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annisassintchaska · 1 year ago

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Jealousy: Toto Wolff x Black! Reader ft. Christian Horner

TW: Violence, Cursing

In the Formula 1 paddock, Toto had been known for working mostly alone, not asking for help unless it was a last option. So imagine the look on the media and other faces when he was spotted walking in next to a beautifully short, black haired woman as he appeared to be listening to her rant from notes on her IPad. At this point the whole paddock of drivers and a few Team Principals went into chaos trying to get to know her in a personal way yet they remained unsuccessful as Toto kept her locked away in his office.

For weeks on end, the paddock watched them arrive and disappear behind the walls of the garage only to be seen when it was time to leave. The men were going out of their minds trying to find some way to get the woman alone but it was very unfortunate that she could never even be found.

Today was scheduled to be Media day where all the drivers were packed into one room to be ‘interrogated’. “So Lewis and George. I’m sure you both already know the question I have in mind. Toto has been spotted recently with a beautiful girl who we supposed works with you all. Do you by any chance have any tea to spill with us? Even a little would be fine?” A female reporter asked eagerly causing the two Mercedes drivers to laugh. “Yeah, Y/n, she’s Toto’s personal assistant. She’s been working with him for about one and a half years now; However Toto keeps her hidden from everyone. We think he’s in love with her but he denies it and for that we gave her the nickname ‘Lady Wolff’” Lewis explained causing excitement among the other drivers.

A couple days later, Toto had Y/n enter through the back while he came through the front, only to be met by Christian himself. “Forger Wolff, nice to see you. Haven’t you seen my emails asking for your assistance number or even her email?” He asked suggestively. “And I responded saying that you should let it go because she’s uninterested in seeing or hearing from you?” Toto responded perplexed. “Can’t you just please give it a rest?” Toto asked irritated at the shorter man. “Oh c’mon Toto, that’s not fair! It’s not nice to gatekeeper and not share! And besides, maybe she would prefer a guy with a wining team and man who knows how to build and upgrade a perfect car” Christian whined and taunted which led to the furious reaction from the taller man.

Toto became infuriated as he grabbed Christian by his throat, pulling him up into the air with one arm as he held him up against the wall choking him out, while his other hand held his file bag.

“Now you listen to me Horner, I know what you’re intentions are and frankly I don’t care, but if I ever hear of or see you anywhere near my assistant, I will tear you apart piece by piece down to your very last fucking atom. Do you understand me?!” Tot asked angrily making the British native nod rapidly begging silently for release.

The cameras had caught everything with audio and Y/n had to be called out to the scene where she screamed in panic. “Toto, you can’t do that. You’re going to kill him!” She yelled out at her boss, seeing he victim turning purple in the face. “Let him go and come inside m, are you insane?! You’re twice his size, you can’t be doing this you giant!” Y/n yelled while prying her boss’ hand away from his opponent who started coughing wildly as soon as he was freed. Everyone watched on in amazement as the 5’2 woman dragged her giant of a boss away from the scene and pushed him into the office before entering and closing the door. Continuing forward everyone went back to work.

In the office, Y/n messaged her boss’ shoulders in an attempt to calm him down as he grumbled on about the fight until she decided to advise him. “Mr. Wolff you don’t have to be this upset. You should just try to ignore him” The brown-eyed woman stated as she his mood.

“That’s the thing schatz, I can’t ignore him when he’s inquiring to make advances towards anything that I already claimed!” Toto yelled as he got up, pacing the room. “What?” Y/n asked, confused as to how she was mixed in with something he ‘claimed’. “Y/n…I know this might come as a shock to you, but I’ve been in love with you for a while now. I just didn’t know how to say it and then he came along and made suggestions towards you so I got angry. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you”. Toto explained shyly while blushing from being under the young woman’s gaze.

Y/n smiled as she got up from her chair and walked towards her boss, pulling him down into an earth-shattering kiss that turned into a make out session. She pulled away from the kiss giggling cutely while Toto blushed, feeling like a school boy when Y/n said “I’m in love with you too”.

#toto wolff #toto wolff imagine #Toto Wolff angst #toto wolff x you #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff x y/n

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headheartbellarke · 4 years ago

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HOME | Charlie Gillespie

Requested by anon: "Hi! If request are open can you do a charlie imagine where him and the reader (she/her) met on a project a while back and have been friends for a while, but the reader kinda had a crappy home life so she gets overwhelmed by charlies family being so loving and perfect and she basically breaks down and feels like she doesn’t fit in and isn’t good enough for him? please and thank you so much, ur writing is amazing!!!"

PAIRING(s): Charlie Gillespie x fem! reader

WARNING(s): mentions of abuse, trauma, anxiety, angst, fluff

WORDS: 2,036

SUMMARY: charlie takes co-star and girlfriend y/n home for christmas but that leads to self doubt in her (im so bad at these) [note: this takes place in 2021]

As Charlie pulls out the key from the ignition, I sigh, wringing my hands nervously. He unbuckles his seatbelt and faces me, giving me a bright, happy smile.

“My family is so excited to meet you.” He says, reaching forward to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

“What if they hate me?” I whisper.

My boyfriend, Charlie, and I first met on the set of Charmed – we were both in the first episode, but I left it after that due to scheduling conflicts with my other show, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina. I had been a part of CAOS since its first episode – I played the role of Sabrina’s cousin, Sarah Spellman.

Back then, we were just friends. After I left Charmed, we would text and call each other occasionally. Whenever we were in the same city, we would meet up – but that was hard considering we both had quite different lives. So, we didn’t think of each other as more than friends – sure I thought that he was attractive, but that’s it.

But, in 2020, after CAOS was cancelled, I got a call from the casting director of Julie and The Phantoms: she was the one who had previously cast me in CAOS, and she believed that I’d be perfect for the role of Julie’s British cousin who joins her school after her parents relocate to LA – I also play Reggie’s love interest.

I texted Charlie immediately after my manager finalized all the details for the new role. He had been excited and when shooting started in 2021, we were pretty inseparable.

After a few weeks, I had developed a major crush on him ad the rest of the cast had also picked up on that. They were also convinced that Charlie liked me (which I didn’t believe at that time but later found out that it was, indeed, true) and they used to tease us about it all the time. Finally, a couple weeks before production ended, he asked me out on a date and it’s been really, really great so far.

We’ve been dating for about nine months now and honestly, he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He’s my home – all my life I’ve always felt lost, but I feel like I truly belong with him.

Now, he laughs. “Baby. I promise you – they already love you. My mother’s been bugging me to bring you home ever since we started dating, and you’ve already met Megan, and she loves you.”

“If you say so.” I say, still not convinced.

He grins and we get out of his car and face his childhood home. I take a deep breath, shaking off my nerves. He knocks three times on the front door, and it opens immediately after.

A petite, blonde woman steps out, with a wide smile on her face. She opens her arms as Charlie yells, “Mamacita!”

“Mon chéri. Ça fait trop longtemps!”

“Je vous ai manqué!”

I have absolutely no idea what they are saying, but the scene in front of me is so heart-warming. Charlie’s mother is genuinely happy to see her son – one can tell by the way she’s holding him, almost like he’s a little child. Charlie is quite a couple inches taller than her, but he’s nestled his face into her shoulder.

I can’t stop a grin from breaking out on my face. It’s honestly rather lovely. But I also feel a slight pang in my heart knowing that no one ever greets me like this when I go home.

They separate from each other and she squeezes his shoulders, looking at him with so much love that I have to look away. I have never seen a mother look at their child like that, with such intense love. That’s dumb, I know. Mothers are supposed to love their children. But all my mother ever looks at me with is disappointment, anger, disgust, and – you get it.

She notices me next and claps her hands. “You must be Y/N!”

“Hi, Mrs. Gillespie. It’s so nice to meet you!” I extend a hand toward her.

“Aw, come here! You’re gorgeous.”

She pulls me in for a hug too, and for a moment I’m engulfed by the smell of white musk and the feeling of warmth.

We pull apart and I smile at her, genuinely. All my anxiety has washed away.

“My son is always talking about you, about how pretty you are and –”

“Let’s go inside!” Charlie quickly cuts her off, eyes widened as I laugh.

“But I wanna know what he says!”

Mrs Gillespie winks at me as Charlie turns scarlet. “I’ll tell you when he’s gone.”

***

Another roar of laughter erupts around the dinner table.

Honestly, I’ve never seen a family like this – a family so connected, so loving. All of Charlie’s siblings – from his three older brothers to his little sister are here for Christmas Eve, and all of them are teasing each other, telling childhood stories, and just having the best time. I was, too. That was until I suddenly realized how I don’t fit in here.

Everyone here grew up completely different than I did. When I was young, about two years old – my dad left my mom and I for another woman. I haven’t seen him since – although, he sends me a postcard and some money on holidays and birthdays. He’s travelling around the world with his new wife and is apparently ‘happier than he’s ever been.’

The reason he left is because kids ‘freak’ him out and he isn’t ‘ready’ for that kind of responsibility. I mean, it wasn’t like he was fifteen when he had me: he was twenty-seven, and already married to my mother for about two years then.

Naturally, my mother blames me for her divorce. I was born out of an accidental pregnancy, so my mother made sure to remind me every day that I was unwanted, and my birth was what ‘pushed’ him to leave us. Every single day, my mother told me that I shouldn’t have been born, that I was a mistake, that I was worthless, unlovable and so, so many more horrible things. She used to drink like crazy, and if I accidentally faced her in that state, she would sometimes hit me.

Years and years of abuse and all that childhood trauma led me to develop a fear of abandonment, trust issues, intimacy issues, anxiety, and depression. Throughout school, I had been closed off, unable to form relationships and friendships with other people. I had feared anything and everything – I couldn’t even maintain eye contact with people.

Of course, when I auditioned for CAOS and moved away to LA, away from that toxic environment, I got help and turned my life around. (My mother was incredibly happy to see me go since she had married another guy and now has a family with him – so I was the only thing left that reminded her of my father.) I learnt to accept, prioritize, and love myself – but I’m still working on that, of course.

But, I know, deep down, no matter how well I am, or how happy I am – there will always be a part of me that’s broken. I’ve grown to accept that, accept the fact that I’ll always carry the trauma with me.

But Charlie doesn’t. He’s lived a good life, and he deserves someone who can give him their everything – and that’s not me.

As much as I hate to say it, I’m not good enough for him.

He senses a change in my demeanour and squeezes my hand under the table. I give him a weak smile.

***

“Y/N/N, what’s wrong?”

I look up at my boyfriend. He has a look of concern on his face as he takes a seat next to me on the couch.

I sigh into the quiet. Everyone has fallen asleep, except Charlie and I – we are seated in his living room in front of the fireplace.

“Nothing. I’m just really tired.”

“That’s not true, Y/N. You were fine throughout dinner – oh my god, it’s the ice cream, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“The pistachio ice cream that Maman made. It was weirdly bitter, eh? It’s okay, you can tell me.”

I purse my lips. “No, Charlie. The ice cream was great.”

“Are you sure? You’ve been down since desert.”

“It’s not the ice cream, babe.”

“Okay, then, what is it?”

He looks at me expectantly, and I can sense that he’s feeling anxious.

“I just – I realized that I don’t fit in.”

He furrows his brows, but before he can say anything, I start speaking again. “Charlie, you have such a loving and perfect family. And you know how I grew up. What I went through. So, you know that I’m not used to this. I’m not – I’ve never seen love like this in a family, you know. And I don’t fit in here! While your mother was being so nice to me, I kept wondering when she’s going to scream at me. Or when your father was genuinely interested in me, I kept thinking that maybe he’s trying to find a way to get rid of me. It’s just – it’s just the way I grew up, and I’ll always be like this, Char. Your family is so nice, and it shocks me, honestly. And I think that maybe it’s better if you date someone who grew up the way you did, someone who’s like you. Because I have been broken my whole life, and I don’t think that I can give you everything that you need. I don’t think I’m good enough for you. You’re the best person that I’ve ever met, and I think you should be with someone who’s worthy of you.”

I whisper the last part, and feel a teardrop fall into the space between my collarbones. I look down because I’m too afraid of what he might say.

I hear him breathe out heavily and I feel him take my hands in his.

“Don’t you ever say that.”

“But it’s true –”

“Y/N. Don’t you dare doubt yourself. You are good enough. No, you’re perfect. You’re the strongest woman I know. I completely understand why you feel what you’re feeling right now.”

He scoots closer to me and cups my cheeks in his hands. “And it’s okay. It’s okay to feel that way. It’s okay to feel shocked. That doesn’t make you a bad person, nor does it make you not good enough. In fact, it makes all the stronger – you went through so much as a kid, and still, you have space in your heart for me. You know, I never doubt the fact that you love me, ever. Because you always make me feel special, make me feel good about myself and always make sure that I’m happy. You always go out of your way to take care of me, and you always make me feel at home. I don’t want anyone other than you. I love you so much and I never, ever wanna lose you.”

I think I’m fully crying now, as Charlie continues, “It’s okay to feel that way. Take your time. But I’m never leaving you. You’re my person, and you’ll always fit in with me, baby. Always.”

“Charlie…”

I look at him properly, and I can see the pain in his eyes as a tear traces along the curve of his cheek. He sniffs, saying, “I’m sorry. I just can’t imagine being with anyone other than you.”

“Why are you so good to me?” I whisper, my throat still tight from the emotions.

“Because you deserve someone good, and I can only hope that I’m good for you.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face in his shoulder as a sob escapes my body. “I’m so sorry, baby. So, so sorry.” I keep whispering that, while he rubs my back, saying ‘it’s okay.’

“I love you so much, Charlie. Honestly, thanks for being so good to me. You have no idea what you mean to me.”

I can feel him smile as he says, “I think I have a pretty good idea, yeah.”

***

jatp requests are open <3

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thanksjro · 4 years ago

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More Than Meets the Eye #31 - Ammo and the Anti-Glowup

So, the Lost Light disappeared, stranding all the crew in space in their little escape pods. 200-some robots just lost their homes and worldly possessions. That’s absolutely horrible. What a devastating thing to happen.

Anyway, here’s Drift with a flashback sequence.

No hips, fingers all the exact same length, hockey pucks embedded in his forearms- Rojo, this is a crime you’ve committed. When will the long arm of the law stop your sinful, pancake-shaped hands?

About two years prior to current events, Drift, Riptide, and Pipes- yes, Pipes!- were wandering around trying to find a ship for the space yacht trip. The gang’s here to see who owns the big honkin’ ship outside. Problem is, Drift is unintentionally terrifying because he has a great deal of swords.

Now, you may say to yourself “isn’t it a bit odd that the species that has members who literally turn into guns would be nervous around a guy with swords?” This is a valid critique, until you remember that at least some of the folks who turn into guns were born that way, and Drift was very much NOT born bladed the fuck out. There’s an entire miniseries devoted to explaining this, it’s called Drift. The swords are a choice, one that he makes every day.

Drift is willing to pay an honestly absurd amount of money for the ship, if he can just find the dude with the paperwork- don’t ask where he got the money. Pipes isn’t being terribly helpful in finding them, so Riptide decides that now is the time to start practicing being proactive and pulls a Coyote Ugly.

No, no, he doesn’t.

He does climb up on a table and start yelling for the ship’s owners to reveal themselves, though. Which they do.

Now it’s time for the world-building portion of our comic issue. Let’s learn about chirolinguistics.

Drift, staying true to his Mary Sue nature, uses his near-perfect Hand skills to strike up a deal with the owners of the ship. This would be impressive, if it didn’t just look like the most convoluted hand-holding session in the friggin’ universe.

Still, Drift is rich enough to make Jeff Bezos weep with envy, so the arrangements are made and the lads go on their way, talking some mad shit about the original name of the ship as they do.

So it is revealed to us that the Lost Light is named after a festival for honoring the dead and disappeared, which makes the fact that Rewind and Chromedome were there all the more sad.

Back in the present, Megatron tells Riptide to shut up so they can figure out what the hell they’re going to do about this whole “our home and also ride has ceased to exist” situation. He’s putting an awful lot of distance between himself and the rest of the Autobots as he does it, something that isn’t lost on the more bitter people of the crowd.

But why were we even talking about the Lost Light in the first place? Not to reminisce, believe it or not. See, it’s time for Nautica to get a little panel time, and she’s going to use it to be a massive fucking nerd and explain how the quantum engines work. As she does, Ratchet notes that his hands feel funny. Must be the weight of his hand-stealing sins manifesting itself in his joints.

Nautica explains that the engines run off of improbability- it is highly unlikely, but not impossible, that the ship can reach light speed, and riding the fine line between what can happen and what can’t, results in the creation of power for the engines. If this sounds familiar, it’s because Brainstorm gave us a watered down version of this explanation back in issue #2. If it sounds familiar for a different reason, it’s because this is how the Heart of Gold runs in Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Again, I’m not sure why it is that the British love this concept so much, but there you are.

Oh, it appears someone has a question. Let’s see what they want to know about, shall we?

…Rojo, what the fuck is this.

Our muppety friend here isn’t too keen on how much of a smarmy asshole Nightbeat is being right now, though I’d assume it actually has something to do with the fact that Nightbeat got smacked around with the pretty-boy stick while Getaway very much did not. While the two bicker- there’s a lot of bickering in Season Two- Nautica presents a theory on what happened to the ship; it went too far in the direction of “can’t” and made itself cease to be.

Megatron gives not a shit about quantum improbability, though. He only cares about how they’re going to get out of this mess. Which, y’know. Valid.

Blaster picks up a radio from Rodimus, who tells the gang that they’re to meet up on a nearby planet to regroup and figure out their next move. The call drops before he can get more than a couple Megatron-directed insults in, however. Megatron, in response, tries to be the bigger person, and almost immediately fails. We do get a headcount though, which is good, logistically speaking. This information is communicated to us by way of a splash page full of character head shots. We’ve got 20 ‘bots on board this ship.

Yep. 20. No more, no less.

As our friends approach the planet, we’re informed that it’s actually a Lectureworld- a planet devoted to the study of a single field. Except it’s actually a Smartplanet now, and it’s been privatized by the Galactic Council, so you’ve got to pay to go there. Cyclonus thinks that that’s bullshit, and I can’t help but agree. Crosscut tries to network with they guy about his play, probably because word got around that Cyclonus is rich as hell, when the lights cut out. When they come back on, Crosscut is nowhere to be found.

It’s time for a Whodunnit.

Tailgate immediately pegs Megatron as the culprit in this disappearance, and breaks out a gun over the matter. Megatron thinks that this is absolutely adorable, which only serves to further infuriate our marshmallow friend. I guess he’s still mad about the whole “I was a Decepticon for five minutes and got brainwashed over it” thing, and wants someone to pin the anger on who’s socially acceptable to hate.

