. And, you’re able to stall them? I know my brother, and if he finds out you’re another hunter - it’s not going to end well.”

“Don’t you worry about that, I know how to distract men like him. He won’t even see it coming.” I insisted.  

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

As I pushed open the doors and entered the bar, I was immediately hit with the whiff of vinegary aroma of the beer that covered every inch of the place. A muffled sound of chatter filled the room, but was drowned out by the terrible singing that was being blared from the low quality speakers and microphone. Occassionaly, there would be a high pitched sound from the microphone feedback, causing people to flinch.

In the distance, I recognized the man up on the stage. Dean stumbled in his stance, he wore a gray shirt with a black T-shirt underneath, paired with blue jeans and black boots. In one hand he held his half filled beer and with the other the microphone was placed below his lips. As he attempted to sing the song I’m Too Sexy, with half of the lyrics either incorrect or slurred.

People booed at him, but he didn’t seem to care as he continued on.

I watched as Dean was lost in his own little world, singing and dancing to the lyrics. I adjusted my top, pulling it down as I stood straighter in my stance and walked towards him. During the time I had been following Dean, I had managed to be a ghost in the shadows. Blending in amongst the rest of the crowd, however, tonight. I needed to be seen.

I had chosen the tightest clothes I owned, consisting of a white tank top and blue jeans, paired with a black leather jacket and six inch heeled boots.

My gaze met with Dean’s, as I winked at him. I watched as the corner of his mouth turned into a smile. I spun on my heels, knowing full well that his eyes were glued to my body, as I made my way towards the bar, and took a seat on the bar stool.

It didn’t take long, before I heard the music stopping followed by Dean by my side.

“Hello there,” he smirked, as he leaned on the counter.

“Hi there, handsome.” I flirted.

“What’s your name, darling?” He asked.

“Buy me a drink first, and I’ll tell you.” I teased.

Dean gestured at the bartender. “A Jack and Coke.” I said.

“And another beer… actually keep ‘em coming.” Dean said, then added, “and put them on Crowley’s tab.”

Unsure of how much time had passed, however based on the amount of empty beer glasses that had compiled on the counter, I only assumed it had been a while.

 I couldn’t deny that Dean was incredibly attractive, and he was certainly the type of man I would usually go for. Knowing what he was, I knew I had to be careful and shouldn’t fall for him. But, it was certainly a challenge.

I finished the rest of my drink, and turned my attention to Dean, edging forward and closing the gap between us. Gently, I rested my hand on his thigh as it glided up his leg.

“What do you say we get out of here?” I purred.

Dean smirked. “Lead the way sweetheart.”

I removed myself from the barstool and made my way out of the bar towards the motel just nearby. I knew Dean’s eyes were on me, as I continued to lead the way.

Just then, I paused by the door to my room. I turned to face Dean, he towered over me and closed the gap between us. He lowered his head as he pressed his lips onto mine. Despite knowing that I should pull away, I couldn’t help but let the desire posess over me.

My lips parted, and Dean slipped his tongue inside my mouth. My arms wrapped around his neck as I pulled him closer towards me. He must have felt the urgency behind my kiss, as he pressed his body into mine, slamming my back into the door.

Suddenly, we paused and I tried to catch my breath, feeling slightly light-headed. I shook my head, and tried to recollect what had just happened.

My hand reached into the pocket of my jeans as I pulled out the key and unlocked the door towards my motel room.

We crossed the threshold, and Dean closed the door behind him.

There wasn’t much to the boxy little motel room, and having lived my life on the road, the endless motels began to merge in my mind. All I needed were four walls, a bed and a decent shower.

I spun to face Dean, and he immediately stepped towards me. His hands were all over me, and his mouth found mine again. He hoisted me up and my legs wrapped around his body.

My fingers found it’s way knotted in his hair as I tugged onto the ends, he groaned into me, which caused him to deepen the kiss.

Then, Dean carried me over to the bed as he threw me down before climbing on top of me. My hands caressed his broad shoulders, and then his muscular chest, as we continued to make out. His wet tongue deep inside of my mouth.

Dean’s touch stroked the side of my body as he reached up and grabbed my neck, choking me gently. I moaned, as I pulled him closer to me. He lowered his lips onto my neck, just as he did so I felt his stubble tickle my skin.

