silver-dipstick

[silver-dipstick]

Are you gonna continue making the Radiohead series?

yes - sorry tumblr has been eating asks (and just about any notification up), but I really only want to write it when I know I'm going to produce something good and not just because of its relative popularity. thank you x

[silver-dipstick]

Radiohead - Chapter 1

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28504143/chapters/69844236

Prologue: https://silver-dipstick.tumblr.com/post/646882922662690816/radiohead-prologue

Doomguy/reader

“Good Evening everyone, and welcome to today’s episode of RADIOHEAD, I’m your host, and today I have a very special story to share with you! Some loyal listeners may know that today is the one year anniversary of this radio broadcast show. For anyone newly joining us, or anyone in need of a refresher, RADIOHEAD is the daily radio broadcast by yours truly, airing everyday at 5pm GMT. Topics of conversation include everything from stargazing to how many tacos I can fit in my mouth…” chuckling to herself as she continues, reflecting briefly on the true reason for RADIOHEAD’s continued existence, “And today I have a story time for you. Usually I only have a story time every Friday, but as it’s a special occasion you can have a double dose.”

While she was more than happy to tell her stories of what life had been like… before, she was still a little reluctant to share those bits of herself more than once a week, mainly keeping to her daily activities or funny little jokes she’d thought up. Just casual thing, maybe some drawings she was working on. That was the point of RADIOHEAD, outside of something to keep the starving isolation away. It was hope. Or at least she hoped it was hope. Radios were still commonly used for communication, given how stubborn radios and radio waves were, and easy to fix up the apocalypse – and she should know as it had taken her a while to fix up a transmitter to get her show up and running. It was her hope to bring a little bit of joy to others, if there were any others left, with just a bit of normalcy. She thought too much reminiscing of the past and what they could no longer have might be too painful, and she had no idea what was happening outside of the little bunker she had quite happily hunkered down in, so casual talk and chitchat it was.

What about those fabled hardy radio waves? Surely if she fixed up a transmitter, she should be able to get a receiver up and running, surely there would be other resistance groups able to share some news with her, hope, human contact… And well, you wouldn’t be wrong, except you are. While engineering wasn’t her strong suit, she did have the capacity for basic soldering and the like, with the issue being that when she came across the tech in her bunker, both the transmitter and the receiver were broken; and much to her chagrin she could only fix one. If only she could find some more supplies, maybe the lower levels… no, not yet. Regardless, there was no time to ponder, she had a story to tell.

“I was 17 at the time, eons ago, I know,” another chortle escaped, “And quite the looker for my age too. Managed to snag myself a nice boy at least, rugged and handsome, proper bad boy with a soft heart – you know the type. Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, 17, middle of summer going on a date. He wouldn’t tell me where we were going, simply told me to grab around his waist and hold tight as we zipped away on his ‘rebuilt’ motorbike. I say ‘rebuilt’ only because it was on the verge of falling apart again. Forget feeling scared about going to an unknown location with my boyfriend of two weeks without telling anyone, simply getting on that death trap is enough to send shivers down my spine, even to this day! So yeah, we zoomed away, the air was warm at least and not biting too harshly against my face, and I mean seriously, what were either of us thinking? That death trap plus no helmets was just begging for trouble. Sorry, gone on a tangent again,  I always seem to get carried away whenever I talk about that darn motorbike. Anyway, it was nice, romantic, sun was just starting to set as we pulled into the fairground. Yeah, a fairground, cliché I know, but cute none the less. We even did all the typical things, playing games, eating corndogs, smashing each other in bumper cars even though were way to old,” a soft sigh escapes her lips, maybe limiting to one story a week wasn’t just to stop others from focussing on a now painful past, “He won me a toy too, took him ages mind you, but it was one of those big plushies, a cute turtle that was pink, weird but adorable. We grabbed a huge stick of galaxy themed candyfloss with enough sugar to make a dentist cry, then he grabbed my hand and we ran. Not far mind you, just enough to get out of the crowd as we sat down on the grass. The light and cool air of the night intoxicating us; and we stuffed handfuls of the stars into our mouths. That moment neither of us had a care in the world, I remember that it seemed as if time itself had almost stopped as we stared at each other. Nothing sexual or romantic, at least not in that moment, just a moment of blissful togetherness, us against the world. We sat like that for a while.”