Cyclonus and Ratchet both think that Tailgate’s not going about this the right way, but the guy is simply too het up to listen to them. Tailgate suggests that they lock Megatron in the engine room for the time being and-

OKAY WHO LET HIM HAVE THAT

Riptide breaks out his gun, and soon we’ve got a standoff going between the three of them. Cyclonus tries to deescalate, which makes Gears and Huffer break out their guns. Then Hound breaks out his gun, though he seems to be doing his own thing, by pointing it in Nautica’s direction.

Broski, I think that might be animal cruelty.

Megatron manages to shoot Ravage “unconscious” and catches him by the friggin’ throat, stating that he has zero idea how this guy got here. With the heat off the two of them for a moment, Megatron communicates to Ravage to play ‘possum for the time being. Ravage responds, and I wonder exactly how he’s doing that, considering I don’t think he has enough fingers to effectively utilize Hand as a language. Or fingers at all, really.

While this is going on, Cyclonus snatches the gun out of Tailgate’s hand, admonishing him for being reckless about picking his fights. Generally speaking, you don’t want to try to go toe-to-toe with a guy who’s responsible for the deaths of literal billions. Getaway swoops in to comfort Tailgate, calling him gutsy. I wonder if this will become a trend.

Swerve says a thing, as he is wont to do, and it’s made known that multiple folks have disappeared during this incredibly brief standoff.

Wow, Chromedome just fucked off, huh? He wasn’t even in that sequence, just left.

Everyone’s positively baffled by the current happenings. There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to who’s being taken. I guess we’ve got a mystery on our hands.

And who better to solve a mystery than a detective?

Nightbeat wrangles all the leftover folks into a corner of the room, so they can figure out what the common denominator is with all the disappearees. He starts with the easy stuff.

And by “easy”, I mean the super-special racism Tyrest subscribed to.

If you’ve read Eugenesis, you know that Nightbeat was also part of the first wave of cold-constructed bodies there. However, the general populace wasn’t nearly as chill about it as they were in IDW. Also, Wheeljack was his dad. No word on if that particular tidbit made it into IDW lore.

It’s at this point that we learn about M.T.O.s- made to order soldiers. They were cold-constructed ‘bots created en masse during the war in order to keep up with the demands for troops. Pretty fucked up, if you think about it, being born to die like that.

Now where have we heard that name before…

Chromedome, can your love life not be part of the plot for five minutes, my guy?

Nautica makes the honestly horrific claim that a lot of folks owe their existence to Megatron being a warmongering fuck, and even Megatron himself seems rather uncomfortable with the idea. Some thoughts we keep to ourselves, Nautica, even if they might be technically true. And even if Ammo wants to tack on his two cents on the matter.

What did they DO to you, Ammo? You’re supposed to be hot! Where are my three-paragraphs of description as Hound stares slack jawed the entire time? I miss Polyhex Wars.

Anyway, it’s Megatron’s turn to get poked with the questioning stick, and he’s not having it. He claims that by revealing his mode of creation, he’s risking a repeat of Functionist ideology. This would be valid, if people weren’t literally disappearing without any sort of explanation as to why. As it is, he’s being a stubborn asshole, but I guess he didn’t get his reputation by being a decent person who knew when to back down, now did he?

It’s at this point that Ratchet remembers he knows all the info Nightbeat’s looking for, and the conversation on Megatron’s birth is shelved for another day. I’m sure it won’t be a major plot point later, not in the slightest.

As it turns out, Nightbeat’s theory doesn’t hold water, and folks are still popping out of existence. We get another splash page, this time with everyone’s mode of creation listed under their names, and we move on to other theories about what the fuck is going on. While Nightbeat has a minor crisis over what the answer could possibly be, the MTOs in the group reminisce on the Ten-Step Program, a series of tests they were put through to make sure they worked well enough to get handed a gun and shoved out the door. Riptide wasn’t a fan.

Riptide has more wood panelling than a 70’s-style ranch house, and I think that’s very brave of him.

It’s at this point that Ratchet remembers it’s been quite a bit since he last shat on religion, and takes the time to do so while informing the reader about Information Creep. This is a concept we’ve seen mentioned previously, during Chromedome’s runaround in Overlord’s brain, but it’s here where we get the juicy implications.

Because memories can become corrupted in the brain due to extreme age, what ought to be objective fact has to be reinterpreted due to missing pieces. This is why nobody knows what the Knights of Cybertron got up to, or if they’re even actually real at all.

The lights go out again, and when they cut back on, Cyclonus is missing, leaving only his sword behind. Tailgate is extremely distraught by this, but Nightbeat gives not a fuck about Tailgate’s impending breakdown. He only cares about the truth!

And then a giant eyeball shows up.

It’s Ultra Magnus, coming to us live from his shuttle, via holomatter avatar! He shrinks down to a far more reasonable size, in a panel reminiscent of the first time IDW readers saw Megatron.

Don’t get me wrong, this is a neat parallel, I’m just… not terribly sure why it’s happening. One could say it reflects a reversal in power dynamics, but that theory gets tossed out the window when you remember that this isn’t actually Verity. I suppose it’s just a cool little thing.

Because the comms aren’t working, Ultra Magnus has been forced to use this avatar to communicate with the folks in the Rod Pod. Megatron asks just what the hell is going on, but unfortunately Magnus isn’t sure either. Then his shuttle disappears, and it’s bye-bye grunge girl Magnus.

It’s at this point that Nightbeat decides it’s time to stop pussyfooting around and get serious. He tells Ratchet to throw HIPPA directly in the garbage and write down everything he knows about the Autobots who crewed the Lost Light. And he does mean everything, as we get the splash page again, this time with lots of neat info on our friends, including spark type.

Spark types will become plot-relevant in the storyline after this, but for now let’s focus on some weird gender essentialism that got slapped into the first print of this issue.

As we know very well by this point, Transformers as a franchise has a tumultuous relationship with the idea of women existing. You would think that the awkward introduction of other genders we got in “Dark Cybertron” would have been the end of things being weird in IDW. However, you would be wrong.

In an effort to explain why genders exist, Roberts had the idea to make it spark-based. Nautica, in the solo print of this issue, has an estriol-positive spark. Estriol is a type of estrogen, which is the hormone that develops and maintains feminine secondary sex characteristics, when present in certain levels, in conjunction with other hormones. Biology

This “spark = gender” idea is, generally speaking, not a great idea to be presenting us with, especially when the writer is a cishet male, because it implies biological essentialism- the idea that a personality trait/quality of a person is innate and predetermined by their biology, as opposed to social, cultural, or individual experiences. Because this story doesn’t exist in a vacuum, it’s irresponsible to reduce the experience of being a woman to a single, physical, unchangable asset, especially when all other assets of the same class have zero effect on one’s gender identity. You don’t exactly see many nonbinary robots running around, now do you? And there are definitely more than two spark types, despite the Transformers as a species being... very binary.

It also makes female Transformers into an “other”, which is a problem that has existed from the very start of the franchise, in some form or fashion, and really doesn’t need to be perpetrated anymore than it already is.

The estriol spark type was removed in the trade edition, and Roberts has expressed regrets over its inclusion, having realized that it was potentially offensive.

Getting back to the story, Swerve, Tailgate, and Ratchet have disappeared, though Ratchet seems to have left his hands behind. His stolen, Pharma-original hands.

That’s still fucked up to me. I don’t think it’ll ever not be fucked up.

Riptide reveals the reason that he wasn’t in Season One of MTMTE was because when he went back to grab a receipt for the ship two years prior, he’d discovered that the original owners were worshipers of Mortilus, Cybertronian god of death, and knew about the nasty little problem that was the sparkeater from the first storyline. When Riptide went to confront them about it, they beat him up so bad he was unconscious for two solid days.

Which is a long-ass time to be unconscious. That might have been a coma, Riptide. Jesus, I hope someone got him to a hospital after this beatdown happened, or at least scraped him off the floor.

With this last piece of the puzzle, we finally have the common denominator in this big ol’ mystery. Everyone who disappeared was on the Lost Light when it took off from Cybertron in issue #1, and everyone left behind- Skids, Getaway, Nightbeat, Nautica, Megatron, and Ravage- didn’t join until afterwords.

Of course, having the answer doesn’t do us much good when everyone is still missing, and Megatron seems to agree with me, because he’s about to throw hands, when Nautica lets them know that they’ve arrived at the rendezvous. Problem is, so has something else.

...

I’m sure it’s fiiiiiiiiiiiiine!

#transformers #jro #MTMTE #issue 31 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #incoming analysis #overthinking about robots #comic script writing

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fanfic-corner · 3 years ago

Text

Tumblrversary - 21st June 2021

It's official: I've been on this cursed site as this blog for a full year now. I'm not sure what exactly I've gained from the experience, other than more new friends than I can count and whatever the fuck November 5th had going on. Anyway, this is every single thing (of note) I've posted this year for you to peruse at your leisure, but mostly so my dumb ass can find it later :)

Destiel fic recs

My all time favourites

Alternate Universes

Apocalypse/Dystopia AU

Cafe AU

College/Uni AU

Soulmate AU / pt 2

Word Count

Under 2,000 words

Under 10,000 words / pt 2

Episode Specific Fics

15x18 Fics

15x19 Fics

15x20 Fics

Other Ships

Sabriel

Holidays

Halloween

Christmas / pt 2

New Year's

Sexualities

Asexuality and other a-spec identities

Bisexual Dean

Tropes

Bed Sharing

Case Fics

Established Relationship

Major Character Death

Slow Burn

John Winchester is an Asshole

Writer!Castiel

Wattpad

Fluff

Other fic recs

Ineffable Husbands

Natsby

Professor Layton

Cockles

A-Spec Across Fandoms

My writing

After (634 words) - AO3

Dean Winchester was dead.

You Only Live Once (1,238 words) - AO3

“Hello, Dean,” Cas replied, his frown matching Sam’s. “What are you doing up?”

“I’m allowed to leave my bed, guys.” Dean pouted, plopping himself safely out of spaghetti splatter range. “I’m only dying. It’s no biggie.”

Heaven's Honeysuckle (2,591 words) - AO3

Dean is only meant to pick up the flowers for his brother's wedding, but the kind man with the blue eyes who works there keeps dragging him back to the small shop.

'I love you' (420 words) - AO3

"I love you."

Dean just stares at him.

All Alright (1,403 words) - AO3

Two people die every second. It was a fact Dean had learnt many years ago, from some shitty game show on some crappy motel room tv. Two people die every second, and Dean couldn’t help but feel like they were always people he knew.

A State of Normal (457 words) - AO3

Slowly, life returned to a state of normal that Dean hardly recognised.

Forever Intertwined (358 words) - AO3

Castiel was no longer an angel of the Lord. He did not have the power to grip anyone tight and raise them from perdition. In fact, for all intents and purposes, he was human.

That didn’t mean that there wasn’t anything he could do while he waited for his love.

nothing ever really ends, does it? (3,397 words) - AO3

Five different endings to Supernatural, because they deserved better. Each one is self-contained, and they are all varying lengths.

Darling, So It Goes (4,652 words) - AO3 / post

When Dean gets asked to be Santa for Jody and Donna's Christmas party, he does not expect it to end with a litre of chocolate milk over a homophobe's head, but he is all too eager to help out a man in need.

Wrapped in Red (7,265 words) - AO3 / post

New at being human, Castiel doesn't know a lot about Christmas traditions, but when a case involves them infiltrating a couple's only Christmas party, Cas wants the full experience.

Including mistletoe.

5 Birthdays Dean Had Without His Angel, and the One With (1,516 words) - AO3 / podfic / post

Six different January 24ths, and how Dean celebrated.

Who We Are (17,331 words) - AO3 / post

It was supposed to be easy: barge into the Empty, rescue Cas, confess his love, be back in time for dinner.

The man Dean rescued was not the Cas he knew.

Suez, My Beloved <3 (507 words) - AO3 / podfic by mistbornhero / post

There has been too much calm in the world.

Season 16, Time For A Wedding! (12,332 words) - AO3 / post

Dean and Castiel are inviting you to share in their celebration of marriage.

+ Dinner and reception after!

Whoever wasn't expecting chaos had clearly never met the Winchesters.

Gay or European ( ADD LATER ) - AO3 / post

When the British contestant for this year's Eurovision Song Contest is suddenly out of the competition, it's left to four Americans and their Irish friend to take the microphone.

Paige, their manager, has not packed nearly enough painkillers for the chaos this trip will cause.

death may love you more ( ADD LATER) - AO3

On a hunt gone wrong, Dean finds himself possessed by an old enemy of the Winchesters. Bela is out for revenge, and she is hell bent on ruining Dean's life through any means possible.

If that means breaking the angel's heart, then, well...

Tumblr Ficlets

Don't Mention It

23 (for an ask game)

Supernatural: The End

"You love her, don't you?" (Thasmin)

Podfics

Building the Michael Sword: Some Assembly Required (10 minutes)

Castiel gripped Dean tight and raised him from perdition, everybody and their mother knows that. What is less well-known, however, is that he was also responsible for re-assembling the body.

Which he did with all the grace and patience of a man putting together a particularly difficult IKEA bunk bed.

The Tea is Decaf (25 minutes)

Based on this text post from thebloggerbloggerfun: "Listen, imagine Eileen sneaking out of Sam’s room at night to go to the bathroom or something and steps out into the hallway in one of Sam’s shirts only to see Cas trying to quietly leave Dean’s room while wearing one of Dean’s shirts and they both just stare at each other awkwardly for a few seconds before trying to muffle quiet laughter and now they have a late night club where they talk about life and gossip about the Winchesters in sign language"

And this anon I received: "what if Eileen and Cas discover there are some things Sam and Dean both do in bed because Dean jokingly gave Sam pointers when they were younger and Sam took the advice"

#supernatural #masterpost #my writing #destiel #i just. fuckin. forgot to post this oops-

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hlupdate · 4 years ago

Link

In a never-before-published 2012 interview, Harry Styles and Niall Horan talk about their childhoods, the future of One Direction, and much more

In the spring of 2012, I spent a few entertaining days hanging out with the five young members of a British boy band who were just breaking big in the United States. The guys from One Direction were unjaded, unguarded, totally charming, and a puppy pile of optimism and energy. On April 8th, in a New York City hotel room, an 18-year-old Harry Styles and 16-year-old Niall Horan sat down with me for a joint interview, published here for the first time. (The reporting was intended for a Rolling Stone cover story that never ran.)

It was late morning, and they had both just rolled out of bed. Styles wore a hotel bathrobe; Horan, with braces still on his teeth, was in sweatpants, a T-shirt, and a Dallas Mavericks hat a fan had given him during a recent trip to Texas. The conversation was casual, full of laughs, and focused on their formative years.

What did you do at the gym last night? Harry: One of our security guys, his friend’s over, he’s a personal trainer, so I was working with him, and he ripped me to shreds.

In 12 hours, you have to do Saturday Night Live. Are you ready? Harry: Yeah, I think so. I think it’s going to be a fun day. It’s just really exciting, obviously. The show is so huge. For us to get the opportunity to be on it at all was just amazing, and to us, to be performing and just be involved with the show is amazing.

Have you seen whole episodes of it? Harry: I’ve watched a lot of clips on YouTube. They don’t show it in the U.K.

Growing up, when did you realize you could sing or that you wanted to sing? Harry: I sang in primary school, like the school productions, plays and stuff.

What was your first one? Harry: The first one was…I was five, and there was a story about a mouse who lived in a church, and I was Barney, the mouse. I had to wear my sister’s tights, and a headband with ears on it, and I had to sing a song all by myself. I remember it was just like, whatever…in the second, I was Buzz Lightyear in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, so you know when they run and hide in the toy shop? Buzz Lightyear was in the toy shop, so they just created my character. The last one, I was in…you know Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat? I was the pharaoh, but I was an Elvis pharaoh.

Did you have a sense that this is what you wanted to do in your life? Harry: I think in school, I was OK, I wasn’t a bad student. I think I just knew I wanted to entertain people and stuff. I was a bit of an attention-seeker at school.

Niall: Me, too. I just talked too much, sang too much.

You were onstage as a kid and were like, “This is what I like”? Harry: I knew it was fun, I had a lot of fun doing it, and I stopped when I started high school, and then I didn’t really do anything, I just sang at home, in the shower, in your bedroom, that type of thing. I guess it started again when my friends were in a band and they wanted to do this battle of the bands competition that was at school, and they needed a singer, and one of my friends asked me.

What did you sing? Harry: We sang “Are You Gonna Be My Girl” by Jet, and “Summer of ’69.” We did it more towards the Bowling For Soup version.

How about you, Niall? Niall: I always knew I wanted to sing. I was academic…I was one of those people that if I’m not interested in something, I don’t really care. If I’m not interested in school, I would have never trained or done my homework or anything, I’d have just gone outside and played football or whatever.

Harry: [helpfully translating] Soccer.

Niall: So I always wanted to sing. I was singing here and there, not gigs or anything, but I always sang around the house or whatever, and I played Oliver in a school play. And then I just did that, and people told me I should do something…I was only 10, what could I do at 10? I just did a couple of gigs, and when I got to high school, they told me that I should just try out for The X-Factor.

Who told you? Niall: My French teacher. We used to do talent shows and stuff at school, she was like, “You should do it,” so I did it.

What did that entail? What were the steps from being a kid in high school to getting on the show? Niall: It was the final of The X-Factor the year before, and at the end credits of the final, it says, “If you want to apply for 2010, go online,” so a couple of weeks later, I said, “Right, I’m going to do it,” and I filled in the form online, we were sending emails back and forth, going to this place at this time. The first one is at a big stadium, then if you get through that, you come back the next day. Is that the way they did it with you?

Harry: I had to wait a little bit, I think.

Niall: I was there at five a.m., I got seen at 12, and I was out of there by quarter past 12, and the next day I came back at 10 in the morning. You get through the first round, then they do a round where they don’t tell you if you got through after that.

Harry: They film it.

Niall: The producer and someone from the label. They film it and show it to whoever. Then if you got through that, it takes about two or three weeks until you find out. I was in Spain. Then you just go through the audition.

Harry, how did you wind up on X-Factor? Harry: I basically said, the same as Niall, I was watching the year before, and I remember looking at the young guys on there, and I was kind of like, “I’d love to have a go at it just to see what happens,” and that was kind of it. My mum actually did the application, and then three weeks later, I walked upstairs and she said, “Oh, you’ve got your X-Factor audition Sunday,” and I was like, “OK.”

Niall: In England, it’s the biggest thing ever. It took a while to build.

Harry: The two or three years were steady, and third or fourth, it just blew up.

Niall: It works that one in three people in the UK watch it. There’s 60 million people in the UK, and 21 million people watched the final the year we were in it.

Harry, your band also played at least one wedding right? Harry: Yeah. We actually said that we’d do the wedding gig, and…

Niall: You get paid for it?

