that was supposed to be whistling

Lawrence, Kansas

November 2, 1983

Dean doesn’t wake up because of his nightlight flickering. It’s something else. There’s a noise. A whistle. Maybe it’s a train? Or Sammy screaming even though he’s supposed to be asleep? No. It’s not different. It’s a ringing, shrill sound that increases even when Dean nestles further under his cowboy sheets.

The whistle gets louder. It sticks in him and shakes all the way to his teeth and Dean knows he should be scared. He knows it, but he doesn’t scream or run, even as the noise gets louder and the little figurine on his beside starts to shake and his nightlight flickers faster. He doesn’t move except to cover his ears. Maybe this is a dream and he’s going to wake up.

Dean.

His eyes fly wide as his name cuts through the noise. It isn’t just a word, it’s a feeling; something warm and safe but urgent.

Dean. Sam needs you.

Dean shoots straight up from the covers, panting. The noise stops immediately. He tumbles out of bed and pads down the hall. The lights are still flickering as he peeks through the nursery door. Dean opens his mouth but his brother’s name doesn’t make it out because now he is afraid. It’s just a shadow, but he knows, as sure as anything, he knows whatever he’s seeing is bad. He runs now, quiet and as quick as his small legs will carry him, flying down to the den where his father sits bathed in blue light from the TV.

“Daddy! Daddy help!”

“Hey, kiddo, what is it?” his father asks, pulling Dean into his strong arms.

Dean tugs at him insistently. “Daddy there’s a monster in Sammy’s room! It’s gonna hurt him!” he cries. He squirms out of Daddy’s lap and tugs him towards the stairs.

“A monster?” his father asks with a smile.

“Daddy, come on! You have to stop it!” Dean begs, pulling at the soft, dark fabric of his father’s robe. Daddy scoops Dean into his arms and heads up the stairs, still smiling.

“It’s okay, kiddo, don’t worry. We’ll get it,” his father reassures him and the low rumble of his voice soothes Dean’s fear. “Why don’t you go check on Mommy and I’ll get the monster, ok?”

“Okay.” His father deposits Dean inside the doorway to his parents’ bedroom and walks towards the nursery. Sam is crying now, but Daddy will take care of him. He’s really brave. The only person who’s braver is Mommy. She’ll keep Dean safe while Daddy helps Sam. Dean scurries to the bed where his mother stirs, awoken by the cries. He throws himself into her arms as her eyes open.

“Dean, honey, what are you…”

“There’s a monster in Sammy’s room. Daddy is gonna make it go away but I’m scared.”

“A monster?” The way mommy’s voice gets serious makes Dean feel cold. She looks worried. And scared. More scared than she was the time Daddy took too long to come out of the water at the lake last summer.

“It was standing by his crib!” Dean explains, hugging his mother tighter.

“Dean, sweetie, I need to you stay right here,” Mommy pushes him away and cups his face in her hand. “Okay, sweetie? Right here.”

“Okay, Mommy.” His mother moves fast and suddenly Dean is alone. There’s a beat of silence as Dean listens for the any hint of his parents then the ringing, whistling, screaming noise is back, louder than ever. Dean slams his hands over his ears, curling into himself and shaking.

I’m sorry, Dean.

Dean doesn’t realize the ringing has turned into a scream until he sees orange light fill the hall.

“Mommy!” Dean yells, jumping out of the bed. She’s there the moment he’s out of the door, pushing his baby brother into his arms.

“Take your brother outside as fast as you can and don’t look back!” his mother yells as flames explode from the nursery. “Now, Dean! Go!”

He runs, smoke filling his lungs as he races down the stairs. Sam is screaming in his arms and Dean can’t see his mother or father behind him. He nearly trips at the front door as another explosion shakes the house.

“John!” Mommy screams somewhere in the heat and smoke and Dean wants to scream too. Neighbors are already pouring out of their houses when Dean makes it outside. He turns back to the house to see flames filling the upstairs windows.

