#(my phone is in dark mode so it makes the posts hard to see. lol)
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Do I keep trying for accessibility?
I know this isn’t gonna go anyplace, I don’t really have followers here and although I follow people here, since there is no way for me to read my dashboard I don’t think anyone will read this. I started trying to use this site again about a year ago, but there is no way to make it readable for me. I can’t read posts. Something about the site coding means I have to restart a screen reader for each line brake.
like this
and this
I have been asking for and suggesting reasonable accommodations since March - with not much in the was of response from the staff - depending on how you count it early March, second attempt first week of September, and the last update was 11-9 (basically ‘give us what phone you are using and we will see what we can do about the app. I gave them the info and they haven’t said anything to me since) I posted to humans asking how long I should wait to hear back - nothing, I tried to blaze it (hoping a mod would look at it and reach out, I didn’t expect them to actually let it blaze. Them letting something less than positive out there? LOL) also nothing.
So here is the thing, accessibility is hard. It takes time and money, and the staff is overburdened with everyone coming here. But here’s the thing, if they had starting addressing it in March this wouldn’t be an issue at this point. They could have been working on it for months before we got here.
Here are my suggestions as someone who is working on accessibility at her job:
Accessibility NEEDS to be part of your FAQs and a choice for your service tickets. I searched the FAQ and could only turn up a short thing about alt text - for tickets there is “Customize your blog” and “something else”
on the app serif fonts should be an option, with both light and dark background.
look into a accessible fonts there are tons of them out there (I know sans have been sold as more accessible and for some they are, but not for everyone.
There needs to be a way to make your dashboard have a dark serif font on a light background. I can make my blog look like that - so I can post but I can’t read my dashboard (guess what 4th person to touch my service ticket, low contrast doesn't have a serif font, so the wait for that answer was not productive)
Also, from my reading of the case law around websites, you need to be offering different sized fonts.
Twitter is going away, so basically I’ll be out there looking for a place that, or without social. I guess I will have a ton of spare time.
The TOG fandom is here, so I will never really be a part of it. Once twitter is gone I will have some affinity groups on discord - but the over arching fandom? So much of it comes back to this site and without pulling whole posts off into Word to change the font I can’t even know if it is something I want to read (also I use likes to denote the posts I want to try to read and culturally this site is super shitty about that)
One last thing - every bit of accessibility added helps non disabled people as well.
For my fandom friends from twitter and discord, how many of you had issues when dark mode was taken away? Think about how you would feel if the staff response was “you never needed that, you just need to try harder” and then they ghost you. And then every time you try harder your fellow fans are talking about how shitty it is for people to do the only thing that, ironically, is allowing you to read that post.
Do I care enough about this site to fight to make it better? Because I think that is what the staff isn’t understanding - I am trying to help them make this site better.
OK this really is the last thing, have some song lyrics: (from Working In A Coal Mine by Lee Dorsey)
workin' in a coal mine
Goin' down, down, down
Workin' in a coal mine
Oops, about to slip down
Workin' in a coal mine
Goin' down, down, down
Workin' in a coal mine
Oops, about to slip down'Course I make a little money
Haulin' coal by the ton
But when Saturday rolls around
I'm too tired for havin' funToo tired for havin'
I'm just workin' in a coal mine
Goin' down, down, down
Workin' in a coal mine
Oops, about to slip down
Workin' in a coal mine
Goin' down, down, down
Workin' in a coal mine
Oops, about to slip downLord, I'm so tired
#TOG fandom#accessibility#accessibility helps everyone#disability#learning disability#I think I will miss social media
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About the author! 12, 28, 42, 62
Writer asks!!!! Thank you so much for sending this in!!!! ^3^
12. Do you have any fics planned for the future that you're excited about?
I do!!!! I'm so excited I just have to sit my butt down and start working on it when I have the time (and am not distracted by all the things). If anyone is a fan of crossovers that's what this one will be and I'm just.... SO EXCITED about the idea I can't even..... but yeah it'l be awhile yet.
I'm not sure if ANYONE cares about it or not but here's a little blurb:
"The street was an odd mix of cobbled and blacktop as Levi walked down the road. A sword was on his back, a heavy blessed steel blade that was made for the variety of people who would use it in the sword's own lifetime.
It was a sword built for many instead of just one.
Each of the orphans got a sword once they’d passed the test and became members of the demon hunting squad. The truly elite would join the Order after becoming full fledged members of the church.
Levi sighed as a garbage can rattled on the sidewalk. There was, in fact, a sidewalk, but he hardly ever used it since this section of town didn’t have very many vehicles and the ones that did were regularly abandoned every few months when another attack would happen.
The garbage can rattled again as he walked towards it cautiously. He’d seen his fair share of his own comrades die because of the monsters they hunted.
Fresh from the deepest pits of hell, demons were hungry. Depending on the kind of demon would determine how stupid they were…or if they had any concious thought at all. He’d studied them all but he hadn’t encountered them all….yet."
28. What is your favorite/least favorite trope to read?
Lol I'm really bad with trope names so I'm going with au's!
Favorite: I really love action adventure au's or superhero au's OR tea shop cozy kind of au's. Action adventure though is sort of a go to for me or just..... Adventure...something different for the character that the story is about.
Least favorite: Fangirl gets the famous person (the only exception to this rule is in super hero stories). Ugh....I hate it. I won't even read alpha/omega stories....and daddy kink/mommy kink smut? Blegh grab me a barf bucket and an extra dose of cringe relax.
42. What decade would you visit, if time travel was real? Why?
I'd go wherever the Doctor would be willing to take me. ;P
Um......I'd have to say the 1920's? I'd get to meet my great-grandma when she was young and meet my great-great grandparents! I might even get to meet some of my family from Britain! I'd love to have gotten to talk to them, they were fiery strong women and I'm all for it!
62. Sunshine or Rain?
Lol depends on the rain. Storms terrify me but a gentle rain storm I adore. If we're talking about thunder and lightening storm then I prefer sunshine hands down.
My favorite kind of morning though is a foggy one. It's like it was ripped straight out of a mystery novel.
#Writer asks#Thank you so much for sending this in!#ILY!!!#I'm sorry this is so late!#I'll get to your tag games eventually too! I'm sorry I'm so behind!!!#(my phone is in dark mode so it makes the posts hard to see. lol)
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just for a day
summary: What’s a little acting between friends? If friends was even the right word.
word count: (idk yet man lol ) 3,373
request: Hello! I just wanna say your writing is absolutely amazing! If I may, could I request an 11 x reader where the reader’s friends keep bugging them to get a boyfriend, but they say they already do and they have to ask the Doctor to be their “boyfriend” (kind of like with Clara at the beginning of Time Of The Doctor) and eventually leads to feelings being spilt? If not, that’s perfectly fine!
a/n: this got WAYYY too long and for that i am so sorry lmao. i’m writing and posting this on the same day so if there are many mistakes or it doesn’t make sense that’s on me. anyway, i hope you enjoy this fic!
gif credit: @pavel-chekovs
~
“You’re back!”
You’d expected screaming. You’d expected yelling, and a fair dose of pterodactyl-esque screeching from the students in your advisory class, but what you weren’t expecting was crying. And lots of it. Nearly every fresh-faced elementary student was in tears, some sobbing quietly and some full-on bawling as soon as you walked through the door.
It was nice, cute even, but honestly a little disconcerting.
“Hi, everyone,” you said, shutting the door carefully behind you. The sight of their crying faces immediately activated your Parent Mode. “Are you all okay?”
“Perfectly fine!” Marih chirped, president of the class and therefore a little more levelheaded than the rest, which earned her a handful of disagreeing sighs. “What? Guys, you look ridiculous crying,” she continued, as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her palms and gave you a toothy grin. “We’re just happy you’re here again.”
You smiled at her, and reached out to pat the top of her head. “That’s great and all, but it’s like you guys haven’t seen me in ages.”
A heavy silence fell over the whole class. You saw students shift in their seats and look down at the floor, suddenly very interested in their black school shoes. Even Jaden, the class’s resident troublemaker, didn’t say a word. Marih cringed, ran a hand through her long dark hair, and smoothed the front of her checkered uniform.
“How long have I been gone?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. Marih seemed to cringe away at the question. “I thought I was only travelling for a week!”
“Actually,” Marih said, stretching out the word, “you’ve been gone for three months?”
Your mouth fell open. You stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded, before you dug into your pocket and fished out your phone – she was right, it had been exactly three months and a week since you’d left the school to go travelling.
You groaned. “Oh, I’m going to kill him.”
By travelling, you meant time travelling and by him you meant the Doctor. The madman in a box that you’d run off with. You had let him turn your life upside down in the best way possible since he dragged you into the TARDIS, with his stupidly gorgeous smile and eyes and – you were getting off topic. Now you were plotting the murder of the man that you would consider to be the most incredible thing that had ever happened to you.
“Hey, ma’am?” came a soft voice from the front of the room. Karyll, with her tied-back hair and glasses, looked up at you from her seat. “Why are you looking like you’re going to kill someone?”
“’Cause I am,” you said cheerily, shoving your phone back into your pocket. Oh, you were going to have words with him, and they would most definitely not be nice ones. “Have I missed anything big? Were you nice to my substitute?”
A collective wave of disagreement swept over the class, and you couldn’t help but let a smile slip onto your face. These were your babies after all, and if you’d really been gone for three months then they were sorely missing their Second Mom.
Maybe the tears weren’t that much of a surprise after all.
“Okay, good morning everyone! Now, if we’re still on schedule, and I really hope we are, we should be talking about integers…”
The late afternoon sun drifted through the curtains of your classroom, filling the room with an almost hazy glow as you sat with your best friends in a haphazard circle of desks. Your kids had all gone home already, and a little pile of flowers and chocolates sat neatly on your shelves, right beside your lesson plan folders.
Denise leaned forward to look at them, her curly hair falling over her face. She was the elementary students’ science teacher, and was so well-organized it was almost inhuman. She would have liked the planet where everything was arranged alphabetically, you thought.
“I’m jealous, my students never give me gifts,” she said as she leaned away. “Sis, where have you even been?”
“Long story,” you replied, and it was. You weren’t sure if you could fit everything you’d been through – travelling through time, going to planets lightyears away, and of course all of the near-death experiences – into a story that you could tell in under an hour, and you weren’t going to try.
“And you’ve been travelling? By yourself?” Julianne, an arts teacher, raised her eyebrows at you from behind her laptop. “God, that’s lonely. Oh – unless…” Her calm expression morphed into something truly evil in your line of work – mischievousness. “Unless you had someone with you.”
“I mean –” Oh no, this was going to be hard to get out of. “I mean, I wasn’t alone,” you said, hoping the smile on your face was enough to mask your utter fear. You knew exactly where Julianne was going and you hated it. “I was with someone.”
“Ooh,” Julianne said, her grin growing so sly it was sending shivers up your spine. “You’ve been gone three months, has anything happened between you and your travel buddy?”
Heat rushed to your face. If you were a cartoon character steam would be pouring from your ears. “Why would you say something like that?”
Julianne shrugged. “We’ve been telling you to get a boyfriend for so long. You said you’d be gone a week, and then you disappear for three months… that kinda says something, don’t you think, Denise?”
“Definitely.” Denise grinned, and you shot her a helpless look.
“We’re doing this because we love you,” Julianne sang. The light from her laptop was enough to make her look absolutely menacing. “So? Travel buddy? Or more than that?”
The Doctor wasn’t just a travel buddy, and he was so much more than that – but you hadn’t found the words for what he meant to you, at least not yet. Companion was enough for you and him, but even then, there was a weight to that word. And there was definitely a weight to your partnership, but you wouldn’t call it… dating.
Julianne simply waggled her perfectly shaped eyebrows at you. You swallowed. You and the Doctor were a long story too, and Julianne wasn’t going to be happy with “maybe” for an answer.
The words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Fine, he’s my boyfriend!”
I want to crawl into a hole and die was your inner monologue, and your background music was Julianne and Denise’s raucous laughter. I want to crawl into a hole and never have to face the world ever again.
--
Smash cut to you, standing nervously in your bedroom, gripping your phone so tightly you were sure it was going to break. Your plans of killing the Doctor for dropping you off late would have to wait. The phone rung once, twice, and you chewed your lip. If he was in the Time Vortex, any version of him could answer the phone and you couldn’t deal with that on top of everything, not today at least –
“Hello?”
You heaved a sigh of relief at the sound of the Doctor, your Doctor’s voice. “Help?” you squeaked out.
“Help?” the Doctor repeated. There was a blaring noise, and then the sound of electricity crackling. Something fizzled and popped, and the Doctor shouted something that sounded like a swear. “Oh, shut it – you – sorry, sorry. You were saying?”
“Uh, where are you right now? Are you somewhere?” you asked.
“I’m not somewhere, I’m drifting! Right above Earth, approximately right where you are,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice. It quelled your anxiety somewhat. “I’m doing maintenance. Agh – ow! I think I can see the roof of your house through the clouds, unless that’s someone else’s house. What color is your roof?”
You giggled. “It’s brown. You’re in the same time as me?”
“’Course I am,” the Doctor said. You heard the clanging sound of metal being dropped. “I never left.”
The Doctor liked to run off on his own when you were home and have his own mini-adventures. He liked to come back and say he’d spent his time with alien royalty, or something like that. But instead he was staying put, he was waiting, for you. It made the next part so much harder.
“I need you to be my boyfriend,” you said quickly, covering your burning face with your free hand.
“Oh,” the Doctor said simply. Another clang.
Oh? “Just for a day,” you coughed. “I kind of said that I had a boyfriend, and that he was my travel buddy, and now my friends kind of want to meet you. It’s my grade’s family day tomorrow, maybe you could, uh, show up?”
“And be your boyfriend,” the Doctor said.
You nodded, then, “And be my boyfriend. Just for the day. You never have to show up again.”
There was a beat of silence, and for a second you thought the Doctor was going to say no – he had every right to, of course, and you could just lie and say that he couldn’t show up – but the Doctor laughed, cheerful and warm. “Ding-dong! Okay! What time tomorrow? I have to study, I’m a bit rusty in places.”
Your mouth fell open for the second time in twenty-four hours. “You’re serious?”
“Very! Any pet name preferences?”
You groaned loudly, and the Doctor laughed again. “Shut up!”
“Alright, alright. Guess I’ll have to do my own research.”
There was another moment of silence, and when the Doctor spoke again, it was much softer, much less playful. His voice almost sounded fond. “Goodnight?”
“Goodnight, Doctor,” you said softly, and the call cut off with a series of short beeps.
--
Was it a surprise that you barely slept at all? You had spent the whole night with your imagination running at full capacity, your mind latching onto every single thought and concept it could come up with. You slipped in and out of sleep, lying still in bed whenever a possibility popped into your head. To say you were nervous was the understatement of the year – but what was a little acting between friends?
If friends was the right word for it.
You waited for the Doctor behind the school, leaning against the concrete wall and watching the TARDIS fade into this plane. Wind blew into your face as the TARDIS groaned and wheezed, eventually materializing in front of you.
“I’m not late, am I?” the Doctor said, sticking his head out of the TARDIS doors. He grinned widely, his hair falling into his face. You grinned back at him and pushed yourself off the wall.
“You’re early, which is a first,” you said. The Doctor frowned at you, stepped carefully out of the TARDIS, and frowned some more. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“I think I’ve earned the right to look at you however I’d like,” the Doctor huffed, adjusting his bowtie. He’d ditched the tweed for the day, it seemed, going with a long green coat that annoyingly complimented his eyes. The frown didn’t last very long, though, because he went right back to grinning brightly at you. He held out his elbow in your direction. “Shall we?”
“Here’s the lucky girl,” Julianne cooed as you walked into the empty canteen. All the tables were pushed aside to make space for all the games you’d be playing – in the corner of your eye, you saw the Doctor light up at the sight of all of the streamers and balloons. “And here’s the lucky boy – oh my god, Denise.”
“What?” Denise popped up from behind a large speaker, then blanched. “Oh, now I’m double jealous.”
The Doctor pulled away from you to lightly kiss both of Julianne’s cheeks in greeting. Julianne looked positively starstruck when he stepped back to stand beside you, quickly waving Denise over. Denise had her mouth hanging open, still clutching a microphone in her hands.
