image projector


“Alright, everyone - on three. One, two–”

“Not it!” Parker interrupted, holding up her hand.

“I hadn’t said three yet,” Eliot snarled.

“When has playing by the rules ever gotten any of us anywhere?” she countered with a smirk.

“Well, there was that one time,” said Hardison, ticking off a mystery point on one finger, “oh, and that other,” two fingers, “and that one - oh yeah, we played by the rules so good that time, and–”



Not helping,” said Eliot through gritted teeth, heaving a sigh. “Look, Parker, we’ve been over this. Hardison and I can’t play the couple, it’ll draw too much attention.”

“Why? Gay marriage is really common now!”

“Hey, not gay!” Hardison protested.

“Great, and now he’s not gay.” Eliot rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you two get hitched, then, ‘not gay’ and ‘not it’ are made for each other.”

“I am not gay,” Hardison repeated emphatically. Parker rose from her chair, slipped behind him, and pantomimed his movements and speech pattern. “I am pansexual and queer and when you disrespect my identity you disrespect me and dammit where did Parker go, she’s standing behind me, isn’t she? Yeah - of course she is. Look, it’s easy - I need to handle the security system, so you two go get hitched, and let me work. Ya’ll hurt a guys feelings, arguing about which of you want to be married to me less, I get it, okay? Just a…” He trailed off, mumbling, poking at his phone.

“Fine,” said Eliot, throwing up his hands. “Parker, let’s go check the jewelry stash for matching rings that fit. We’ve wasted enough time on this argument.”

“Wait, which of you am I married to?” asked Parker.

“Neither!” Hardison and Eliot said simultaneously. 

Parker pouted until they pulled out the casket where the jewelry was kept. Nothing cheered her up like more gold and gems and platinum and jade than she could hold in her cupped hands. Seeing her smile, Eliot’s sour mood eased. They were both idiots, so much younger and less experienced than he, so determined that this threesome when work when it had been the two of them originally and would be the two of them long after Eliot finally did something stupid enough to get himself killed. But until then, he could indulge them, he supposed. 

The hardest part was to get Parker to stop picking out pretties and stashing them in her pockets.

Hours later, Eliot had to amend that thought. The hardest part hadn’t been getting a ring on his finger. The hardest part hadn’t been trying to play two different men simultaneously, one married to Parker, the other married to Hardison. The hardest part hadn’t been when he got caught mid-change and the job went to hell. The hardest part hadn’t even been taking a few hits so Parker could make a clean escape.

No, this was definitely the hardest part.

“Are you insane?” said Eliot.

“Hey, hey, we do not use the ‘i’ word–”

“That really hurt my feelings, Eliot.”

“–we know it hurts Parker’s feelings, come on, baby, Eliot didn’t mean it, he’s just surprised.”

“I meant you, Hardison! If you guys want to make this real by all means, go for it! No one is holding you back!” Can we please just stop talking about this? I want it too much for any of this to be okay with me.

“No! Nate and Sophie, they taught me to be honest about my feelings, and this is me, being honest! I’m marrying both of you.”

“You can’t do that, Parker!”

“Why not?” she asked with actual confusion. Eliot raked a frustrated hand down his face. 

“Hardison, for the love of…talk sense in to her!” he said.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll do that, right after I…” Hardison stopped typing with a flourish. “Alright, boys and girls…uh…boy and girl, we are good to go.”

“Thank friggen God, I can’t wait to put this whole shitshow of a job behind us and–”

Hardison flicked over his phone and an image appeared on their projector - an engagement announcement for Parker, obviously in her Alice White alias, to one of Hardison in that damned Ice Man bullshit outfit he’d pulled. 


Eliot had never been interrupted by a silent cocky grin before, but there was no answering that look on Hardison’s face. Hardison flicked over his phone again and another announcement turned up - Parker and Eliot, as themselves - and another flick interrupted Eliot’s next strangled attempt at an interjection, Hardison and IT guy Eliot.

That had been a good look for him…the glasses…Parker loved him in the glasses. With a sigh, Eliot deflated.