She took the moment for a rather pregnant pause, collecting herself. The good thing about this show was that at least she had learnt to talk while also crying silently. Not that she missed the guy, he ended up being an asshole, she just missed what was, what she used to have.

“Then we both stood up, sugar clearly taking affect, and raced back. More rides and shooting games. I narrowly avoided being handed off a new pet fish that would have been consumed by my cat within seconds of me getting home, and he was nearly thrown up of by an abnormally large seven year old who definitely did not have an affinity for rollercoasters. But with no disasters we made it there, to the seemingly undisputed cliché of fairground dates: the Ferris Wheel. After a record braking fast queue time we managed to snag a little booth to ourselves too, another cliché, but that may have been more to do with him giving the operator a small bribe and getting a cheeky wink in return while he thought my back was turned. But we got a booth, holding hands and staring into the nights sky as our breath began making little wisps in the air. The sun had long since set, and that gave him the opportunity to take off his leather and drape them around me, once again, mother of all cliches, but this one was decidedly nice as it was actually getting rather cold out. It dwarfed me a little, even then I was smaller than most, but it smelt of him, him and his ridiculous cologne. But leaning into him and his hands wrapped around me, life just seemed so perfect. We stopped at the top. Nothing but the heavens above us – cool air whipped around us, sending hair and clothes around us into nothing short of perfect disarray. We both leaned forward, he tilted his head, and became so thoroughly pained and disgusted, but before I could even voice my own confusion… he threw up on me. Glittery sick, everywhere. Thankfully, his coat took most of the damage, but my hair didn’t escape unscathed and it took three showers before the smell truly left me. It was certainly awkward after that at least, he was really apologetic, and I got that it wasn’t his fault, but I had just been thrown up on, and wasn’t in the mood anymore. So we headed back, this time the wind lashed at us in the cold night, and the bike itself even rattled more than usual. So not a fantastic end to what was almost a phenomenal night. But I’ll always remember it I guess, and the stars that night. They seemed to defy nature itself, or more specifically night pollution. That’s the one thing I really miss. The stars.” Another pause, now for the easy bit, where she could pull herself together after that particularly hard story. Gods she missed the stars.

She began again, “And now, for the weather:” Break My Stride by Matthew Wilder began to softly play from a plugin to the transmitter. That was one thing she really loved. Instead of playing a song or two from the collections down in the bunker normally, she replaced the weather segment that would normally play on a news radio segment with a song. She had remembered that from a podcast she used to listen to, and it was particularly fitting here, especially since she didn’t know the weather anymore. It had been little over a fully year she’d been down here, in a literal government nuclear bunker. One of the deepest, largest, well stocked bunkers with access to enough nukes to ensure total nuclear annihilation for the whole world. No contact with the outside world. If she didn’t have the capacity to sometimes hear them, the demons, when all was quiet, you might have been able to convince her that it was all over, the Hell outside merely a figment of her imagination, a far off dream, a nightmare. But it most certainly wasn’t.

The day it all started seemed like a dream. A massive portal opening in the sky, much the same as the way the Sentinels arrived, but oh so very different. Instead of a light and comforting blue hue, a deep crimson riot crashed above the sky, moments later a huge pod dropped out, landing in Central Europe, the beginning to what would later be dubbed as the ‘Super Gore Nest’. Then came the demons. Unspeakable and indescribable monsters from what must surely be the worst pits of hell. Their unholy screeching and burning flesh, rotting and decaying before their very eyes, but even the small ones proved a challenge for the Earth’s militia. Let alone the titans. Accordingly, the Night Sentinels fought across the galaxy, but it wasn’t enough. They fell, and so did the Earth.

But she knew none of this. Nothing past the first day and even then, information was scarce. She remembered waking up to her father sitting downstairs, annoyed at some damn hoax on the news. Yawning, she made her way downstairs, clad in flannel pyjamas and little bunny slippers to combat the cold kitchen’s unyielding tiles. Coffee began to brew in the battered machine, it had sustained many years of abuse from the house’s resident coffee addicts, which happened to be everyone in the small family of three: father, daughter, and son. And their cat, Whiskey, of course. Sounds of horrific screaming, gunshots and sheer demonic screeching were crackling from the tv in the front room, with the sliver of screen that could be seen through the ajar door displaying a sight that would remain be burned into her brain when she thought back on that day. Replaying again, and again, and again. She too, had thought it to be a hoax. Demons from Hell? No way.