“Hi,” you said, gesturing at the Doctor, “here’s my boyfriend.”
The Doctor raised his hand and smiled. “Hello! I’m John Smith, lovely to meet you both. You’re my girlfriend’s girl friends, I assume?”
“Uh –” Denise blinked owlishly. “Yeah, we are.” Then, quietly and to herself, “Holy moly.”
You couldn’t help but grin at their flabbergasted faces. The Doctor rested his hand on the small of your back, and you leaned into his touch as if it was the most normal thing in the universe. That was enough to make Denise stumble into Julianne, who barely even reacted, as she was still staring wide-eyed at the both of you.
“I think we caught them off guard,” you said. The Doctor chuckled and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.
“You did when we met, sweetheart,” the Doctor said smoothly. Sweetheart echoed in your ears and bounced off the walls of your already racing mind. Your heart stuttered in your chest. That was bad.
“Oh, are we doing charm now?” you asked. “Are you trying to be charming?”
“I did say I would study,” the Doctor said.
“You guys are insufferable,” Denise said, but she was beaming at you. “If you could get your hands off of your travel buddy for just a few minutes, I need help with the mics, the families are gonna be here any minute…”
Her voice trailed off as she walked back to the speaker. You stood on your tiptoes to kiss the Doctor’s cheek, feeling his skin heat up underneath your lips. “See you later.”
“…See you,” the Doctor echoed, and bent down to kiss your cheek too. He turned on his heel and walked towards the decorations, softly muttering, “Ooh, balloons! Love a good balloon…”
You stared at him for longer than you should have, watching him poke and prod at the balloons lying on the tables. He put his face very close to one and smiled at his reflection in the plastic. Affection welled up in your chest, and a tiny smile slipped onto your face.
“Look at you, you’re smiling at him,” Julianne chimed, sidling up to you and nudging your side. “That’s disgusting.”
“Says the girl who said I needed to get a boyfriend,” you shot back.
The Doctor went still for a little bit and turned to face you, smiled and winked, then went right back to inspecting balloons. Julianne made a strangled noise, and you made one too. So he was doing charm, and you hated to admit that it was absolutely working on you.
“I meant to say disgustingly adorable,” Julianne said. “You’re so lucky.”
You gave him another glance as you walked away to help Denise with the mics – “help with the mics” was apparently code for “I’m going to tease you more about your new boyfriend” which wasn’t helped by the fact that every so often, the Doctor would look in your direction and just smile, which was enough to make you stumble over your own words and give Denise more teasing fodder.
The parents and their kids eventually filed into the canteen and you flipped into Teacher Mode. You stood next to your students, pinched their cheeks and then greeted all of the parents and got everyone ready for the program. (You didn’t notice how the Doctor mirrored you, standing a little far away and watching, a dumb smile on his face.)
Julianne and Denise were the emcees for the family day, big smiles on their faces as they rounded up everyone for the games. At the mere mention of games, the Doctor was back at your side at an instant, his eyes glittering with excitement.
“Please don’t destroy the kids,” you pleaded.
“No promises,” he replied, and then proceeded to destroy the kids in most of the games.
The first game had Julianne call out for whoever could bring an item of her choice to the table – the Doctor, with his coat that was surely bigger on the inside, had no trouble pulling out whatever was asked. Even when Julianne started to test the waters and ask for increasingly insane items, the Doctor just kept going. He jumped in joy like a little kid at the win, bounding up to you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. You’d just blushed and smiled, ignoring the butterflies that were multiplying in your stomach.
The Doctor holding your hand wasn’t new. The Doctor being close to you wasn’t new. The Doctor being affectionate with you wasn’t new. But now it was all under the guise of being your boyfriend. Of course it felt different, but to your surprise and growing horror, it didn’t feel bad.
The Doctor shouting your name snapped you out of your thoughts. He was standing on a piece of newspaper as Denise started to get music ready, waving his arms to beckon you over. His coat was gone, thrown onto a nearby table, and even without it he was dashing.
“I need you over here!” he yelled, still jumping excitedly. His hair bounced up and down with the movement. “I need a partner!”
You let your feet carry you to him, trying to ignore the stares pointed your way. The Doctor took your hand in his and pulled you onto the newspaper.
“Stay close,” the Doctor said. “I’ve got this.”
Loud, thumping music filled the air. The Doctor spun you around and you squealed in surprise, moving your feet clumsily to the music. Suddenly, it stopped, and the Doctor pulled you back onto the newspaper. It was a tight fit, and you had to press yourself against his body to even stay standing. The butterflies in your stomach went crazy at the contact, and once again you tried to ignore that, too.
“What did I say?” the Doctor breathed, his breath tickling your ear, his smile wide and manic. “Let’s dance!”
The paper got smaller and smaller, and the two of you got closer and closer. Sweat started to bead on your forehead, and the Doctor had rolled his sleeves up in the middle of all the chaos. In the end, it was just you and another pair of parents, tiptoeing on their own folded pieces of newspaper.
“I’ve got an idea,” the Doctor said, his voice loud over the music. “When the music stops, jump into my arms.”
“Seriously?!” you shouted, and the Doctor nodded enthusiastically. “You’ve got the balance of a drunk giraffe! You’ll drop me!”
“Do you trust me?” the Doctor asked.
There wasn’t any question. “I do!”
“Then jump!”
The music stopped, and in the split second where the Doctor stepped onto the now-tiny folded newspaper, you ran and leapt. For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn’t be able to catch you at all, and in your mind you could already see it – you crashing into him and sending you both tumbling to the floor.
The Doctor’s arms shot out and caught you. Cheers erupted from everyone in the canteen, and behind you your competitors both lost their balance and fell face-first onto the floor. You wrapped your arms around the Doctor’s neck to steady yourself in his arms, feeling him shake slightly as he kept you aloft.
“We won!” you gasped, still basking in all of the cheering. “As expected from my lovely boyfriend.”
The words left your mouth as easily as breathing. You smiled up at the Doctor, breathless from all of the dancing. His skin shone with sweat, his hair was a mess, and his bowtie was askew, but even that was enough to make you throw all caution to the wind – still in his arms, you pulled him down and kissed him.
Cheers erupted from everyone again, but you could care less. The room could be empty and nothing would have changed. As cliché as it sounded, all the mattered was the feeling of the Doctor’s lips against yours. Your hands found their way into his hair and he melted into your touch, pulling you closer to him.
“You know,” the Doctor breathed as he pulled away, “I don’t want this to be just for a day.”
“Good,” you replied. You leaned up to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Because I don’t either.”
#doctor who#doctor who x reader#eleventh doctor x reader#11th doctor x reader#doctor who fanfiction#eleventh doctor fanfiction#oh god i spend too long on the intro for this i'm so sorry
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time is fake
OK so all week, every morning I’ve dragged myself out of bed and had the thought, “can’t believe it’s already Friday”, and like. It was Monday. It was Tuesday. It was Wednesday. Yesterday I joked about it with several different people at work (do you ever do that? you see different people so you just make the same joke again?) and it was really funny that it was Wednesday and i thought it was Friday again instead.
Anyway, my Wednesday evening was very nice, Dude and I collaborated on making a lovely stir fry for dinner, and then we were sitting around and some-stars was going to stream Witcher 3 and Dude decided he wanted to watch too so he went and got his work computer and set it up so we could each both continue doing what we’d been doing and have it playing in the background. (If he’s going to watch he likes to fiddle with the display settings and anyway my computer is still in dark mode and IDK how to put it back the way it was but I don’t care that much. But I wanted to be able to keep poking at what I’d been working on, on my computer, which is hard to do with Twitch fullscreened, so. Also I loaded the Twitch app on my phone so I could write commentary, I’m addicted to providing unhelpful and sarcastic commentary, LOL.)
Then we wound up snuggled in the corner of the sectional watching the game unfold, as it was more interesting than we’d anticipated, and then I was answering questions about how the worldbuilding works (what’s with the oils? you put them on your sword. why your sword? well what would you rather put them on, your dick? oh that’s a thought. why are the Witcher Senses footprints 3-D, how do you code that? listen bud idk how coding works you can wonder that on your own, I got nothin. does the voice actor really sound like that? Um unlikely. --Then he went and looked up Doug Cockle on his phone which was hilarious to have running at the same time as the game.) and then we got distracted by the snuggling part and the stuff two people can get up to and listen we’re old but we’re not dead, so that was fun.
Anyway somehow this morning it’s Friday, I am not even like “oh i forgot and lost track ha ha” i’m genuinely shocked that it’s Friday, because yesterday was definitely Wednesday, and when I texted my dude to ask where Thursday went he is now pretending that the issue is that we got carried away and spent 24 hours boning and I’m pretty sure that’s not the case but it would be hilarious, so it’s funnier to just imagine that’s true.
So, I just spent Thursday boning, guys, sorry, you know, normal people problems, it’s definitely not that I’m having real troubles with the concept of time or feeling the general stress of our era in any understandable but mildly distressing ways.
(Upsetting fact: I only figured out what day it was because I was looking at my Tumblr queue and I was like wait why is it showing me Friday afternoon’s post? Where’s Friday morning’s post? Where’s Thursday afternoon? WTF guys?? Nobody should tell time by the rhythms of this fucking hellsite, that’s inexcusible.)
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Unteachable III: Distractions
Author’s Note: So, I had slacked off on this because I lost some motivation lol, but this series is back! I will try my best to post weekly!! Please let me know what you think! Happy Reading!
Warnings: Smut. Drama.
Parings: Professor!Henry! Cavill x Reader, Charlie Hunnam X Reader
Masterlist for previous parts.
Moving had been easier than you thought, it helped your brother wanted you out. He had done half of it for you, and when henry joined in you, you were in your new place within two weeks of signing the lease. It was not close to Henry’s, which in retrospect it didn’t matter. You saw him every day regardless, he would drive to you, or you would haul ass to him if you had to, but Henry didn’t require all of that.
The new house was spacious, and more importantly, it was your own, and it was all that you could want. Your living room was compiled of grays and specs of red throughout the decor. All modern, all easy and all just the way you loved it.
The call came late in the afternoon, it was not one you were expecting either. Henry was the only person that called you besides your parents occasionally, and he was on his way over.
You were tempted to ignore the number, but you didn’t. you slid your finger over it and pressed the phone to your ear. “Hello.”
“Angel.” His smooth voice sent chills up your spine, how could you hate and love a damn voice that fucking much.
“Charlie.” You breathed. “How did you get this number?”
“Your brother and sister-in-law saw me downtown, and I asked.” he paused. The breakup had not been on bad terms, but it had been a few months, and hearing from him rattled you.
“Oh.” You paused. “Why are you in town?”
“I accepted a position in town for a year or so,” He exhaled. “And I-,” he stopped his words.
The initial reason for the break up was easy; he didn’t want a long-distance relationship. But then that whole thing revealed issues with him you didn’t know you had. Were you not worth the distance? It’s all that you thought about, “I’m happy for you.”
“I wanted to talk to you about some things that happened before you moved here if you have a minute?”
“I have someone.” You blurted out.
He chuckled. “Congrats.” It was quiet for a minute, the words resonated with him and you didn’t have anything to say. Henry was all you could think about and had he came one month earlier, you would have jumped back into his arms, but not now. “I never wanted to leave you.” He said. “I just wasn’t ready to leave the life I had, you know?”
“I know that you didn’t think that I was worth the struggle of distance.”
“Y/N, that’s not true.” He scoffed. “I hate that you even felt that way.”
“Why now? Because you’re here.”
“I moved because this is what I thought you wanted.”
“That’s a shit excuse, Charlie!”
“That’s what I have, I tried to move on, but I couldn’t even look at another woman with comparing her to you, without thinking she will never be good as you.”
“Shut up.” Your voice broke.
“Four years of my life was spent with you, and you just move on.”
“It has not been easy.”
“Then give me a damn chance, please?”
The doorbell chimed right before Henry burst into the living room with bags of food and wine. “Y/N.” He sang. “I hope that you’re prepared to be wowed by the movies I got.” Henry spun around to the small table in the bay window, and then his eyes met you. He started at your feet, the frog slippers were your favorite accompanied by the matching shorts and tank top he had given you. “You look like you are ready to fight someone.” He laughed. “Are you okay?”
“Just the editor from the paper trying to change some deadlines, babe.” You chuckled nervously.
“Okay, I’ll leave you be.”
“Give me a chance, please.”
“Yeah, well, let me think about that, okay.” You ended the call, tossing the phone to the couch and ran over to him.
Henry was easy to be with, he wanted nothing more than time and to know you cared. It was hard not to care for him, he was dedicated to making sure it worked even though his job was at risk. Your arms wrapped around his waist from behind, and you inhale. “Miss me?”
“I always do.”
“That’s good to know.” Henry fixed your plate and poured the wine. “What was the editor saying?”
“She needed a new lifestyle article like tomorrow.”
“I can leave.”
“No, she can wait.”
“Rebel.” Henry turned to face you. The stubble of his five o’clock shadow teased you as he dipped his head down to your breast and sucked at the supple flesh. “You taste like cake. What do you have on?”
“Ohh. dropped the honey bun there earlier.” You laughed. “The food is gonna get cold.”
“We have a microwave.” He smirked.
“Good thing you brought that over, then isn’t it.” You pushed your fingers through his curly mane and wrapped your legs around him.
“I like to plan ahead.”
Henry graded papers in the library, third floor in a dark corner. He did this every Friday night, and it didn’t matter if you had plans or not, he didn’t leave until it was done. You’d grown used to the routine, five weeks of dating the professor, and you had learned he liked a procedure for everything.
“I’ll be done in a few.” He whispered after glancing up at you.
It was simple to say, you found this routine tedious and unneeded. He could grade papers in bed after he was done exhausting you. “Take your time, professor.” You leaned back in the chair across from him with your arms folded and a smug smile on your face. He always had a good way of making it up to you. Last time it was dinner and a movie. Only the dinner was you, and the film was rewatching the scene you’d done an hour earlier. Watching yourself fuck him done something for you, it was an experience. The way your body moved on him and watching his face distort when he was on the precipe of a release. You squeezed your thighs together, your teeth tugged on your bottom lip, and a sigh followed.
Henry peered up at you through the square, dark-rimmed glasses. “What?”
“Have I told you that you are incredibly sexy in this mode, just serious and brooding.”
“I’m brooding because one of my students won’t let me be productive. She insists on biting her lips and staring a hole into me.”
“Well, she definitely deserves to be punished.” You winked.
“Perhaps I can fit some discipline in after I finish,” Henry smirked, but the desire was clear across your face, and you were willing to take the chance.
“Or, you could do it now.” Your foot slid up his thick thigh, only making you wish you could ride it, better yet ride him in general. “It’s a high chance she won’t learn her lesson until this is properly handled.”
“She’s acting like a spoiled brat.” Henry’s hand touched your foot playfully and then dropped it to the floor along with your phone and everything else in your lap.
“You’re making a mess.”
“Twenty more minutes, baby.” He whispered.
“Fine. Twenty, no more.”
“Thank you.”
The exclusiveness of the library worked to your advantage because there was no way you could actually wait for him to be finished. The entire day had been a conjunction of him teasing you, and you get yourself worked up. You sink down to the floor, reaching for your phone and papers, but your knees guided you in front of him. The only light in this place was the desk lamp Henry had dimmed to keep him from distractions. He didn’t know the distraction was going to be something he didn’t need to see.
Your hands trail up his thighs to the belt buckle, and you watched him stiffen beneath your touch. “Keep working, sir. I’m getting my things.”
Henry’s deep breath was followed by a slight jolt when your hand gripped his semi-erect cock. You felt him lengthen in your hand, the heat rising as he swelled, and you gripped him. “Y/N.” He rasped.
“Shhh, this is a library, sir.” You lifted your head so that your lips could tease the tip of his head, sucking before your tongue swirled swept the drop of precum that beaded at his head. “Wouldn’t want to have anyone interrupt you doing your job.” You took all of him in your mouth, and he throbbed. His legs tensed, and the guttural moan made you wet for him. This might not be enough for you, your hunger for him was only growing more intense when you started to pleasure him. Your head bobbed up and down, taking all of him and then swallowing around his cock only to repeat the action again, grazing your teeth lazily over the veins.