“Really?” he asked. Though his tone was resigned, there was a warm glow in his chest. He couldn’t deny that he wanted this. But it was a terrible idea.

“Really,” said Hardison and Parker, staring at him hard. 

“Unless you’re going to keep being a little bitch about it,” Hardison added.

“Hey, you love it when I’m a little bitch,” Eliot said pointedly.

“Yep, we both do,” said Parker with a gentle smile. Eliot sighed again. God, no matter how hard he tried to do the right thing - the wrong thing? whatever - these two always twisted him around so damn easy and the worst part was…

“Fine,” he conceded.

“Yes!” Parker gave an adorable jump, punching a fist in the air, and Hardison smirked like his damn mouth had gotten stuck like that.

…the worst part was he absolutely loved them for this kind of bullshit.

Guess I’m getting married.


Encore: The Final Act, The Last Kiss Jungkook x Reader

Note: I might turn this into a longer story and change the ending, tell me if you would like this. This story will not be altered, it will simply be seen as a different ending.

WARNING: This created around a shooting. It contains a hostage situation, being held at gunpoint and being shot to death. This story also contains swearing/profanities. If ANY of this bothers you, I highly advise you to skip over this story.

Type: Short story/drabble, thriller/horror

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (Third Person)

She was nervous, her heart fluttering at the sound of the curtains opening, revealing her and her group to thousands upon thousands of people, opinionated people and judgmental people. But, also Jungkook. Her smile widened immediately, one of pure trembling nerves.

His eyes glued to her, a twitch of a lingering smirk touched upon his lips. He felt a flare of pride swell in his heart, seeing his girlfriend up on stage - in front of thousands. He straightened up in his seat, Jimin nudging his shoulder when they witnessed that one familiar smile, the smile she had when she first met him.

The song started, the lights dimmed to almost black. Her friend, Nicole appeared on stage, the rest of the group vanishing. Her body moved with the beat, as if her muscles were fluent in the language of dance. She swayed to the side, doing Hoseok’s flip as the beat to Boy Meets Evil blasted across the stage.

And then (Y/N) appeared, the lights on her flaring up and the lights on Nicole dimming. She stood proudly, the silk blindfold hiding her nervous eyes. She moved melodically with the music, Jimin’s voice booming in her ears as her body contorted and rolled. As the lights for Nicole switched on, both of them dancing together in serene harmony, a certain feeling of uneasiness began eating away at her.

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anonymous asked:

Thank you for being pro-HR. (Especially thank you for being pro-HR while not being anti-Iris. I didn't want her to die, I didn't want him to die in her place, I didn't want *anyone* to die, heroically or not.)

HR is joy. HR is love. 

There’s a real difference between “I wish HR had lived” and “I wish Iris had died.” I’m firmly in the “I wanted HR to live” camp, and that definitely does not mean that Iris had to die. If HR had been grievously injured but survived (maybe the image projector meant Savitar stabbed him in a slightly less lethal place, idk), it would have changed absolutely nothing about the rest of the plot. The show needs to move past obligatory finale deaths.

anonymous asked:


he uses some sort of expensive ass conditioner [insert image of a projector] like at first he does it to spend money on useless shit but then hes like…..ooh hair Softe……and now he uses it always bc he loves having such nice soft hair

            Too much going on lately.

   Town full of new people, several of her Guzmas lacking stability, evil madman on the loose, overflowing with baked goods. Too much.

               Something had to give.

      Several king-sized sheets had been hung from the wall in one of the largest rooms of Shady House–black over the windows to block out what little light might stream from outside, and white to host the massive image from the projector that Plumeria had managed to get her hands on and set up in that very same room–with a little help from one or two of the more technologically inclined grunts, being that her expertise in the matter began and ended with vinyl record players.

   Speaking of which, she had set one up in the very same room, connected it to an amplifier which looked about as old as it was, and stacked several milk crates full of records close at hand. At the moment she was summoning up some Zepplin–the sound was by no means crystal clear, but the machine was well-cared for and gave the sound a depth which some might well find as compelling as the Skull admin obviously did.