Harry: Yeah. 160 quid, between all four of us. 40 quid each…we said we’d do it, and then we found out it was the weekend coming up, and we hadn’t done anything for it, so we asked the bride what kind of stuff she wanted, and she said she didn’t mind, but she wanted some Bob Marley songs. Literally in three days, not even three, probably two days, we learned like 25 songs. We might have known like three of them before. I was 16, maybe 15, singing these Bob Marley songs. There was a girl a couple of years below us, and it was her mum, she said she wanted us to play.

Niall: Can you imagine you’re at a wedding and you have 16-year-old kids up on the stage?

Maybe you were really good! Harry: Yeah, the drummer is one of my best friends from school, he’s a sick drummer, he’s so good.

Did you think the band could be something? Harry: A bit. My friend’s mum was a radio presenter, and she did a radio show for a bit, so she was trying to sort us out a little bit of studio time, we were going to go in and record.

What do your parents do? Harry: My mum is a PA. My dad is a financial adviser.

How about you? Niall: My dad works at a supermarket, he’s the head manager, general manager of an area, not just one, and my mum is unemployed now, so I try to help them out whenever I can.

You probably can. That must be nice. Niall: Yeah, it’s nice, it’s good.

Plus, now you can tell them what to do. Harry: [laughs] “Now you go to bed.”

Were you happy as kids? Did you have adolescent angst and stuff? Did you go through depressed periods? Harry: Not really. I think at one point, I started acting like I was…I had a phase of listening to really heavy music.

Niall: I never went through that.

Harry: Not stupid heavy, but a bit… just because I thought it was cool.

Like what? Harry: Like Nirvana T-shirts, wore black all the time, pretty much.

Were you pretty happy go-lucky? Niall: Yeah, I was always happy. I think me and Harry were lucky. Our parents got divorced quite early, didn’t they, when we were really young. I was four, I didn’t know much, so I was always a happy kid, always up for a laugh, very carefree, and I’m a bit like that now.

Did you both grow up in your moms’ houses? Harry: Yeah.

Niall: I went between both, my mum moved to the country and I didn’t have any interest in it. I always felt like the country is for when you’re older. I was with my mom for a while but got bored, all my friends were in town, I went to school in town and all that stuff. It was more like that.

Harry: I lived with both parents, and then moved with my mum, and we owned a pub for like five years. I remember the first night, it was like a night where a band was playing, and I just thought, “How am I going to get to sleep?” I was three stories up, I was like, “How am I going to get to sleep with this noise?” I was next to a road in Sussex in the middle of nowhere, and by the end, I could fall asleep next to the band, I was so used to the noise.

Was it imprinting your brain? Harry: Maybe. One of the guys who used to play every so often, he used to be in Deep Purple or something… He started teaching me guitar when I was like 10, I think 10, maybe nine. I loved it. I was 10, 11, all of the regulars, I got on with them. I’d walk behind the bar and my head would barely go over the bar. It’s still going now. We sold it to my best friend, we go in all the time still.

People say you come off as more mature than your age, you come off wiser. Did hanging around all those people as a kid help you mature?

Harry: I don’t know, maybe. I moved when I was seven or eight from Cheshire, and it was still Cheshire, but half an hour away, but in terms of not driving and stuff, all my friends lived near my school, so that was a bit further out. One of my friends there was my sister’s age, he was 16 when I was 10. It was so tiny, they were the only teenage boys…we’d ride our bikes and go to the driving range and stuff. It was good, it was fun.

You both wanted to entertain – if it hadn’t worked out, would you have been really unhappy? Harry: Yeah, I think it would be kind of like…one of the reasons you go for X-Factor in the first place is that you want to do this, and it kind of helps you get out of the life that you were doing before. I worked in a bakery for two years. Obviously, I didn’t want to do that for ages!

If you’d asked people at school, would they have said, “Yeah, they’re probably going to be famous,” or would they never have guessed that? Niall: My aunt, I was in the back of her car. We used to go across Ireland to go to the beach for a couple of weeks, and I remember we were in the car, I was singing, and she thought I was the radio, and she told me, I never forgot it, that she thought I was going to be famous since I was six, seven. She was the only person who told me that, so I always remembered that.

Harry: My dad said it. I used to listen to a lot of the music he was playing, he’d play Elvis Presley to death, the Stones, I’d sing along to that and he’d say, “You’re going to be famous,” or whatever. He came on tour with us for a few days out here, he came to the Radio City show. He just said, for him, it was so educational. Obviously, he hears about what happens when I call him, but to see it and see it actually happen and how everything works was so good for him, he really enjoyed it. So that was nice.

So you grew up on Elvis and the Stones? Harry: Yeah, pretty much. My dad was a massive Stones fan, so it was pretty much Beatles and Stones in terms of what my dad played.

People say you kind of look like Mick.

Niall: He gets that a lot.

Harry: I get it more here, probably, than I do at home. It’s because of the British thing.

What have you learned about life from the last few years, what didn’t you know? What advice would you give yourself? Niall: How much more independent we actually are – me, anyway. Your mum attends to your every need and does your food and washing and gives you somewhere to live. Then you go into the real world, as you’re told as a kid…

Harry: We’re living on our own now.

Niall: We just started living on our own in the last six months, really.

Harry: I’m moving when I get back.

Niall: We do our own washing, we make our own food, we rent places, we’re out on our own now. You mature so quick, you’re dealing with big businessmen every day, you’re not dealing with school, people your own age. It’s a bit different.

Harry: You seem to learn so many life lessons, but in such a short space of time. If I speak to my friends and they’re having problems with girls, whatever it is, now I seem to just have the answer. I don’t know, it’s just different. Or I think I have the answer. In terms of…one of my friends was trying to decide what to do with school, stuff like that, and I would have had no idea what to say to him before.

The last two years must feel like 10. Harry: Yeah, but at the same time, it feels like six months, it’s weird. X-Factor was two years ago, but it seems like five years ago, but at the same time, it’s gone so quick. It’s a really strange dynamic of how it feels.

Do you have a sense of how this is going to go? Does it matter if it’s two years, five years or forever? Harry: I think how much we all enjoy it, because we love what we do – if you have to call it a job, it’s an incredible job to have, and we love it. We’ll all want to do it for as long as possible. If we have the opportunity to have a Take That kind of career, I don’t see any reason why we wouldn’t want to do that. If we don’t, I don’t know…we’ve done some amazing things already, but we don’t want to stop there, we want to keep going. I guess if we didn’t, I think we’d probably want to still be involved in…I’d just write, I guess.

Do you want to act? It feels like you could have your own TV show. Harry: I think it would be more of a documentary, because obviously, we’re not actors.

People must want you to try. Niall: Watch tonight, tell us what you think. Watch SNL.

Will you all make solo albums? Is that inevitable? Harry: No, I don’t think so.

Niall: Let’s do a swing album!

Harry: [laughs] We’ll all do swing albums. We’re just so focused on this, we all feel so lucky just to be part of this opportunity that we’ve all been given, it’s incredible, we’re just loving it. It’s sick.

People make a lot of assumptions about people in your position. They think you’re puppets and do what you’re told. What do you do when people make those assumptions? Harry: When you look from the outside, especially if you’re a skeptic of groups made through TV shows, which is fair enough, people don’t see what we do on a daily basis, people don’t see…I think from the outside, it looks so glamorous, they see us do TV performances every now and again, see us doing an interview every now and again, but they don’t know that we work seven days a week.

Niall: If there was eight days, we’d fit it in.

Harry: It’s not as completely glamorous all the time, of course it’s not, it would be stupid to think that it would be, but it’s hard work.

Niall: You’ve got to remember that you’ve got people on your team that have been doing this for many years and have been through the mill. You have all that experience around you, even from our tour manager, who’s been doing this for 20 years, they know what’s right, but at the same time, we want to have creative control, because at the end of the day, it’s us stepping out onto the stage of SNL tonight and have to sing these songs. We want to be singing what we enjoy, as we said last night. The music we all listen to is what we try and blend together to make this One Direction sound.

Harry: We obviously want to make it authentic and have our say without going, “People say we don’t control it, so we need to take control.” We’re not…we haven’t been writing songs for 20 years, we’re not producers. We’ve got an incredible team around us. Luckily, we’ve been given a lot of freedom, so we don’t go, “OK, we just need more and more control,” because we have a lot of control already. I think we find a really good balance in the way we work with our record label and our management, and it’s just how we work together, I think.

In any case, it’s probably better than the bakery. Harry: Yeah. But I don’t get a nice bun on my break anymore, that’s the thing.

Did you wear an apron? Harry: Oh yeah, I wore a white polo shirt and a maroon apron with white stripes. “What would you like? 78 pence, thank you very much.”

Were you behind the counter? Harry: Yeah, I was behind the counter. It was good. It was Saturday morning, I started at five and finished at four in the afternoon and got like 30 quid, it was a joke.

Niall, did you have a job? Niall: No, never.

So this is your first job. Niall: Yeah, not bad at all. I was chilling, I was being a kid.

Harry: I had a paper route before that. It gave me a bad back, bad posture. It was a heavy bag.

I interviewed some fans downstairs, and asked if they knew who you were six months ago, and they all said yes, and a year ago…They were all early adopters, heard you from the Internet, watched X Factor on YouTube… Harry: It’s the internet. People have friends over here that might tell their friends and look on YouTube and show their friends. It’s insane how it’s blown up. We’ve had the opportunity to come over to America and do shows, and release our music over here, which is amazing. Through the power of social media, we already had a bit of a following before we’d ever been over here, we hadn’t done any shows. We had some fans out here, which was amazing, but weird, really strange. I don’t know, it’s gone crazy. We don’t really see loads of it. We do the shows, then we’re in hotels, then we fly somewhere else. We don’t see massive amounts of it, we just go with it. This whole thing has gone on, and it’s sick.

Do you ever feel anxious through all this? Harry: Yeah, I think, obviously, just naturally, you think about what’s going to happen in the future. We’re 18, 19, 20 years old, we’re young. I wouldn’t say anxious, we’re just excited most of the time, and having so much fun, that if stuff were to finish and you were to look back on your time and all you did the whole time throughout this amazing stuff was shitting yourself about what’s going to happen next, then it would just be…I think you have to enjoy it while it’s going on. I think you should be wary about the future, but not worrying about it all the time. We still enjoy it and have fun, but obviously, you do think, “What am I going to be doing in 20 years, 30 year?” I’ll have kids by then.

Harry, I saw a tabloid with pictures of everyone smiling, and you were looking thoughtful. Do you get down sometimes? While everyone else is having fun, do you start drifting off? Harry: No, I think I’m naturally…not everyone is happy all of the time. I think you always have times when…like when you’ve just landed off a really long flight or miss home or something. They got a picture of me where I wasn’t smiling. I usually smile, but they got one where I wasn’t smiling and used that, and then said I wasn’t happy. They did that for a few days, that’s when we were in L.A. last time. It goes with the morbid voice.

Ringo would say, “It’s just me face.” Niall: “Who’s that little old man?” [quoting Hard Day’s Night]

Harry: “That’s Paul’s grandfather. He’s very clean.”

Sometimes you can drift off, that’s just your thing. Harry: [laughs] I’m just soulful, man, I try.

Harry, do you mind when you’re singled out for attention? Harry: I don’t know. I don’t really…I don’t know. We’re a band. Everything we do is together. I don’t take much notice of it.

So you’re not the Justin. Harry: No.

Niall: J.C. was popular, too, wasn’t he?

It’s not like that for you guys. Harry: Not at all.

There was an imbalance in that group. Harry: I think we find it important that people get to know all of our individual personalities, because…

Niall: I think that’s what’s good about it, people see us as individuals as well as a band, we all have our own personality, and we all give something to a band. Previous bands, they go around and can never explain themselves, they can explain the band, but as individuals, what we bring to the band and stuff…

Harry: We all know that we all have our roles, and we all know that without one of us, it wouldn’t work.

#harry styles #niall horan #one direction #230720 #1d ten

402 notes · View notes

rev-1832 · 4 years ago

Note

please for the love of all fuck explain mcyt to me

Omg I've been waiting for this

So mcyt means minecraft youtube, but usually also includes Twitch streamers. It's like a in general thing, and not pointing to anything specific

But since you sound so confused, I'm gonna explain to you the Dream SMP lore 'cause why not

TL;DR: Chaos and war, basically also like a hamilton, heathers, and les mis crossover (but i mean if you want to understand everything you should read.)

If theres spelling mistakes, sorry

Note: Everyone on the smp has three canon lives, and when you loose all three you're canonically dead (except philza minecraft. he has one canon life bc hes known as the hardcore guy bc he had a minecraft hardcore series for 6 years until he was killed by a spider while trying to fight a baby zombie lmaoooooo)

IMPORTANT: THIS IS ALL RP. IRL THEY’RE ALL FRIENDS. THERES A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE PLAYER AND THE CHARACTER. THE RELATIONSHIPS AREN’T ACTUALLY TOGETHER IRL. ITS ALL THEIR CHARACTERS THAT THEY MADE UP. (obviously the best friends stuff are irl)

In the beginning there were 8: The Dream Team (Dream, Georgenotfound [the guy in my pfp btw :)] , Sapnap), Badboyhalo, Awesamdude, Ponk, Callahan, and Alyssa. Around this time, nothing much happened since it was all brand new, uhh yeah (this was around may-july of this year)

Then around late july new members joined: Tommyinnit, Tubbo, Wilbur Soot, Eret, Skeppy, Fundy, Punz, Purpled, and Schlatt. This part is very important to the lore, because the lore kinda started off with the british (so tommy, tubbo, wilbur, eret) Schlatt was banned, cause Sapnap was the one who invited him and Dream didn't know who he was. He'll come up later.

So Wilbur and Tommy decided to create a new nation called "L'Manberg". Also around this time (i think) Nihachu and Jack Manifold joined. They also were part of L'Manberg. There was this huge revolution between Dream Smp and L'Manberg. Very historical period on this smp. In the end, (i think it was?) L'Manberg who won (if memory serves).

After that, L'Manberg had started growing bigger, with a lot more buildings added and stuff, notably Church Prime, which where they created a religion for Twitch Prime, which is how you can sub to your favorite twitch streamer for free if you link your amazon prime account. I'm pretty sure around this time, Quackity, Karl Jacobs (if you watch Mr. Beast; yes, that karl jacobs), HBomb, Technoblade, and Antfrost joined. And then the railway war started. It happened when Tommy accidentally ran over Dream with a Minecart and then took his stuff. This is how the disc war started (once again, if memory serves). The two discs Tommy owns are his prized possesions, and Dream took them. Also around this time the Pet War started, with Sapnap killing someones(i forgot oops) pet. And then more pet killing. Annnnd then even more.

Then there was the L'Manberg eletion. There was POG2020, who was Wilbur and Tommy, SWAG2020, Quackity and George, Coconut2020, Fundy and Nihachu, and Schlatt2020 which was Schlatt. Oh yeah and he got unbanned btw

SWAG2020 and Schlatt2020 decided to combine their votes, thus Shclatt became president and Quackity his vp. Oh and ever since the election Quackity has this grudge against George bc he slept through the election. Schlatt renamed L'Manberg to Manberg, and exiled Tommy and Wilbur from it.

Schlatt is a evil dictator who likes power. He and Quackity started fighting, and so Quackity became part of Tommy and Wilbur's side. Around this time was The Battle of the Lake and The Burning Eiffel Tower, both part of the pet war. (It seems like a innocent war but its actually brutal lmao) Also (irl) Mr. Beast had a $10,000 Taco Bell gift card hunt. Eret won. It was at the cords 6969,420, because haha funny number haha weed number. This has nothing to do with the lore but yeah. Eret also became King of the SMP

Then there was the Manberg festival. It was to celebrate democracy, but Tubbo puts it as "i decorated my own execution" bc he helped decorate it, but he was murdered there. At the festival was the Manberg Massicare, where Technoblade was forced to shoot tubbo, but he released a firework rocket kiling Tubbo, Schlatt, Quackity, and a few others. Many people lost one of their canon lives. Wilbur went all J.D like and planted 11 stacks of TNT underneath Manberg, and wanted to blow it up.

Pogtopia was formed, which is a ravine which i think is underneath? manberg? Which included basically everybody who wasn't neutral or with schlatt. On November 16 was the Manberg VS Pogtopia war, but the Badlands were also there. The Badlands is a nation of four people: Bbh, Skeppy, Awesamdude, and Antfrost. They faught with the loosing side, so the chaos could continue. Eret disobeyed Dream and got stripped of his royalty, and gave it to George. Oh and during this time, George had no idea there was a war and was building a cottagecore mushroom house with callahan and was very confused with all the death messages in the chat. Schlatt died canonically of a heart attack or stroke (no one knows tbh). Tommy became president, passed it to wilbur bc he still has unfinished buissness with dream (the discs), and wilbur passed it to Tubbo, who made Tommy his vp. Technoblade then argued about how government is bad, and they're just repeating history. Philza Minecraft joined the server, but no one could find him, until Wilbur blew up L'Manberg (they rechanged the name also). Wilbur then made Philza kill him, so Wilbur also became canonically dead. Then Techno, still mad at L'Manberg and governments, summoned two withers and made it attack the others. The Geogre decided to check out what was happening and helped fight. After the chaos, Captain Puffy and ConnorEatsPants joined the smp. About one to two weeks later Vikkstar and LazarBeam joined, then about three months after that Ranboo joined.

They rebuilt L'Manberg on stilts, and there water where the explosion was, but now with coral and stuff to make it all pretty. Tommy and Ranboo decided to go steal from Georges mushroom house, but then also griefed it and burnt it, and Dream, being a George simp, built obsidian walls around L'Manberg. They took Tommy to court, and was put on probation. Then Tommy got exiled (again) but this time by his own best friend. This made Quackity vp and Fundy secutary of state. Dream also took Georges king thing and gave it back to Eret because Eret has a good relationship with everybody, whereas George being King just caused chaos cause hes close to Dream. Quackity and Karl made Mexican L'Manberg, and George and Sapnap joined in also. War against Dream SMP, it was a negotiation and it got renamed into El Rapids (reference to Chilling in Cedar Rapids, which Hilary Clinton once said, and Quackity referenced it, got it trending #1 one twitter (well i mean dsmp gets things trending like everyday but), and got DONALD TRUMP TO SUBTWEET HIM. (This happened irl)

In his exile, Ghostbur (wilbur as ghost) and Tommy made Logstedshire, and Dream was often there to watch him. Dream then blew it up, and now Tommy is living with Techno in his arctic place. Currently, Quackity made a thing called The Butcher Army, so they could execute Techno. Tubbo, Quackity, Fundy, and I also think Ranboo? are trying to get another festival, and yes its a secret execution plan, but for them to kill Dream, who they realized is who they need to kill first. The disc war is still not over. Tommy has one of his discs, but Skeppy is in possesion of the other one.