His hand was under the table, gripping a fist full of your hair and urging you to move faster, and you obliged. You added your hands stroking him in between each suck and making him suck air through his teeth.
The floor creaked as the footsteps grew closer, and for a minute, you didn’t care if someone caught you or not; you wanted Henry to cum. You wanted to hear him fall apart because of the magic of your mouth.
“Y/N.” His muffled groans of protest only encourage further, and you suck harder, causing the warm and salty cum to spurt from him, hitting the back of your throat. “Hi,” he said, clearing his throat.
“Professor! It’s good to see you.”
“Dean Carter.” He leaned forward in his seat. “You as well, how are things?”
“Great, I would still love to have you over for poker night.” Dean Carter’s voice was savory, but it was apparent he was older without even seeing him.
“I apologize, I’m not really a poker guy.”
YOu teased licking the head of his cock and watched him jerk in your hands. He was so sensitive. You loved it.
“I see. Spending your Friday night here of all places.” he laughed. “I won’t hold you up. But maybe consider coming one day. I’m sure you would love it.”
“I will.”
The footsteps were departed, and you slid back up in your seat. “Got my things.”
“You’re a psycho.” He laughed.
“You’re welcome, professor. I gave it my best efforts.”
“You did well.” Henry exhaled. “I don’t even want to do this anymore.” He covertly dressed and stood up. “I want you naked... like now. But when we get to my place will work.”
“Is that a demand?”
“It’s a requirement.”
His apartment building had a constant stream of people in and out of it, but you didn’t seem to care as long as Henry got you in there and fucked you senseless. He carried you up the steps as if you weighed nothing and landed you against the door before it could get open. “We have to calm down.” you giggled but unbuttoning his shirt.
“You have to calm down.”
The door opened across the hall, and the face from your past slapped you in the face. He was still handsome. Perfect fucking face, charming ass smile, and he still had the power to make you weak.“Y/N?”
No. No, no the fuck it is not him. “Charlie?”
“Who?” Henry said, confused before lowering you to the ground.
“Y/N, you live here.”
“No, I do.” Henry lifted his hands. “who are you?”
“I’m Charlie.” he extended his hand.
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#Henry x black reader#henry cavill#henry cavill x you#henry cavill x black reader#Henry cavill fandom#henry cavill appreciation#laketa j writes#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill x y/n#henry cavill fanfiction
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Let’s Talk About Trackers...
Because of the major talk about them yesterday and how an anon tried to throw me under the bus, I want to make an informative post about the specific tracker I use and certain others do too (assuming they still use these). This will also go under a keep reading so you don’t have to scroll in case you read it and then don’t wanna scroll past it a second time.
I personally use a site called statcounter. What is stat counter? Well, let me explain with an excerpt from Wikipedia!
“StatCounter is a web traffic analysis website started in 1999. Access to basic services is free and advanced services can cost between US$5 and US$119 a month. StatCounter is based in Dublin, Ireland. The statistics from StatCounter are used to compute web usage share for example. As of May 2019, StatCounter is used on 0.9% of all websites. StatCounter statistics are directly derived from hits—as opposed to unique visitors—from 3 million sites, which use StatCounter, resulting in total hits of more than 15 billion per month. No artificial weightings are used to correct for sampling bias, thus the numbers in the statistics can not be considered to be representative samples.”
Statcounter I find has some cool features too if you do run a business site, which I aim to do in the future, here’s some of the cool analytics stuff they have if you’re a business marketer:
This above is a capture taken for the tracker on my OC blog @ / barashikki-dialoversoc
This tool here provides where the majority of your people come from, so it will help businesses to have features such as this, so StatCounter is cool to use for business and marketing.
But that’s not why we’re here, are we?
StatCounter says they provide you with IPs in hopes of blocking/banning them from your site and/or stopping fraud on your website.
Sure, that’s useful as I personally use that to block people’s IPs if they send me hate anons. But here is how it’s an issue... This specific tab, which I know M/C uses quite often from my former friendship with her: Visitor Activity
Now, let’s go there and break it down. I will be censoring sensitive information like people’s locations and IP addresses to protect them.
I want to also address the “xxx is now using 100% of its log space” too.
It may be hard to read, but it says the following
“Your Project Bara Shikki is now using 100% of its log space. This means that your website traffic data for detailed stats older than 7 months* will be overwritten to make room for new data. You can upgrade for $9/month to increase your log to 10+ years*. If you don't mind losing this old data for detailed stats, then no action is required on your part. Summary Stats are included with all plans and are unlimited.
* Estimated based on your current traffic”
For my other blog @ / dialoving-lemons, it deletes this info in 7 days due to the high demand traffic (it is a LOT more popular than any of my other blogs despite me being on hiatus there).
So while that is good, this information stays for a while. If someone is paying for this service, they can keep this info for a long time.
Now onto the part we are mainly addressing, addresses and IPs. I will use my own visits for the example (the white censor). And yes, you can appear on your own tracker as it picks anyone up who visits the URL.
I color coded this so we can do a breakdown.
Yellow is my city. Green is the state (will be providence if you are in another country). Then you see “United States” as the country it says I’m from. Your country’s flag also appears before your location.
^^^This here is already pretty accurate and sensitive information, and we haven’t even gotten to the second line yet.
For the second line, we have these: Purple is your internet provider. White, that’s your IP. See that tag next to it? You can click on that and make notes in it for when that person returns to your url. You can even sign up for notifications to get emails or alerts on your phone (if you have the statcounter app). How do I know this? This is how:
Incognito doesn’t have dark mode, so sorry for bright image lol
Idk about you guys, but that’d make me uncomfortable to know someone could just get a ping saying I’m visiting their page. Again, I don’t know what features M/C uses, so I can’t say if she has this or not.
So not only can you find someone’s location, internet provider, and IP (which I think is enough for someone who hack or screw you over somehow, idk. I’d want to look that info up) but you can also stalk when they’re on your blog. This is a big YIKES.
Now back to the breakdown of the image from earlier...
You can learn what device they used, their browser, get a timestamp, and also how long they were on your page. I personally don’t care sharing this info, many of us use the most updated browser of our choice and most of us are on windows 10 for computer users.
So... yeah. While I use statcounter myself to block haters and redirect their IPs so they can’t get on my page anymore, I feel this site does give out too much information. On top of that, the one we all know who uses this software also has some software that checks who unfollows her. She uses these to get dirt on people and to expose them, it is not for her safety.
Now some tips on how to be safe if you don’t want to be tracked thanks to me testing things out:
Use the tumblr app.
The tumblr app uses coding for mobile usage. It does not rely on urls, but another form of code. StatCounter cannot log this code, so you will not appear on the visitor activity tab.
View blogs in side view
This is side view for those that don’t know. Side view acts a lot like the app in terms of the coding. So viewing like this is safe for you to not appear on trackers.
StatCounter relies on you typing in and clicking on urls on someone’s tumblr page (if installed on a tumblr).
As long as you are on a way that doesn’t rely on url systems, you are safe from appearing in someone’s tracker.
And a final note, if you are going to use one like I do, for blocking haters’ IPs, then I highly recommend putting a disclaimer in your description. I immediately did that when I installed mine so people knew they’d get rerouted if they started crap with me. I personally feel that keeping it secret that you have a tracker is violating someone’s consent as you are gathering info without their permission. By saying you have one, them being able to use ways where they won’t be tracked is very useful and helps them feel at ease knowing they can decide if they’re fine popping up on your tracker or not.
Here is an example disclaimer you can put if you do put one in. Feel free to copy and paste too!
"Disclaimer: I use a tracker that allows me to see visitors’ IPs so I can block them if they cause problems for me, proceed at your own risk"
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Ben, Kevin and Gwen answer random questions:
DISCLAIMERS: THE QUESTIONS AREN’T MINE, I FOUND THEM IN ANOTHER POST, CREDITS TO OP. I FOUND THEIR BIRTHDAYS IN BEN 10 WIKI, THE CANDLES WERE MADE WITH A BUZZFEED QUIZ AND I’LL PRETEND KEVIN’S DAD WASN’T A FAKE MEMORY, HE WAS REAL, BECAUSE IT WORKS FOR ANSWERING SOME QUESTIONS. I TRIED TO DO THIS BASED ON THE TRIO’S PERSONALITY LIKE THE SHOW AND BEN’S SINGLE BECAUSE I DON’T WANT ANY BEEF AND BECAUSE EVERYONE SHIPS DIFFERENT PEOPLE WITH BEN.
😷Where or with who are you spending quarantine?
Gwen: I’m staying with Kevin at his mom’s house.
Kevin: What she said lol
Ben: At home with my folks, since Grandpa Max is a risk patient, he’s staying at Galvan Prime with Azmuth.
✊🏾What’s your position with the current racism tragedy? Are you getting involved in any way?
Gwen: I’m horrified. I can’t believe we’ve come to such high levels of intolerance and hate and that the government just adds more violence instead of trying to change the situation peacefully. I’ve been getting informed and learning, doing videos teaching people about racism, posted them on my social media so I can try and teach people more. I’m claustrophobic so I don’t go to protests, but I’m supporting from home.
Kevin: I’m fucking angry. I’ve been at the protests with Ben and we’re trying our best to keep people safe. I’m also working on a piece of tech to cover tear gas before it blows and some bulletproof stuff.
Ben: Like Kevin said, we’ve been on the front with protesters providing help and keeping everyone as safe as possible. Our parents are donating and we’re trying to get the Plumber’s help too, but they said it’s not their jurisdiction. Either way we’re doing our best and we’ll always stand with justice, peace and equality for everyone.
🐰- do you believe in soul mates?
Gwen: Yaaaas, it’s so romantic!
Kevin: Uh.. *Looks at Gwen* Only if it’s her.
Ben: Dafuk’s a soulmate?
💌- diary or journal?
Gwen: A mix between both, I love scrapbooking.
Kevin: Das some soft shit bro *He secretly hides a journal but he’ll never admit*
Ben: Why wasting paper? It’s better to keep everything on the Cloud
💕- are you crushing on someone?
Gwen: Hmm… Patch Cipriano *Kevin glares at her* JUST KIDDING, only you.
Kevin: This babe right here *Grabs Gwen’s waist and kisses her forehead*
Ben: *Simping* Jennifer Lawrence, Selena Gomez… there’s too many
💋- kissing in the dark or kissing in the rain?
Gwen: A rainy autumn day *Daydreams*
Kevin: Three words: Dark. Backseat. Lake *Smirks and winks at Gwen*
Ben: *Cringes for the Gwevin moment* Anywhere I guess.
🍼- what is your favorite memory?
Gwen: Fishing with Grandpa Max and my first karate tournament
Kevin: Buying my car xD
Ben: THAT ICONIC summer vacation, hell yeah
🌸- what is your favorite flower?
Gwen: Yellow roses, ofc.
Kevin: Weed *Gwen elbows him in the chest*
Ben: None, tho I kinda like sunflowers
💖- have you ever been in love?
Gwen: *Looks at Kevin and smiles*, yes.
Kevin: *Starts singing I’m in Love With My Car by Queen, Gwen glaring at him* Ofc I love you babe, I’m kidding.
Ben: My love belongs to Mr Smoothies
🍰- strawberry or vanilla?
Gwen: Both! Also love coconut.
Kevin: Those are some lame ass flavours, I rather chocolate or blueberries.
Ben: As long as it can be made into a smoothie, I’ll love it.
🍯- describe your favorite smell
Gwen: A new book and a autumn scented candle
Kevin: Gasoline and... *blushes*... Gwen’s shampoo.
Ben: Pickles and chili fries, duuuh.
🎂- if you had 3 wishes, what would they be?
Gwen: An infinite supply of books, making high education to be accessible to everybody and to reverse the damages the human race has made to the environment.
Kevin: My car to be completely indestructible, free food forever not only for me but to everybody and…*whispering* getting to see my dad at least one last time.
Ben: Infinite chilli fries and smoothies, to stop racism, misogyny and homophobia, and Grandpa Max to be around for a lot of more years.
🍪- cookie dough or cookies?
Gwen: Freshly baked cookies!
Kevin and Ben: *Screaming* Cookie dough! Salmonella won’t ever stop us!
☕- coffee or tea?
Gwen: Coffee in the winter or at college, tea for relaxing.
Kevin: Bring me the strongest coffee! *Slams fists on table*
Ben: F U C K I N’ S M O O T H I E S
🍃- would you rather live in a sea with mermaids or a forest with fairies?
Gwen: I can’t choose, I’d love both.
Kevin and Ben: *Smirking with pervert thoughts* MERMAIDS!
🍂- what’s your middle name?
Gwen: Catherine, but I rather being called Gwendolyn instead.
Kevin: Ethan, but dare to call me that and I’ll yeet you into oblivion.
Ben: Kirby, COULDN’T BE ANY MORE CRINGEEEEEE?
💫- what is your zodiac sign?
Gwen: Cancer (14th July)
Kevin: Scorpio (4th November)
Ben: Capricorn (27th December)
🌧️- favorite thing to do on rainy days?
Gwen: Read, drink tea and listen to calm music.
Kevin: Either I sleep all day or I’ll go to Gwen’s house.
Ben: Eat, sleep, TV, and rave repeat.
🍭- how tall are you?
Gwen: 5’6
Kevin: 6’3
Ben: 5’10
💒- which show would you want to live in?
Gwen: The Vampire Diaries or Friends.
Kevin: Law & Order *Screams DUN DUN*
Ben: Summo Slammers!
🎄- what is your favorite holiday?
Gwen: Thanksgiving, because of the family reunion.
Kevin: Saint Patrick’s Day, cuz I have an excuse to get fucking drunk and party
Ben: Christmas! Good food and gifts heck yeah
🍦- what scented candle is your favorite?
Gwen: Warm Vanilla Cookie or Pumpkin Spice.
Kevin: Enchanted Pine
Ben: Citrus Mint
🎶- favorite song right now?
Gwen: Sit Still, Look Pretty by Daya
Kevin: I’m In Love With My Car by Roger Taylor (Queen)
Ben: Human by Cher Lloyd or Game Over by Falling In Reverse
💘- 3 ways to win your heart?
Gwen: Don’t be a dickhead, be supportive, be funny.
Kevin: Respect my space, be brave and plz don’t hate my car
Ben: Be playful, funny and patient of my lifestyle which is very hard
🍩- current mood?
Gwen: Normal, concerned about the pandemic and missing my bff
Kevin: Meh, I don’t go out as often anyway
Ben: I WANNA GO OUT, I HATE QUARANTINE
❄️- what is your favorite season?
Gwen: I like summer but I love autumn
Kevin: I don’t actually mind
Ben: SUMMEEEEEEER
💍- your current relationship status?
Gwen and Kevin: Taken! *Kiss*
Ben: *Gags and glares at the happy couple* single and enjoying my peaceful life.
🕊️- 3 habits you have?
Gwen: Organizing my books by height, having always my room clean and never leave my house without my earphones
Kevin: The volume on the tv has to be in an even number, my car has to be always well maintained and my phone is mostly on silent or vibration mode.
Ben: Never spend a day without a smoothie, text Grandpa at least once a day or two, and collecting stuff I like.
🦄- how do you perceive yourself?
Gwen: Hardworking, introverted and intellectual
Kevin: I’ve got some roguish charm *smirks* and a little soft sometimes
Ben: Quirky, loud and funny.
🦋- how do you think others perceive you?
Gwen: Some call me golden child or goody two shoes. Probably teacher’s pet too.
Kevin: *Points at Ben* well, he thinks I’m strange and dangerous, so I guess other people think that too, maybe also an asshole.
Ben: A couple people think I’m an egocentric pain in the ass.
🌈- things I find attractive in girls/guys
Gwen: Physical appearance isn’t important, but I love smiles. I like a person who I can be myself with and is honest always.
Kevin: If a girl is fearless, strong and independent I become a simp for her tbh *Looks at Gwen* That’s how you got me at your feet babe.
Ben: I really like someone supportive and understanding, also bonus points if they’re not that serious, I want to joke around.
🍓- one secret about yourself
Gwen: I tend to be a people pleaser and I struggle with standing up for myself around my parents.
Kevin: I’m a sucker for my mom’s food and I’m actually sensible around the people I care the most about.