So she ate her lacklustre breakfast, slightly stale cereal if you must know, and decided to head out into the world. The were only a few small clouds in the sky that floated lazily by in the mid-morning breeze. A small walk the woods would rekindle her artistic flare, she mused, not thinking too hard of the visions of this morning’s news.

The woods themselves weren’t too far out from her house, she had always gone to play there with her brother when they were younger, these days it was less a fantastical playground but a place of refuge. No devices for her, no responsibilities, nothing. Just calm. Birdsong still flitted through the trees as she meandered down the path she’d beaten, and wouldn’t vary too much from until she got a little deeper. The forest wasn’t often walked in bar a few locals, you’d expect more throughfare for somewhere so beautiful. With a river that sparkled and huge old trees, perfect, in her opinion. But she could see what scared them off. There was something else, deeper into the forest, lurking with an ominous presence. It was easy enough to ignore once you were in the trees, and it didn’t seem to tower over you, to dominate you, always watching.

She never knew what drew her there that day – only that it had saved her life for sure. There was an ominous buzzing and loud bangs as she grew closer, the kind of thing that would deter people, send them away. Rightly so. Pushing through the underbrush she came across The Fence. It was a place she remembered well, but hadn’t been in the years since her brother stopped coming with her. The Fence was huge, and loomed over her, topped with barbed wire, and warnings plastering the huge concrete pillars evert few metres CAUTION: LIVE WIRE . Despite the warnings it wasn’t that well maintained. The place itself was a deterrent enough, and it had constant guards, but these days, only a skeleton crew to watch over it.

Inside the foreboding fence that had fascinated her and her brother as children (in hindsight not the safest place to play), was what could be described as a behemoth, a steel wonderland that rose up from the ashes of where a forest used to stand. It was a bunker, a backup of a last resort for their leaders. Layers unseen beneath the earth, housing computers and tech, nuclear codes, stockpiles of everything you might need for the apocalypse. It was as she peered through the fence that the alarm sounded. It was a horrible wail that pierced the air. A test maybe? She thought, and well whatever it was, she hoped it was over quickly. It was a bone-chilling sound that seemed too loud, pumping adrenaline into her veins at an alarming rate. Something was wrong, so wrong, wrong, wrong. And then she saw. Swarms of heavily armed troopers, surrounding the building then systematically entering. A few staying behind to guard a group of huddled people – scared people, whispering in hushed tones that she couldn’t hear from this distance. And even though all the soldiers left seemed on edge, they hadn’t noticed her in the shrubbery yet, too close to the fence for any guard to be comfortable with on ordinary occasion, let alone whatever was happening here.

Not many knew that the fence was useless, broken, unless of course you’d spent most of your life in the forest. One December morning she’d gone out to play with her brother when they’d discovered a stray dog deep in the woods. Being the still fearless children that they were, when it had run off they gave chase. Tumbling deeper into the forest until the dog was backed against the fence. And it had run straight into it, before bouncing off and sprinting into the trees again. This time the curious children did not follow. The fence hadn’t hurt the dog. And they were confused. While this wasn’t the stretch of fence they were most familiar with, being fairly far from home and round the back of the building, which according to her brother was far less interesting that the front for some reason, the rest of the fence was definitely electrified. As they got closer, however, it didn’t hum in the same way the other sections did. After a few minutes of debate her decidedly idiot brother simply stuck his hand to the metal and surprisingly wasn’t shocked. Huh. The electricity had gone down in that section of fence, clearly. They never told anyone.

A few years later, a small tree had fallen down in the same place, putting a hole in the dense fence. It was small enough for them the squeeze through now, but definitely not for a fully grown adult. They’d dared each other to go through, and eventually they both did, but not for more than a couple of steps each, scared of being caught despite the fact that the place was practically a ghost town. They never told anyone.

Maybe she’d be dead if they had.

As she scooted forward, right up to the fence, hearing the humming almost against her cheek and still shrouded in the bush around her, that was when she heard. And she was thankful she’d jerked backwards instead of forwards into the fence when she’d head the screams. The soldiers came pouring out again, but they were pointing guns at something, something else she couldn’t see on the other side of the facility and fence. Over the sound of rapid gunfire and orders and the people moved to go inside the building, she couldn’t hear them either. But she could hear behind her. Far behind her, thankfully.

Fight or flight? Flight.