Unluckily for Tommy (reguarding the discs), something happened in the Badlands. Bbh was digging out his underground statue room (he plans to make a statue of everyone of the server) and found this crimson egg. He, Antfrost, and Captain Puffy kinda got possesed. Also since Skeppy didn't really hang out on the server at night, but bbh does (OF FUCK I FORGOT TO MENTION HE AND BBH ARE BEST FRIENDS) Captain Puffy created Discount Skeppy, which is her in a Skeppy skin. Skeppy found out, had a little conflict with her during her stream, but it was resolved, and at one point in the stream, he asked bbh to choose between him and the egg, and when bbh didn't answer, he went to the egg, put himself inside it, and logged off. Couple days later, bbh and puffy got him out, hes now possed by the crimson, called Technoblade his "best friend" infront of bbh, and is now living in a grass hut. Bad is convinced theres still some skeppt left, but yeah. Skeppy also wanted to burn the disc.

End of lore for now, bc its like if you miss ONE STREAM YOU MISS LIKE A REALLY IMPORTANT EVENT AND ITS STRESSFUL

Not much part of lore but Nihachu and Captain Puffy once went on a date. They’re both bi irl and Puffy was on Nihachu’s Love or Host (twitch dating show. its really entertaining) Captain Puffy was a contestant, and chose love. (LoH is also how Nihachu and Wilbur met.)

Funfact: Theres 5 irl lgbtq+ ppl on the server (people who came out, anyways cause you never know, ya know?) Antfrost is gay, Eret, Nihachu, Captain Puffy are all bi, and Karl Jacobs is ace spec

Family stuff: Philza Minecraft (he'll come up later) had two twins with a Samsung Smart Refrigerator in the 70's. The two twins being Wilbur and Technoblade (he'll come up later also) and also had another son, Tommy. They also adopted Tubbo, who they found in a box on the side of the road. When he grew up, Wilbur met Sally the Salmon, and they had a fox together (dont ask just go with it), which was Fundy. (The character) Fundy is trans, and yeah . Bbh is a dad to sapnap and yeah

Oh and a new member is coming on today on Quackity’s stream (twitch.tv/quackityhq at 5pm CST if you want to watch)

I left out some parts, sorry, but theres always the wiki...

Wilbur Soot is also a musician! He wrote I’m In Love With an Egirl, The Internet Ruined Me, and Your New Boyfriend. (did you know the last one beat taylor swift for #1 trending on youtube? idk why but im really proud of him for that) They’re all catJam’s. Go listen!

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asgardian--angels · 5 years ago

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Some more Good Omens Book minutiae

There have already been some good posts highlighting trivia and changes between the book and show (a couple are here and here) so I thought I’d add in some more that might be useful and haven’t been overdone yet. Ones I think are most helpful are bolded!

Crowley can see in the dark (because he’s a demon, not because he’s a snake)

Crowley does eat (and notes that sleeping is enjoyable after a heavy meal), but on at least one canonical occasion Aziraphale takes Crowley’s portion of food for himself (angel food cake, to be exact, and he does it without needing to ask) so infer what you will about how we never see Crowley with food in the show

Crowley does read, or at the very least it mentions him attempting to calm his nerves by reading a novel

Aziraphale learned magic when he took a class in the 1870s taught by famous stage magician John Maskelyne

Aziraphale takes his tea without sugar

Crowley does not like to shapeshift, because he is afraid he’ll forget how to turn back

It’s not terribly clear but somewhat implied that Nanny Ashtoreth and Brother Francis were NOT Crowley and Aziraphale (they reference a��‘team’ working for them) but that the two did exchange and compare notes on Warlock’s progress frequently. So thank Neil and Co. for the screenplay choices. Additionally, Brother Francis never actually did any real gardening, he just miracled everything to look perfect

When Warlock was 6 years old, nanny and gardener left and were replaced by two tutors, Mr. Harrison (evil) and Mr. Cortese (good)

Aziraphale will employ any means “short of actual physical violence” to discourage customers in his bookshop, including unpleasant damp odors and glowering looks to anyone who walks in

That clunky watch Crowley wears was custom-made to have the time in 20 world capitals as well as the time in Hell, which was always “Too Late”, and whose battery burned out years ago but he never noticed so it kept working

In 1653 Aziraphale added his own annotations to the proof sheets of a Bible published by Bilton & Scaggs Publishing (the same as who published the Nice and Accurate Prophecies), adding a bit about losing his flaming sword (basically the dialogue in the scene of the series where God confronts him at the gate in episode 3), and is now known as the Bugger Alle This Bible, one of a special collection of misprinted Bibles Aziraphale is proud to own

Aziraphale does watch films. This includes one documentary about gorillas making nests. He also makes an Exorcist reference.

For 6000 years Aziraphale thought dolphins were fish

Crowley watched Mary Poppins on TV at Christmas one year

Aziraphale buys his clothes, while Crowley manifests them

Anathema refers to Crowley and Aziraphale as “two consenting cycle repairmen” :)

Anathema’s bicycle is named Phaeton

Aziraphale’s bookshop is situated directly next to another bookshop called ‘Intimate Books’ and he occasionally gets confused customers that wrongly come into his shop

Anathema is British, not American, in the book

Adam has an older sister named Sarah

Aziraphale is the first angel to own a computer

After the non-Armageddon, Adam alters reality to send Warlock on a plane to America, because Adam thinks America is a cool and magical place and that Warlock deserves something good. (We do not find out if Warlock’s life improves, only that he liked England because it was ‘a good place to be an American’)

Crowley was so impressed by how diabolically mundane the warranty conditions for computers were that he sent a stack of them down to Hell’s ‘Immortal Souls’ agreement department with a memo saying ‘Learn, guys’

When Crowley trapped Hastur on his answering machine, he considered taking the tape and playing it in his car until it became Freddie Mercury, but he decided even that was taking it too far

While NOT show canon, in the book the combination to Crowley’s safe containing the holy water is 4-0-0-4, the year he “slithered onto this stupid, marvellous planet” (Neil has stated that the combination in the show is meaningless and was the default for the safe they bought)

In the book, it does NOT expressly say that Crowley destroys the plants he deems failures, just that he leaves and returns an hour later with an empty flowerpot

Crowley’s flat contains a bedroom, office, kitchen, lounge, and bathroom, each “forever clean and perfect” because he doesn’t really “live” there, as well as a fridge stocked with gourmet food that never spoils and the fridge isn’t even plugged in

Shadwell believes that Aziraphale is a Russian spy

Crowley and Aziraphale had both visited Shadwell’s apartment exactly once (and Aziraphale was rather disgusted by the state of the place)

In the book (as opposed to the show) Aziraphale is full aware (and nonplussed) that there’s only a 50/50 chance Heaven would win against Hell in Armageddon, and that it doesn’t matter for humans so much anyways because everyone will be killed horribly as civilian casualties during the war itself (a hilarious and very bitchy speech absolutely worth reading, when he possesses Marvin the TV preacher)

The road to Hell isn’t paved with good intentions, rather with frozen door-to-door salesmen, and young demons go ice-skating down it on weekends

Madame Tracy’s real name is Marjorie Potts

Aziraphale has “neat, copperplate” handwriting

Crowley is an optimist

It turns out, Hastur’s murder of the telephone salespeople prevented a Crowley-esque domino effect of thousands of people getting angry from the calls and passing that anger on and on, thus actually spreading a wave of low-level goodness across London

In the book, the M25 wasn’t actually on fire, but rather an inexplicable glowing combination of “pain and dark light” called infra-black, and was both 700 degrees Celsius and -140 at the same time. The Bentley spontaneously combusted when crossing it.

When Crowley meets Aziraphale-as-Tracy, he does say ‘Is that you? Nice dress’ but the TV version added the ‘It suits you.’ However in the book he also says ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new body?’ :)))

When Adam acknowledges Crowley at the airbase, Crowley feels true terror for the first time in his life, because while Hell could make you cease to exist, the Antichrist could make it so you never existed in the first place

When Aziraphale makes the soldier disappear, he actually was transported back to his childhood home in America where his family lives

In the book, to get them both home from Tadfield Crowley steals a Jeep from the airbase

Crowley and Aziraphale are deadass just referred to as ‘the couple with the bottle [of wine]’ one time

There is no body swap scene at the end, because there didn’t need to be; in the book, the stakes of Aziraphale and Crowley’s Arrangement were not nearly as high. A big deal was never made of it, as they were too unimportant to warrant the attention of their superiors. Retribution never came. While they could get in trouble (and Crowley was threatened many times) for defying orders concerning the Apocalypse, little mention was made of their friendship being a crime. Thus, they never had any real reason to deny being friends, and were much more comfortable with their loyalties and each other. This lack of tension marks the biggest divergence between the series and book, and creates a starkly different (and interesting!) dynamic for the characters in the show.

Just me but I get the distinct sense that book Aziraphale and Crowley are already an old bickering married couple and this explains the distinct lack of pining lmao.

Anyway, I hope these were enjoyable or helpful!

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #anthony crowley #mine

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bluesparrow11 · 3 years ago

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This is a 1119 unedited blurb that I wrote last year and never got around to posting. The basic premise is that the sickness either kills the person or turns them into an animal shapeshifter. I’ve got no plans to continue it but wouldn’t be against doing so if anyone is interested in reading more.

/////////////////////////////////////////

Nolan is on the verge of smothering Travis with a couch cushion and leaving Kevin to find the body over some stupid twitter post about whether a poptart is a ravioli or not when he gets the call from G. Travis swipes his phone off the coffee table where it was vibrating precariously towards the edge and fends off Patty with a flailing arm while yelling at full volume into the phone,

“I promise you! A poptart is fucking a ravioli. It’s a fucking vessel with tasty shit inside!”

“Shut the fuck up and give me my phone you fucking fuck”

Nolan attempts to press him into the corner of the couch because even though he was decidedly out of his weight class, Trav was a scrappy fucker and wasn’t above going for the armpits when cornered.

Travis was still cackling with his stupid squinty eyes and his stupid patchy beard and Patty’s phone pressed to his ear, while he presumably ignored the pleas of the person who called him to give the phone back to Patty. Nolan finally got him pinned, sitting firmly on his stomach to keep him from kicking at him when the smile slipped off his face. In the sudden silence, he could hear the tinny voice say his name and then Travis silently handed him the phone.

“Nolan?”

“G? What’s going on?”

There was a heavy sigh from the other end of the line.

“The season has been postponed until further notice”

Patty slid off of Travis onto the couch.

“The virus a lot of people were catching in Europe spread into the league. A couple guys in Florida died before they could get to the hospital.”

“Shit”

He knew it was selfish but the first thought he had was that he just fucking got back on the ice. He had finally gotten his brain to get on board and now the world had decided it was the perfect time to end.

It, it being the virus, had started in somewhere in Europe but no one was quite sure where yet because it was so new. It had spread so quickly that it infected at least fifty countries before people started noticing and closing stores and schools and borders. Nolan hadn’t thought it reached north america yet but,

“Apparently, it’s been spreading undetected for weeks in the states and probably Canada too. The plan right now is to have everyone stay where they are and quarantine there until they're sure they’re not sick. No contact with people they don’t live with. Face masks if you have to go to the grocery store. After that, I know a lot of guys are planning on heading home until a plan to restart gets proposed.”

They talked for a little bit longer but it was mostly small talk about G’s baby and Nolan definitely staying on his meal plan until Claude had to hang up to call the rest of the team to let them know the news.

After he hangs up, Nolan chucks his phone onto the couch beside him to probably slide into a crack and be a pain in the ass to find later. Travis is unusually quiet next to him.

“What did he say?”

“A couple guys on the Panthers died from the virus and the season is cancelled. We’re also not allowed to go outside.”

“Fuck”

“Yep”

There’s another long stretch of silence before Travis apparently hits his quota for the day and starts badgering him incessantly to order pancakes off of whatever weird food app he’s been using instead of just using grubhub like a normal person.

When the pancakes and arrive they divide it between them (saving some for what Kevin likes to call the ‘roommate tax’), and lean over the coffee table to eat while watching whatever random crap was on the discovery channel. It was some show where a bunch of British people tried to make the best cakes or bread or whatever. Nolan was getting pretty invested in Sharon’s candied orange peels when Travis places a warm hand on his shoulder blade.

“Hey”, he turns and Trav is making an earnest face that he thinks is supposed to be comforting, “We’re going to be okay.”

Something twists in his chest and he nods. He looks back down at his pancakes that he’s been mostly just shredding with his useless bendy plastic fork instead of eating. Anything to avoid the way Travis looks while trying to be a good fucking friend with his face all backlit by the TV, cheekbones and the bridge of his nose almost glowing.

The hand on his back gives him a couple pats before it slides back to Travis’ side.

Later when they've trudged up the stairs and are about to part ways, Nolan to his room and Travis to the guest room next door that he sleeps in so much it might as well be his, Nolan catches him by the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Hey, thanks… for earlier. On the couch”

Travis looks confused for a second and Nolan is about to just turn around and go die of embarrassment in peace when he seems to realise what he’s talking about and he ends up with an armful of Travis.

It’s a nice moment. Travis is warm in his arms and must be standing up on his tiptoes because he can hear him very clearly say,

“Anytime Pats”

Before pulling away with a shit eating grin that is just so fucking him,

“Congrats on having a human emotion bud.”

“Ugh”

Patty rolls his eyes so hard they throb a little and speed walks into his room, slamming the door just to drown out Travis’ laughing.

While he sliding between his sheets and arranging his pillows to his likling he distantly hears Kevin yell at Travis to, “Stop making a fucking racket.”

He falls asleep still feeling warm inside.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

How they decide to go quarantine in the cabin. Patty is kinda hesitant but wants to do anything but stay locked in a house and go crazy. Also really doesn’t want to accidentally take anything home to his sisters and parents. Travis convinces him to just quarantine with him at the cabin. At least at the lake there’ll be things to do and fish and shit.

The plane. It’s almost empty and the flight attendants look very harried. A kid several rows back sneezes and everyone flinches. They’re all wearing masks and Nolan is desperately trying to remain calm next to Travis. Maybe they hold hands???

They rent a truck from the airport and drive the hour to the cabin. Groceries are already delivered and are sitting in and next to a cooler on the front porch. They unpack and eat some rice and beans from a can because they can’t be bothered to do anything else for dinner.

They both get progressively more tired and start to show symptoms as the weeks moves along

Patty wakes up in the middle of the week, in the middle of the night, to his phone ringing. It’s Kevin and he’s tested positive.

#1119 #teeks #pattycakes #flyers #philadelphia flyers #travis konecny #nolan patrick #hockey #hockey rpf #rpf

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emmy-writes-sometimes · 4 years ago

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Third Wheel

You miss your boyfriend, Tom, and your dad, Chris, surprises you with him. Unfortunately for him, he gets jealous of the two of you.

“Honey?” Your dad called throughout the house, looking through each room. Your car was in the driveway and you’d been there the last time he called for you, a couple of hours ago, but he’d come back from dinner and for some reason you weren’t running toward the food that was sitting on the kitchen table for you.

“I’m in here,” you said finally, sighing. You tried to make yourself look a little bit less pathetic, but it wasn’t working. You were curled up in bed, wearing one of your boyfriend’s sweatshirts, and anyone that looked at you for more than a second could tell that you’d been crying. Your eyes were puffy and your makeup had been cried off.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked you, rushing over to you. You shut your phone and threw it somewhere on the bed, sitting up as he sat down on the edge.

“Nothing,” you responded. You were lying and he knew it. You wore Tom’s things to sleep in, sure, but it was rare for him to see you in them in the middle of the afternoon.

“What happened? Did he break up with you? I’ll kill him.” You laughed and shook your head, sniffling.

“Well why are you upset, then, huh?” He asked. “You weren’t upset earlier.”

“I just miss him,” you sighed. “I know that’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not. You haven’t seen him in three months and that sucks.” Usually, Tom could kidnap you for a couple of days when you were both in Los Angeles, but you hadn’t gone out there with your dad the last time. You were stuck in Boston, filling out college applications and going on visits and trying to figure out where you were going to end up. And even though you had a week off from spring break, Tom was stuck in London doing work. Theoretically one of you could have come to the other, but you’d both agreed that it was too stressful. He would come down to see your graduation and you were taking a road trip together after. He told you he loved you every single day, he would FaceTime every time he got the chance, and you’d often talk on the phone until the other fell asleep. He loved you, and you loved him, and he always told you that unless something went seriously wrong, he wasn’t going to just break up with you.

You were used to distance and it shouldn’t have bothered you. But it did. Things had been hard lately – you’d been getting some rejections, or you didn’t get a scholarship, and then your volleyball team didn’t get to the state championship like it almost always did, and you found out that he couldn’t come for your prom so of course you were broken-hearted. You understood the distance and it made your relationship so much stronger when you were together. But you were just missing him, badly, badly enough to cry about it in the middle of the afternoon.

“Yeah,” you responded, looking down at your comforter. “I’m such a wimp. We’re literally going on vacation together after graduation, I just…”

“Things are tough right now. I know. And now that you’re off school for a while they’ll suck.” He knew what you were thinking almost all the time, and he knew that’s what you were thinking about.

“I just wish we could be a normal couple sometimes and go to prom together and do things on birthdays…” You had only been together since you turned eighteen, so only for a few months, but you’d known each other for years and every time you had to be separated for something like that it sucked. You could send cards videos and presents, but it wasn’t the same as actually being together. Nothing was.

“I know. But once you’re off at school and things get back to normal everything will get better. Promise.” He offered you a pinky and you took his promise. “I left some food for you downstairs. You should really eat something, especially if you’ve been crying.” You nodded.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“No problem, sweetie. Let me know if you need something, okay? I’ll be in the office.” You nodded and got out of bed, following him through the hallway until reaching the stairs. You took your phone with you, opening one of Tom’s snapchats. Miss you, babes! it said, and it was a picture of Tom in the oversized t-shirt he’d stolen from you. You sent him back a selfie of your crying self in his sweatshirt, captioning it It’s been rough out here, bud. You knew it would make him laugh, even if it was self-depriciating. He was trying to work on that with you, but he couldn’t stop you from sending him snapchats.

Your dad had lied to you. Point blank. He’d straight up lied to you. Because when he got to his office, he wasn’t working. He was texting Tom, asking what he was doing, and if he could spare a few days. Tom said of course, anything for you, and that he could go to meetings with Zoom. You hadn’t even asked him to come because you assumed he was too busy. So it was set – your dad would find an excuse to take you to the airport, pick up Tom, and let the two of you spend a few days together. Your dad sent off a flight itinerary to Tom, one that started in about six hours.

“Hey, you wanna get lunch tomorrow? There’s a new place out by Logan I wanna check out,” your dad said later, looking down at his phone, as he stood in the doorway to your room. You nodded.

“Yeah, sure. What time?”

“12?” You nodded, looking over at the clock. It was late. Really late. Way later than you usually were up, but it was break. You let that be the deciding factor, and after texting Tom good night you placed your phone on the wireless charger and rolled over to go to sleep.