      Behind her were sofas that had been pulled in a semi-circle around the screen, a table laden down with ample baked goods–principally doughnuts–, and a few different consoles with plenty of multi-player games.

   It wasn’t an official party–just a handful of Po Town’s finest residents (and temporary citizens, should they so choose)–but Plumeria was in a damn good mood.

            If they wanted, all were welcome.

Shingeki no Sex Ed
  • Eren: He'd be a little embarrassed about it, even if it's the male matters that are being talked about. He would be really uncomfortable when the female matters are being discussed because he'd feel like it's none of his business and that it counts as perving on women. It would be the subject that he would forget about and the last one he'd study for.
  • Armin: Even if he'd be a little awkward and flustered about it, he'd try his best to take it seriously. It would be pretty interesting for him to know about the male system, as well as the female system. Albeit being flustered during sex ed, he'd still be interested and do a little more research whenever he can.
  • Reiner: He would be really immature when it comes to sex ed class. The mere thought of the names of a man and woman's private parts, contraceptives, etc. would have him busting into fits of giggles and chuckles, more so if he sees an image of it. He would laugh at anything and everything, even if it annoys the people and even if there's nothing funny about it.
  • Bertholdt: Anything and everything about that class would send him into fits of profuse sweating and constant throat clearing. In his view, matters like that aren't to be discussed in a public setting because it's just not appropriate. He would be more comfortable reading textbooks on it on his own than sitting in a class with other people whilst a huge projector shows images he'd be uncomfortable with.
  • Jean: He would try to be mature about it and pay attention, and even scold the other people who laugh about it. However, he would give in and end up laughing and making snide comments without any inhibitions. Along with that, he'd also try to turn everything into a sexual innuendo even if it'll make the others uncomfortable.
  • Marco: It would be something that he wouldn't understand at once, so he would take it seriously and pay attention to every single detail. He might blush a little and look away when matters that females experience are discussed, but his curiosity and will to know about it will get him so he'd shake himself out of it and focus. There would also be some questions that he'd have in mind, but he wouldn't have the confidence to ask them.
  • Connie: Just thinking about having to discuss stuff like that would make him feel a little awkward, so he would joke around about it just to hide it. Moreover, he would be particularly interested in the female system... just because it's interesting for him. He would get a little tired of joking around and being a boy, so he would just resort to sleeping it off.
  • Levi: He would probably have sufficient knowledge about it, so he'd think of it as nothing. He would have absolutely no intention of making at joke out of it since he has most likely done that in the past anyway. He knows much about it anyway, so he'd probably just sleep and use his stock knowledge whenever he's asked questions.
  • Erwin: He'd feel that it's something he's supposed to know already, so he'd be acting like a know-it-all most of the time. He would be a little agitated whenever he's proven wrong because of his pride, but he would get over it. However, the different kind of thought that'll invade his mind can't be avoided... and it might show.
  • Mikasa: It would be a little shocking for her that things like those are discussed in a rather public setting, but she'd just suck it in and listen. She would be really interested in learning more about what goes on in the body in that kind of way, especially when it comes to the opposite sex. She would have a lot of questions in mind, but she would just keep it to herself.
  • Annie: She would be interested in it, but the people making immature comments around her would get her annoyed and ruin the whole thing for her. She would prefer doing a self-study on it rather than having to listen to the teacher ramble on and on about it. She would be the type who'd just plug in her earphones and stay in the corner the whole time.
  • Sasha: I can imagine her eating during this class, and her appetite would decrease by the minute. It would be a little embarrassing for her to listen to discussions about what's down there, what you do with it, and everything else. She would be fanning her face whenever she'd hear something that's not appropriate according to her book, or just cover her face to mask the red on her cheeks.
  • Christa: It may be her first time to encounter such kind of discussion, so she'd be very shocked and would be a little sensitive to the matter. Still, she would try to just compose herself and endure everything. However, there would be moments where she couldn't hold it in and she'd just give out soft sounds of disgust or shock.
  • Ymir: She's concentrate on it but she would still have a smirk on her face that would tell a little something about what she's thinking of. She would try to focus on the scientific side on it, but she would slowly get distracted and start focusing on something else.
  • Hanji: Her focus would be 100% on the lesson, no matter how invasive or embarrassing it may be. There are times wherein she wouldn't fully understand the topic, but she'd try her dying best to do so and won't give up until she gets it. She'd also might squeeze in a giggle or two whenever she'd think of it at something else.
  • Petra: She would have some exposure on that topic, but that wouldn't stop her from learning a little more to add to what she knows. Even if it sounds weird, she wouldn't be afraid to ask questions as it is a natural part of life after all. She'd also be into researching more about it if she's interested enough in it.