Ben: I’m not as careless and cocky as I pretend to be. Also I secretly love Lady Gaga’s music.
🎥- what show are you currently binging on?
Gwen: Gossip Girl, bakery shows and Stranger Things
Kevin: CSI and Law & Order, also Pimp My Ride cuz hell yeah old MTV shows
Ben: I mostly watch Summo Slammers but I also like Rick and Morty, Big Mouth and Stranger Things.
💗- who do you miss?
Gwen: My family and my best friend, Emily.
Kevin: ...my dad.
Ben: Grandpa Max, no cap.
🥀- last time you cried?
Gwen: The other day, while we watched A Dog’s Purpose 1 and 2.
Kevin: I don’t wanna talk about that soft shit
Ben: I had a very lucid nightmare the other day and woke up crying
🔪- scariest/creepiest experience?
All of them: Coming back from death in Legerdomain
#ben 10#ben 10 alien force#ben 10 ultimate alien#ben 10 omniverse#gwen tennyson#ben tennyson#kevin levin
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I saw the max facts (pun intended 😂) you did for that question a while ago. So I was wondering if maybe you could tell us some more facts about Max it doesn’t have to be anything too detailed but anything you know would be nice to know, pretty please 😊
Okay... RANDOM FACTS ABOUT MAX - PART 2
I went on deep analysis mode this time to try and say all of Max's little nice and cute moments I know of.. Pls take notice, tho!! I'm not trying to flex or anything, I'm just a simple peasant girl on Maximilian's kingdom for a long time and it happens I have FBI blood in my veins 😭 so It's all gather on my brain and hard drive lol SO! I'm just answering this ask with a lot of thought and care so you can know more about Max and how he is even more awesome than you think!!! (And just in text form, cause Max doesn't need to be tagged on more personal stuff on IG (there’s too much illegal fishing at my tumblr pond already! 👏). It’s probably weird to know certain things, yes, but at least I'm respectful, I'll never bother him with this kind of stuff). Well, enjoy the bible below to end up knowing very little about him, still haha.. Just some more small facts.
- Max was at a barbecue just yesterday. It was someones birthday from the set of his new movie. He drank his beer, like usual, idk about the meat.. there was wurst and chicken.. I'm not sure if he's trying to be a vegetarian or not (after that thoughtful video he posted) 🤔.. maybe he didn't eat it, I don't know!!
- a little while before the start of this shooting, he was at the Baltic Sea filming for the series he's gonna be in (just one episode again! Don't get your hopes too high lol he's gonna be a security guard who disappears mysteriously, so....)
- He helped his friend renovate his house a few weeks ago!! How could I forget that on the first post.. Then, he had to go to Hesse for the movie shooting, and his friend had to call another friend to come help him lmao damn
I think I could describe some videos I have then... at least there's some cool and funny stuff. (Friends himself tagged in the past and cast friends)
- Max's dad went to the same uni as him. Also, he voiced a police officer on the phone in a short film Max wrote and directed all by himself (he didn't act on it, but he was also another police officer over the phone haha). Another thing, his dad made the official music for one of his plays.
- The falafel day.. his friend was taking a piss filming Max at the shop from afar and zooming in, saying "omg, guys! I found Noah from Dark! He's right there buying falafel" lmao, then, Max is just standing there looking all wonderful with his perfect hair and such, moving his hands, scratching his chin, ordering his food, and his friend talks some more, doing like a rough Max voice "yeah yeah, I'll have that one. Good, yeah". 😂
- the day he went to take a walk in nature. His friend asks him for a cigarette, he is denied, he goes to take it anyway, Max slams his cup of tea on the table and tries to take his cigarette back and it's all black and they're just laughing lmao (I love his laugh btw, so giggly!)
There was storys posted by Max himself.. so, maybe you saw it, but it's from before dark s3 came out.
- The pigeon storys. He filmed two pigeons chasing each other at the station, one always running from the other and he captioned "me trying to flirt" haha
- He screen recorded an ad for an app that deletes people from pictures and made some joke too, I can't remember exactly what he wrote, smt like "when you break up, but still wants to keep the picture" lol also, he unfollowed like 5 people that week after posting that... hm 👀
- he posted a video of him walking in the dark with really cold wind.. you can only see his hair flying around. Also, with a mask on, another chasing a cat in a big field, and that one drinking his coffee and eating his yogurt (you most likely saw it already)
- Ohh.. His friend was playing Max's drums the other day!!! Made a lot of jokes, it was obvious he was messing around in Max's room (maybe they live together, maybe he just waters the plants lol idk). Some of the jokes were "I've been playing this drums since 1921" and "the drums and me are a perfect pair, don't ever believe otherwise". I wonder what Max said to him.. he can't do anything about it, he's not in Berlin hahah. He has a little giraffe in his room, and other home decors (you can see it on his drumming video on his own IG)
- he likes to read on longer train rides.
- there's a video of him screaming inside a wardrobe after being jumped by a friend and one of him putting lipstick on with the song "I'm a sexy motherfucker" playing in the background hehe we was tagged, it was easy to find when there wasn't much tagged post.
- There's moments of ppl filming something/themselves and he just comes and photobombs it lol he is just like thiss 👏 showing his tongue and doing a funny face and such. One of those I saw it on the IG of a Das Boot cast member I actually already followed before.
- this group was such a blast. There's a few pictures, one of them he's in a dress, he has white stockings on til his thighs, heels and all haha lovely
- His improv-group.. he was almost in tears singing "I believe I can fly" with the group on their last day.. But he was happy! A mix of emotions. He loves everyone, he expresses his love a lot to people in general, he says it and adds heart emojis to make sure haha you can see his comments going on IG of his cast friends, especially from Das Boot (I followed a lot of the guys). So, about always commenting something funny on people's posts.. I didn't saved those, so I forgot most of it, but one I remember was that someone posted a video of a hailstorm and he was like "what are u doing, free ice!! Go grab them" hahaha
- Max has that Noah picture where he's peaking by a wall (you know that one Baran posted) printed and framed! 👏
- Things he’s pretty much always with: his backpack and his big headphones (it's always on his neck. At almost every picture, from every year, with different people etc. I was confused when he had normal headphones at his farm storys. Maybe he forgot them in Berlin 😭. Besides those, his rings, necklaces and bracelets (always, for years and years! Same ones, even). He uses frequently on premieres, as I saw it. Sometimes they also show up on his characters in his one-episode works!! Hahah is so nice when that happens. You can notice this on my screencaps.
- that pic of him that is everywhere now (with glasses, holding a bottle of champagne), I posted that months ago.. There's 2 more pics and 1 video. One pic, he is pretending the automatic lighter that's on the table is a Harry Potter wand (but I think I cropped the table, right.. I can't remember). This was actually posted by Max himself and he tagged his friend who took it. I went to see if they posted smt and there was a picture where he is literally biting the cork of that bottle off with his teeth Lmaoo, and one video.. he is talking on the phone trying to block the view with his feet.. this man!!
- he really doesn't care about buying too much unnecessary clothes and shoes and stuff. He is mindful of his things and the environment!!
- there's a video of him on the set of Der Zauberlehrling, I need to recall where I got that from (maybe I could share this one. I'm not sure), he is messing with the broom and someone asks him "hey Max, what's that animal?" and points to the fluffy microphone. He says "it's a fucked up coala bear" (in english) 😂
Again.. I can't say names or anything, cause ppl are not mindful! Like.. I know I'm probably weird, but only for myself and my FBI office LOL I don't go over there and follow/reply to all these people’s posts and storys or take their videos and tag Max on them, this is just not.... nah. I'll always be respectful (yeah, some older stuff has gifs, cause he had like 10k followers, and 5 fans on tumblr lol But i never sent/tag him in anything personal directly.. that’s why i only posted on tumblr for the past year, in fact! I never thought things would be the way they are now a year later.. so, newer stuff it's not posted/gif nor ever will). I don't want him to be weirded out and like, disappear from IG!! I think about these things.. when people are being weird and stuff towards him. I don’t know how ppl don’t think about this when tagging him recklessly in random pictures and videos!!!
I wish he had more interviews, so we could know more proper stuff about him. (The few interviews he has are translated on my IG highlight. There's still an 8min interview missing there, cause I'm contemplating about being more of a bother to german speaking people, since I only have basic german..
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Cowboy!Kurt’s Mail Order Bride
Cowboy!Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler) x Mutant!OC
Descriptions: Old westAU In about 1900 Germany, Kurt has heard stories about the wild west and dreamt about being a cowboy for a long time. When he’s brought over to America and sent to live with Logan he’s excited, until he learns what hard work a ranch actually is. Logan knows a woman will set him straight from his shenanigans, and brings one back. Kurt hopes for love, but they can’t seem to get along.
A/n- I watched the (1964) western movie “Mail Order Bride” and thought it would be hilarious to make a story and stick our favorite blue fuzzy man in! Also... He’s kind of a whiny brat in the beginning... because that’s where he had to be to have character growth! lol.
Masterlist
Story!
Kurt laid in the back of the wagon, looking up at the night sky as they traveled toward the new place he would be living.
New York.
It was a large city in America, but he was hoping that it still had some of its western charm.
A lot of books about the west had recently come to Germany for him to read, stories of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, wild outlaws, good lawmen, genteel ladies…
He smiled as the thought came to mind that he may meet one of them.
The smile turned to a frown, however, when he looked at the three fingered hand he lifted up to look at against the sky.
Not only three fingered, but blue in the light, and invisible in the dark, except to his yellow-eyed night vision.
He turned over and looked where Hank, a large man wearing a pair of glasses, was laying back, napping, and he wondered if it was something learned here, since he’d traveled all the time with the circus, but had never been able to sleep, since they all stayed awake in order to set up camp as soon as they landed.
Or maybe it was the time difference since traveling across the ocean to America.
He pulled his well worn German copy of “Tales of the wild west” from his bag and started reading.
.
The sun shone down into Kurt’s eyes, waking him, and he saw that they had stopped moving. He sat up and looked around over the edge of the wagon, seeing a rather large spread of land, larger than what they’d take for the circus, even. He looked around further and saw Hank talking to a man in a wheelchair at the door of what he could only describe as a mansion.
Kurt hopped out of the back and made his way to the door, knowing that Scott and Jean had probably already gone to “freshen up” or whatever it was city folk did after a journey.
As he got to the door, Kurt had his eyes down and pulled on his hat so he didn’t have to see the shock/ disturbance in the man he was sure was the Professor’s face as he saw him for the first time, and followed the other two men inside.
“Hello, Kurt. We are glad to have you here, are you excited to be in America?” The Professor asked.
“Certainly,” he answered. “I have heard a lot of the cowboys here, and it has become my dream to be one as well.”
The Professor chuckled. “We don’t have many cowboys around these settlements anymore, mostly settlers.”
Kurt frowned, his hand holding his bag against him tightly.
.
Logan was at the feed store, putting in an order when a woman came from the general store next door.
“Oh, Mr. Logan, I’m glad you haven’t left yet, someone is on the line for you,” she told him, looking a tiny bit harried, but also interested in the happenings of whatever was going on.
Logan looked up, wondering who it could be and threw two dollars on the counter. “Just load it up,” he told the man before following the woman next door.
“It’s right back here,” she showed him, making sure the phone was working correctly before she left.
“Yeah?” He asked into the phone.
“Logan, thank goodness. It’s Xavier. Listen, I’ve taken in a young man- I’m not sure what to do with him.”
“Sounds rough Professor, where do I come in?”
“Well, I was hoping- He is very disappointed that there are no cowboys around here, he wants to be one desperately, I suppose.”
There was a pause as Logan didn’t say anything.
“I was thinking; your ranch is away from town quite a ways- he is affected physically- and it’s more like what he was hoping for-”
The Professor’s voice was a little tight, and Logan knew it wasn’t for only those reasons that he wanted to bring the new mutant there.
“I don’t know Professor, if he can’t hack it at city life, he ain’t gonna survive ranch life.”
“I think he would enjoy it much more, Logan, just being there,” came the pressing answer. “And, I will, of course, help with expenses if he needs anything.”
“Well… Suppose I could use a ranch hand. But I ain’t going easy on him.”
Logan could practically hear the relief in the Professor’s voice as he said that someone would be around with him shortly.
Shortly was a relative term when a simple trip to town could take a day, several hours, or just a few, depending on your mode of transport, and it was a mite bit farther from New York to where he was.
Logan raised a brow, but shrugged it off as he hung up the phone.
He finished his shopping around town and climbed back onto the wagon before turning his team back to home.
He was surprised to see a figure standing on his porch, and only relaxed after he could tell that it was Hank.
“Howdy,” Hank greeted.
“Hey,” Logan responded. “How did you get here so fast?” He asked.
Hank smiled his easy smile. “The new boy is a teleporter, and he was very motivated to come here. Took him a few jumps, but we made extremely good time.”
“Yeah?” Logan snuffed, looking around. “Where is he?”
Hank gestured to the other side of the house. “Out back. Your dog gave us a greeting.”
“Hm. Get in,” Logan told Hank and they continued around the house to the back, stopping next to the barn.
Logan saw his fluffy shepard mix chasing a lithe blue figure back into the herd of cattle that mooed and called to each other.
Logan climbed down and stood on the fence for a moment before whistling to the dog and the young man followed the dog over. “Keel,” he told the dog and it laid down.
The blue man stood next to the fence, a huge grin across his face. “Hallo,” he greeted with German accent. “I was just playing with your dog, he is very nice.”
“He wasn’t playing,” Logan told him. “He was herding you.”
“What?” Kurt asked in surprise.
“Buck, tend,” Logan told the dog, and the dog jumped up and ran back to the herd. “He’s a herd dog. He protects them, and anything that’s not a threat in the fence that can be herded will be.”
Kurt blushed a little and looked away in embarrassment. “Oh…”
“So, you’re the one who wants to be a cowboy, huh?” Logan asked as Kurt easily slipped through the horizontal slats in the fence.
“Ja, very much,” he enthused. “My name is Kurt,” he held out his hand as he greeted his new mentor.
At least, he hoped he’d be his mentor, he certainly looked like a cowboy; a day’s growth on his face, muscles to spare from working his place, he had the boots, clothes, and hat. A real cowboy. He grinned at the man who was a little shorter than him, but he just got a grunt in reply.
“There’s no time for messin’ around here, we have to unload this wagon.”
.
Days passed and Kurt was exhausted.
“But, I want to be a real cowboy,” he complained. “With the gunfights, and stampeeds, and cattle drives, and riding a horse everywhere…”
Logan pounded on the horseshoe held by the other hand with a hammer. “Ain’t that romantic.”
“I thought I was moved here so that I could be like a cowboy, but you all lied to me! You just wanted me out here to hide me from the town! I was doing fine at that in Germany, they promised I’d get to be like a cowboy!” He whined as he teleported around the shed rapidly in aggravation.
“Knock it off,” Logan yelled, startling Kurt into stopping. “They sent you here because you need some training to be a man and not an annoying kid anymore.”
“What? I’m not annoying,” Kurt denied.
“Annoying me instead of doing your chores,” Logan told him.
Kurt huffed and teleported to the ground to kick a rock.
“Didn’t your mama teach you any manners?”
“Nein,” Kurt snapped at him sullenly.
“Hm,” he set down the things in his hands and switched tools to shoe the horse standing by the post. “Maybe that’s what you need, then.”
“What?”
“A woman to teach you how to behave like a man.”
“A woman?” Kurt asked.
Logan grunted in reply.
“How is a woman going to teach me how to act like a man? Is she a crossdresser?” Kurt asked as he burst out laughing.
“Think I’ll go find one,” Logan told him.
“Really?” Kurt questioned, growing serious.
Logan tossed his head yes as he finished with the horse.
“A genteel woman?” Kurt asked a bit softly.
“Yeah, sure. One that won’t put up with any cud from you,” Logan grumbled.
”When will you go?” Kurt asked, his voice a bit surer, now.
“Well, horse is shod. Could head out tomorrow, as long as you take care to milk the cow and don’t let yourself starve to death while I’m gone.��
.
Kurt lay awake in the room he’d been told to sleep in, his hands unable to stay in one place for long, flitting nervously from his view to clutching the blankets to him to touching the book laying in the bed next to him.
What would she look like?
How would she react to seeing him for the first time?