“Mommy! Daddy!” Dean shrieks over Sam’s cries.

His mother bursts out of the front door, her arm over her face and races to Dean. Dean runs towards her and she grabs him by the arm, pulling him away.

“What about Daddy?!” Dean cries, tears streaming down his face. Smoke sears his lungs, even as his mother drags him back from the fire. “Mommy, he’s still in there!”

Flames explode from the windows in a burst that shakes the whole world.

“It’s too late, Dean,” his mother says, pulling him into a crushing embrace, Sam squeezed between them. She lets out a sob. “It’s too late, baby. He’s gone. Daddy’s gone.”

Continue the story on AO3 - Let It Be.

Edmund x Reader: To Be Young Again

Edmund whistled as he walked down the halls. He was supposed to meet (Y/n) an hour ago, but his meeting ran late. He knew she would understand but would still be mad at him, but he didn’t care. Surprisingly, his day had been easy and mundane. He had a feeling that nothing could ruin his day.

    He turned the corner and nearly tripped on something…or someone. He looked down and saw something about the size of a dwarf…but this thing was ugly, and covered with bumps and hair. “Um,” Edmund breathed, taking a step back. There was a stench coming off of the creature, but he didn’t want to offend it. It could be a good creature. “May I…May I help you?”

    The creature burped and cackled. He peered up at Edmund. “Hello, hello, hello! What have we ‘ere? Ma’ name’s Errpo.”

    Edmund resisted the urge to gag at the scent. “Right, and your intentions on this part of castle, Errpo?”

    “Well, you see, I have this pet weasel. He, um–oh wiggle wots! I don’t have time for this!” Without warning, the strange creature grabbed some powder from his pouch and blew it into Edmund’s face.

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anonymous asked:

A few days before Christmas my boss was in the middle of asking me if I needed help with my workload and this customer started whistling to get our attention so my boss turns around and she asks him where luggage is and he pointed her in the general direction. When he turned back to me he said something along the lines of "I know we're supposed to take them over to the aisle but she whistled at me like I'm a dog so fuck that." He doesn't take shit from customers and thats why he's my favorite!

Darkest Desire ‘The Day Will Come When You Won’t Be’

Originally posted by thepumpkinqueenn

Chapter 1

(Summary: Negan’s introduction.)

It all happened so fast. Your group had been carrying Maggie through the dark woods. Trying to get to Hilltop when you heard whistling coming from every direction. You were surrounded and the next thing you knew your weapons had been stripped away and you were all forced on your knees. You looked at the rest of your group. Noticing Eugene who was suppose to be in the RV distracting these people from finding the rest of you. He was barely holding it together. You wondered what the hell happened. Maggie was on your left, Abraham on your right. You could hear a van door opening behind you. Being dragged out was Daryl, Michonne, Rosita, and Glenn. They were forced down in the lineup next to Abraham. Daryl had a lot of blood on him. You started to panic, breathing heavily. What had they done to him?! He stared right back at you just as surprised to see you. You only broke contact when Abraham squeezed your hand to calm you. He lightly kept a hold of it. The RV was in front of you and the door swung open.

“Pissing our pants yet? Boy do I have a feeling we’re getting close. Yep. Gonna be pee pee pants city here real soon. Which one of you pricks is the leader?” he had a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire resting over his shoulder. He had the largest wolf like grin, staring at all of you like prey.

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Okay so @misanderousmisfit replied to my post with “Awkward locker room encounter after the events of the last episode” and honestly how can I resist?

-

Jonathan loathes gym class; in fact he doesn’t think he’s ever hated a class as much as gym. Even math couldn’t compare to the tragedy of gym. The coach made him participate in everything, and considering he wasn’t the most athletic in the world, it was like a death sentence.

“Byers, you’re supposed to catch the ball with your hands not your face!” The coach blows his whistle as the other boys laugh and taunt him, and he drags himself off of the dirty floor. “That’s game point, hit the showers!” The man snaps, and Jonathan watches them all head into the locker room.

