all vinyl set

Photo Credit: Joris Voorn at @awakenings for his debut in 2003, playing an all-vinyl set.


Joris Voorn’s new weekly radio show ‘Spectrum Radio’ is available now on Mixcloud (link in bio). #JorisVoorn #Vinyl #Festival #Techno #House #Electronica #DJ #DJlife #Awakenings #Throwback #Mixcloud #Radio

anonymous asked:

Okay, so this is based off that photoset you reblogged: Dean finds a stash of weed from when the Men of Letters were around and decides to light up, not knowing that it was enchanted by the Men of Letters to keep them stoned for days on end.

I totally do not get credit for this! This was all Cait! I literally wrote 2 words of this!! Enjoy!

Dean had been busy shuffling through piles of paperwork and taking inventory of the rooms in the bunker. It had been only a few weeks since they had adopted the safe house as their own and the clean freak in Dean was having a hissy fit.

Boxes everywhere. Video catalogues: super 8 film, VHS, and tape decks lay strewn in piles.  Some without labels. It was maddening. Dean hadn’t even gotten started on the notes. He’d made a pile for Sam, who volunteered to scan them all into something called an optical character…whatever.

As he brushed off another stack of folders a cloud of dust wafted into the air and he sneezed violently. The force of the spazm jarred the folders and Dean watched with a raised eyebrow as a little plastic bag dropped to the floor between his feet.

“Well, well, well….” He bent at the waist and scooped up the bag with a surprised smile, speaking to no one in particular. “I took the Men of Letters to be a bit more buttoned up, I didn’t think you boys had it in you. I’m actually kind of proud.” Dean tucked the baggie into the back pocket of his jeans and began packing up the remainder of the room.

He deserved a break.

Walking down the halls of the bunker Dean felt compelled to sneak past his little brother’s room, then corrected his thinking. He could invite Sammy to join him, but somehow he didn’t see that conversation panning out in anything but disapproval.

Dean slowly clicked the lock of his own bedroom door behind him and walked over to his desk where he kept a stash of rolling papers. It had been a while, and it would be an ugly joint, but hell they all smoked the same. After a few tries Dean had a bit of a sloppy, albeit functional cigarette.

Smirking to himself, he kicked off his boots and leaned back on the headboard while he flicked his zippo, took a long hit, and coughed his brains out; wracking, chest searing coughs. In between ragged gasps he chuckled, rubbing his chest, “Jesus, boys. You didn’t skimp, huh?”

Dean inhaled more carefully this time and held the smoke in his lungs, artfully blowing smoke rings as he giggled. Who taught him that? He couldn’t even remember. Not Dad - no way. John Winchester the Marine had never once caught Dean smoking for fear of the repercussions.

As he rested his head against the headboard he let his eyes wander around his bedroom. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt at home the way he did now. His own bed, his vinyls all set up and organized -  this was relaxing.

That was, until Dean heard the urgent rapping on the door and he choked in surprize, releasing another fit of coughs.

“Who is it?” Dean called out, trying desperately to fan the smoke out of the room, pinching the end of the joint until it extinguished.

“Who the hell else could it be? Open up you idiot!” Sam barked behind the thick wood of the door. Dean realised his mistake and couldn’t hold back the giggles. This was some good schwag.

Dean opened the door just a crack to see his brother’s face wrinkled in concern, “You okay, man?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean paused, trying his best to nonchalantly roll the cuffs of his sleeves and finding coordination was not his strong suit. “I’m good. Just, uh, tired.”

“Dude.” The bridge of Sam’s nose wrinkled, “Is that-” Sam reached in and grabbed the collar of Dean’s flannel and pulled him out of the bedroom a few inches, “It is! Are you high?” Sam’s voice pitched up in irritation.

Dean took a deep breath, looked at his toes, and giggled as he wiggled his feet inside his socks. “Very.” Staring back up into his brother’s scowl he couldn’t help himself, “When was the last time you did, Sammy?”

“Like, once.” He stammered and looked away, “Ages ago.”

“Well, shit. I was going to ask if this was normal but I’m feeling very….off.”

“Off? What does off mean?”

“You know, just not exactly…” Dean trailed off trying to remember the word, but he suddenly realised just how hungry he had become.

“Hello? Dean?” Sam waved his hand in front of his brother’s glassy eyes. When he didn’t respond Sam took his older brother by the shoulders and shook him back to awareness, “Where the hell did you get this stuff?”

Dean’s eyelids drooped heavily as he smiled at his brother. “I’m starving. Whaddaya say we go grab some grub, huh?” Sam watched carefully as his brother passed him in the hall, completely oblivious to his inquiries, and into the bunker’s garage.

Sam watched Dean miss the lock on the door of the Impala three times before he walked over and confiscated his brother’s keys, “That’s it party monster. Gimme those.” Dean snorted and flopped uselessly against the car.

“Sammy can we get a happy meal? I really, really just want…a happy meal.” Dean’s eyebrow arched and he found himself deep in thought, “I think I want nuggets. Do they still come with a toy? I wonder what I’ll get?”

Sam stared in a mix of amusement and worry before sliding into the driver’s seat, watching as Dean had to hold on to the outside of the Impala to make his way steadily around the car.  As he flopped into the seat, Dean immediately reached over and began playing with the knobs on the stereo.

“Dude, whoever sold you that definitely sprayed it with something. You’re off your ass.”

“Isn’t it great?” Dean exclaimed, suddenly pointing out the windshield in the direction of the highway. “Sammy! Nuggets!”


As Sam drove back to the bunker he sipped his soda gingerly, side eying his brother who was busy housing his happy meal and fries. Dean suddenly stopped and looked over at Sam, a look of extreme disappointment crossing his face.

“Sammy…they forgot the honey mustard!”

Sam couldn’t contain his irritation any longer, “We were at the drive through window for THIRTY MINUTES. Thirty minutes and your little pothead brain couldn’t decide between barbecue and ketchup and you just now remembered that honey mustard exists?”

Dean looked dejectedly down at his food and offered a fry to Sam, “Peace offering?”

Sam snagged a small bag of fries out of the box in Dean’s lap as his older brother looked on in horror, “Apology accepted.”

“Yeah, but-” Dean began when a stern look from his younger brother silenced him instantly.


“I can’t believe you ate them all; all twenty nuggets in a ten minute drive. You’re nasty.”

“At least I eat real food. C’mon Sam, what the hell is kale?”

Sam was amazed his brother was still completely stoned, in fact it almost seemed to be getting worse. “All right, c’mon Dean lets see the pot.”

Dean held his hands up in mock surrender and turned to go fetch the remaining weed from his bedroom. Upon handing the bag to Sam, his younger brother took one quick look over the label on the outside and bent over in a fit of hysterics.

“What? What’s so funny?” The older Winchester was completely dumbfounded.

“You’re cursed!” When Sam could finally catch his breath he spoke up, “You’re going to be absolutely, belligerently high for at least a week.” Sam couldn’t breathe he was laughing so hard.

“Cursed ganja? Are you serious?” Dean exclaimed, “Am I gonna die?”

Sam laughed even harder, “Nope. You’re just going to be more stupid than usual for the next seven days.”

It took Dean a moment to realise he had been insulted, “Jerk.”

“Bitch.” Sam countered.

@kazchester-fanfiction @holywaterbucketchallenge @emmy-winchester @bookshido @winchester-writes @i-really-love-fanfiction @spnfangirl1965 @blacktithe7 @balthazars-muse 

Sorry for the long post!