You were ready to go at noon the next morning – you’d spent the morning at a volleyball thing before swinging back by the house to change and get ready to go to lunch. Your dad was waiting for you and herded you out the door. Of course you weren’t suspicious when you started heading out toward the airport, because that’s where your dad said you were going. You were too busy looking at your phone, texting with one of your friends, to notice that he took the actual exit for the airport.

“Why are we at the airport?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow. “Did you miss the other exit again? It’s really not that hard.” Your dad sighed.

“You’re a real smartass sometimes, you know that?” He asked. “I’m doing you a favor.” You looked around, trying to figure out why the hell your dad was going toward the international terminal. You really hadn’t caught on, still, and you didn’t until he pulled up to the British Airways pickup area. You saw a familiar face – curly brown hair covered by a baseball hat, big brown eyes, and there was a grin on his face when he saw your dad’s car pull up. He had enough luggage for at least a few days, and you realized what was going on.

“You-” You turned toward your dad, grabbing his arm from where it was resting on the gear shift and shaking it. He smiled at you.

“Yes, now go get your boyfriend!” He said. You un-buckled your seatbelt and literally ran out of the car, hitting the concrete and stepping up on the curb. Tom had put his backpack down and met you in the middle, hugging you so tightly that you couldn’t breathe. You had missed him so much that you almost forgot the way he made you feel, and you never wanted to forget that. He wrapped his arms around your back, smiling at you, and kissed the top of your head.

“Are you surprised?” He asked you, letting go only to kiss your lips. You could feel tears forming in your eyes and just nodded, smiling, and crashed back into his chest.

“I missed you so much,” you said, trying not to start crying like a little kid. He chuckled and you could feel the warmth in his chest and that made you smile. “I thought…”

“Your dad told me you missed me, so I moved some meetings around,” he explained. You turned toward your dad, who was recording you with your phone that you’d left in the center console. One of the airport police was waving you off, so you grabbed Tom’s backpack and went to the car, shoving it in the trunk as he put his suitcase in the back seat. You climbed into the front seat again but turned to him, smiling.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here,” you said. Tom smiled and greeted your dad.

“I can’t either, honestly.” Your dad just grinned, happy to see you so happy. Truth be told, he kind of missed Tom too. And he missed having your happy self around, and he could tell how drained you were. You needed a break.

Your dad pulled into a restaurant, knowing that you hadn’t eaten since last night and Tom was probably starving from his long flight, and the two of you sat together on the same side of the booth. You were probably hugging him half the time, resting your head on his shoulder. Your dad tried to pretend it was annoying him, even though he was happy too. You were a completely different person after meeting Tom and being with him, for the better, and he loved seeing the effect that he had on you. Tom was good, to you and for you, and he had never expected that to be the case. As far as he was concerned, Tom was the only person good enough for his girl.

“I love you, absolutely dearly, but I am exhausted,” Tom said as the two of you walked inside the house. “Can we just watch a movie or something?”

“Yeah, duh,” you said.

“Hey, guys, make sure the door stays open!” Your dad called up the stairs when he saw you two carrying Tom’s bags up. You did what your dad asked, especially since he was the one who had coordinated Tom to come anyway, and after showering off the airport smell you and Tom spent most of the day curled up in your bed, watching movies on your TV, and talking. The two of you didn’t even come out for dinner – you just went to get some snacks a few hours later and ate them until you were full.

“Good night, guys,” your dad said to the both of you later. You had your head on Tom’s chest, eyes shut, almost asleep. You moved your hand from where it was wrapped around Tom’s waist and gave him a thumbs up. You were one of the lucky ones – your dad didn’t care if he stayed in your room because nothing was going to happen, because if it was he was going to know about it and you knew you’d never hear the end of it. There was one time you’d disobeyed him and he had literally removed your door off of its hinges until you cried for him to give it back.

“I’m happy you’re here,” you said a few minutes later to Tom as he was turning the movie off. You rolled over toward the wall, letting Tom get settled before pulling you back in.

“Me too, babes,” Tom said, kissing your shoulder. “And I can’t wait for you to show me ‘round tomorrow.” You smiled and snuggled closer to him, closing your eyes for the last time. You were just happy that he was there, but to get to sleep in his arms after all of that time was what you’d desperately needed the past few months.

You woke up the next morning to see that Tom was already awake, drinking a cup of coffee out of one of your mugs as he sat on the couch, petting Dodger. He turned toward you and smiled. You could smell that your dad was making enough eggs for all of you, and since you hadn’t eaten much the day before you were hungry. You flopped down next to Tom and he immediately extended his arm out for you to curl up by. Your legs went in his lap and he gave you some of his coffee, making sure to drink from the other side in case he caught something on the plane.

“Oh, come on, Y/n, I will get you another mug,” your dad laughed when he saw the two of you. “Food’ll be ready in a minute.”

The two of you got up and went over to the kitchen table, setting the table and sitting down together as he scooped food onto all of your plates. It was spread a little thin, since your dad was used to only cooking for the two of you, but you gave Tom a little extra when you were done. You mostly talked about what you were planning to do – you were going to go out to Salem and take some pictures and go through some of the museums, since Tom had always wanted to go, and within the next couple of days you were going to go downtown and have dinner somewhere nice.

Your dad had to admit that he was kind of lonely since Tom had come down. He didn’t regret bringing him, but he definitely wished you would at least stick around with him for a little while. He asked if you two wanted to have a game night and the two of you agreed before parting ways. You spent probably an hour trying to find the perfect outfit before driving out to Salem.

You eventually texted him saying you’d found a cool restaurant and wouldn’t be home until late, so you wanted to reschedule game night. Of course your dad said it was fine – you barely ever saw your boyfriend. But was he a little sad? Definitely. You were his best friend, apart from Dodger, and not having you around as much just because of a boy was a new and unfamiliar feeling.

“You wanna go throw the ball?” He asked the dog, trying to get him riled up. But Dodger didn’t want to play, and instead burrowed his head in your dad’s thigh. He just wanted more pets. “Fine. Come on.”

You got home a few hours later, a little bit too late for your dad’s liking, but you’d brought him some cookies from a witch themed bakery so how could he be mad? He saw the two of you cuddled up in your bed again and decided to just take the loss and go to bed. And the next day was basically the same – you were gone most of the day, you came home late, and you were absolutely glued to Tom. You had a few friends over that night to introduce them and he just hid in the office. Teenagers were scary, first of all.

“Hey,” you said the fourth morning, the day before Tom had to go on to Los Angeles before going back to London. Tom had a few meetings that morning, so you were letting him sleep in, and you were planning on going on a Starbucks run.

“Hey,” your dad said back.

“I was going on a Starbucks run, do you wanna come?” You asked. He looked back at you, noticing that you were wearing your own clothes for once.

“Sure, we waiting for Tom?”

“No, he’s sleeping. He has a few meetings later, so I told him to sleep in a little.” Your dad nodded. You would do the same thing for him – make him sleep in until the last possible minute, get him some coffee, make breakfast, and just make sure he had enough rest. Your mom used to do the same thing, too.

“Okay. You wanna drive?” You held your keys up, saying you’d drive, and the two of you filed out to your car. “You didn’t ask me just so you could bum some gas money off of me, did you?” You giggled and started driving.

“No. If I was going to do that, I would’ve gone out to Concord,” you said as you started driving. He laughed, knowing that it’s exactly what you would’ve done. He checked his phone to see that your aunt had texted him back, saying that he was being slightly ridiculous about everything. He’d admitted to her that he missed you, even though it was only for a few days, and he was getting jealous. You tried not to kiss in front of him, and you waited until he was completely out of the house to do anything else, but both you and Tom were always holding hands or cuddled up together or something. It was making him go a little crazy, if he was going to fully admit it.

“So how are things?” He asked you as you pulled into the long drive-thru line, going on your phone to re-fill your gift card through the app.

“What do you mean?” You asked, looking over at him.

“Oh, come on. You two have been everywhere the past few days. You haven’t even said hi to me.” It took you a second to understand what he meant, and your jaw dropped when you realized.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” You asked, half amused and half sympathetic.

“What? No way!”

“You’re so jealous.” You took your foot off the brake to move forward for another car. “You’re really jealous of me and my boyfriend that I see once every four months?” He sighed. His face was going red.

“Well, now I sound like an asshole!”

“Aww, you’re really jealous? Dad, you should’ve just said something. Are you sad ‘cause we cancelled game night?”

“I just feel like a third wheel when you’re here and I feel jealous when you’re not. It’s a me thing, sweetie, you really don’t need to worry about it. Your old man will be fine. He’s just not used to another guy being in your life.”

“Aww, Dad.”

“Now you’re looking at me like I’m a puppy.” You pulled up to order, scanning your phone, and then you turned back to him.

“Well, after Tom’s meeting we were going to hike later and we were thinking of taking Dodger since they’re dog friendly. Do you want to come? And then we can have a game night when we get back?”

The answer was an immediate yes. As soon as you got back to the house, Tom grabbed his coffee and gave you a quick kiss before tuning into his meeting. You and your dad went to the garage to find the old board games, picking some out for later. And Tom was actually excited to have him come along – they had worked together, after all – and your dad didn’t complain one bit when you asked him to take pictures of the two of you at the waterfall when you got there. You made your dad take some with you, too, and then one of all three of you to post on your Instagram.

You made it back to the house and everyone showered off, you ordered pizza, and your dad even let you have a cold beer as you played one of your favorite board games. Tom was actually the first to retire, since he had an early flight, and you promised him you’d be up after you helped your dad clean. You helped your dad find all of the pieces and fake money and started putting them up, kneeling on the floor next to Dodger’s bed.

“Feel like a third wheel still?” You asked your dad. He smiled.

“You guys are gross. But you’re not completely intolerable, I’ll give you that.” You smiled back. “Thanks for making some time for your old man.”

“You can third wheel any day,” you said. “I’m sorry you felt left out. But you’re still my favorite person.” He messed up your hair and jerked your hoodie over your face to make you laugh.

“Yeah, you’re mine, too. Bring it in.” You gave him a massive hug.

“Thank you for bringing my boyfriend to me.”

“I just wanna see you happy. You know that.” You resisted to tell him that you were happy. The happiest you’d been in a long time. You had your two favorite men in the entire world with you, even just for a little bit, and you were happy.

A/N: I definitely combined two requests with this (one for Chris finding you sad because you miss your boyfriend and another about him getting jealous of you and said boyfriend’s PDA), so I hope you both like them! I thought they went so well together!

Taglist (if you’d like to be added, just send me a message or an ask!): @an-adventureland, @firstangeldragonranch, @ssebstann, @winterreader-nowwriter

#chris evans fluff #chris evans x daughter!reader #chris evans imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff

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dailytomlinson · 4 years ago

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In the spring of 2012, I spent a few entertaining days hanging out with the five young members of a British boy band who were just breaking big in the United States. The guys from One Direction were unjaded, unguarded, totally charming, and a puppy pile of optimism and energy. On April 8th, in a New York City hotel room, Harry Styles and Niall Horan, both 18, sat down with me for a joint interview, published here for the first time. (The reporting was intended for a Rolling Stone cover story that never ran.)

What did you do at the gym last night? Harry: One of our security guys, his friend’s over, he’s a personal trainer, so I was working with him, and he ripped me to shreds.

Have you seen whole episodes of it?

Harry: I’ve watched a lot of clips on YouTube. They don’t show it in the U.K.

Growing up, when did you realize you could sing or that you wanted to sing?Harry: I sang in primary school, like the school productions, plays and stuff.

What was your first one? Harry: The first one was … I was five, and there was a story about a mouse who lived in a church, and I was Barney, the mouse. I had to wear my sister’s tights, and a headband with ears on it, and I had to sing a song all by myself. I remember it was just like, whatever.… In the second, I was Buzz Lightyear in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. So you know when they run and hide in the toy shop? Buzz Lightyear was in the toy shop, so they just created my character. The last one, I was in … you know Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat? I was the pharaoh, but I was an Elvis pharaoh.

Did you have a sense that this is what you wanted to do in your life? Harry: I think in school I was OK, I wasn’t a bad student. I think I just knew I wanted to entertain people and stuff. I was a bit of an attention-seeker at school.

Niall: Me, too. I just talked too much, sang too much.

What did you sing? Harry: We sang “Are You Gonna Be My Girl” by Jet, and “Summer of ’69.” We did it more towards the Bowling For Soup version.

Harry: [helpfully translating] Soccer.

Who told you? Niall: My French teacher. We used to do talent shows and stuff at school, she was like, “You should do it,” so I did it.

Harry: I had to wait a little bit, I think.

Harry: They film it.

Niall: In England, it’s the biggest thing ever. It took a while to build.

Harry: The two or three years were steady, and third or fourth, it just blew up.

Niall: It works that one in three people in the UK watch it. There’s 60 million people in the UK, and 21 million people watched the final the year we were in it.

Harry, your band also played at least one wedding right? Harry: Yeah. We actually said that we’d do the wedding gig, and…

Niall: You get paid for it?

Niall: Can you imagine you’re at a wedding and you have 16-year-old kids up on the stage?

Maybe you were really good! Harry: Yeah, the drummer is one of my best friends from school, he’s a sick drummer, he’s so good.

What do your parents do? Harry: My mum is a PA. My dad is a financial adviser.

How about you? Niall: My dad works at a supermarket, he’s the head manager, general manager of an area, not just one, and my mum is unemployed now, so I try to help them out whenever I can.

You probably can. That must be nice. Niall: Yeah, it’s nice, it’s good.

Plus, now you can tell them what to do. Harry: [laughs] “Now you go to bed.”

Niall: I never went through that.

Harry: Not stupid heavy, but a bit… just because I thought it was cool.

Like what? Harry: Like Nirvana T-shirts, wore black all the time, pretty much.

Did you both grow up in your moms’ houses? Harry: Yeah.

People say you come off as more mature than your age, you come off wiser. Did hanging around all those people as a kid help you mature?

So you grew up on Elvis and the Stones? Harry: Yeah, pretty much. My dad was a massive Stones fan, so it was pretty much Beatles and Stones in terms of what my dad played.

People say you kind of look like Mick.

Niall: He gets that a lot.

Harry: I get it more here, probably, than I do at home. It’s because of the British thing.

Harry: We’re living on our own now.

Niall: We just started living on our own in the last six months, really.

Harry: I’m moving when I get back.

Do you want to act? It feels like you could have your own TV show. Harry: I think it would be more of a documentary, because obviously, we’re not actors.

People must want you to try. Niall: Watch tonight, tell us what you think. Watch SNL.

Will you all make solo albums? Is that inevitable? Harry: No, I don’t think so.

Niall: Let’s do a swing album!

Niall: If there was eight days, we’d fit it in.

Harry: It’s not as completely glamorous all the time, of course it’s not, it would be stupid to think that it would be, but it’s hard work.

In any case, it’s probably better than the bakery. Harry: Yeah. But I don’t get a nice bun on my break anymore, that’s the thing.

Did you wear an apron? Harry: Oh yeah, I wore a white polo shirt and a maroon apron with white stripes. “What would you like? 78 pence, thank you very much.”

Were you behind the counter? Harry: Yeah, I was behind the counter. It was good. It was Saturday morning, I started at five and finished at four in the afternoon and got like 30 quid, it was a joke.

Niall, did you have a job? Niall: No, never.

So this is your first job. Niall: Yeah, not bad at all. I was chilling, I was being a kid.

Harry: I had a paper route before that. It gave me a bad back, bad posture. It was a heavy bag.

Ringo would say, “It’s just me face.” Niall: “Who’s that little old man?” [quoting Hard Day’s Night]

Harry: “That’s Paul’s grandfather. He’s very clean.”

Sometimes you can drift off, that’s just your thing. Harry: [laughs] I’m just soulful, man, I try.

Harry, do you mind when you’re singled out for attention? Harry: I don’t know. I don’t really…I don’t know. We’re a band. Everything we do is together. I don’t take much notice of it.

So you’re not the Justin. Harry: No.

Niall: J.C. was popular, too, wasn’t he?

It’s not like that for you guys. Harry: Not at all.

There was an imbalance in that group. Harry: I think we find it important that people get to know all of our individual personalities, because…

Harry: We all know that we all have our roles, and we all know that without one of us, it wouldn’t work.

#brian hiatt #rolling stone #harry styles #niall horan #press #230720 #10years1d

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myhockeyworld87 · 5 years ago

Text

Right One - Josh Anderson

Word Count: 4,063

POV: Josh

Warnings: Language

Notes: Just felt like writing something that wasn’t Tyler Seguin...haha So here you here’s a little Josh Anderson for anyone interested. Happy Reading!

The game against the Devils had been hard-fought, but thankfully you guys ended up with the win. Luckily, you had a couple days before your next game. Once the media finally left the locker room, a more relaxed atmosphere filled the air. "So, where are we celebrating tonight?" You inquired of Seth.

"Sorry man I'm out tonight. I've got plans."

"Gettin' some tonight, huh Seth?" This from Boone, at least you could count on him to party with tonight.

"It's not like that, man. (Y/N)'s one of my best friends and she just got a job at OSU. I'm taking her out to dinner to welcome her to town and celebrate."

"Looks like it's just me and you then Boone. Where should we go?" You threw your jacket on and grabbed your bag, getting ready to head out the door. Seth and Boone a few steps behind you. When you opened the door, there stood the most beautiful girl you'd ever seen. She was wearing a skin-tight white sweater, that showed off her well-endowed breasts and her midriff, with a pair of skinny jeans and heeled boots. But it wasn't just her body that caught your attention it was her smile. She could literally light up a room, with that smile of hers, and at that moment it was directed at you. You felt it all the down to your toes, and at that moment you knew that she was the one you'd been praying to come into your life. That was until Seth moved past you and wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in a huge hug.

"Seth, you played amazing tonight." Her voice was like an angel's, and you wondered what it would sound like simply saying your name. "Though I still think that high sticking penalty in the second was bullshit."

"I know right. Hischier totally lifted it." Seth pulled back from their embrace before saying. "So, you got into town ok, obviously."

"Yeah, the moving company should be here tomorrow."

"Sorry I wasn't here when you got here yesterday." Seth apologized, then slung his arm around her shoulders. "But to make it up to you, I made dinner reservations at the best restaurant in town."

"Excellent, because stale beer and nachos in the second period aside, I'm starving."

They turned to walk out to the parking garage, and you felt her slipping away. You went to say something, but Boone's voice interjected. "Hey Jonsey, aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Oh right. I totally forgot you guys never met (Y/N). (Y/N) this is Boone Jenner and Josh Anderson; guys this is (Y/F/L/N) my oldest friend."

She held out her hand first to Boone, then to you. Her skin was soft and as you whispered hello, you realized you didn't want to let go. She was looking at you finally, her smile warm and inviting, and you found yourself smiling back in return. But then she released you and turned back to Seth. "It's nice to meet some of Seth's teammates finally."

"And how is it that we're only meeting you now?" It was a question you had on your lips, only Boone was the one asking it, as you stood there mute.