Pairing: AH OT6 (Raychael and Micheoff centric)
Word Count: 20438
Summary: Wing!fic. Eighteen year old Michael manages to get himself into a situation where he grows wings. It’s not pretty, but at least he has company.

Notes: SO MUCH RAYCHAEL. Anyway, yeah, so I went to a seminar about rabies and was extremely inspired to write a disease fic. It ended up with a high school setting and teacher!Geoff with student!Michael and student!Ray. Oh, and the boys having wings. Oops.


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Finding Home

Originally posted by page32

Originally posted by poorbeautifuldean

Originally posted by socialpsychopathblr

Part Eight of Dream girl imagine.  Part Two: Dreams and Reality  Part Three: Deja vu    Part Four: Leave a mark    Part Five: The tragic Hero Part Six: Voices in the dark   Part Seven: A change of scenery

Dean x reader

word count: 3831

Lyrics in bold and italics are The Fray’s Look after you

Your name: submit What is this?

The diner was finally hitting that sweet lull now that the lunch crowd had dissipated. The grill was sizzling while Horace cooked the last order and music softly played from a jukebox nearby. You turned from the counter with two mugs and a coffee carafe for table two. Before heading over, you paused to watch Sam and Serena talking.

Sam was animated, telling a story you had a feeling you had heard from Dean before. Serena leaned forward, enthralled in the tale with her brow pulled together but her lips quirked up just a bit at the corners. The way she looked at him flooded you with a calm warmth from head to toe. Sam smacked the table and whispered. Serena had jumped slightly but then swatted him, a smile appearing as she rolled her eyes.

You walked over with a soft chuckle at Serena’s boisterous laugh. It was unrestrained and genuine, something you hadn’t heard from her with a guy since you were both in high school.

“Hey, Sam. Nice to see you again.” You grinned as you placed the mugs down. Sam turned toward you, his eyes still alight but he went shy the moment he met your gaze.

“You really don’t have to do that. I could get it.” Sam, ever the gentleman, took the carafe from your hand and poured his cup. He was looking into the mug when he said, “you’ve already done too much.”

“What do you mean?” Serena’s back went stiff and he shuttered for a second before he put the carafe down and looked up at you with a thin smile. With a glance, you saw Serena staring at you too.

Something sparked and flashed across his face as if an idea just came to him. “You’re the reason we met.”

Serena grinned but something about it seemed off as she grabbed the carafe. “Just because I’m on break doesn’t mean I can’t get our food. You do not have to wait on us.”

You smiled but it felt flat, “okay.” You were missing something but you had no idea what it could be.

“Dean should be by soon, right?” Serena looked at Sam and he nodded.

“Yeah, he should be on lunch from the garage. He said he’d be over.”

You quickly nodded, “oh yeah.” But you couldn’t remember talking to him. “I’ll give you guys some privacy.”

“You don’t have to leave.” Serena touched your hand, “I just don’t want you waiting on me.”

You rolled your eyes, “no thanks. Three’s a crowd and all.” You turned and walked back to the counter with a quick look around. No one else was there, so you took a seat at the counter and tried to remember the last time you talked with Dean. It was the only thing that could get your mind off the eyes you knew were still on your back and whatever they could be thinking.