Would she be like the strict school marms he had read about, or more like a caring mother?
How old would she be?
His age, or older to be a mother figure?
If she was his age, would she like him, or even be able to look past how he looked?
Those questions and so many more rushed through his mind, unable to be quieted.
.
The next morning he walked out to see Logan off, surprised at the amount of things he was loading onto his horse.
“How long will it take to go into town?” Kurt asked.
“Can’t go into town for this,” Logan answered. “No one is going to let their daughter go out to my ranch alone with me to live. Besides, we need someone who isn’t connected with the town so that it doesn’t raise suspicion.”
“Oh… How far will you have to go?” Kurt asked.
“Couple of towns. Should be back by the end of the month.”
Kurt’s eyes widened. “What will I eat?” He asked.
Logan shrugged. “There’s enough canned stuff, jerky and cheese to last for about that long, coffee, the well is good, milk from the cow, and some bread as long as you eat it before it goes bad. If you get real hungry, there’s always the horse feed.”
Kurt looked irritated as Logan kicked the horse and took off.
“Huh,” he grumbled, turning to the fence and jumping it easily, despite it being as tall as him, running to the dog and chasing it around, playing and rolling around on the ground.
A/N- For the next chapter, I also have to make a special note that the oc’s name is Bethilde (beth - ill - duh), because I named her, and then realized later that her name is spelled the same as Bethilde (bet- ill- duh). Basically, it’s just the pronunciation of the h, but Beth is short for (beth - ill - duh) and Betty is short for (bet - ill - duh) lol.
#Kurt Wagner#kurt wagner x oc#Marvel AU#old west au#nightcrawler x oc#angst#mutant oc#romance#multipart story#X-men#x-men au#Rancher AU#Cowboy!Kurt Wagner#Cowboy!Nightcrawler#valkyrieofsmut
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Universally Loathsome - Marilyn Manson x Reader
Synopsis: After his show at the Hard Rock in Orlando, you and your man put your complimentary Universal Studios park passes to good use.
Notes: I wrote this because Universal Florida is my happy place, and I need a pick me up right now lol. Also, this takes place right after this concert, so Heaven Upside Down era.
His lazy drawl fills the Hard Rock Cafe arena, as the strobes go crazy.
"I love you beautiful motherfuckers so much," he points to the crowd, to a response of deafening cheers, "Florida's where it all started for me, and... I almost got arrested for indecent exposure in Jacksonville, which is... pretty close to here." More cheering. "So if any willing gentlemen in the crowd would like to come up here... and let me put my dick in their mouth..." The cheers grow. "...History can repeat itself." He grins, stumbling around and leaning on the mic stand. "I wonder what would happen if I... oops," he pops the top button of his vest open. "Oh no, I can't believe I just showed you all my tits, ahh, I'm such a slut..."
The crowd is going absolutely insane, and he winks over to you suggestively. You watch your boyfriend, trying to hold in your giggles. He's in what he likes to call rascal mode tonight, you can tell. And good thing-- you two roped complimentary passes inside the theme park for the rest of the night to celebrate, so he can let out all this energy after the show. The regular park closes in a half an hour, horror nights too, with it being Halloween, but the extra hour is just for you two, paid for well no doubt.
After Mar's done and the strobes distract the audience enough for him to bound off stage, he runs into your open arms. After you hug your sweaty man, he picks you up, spinning you around and smiling like a big kid.
"Let's go play."
"Shower first," you give him a stern look. He nods, resigning himself to the fact that he's really gross and covered in sticky glitter makeup.
You hang out backstage as he gets cleaned up, saying goodnight to some of the roadies. You check social media and search for this concert, as you do sometimes just for fun, and see people already sharing photos they'd taken of Marilyn screaming or wading into the crowd.
You snort to yourself, and save one that looks right up his nostril. Beautiful angle, and perfect for blackmail when he's being a dick.
"Let's do this."
You turn, and see him dressed in a hoodie that reminds you of the full body zip from his High End Of Low days.
"I know what you're thinking, and no, this is not the depression hoodie," he sticks a finger in your face and wags it. "I burned that a long time ago." You pretend to bite his finger, and take his arm.
Your bodyguards, who warily agreed to leave the two of you alone once you get into the park, lead you down, out the back door of the hotel venue, and through a citywalk shortcut to the front gates of Universal Studios Orlando.
"I haven't been here since I was a teenager," you grin, listening to the entrance music and sighing from the nostalgia. "This has always been my happy place."
"I've literally never been here," he tells you, "We go to the one back home in LA, but I've never been to this one myself. I used to live here but I only ever wreaked havoc on Disney with Twiggy."
"Oh, Universal was spared?"
"Until now, yeah. So you'll have to be my tour guide here." He takes his sunglasses from his face, hands them off, and turns to his guards. "Okay, that's fine, we're fine."
"Sir, we really think--"
"We talked to the park operators, and there's like... nobody here right now, we're both fine," Marilyn insists, "Bye." So, you two are left alone as you walk toward the gates.
Your passes are scanned by an older woman who doesn't seem to recognize Marilyn, since his name on the pass is Brian. For the best. To your left, towers one of your favourite rides.
"The Rip Ride Rockit," Marilyn reads the sign, "Ooh. Ooh, I wanna do this. Fuckin cool looking."
"Bri, you get sick on roller coasters."
"I'm too drunk to be sick, the drunk sick makes me not motion sick."
"Well, glad to hear your body has a system," you sigh, and he takes your hand as you two run toward the lit up ride.
"You get to pick your song as you ride," he muses, "Motherfuckers should have my songs on here."
Because he likes to stir shit up and see what he can get away with, Marilyn uses a VIP lanyard with his face on it to get into the express lane.
"Uh..." the young employee hesitates, frowning, "Sir, this is a meet and greet for that concert, not for--" Marilyn puts his hood down, and the guy's eyes widen. He waves you both through, starstruck.
"Whoever said you shouldn't use your fame to get stuff... probably wasn't even famous," Marilyn says, pulling you up the steps.
"What's the hurry?" you laugh, trying to keep up, "You're just gonna throw up all over me anyway."
"It's a music ride, that's very exciting to me," he says. You can't deny you've missed this ride too, so you keep up.
You're the only two on the roller coaster train as you both pull the bar over from the side to strap yourselves in. The employee working comes over to check, and gives a thumbs up to the operator.
"Give me a handjob," he giggles.
"No! I'm gonna rip your dick off if we do that on this!"
"Nah, that'd happen like... on the Mummy." Apparently he remembers what the Mummy is like in the LA Universal park, and he's not wrong. "Uh. Uh," he starts to snap his fingers as the ride goes up, "Yeah. Hell yeah."
"What song?" you laugh.
"Stronger, by my boy Kanye."
"He's a dickhead, you know."
"So am I, doesn't make my music any less amazing."
You smirk. You'd picked Stronger as well, anyway.
After the ride, Marilyn hangs onto you, a little bit woozy. "That was a mistake."
"I told you."
"I don't listen, I'm a child, you know this. I don’t like the rides, but the rides like me."
You two walk through the park, past the San Francisco area of the water in the middle.
"This is nice. Just walking."
"Yeah," he says. "It's nice not to vomit." You rest your head on his shoulder, giggling.
You two do a few more rides-- he has way too much fun in Men in Black shooting at everything, and Simpsons becomes a favourite, even if the only part he could keep his eyes open for was the funny queue playing the episodes. He even takes some dark, creepy pictures with the employees in Diagon Alley, posing in his new Slytherin scarf he bought.
"Can this be used for sexy purposes?" he asks one of them, holding up a wand. The girls giggle, and you roll your eyes.
"Um. Wouldn't recommend it," one responds.
"On the other hand..." the second one shrugs, "It's magic. You could just make it into something that could be used for sexy times."
"I like the way this one thinks," Marilyn smirks. "(y/n), I'm gonna use this in you."
"Like hell you are.”
“Please?”
“You can use it to spank me.” You lean in to whisper. “It’s too thin to put it in.”
Marilyn buys the wand just to make up for the trouble he's causing the poor employees.
You head out of Harry Potter world, and circle back around to do ET.
"I wanna do the Mummy again. And what about those big ones across the citywalk thing? Spiderman, he's cool. I wanna do his ride."
"That's the other park. If you wanna deal with your manager having a meltdown by requesting another day here tomorrow, that's your call." He immediately takes out his phone, and you huff, feeling sorry for the guy, always having to rearrange flights last minute.
"Yeah, hey. It's me," Marilyn drawls into the phone, "I need another day here tomorrow. No, I'm just... I'm gonna be really hungover. Lots of vodka and drugs and stuff. Yeah. Amphetamines, got my face in a big... yeah, really bad, I won't be able to fly tomorrow." His eyes light up like a kid in a candy store as he sees the Halloween Horror Nights 2018 tribute store. "Gotta go, I'm snorting coke off (y/n)'s tits. Cancel my flight!"
You both run in, and get shirts from inside-- yours is a Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers one, and his is a Killer Klowns from Outer Space one, with a little clown in boxing gloves on it that says 'Shorty's Boxing Gym: Knocking Blocks Off Since '88." He poses for a picture of the new shirt in front of an old horror movie poster, hands in his jacket pockets and doing his signature sneer. He posts it on his Instagram, captioning it:
Next motherfucker's gonna get my metal. Pic📷: @(y/handle) #justustwoclowns #wannatussle #truelove #wehatelovewelovehate #happyhalloween #universalorlando #shooterjennings.
You head inside the Egyptian crypt that leads to the Mummy, listening to Brendan Fraser's fake interview about the strange things going on on set.
"I met him once," Marilyn tells you, "He was scared of me, he thought I was flirting with him."
"I can see how he would. You're just overly affectionate," you pat his arm.
"And high as fuck, but I wasn't flirting with him. He's too much of a pretty boy for me."
"Yet you still wanna fuck Johnny," you tease him, and he grins, unable to refute that.
You finally get to the loading area after Marilyn stumbles over four posts in the dark queue. The lady there squeals. She's a different one than the one working earlier, and she's obviously a fan.
"Sorry for her," her coworker says, "She's a huge fan of your stuff."
"Nah, it's cool," Marilyn offers a smile.
"I was at the concert, which is why I'm working late," she explains hyperactively, "God, you were soooo amazing!" Marilyn thanks her. She waves at you as well. "By the way, I see your pictures together on insta at shows and premieres and stuff, you two make a really cute couple. Goth icons!" You smile at the girl, and thank her and her coworker for working late for you two. An obligatory selfie later, you and Marilyn get into the ride, and start heading through the darkness. You get to the part where Imohtep's face appears and fire blows beside you.
"You say god," he mutters. "I say Say10."
You get off the ride, and you nearly lose your shit when you see the ride photo. You fall to the floor, and Marilyn looks up at the screen in inquiry.
"Oh my god."
"We're buying it!"
"Absolutely fucking not. Look at my chin!"
"I love your chins, baby."
"I only mentioned one, but thanks."
You dash over to the counter, ordering the picture in the biggest size. It's gold. In it, you've got one hand up happily, the other looped with Marilyn's, and you look generally normal, other than your hair blowing a little from the force of the acceleration. His eyes are glinting yellow from light reflection, so he looks legitimately possessed; he's got his chin pressed down into his neck folds, and his mouth is halfway open, like he just remembered something he wanted to say. It's the most awful picture of him you've ever seen, so naturally, it's getting framed at the house next to his lovely prosthetic limb collection.
"Mm, makes me wanna fuck you," you lick your lips, "Give it to me, baby, I wanna look into those sexy yellow eyes while you destroy my pussy."
"You're fucked up."
You nearly collapse in laughter again.
Despite the terribly candid ride picture, Marilyn decides he likes the Mummy a bit more than the Simpsons, and after riding it four more times without fail, he's nauseous as all hell (as are you) and done in for the night.
You hold hands, heading to the gates. "Hey. Want to stop at Ben and Jerry's on the way out?" you ask.
"Nah," he drawls, hand moving down to your ass and giving it a spank, "You're the only thing I wanna lick tonight." Even motion sick and half-way to hungover, he's still in rascal mode.
A car comes to pick you up, and some press follow you to the car for a bit, taking photos and asking Marilyn for comments on the park and the show until Marilyn wraps his Slytherin scarf around his face. He gets into the car with you, and rolls the window up. The paparazzi obviously saw the Instagram post.
That makes you think...
Messing around on your phone as you're driven back to the hotel, you giggle. Marilyn keeps looking over, but he's currently too nauseous still to speak. You giggle again, and send off what you'd just done.
"Happy Halloween," you grin, punching his shoulder playfully.
He looks at his buzzing phone, and snorts. His bad Mummy picture and stylish posing Instagram picture are side by side, with your accompanying text: "Get you a man who can do both."
#marilyn manson#marilyn manson x reader#reader x marilyn manson#brian warner#Brian Warner x reader#reader x brian warner#brian hugh warner#hard rock hotel#hard rock#orlando#universal studios#universal studios orlando#universal orlando#universal studios hollywood#theme parks#this is gloriously self indulgent#but the depression is hitting hard tonight so I'm gonna make myself happy by posting this#hopefully this gushy shit will make a few others happy too#concerts#fluff#marilyn manson imagine#marilyn manson fanfiction#heaven upside down#heaven upside down era#twins of evil
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Never Let You Go (mgk! Tommy Lee x Reader)
Requested: Anon
“I have 2 requests but they are completely up to your interpretation anyways, so for one like tommy taking care of his drunk girlfriend or friend or whatever you want and then another request would be tommy (lol love my tommy) where like the reader and tommy are friends and they’re at a bar and readers ex is there and shit goes down. Hopefully those make sense, do what you want!”
Note: Listen, I know it’s been a hot minute but my love for Tommy and Crüe will never die so thanks for being patient! Love y’all bunches and I will be posting about my updated writing schedule shortly.
word count: 2,712
[Warnings: blood, violence, cheating, toxic relationships, swearing, and alcohol mention.]
permanent tags: @colsonbakersnoseringmain, @lululovesgwtw, @kingbouji3
mötley tags: @lauravic
tommy tags: @chlobo6
After your breakup, you were almost certain that not even all the alcohol in the world could drown your problems. Heartache left an unfillable void in your chest that wanted to suck every last bit of your happiness deep down inside, never to be seen again. Luckily, your best friend, Tommy, was determined to spend the entire weekend proving you wrong. According to Tommy, alcohol can drown any problem if you’re with the right people– and he just so happens to be your favorite person in the entire world.
If someone were to ask you weeks– maybe even days –ago, you would’ve claimed that your boyfriend Kyle, of three and a half years, held the position of favorite in your heart. That is, until you found him grunting and thrusting into a woman that most definitely wasn’t you. Hell, she wasn’t even a woman you knew. As it turned out, your beloved boyfriend had been fucking other women on and off since they day you’d met.
Teary-eyed and utterly brokenhearted, you went to the only person you knew who could hold you together at a time like this– Tommy. In his usual fashion, Tommy had greeted your desperate raps on his door with a goofy grin and open arms. However, once his blue eyes met your red-rimmed ones, his chipper mood quickly dissolved into concern.
“Hey button, what’s the matter?” Tommy asked, using his long arms to envelop you in a tight bear hug. Button had been his nickname for you ever since grade school. Tommy had always been bad with names, and the rainbow buttons of your first-day-of-school overalls sealed your place in Tommy’s memory from that day forward.
You had prepared what you were going to tell Tommy on the cab ride over but, the moment he uttered your nickname, everything fell to pieces. Big, fat tears welled up in your eyes, dripping onto Tommy’s shirt like heavy rain. To your relief, he didn’t press any more questions your way. Instead, he shushed you softly and tucked you through the doorway with a protective arm.
It wasn’t long before Tommy had you curled on the couch, wrapped tightly in a quilted blanket with your head resting comfortably in his lap. He gave you time to cry out the rest of your frustration as he ran his long fingers through the snags in your hair. Tommy didn’t say much, even if seeing you in crisis mode devastated him to the core. You were always the strong one of the two of you, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to keep it together while you crumbled at his feet.
After a while, your sobs eventually devolved into pitiful sniffles, allowing you to catch your breath enough to finally speak. When you finally mustered up the courage to tell Tommy what your boyfriend– well, ex-boyfriend – had done to you, his blood began to boil incessantly beneath his skin. Tommy wanted Kyle dead. Hell, deader than dead. If you hadn’t just been sobbing in his arms for the past hour, he’d already be on the phone with Nikki to plot your ex’s demise.