"Miss Smartypants here has been teaching at Oxford for the last couple years, but we were finally able to lure her back to the states, though I know she considers it slumming."

"Haha…you're so funny Mr. Hockey. I've been wanting to come back for a while and you know it. Though you haven't convinced me yet, that you didn't make this opening at OSU happen."

"If I was capable of that, I would've done it when I first got here and not a couple years later." You weren't entirely sure that things were platonic between Seth and (Y/N). Comments like that seemed more intimate, than just friendship. "But we can talk about that over dinner. We better get going if we're going to make those reservations."

"You could just come out with us?" They were the first words you uttered, other than 'hi,' and though you didn't want them to leave; you felt like an idiot just standing there when she looked at you.

"And where exactly are you two headed? Out to pick up women I suspect." She giggled. Little did she know other women were the furthest thing from your mind.

"We hadn't really picked a place yet. Just going out to celebrate the win." Her eyes were still focused on you, and you liked having all of her attention.

"Will there be something other than bar food at this yet to be established destination? Because this one promised me an actual meal." She playfully swatted Seth in the chest, and you wished it was you she was touching. "Hopefully that means something that isn't actually made in a deep fryer."

Before you could say anything at all, Seth spoke up. "Why don't we compromise? Dinner first, then we can hit a club."

The whole thing sounded perfect to you, as it meant you would get more time with (Y/N). "Sounds good, though I'm not sure I can be a wing woman for all of you." She sent you a quick wink. Was she feeling the same thing you were? That instant connection.

"Ok now that, that's settle. Let's get going." The four of you headed out of the arena and piled into Seth's car. Luckily, the restaurant was accommodating and able to put you all in a quiet spot. The corner booth provided privacy while allowing you to be close to (Y/N), as you chose to scoot in next her. She smelled of lavender, a fragrance you normally didn't prefer but on her it was intoxicating. Though it was a struggle to just not reach out and touch her. If this was a date, your hand would be on her thigh or entwined with hers, but this wasn't a date; this was the first time you were meeting this woman.

"So Josh, Boone, give me some scoop on this one." Her words brought you out of your musings. "Has anyone captured his attention?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at Seth when you wanted it to be directed at you.

"Geez (Y/N), give me a break. Don't you think I'd tell you if I'd met someone special?" She seemed to accept his answer, but Seth quickly added. "Besides I have you as a backup."

"A backup?" The words were out of your mouth before you could take them back, but damnit you wanted to know if there was something more than friendship going on between them.

She playfully swatted at Seth's shoulder. "Please, like you need me for a backup." She turned towards you then. "Sorry, I didn't mean to not answer you. It's a stupid promise we made when we were fourteen." She thought for a moment before continuing. "God, what was his name?"

"Michael Billington," Seth spat out.

"Right, I can't believe you remember that. Anyway, Michael totally broke my heart at the ripe old age of fourteen." She patted your thigh, the contact going straight to your groin. "As you can see I'm still not over it." Her hand left and you thought you'd die from the loss. "I ended up crying on Seth's shoulder that night, and we made a pact that if neither of us was married by thirty we'd get hitched."

"By my calculations, you've only got four years to find Mr. Right or you're going to be Mrs. Jones." Seth quipped back to her.

"Please I have until you turn thirty, which is closer to five years, and who says I'd take your last name. You'd probably take mine." They both laughed at that, though you really didn't find the conversation funny at all. Their friendship seemed to be a bit more than your original assessment. "Besides I have a feeling some puck bunny will snatch you up and you'll be her problem, not mine."

"I save the puck bunnies for these two." Great now your best friend was throwing you under the bus. So you'd been a bit of womanizer in your past; that was only because you hadn't met the right one. Yet that might have changed tonight when you met (Y/N). Though you needed to defend yourself first.

"Come on man, that's not fair. It's not like that, right Boone?"

"No, Seth pretty much got it right. I mean isn't that why we're going to the club tonight?" He was going to pay for that comment at practice in the morning.

"You don't really need to hear about these guys sexcapades." Seth quickly tried to change the subject.

"Sexcapades huh? No, I think I definitely need to hear about this." Her curiosity was piqued and you wondered how to turn this night back around before it went south.

"Oh no we're not going there." You added. "What about you (Y/N)? Seth said you were in England, any British men catch your fancy, so to say."

She giggled, the sound sweet and melodic. "If they had, I wouldn't be here, surrounded by you three hunks." You were relieved to find out that she didn't have some British nob waiting for her, across the pond. The conversation at dinner flowed so easily; you almost didn't want it to end. It was nice just having her here mainly to yourself, instead of fighting off random men for her attention. It was bad enough vying for it with Seth and Boone.

Too soon for your liking dinner ended and the four of you headed to a club that you frequented. The music was loud and the dance floor was crowded, but thankfully there was a VIP section, that you were able to make your way to. Boone ordered everyone a round of drinks and shots. "Here's to a great win tonight and to my best friend finally moving to Columbus," Seth announced, and you all cheers before slinging down the burning liquid.

"Damn Boone, what the hell was that shit?" You asked him, coughing a bit from the bad alcohol you'd just drank. (Y/N) was already chasing it down with her other drink.

"I did not order that shit. I specifically asked for 1942 Don Julio. I'm gonna go see what the hell happened."

"Hold up, I'm going with you because this does not taste like what I ordered either," Seth told him before the two took off, leaving you and (Y/N) alone. She was swaying to the music as she sat on the sofa and you wondered what she'd look like when her whole body moved.

"Do you want to dance?"

"Took you long enough to ask Andy." She quipped, using your nickname, which out of her mouth was completely adorable. You took her hand and led her just past the roped-off area, close enough that Seth and Boone would know where you went. Dancing with a Stranger was playing and you raised your joined hands as you started to move to the beat. Her body swayed to the rhythm and you found your free hand reaching for her waist; pulling her close to you. Her hips gyrated with yours and her arm skated around your neck. She was intoxicating, the way she moved, the smile on her face; just everything about her spoke to you on some other level. You'd only had her in your arms a few moments, but you knew you never wanted to let her go.

She spun around then, her backside now grinding into your crotch; while your arm sat low on her hips holding her close. You leaned down, half tempted to whisper in her ear how much you wanted her; but that damn lavender scent of hers engulfed you, even though the smell of alcohol and sweat permeated the air. You wanted to drink her in, and get drunk solely on being in her presence alone. Instead you were stuck holding her tight against you in a crowded club.

The music shifted and so did she in your arms, as she twisted back around front. "Don't look now, but the girl at your two o'clock is staring at you like a starving dog." You moved your head to see who (Y/N) was talking about, even though she was the only one who you wanted to spend the rest of the night staring at. "I said not to look." (Y/N) chuckled and you joined in. "So should I be a good wing-woman and help you get her, now that you've checked her out."

God that was the last thing that you wanted, for (Y/N) was the only woman who'd captured your attention and there was no one in this club or on the planet for that matter that you wanted to be with but her. An easy 'no' fell from your lips before you even really figured out which girl (Y/N) was talking about. "Really? I don't think it would be a hard sell." This time when you looked your saw who she meant, a groan escaped your lips. "Ah, so that was a death glare she was giving me; I take it?"

"Yeah, probably." (Y/N) cocked her head in question for you to explain further. "Her name is Carmen, and she's one of those puck bunnies you were talking about earlier. She's been trying to get her hooks into me for weeks."

"Oh, well in that case let's give her a show." She wrapped her arms around your neck and grinded down on you, making your cock go from stiff to rock solid. "Put your hands on my ass." You blinked down at her, but who were you to argue with such demands. With her breasts pressed against you and the cheeks of her bottom in your hands, you were struggling not to just lift her up and take her to the nearest quiet corner. "Is she still watching?"

You weren't even paying any attention to Carmen. Why would you, when you had everything you wanted in your arms, but for (Y/N)'s sake you looked over to check. "God, she's actually coming this way."

"Kiss me."

"What?"

"Kiss me, so she thinks we're together." You didn't move, so she reached her hands up to the nape of your neck and brought your lips down to hers. It wasn't how you wanted your first kiss with her to be, yet her lips were soft and pliant beneath yours. You couldn't help how your hands pressed her body even closer to yours. Her lips molded to yours and you felt her melt into your arms. The kiss shifted then, it was no longer about pretending, but purely about two people that wanted each other, no needed each other. The music around you was deafening but you heard the slight moan she gave above it all. You took full advantage, sweeping your tongue inside her mouth to tangle with hers. She tasted of alcohol and faintly of the chocolate cake she'd had at dinner, and something that was purely her. You were lost in her and you never wanted to be found.

You were so focused on (Y/N) and everything about her, that you forgot where were until some drunk bumped into the two of you spilling their drink partially on you both; causing you to break the kiss. It didn't matter that your pant leg was half soaked, all you could do was stare down at the beautiful woman in front of you. Her lips slightly swollen from the kiss, and a look of awe on her face. Neither of you recovered quickly, and you knew you should've said something but all you could think of was how badly you wanted to kiss her again.

She cleared her throat, effectively breaking the spell going on between the two of you. "Well, um…" You weren't sure what else she was going to say, but you knew if it was negative you didn't want to hear it.

"That had nothing to do with Carmen." You told her, being completely honest. Her mouth formed an 'O' yet no sound came out. There was so much more you wanted to say, but it didn't happen as Seth and Boone joined you then.

"Did we miss anything?" Seth asked, as he placed a hand on your shoulder giving you a squeeze and pointedly looked at where your hands were, which happened to still be glued to (Y/N)'s ass. You immediately released her though regretted it.

(Y/N) answered him first. "Just saving Andy here from the wolves." She skated one arm down yours to entwine with your fingers, then took the other to pull Seth nearer to her. "The wolf's name is Carmen." She stated, nodding her head in the direction Carmen previously was, but now was nowhere to be found.

Just the mention of Carmen's name and understanding dawned on Seth, even though there was more to the story than what was being told. "Gotcha. Well we have drinks back at the table."

"Great. I'll be right there, just going to freshen up." She squeezed your hand, then headed off, and though you knew she'd only be gone a few minutes; you felt an overwhelming desire to run after her just so you could kiss her again. Instead, you went back to the table with Seth, where Boone was flirting with some brunette.

Taking a long swig of your drink, you sat down, only to hear Seth say. "So, care to tell me what's really going?"

You set the glass back before you had a chance to down the entire contents. "I like her. What else can I say? But if you tell me right now that, you're secretly in love with her or something; I'll back off."

Seth rolled his eyes. "I do love her." God, you felt your heart literally sink to the floor, and you found yourself picking the glass back up and bringing it to your lips, which still burned from kissing her. "But like a sister." Just like that you brought the drink back down, to look over at your friend. "And before you say anything, that means I won't tolerate you treating her like some one-night stand. She's special Josh."

"You don't think I noticed that." You raked a hand through your hair, more frustrated at yourself for not being able to explain the things you were feeling for a woman you'd only just met. "I saw that the minute I came out of the locker room and she was standing there. It's only been more evident throughout the night. She's amazing Seth." You had to be sure, he knew you'd walk away if there was something between them. "You're positive it's just a brother/sister thing?"

"Look, I won't lie. We tried it once." Now that you knew the truth, you weren't sure you wanted to hear it. "We were eighteen, and I felt like she was slipping away going off to college and all. It was awful." He chuckled and part of you felt relief that you weren't going to be competing with one of your best friends. "We realized then, that we were always going to be friends and nothing more." He slapped you on the shoulder before continuing. "But seriously man, you may be the better fighter of the two of us. Though I'm telling you now, I will literally beat the living shit out of you if you break her heart."

"Noted." You went to say more but he stopped you yet again.

"It took me a long time to convince her to come back to the states. Don't fuck this up."

"Jesus, I don't even know if she likes me."

"She does. I can see it." Now that was something that you finally wanted to hear.

"You really think so?"

"Dude, calm down. You sound like you're five or something." Seth took a long drink before actually answering your question, enjoying making you wait. "Yeah, I really do." He shrugged then. "I saw her kiss you and I saw the look on her face afterward, but you can find out for yourself because here she comes."

You watched as (Y/N) moved through the crowd to make it back to your seats. "What I miss?" She asked as she took the seat next to you.

"Oh, not much," Seth said handing her a drink, and sending you a sly glance.

"Doesn't seem like that." She added with that cute little giggle of hers. "Please tell me you didn't have a run-in with that Carmen girl while I was gone." Actually, you'd forgotten all about her.

"No, thank god," Seth answered. "Though I do see her and her friends staring at us." You followed Seth's vision and sure enough there she was glaring over more at (Y/N) then either him or Seth. "If this wasn't your first night out in Columbus; I'd be suggesting we call it a night." You were inclined to agree.

"Hey no need to stay on my account. I'm literally still on London time, which means my carriage turned into a pumpkin a few hours ago. I'd rather party when I didn't think that it was six in the morning." Both you and Seth laughed at her comment. "Laugh all you want, but one of you two will be carrying me back to the hotel when I fall asleep here." You had no qualms with carrying her anywhere though your bed was your preferred choice.

"In this noise? You'll never fall asleep. I know you and you don't even like the tv on to sleep." Seth quipped to her and you stored the knowledge away. "Let me go see what Romeo over there wants to do and I'll be back." He headed over to Boone leaving you and (Y/N) alone, which provided you the perfect opportunity to talk to her.

"So, about earlier." You started and she nodded. "I didn't want it to be like that…kissing you that is." Her eyes widen and you could tell she misunderstood what you were trying to say. "It's not that I didn't want to kiss you…" You blew out a frustrated breath, before raking your hands through your hair. "I mean I want to kiss you…fuck…I just…well, I like you, and well…I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go out. Just the two of us, where I can kiss you properly." There you'd said it all. It was a jumbled mess, but at least you'd asked her out. The problem now was that she wasn't saying anything in return, and now you were worried you didn't make yourself clear. "So…um…would you like to go out with me?"

A small smile spread across her features and you took that as a good sign. "You're really cute when you're flustered. Do you know that?" You could feel a blush rising to your cheeks. "I like you too Josh, but…" She looked over at Seth and then it occurred to you that maybe she had feelings for him.

"I didn't realize there was…."

"No!" She said quickly. "There's not. Seth is my best friend and that's all. I just don't know how he'd feel about me dating one of his teammates."

"Well if it helps, he told me he'd kick my ass if I hurt you."

She shook her head as a light chuckle escaped her lips. "God, he never changes. He used to say that to every guy I dated growing up, but I'll take that as him giving us his blessing. So, if that's the case, then…Yeah, I'd love to go on a date with you."

"Really?" You were completely elated but wanted to be one hundred percent sure.

"Yes really. I like you Josh." She reached over and kissed your cheek. "And just so you know. I don't regret kissing you on the dance floor, but I understand that you didn't want it to be our first. So let's just consider that practice, until you take me out."

Seth came back then, with Boone falling behind. "Everyone ready to go?"

You laced your fingers with (Y/N)'s and the four of you headed out the door. Tonight had proved to be more of a win for you than just in hockey and you couldn't wait for your next matchup with the girl on your arm, because for some reason you thought you’d finally found the right one.

#Josh Anderson #josh anderson imagine #Josh Anderson Imagines #Columbus Blue Jackets #Columbus Blue Jackets Imagine #Columbus Blue Jackets Imagines #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction

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hazelcmist · 4 years ago

Text

A Cure for Christmas

Summary: Two Brits grounded and stranded in the middle of Nowhere, North Carolina during a ‘blizzard’ and there’s only one loaf of bread, one carton of milk and one hotel room left to share. Whatever will they do?

Pairing: Ten x Rose

31 days of Ficmas: Snowed In

@doctorroseprompts

The disastrous day began in the Heathrow airport. Normally, John Smith – the Doctor to his friends and colleagues – enjoyed traveling and took all the delays in stride, but Gallifrey Inc. was threatening to pull the plug on his latest vaccine that could improve and save the lives of millions world-wide. The vaccine had spent the last six months in the development stages, but the new CEO of Saxon Inc. had abruptly cut 75% of their funding. The stocks of Gallifrey Inc. had plummeted and the Doctor and Gallifrey Inc. were floundering. The start-up company had invested everything into the Doctor’s latest vaccine, but if they couldn’t find an immediate investor, Gallifrey Inc. would be bankrupt by the end of the year and the much-needed vaccine would never be completed.

Any hopes of salvaging his career, completing the vaccine, and rescuing the company that had taken him in like a family from financial ruin was now pinned on one company that had shown some recent interest in the vaccine.

Vitex.

Vitex’s CEO was currently at their American headquarters in Los Angeles. Donna Noble generally handled this sort of thing, but Pete Tyler had requested to meet the Doctor himself, and Donna had Bronchitis. The Doctor loved traveling, but he was anxious about the meeting and he was already running behind schedule.

Thanks to Donna’s brilliance, the Doctor had managed to get on one of the few direct flights to LAX, but the departure kept getting pushed back. By the time the pretty blonde fetched up against the bar and rammed her valise into his kneecap, the Doctor had been waiting for three hours and was two banana daiquiris deep at the airport bar.

“Oi! Mind the knees!”

She whipped around and the Doctor’s breath caught in his throat.

“Sorry,” she said with a dazzling apologetic smile. “Lost my balance. Think I broke one of my heels running through the airport,” she confessed with a wince.

“Let me take a look,” he offered before he could stop himself.

The Doctor was usually quite good with fixing things, but unfortunately this innate ability did not extend to women’s footwear.

Twenty minutes later, she was barefoot and sharing a stool with him at the packed bar, and they had yet another round of banana daiquiris in front of them.

“’s not your fault,” she assured him, patting his leg. The Doctor tried to disguise the shiver that went through him at her touch.

“I broke your other heel too,” he lamented.

“’s okay,” she said, squeezing his knee, “I hate high heels, can’t run in them.”

The Doctor gazed out at the crowd passing in and out of the duty-free shop across the way and a brilliant idea occurred to him.

“Wait here,” he instructed her.

He was back in a jiffy with a newly purchased pair of Chucks for her. They even matched her red blouse. She laughed when he made sure to point this out to her and launched into a lecture on the merits of proper footwear and little shops in airports. The Doctor wished he could’ve recorded that laugh and could’ve bottled the feeling that it evoked inside of him.

Suddenly, the crew announced that they were preparing for boarding.

“Sorry, I’ve got to run for my life,” he said, throwing some money down on the bar to cover both drinks.

It didn’t occur to him until he was seated at the back of the plane with his nose in a book and a warm tingly feeling resonating in his chest that he’d felt so comfortable with her, and yet he hadn’t even learned her name.

The flight was a nightmare. Rose loved travelling and was looking forward to seeing her father and finally getting a tour of Los Angeles and the new Vitex Headquarters, but the flight had been turbulent and in spite of everything Rose had tried to do to help, her seatmate had gotten violently ill. She hadn’t been the only one. The plane was forced to make an emergency landing because of the inclement weather and one of the flight attendants suddenly taking ill as well. Rose was seated in first class and was therefore one of the first to exit the plane, only after another flight attendant assured her that the other woman would be fine and was being seen to by a doctor.