He left a trail of kisses along my neck. I moaned as my fingers became entwined once again in his hair. He pulled away and our gazes locked.

Then, I rolled us over, as Dean allowed me to so that I was on top of him. It seemed to excite Dean, as he grabbed a fistful of my hair and tugged at it.

My fingers danced across his chest. “Do you want to play?” I teased.

“Always, sweetheart.” He responded.

I reached over towards my duffel bag just by the bed, as I tried to slyly retrieve the handcuffs. However, I could not feel them.

Dean shifted in his position, reaching towards his back pocket. All of a sudden, I recognized the familiar object dangling from his fingertips.

I flinched.

The shiny silver handcuffs, etched with the sigil of the Devil’s Trap hung from Dean’s fingers.

“I guess this is what you’re looking for?” He challenged. “I saw them poking out of your bag just now, so swiped them when you weren’t looking.”

Immediately, I lunged towards Dean, but he was as fast as lighting. He rolled me over and pinned me down. Within seconds, he had managed to cuff me to the bottom of the headboard of the bed.

Angrily, I tugged at my now bound hands, with Dean towering over me. His eyes flashed to the jet black, no longer were the crystal green eyes.

He drew out a knife from the inside of his jacket and placed it under my neck.

My jaw clenched, and my breathing quickened as I tried to stay as still as I could.

“Uh huh,” He warned, and added, “so you know what I am. And, I’m guessing Sammy sent you?”

I swalloed the lump in my throat. “Can I at least sit up, at this angle the cuffs are digging into my skin.”

Dean held his gaze with mine, as his eyes narrowed. As if he were pondering if I was lying. However, he removed the knife away from my neck.

“Your brother cares about you Dean.” I said, as I managed to sit up, and adjusted my hands lower behind my back trying to conceal them away from Dean’s vision. I would always have a bobby pin slipped onto the edge of my sleeve. My only shot was to stall him, as I tried to pick at the lock of the cuffs.

“It’s a shame, because I reallly think you and I had something going.” He said.

I scoffed. “Yeah, a Demon and hunter- I’m sure that’ll end well.”

“I know you want me, I can see it in your eyes.” He teased.

“It was all part of the plan.” I shot back. Not quite sure that I even believed myself.

Dean shifted in his position, his eyes locked with mine. “Are you so sure about that?” He edged forward, as he raised the knife and placed it on my bare chest. I felt the ice coldness of the blade caress my skin.

I felt my heartbeat pound against my chest and my breathing quickened.

“The way you kissed me just now, your hands all over my body,” he whispered, as he moved the blade down to my tits, using it to rub against my hardened nipples. I bit down on my lower lip. He stared down, and then back up at me again, then smirked. His hand grabbed around my neck, “ever since I became a Demon. I can fuck you harder and faster.” He growled, his hot breath on my skin.

“That’s what all men say.”

“Honey, there ain’t no other men like me.” He smirked.

His hand moved down, along with the knife as he draped the flat surface of the blade down on my body and then on my inner thigh.

“Well, I have a rule… and that’s I don’t really like to mix business with pleasure.” I said.

Dean removed his grip from my neck, along with the knife from my thigh. “It’s a shame that now I have to kill you.”

“Yeah, well I’ll like to see you try.” I challenged.

Immediately, my fist swung and connected with his face. Dean was taken aback and stumbled backwards.

“All you men are so easily distracted.” I teased, as I held the handcuffs in my hand.

I lunged towards Dean, but he side stepped. Hurriedly, I parried and he blocked the impact. Knowing that Dean had a height advantage over me, I slammed my heel into his shin.

The blow caused him to stumble, as he knelt down on the ground. I quickly reached for the flask containing Holy Water from my duffel bag, as I tore away the cap and chucked the water at Dean.

Smoke emerged from his face, as he groaned in pain. Now slightly weakened, I pushed him down onto the bed, and quickly placed the handcuffs on him, bounding him to the headboard.

I placed a knife under his neck, as he stared at me in anger.

“I sort of prefer it when I’m on top” I provoked.

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

Once Sam had shoved Dean into the backseat of the Impala, he slammed the door shut and approached me.

I watched from the distance, as Dean’s eyes were glued to me. But the more I studied Dean, I soon realized that it wasn’t anger in his eyes, but melancholy.