Everything seemed to slow. It ambled towards her, stumbling a little and groaning. It was grotesque, like nothing she’d seen before, monstrous, demonic, hell-like. Which was exactly what it was. Despite already being riddle with bullets it stalked towards her, unrelenting and out for blood. Hers. Then time seemed to speed up again. Too quickly. She ran, much like the wild dog in years gone by, and it gave chase.

Crashing through thorns and shrubs, not feeling their sting or cuts she ran for what seemed a marathon before she got there, the Hole. It was hot on her tail, not perturbed by the rambunctious chase she’d taken it on. She suspected. In hindsight, that the only reason she’d been ahead was her knowledge of the forest, of the terrain and pure adrenaline. Adrenaline was a powerful drug that if paired with proper motivation could push humans to do unthinkable feats.

Lucky. She had thought. So lucky. The hole was not made large enough for an ordinary human, but she knew the way it twisted and she was also small, even for a twenty year old woman. She had never seen her height and stature as such a blessing before, and she would never curse it again.

Pushing her way through she burst out the other side, just in time and its meaty claw was beginning to close around her exposed ankle. Bursting out into another dead sprint towards the back of the building she heard the metal itself groan and buckle behind her. It wouldn’t hold against the hell beast for long.

Still pumped with adrenaline she climbed a ladder the back, praying for a ventilation shaft, anything on the roof. The fence had been torn from its posts now – it was coming. There was no shaft on the roof, but she moved to the middle hiding and praying.

It worked. There was screaming and tearing from the front of the building, the smell of burning flesh festering. It was truly horrific; she could smell it from all the way up top. No one had survived, evidently, and it seemed the mindless demon and gone round to the front once it had entered to kill alongside its brethren. It seemed not one had fallen, even to the might of such heavily armed soldiers working in unison.

She could hear when they entered the building, ripping the door off its hinges, then new screams, fainter this time. People had made it inside evidently. Not for long. And she could hear, hours later, as they left. Some staying in the area, some heading towards the town. Adrenaline was still relentlessly pumping through her, but she couldn’t move, not even blink. It was as though she had completely frozen, even her breathing only coming out in shallow puffs. The alarm still blared, just as haunting as when it had first started. It didn’t seem to bother the demons. She still didn’t move.

She stayed like that for hours, even as the sun began to set and the cold began to eat into her, from both the inactivity of her muscles and the darkness beginning to eat at her. It was then, just as the sun had truly set and the world became shrouded in a darkness still more inviting that the darkness lurking beneath her, that a choir joined the alarm that was still piercing the now still air. Enthralling and dark, thrumming and calling in ancient tongues she had no knowledge of; the demons turned and ran into the night. She didn’t move.

It was fifteen minutes later that her brain seemed to understand that her body couldn’t stay there – that she needed to move. Her body moved, but she wasn’t really there, it was as though everything had swallowed her whole, her mind unable to comprehend the beasts, or the death, or anything really. But the thumped back towards the ladder and clumsily slid down, trembling. Walking around to the front in a daze, she could breathe now, and the needed to see to know –

She didn’t. She’d rather she hadn’t. The bodies had been left to fester in the summer’s sun, and while on the roof she paid it no mind, she did now. The smell was wrong, not what you’d expect it to smell like, but somehow infinitely worse. The bodies themselves were strewn in no order, a mess, literally torn apart. She doubted even a forensic team could decipher whose limbs belonged to whom. The once dusty courtyard had turned into a pool of bright blood, already turning a deep brown in places. Some bodies, she noted in her daze, seemed to faintly glow, mostly those with armour, the soldiers, her mind supplied, with light and unusual runes beginning to etch into their foreheads.

It was only a moments pause before she pushed on, safety, her mind screamed at her, pushing her towards the open bunker, the iron door ripped off its hinges by some unholy strength. As she reached the slight dip into the blood pool, booted foot sinking into it. Thicker than water. Blood is thicker than water, her mind supplied to her addled brain again. The squelching did nothing to bring her out of her stupor as she lumbered onwards. Nor did the clots of blood that had started to congeal. Even as a particularly large patch made her slip, hands first right unto a body. Her hand pushed right through the unidentifiable body’s ribcage, giving no resistance past a sickening snap, and into whatever internal organs were left inside. She pulled her hands out, taking a deep, shaky breath, and moved on. No time for that now, she’d break later.