Rose didn’t know where they ended up, but it became immediately clear judging from the empty terminal, that this place was a far cry from Heathrow. All of the gates were empty, save for a few sparrows that were hopping from seat to seat, eagerly looking for crumbs.

“Where are we?” Rose wondered aloud.

“No idea,” a voice said cheerfully and Rose turned to find the bloke from the airport bar beaming at her. “Hello again,” he greeted her, wiggling his fingers.

“Hello,” Rose echoed, smiling widely. He had some great hair, some really great hair. She honestly wasn’t sure how long they stood there staring at each other as the rest of the passengers flowed around them and ran for the baggage claim and the customer service desk.

“Nice Chucks,” he complimented her with a wink.

“Thanks,” she said with a touch-touched grin that caused him to sway toward her as if she was magnetic. “’m Rose,” she introduced herself.

“I’m the Doctor,” he said, taking her hand. The way his fingers curled around hers, felt right, so right that she was reluctant to let go.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

“Starved,” Rose admitted. “I want chips.”

“Allonsy,” he said, leading the way. “Let’s go find a chippie.”

It quickly became clear that they were not in London anymore.

“Closed?” The Doctor sputtered for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. “What do you mean you’re closed?”

“It’s gonna snow,” the manager of the fourth and final place to eat explained with a shrug. “The whole airport’s shutting down.

“But what about our flight?”

The manager shrugged again.

“It’ll be rescheduled,” he grunted, “Maybe in a few days?”

“A few days?” The Doctor’s jaw dropped, but the manager was already pushing past him with his staff eagerly following him out of the terminal.

Rose and the Doctor discovered that while they’d wasted their time tracking down all four of the places that served food, their fellow passengers had been discussing and making rearrangements. By the time they got to the last couple of harried airport employees, there wasn’t much left.

“We don’t know when the next flight out will be,” the kindly representative, Lynda explained to them and one other passenger in a ballcap. “They’re saying we could get six inches of snow.”

“Six? That’s it?” barked the passenger with a nasally accent next to them, “Where I come from, that’s nothing. Let me tell you about the blizzard of ’78. I had to dig myself out of a snow drift eight feet high and walk all the way to the packie for a six-pack of beer-”

“We only have five snow plows for the entire state and one of them got hit by a truck yesterday,” Lynda interrupted him. “But they salted the roads two days ago, so hopefully we’ll be up and running by Wednesday.”

“Two days ago!” the passenger barked. “What the fuck is that supposed to do? Do you guys even know how to de-ice a plane? Does anyone here even own an ice scraper? Or a shovel?”

“If the snow sticks and we get as much as they’re predicting,” Lynda explained to a very confused Rose and the Doctor, “The whole state will shut down for the next forty-eight hours, possibly longer depending on how quickly it melts. I’m sorry. I can put you up in a room in the hotel across the road, courtesy of British Airways, but I’ve only got one room left.”

Rose and the Doctor were too stunned to disagree. With a few clicks the agent had arranged for them to share a room for a night, possibly two, depending on the weather.

“There’s a convenience store right outside the hotel,” she informed them, “I’d recommend stocking up on supplies before we get snowed in and they close.”

“Where’s the nearest Dunkin’ Donuts? What about Market Basket?” the other man was demanding as Rose and the Doctor gathered up their baggage and hurried out before the shop closed.

Luckily the hotel was in walking distance, but the shop was attached to a petrol station. Rose and the Doctor were shocked by the amount of cars lined up for petrol and the amount of people who left their cars running to do their shopping. The shop was small, but what little they had was swept up into the arms of anxious, fearful people prepared to weather an apocalypse. Surely, Rose and the Doctor must’ve heard the weather reports wrong, because the shelves were practically bare. One of the clerks told them that a fist fight had nearly erupted over the last case of water. All that remained now was one slightly smooshed loaf of bread and a carton of milk that had the sell by date rubbed off.

The Doctor opened the milk up, sniffed it, and decided that it would do. He added the last three jars of some weird organic jam to their basket as well, ignoring Rose’s roll of her eyes when he insisted on opening that up to sample as well.

The Doctor actually crowed in triumph when the shopkeeper brought out some bananas that had been missed in the back. But once Rose confessed that she’d actually brought tea and biscuits from home at her father’s request, the Doctor gave her a smile so blindingly bright that her face warmed.

“Rose,” he gushed, taking her hand and swinging it between them, “You are fantastic!”

They left the shop together just as it was beginning to snow. Tiny flurries drifted down around them and the Doctor made a dramatic show of trying to catch them on his tongue. He kept her laughing right up until they approached the front desk of the hotel and found out they’d been given a room.

A room with only one bed.

“Are you sure there aren’t any other rooms available?” the Doctor asked the concierge. But the man apologized that they were all booked up because of the grounded flights and the ‘blizzard’ coming in.

“Isn’t it exciting? They’re saying we could get up to a foot of snow!” the concierge squealed, “I’ve never seen snow before. I can’t wait to build my first snowman!” He clapped his hands together enthusiastically, oblivious to Rose and the Doctor’s strained smiles as they considered the prospect of sharing a hotel room and a bed with a stranger for multiple nights.

The lift was small, but their room seemed even smaller to Rose once the door clicked shut behind them. Logically Rose knew the hotel room was probably larger than most of the rooms she’d stayed in over the last few years, but she didn’t think the Doctor had been quite so tall, so manly and so attractive until they were in a confined space together.

And that was bad, very bad, because Rose had just gotten out of an awful relationship and she had no intention of starting another one. After Jimmy Stone, Rose didn’t want to even look at another man, let alone sleep in the same bed as one.

No matter how much more fit and brilliant the bloke appeared to be in comparison to her ex.

“I can sleep on the floor,” Rose offered generously at the same time as he did.

They looked at each other and then glanced away again with a bit of nervous laughter. The Doctor rubbed at the nape of his neck and Rose sat down on the edge of the bed to unlace her Chucks that unfortunately weren’t quite broken in yet. She couldn’t quite disguise a flinch as she removed her left shoe. The new shoes had made the blisters that had formed from her ruined heel worse.

“Mind if I take a look?” he offered, and Rose folded her arms over her chest.

“You broke my other heel,” she reminded him pointedly. “’m not sure I trust you around anything.

“I’m a Doctor,” he assured her, “Well, sort of,” he mollified removing a pair of specs from the inside of his suit jacket, “I have a Doctorate in Physics and Chemistry, but I only did a brief stint in Engineering, Astronomy and Medicine, but that has to count for something, right?”

Rose blinked at him and he took that as permission. Kneeling down on the carpet at her feet, he carefully examined her left foot. Her eyelids slid to half-mast as he started to massage her heel and the arch of her foot, and then her toes. She was practically purring by the time he finished up with one foot and moved onto the other.

“You spend a lot of time on your feet,” he noted, repeating the same glorious patterns on her right foot.

“Used to work in a shop, twelve-hour shifts, constantly running around,” she explained, suppressing a moan of pleasure as he hit just the right spot with his magical fingers. The Doctor must’ve caught the sound she made, because he abruptly released her foot and stood up.

“Right, well, it looks like as long as you don’t wear shoes for the next few days those blisters should heal up on their own,” he said, backing away from her. The room was so small that he didn’t get very far.

“Don’t think that should be much of a problem, seeing as we’re not going anywhere for the next couple of days,” Rose sighed and looked out the window. In the glow of lamplight in the car park, she could see the snowflakes coming down faster and heavier.

The Doctor stepped toward the window and pushed the curtains wide. If it kept snowing like this then there was no way he was going to get out in time to make his appointment with Pete Tyler, and if he didn’t get the funding for Vitex, his colleagues and friends were going to lose their jobs, and the Doctor would never get a chance to get the vaccine out for a disease that was affecting millions of lives.

“You alright?”

He turned around and found Rose, bathed in the soft ambient lighting of the hotel room. The red blouse paired beautifully with what was left of her lipstick and highlighted the healthy rosy flush to her cheeks. She’d taken her hair down from its updo and her hair was longer than he expected, spilling down over her shoulders.

Rose reminded him a bit of Reinette, but there was nothing fake about her or her beauty. Her kindness and the beating heart that it came from was all genuine. It was a shame he’d sworn off relationships after his affair with the Parisian had ended in heartbreak, because he already knew that Rose was beautiful inside and out.

“I’m fine,” he lied.

She gave him a skeptical look, but fortunately she didn’t press him as she gathered up her toiletries and a change of clothes.

“Gonna use the loo, unless…” She waited for him to object, but he motioned for her to go ahead.

And then he was left alone again to contemplate how he was about to lose everything he’d worked for over the last decade, letting down more and more people with every snowflake that piled up outside.

TO BE CONTINUED...

#31 days of ficmas #doctorroseprompts #fic and chips #my writing

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stevepotterwrites · 4 years ago

Text

A Review of David Lynch Biography/Memoir “Room to Dream”

As one might well expect from a book about the life and work of the eccentric auteur David Lynch, Room to Dream is by turns hilarious, heartbreaking, and a little strange. Biography and memoir in one, each chapter contains two sections separated by three or four pages of black-and-white photos from the time period covered in the chapter. First, we get a well-researched and clearly-presented biographical take featuring input from Lynch’s friends, family members, and collaborators. Former L.A. Times journalist Kristine McKenna does a fine job of keeping the story of Lynch’s improbable rise moving along. She gets out of the way and lets her interviewees do the talking when that’s best and weaves their recollections effectively giving us glimpses of the different stages of Lynch’s life and career from multiple angles. In the second section of each chapter, Lynch takes over and revisits the past in his own words. He goes into greater detail, sometimes, focusing on an aspect of the story that wasn’t covered in as much depth in Ms. McKenna’s section sometimes building on what others said. On a few occasions, he remembers things differently and disagrees with what others have said. For example, Lynch believes that Anthony Hopkins tried to get him fired from directing The Elephant Man. Ms. McKenna’s conclusion, based on her research, is that Hopkins complained bitterly about Lynch but stopped short of demanding he be fired and replaced. Who can really say for sure which account is closer to the truth? Either way, Lynch had the last laugh. The Elephant Man was a critical success and received eight Oscar nominations including Best Director. His career was launched. As much as one may be put off by Hopkins’ snotty attitude and presumption, regardless of whether or not he actually pushed to remove and replace Lynch or merely complained about him, his concern about being directed by a complete unknown isn’t really too surprising. Lynch was an inexperienced young director whose only full-length film was a bizarre, unclassifiable, no-budget, black-and-white surrealistic nightmare starring a bunch of actors no one had ever heard of before and which had only been shown as the midnight movie at a handful of art house theaters in the States. Yes, it’s recognized as a classic now and, yes, Lynch has become a legend, but at the time he was a completely unknown young American directing a cast of highly-acclaimed British actors including stage legend John Gielgud. Incredible. Thankfully, producer Mel Brooks had great faith in Lynch and admirably threw his full support behind him despite the reservations Hopkins and, quite likely, though less vocally, others had.Lynch’s rise was an astonishingly steep career trajectory by any measure. He made the animated short loop Six Men Getting Sick in 1966 and the live-action short The Grandmother in 1968 while a student at Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts in Philadelphia. Those opened the door to the American Film Institute in California where over a five-year period, on a tiny budget, with a small dedicated crew, he made Eraserhead. That film, in turn, convinced Mel Brooks that Lynch was the guy he was looking for to direct The Elephant Man starring his wife, Anne Bancroft, among many other fine performers. Then came hard lessons learned from the $40 million (estimate according to IMDb) big-budget disaster of Dune. Despite that not going so well, producer Dino De Laurentiis gave Lynch the go-ahead to direct Blue Velvet with full creative control. Lynch found his groove and went on to create the body of work he is best known for. What we see examples of repeatedly throughout Room to Dream that at least in part explains his success is how Lynch’s charisma, contagious enthusiasm for his projects, and dedication to his craft and vision engenders a sense of loyalty from his actors, crew and other collaborators. The section of the book which recounts Catherine Coulson’s final performance in her iconic role of Margaret Lanterman, AKA the Log Lady, may well have you weeping when you read it. Her scenes will take on a deeper poignancy when you watch Twin Peaks: The Return again. Ms. Coulson was a key member of the Eraserhead team who worked tirelessly to help get that film made even donating her waitressing tips to the cause. Many of those sharing stories in the book are world-famous — Isabella Rossellini, Kyle Maclachlan, Laura Dern, Sting, John Hurt, Sissy Spacek — but some of the most illuminating insights come from lesser-known behind-the-scenes talents. One of my favorites is handyman and jack-of-all-trades, Alfredo Ponce. Mr. Ponce was doing some landscaping work in Lynch’s neighbor’s yard in the mid-nineties. Lynch struck up a conversation with him and the two hit it off. Lynch hired him to do some cleaning. He has been working for Lynch ever since taking care of everything from landscaping to plumbing to electrical work to mechanical repairs to building a set for Inland Empire. “People see me here cleaning or raking leaves and they think nothing — they don’t know how much I know,” Mr. Ponce says. “I can smell things from far away, and I can see immediately when someone comes up here who doesn’t have David’s best interest at heart. The negative energy — I can see that, and I’ve seen a lot of people come and go. David’s an easygoing, nice person and he can be taken advantage of, so I try to protect him. Anybody who works here has to be somebody I trust.” Ponce’s picture jibes with the overall depiction of Lynch in the book. While he’s had his fallings out, breakups, business deals gone wrong and so forth the general consensus seems to be that he’s a pretty nice guy. On a scale of Dale Cooper doppelgangers, he’d likely hew more toward the Dougie Jones side of the spectrum than the Evil Coop zone. No doubt the man can be cantankerous, cranky, foul-mouthed and ill-tempered when confronted with realities that get in his way, as demonstrated in this clip below from the making of Twin Peaks: The Return, but some Hollywood veterans who’ve worked with him describe the experience as among the nicest, most pleasant and least dysfunctional gigs they’ve had in their long careers. The man has manners. He’s considerate. He knows everybody on set by name and acknowledges their contributions far beyond the directorial norm. This may in part be due to his long commitment to the daily practice of Transcendental Meditation. We also see Lynch’s maniacal attention to detail. He’ll fuss over something on set that likely won’t even be visible on screen in the end. To get the feel of the scene just right, it is important for him that all of the details be just so, just right. And, of course, if one gets to the point of fussing over minor details that won’t ever show, it’s only because there’s nothing left to fuss with. Everything is just right and ready to go. He’s like the short story writer who knows he is done with a story when he finds himself putting commas back in that he’d previously cut. Yet coupled with that powerful desire to get the set to look just the way he envisioned it is the seemingly contradictory willingness to embrace chance and serendipity, to spontaneously incorporate a new element that presents itself into the work. Lynch’s best friend since high school, the production designer and artistic director Jack Fisk, who has worked with many of the finest directors in Hollywood including the Coen Brothers and Terrence Malick and is every bit as well-respected as Lynch in the movie industry (though far less famous to the general public) gives an example of this from when they were teenagers obsessed with painting. A large moth flew onto one of Lynch’s wet paintings, got trapped and flailed away trying to break loose. While another painter might have been upset and set to work to remove the moth and smooth over the disrupted section of paint, Lynch was thrilled and at once accepted the dying moth’s struggle and eventual death as a part of the painting. Many years later, in a now famous incident, set designer Frank Silva accidentally got himself trapped on the set of Laura Palmer’s bedroom when he blocked the exit door with a dresser. He hid behind the bed during the filming of a scene. Lynch was intrigued by the thought of an unseen character hiding in the room. In a later scene in the Palmers’ living room, Silva’s face was accidentally shown reflected in a mirror. Clearly, he was supposed to be in the show. Lynch incorporated Silva into the series as a central figure, the evil, interdimensional being BOB who possesses Leland Palmer and makes him do bad things. It is hard to imagine Twin Peaks without BOB but such a version might have been if Mr. Lynch was less open to influence, if he didn’t allow himself the room to dream. Room to Dream. What a perfect title. Mr. Lynch managed to find himself the room to dream and to bring those dreams alive on film, on record, and on canvas so the rest of us can dream along with him. He got past the most common destroyer of artistic ambition — concerned, well-meaning parents who don’t understand what you’re doing — and found collaborators who did get it. That this is a book Lynch fans will enjoy goes without saying, but it’s also a good choice more generally for anyone interested in how movies get made or those who simply enjoy a good memoir.

-- Steve Potter

https://bookfreak.us/2018/10/21/david-lynchs-room-to-dream/

#david lynch #room to dream #biography #memoir #moviemaking #eraserhead #blue velvet #muholland drive #dune #the elephant man #lost highway #wild at heart

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pathetic-has-been-rockstar · 4 years ago

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Finding Warmth

Pairing: Crowely x reader

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo

Square filled: sharing a bed

Warnings: none

Summary: Chuck is gone, Amara is in charge, and the world is finally free. You're heading to the bunker for the first proper Christmas celebration with Team Free Will, but you're forced to stop along the way. When the former King of Hell shows up, you manage to surprise him, and discover a new side of the demon.

Words: 2644

Beta: @raspberrymama

my work can be found on AO3, here! If you’re interested in the whole series, you just have to click here!

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The road to the bunker is pretty long, and the radio doesn't bring reassuring news. Apparently, there's a snow storm raging somewhere, and the roads aren't going to be open for long.

With a sigh, you peek at your car's clock. It's well past nine, and you're hungry and tired, so you decide to pull over at the first motel sign you see. You book a room, head to the gas station next to the motel and buy a couple of sandwiches, a cupcake and a couple of soft drinks. You're in the mood for some beer, but you're tired enough as it is.

Walking back to your room, you make a call.

“Hey there, Dean!”

“Kid! We were starting to worry. Where are you?” You smile at the concern in his voice. Since Chuck is gone and things have changed, he became almost overprotective in regards to his little found family.

“Still a state over. Snow storm raging, closed lanes. I've managed to snatch the last room in a motel, tomorrow morning things should be better.”

“Crap. I'm sorry. Anything we can do?”

“Nah, don't worry. I'll have some food and hit the bed, it's been a hell of a drive so far”, you quietly thank yourself for being reasonable and driving something maybe less fascinating but definitely more comfortable than the Impala. Dean's voice brings you back shortly.

“Take some rest and stay safe, ok? We'll check in tomorrow, but you keep us updated”.

“Won't miss. Night guys.”

You quickly hang up and walk in your room. It's pretty cold, close to the road, and the bed doesn't look really comfortable, but it still beats the idea of sleeping on some shoulder of the road.

Once you're done with your dinner, you try to turn on the tv, but it doesn't work, just like the heating, apparently. Bored and slightly frustrated, you make yourself a cup of tea using the courtesy set, then pick up your phone and send a text.

A moment later, a familiar British accent rings behind you.

“Hello, darling.”