Not to be a cliché, but the locker room was like a personal hell of his. There was no teacher around to supervise so Jonathan often had his towel yanked off or even worse he was snapped with one. Since Will had come back, he’d been admittedly happier, but nothing could make him enjoy the gross locker room.

“Careful guys, better keep your towels on, the fag is here!” He hears Tommy H crow, the others snicker and laugh as Jonathan scowls. The guy had it out for him since elementary, but it’d only gotten worse after the fight in the alley.

“At least I’m not the one pulling other guys’ towels off, Tommy.” It’s a direct call out, and he’s not sure what’s gotten into him. But he realizes his mistake when he’s grabbed and shoved into a locker. One of the problems with being 5′8 and skinny was that he still fit into the lockers somehow. When the door slams shut, he tries to push it back open to no avail. The other guys in the locker room are howling in amusement, a few tap on the locker door tauntingly on their way out.

He could fight a monster from another dimension but he couldn’t keep himself from getting shoved around by pretty much every upperclassman (and some of the larger underclassmen) in his school.

The kids filter out; Jonathan wonders how long it’ll take for the coach or the janitor to come let him out.

He’s in there for a few minutes, legs starting to cramp and shoulder aching from the position it was in. Then there’s suddenly someone whistling as they step into the locker room.

“A little help?” He calls, humiliation washing over him as the whistling stops and footsteps come closer. Then, he spots who it is through the vent in the top of the locker, and he wishes he’d never spoken at all.

The locker door opens and Jonathan stumbles out ungracefully. He stares at the lockers, the floor, anything but the person across from him.

“Hey, Jonathan.” Steve greets hesitantly, Jonathan nods his head and waves feebly. “I’m guessing Tommy?” He asks quietly, and Jonathan nods once more. “Yeah, he’s been giving me shit too lately. Take my advice, hang behind after class under the bleachers until they’re all gone.” He explains. “That’s what I do.”

“Yeah, right.” He agrees warily, glancing up through his fringe to find Steve’s gaze much more sincere than he expected.

“And next time, try to stick next to me in dodgeball. It’s painful watching you take a pounding like that.” He pats Jonathan’s shoulder awkwardly, and Jonathan ducks his head, hoping that Steve will just go away so he can be miserable in peace. “By the way, Nancy’s been trying to get ahold of you. We wanted to know if maybe you wanted to sit with us at lunch?” He suggests, and Jonathan looks up in surprise.

“We?” He asks, and Steve smiles.

“Yeah, man. Monster hunting buddies for life, that’s a bond nobody can break.” He grins, and Jonathan is stunned as Steve ruffles his sweaty hair and turns away to head back into the showers.

Okay, so maybe gym wasn’t so bad.

10

whistle mv - colors of the rainbow (1/2)

8

As soon as you walked in with Lydia and Allison, all you could her was whistling and cat calling. And not from anyone, but only from boys you knew all too well. They were all starring at you, making you blush. Lydia and Allison gave you assuring smile and you carried to locker, putting away stuff.
- “And, that’s how to get boys attention.” Malia said as she approached you with Kira.
- “Well of course, I helped.” Lydia chirped making you laugh.
- “Still not as near as attractive as you.” you muttered but you knew that they all heard you. Even boys who actually weren’t supposed to hear that. Jackson looked at you, raising an eyebrow and then laughing.
- “We never said that you didn’t look attractive.” Theo said and you waved him off causing to Liam and Brett also send you a questioning look. When have those two became buddies?

Pink Monster

For @infinitizedstarlight & @cinnamin-suga:

Imagine a pocket-sized you resting on the kitchen counter as you wait for Namjoon to finish changing for your guys’ outing. You two are supposed to be heading to the grocery store to get food for tonight’s dinner. Waiting patiently at the edge of the counter, you swing your legs back in forth and whistle a tune that sounds quite like Hoseok’s “Mama.” You pick up the crumbs that lie randomly around you with your hands and toss them off the edge, trying to tidy up the counter a bit.