Tommy physically couldn’t comprehend how a slimeball like Kyle could possibly have it in him to cheat on a girl like you for so long. You were patient, kind, and positively beautiful in Tommy’s eyes. For most people, a guy like Tommy is a lot to handle, but you never asked him to shrink himself in the presence of other people. You loved Tommy’s ‘too-much-ness’, as you affectionately called it, and wanted nothing more than to bottle it up and save some for the rainy days. Unfortunately, this day had been the rainiest of them all.
Although he would never admit it, you were Tommy’s dream girl, and he would do whatever it took to make you feel like your old self again. Even if it were only for a few, fleeting moments in between bloodshot eyes and broken cries.
...
It’s that same desire to make you happy that has Tommy dragging you to some sleazy new wave club halfway across town. You and Tommy are renowned metalheads in the L.A. music scene, but you can’t deny the way that the heavy synth and pounding bass lifts your spirits from the inside. As much as you despise its trendy nature, the appeal of cheap pop music isn’t entirely lost on you, and going to the last place anyone would expect to see you is exactly what you need right now.
The club is packed full of patrons, each demonstrating new and interesting ways to incorporate nylon and neoprene into their glowing ensembles. You and Tommy undoubtedly stick out like sore thumbs, but you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as he takes your hands and swings you across the dancefloor. You Spin Me Round blares through the sound system, causing the light-up floor to vibrate obnoxiously beneath your feet.
Tommy picks you up and begins spinning you around in his arms at a dizzying pace, causing you to erupt into a fit of cringes and laughter. The two of you haven’t even made it to the bar yet and you’re already giggling and shoving each other like a pair of carefree idiots. Tommy’s childlike sense of fun and comforting grasp bandaids the gaping hole in your chest for a moment, but the fear of your all-encompassing sadness leaking out again makes you shiver beneath the strobing lights.
As if he can read your mind, Tommy’s roughhousing ceases so he can stop and look at you. His dark blue eyes scan yours for any sign of an imminent breakdown on the horizon, but you quickly plaster on a brave face. You have no reason to hide the wave of sadness passing through you, but figure there’s no time like the present to practice looking fine in front of those you love.
Before Tommy can ask if you’re okay, you bounce on your tiptoes and grasp at his shoulder for leverage. “I’m going to get us some drinks, okay?” you project your weak voice into Tommy’s ear, practically yelling over the pulsating music.
Tommy seems to get the idea and offers you a weak smile as you turn towards the bar. Stay here, you mouth and Tommy shoots a reassuring thumbs up in your direction. With a shaky breath, you maneuver your way through the energetic crowd, doing your best to scout out the farthest available bartender. Initially, the crowd and the noise did a great job of clouding your memory, but now you needed a little extra help from some good, old fashioned hard liquor.
You belly up to the bar, relieved that the music is just quiet enough in this corner of the club that you don’t have to strain your voice as much. Giving the bartender your best fake smile, you order yourself a double vodka soda and a Jack and Coke for Tommy. It feels like it’s going to be a long night, and you could use all the help you can get to even dream of keeping up with Tommy’s excessive drinking.
Just as you’re about to grab the glasses and search for your lanky companion, you sense an all too familiar presence at your side.
“Y/N? Baby, is that you?”
You suck in a breath, the sickly sweet tone of Kyle’s voice driving an icy stake into your palpitating heart. No, no, no, no, you flounder, this can’t be happening. You turn around, mouth running dry as soon as your eyes meet the confident gaze of your ex-lover. It was a look you had seen a hundred times before, and yet the familiarity of it all is exactly what’s bringing you to your knees.
Kyle takes a step forward and you immediately find yourself taking an instinctive step back, the base of your spin quickly bumping harshly into the bar’s edge. Kyle rests a casual hand on the bar next to your hip, not exactly pinning you to the spot, but making it more than apparent that he doesn’t want you to leave just yet.
“Thought that was you, sweetheart, I’d recognize that tight ass anywhere,” Kyle purs, looking down on you with a predatory gleam in his eyes, “Miss me yet?”
The ice in yours and Tommy’s drinks rattles in its glasses, giving away the tremor in your nervous hands. You want to yell, scream, cry– anything, but you find yourself frozen to the spot. The memory of Kyle on top of that mystery woman in your shared bed replays in your head like a threat, reminding you that he never really loved you at all. Feeling small and pathetic in front of the man that abused your trust for so long, you silently pray that the floor might swallow you up.
You grit your teeth as hot tears blur your vision, but do not speak. A sob starts to build in your throat and, before you’re able to release it, a flash of movement catches your eye. Looking past Kyle, you’re relieved to find Tommy storming over to the scene with bared teeth and clenched fists.
“Hey asshole!” Tommy growls, jerking Kyle’s shoulder back in an effort to yank him away from your trembling form. The look of overwhelming fear and anxiety in your eyes fans the fire in Tommy’s chest, and it takes all of his strength not to drag your ex to the floor right then and there. In all your years of knowing Tommy, you never imagined he could ever look this furious and you find yourself getting scared.
You aren’t scared of Tommy, no, you could never be– you were scared for Kyle.
Kyle just laughs and brushes at his lapels for show, raising his hands in mock surrender, “Easy there, man. I was just about to ask my girl if she wanted a ride home, is all. Isn’t that right, hon?”
The cockiness in Kyle’s voice turns your stomach as he looks back at you expectantly, silently willing you to comply. Your eyes dart between him and Tommy, and you can already picture how the next couple of minutes are going to unfold.
Tommy steps directly into your ex’s personal space, the visible height difference making Kyle shift his jaw nervously. To anyone passing by, Kyle probably appeared to be in total control, but you knew him well enough to recognize the look on his face. He’s in deep shit, and he knows it.
“Funny you call her that, Kyle,” Tommy spits, his voice dripping with venom as he presses an accusatory finger into Kyle’s chest. “Make no mistake, I heard you had a girl– actually, a long list of girls. But Y/N? Yeah, she ain’t one of them. Never was.”
Kyle laughs nervously, puffing out his chest in a weak attempt to seem taller. “Is that right? Then what is she, then? Your girl?”
“And what if she is? What the fuck are you going to do about it?”
Tommy’s face is only a few inches away from Kyle’s, the tension in the air so palpable that even the bartender across the way seems to be frozen it. The bass from the dancefloor thumps ominously in the distance, its hollow thud matching the heaviness of your heartbeat.
To your surprise, Kyle is the first to relent. Casting you a bitter glance, he shoves Tommy’s chest away from his and begins backing slowing out of the room. His eyes never leave Tommy’s, watching him with the same caution as a zookeeper getting ready to feed a hungry lion. You breathe a sigh of relief, but it comes far too soon.
“Fine, have her,” Kyle hisses, “she’s a lousy lay, anyways.”
The moment the insult left your ex’s lips, his fate was sealed. Tommy’s restraint melts away as he lunges forward, his fist swiftly connecting against Kyle’s nose with a sickening crack. Blood spurts out from Kyle’s face and onto the glowing floor like a broken spigot, instantly causing your stomach to flip queasily. Even in the low lighting you can see splotches of ruby red seeping into the fabric of his stark white shirt.
Kyle stumbles backward, falling disoriented to the floor. He cries out in agony but Tommy continues to stalk forward, relentlessly hunting him into a corner like some kind of feral animal. You know it can only get uglier from here and, as much as you’ve enjoyed seeing Kyle eat his words, you really don’t want to add bailing Tommy out of jail to your to-do list.
Before Tommy can cock back his fist for another hit, you catch his arm. The glasses you were previously grasping in your hands clatter noisily to the floor, the watered down alcohol and soda pooling lazily at your feet.
“Tommy, that’s enough,” you warn, but the words are cushioned by tenderness you feel for him. All ever Tommy wanted to do was shelter you from all the bad things in the world, and you’d be lying if you couldn’t admit that he did it well.
With an angry sigh, Tommy begrudgingly allows you to pull him to your side. Snaking his arm protectively around your shoulders, he frowns slightly as you shiver beneath his touch. It pains him to see you this way, shaking with anxiousness in the presence of a man you used to give all your love to– a love that he didn’t even deserve. Without thinking Tommy presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, the touch so faint you almost miss it.
“I’ve got you, button,” Tommy whispers, his voice barely audible over the music. Your heart somersaults in your chest as you gaze up at Tommy, your watery eyes connecting with his soft blues. Even panting and red-faced from his encounter with your ex, he still has the same happy face that drew you to him all those years ago.
Without a second thought, you lace your fingers with Tommy’s, holding his arm in place as it rests on your frame. “Let’s go home,” you sniffle, nuzzling his bruised knuckles with the side of your tear-stained cheek.
You lead Tommy out of the club, leaving Kyle moaning pathetically in a pool of his own blood. Not even a bartender or a bouncer cared to bat an eye at his pitiful display, and you can’t help but wonder if he would look the same after suffering a broken nose. Kyle may have left a permanent stain on your heart, but Tommy made sure he wouldn’t be able to so much as look in the mirror without remembering what he had done to you.
The summer air is balmy outside the club as you and Tommy await the next available cab. You stand in comfortable silence, your form still pressed firmly against his side as he puffs on a cigarette absentmindedly. Tommy’s free hand curls around the ends of your hair, the small, intimate gesture causing you to blush.
“So,” you say finally, breaking the silence, “your girl, huh?”
Tommy’s eyes widen, his blue irises swimming in orbs of white. “Oh, uh, that? That was nothing– just, uh, don’t worry about it–” he stammers, his face flushing pink with embarrassment.
With a grin, you rise to your tiptoes and place a gentle kiss on Tommy’s cheek, stunning him into silence. “Someday,” you whisper, “Maybe not today, but someday soon.”
Your words tumble through the night air like a promise, intertwining with Tommy’s ever visible heartstrings and grasping tightly. Tommy always fell for girls hard and fast, but with you it was different. His love for you only grew with each passing moment, embedding itself in every look and every action until it all culminated into a single punch. You were what he had always been looking for, and he was exactly what you had been missing all along.
Tommy holds you tight for the rest of the evening, playing with your fingers on the cab ride home to eventually tangling his legs with yours as the two of you collapse in a heap on his couch. No matter what happens, no matter how long it takes– Tommy would be yours forever, and forever isn’t nearly long enough.
Masterlist
#i personally love this#but tell me what you think anyways#mgk!tommy lee#mgk!tommy lee x reader#tommy lee x reader#tommy lee#nikki sixx#mick mars#vince neil#motley crue oneshot#motley crue imagine#motley crue#the dirt#the dirt movie#the dirt netflix#tommy lee imagine#tommy lee oneshot#writing#the dirt requests
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Press F (Instagram/College AU) Ch.6
Lucas swears he’s the absolute master of undetected stalking.
Or: Eliott is instagram famous and Lucas is the disaster gay who accidentally likes his post.
He hasn’t heard from Eliott since Sunday.
The professor’s monotone drawling fades out to the background as Lucas flips between the apps on his phone-- a foolish attempt to keep himself from opening up the one he actually wants to check on.
Eliott hasn’t posted anything since the Saturday they were together.
He contemplates sending a message but he can’t think of a good conversation starter. Saying a simple hello is super lame. Eliott always starts their chats with a clever line. How does he come up with those, anyway? Lucas would really appreciate a little insight right now.
Lucas barely notices his classmates leaving the room and he scrambles to follow along, pocketing his phone so he’d stop staring at it already.
He’s only taken a couple of steps outside when a vaguely familiar boy with shaven head almost rams right into him.
“Shit, sorry!” Lucas steps aside at the last minute and the other boy’s arms do a hilarious windmill to keep balance. Neither of them end up on the floor so that’s awesome.
“Sorry!” The boy shouts back, looking at Lucas with wide eyes and a half formed grin. Lucas flinches, trying to hide the double take he almost does. This guy has the brightest green eyes a stark contrast to his dark skin and a bone structure that can cut glass. If he isn’t so ass over head infatuated with Eliott, his brain would probably register just how beautiful this person is. “Lucas?”
It takes a bit for him to realize that it’s weird how this person correctly guesses his name. “Uh, why?”
“Idris!” The boy -- Idris? Instagram Idris? -- says, enthusiasm evident in his voice. “I’m Idris, I mean. Eliott sent me.”
“Eliott... sent you?” Lucas keeps walking, not wanting to block the way to the classroom. Idris keeps up beside him. “But where is he?”
Idris hands him a cup of hot chocolate-- it’s the one Lucas gets once a month to reward himself for not keeling over in stress.
“He’s holed up in the library,” Idris says while Lucas’s still blinking down at the cup in his hands. “We have a project due very soon, me and him. We have to finish the storyboard.”
Okay, it’s been two days though. Lucas just hopes they’re getting enough rest. He’s seen a lot of the other film students walking from building to building like dried up zombies.
Idris keeps going before Lucas gets a word in. “His phone’s on airplane mode.” Lucas nods, watching Idris rub a hand over the top of his head. “Mine too, we do this thing. So we only focus on one thing at a time, you know.”
Lucas starts to smile as Idris looks at him, slightly wide-eyed. He has a feeling this guy’s been running on pure caffeine since the weekend. “Okay.”
“My point is, he’s not ignoring you.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“Good. God, I told him he’s overreacting.”
Lucas laughs, holding the hot chocolate to his chest. “He’s doing okay?”
“Yeah,” Idris scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “He forgot to tell you about the whole project thing before, you know, shutting the world out so he’s been freaking out about it.”
“Why?”
“He thinks you’d forget about him.”
“What?” Lucas laughs louder. “That’s dumb.”
“Yeah, well.” Idris shrugs, his laughter coming out in choppy chuckles. “Anyway, I’ve gotta get back to work, nice to meet you!”
“You too.” Lucas takes a step backward, smiling to himself as he sips at the hot chocolate. From Eliott. How did Eliott know about his favourite campus drink? “Idris!” He calls out before the other boy is completely out of sight.
Idris turns, raising an eyebrow.
“Good luck with the project! And tell him me forgetting him is the last thing he has to worry about.” He says in a rush, half of him hoping Idris doesn’t hear him but the other half hoping the opposite as he doesn’t think he can repeat that without combusting.
Idris opens his mouth as if to say something but then he settles for a pout, both hands shooting up to clutch at his chest. “Fuck, you really are adorable.”
Lucas turns away and brisk walks towards the next building.
Yann drops down beside him in the middle of Lucas doing his homework. He can feel Yann staring at him, but, infuriating best friend that he is, Yann doesn’t say anything as he does it.
“What?” Lucas breaks the silence, putting his pen down.
“What?” Yann returns, opting for the most innocent of tones. It doesn’t work.
“Spill it.”
“Nothing, man.” Yann looks down at the phone sitting innocently between them. “Just, you know, wondering if I should round up the guys to properly meet Eliott.”
That gets Lucas’ attention. “Why?”
Yann’s left eye twitches the slightest bit. “You can’t tell me there’s nothing between you two.”
“Well, there’s a thing.” Lucas shuts his textbook, losing any sort of motivation he had going earlier. “But there’s no thing.”
“Uh, okay?”
“He’s not my man or anything.”
“Why not?” Yann asks, incredulous like it’s easy. Or maybe for him it really is that easy.
“I don’t know, we haven’t really talked about it?”
He opens up instagram to a new private message, eyes narrowing when he sees the username.
emir.yous
hey
lucallemant
hi
emir.yous
I heard you’re good at chem??
lucallemant
I guess
emir.yous
can you help me with somethin
I think my brain’s melting
lucallemant
ok, imane’s better than me though
you can ask Abe to ask her?
emir.yous
no
she’ll think I'm stupid
lucallemant
lol
“Lucas, his friends are messaging you.” Yann deadpans, obviously having read the conversation over Lucas’ shoulder because fuck manners apparently. “I think that’s a good indication of where he wants it to go.”
“I don’t-- I don’t know, Yann. What if-- I don’t know him that well.”
“Yet.”
“But what if I... I don’t wanna get too attached and then for it to blow up in my face.” Lucas fidgets with his pen, twirling it restlessly between all fingers until Yann stills him with a gentle touch.