Sam wore a dark green coat with a blue plaid shirt underneath, paired with jeans and boots. His right arm was in a sling, I had thought about asking him what had happened, but swallowed the question.

“Thank you again.” Sam said.

“Don’t worry about it.” I said nonchalantly and waved my hand. I cleared my throat. “So… there’s a cure?”

Sam sighed. “Yeah, listen- I know this whole thing sounds skeptical-” He trailed off.

“I think he’s still in there somewhere.” I said, as I watched Sam’s eyes widened. “Earlier, he could have killed me the second I knew about him, but he didn’t. I could sense his hesitation.”

Sam exhaled, as his expression shifted in a moment of relief. “We should get going, thank you once again.”

“Hey, Sam- let me know what happens. Please.”

Sam nodded. “Of course.” He answered, as he turned away and got into the Impala.

I watched as the Impala roared to life, moving into the distance further and further away, until I was standing there alone.

[sadability]

Did you get mysterious messages? ~🎵

MYSTIC MESSENGER MUSIC HEADCANONS :D (RFA + V, Rika, Vanderwood)

Jihyun / V

I think V would love Mitski. Just imagining him painting while my love, mine All mine plays in the background is so sweet. I also think he'd like cavetown, clario, Adrianne Lenker, Liane Flores and Tears For Fears. He often listens to it as background noise when painting or photographing but I also believe he'd practice singing using certain songs (and maybe sing you to sleep HSHSHS)

Jumin

Jumin gives me trouble because I feel like he listens to music for lyrics or lack thereof rather than sound. He listens to blues, jazz, classical and maybe a soft rock love song here and there. If he listens to a song with lyrics, he'll study them. He doesn't really listen to music often but when he does, it's often used as background noise rather than him genuinely indulging.

707 / Saeyoung / Luciel

I think he'd listen to mostly everything but especially synth wave, pop, new wave, rap, noise and glam rock for some reason. I could see him vibing to Depeche Mode one moment and then Fetty Wap the next. He would definitely unironically listen to wannabe by the spice girls LMAO. Also probably really likes tv show intros like iCarly theme or something. AND DISCO!! Seven dancing to bee gees when!?!?

Yoosung

To get rid of the obvious he'd listen to video game osts, pixel (I think that's what the genre is called?) and probably, here me out, pop punk. Or like Falling in Reverse. I think his favourite band would be the All American Rejects but I can also see him liking old demi lavato or Camilla cabello. Both basic white girl music and then randomly pop punk mixed in. As for gaming soundtracks I think he'd really like the undertale ost and probably listens to music through gacha life amv 😔

Zen / Hyun

I FEEL LIKE HIS MUSIC TASTE WAS EXPLICITLY STATED BUT I DONT REMEMBER RAHH okay okay uhm- !! I can totally see him listening to Whitney Houston, Abba, The Cardigans, The Beatles etc for some reason but also he'd feel self conscious that his music taste is too "old" so he would throw in shit like Kendrick Lamar and Future to spice things up and he would never ever admit that his favourite song is Angeleyes by Abba.

Jaehee

Bubblegum Pop, Indie and Doo Wop!!! Mitski, Girl In Red, Kinneret, Princess Chelsea, The Chordettes and The Supremes are frequents of Jaehee's playlist! She only really listens to music on the plane or in the office though. It helps her relax and take her mind off the stress for a bit. I can imagine her learning piano and playing songs like Johnny Angel or Mr Sandman in her free time.

Rika

Rika likes Melanie Martinez and i refuse to argue. She would probably relate really hard to some of her music and overall loves the way it sounds. Can also see her liking Penelope Scott. On the other hand, i see her liking classical or just soft piano music. Color me Blue by Akane would also be a song i can see her liking.

Vanderwood

Metal, Glam Rock, Glam Metal, Dad Rock, 80s rock just. Yeah. You get the point. Metallica, Journey, Mötley Crüe, Guns n Roses, Van Halen, Cinderella, Def Leppord and Dokken !! His favourite bands. Just classic 80s/90s rock for ya. Absolutely goes to their concerts religiously. Probably plays electric guitar as well..he could perform his own concert tbf

[cyberphuck]

Being a tumblr user who listens to a lot of punk/metal/nu-metal, I feel like kind of an outsider when people excitedly post lyrics to their blorbo songs that I've never heard of. But maybe I'm not alone!