Once she had made it through the door, and could see inside, she noted that it too, was littered with bodies. Blood and guts on the floor, walls, ceiling, doors, nothing was spared. She took more careful steps over them, and moved on.

The next few floors down were wrecked. Wires and technology replacing blood and gore. And then the bodies were back. This time in a room full of computer terminals, but she pressed on, alarm pulsing in her head feverishly now, too loud to think anyway. Down again, more wrecked property, no bodies. Down again, deceptively clean, rows and rows of doors. She opened one. A bedroom? She trudged over, collapsed, and fell asleep. She didn’t hear the demons return only minutes later, and for that, she could be glad.

The song was almost at and end, and she had managed to wipe her tears and grab a drink before she pressed on, after all; the show must go on! “I had a weird dream the other night, and my cat was in it too. We were somewhere snowy, deep in the mountains I think,” she pushed right back into it, not even acknowledging the end of the weather segment, “but it was nice. We were staying in a big hotel; it was called the Overlook? I can’t really remember much, just useless little detail that only exist in a dream, creepy rooms, a maze that seemed bigger inside than out, usual dream stuff. But then, as I went outside into the snow with my kitty, and we laid down, he started talking. He taught me the constellations, I mean, I already know them all, but it was nice. Speaking of stars and constellations, I’ve started making a projector. A little project of mine. It’s basically a metal ball with a light inside that projects the nights sky and constellations onto your ceiling. If you’ve been a listener for a long time you’ll already know how much I love the stars, but this project has been a bit annoying in that I’m trying to improve it with my limited engineering skills and fairly shoddy soldering.” Taking a deep breath she continues, this is easier its daily life, its calm, its nice, its refreshing, “But I want it to move, I want it to spin slowly, mirror the constellations, and that requires a lot more work than I thought it was going to, to be quite honest. But it should be nice once I’ve done, kinda like one of those nightlights you use as a kid, ya know?” speaking into the air, she puffed, “Or maybe you don’t know, I was always afraid of the dark as a kid, but I guess a lot of people are a lot braver than I am, I don’t think my brother ever needed one.”

She rambled on for a bit more, talking about her meals and how she made them, another failed attempt at soufflé, and what type of music she had listened to. Just the idle chatter that humans needed, normalcy, the pure simplicity of everyday life. All to quickly the hour was up, “Well that’s it for today folk, tune in tomorrow, 5pm GMT! Goodnight, sleep well everyone.”

The recording shut off, and she slumped back into her chair. They always tired her out, speaking into the air, not knowing if there even was anyone alive on the outside to listen, but in the end, it was always worth it. Just in case.

Meanwhile, just as she was falling asleep, curled up and alone, another entity was just waking up. Who?

The DOOMSLAYER.

and he was ready to RIP AND TEAR.

#doom #doom eternal #doomguy x reader #doomguy/reader #female reader #no beta #strong themes

[silver-dipstick]

Radiohead - Prologue

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28504143/chapters/69844236

Doomguy/reader

Summary:  After a very lucky escape during the first onslaught of the Hell sent apocalypse that soon promises changes the entire Earth forever, you find yourself safe trapped inside an abandoned nuclear bunker. Safe, yet isolated. With no other people or way to contact the outside world, what do you do to stave off the isolation and boredom? Start a one man radio show of course! When a certain Doom Slayer is resurrected and takes interest in your show, who knows what will happen. With pressure mounting from all sides as our resident Doom Hunk makes his way through the hordes of demons, what do people like Dr. Samuel Hayden and the Khan Makyr, or organisations like ARC and UAC want with you?! Guess you'll just have to read...

The Walkman was an odd device in a world full of technological advances so great that even the most profound scholars from fifty years ago could not anticipate. Once the Aregentian warriors and colonisers arrived on Earth, taking strongholds across the land, and spreading their word of the Makyr, of divinity, technology had taken a leap like never before seen in human history. It made technology such as the Walkman (which in and of itself was fading into obscurity before their new overlords’ arrival) in the young woman’s hand completely obsolete. Luckily, it was not too hard to operate the archaic technology and soon the sweet sound of heavy metal was blasting through the connected headphones as she started her daily clean.