“Lucas, not everyone will be like that.”
“How do you know?”
“You’ve got to give people a chance to prove you wrong.”
“No one’s done it yet.”
His phone pings again, but this time it’s from a different person. Yann looks down at it and Lucas can see the hint of a smile fighting to lift his expression. “I don’t think you’re the one who needs to worry about getting attached.”
abebkhellal
what are those chocolates you gave him?
he won’t even let me take a bite
lucallemant
I can get you some if you want
abebkhellal
bro I’d love that
but I also love my life
and eliott will probably murder me in cold blood if you gave me the same chocolates you gave him
lucallemant
lol I'm sorry
abebkhellal
just show me where you get them
I’ll buy some myself
lucallemant
okay sure
Yann’s smiling when Lucas looks back up at him. “He talks about you with his friends.”
“I’m pretty sure they’re just cornering me into meeting them.” Lucas chuckles, sliding his phone inside his hoodie pockets. “And I talk about him with you guys too, it’s no big deal.”
“Are you kidding me? You never talked about Ra--”
“Anyway, what are we doing? Is this a slumber party now?”
Yann rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”
“Are we exchanging our deepest, darkest secrets?”
“That’s not how it goes.”
“Oh, so you’re the master of slumber parties now?”
“Yeah,” Yann shuffles lazily towards the backpack he’d thrown on the ground earlier. “Only slumber party invitees get to play this.” He pulls out the new game he’s just bought while skipping class in the morning, waving it around with a flourish as Lucas gapes up at it.
“No way, that’s so expensive.”
“Yeah, I saved up.”
“Nerd.”
“Then don’t play it.”
“No, let me!”
“Slumber party people only!”
“There are two of us, I’m the one making this a party!”
“No, you’re not even wearing pyjamas!”
Lucas sleepily watches the television screen, fingers barely moving over the controls as he lets the final boss crush his character for the nth time. Beside him, Yann’s already passed out on the couch.
He stretches out with a groan as quiet as he can manage, reaching over Yann to grab the remote and shut the screen off. He’s about to head to bed when his hands smack against the phone still in his pockets, and his fingers automatically open up instagram before his brain even registers the movement.
srodulv
you’re welcome
Lucas smiles, not exactly hating the flutter in his stomach at seeing Eliott back in his messages.
lucallemant
no longer on the plane?
srodulv
haha
I've landed
lucallemant
welcome back
how did the assignment go?
srodulv
it was okay
lucallemant
okay that’s good
srodulv
can I see you again?
lucallemant
I mean, it’s a bit late
srodulv
what are you talking about?
03h is the best time to go out and live our lives
lucallemant
lol stop that
srodulv
careful, you might hurt my feelings again
lucallemant
so?
srodulv
so you’re running out of ways to apologize :)
lucallemant
lol
srodulv
are you free on Thursday?
lucallemant
what’s with you and Thursdays?
srodulv
favourite day of the week
lucallemant
lol weirdo
srodulv
:) so?
lucallemant
okay
srodulv
okay, I'll wait for you outside your class
lucallemant
how do you know where that is?
srodulv
:)
lucallemant
stalker
srodulv
says the original stalker
lucallemant
lol go to sleep eliott
srodulv
good night ❤️
Lucas lays awake for a while after, tracking the cracks in the ceiling as his mind replays Yann’s words. You have to give people a chance to prove you wrong. He’s tried so many times, and every failure does nothing but strengthen the walls he’s trying so hard to scratch past.
But maybe.
Maybe this time.
Maybe.
lucallemant
good night
❤️
Maybe Eliott deserves that chance.
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Dance Magic Dance
A/N: Hello again! This was requested by the lovely @punky-pinkhaired-hufflepuff Like with the last story, this went a little differently than what was asked for exactly. Buuuuuut, I hope y’all still like it!
Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader
Part 1/1
Fandom: Stranger Things (Specifically, post Stranger Things 3)
Word Count: 1,084
Summary/ Request: Hello there if it's not to much trouble could you do a billy Hargrove imagine where him and the reader I presume? Lol are going to a Halloween party and the reader convinced him to dress up with them as Sarah and Jareth from the labyrinth (if you don't know what that is it's quite alright in that case you could pick a cute couples costume I'm just a huge David Bowie fan and he is Jareth from the labyrinth) thank you for whatever you come up with ^^
Warnings: Bad attempt at fluff (not my forte but I tried XD),
Ao3
Masterlist
This year, you were determined to make Halloween fun.
After the last few years you, and your boyfriend Billy, had endured, you decided you both deserved to enjoy the holiday. Tina, (who held the original party where you and Billy met, was having a Halloween reunion of sorts. At first it took you a hell of a time to convince Billy to go with you. After all, the party was all the way back in Hawkins, a place neither of you ever wanted to go back to. There were far too many horrible memories. The both of you agreed that the only redeemable moments spent in Indiana were the ones that only involved the two of you, and sometimes the party.
After the Mind Flayer was defeated, the paramedics were able to save Billy, he spent a grueling two months in the hospital recovering, but even three years later, he still had issues with his sides. But his time recovering wasn’t completely wasted, he reevaluated his entire life, and he made amends with all he had tormented in Hawkins. Steve Harrington ended up becoming one of his best friends. They had a weekly phone call every Sunday, to discuss the latest basketball games or whatever was happening in their lives.
However, it was also Max’s 16th birthday, and since Billy had become infinitely closer with his sister, he agreed.
Now all you had to do was convince him to wear his costume.
“Billy, C’mon! Jareth is such a badass character!” You exclaimed, walking into the dining room where Billy sat, thumbing through a car magazine. For the Halloween party, you were really wanting to go as the main characters in the movie “Labyrinth”, which came out the year before. You were both major Bowie fans, and the movie had quickly become one of your all time favorites.
And who could resist David Bowie in those tight pants.
“Yeah he’s cool, but his outfits are ridiculous. I don’t want the entirety of old Hawkins high to see my junk,” Billy hadn’t even looked up from his magazine.
“Half of them already have, what’s the big deal?” You asked, a smirk planted on your lips. You constantly teased Billy about his man-whorish ways in high school, it was a never ending topic of entertainment for you. Your jokes usually only ended in him rolling his eyes, or on the off chance, some sappy comment about how you were the only person he wanted to sleep with. But this time, you could tell you were in trouble.
Billy slowly got up from his seat, his dark eyes trained on you, and a shiver ran up your spine. You tried backing away from him, but your back hit a door before you could get too far.
“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be?” Billy was in predator mode and you were his prey, and there was little to no chance of escape in your small apartment, but you weren’t one to admit defeat.
You leapt away from the wall, narrowly escaping his hands as they grabbed for your waist. You were almost to your bedroom when you slipped on one of Billy’s socks, your hands flying out to catch yourself. However, before you even hit the ground, Billy had caught you, and had thrown you over his shoulder.
“I bet you think you’re so funny,” He said as he poked your sides, laughing at your grunts and giggles.
“Billy!” You shouted as you attempted to wiggle out of his grip, but he held onto your thighs tighter, before gently throwing you on your couch. He straddled your hips and held both of your hands in one of his, over your head, using his free hand to continue his assault.
“Say you’re sorry Doll,” You were laughing hard now, your stomach clenching as his fingers dug into your hips and chest.
“Fine! I’m sorry!” You yelled, and his fingers stilled.
“Thank you, that’s more…”
“I’M SORRY YOU WERE SUCH A MANWHORE IN HIGH SCHOOL” Billy sat stunned above you, mouth open wide as you nearly laughed yourself to death.
“Oh you’re in for it this time!” He said as he attacked you once again with both hands, this time bringing his mouth down to your chest as well, his moustache hairs adding to the tickling sensation.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I give Billy!” You were giggling like a maniac, and so you did whatever you could to stop the torment, you grabbed his face and brought his lips to yours, swallowing his laugh. His tickles immediately stopped as his mouth moved against your own, instead he hitched one of your thighs to rest on his hip and tugged you closer to his body. Your hands moved to the back of his neck, tugging on the short curls he had adopted.
Billy groaned into your mouth, pulling away slightly as you he panted above you. “That was a dirty play Y/N),” He said, as you giggled once again. You pecked his lips one more time before pushing him over so you were straddling him instead.
“I’ve got an idea,”
~~~
“Is… Is that Billy Hargrove? Who is he with?” You heard whispers from every direction in the room. “Who is that guy? Is Billy wearing a wig?”
You finally had convinced Billy to be Jareth and Sarah from “Labyrinth”, just not in the way that you had originally intended.
Billy was indeed wearing a wig, a long brown one with a braid keeping one side out of his face. He wore a puffy white shirt, a gold accented vest, and light blue jeans. His costume was simple really.
Yours, however, was the piece de resistance.
You had a spiky platinum blonde wig, a similar puffy white shirt, a tight black high sat vest, and the best part, high waisted, skin tight, snake skin pants. You also had a long black cane and wicked pointed eye makeup. Then you had used one of Billy’s old cups and pack of socks to create the iconic Jareth bulge.
You truly were rocking the Goblin King look.
“See? Told you this was an awesome costume.” You said as you looked at Billy, and he just rolled his eyes.
“As long as we don’t create Toby tonight, I’ll be happy,”
“Ew that’s your brother,”
“Oh my god Y/N, you know what I meant”
#billy hargove x reader#billy hargrove#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#request#labyrinth#jareth the goblin king#sarah williams
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its 2 fkin am and i wrote a thing????? way longer than i planned lol
m!ortega/m!sidestep, post-alley kiss in retribution.
It’s dark. You know maybe it’s a little dangerous to be out here at night without your armor or the protection of a...friend. But you don’t care. You simply look like a pedestrian sitting on a bench, having a smoke. No one can tell you’re still shaking. No one can tell you’re still feeling the panic attack from earlier. No….last night? Time moves differently in a panic attack.
Reluctantly, you pull your phone out of your pocket, watching the screen light up. 3 missed calls. You thought there’d be more, honestly. It seems Ortega is trying to honor your wish for space…
You sigh heavily, burying your face in your hands. You can still feel his fingers on your back, his hands on your bare skin. Tear start to well, unbidden, and you stubbornly wipe them on your sleeve. You’re not even sure why you’re crying right now. You thought you’d gotten it out of your system earlier. Emotions never did like to play by the rules.
Running a hand through your hair, you hold your cigarette in your mouth and take a deep breath...and dial Ortega’s number.
Sitting here, anxiously bouncing your leg and running your hand through your hair over and over, you know you must look a little crazy. And maybe you are. You’ve been so careful, but Ortega….something about him turns off all common sense. You’re startled so bad when you hear his voice that you almost drop your phone.
“Teigue?” He sounds...nervous. Worried. He always sounds worried.
You clear your throat, your voice catching when you try to speak. “Uh...hi….uhm…” Shit, do you sound as breathless as you think?
“Are you okay?”
You shake your head, even though you know he can’t see. You leg is bouncing even more now, nerves alight as you gather courage to… Christ, it really has always been this hard to talk about your feelings, hasn’t it? Your therapist appointment left you frayed and ragged, and Ortega’s kiss….his hands….it just sent you that little bit over the edge. Feelings are...the worst.
“Teigue? You still there?” Ortega’s voice sounds more concerned now and you smack yourself. You didn’t want that.
“Yeah, I, uhm….I wanted to...uh…” You pause to take a breath, to take a long, final drag from your cigarette before flicking into a puddle in the gutter. “Sorry.” The word sounds like a whisper.
Ortega takes a breath to reply, but you don’t let him. You already know he’s going to tell you you don’t have to be sorry.
“I just….I wanted to talk about yesterday.” The words are rushed and you’re not even sure you spoke them in English. You bury your face in your free hand. Why is talking so fucking hard?
“I’m listening,” is all Ortega says in reply, but it’s enough. It’s what you needed to spur you on.
Taking a deep, steadying breath--as shaky as it is--and speak. You force yourself to speak. “It’s not your fault. I just...wanted you to, uh...to know that first.” He doesn’t fill the pause you leave him. “I’m sorry, I just...I just freaked out. I don’t...touching is….” You sigh heavily. Why did you think you could do this?
“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I crossed a line…” You can tell he wants to say more, so you wait, but it seems he’s waiting for you to respond.
It takes all your energy to muster a grunt.
“Are you okay?”
That’s a heavy question, now, isn’t it? You don’t really know how to answer but something inside is yelling at you to just be honest.
“No…” The sniffle you add isn’t fake. Christ, of course you’re crying. Your head hurts, you still feel like you have too much anxious energy, like your body is three sizes too big to fit in your skin… You shake your head slowly, burying your face in the crook of your elbow, your sleeve catching your tears. You hadn’t noticed you weren’t holding the phone to your ear anymore until Ortega’s voice is louder. Startled, you bring it back, struggling to find your voice.
“Teigue? Can you hear me? Are you still there? Please, talk to me, Teigue. Please-”
“Sorry, sorry, I’m here, sorry…”
The sigh of relief he lets out is heavy. “Where are you? Are you home?”
Looking around, you suddenly realize you don’t really know where you are. It’s not somewhere you usually go, not that you keep usual haunts these days. But you haven’t been around here before. “No, I uh...I don’t know where I am,” you admit slowly, trying to keep the anxiety still spiking through you from latching onto this thought.
You try to pretend Ortega doesn’t sound even more concerned when he replies.
“Are you outside? Can you find street names? Buildings? Anything notable?” He’s jumped into crisis management mode--the next step is hero mode and you know he’d run across the whole city to keep you safe if he had to. “I’ll come get you if you need it.”
You start walking, rubbing your eyes to clear the dryness, the itchiness your crying has left, and looking for an intersection. As you round the corner of a larger skyscraper, you recognize the area. “I’m uhm...I’m near Memorial Park, I think. A few blocks away, maybe…”
“I’ll be there soon,” he promises.
“‘Kay…” Is all you can muster before hanging up. Despite your unease, you feel a little calmer knowing someone’s coming to your rescue.
When you finally arrive at the park, you find an unoccupied bend and nearly collapse into it. Your body feels heavy, and you may as well have dragged yourself here. Exhaustion sits in your very bones, and you pull up the collar of your drab olive military jacket. You wish you’d worn a hoodie today, but you weren’t exactly in your right mind when you left your apartment. Did you even make it back home yesterday? You don’t really remember, and that’s disconcerting. You’re no stranger to panic attacks. You know how disorienting they can be. But you can’t afford to get lost like this. You can’t afford to lose yourself to your mind. Not anymore. You feel the pull of sleep dragging you into darkness when a hand rests on your shoulder. You snap up, eyes wide with panic, arms raised in defense before Ortega’s voice fills your ears. He brushes your hair from your eyes and you can see the worry clearly written on his face.
You can’t help it. You practically throw yourself at him. You’re tired and you don’t feel good and you’re still buzzing with residual anxiety and that’s what you’ve decided to blame your actions on.
He catches you, because of course he does. His arms are strong and tight and safe around you. You feel safe. You feel okay. It’s….odd, that he has that effect on you.
He pulls back for a moment, taking you in. You must look worse than you thought, if the furrow in his brow is anything to go by. “Let’s get you home, okay?” He wraps a steady arm around you and you suddenly feel ashamed at needing help. His help.
You shake your head, hair falling in your face. “I don’t….I don’t wanna be alone…” Your voice is practically a whimper.
He just holds you tighter. “Okay, that’s all right. We’ll go to my place, okay? You’ve got clean clothes there still.”
A nod. You think you nodded. You can’t find your voice, so you hope you nodded. Your lip is quivering and if you opened your mouth you know all that would come out is a strangled cry. You don’t want to be alone. But you’re not sure you want to be around someone else. Does Ortega override that? You’re not sure yet. He overrides a lot of things… All you can manage to do right now is hold onto him and let him help you. You know you need it.
#fallen hero rebirth#fallen hero retribution#ricardo ortega#sidestep#chargestep#fhr fic#my oc#teigue bayani#hmmm i need a ship name huh#fic#fhr spoilers
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The Switch .
Be careful what you wish for
-
Part 1
“Wow, so you’re just gonna look at her ass right in front of me?” You witnessed as Erik blatantly watched a girl walk past your dinner table .
“You tripping” he rolled his eyes and overlooked the dinner menu. The two of you sat at a small Haitian restaurant, one you dined in often .