You spread your fingers out on the counter feeling its solid construction and stared at the watery brown circle not that far from your fingertips. Had you seen Dean that morning? Your thoughts felt as muddled as the circle and the whispering behind you didn’t help a thing. Without the sizzle of the grill and the normal hum of chatter, the place just felt flat, but that was easily explainable. There were always slow times that stretched minutes into forever and down times that made the place feel like a tomb. The word rolled over in your mind feeling heavy and a bit too real. An icy breeze blew across your neck. It shouldn’t be that quiet in here.

“And where’s that looker of yours today?”

Miranda’s deep rasp jolted you out of your head. Ripping your gaze off the brown circular stain on the counter, you looked up but didn’t make it more than a few inches before you were struck by another mark. A dark red blooming flower in the middle of her white shirt, more inkblot than the usual design and you couldn’t take your eyes off it. A stiff cold coiled around your shoulders then swam through your veins. You heard your name in the haze and wrenched your eyes up to hers. She didn’t seem to notice your unease. “What?” You croaked.

“Don’t play coy, I thought your boy was coming in for lunch today?” She grinned and for a second you could’ve sworn you saw matching splotches on her teeth.

You blinked and shook your head. “Oh, um, he’s coming. Probably just got held up.” You flashed the best smile you could muster and played with your hair looking anywhere but at her.

The bell chimed and you jerked toward the door but no one was there. You looked over your shoulder realizing it was the bell by the grill. Horace turned and set two plates down on the counter. “Sera, order up!”

You stared at him, expecting the terrible flirting comments to fly but you were distracted by the wide maroon tie wrapped around the middle of his neck and draping down his front. It was odd and not just because Horace never dressed up but the tie itself was weird. It fell down his chest then curved to the left over his stomach and it wasn’t the same width the whole way down. 

His head turned your way and his eyes knocked the air from your lungs. There was a film over them changing the color of his irises and giving off the distinctly ghastly look of a cadaver. “See something you like, sweet cheeks?” He wiggled his brows and smiled. The yellowing teeth were spotted with more than just rotting enamel and coffee stains.

You jerked away as tingling needles skittered up your arms before carving into your chest. You choked down the bile that rose and looked for Serena, needing to know that she was still with you yet terrified to find in what way.

She was still there, staring straight at you with a strange look on her face. “Are you okay, Ser?” It came out choked and you grasped your throat.

Serena’s eyes were not covered by any film but brimming with tears. When she shook her head, one broke free. You wondered if she saw the same thing you did and felt that icy breeze on the back of your neck. A thought shot through you that maybe she saw something behind you closing in with each second that you stared her way but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around, or even move for that matter. It was a prickling pain at the back of your neck that finally forced you to spin around and face whatever it could be, but nothing was there. Absolutely nothing.

When you looked back, Serena was smiling again. “Jackass.” The sound of her voice was like a punch in the gut. It was all wrong. The word wasn’t a casual toss of an old nickname, it was thick and mournful.

“Dick.” You whispered but even that sounded wrong, or really, barely sounded at all.

The scene blipped, like a broken image or a projector skipping to the next slide. Serena was no longer facing you. She was looking at Sam and they were both laughing like nothing happened.

You were still frozen and glanced from the corner of your eye to the counter. Miranda stood behind it, staring at you as if waiting for an answer and the red blooming stain on her shirt was gone. You dropped your gaze to the floor and took a shaky breath. “It’s just a bad dream.” You whispered.

But then another voice answered with a quiet yet harsh rebuttal. Then what does that make you?


The ocean breeze was helping to rid you of the latest nightmare. You were debating on whether to tell Dean but one thought of the deepening shadows in his own eyes decided for you. The nightmares had been coming on more often and hitting you at random times but it was easier to pretend that nothing was wrong than to go digging where you didn’t belong.

A small boombox you found in the cottage sat behind you, a soothing melody blending with the soft, tumbling waves below. The full moon was high and painted a long glittering line over the rolling sea until the crashing waves broke it up below you. You imagined if you swam out and reached the thickest part of the line, you could pick yourself up and walk across it like a road. The idea of it sparked something and pulled like a rope around your middle. You just had to get past the messy part and you could follow that road home. The thought jolted you out of the calm you had found and your insides thrashed like the water was beginning to below.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You looked up and searched for wounds. “Hi.” Relief swept through you to find him whole with an easy smile. The shadows still below his eyes.