You turn around in your chair, smiling at the king of Hell. As usual, he's clad in black, looking both impeccable and mildly bored.

“Hello, Crowley. How are you?”

“I'm curious, actually. How can I help my favourite non-hunter on this fair night?”

The day he won't tease you about the fact that you still refuse to label yourself as a hunter will be the day Hell freezes over, probably. You laugh it off, and make your request, hoping he's in a good mood.

“Do you have a way to bring me to the bunker that's not through a snowstorm?”

He tilts his head, looking at you.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I need to get to the bunker, but the snow...”

“Do I look like a bloody taxi service to you?”

Alright, he's not in a good mood. You shake your head, feeling the tiredness of the day washing over you, and you shift a bit in the chair.

“You don't have enough juice anymore, do you?”

He gives you a cold glance, and doesn't even bother denying. He pulls up a chair and sits, stretching his legs under the table and looking at you.

“Why are you in a rush to get there, anyway? As far as I know, the Wonder Brothers are on holiday break.”

“Yes, they are. I'm part of that break.”

He looks surprised, then he pouts for a second before talking, like he does when something doesn't go the way he wants.

“Of course you are. Well... since you summoned me for a stupid request, I'll take advantage of it. Which means... I'm staying here.”

You choke a little at the idea. You're not going to complain about spending a night with him, but the idea of doing it like that, without anything to steal, hunt, or kill just feels a bit weird. It's also the first time that you two spend time together alone after the whole Chuck affair and his return from the Empty.

“The whole night?”

He nods, eyeing the bed with a smirk you know too well.

“You fear we'll run out of things to do, love?”

“Oh, please. It's freezing in here.”

“One more reason to take advantage of the bearer of Hellfire, love.”

You laugh off his swagger and take it for what it is: the very essence of Crowley, and a clear attempt to play his favourite game of making people uncomfortable. Then, you remember something.

“Yeah, sure. Hang on, I gotta pick up something from my car.”

You grab the keys of your car and rush out of the room, leaving a very bemused Crowley behind you.

That's not how he was expecting a nightly summoning to go... nor what he was hoping for. You don't seem particularly interested in replaying that only night in which you fell between his arms, but that doesn't mean he won't play his cards to get there.

He walks to the table and picks up the cup of what looks like tea, but smells like chemicals and bad food colouring, until he hears you stepping back in the room and closing the door behind you.

“Here.”

Crowley raises his nose from your cup of “tea”, which he was curiously smelling, and looks at you with a confused expression.

“... what... what’s that?”

“A box. Inside it, there’s a thing I’d like you to have on my behalf. It’s called a present, or gift. Mortals do this thing of exchanging them at Christmas. Remember that?”

“... you got me a present. A... a Christmas present.”

“Yeah.”

“You... got the King of Hell a Christmas present.”

“Former king of Hell, last time I checked. If you don’t want it I can always take it back, you know.”

Setting the cup back on the counter, Crowley’s stare shifts from your hands holding the box to your face, studying your features. You seem good willed enough.

“I didn’t say that”, he mumbles.

“Well, take it, then. Careful, it’s fragile.”

Crowley finally takes the box from you, brushing your fingers with his ones in doing so, and noticing the slight pink tingeing your cheeks for a moment.

The box is wrapped in brown paper, but you drew a geometric pattern on it, snowflakes-shaped. Then, watching more carefully, Crowley sees a pitchfork here and there in the middle of the snowflakes, and he smiles. You really put some effort in that, and you're glad he seems to appreciate it.

“You surely do have a certain sense of humour, kitten.”

“There’s not a single good enough reason to be dull”, you brush off his compliment, but it surely flatters you.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

With a snap of his fingers, the wrapping paper opens without tearing, making you smile. You stand, awkward, and watch Crowley carefully examining the wooden box in his hands, until he sees the name branded on it. Immediately, he grins. You certainly know him.

“Kitten, of all the surprising things you could have done, this goes easily up in the top ten.”

“I am surprising, after all.”

You shrug, awkward. You're happy that he liked the present, but you keep hoping that he won’t ask you the most obvious question, the one whirring through your mind since you decided to give him one bottle of the finest whisky in the world.

“Indeed. Just... why?”

“One of my clients saw a bottle you left at the store and asked me if I was interested in whisky. I treat him pretty well, so he sent me a couple of these, and I thought you might like it.”

“That's not what I asked.”

“It's just... tradition, you know?”

Crowley shakes his head, carefully setting the bottle on the table of the motel. You both are well aware that what you gave him is rare, coveted, and incredibly expensive. It surely is not a token exchanged to respect a tradition.

“No, it's not. And you put me in a difficult position, now. I haven't gotten you anything.”

You smile, a bit disappointed by the fact that he deemed that present as a formality.

“It's fine, actually. You must be terrible with presents.”

“Pardon?”

“Of course. You were a king, used to being revered and obeyed... when was the last time you gave someone a present, just because you felt like doing it? And don't mention paying Dean's bar tabs, that doesn't count. It must be something you picked out, not a deal.”

Crowley thinks about it for a second, then scoffs. You got him, and yet he's not particularly bothered. There's something in the way you tease him that he really likes. Perhaps it's because you're not scared of him, or maybe because you don't seem conflicted about him. No awkward shuffling and senseless musings about right or wrong. Even after your night together, you simply moved on, like you would have done with any other one-time lover... even if perhaps he didn't exactly appreciate that.

“Alright, kitten, you got me. But I'm sure that, if I had a chance, I could certainly surprise you with a nice present”.

“Ah, now. I gave you something... it's already impossible to be spontaneous.”

“I don't think this game has fair rules.”

You laugh and relax on the uncomfortable chair. “Of course it doesn't. Christmas is a very tactical time of the year. If I surprise you with a present, you will be forced to be nice to me until next Christmas. I'm an evil genius in a very hot body.”

He laughs, his eyes roaming your forms.

“While I can definitely see that... I'm sorry, love, but you lack conviction.”

“Meaning what?”

“I am quite the epitome of the villain... and that speech lacks the necessary emphasis to be believable. In fact, I think you like Christmas quite a lot, and you took real pleasure in giving me something.”

“I've never been so insulted in my life!” you mock him, making him laugh. You've always taken a certain pride in being the one able to make Crowley genuinely laugh, and his humour is one of the things you appreciate most of him.

He snaps his fingers and conjures two crystal glasses from thin air. They're made of crystal, finely etched, and you recognize them as a part of his personal collection, one you've often seen in his hand. He gives you a questioning look.

“... what is it, your highness?”

“I was wondering how upset you'd be if I were to share my present with you.”

You think about it for a second, then solemnly look back at him.

“You know... I think a quality check is in order.”

“Just what I thought. Let's see if mister Gordon and mister MacPhail have honoured fifty years of ageing.”

When Crowley pours you your whisky, you immediately take a deep breath of it, studying the articulate aroma. You rarely had the chance of drinking something this old, and you're always curious about it.

The first note is sweet, like apple and honey, followed by a hint of smoke, and that promise is kept when, after a proper toast with your favourite demon, you indulge your dram. The sweet and thick taste is balanced by a sour note, and it leaves a peaty finish on your tongue. After the first few sips, it's already going to your head, and you lick your lips. The smoky finish reminds you of something similar, far more tempting.

Something that's currently sitting in front of you, telling of a deal he made with the owner of a distillery in the Speyside, a couple of centuries ago. You try to engage in conversation, at first, but time flies, the bottle empties more and more, and pretty soon you're half asleep.

You almost miss his laughter when he stands up and places his hands on your shoulders, helping you up on your feet. You protest weakly, closing your eyes.

“Come on, kitten. Let's get you to bed.”

“... no... I don't want to, it's cold...”

“I'll see to it. Do you trust me?”

The warm voice purring to your ear is a dream, a promise of comfort and warmth that you’re not willing to give up, but you also know you’re not supposed to indulge.

“... I shouldn't...”

“But do you?”

You drop your head on his shoulder, rubbing your face against the fabric of his suits while you nod.

“... yes.”

“And thanks to Christmas magic, this time you won't pay for this mistake.”

Crowley laughs next to your ear while he effortlessly carries you to bed. With a snap of his fingers he takes off your shoes and clothes, substituting them with a comfortable flannel pyjama.

You curl up under the thin sheets, shivering in the cold bed, and close your eyes, trying to relax. You hear another snap of fingers and you feel Crowley slipping in the sheets behind you, wrapping you in a warm embrace.

You'd like to protest, but he's too warm, and you're tired. All you manage to do is let out a muffled sound, before snuggling closer to him and falling asleep right away. You enjoy the best night of sleep you had in months.

The following morning, you open your eyes and, for a second, you don't see anything. It takes you a moment to realize that you must have turned in your sleep, and your face is now pressed against Crowley's chest. One of your arms is folded between you, while the other is draped on his side. You pull back, suddenly awkward, making him laugh. Your breath hitches imperceptibly when you feel the soft rumble shaking his chest, but you hope he didn't notice.

“Morning, love.”

“I... hi. How... how are we... did we...”

Crowley runs a hand through your hair, pulling them away from your face. “We shared the only bed, yes. I think we could have done something more interesting, but you were drunk, and quite exhausted.”

“I wasn't drunk, just... never mind. What time is it?”

“Barely 9. We still have plenty of time to get to the bunker.”

“... we?”

The kiss on your forehead is so light that you wonder if you imagined the light prickle of his beard on your skin, but Crowley lingers there for a moment before answering your question.

“You surely need a copilot to get there in one piece, and you can't die while you're one up on me.”

You finally chuckle and slowly, very slowly, you disentangle yourself from Crowley. One of his hands moves on your side, and his fingers sink in the fabric covering your skin. The shiver running down your back has very little to do with the room temperature.

“... alright, you can come with me, then. Let me just take a shower and...”

“No rush, love. Actually, why don't we...”

Your phone buzzing furiously on the nightstand interrupts Crowley. You give him an apologizing look, then grab your phone and pick the call, groaning.

“Yeah?... yes, Dean, I... alright, sure. Thanks. I'll get going”. You hang up and turn to Crowley, blushing. “He... he heard that the roads are open, but the weather cast says it's snowing again this afternoon. We'd better get on the road.”

Before he can say anything, you stand up, grab your bag and walk into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. On the good side, you're so confused and excited that you barely notice the cold. On the bad side, you're so confused and excited that you almost try to use your mouthwash as skin tonic.

Crowley , still lying on the bed, smirks at the stained ceiling. He's seen how nervous you are around him, and he congratulates himself on his decision to come with you at the bunker. He's never been a fan of holidays, but it looks like things might change soon.

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Thank you for reading! I truly hope you enjoyed this little story. Every kind of feedback is very much appreciated, just as much as likes and reblogs!

Please, do not repost my works or part/s of it on different places, not even if you give credits.

#spnchristmasbingo #reblog #crowley x reader #spnfic #fanfiction #writers on tumblr #fluff #christmas fluff #crowley x fem reader

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mrcurrygoestospain · 3 years ago

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Camino De Santiago - Round 5

Spain travel log, 2021…

Day One:

September 20 - Depart Seattle for Madrid, by way of London. There were plenty of issues just getting to this point. In addition to the ongoing concerns over COVID-19, or perhaps because of them, I had some serious concerns about whether I could and whether I should do this trip at all. In the end, I think I simply realized that it was totally appropriate for me to go on this trip: I’ve been “responsible” and taken the full round of vaccinations, generally avoided social contacts with people and been diligent about the masks. So I made my reservations and thought everything was fine. About 2 weeks before takeoff, I got an email from Iberia that one of my flights had been changed. When I looked into it, I found that it was the connecting flight from London to Madrid and the schedule had been bumped up by about 6 hours taking me from having a 2 hour layover in Heathrow to needing to be on a plane for Madrid 4 hours before I actually landed in London and would be able to board it… It took attempts at phone calls over several days to get this corrected. Finally, I tried while I was at top work one morning around 5:00 am. I finally got through and a nice lady helped rebook my connecting flight. She found the only available flight on that day that would work; now I have a seven hour layover.

I prepped for my trip, checklists and routes planned. I arrived at the airport 3 hours early, just in case. Although I booked with Iberia, it was a British flight. So standing in line at the BA counter in SeaTac, I saw the sign: “All passengers must show proof of a negative COVID test.” What? I’d already checked multiple times; I only need proof of vaccination to get into Spain. I check the internet. Sure enough, if you’re on a layover in England, you need a negative test…A quick Google search helped me find a testing center at SeaTac airport, so I rushed down to baggage claim number nine to see if I could get a test in time. In all honesty, I really thought I wasn’t going to make it and I’d have to try to contact the airline again to find a way to reschedule my flight. I stood in the line for what seemed like forever, but finally had the privilege of paying $250 for a rapid COVID test. T- minus 2 hours 30 minutes to departure and they promised results in 1-1.5 hours. The test itself was relatively painless. After all of the horror stories I’d heard about the nasal swabs, I was a bit worried. But it didn’t hurt, it just tickled a little bit. I waited, and waited…it seemed like they would never have my results. While I waited, I heard stories from other travelers who had missed flights or rebooking because of these ridiculous COVID-related requirements. One young Canadian lady I spoke to shared that she’d spent over $1000 on COVID tests in the last month due to traveling. I guess my $250 wasn’t so much.

I finally got my negative test results and rushed back to the check in counter, filled out the required government forms and headed through security. The flight was delayed.

After a nine hour flight to London, I had seven or eight hours to kill in Heathrow Airport, Terminal 5, before boarding my flight to Madrid. I shopped, I ate, I listened to podcasts. I took a few naps and generally cursed British Airways for changing my original flight. Some Italian guy made quite a scene at the boarding gate for the flight to Madrid. The gate agent handled it quite well and passive-aggressively punished him for his demeanor.

I arrived in Madrid after an easy flight on Iberia, made my way to the metro and on to my Hostel. It was a nice enough place. After 28 hours of travel, I was ready for a shower and bed.

Day 2:

On my one day in Madrid, I walked from my hostel/hotel to the Museo Nacional del Prado. It’s Spain’s greatest art museum. This was my second time there and I spent a lot more of it. There are so many amazing pieces and, for someone who used to truly despise art, it was amazing. I highly recommend it. I haven’t been to a whole lot of art museums, but it is, by far, my favorite. I followed that with a walk through the Royal Botanical Gardens. I’m sure they’re great when all of the flowers are blooming, but in early fall, it’s just a lot of green. Either way, it was still peaceful. I visited another nearby park, walked around and viewed the statues, and then made my way back towards the hotel and passed it to go to the Cathedral opposite the royal palace. It’s a much more modern cathedral than the ones I’ll see on the Camino, but still impressive.

Day 3:

On the morning of the third day, I got up early and got packed. Took the metro to the train station and purchased a ticket to Leon. After two hours on the train, I took a 20 minute walk to the hotel and dropped off my bag, and then spent the next few hours wandering the city. I found a barber and got a haircut for 9 Euro, quite a bargain. Stopped at the “Taste of America” shop to get a bottle of hot sauce (Cholula, of course), and just meandered around the city until I could get checked in at the hotel. It was a pretty uneventful day, which is just what I needed. I was still very tired from all of the traveling and trying to swap schedules.

Day 4:

I got up late, around 8:00 AM and started walking the city. I stopped for a cafe con leche and met a Scottish couple who had been walking the Camino for the last few weeks. While we waited out the rain under cover, the shared with me some of their other walking adventures, including tales of walking through the Swiss Alps on the Via Francigena, a pilgrimage route to Rome. I may have to look into that for a future trip. I also shared with them my plans/considerations of taking a walk on the “Great Glen Way” in Scotland. The wife had already done this and highly recommended it, along with the West Highland Way. Both are approximately 5-day walks through some of the wild country of Scotland. When the rain let up, we parted ways and I went to tour the Cathedral, toured the Basilica of Saint Isidore and wandered around town, shopping and eating. Inside the Saint Isidore museum and basilica, i had the opportunity to see what is referred to as the “Sistine Chapel of Romanesque Art” as well as a gold and silver cup that some historians claim is the “holy grail.”

Day 5:

Didn’t sleep much…I forgot how much they like to party in Spain. It was LOUD all night long. Anyway, started my walk. Today was about 27 km and it rained through about 50% of the day. It was a mix of roads and dirt tracks. I only saw one other pilgrim, a Spaniard who doesn’t speak any English. I got ahead of him and had stopped for a rest at a picnics table on top of a mountain. He showed up a few minutes behind me and I tried to chat for a minute, but the language barrier…. I offered him half of my tangerine and then he took off again. I passed him up later. I had been slightly worried about where to stay for the night as the municipal albergue in this province/state are currently closed due to the ‘Rona, but when I got to town I found a pension with rooms available. The lovely lady named Susana showed me to a room and also worked tirelessly to make me a reservation for the following night. I hadn’t eaten much for the day, so I ordered big: hot dog and patatas oil bravas. Patatas bravas is a traditional dish in Spain which is made of fried potatoe cubes that are covered in a (typically) spicy tomato sauce. Potatoes Ali Oli are the same fried potatoes but with a garlic cream sauce instead of the spicy sauce. This one combined both sauces. It was nice. The inside of the restaurant/bar/cafe was very loud with a bunch of men playing a card game I’m not familiar with, so I went outside to have a beer. An older Spaniard, named Hilario, came out and started trying to talk to me. I explained that I am American and I don’t speak much Spanish, but he disagreed. So he went inside and got another man, a Hungarian who had been in Spain for the last 25 years, named Fernanco(?) who was extremely drunk, to come out and talk to me. He was so drunk, he introduced himself as “muy borracho” or “very drunk” and the proceeded to tell me that he used to be a muy Thai fighter and a coal miner and now he was just a fat drunk who collected money from the government because he got hit in the head too many times. At least I THINK that’s what they were saying…. I went to bed early to get a good rest and let my aching feet and hips recover before a long day tomorrow….from La Robla to Poladura, should be about 25km or so with some very intense climbs. We’ll see.

I’m currently on the Camino San Salvador, which is a route from Leon to Oviedo. They say “whoever goes to Santiago without visiting Oviedo, goes to the servant but not to the Lord.” This is because Oviedo is famous for having a specific relic. While most people are aware of the Shroud of Turin, which is the burial cloth of Jesus, many don’t know (including me, until recently) that traditional Jewish burial included placing a cloth over the face of the deceased immediately after death and until the body was prepared for burial. This cloth would then be removed and the full-body cloth would be applied. So anyway, this Cathedral boasts possession of the face covering that was placed over Jesus’ head, likely immediately after the spear pearled his side and before he was brought down off of the cross. Once I complete the Camino San Salvador (about 5 days, I hope), I will continue on to the Camino Primitivo, one of the many Camino’s de Santiago. So the Camino San Salvador goes to the relics of Christ and the Camino Santiago (Santiago = Saint James) goes to the resting place and remains of Saint James (the major), also known as “Santiago Matamoros” or “Saint James the Moor Slayer”, the patron saint of Spain.

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