“Oh I’m tripping, you’re just doing it to piss me off. Her ass wasn’t even that big”
“It was bigger than yours”
You looked up towards the ceiling, trying to compose yourself . The hand of god was all that could hold you back from attacking . A scene wasn’t needed at this time . Your hands folded in prayer position as you spoke . “Fuck you” came from your mouth like venom.
Luckily, the happy waitress walked over to the two of you . She had already brought the two of you water so it was time to order . “What would you like to eat?” She asked .
You knew exactly what you wanted. You wanted to break Erik’s pockets for disrespecting you . You listened to him order his griot humbly. Then it was your turn .
“I want the two lobster tails and steak” Your lips moved slowly as you looked Erik in the eye, awaiting his reaction. The waitress took your menus and walked away. She could feel the bad vibes approaching .
“You ordering lobster ? You know that shit is high, it’s market priced!” He yelled through his gritted teeth, a couple of customers glared in his direction . Erik had no shame , he never did . “Sometimes , I wish I could be a fucking girl and have my shit paid for” his arms folded, like an angry toddler.
“Whatever, well I wish I could be you and have the freedom to look at, talk to, and flirt with who I wanted” you thought about the past and some of the disrespectful things he’d done. As a woman, unfortunately you didn’t have those same luxuries. “God forbid I look at another man, you’d freak out”
The two of you sat silently for some time, your leg shook with anger . You were ready for this night to be over . The waitress returned to the table, placing two alcoholic beverages down.
“We ain’t order these” Erik scoffed rudely.
“They are complements from the owner, she’s at the bar”
You looked to the bar, seeing the elderly Haitian woman staring at the two of you . She wore traditional Haitian clothing , accompanied with a head wrap and dress. You mouthed “Thank you”. In return she gave you an odd smile . You thought nothing of it as you nudged Erik to do the same . Erik continued to be rude and said nothing .
“She always gives drinks to couples, she’s a bit weird” the waitress chuckled and left . You took a sip. Erik did too, he would have been a fool to turn down free alcohol. The food came and the two of you ate. Erik unhappily paid for the expensive bill and the two of you left in Eriks car .
“Take me home” the night was over for you. The original plan was to go to Eriks house, but after dinner you wanted to be in your own space . He increased his speed as if he couldn’t wait to get you out of his car . Once he arrived at your apartment you pulled sixty dollars out of your purse and slammed it on his dashboard.
“I can pay for my own food from now on. Since you want to be a girl“ you exited out of his car and shut his door forcefully. The slam only added fuel to the argument .
“I’m about to use this money to take the girl with the ass out!” Erik’s tires screeched as he sped off and away from your apartment complex .
Physically, you didn’t even have the energy to scream back at him. “Three fucking years and he complains about some damn lobster “ you mumbled angrily to yourself as you walked into your apartment. Your body flopped on the couch and you spread yourself out . Feeling the effects of that potent drink from dinner, you fell right asleep until the morning.
-
When morning came, usually the shining light from the sun would wake you . It was Nothing but pure darkness when you opened your eyes . Almost exactly how it was when you slept at Eriks apartment. You stretched your arms out, accidentally knocking a glass cup from the night stand onto the floor, it shattered . You thought it was impossible because the floor was carpeted . Then the memories of sleeping on your couch came into your mind. How did you end up in the bed.
“What the fuck?” You said outloud. Your body froze. Your voice was always low when you first woke up. But now, the baritone of your voice was much too deep . Unknowingly , you placed your hands on your face, feeling scruffy hair around your chin and cheeks .
“What the fuck!” You screamed again, your voice was just as deep as before . You sat up, shifting your hair. The tiny dreadlocks on your head ran across your fingers . You leaned over and turned on the lamp, illuminating the dark room. It was Eriks room, black shades and a hardwood floor splattered with glass. You looked down at your flat bare chest. “What the fuck!” The scream was more high pinched this time . The masculine hands that were now yours crept under the covers. They felt the huge dick that nestled between your legs . You jumped out of the bed quickly , falling onto the floor hard . Getting up was a struggle due to your new found height . Deathly afraid of what you may see in the mirror , you went into the bathroom. Eyes shut as you stood in front of it .
“You high, you gotta be off something . This is a fucking dream. You gotta calm down” you told yourself , like a mantra . You took a couple deep breaths , feeling your abs tighten . You didn’t have abs.
You opened your eyes and looked into the mirror . Eriks face stared back at you. “No , no , no , no!” You hollered repeatedly to yourself . You brought your eyes to a close once again then opened them, praying for a new result. You stumbled backward, hitting the wall . In full panic mode , you sunk down onto the bathroom floor .
-
On the other side of town, Erik stood naked in front of your floor length mirror . Rubbing his hands across his newly discovered breast . Unlike you, he seemed to enjoy his new found body . He laughed “This shit is fucking crazy!” Bringing his palm to his mouth in disbelief, even his voice was yours . “Yooooooooooo” he felt along his plump ass, squeezing it tight .
“My girl need a wax though , it’s like a jungle down here” he felt along his pubic hair and laughed again .
Your phone rang, he walked over to the dresser to answer it . The words “Baby” flashed across the screen. He instantly became upset , thinking another man was calling you . He answered angrily . “Who the fuck is this!?”
“Who am I? Baby is this you!?” You yelled over the phone. All he could hear through his clueless ears was a mans voice .
“Why you calling my girls phone?”
“Baby it’s me ! Are you me!”
Erik threw his head back, embarrassed at his actions . He had just realized that “Baby” was him. You realized that he didn’t know either .
“Erik you so stupid, sometimes I don’t even know why I bother”
“Stupid?” You could hear the argument boiling from within him .
“I don’t want to argue , I’m sorry. Erik what is going on. I’m freaking out right now”
“I don’t know “
“Baby what if we are stuck like this forever !” You panicked . “I don’t want this, how do we change back!”
Erik listened to you rant for a little longer, he knew he couldn’t get a word in once you were like this . He was just as scared as you , but he knew panicking wasn’t going to solve anything .
“Look babe, we can’t just go to the doctor , they will put us in the crazy house” Erik told you , after you made the suggestion of going to the hospital .
“What do you think we should do?” You asked as if he would have a logical answer.
“We should just go on about our regular day . Ima’ figure something out “
You started to cry... like Erik. You knew Erik didn’t know what to do . He always told you he would “figure something out” when he didn’t know. Eriks face became stale, through the phone your cry made him cringe.
“Stop that big ass man cry!” He pleaded.
“Stop making me cry then!” You wined.
“Wow, is that how I sound when I cry?”
“I don’t know, you don’t cry a lot” you sniffed a little.
“I’m promise you, I’ll figure this out”
“You swear?”
“For us, I swear”
—-
Should I post the rest? Or let it die before I start lol.
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I found a WIP post about 11x07 in the depths of my laptop, I’ll copy&paste it here so I won’t feel bad about deleting the file :p
Have a look if you want to be astral projected back into November 2015, I guess?
Man on TV: This is their second drive in overtime, with both teams having possessed the ball. The next score wins.
This is their second round at the Apocalypse, this time in the era after the Kripke one.
Both teams have had sexual relations with Dean Winchester.
The next person that will get Dean’s heart will win him. There will be Amara trying to get Dean, but the person that will “score” is Cas, clearly. Also see the double meaning of score *sly face*.
Man: Every play becomes…
What’s the endgame?
Oh!
[ Sighs ]
We aren’t going to get the endgame any soon. (well, it’s called endgame for a reason.)
Man: 1st and 10 from the 32-yard line. 8:21 in O.T…
I don’t know how this game works lol so I don't know if there’s some specific meaning to this line. What I know is that 1 - 10 - 3 - 2: either 1x10 Asylum and 3x02 The Kids Are Alright, or 1x03 Dead In Water and 10x02 Reichenbach. In the first case, we’re talking about an episode where Dean and Sam aren’t “alright”, they are not in a good moment of their relationship, and well, literally an episode called “the kids aren't alright’, aka Dean and Sam have something wrong with them right now. In the second case, we have two episodes dealing with death, water (sea/ocean symbology?) and falling (or better, jumping yourself) and corruption of soul.
8x21 is The Great Escapist. Dean is escaping, he’s playing dead like a possum, he’s telling Sam to just ignore the visions and do nothing, he’s the one fear makes do nothing. But it’s over the time to do nothing, it’s too late, they’re in too deep. (“What do you wanna do? Sit back? Ignore him? Do nothing?” “No, that's — that's not what I'm saying.” aka yes, that’s what he’s saying…)
Stan! Can you take out the trash?
Winchester brothers! Can you take the toxic elements out of your relationship and your lives?
[ Sighs ]
He is running left. Ohh! He gets…
Dean is running to the devil’s side, aka the gay side! Ohh! He gets [angel cake *cough*]
Stinks to high heaven.
Speaking of angel cake, he’s not really an angel anymore, because he doesn’t belong to heaven. Heaven stinks.
[ Lowered voice ] It's your cooking that stinks.
No Castiel, it’s your Dean Winchester that is just a mud monkey.
[ Dish thuds ] What was that, honey?
What did you say about Dean? *goes in ‘flower meme’ mode*
Nothing, dear.
Ehm, nothing, nothing, Castiel. *sweats nervously*
2nd and…
Who’s on second? What is second?
The game's in O.T., can't it wait?
We’re already in season 11, but the endgame still isn't close. We’re getting at least a season 12 I guess.
...backs him into center, slowly defends...
Dean is backing to the center, he tries to defend himself, but the “defensive center” is the clear area at the center of the smoke.
[ Speaks indistinctly ] [ Sighs ] [ Grunting ] [ Crowd cheering ] [ Groans ] [ Men speaking indistinctly ] [ Door creaks ] [ Men continue speaking indistinctly ] [ Door creaks ] [ Rattling and clinking ] [ Lid bangs ] [ Dog barking in distance ] [ Rattling and clinking ] [ Door creaks open ]
Hey, hon, bring me another brewski.
Rude. Cas goes getting the brewskis himself.
[ Door closes ] [ Refrigerator door opens, bottles clink ] [ Refrigerator door closes ]
He's flushed out of the pocket.
I don’t know what this means lol. Is it something about getting sent out from the field or something? Is it Cas, that is now currently away from the bunker, or Dean, who’s “flushing” himself out of the battlefield?
Hey, thanks, babe.
Who brings you a brewski is you babe.
He's got a man open…
Cas has made Dean open up. It’s also a pun about stabbing the guy, I know, which is also a pun for ～stabbing a guy～… I mean, I guess “get a man open” has different meanings…)
[ Gasps ]
Throws… And it's caught by… [ Cheering, whistle blows ]
Dean throws himself to damnation, but he gets caught by Cas — every time.
[ Glass shatters ]
Uhh! Don't need possum traps, huh?
The possum is Dean, and apparently someone believes there’s no need to trap him, although the lady thinks so. The lady is Dean here I guess, the one that takes out the trash, albeit reluctantly, but who doesn’t trust himself and prefers to “do nothing”, keep himself in check, “trap” himself in a corner. Or the lady is Sam, trying to take out the trash, but who deep down doesn’t trust Dean, thinks he should be kept in check, or will think Dean should be kept in check after he finds out about his “bond” with Amara.
[ Lid bangs, glass clinks ] [ Screaming ] [ Squishing ] [ Groaning ] [ Screams ]
————
So, uh… on the off chance that you're actually listening, uh… Uh, I gotta be real honest. The visions aren't making a whole lot of sense to me. Truth is… I don't know what's what. Please. [ Exhales sharply ] What are you trying to say? [ Exhales ]
I don’t know you, but I find this hilarious. “Send me a message please” *gets incomprehensible message* “What the fuck god”
Really? I mean, really?
I think Dean is scared of Sam contacting God. God is the John Winchester on a macroscopic level, and he makes Dean uneasy. When you need his help, he doesn’t show. You’re dying and you call him for help, he doesn’t show, and you have to save your life yourself. You’re upset and afraid and he doesn’t even drop a word, and you have to face your fears alone. Dean feels abandoned and betrayed by God just like he felt abandoned and betrayed by John, except John did show up now and then and upset Dean, while God never shows up and that allows Dean to talk badly of him, because he feels safe to do so. He didn’t feel safe criticizing John, of course, because John might have been absent when Dean would need his help, but he’d always be present when it came to mistreat Dean. And Dean is afraid that if God shows up, it’ll be the same — God will punish him, humiliate him, force him to be someone else than he really is and do something he doesn’t really want to do.
You ever hear of privacy?
Sam feels more and more suffocated by Dean’s presence. He feels like the bunker is too small for the two of them, so to speak. He’s always lived in a car or in motel rooms with no privacy at all, now he’s been dangled the piece of meat in front of his face, and now he’s gotten… fond of privacy. He’s been craving privacy for his whole life, and now that he can have it, he’s quite “possessive” of it.
Hey, you want privacy, close your door.
@domlerrys and I laughed at this because we’d just commented the same thing right before Dean said it himself.
It’s not a good thing for their relationship in the short term, but a good thing in the long term. Closing the door means isolating yourself from the other, which is not a good thing to do now that they’re neck deep in huge problems (both external and of communication between the two of them), but it’ll be a good thing eventually because they need to stop being “conjoined twins” and live their own autonomous lives.
Thought we talked about this.
Dean, you talked to Sam about this. Sam has no intention of believing you, and will continue believing the visions are coming from God… until it’ll be too late and he’ll pay the price of his ingenuity.
Yeah, we did, Dean. But why is it so hard to believe that God could be sending me visions about the darkness?
Because the visions are not about the Darkness in the slightest and you know it, dumbass. But at the end of the episode Sam admits it to Dean — the visions are about the Cage, not the Darkness.
You kidding me? He didn't feel the need to show up for the Apocalypse. Why would he give a crap now?
“Dad didn’t show up when we were working that case in Lawrence, he didn’t show up when I was dying of heart failure, he didn’t show up so many times when we needed him. God is the same, Sammy. I know a thing or two about absent fathers.”
There’s also a Destiel element — Dean feels strongly that God is like John because he and Cas first bonded deeply over absent fathers, thus the connection between their fathers that has formed in Dean’s mind.
I don't know. Maybe because she's his sister? What do you wanna do? Sit back? Ignore him? Do nothing?
Well, that’s exactly what Dean is doing. The episode later tells us that it’s because fear is paralyzing him, but I think it’s not just about that. Dean has a keen sense of self-preservation — apparently that happens when you’re abused as a kid — and it only looks like he hasn’t because he fights against them because he cares too much about others and always puts others first. The first episodes of season 10 showed this quite clearly — when he was a demon and he didn’t care about others, his self-preservation instincts ran free and he even tried to kill Sam to protect himself from getting pulled into the “family business” again.
No, that's — that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying, don't count on God. Okay? Count on us.
I suspect Dean is highly right here…
Right. Oh, this is everything Cas dug up in Gaza, every last bit of pre-biblical lore.
“Where do we put Cas now that the brothers are in the bunker? We can’t stick him in front of the tv set, because if Dean is present he doesn’t stare at a screen, he stares at Dean.” “Let’s have him help from outside of the bunker.” “Why would he? The lore is inside the bunker.” “Then let’s have him seek out further lore… directly from the source!” It makes sense. And it is useful to explain why Cas isn't around for more than one episode — he’s traveling the world doing research. And since he doesn’t have functioning wings, he can’t just make a quick detour like he did to Jerusalem in Free to Be You and Me. He needs to take planes. I believe there’s no doubt about it, he’s traveling human-style.
Hmm.
Half of it I couldn't read. It's in Aramaic. And the other half… [ Cell phone rings ] Nada. [ Ring ] Not a single mention of the darkness, so… [ Ring ]
Miscommunication happens because Sam and Dean are speaking different languages, metaphorically speaking. And even when they speak the same language… still nada, like when Sam confesses the visions are about the Cage — Dean shuts him off because he’s too scared to deal with what Sam has just told him.
Well, I'll be damned. [ Cell phone beeps ] Huh? Donna, what's shakin’?
[ Lowered voice ] Fat sucker Donna?
Dean is much closer to Donna than Sam is, although Dean hasn’t really spent more time with her than Sam has. But Dean has connected with her deeply, while Sam hasn’t, because Donna is female Dean, pretty much.
What do you mean “Killer bunny”?
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