He was staring at the boom box and dropping down to get a closer look. “Haven’t seen one of these in… a decade, at least.”

“It was in the cottage.” He stiffened but gave nothing else away as he glanced up at you. He pushed a button on the top of the box and another song began.

“Interesting.” He peered at you with a grin.

“Don’t you say a word about my music, Dean Winchester.” You couldn’t stifle how good it felt to play around with him.

“The Fray?” He chuckled as he grasped your hand in his.

“Yes, I happen to like some music from this decade.” You stood up, following the gentle pull of his hand. He wrapped his arm around your waist, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back as he pulled you against him. He lifted your hand in his and waited for you to place your free hand. You narrowed your eyes, “what are you up to?”

“I figured a song like this, you wanted a dance in the moonlight.” It was only a gentle sway at first until he started to show off some partner dancing skills you didn’t know he possessed. You danced around the hilltop without a single thought of the nightmares. He spun you around a few times eliciting giggles from you until the third chorus when he pulled you back against him and slowed to a gentle sway.

“Oh, oh. Oh, oh. Be my baby. I’ll look after you.”

Your forehead pressed against his chest, breathing him in but you felt a sense of melancholy that wasn’t from the music. There was a thick sadness building in your chest but you knew it wasn’t your own.

“It’s always have and never hold, but you’ve begun to feel like home. Yeah.”

Dean’s lips pressed against your ear, “how did I ever get so lucky?” He choked on the last word.

You tried to pull back to look at him but he tightened his arms holding you against him. You searched for an answer to his question that meant more than the words he carefully chose, but only found the other time he asked you a similar question. “Everyone deserves good dreams,” you said closing your eyes.

You swayed, clutching each other until the song faded and the only sound left was the waves. He sighed, “I want to stay with you but you deserve to know everything. You need to know everything.”

He let you pull back this time and what you found only heightened the searing pull in your chest. You searched his face for his meaning but a feeling all your own turned your stomach and you weren’t sure you wanted to know.

“I will stay here with you if you don’t want to go back. I can’t live out there when you’re in here. I can’t go on hunts because there’s always a chance I won’t make it home and that’s just… I won’t leave you here alone.”

A battle had broken out inside you. His emotions blending and clashing with yours. Guilt and worry, sadness and confusion, desperation and longing, love and fear.

“You can’t make a decision with me without knowing everything and I know it’s difficult. You’re afraid and I understand but I have to lay it all out. Do you think you could listen and not push me away?”

Your throat closed up and your heart was knocking so hard against your ribcage you couldn’t breathe, but you nodded even though you were terrified to hear what he had to say.

He forced a smile and held your face gently in his hands. Then he poured everything out so quickly, you had the distinct impression it was the only way he thought he could get through it. “This is a dream, everything here… You’ve created this. We met in the real world but you were hurt saving my brother. You never woke up and I’ve been by your side for months waiting for you to wake up. I’ve been coming here to see you but… I’m losing it out there. I know it’s not fair to push this on you but I have to. I can’t have both. It’s either here or there and I’ll go with whatever you want. We need to make up our minds and decide. I’ll stay here with you or we can go back.”

His eyes were glued to yours, waiting. Everything continued to war inside you, pushing and pulling until your lungs were screaming for air. You were dragging in breaths but each one was ragged and too short. His lips moved and his brow furrowed but you didn’t hear a word over the roar in your ears. You closed your eyes to shut it all out, seeking an ounce of peace to think.

Images swirled around you, each scene focused into one clear moment as it passed directly in front of your eyes. Dean standing in a meadow, working with Serena at the diner, Sam and Serena having lunch together, and Dean making love to you on the hilltop. In all those visions, they were happy and you were happy. But then on the second and third flash by, the cracks appeared. The blurred edges and faces, the fuzzy idea of a place around you.