A door opens and in comes Namjoon, strutting his stuff into the kitchen counter. Hearing the sound, you sit up straighter and turn your head to speak, “Finally! I’ve been waiting for ten minutes! Let’s– What in the world are you wearing?”

He flashes you a smile and asks what you mean. You gape at him and give him a once over, noting that he’s looking… a little more pink than usual.

Namjoon’s sporting a pink and white zebra print shirt with the word “golf” printed in the center, black shorts, black shoes with donut socks, and a black beanie to top it off. You question him about his color choice, seeing as pink is usually far from his wardrobe.

Jutting out his hip and posing flawlessly with his hand on his hip, Namjoon flips his hair as if he’s in a shampoo commercial.

“Hey baby, my style may not be brand name, but it’s 100% boyfriend material.”

You’re completely silent from his words, having nothing really to say.

“This is why Seokjin dumped you.”

the problem with being the hero...

and banging the bad guy.

This was supposed to be some angsty smut, but it turned into Link having something of an existential crisis. Whatever. 

Uh, have some Link struggling with existentialism and trying to reconcile being the Hero of Courage and having a relationship with Power below the cut!

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Natasha Very Ill

It’s a quiet song. Your focus is on Sonya as she’s explaining the commotion and effects leading up to Natasha’s illness. But it’s a quiet song. With a quiet, almost angel-like voice singing it. Few instruments. Few special effects. 

Somewhere, someone is playing an instrument that sounds like an faint ambulance siren (more like, resembles a faint whistle that I associated with being a siren). I thought, “Oh that’s weird, that you can hear a siren, but I mean, It’s NYC, that’s really all you hear there…” and I continued to focus on the singer. And then I realized, “…but you typically can’t hear the sirens from inside the theatre…especially when there’s a performance going on.” 

And then it struck me that that noise is softly being made to make you think just that. It’s supposed to associate the link between a distant siren, commotion, yet be so soft that it seems as if it were in the past. She’s singing about doctors saving a nearly dead Natasha, the soft whistle of the siren-like instrument, the angelic voice.

It all ties together. And that’s really quite a beautiful piece of theatrics, if you ask me.

3

“Okay, I give.” You started with a shrug after you got tired of twisting blades of overgrown grass around your fingers. “Why did you run me all the way out to this…” With a now open palm, you began gesturing to the space around you, searching for the right words as Barry stared at you with a smirk. “Creepy field.”

“I guess it does look pretty shady, doesn’t it…” He conceded with a snort as he leaned back to rest his elbows in the dirt and tilt his head toward the abandoned warehouse on the edge of the forgotten lot.

“All it’s missing is a chainsaw murderer and a few ghosts.”

“Well,” He laughed, biting his lip and glancing in your direction. “It’s supposed to be a surprise but I thought it’d be nice to-”

A high-pitched whistle cut through the air around you, causing both you and Barry to jerk your heads in the elicited direction… A loud pop followed and suddenly, through a clearing of trees, you realized you were watching a firework display play out from across the river. With another boom that rattled your chest, you watched as the shimmering glow of another firework exploded, the colored lights flaring brilliantly through the darkening sky.

That’s when you looked to Barry, the smile on your face stretching about as far as it could possibly go before you realized he wasn’t watching the fireworks shoot across the sky… He was watching you with an unfathomable expression heating through his softening gaze.

“You’re missing it.” You enthused, bumping your shoulder against his.

“I came out here to see something beautiful light up my life…” He replied with a smile twisting at the corners of his mouth. “I’m not missing anything.”

(X) (X) (~♫♪~)

Imagine watching fireworks with Barry

i love that everyone writes Bones as a very physical doctor. Even when his patient is on a biobed and he  has all their readings written out for him on screens he still manually checks for pulse and touch checks for fever. Personally I always take that as a sign of him having really been a country doctor, starting outhis practice likely without all the bells and whistles starfleet has to offer, so he doesnt find as much assurance in the readout as he probly should, because how else is he supposed to be sure of his patient’s condition?