Based on my occasional posting of songs or bands I like

(Iron Maiden, Motley Crüe, Heart, NOT Van Halen all my homes hate Van Halen, Green Day, Bush, Radiohead, A7X, MCR I'm a late bloomer, Billie Eilish, VAST and other emo and post-emo artists plus video game music and various one-offs and meme songs)

[crossmydna]

Ao3 Wrapped

Tagged by @sam-loves-seb @energievie and @mybrainismelted <3

1. How many words have you written this year?

51,142, not including Galladrabbles or work on WIPs that haven't been published yet, so probably closer to 80k

2. How many works did you publish this year?

6 fics and 4 pieces of artwork

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

Probably The Blackwing Prophecy because it's my most ambitious work so far!

4. What work of yours has the most hits?

For fics only, 7 Minutes in Heaven with 3,369 hits

5. What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

The Stowaway for sure. I was just expecting to write a silly pirate one-shot and everyone in the comments wanted more lmao

6. Favorite title you used?

Touch/Starved because it reminds me of something that like Hozier or Noah Kahan would use for a title of one of their songs

7. If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?

I normally don't, but in my drawing Somethin' to Keep You Cool I quoted Ice Cream Man by Van Halen (because the original fic did as well hehe)

8. Pairing you wrote the most for this year?

Gallavich <3

9. Favorite pairing you wrote for this year?

Technically Gallavich but the scrubbed characters I re-wrote for The Menagerie, Mal and Rowan, have a special place in my heart <3

10. What work was the quickest to write?

Probably Locking Down the Locksmith

11. What work took you the longest to write?

The Blackwing Prophecy because it involed lots of lore creation and worldbuilding before I even started writing the fic.

Or Gallavich Week 2024 - Nine AUs because I had to fit 4 prompts into each 400 word ficlet and make them coherent.

12. How many WIPs do you have in your docs for next year?

3 so far! The Blackwing Prophecy, that priest!Ian fic that still has eluded me finishing it, and now The Stowaway

13. What’s your longest work of the year?

The Blackwing Prophecy with 20,048 words so far

14. What’s your shortest work of the year?

7 Minutes in Heaven with 2,832 words (not including artwork)

15. What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

Same three as in question #12 (plus maybe a couple more shhh)

16. What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?

Probably Alternate Universe! That's pretty much all I write lmao

17. Your favorite character to write this year?

I really loved exploring touch starved/touch averse Mickey in Touch/Starved.

18. The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?

Probably Ian in The Blackwing Prophecy because he's struggling with keeping secrets and that's something he's not very good at (and neither am I)

19. What’s one pairing you want to explore next year?

Always more Gallavich <3

20. Which work of yours have you reread the most?

The Blackwing Prophecy because I need to remember what happened lmao

21. How many kudos in total did you get this year?

2,307 🥰

22. Which work has the most comments?

7 Minutes in Heaven with 38 comment threads

23. Did you do any collaborative works this year?

Nope!

24. Did you write any gifts this year?

I wrote Touch/Starved for @michellemisfit as well as drew art for various people!

25. Did you receive any gifts this year?

Yes! @mybrainismelted wrote Nuts for me because I got a flat tire and wanted someone to make a Gallavich version of the shitshow that it was lmao. And also I commissioned Old Habits and New Revelations from @whatthebodygraspsnot!

26. What’s your most common category?

M/M always

27. What do you listen to while writing?

Honestly either Legend of Zelda speedruns or lawn care videos because I'm a psycho

28. Favorite work you wrote this year?

Probably The Stowaway because I can't stop thinking about it

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

How does he describe feeling like you’re going to explode and implode simultaneously? How does he tell her that he’s been thinking about Ian’s hand on the back of his neck nonstop and aching to feel it again with every fiber of his being? But that the thought of it is so overwhelming that he can’t actually bear it? — from Touch/Starved

Or, the scene in chapter 4 of The Blackwing Prophecy where Ian is deciding to heal Mickey or not.

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

Starting 2 new major WIPs and still not finishing the one I've been trying to write for like 2 years now lmao

Tagging @gallawitchxx @deedala @whatthebodygraspsnot @thisdivorce if you want to play!