A tremor rattled your bones and the images spun past your field of vision again. The picture show froze on the hilltop, Dean holding himself over you with that grin that coiled heat in your lower abdomen. You blinked and you were beneath him, the sky behind him a perfect blue dotted with big, blurry clouds. A sudden bloodcurdling scream shattered the image and large shards of the sky began to plummet towards you. You threw your arms around Dean’s head, pulling him down while covering your face in his chest and shouting a warning to him, but then you were no longer laying down. Dean’s weight was gone and so was his warmth.

Your eyes snapped open and you were back in the forest, running. You were always running here. Then that feeling popped up, something you knew deep down was the only truth in the darkness. All you needed to find was the road and the road was through that brush. The road would take you home.

This time, you didn’t pause or stumble just before the final line of bushes that blocked you from the road and the pain on the other side. The pain on the other side. It reverberated through you as you jumped over the last scrubby bush and slid to a stop on the long dirt road.

“Sam.” You whispered as you spotted the tall figure in the distance standing over the prone soldier. You screamed as you ran toward him, “don’t throw your weapon! Don’t turn your back!”  But you weren’t getting any closer, you were stuck on the edge of the tree line. You saw yourself running toward the two men and watched the scene play out the way you were terrified it would.

The soldier’s knife sliced through your leg then he thrust the bottom of the knife’s handle into the back of your head. You gasped as the pain exploded from those points on you, but watched your body tumble and continue to move toward Dean and Sam.

You closed your eyes hearing those mingled voices screaming again.


Just let me heal the wounds.


None of this is real…


You opened your eyes and found Dean’s face swimming into view. Don’t you dare leave me!

“But I didn’t,” you cried.

Dean’s face disappeared but in the darkness, more voices swirled around you. Voices speaking to you and around you, talking about dreams and about Dean doing something crazy. 

Sometimes I’m afraid that he will choose to stay asleep forever if you don’t wake up. Please don’t let him make that choice.

So, maybe I could find a way to be around more often.

I’ll stay here with you or we can go back.

Dean had given you a choice because none of this was real.

Your chest hurt and your whole body ached. That soft beeping was nearby again and your throat felt like you swallowed the desert. The thought of turning and running from the growing pain felt like the only option, but then you heard her voice pleading with you to stay.

You promised me I wouldn’t get you killed. Don’t forget that. You promised. Jackass.

Her words played on a loop as you thought about Dean giving up his real life for the false one you created. It wasn’t real, it was just the dream. This was real. The stiffness, the ache, and heaviness, this was where you belonged.


Serena. She didn’t deserve to watch you waste away, not after everything you’d been through. And Dean, he shouldn’t have to leave his brother, the one person he’s fought to protect his whole life because you want the easier route. And Sam, the one person that you would be letting down that you never even got to meet.

That tranquil, beautiful place you created was a sanctuary away from the mess but everyone you loved was in that mess and they made it wonderful. They made it…

Please wake up. It’s worth it.


“I’m just going to sit with her for a while. Thanks, Sam.” This voice was the same but different from the words playing on repeat in your head. She sounded so tired. There was some rustling in the room as you tried to move your mouth. Your tongue felt heavy and dry. What if you couldn’t make anything work?

Something warm grasped your hand and your eyes burned. How could you possibly let her know you were there if you couldn’t even move? Something warm and wet slipped down the side of your face and into your ear.

Dick. You tried but didn’t feel anything move. Dick! You cried louder and felt an itch in your throat. Another tear slipped from your eye and trailed into your ear.

“Dick.” It was so quiet you weren’t sure if you actually heard that with your ears or just in your head. But then your hand was crushed.

Serena’s voice was so low and shaky you weren’t sure she actually said anything or if it was replaying again.

“Dick.” A searing pain shot through your throat.

Serena let out a triumphant cry and laughed. Something jabbed against your mouth and with a few tries, you forced it to open. A circular object slipped between your lips. 

“It’s water. Can you sip? I can get some of the crushed ice and let it melt in your mouth.” Her voice was still shaking but it was different than before.

Sip. The word swam through your mind as you identified it. You closed your mouth and tried pulling on the straw. After a few seconds that felt like years, glorious cool wetness covered your tongue. Convulsively, you swallowed and the water soothed your throat. You sucked again with greater urgency.

“Careful. Take it easy.” Her pitch had raised and you thought you could taste her excitement but knew that sounded wrong. “Can you open your eyes?”

You were still reeling over the amazing feeling in your throat when you tried cracking open your eyes. It was easier than using your voice but only slightly. You got your eyelids up just enough to see a blinding light and let them fall at the stab of pain in your head.

“Sorry. Let me turn off this light.”

There was a click and the red light against your eyelids dimmed. You forced them up again but still had a hard time making anything out. The spots slowly faded and you thought you saw the outline of Serena’s face. You tried your voice again, “hi.”

She let out another shaky laugh. “Hey, hon.” Her face slowly came into focus. She was smiling then gasped, “oh my god!” Her face disappeared and her yell rang out like an explosion. “Dean, Sam! Quick!”

You hissed and she squeezed your hand, “I’m so sorry but Dean… He’ll be so relieved. Sam too.”

Thunderous pounding was drawing closer and then someone careened through the doorway still holding on to the jam, “what is…” A familiar face came into focus as his eyes shot wide. He stared down at you with mussed hair.

You tried heaving your eyelids higher and another face appeared beside him. “Who… are you?” You asked with a flutter in your chest.

Dean’s face fell and his whole rigid stance slackened. A hard chuckle bubbled up and you coughed. When you opened your eyes, you could feel the stiffness in your cheeks from your smile. “Hey sweetheart, it’s about time.”

Dean closed his eyes and dropped his head for a moment. Relief bloomed in your chest but it was dim as if it wasn’t your own. It didn’t make sense. You watched Dean and a thought whispered in your mind, not mine but his.

He walked to your bedside and when his head came back up, there was a light in his eyes you hadn’t seen in too long. He leaned over the bed and pressed his lips to yours. “Sorry, I’m late.”

Your cheeks hurt but you couldn’t drop your grin. Your throat felt raw and dry again but you were still able to wheeze out, “you can make up for it.”

He chuckled, it was watery but sounded so good. You tried to sit up but every muscle in your body groaned. “Not yet.” Dean whispered as he took hold of your hand, “it’s gonna take some time, but we’ll get there.”

You searched his eyes. “We?”

He pressed his lips to your forehead and whispered, “you don’t know the half of it.” Then he found your lips again.

Epilogue: Unspoken

@duchessofwinchester , @jodyri , @jamrsgang , @moonstonemystyk , @mrswhozeewhatsis  , @beyourownbeautifulmistake , @rosep16 , @jencharlan  , @spectaculicious , @kittenofdoomage,@clc546 , @amyisabellal


Melik Ohanian
Invisible Film, 2005

Invisible Film (2005) by Melik Ohanian documents a projection at El Mirage Dry Lake in California of the controversial film Punishment Park (1971) directed by Peter Watkins. Punishment Park was banned in the UK and USA for its anti-war stance following military action in Vietnam. Before entering the space, we hear the audio track and see the subtitles from Punishment Park. However in the next space we aren’t shown the actual film, as expected, but rather the image of a 35mm projector beaming Punishment Park into thin air in the same desert landscape that the original film was shot in. By rendering the film invisible, Ohanian comments on today’s political situation and how governments and the film industry control public perception and consciousness.


Wieden+Kennedy Toyko creates an instant fashion show using google image search and a projector screen.

xephos doing stereotypical alien things just to mess with people

xephos making crop circles in sjin’s cornfields to get back at him for taking some of his stuff and passerbys think it’s a cryptic message but really it’s just an insult in his language written all fancy with a dong next to it

xephos threatening to probe people’s butts and dissect them if they don’t stop annoying him and interrupting his work

xephos having an image projector and using it so that it shows him as a small green creature with a giant head and a laser gun in a flying saucer and he goes terrorizing sips and sjin in it