Life was very simple, well definitely as simple and calm as one could get in the middle of a literal apocalypse from Hell. Wake up, then clean herself up, rationed breakfast. Maybe clean up a little and do some art; or if she was feeling more adventurous, explore. Today she was feeling rather adventurous, and pining for new supplies, but she had made quite the mess last night in fixing up her new passion project that should probably be cleaned up before she left the safety of her living areas. The rest of her base of operations wasn’t actually particularly dangerous considering the state of the rest of the world either. Equalling the safety of any UAC base to be sure. She was almost completely safe inside – in what was probably the most safe and comfortable place left on Earth, aside from herself and her isolation, and the only downfall was the fact that she was completely and utterly surrounded by demons. Hordes of them. They swarmed the area above her underground base in droves, literally thousands of them: imps, cacodemons, spectres, marauders, you name them, they were there. And funnily enough – she was completely safe from them as long as she stayed inside. Even if they knew she was there, which she was pretty sure they didn’t, they would have a pretty hard time getting to her and might not even bother. So there she was, finishing the last of her sweeping, small metal shavings finally making their way into the bin, surrounded by monsters from hell at all angles. And how she got there? Well that’s quite the story…

#doom #doom eternal #doomguy x reader #doomguy/reader #writing #Ao3 #prologue #female reader #no y/n all integrated #no beta

[silver-dipstick]

SenshiStock’s gallery consists of millions of pictures that are free to use as reference.

General Drawing Poses Sit and Kneel Dramatic and Reaching Drawing Poses Magic and Hogwarts Drawing Poses Staff Weapon Pose Reference Hammer, Axe and Bat Pose Reference Sword Weapon Drawing Reference Small Bladed Weapon Pose Reference Gun Weapon Pose Reference Bow and Arrow Archery Stock Foreshortening and Perspective Poses Dynamic Flying Falling Action Poses Deafeated or Laying Drawing Poses Magic Crystal Magical Girl Wand Weapon Transformations and Dance Cards Back Pose Reference Pin Up Inspired Poses for Drawing Performances Poses Life in General Poses Fights and Fighting Pose Reference Leaning Poses Classic Sailor Senshi Poses Wings Sailor Moon Villains Pairs Romance or Couples Pose Reference All the Male Stock Hanging Stock Drawing Reference Three or More Groups Instruments Mirrors Whip  Technobabble  

[silver-dipstick]

some fucking resources for all ur writing fuckin needs

* body language masterlist

* a translator that doesn’t eat ass like google translate does

* a reverse dictionary for when ur brain freezes

* 550 words to say instead of fuckin said

* 638 character traits for when ur brain freezes again

* some more body language help

(hope this helps some ppl)

[silver-dipstick]

Some words to use when writing things:

winking

clenching

pulsing

fluttering

contracting

twitching

sucking

quivering

pulsating

throbbing

beating

thumping

thudding

pounding

humming

palpitate

vibrate

grinding

crushing

hammering

lashing

knocking

driving

thrusting

pushing

force

injecting

filling

dilate

stretching

lingering

expanding

bouncing

reaming

elongate

enlarge

unfolding

yielding

sternly

firmly

tightly 

harshly

thoroughly

consistently

precision

accuracy

carefully

demanding

strictly

restriction

meticulously

scrupulously

rigorously

rim

edge

lip

circle

band

encircling

enclosing

surrounding

piercing

curl

lock

twist

coil

spiral

whorl

dip

wet

soak

madly

wildly

noisily

rowdily

rambunctiously

decadent

degenerate

immoral

indulgent

accept

take

invite

nook

indentation

niche

depression

indent

depress

delay

tossing

writhing

flailing

squirming

rolling

wriggling

wiggling

thrashing

struggling

grappling

striving

straining

[silver-dipstick]

day: i fucking love my US history teacher

history teacher: enough of the phones i’m in charge of this class listen to me!

entire class: mmhh ok

me: are you really though?

history teacher: no i’m not and we all know it

[silver-dipstick]

tiktoks when u turn the sound off be like

[silver-dipstick]

Hey don't know if you're still active but I'd like to request just some dumbass acting reader, like just getting into danger and not seeming that stressed maybe cause someone saves them or that they just know what they're doing

Sure thing- not had very much time to write but always happy for a request. (Hope you’re British btw because I’ve set this in London but it’s not to important to the story just a nod here and there.) @freerebel

Today was a totally normal, completely average, definitely not insane day. Let’s do a checklist: woke up, had breakfast (last night’s take away), gotten into a super cute outfit (if I do say so myself, and walked to the Underground. Pretty inane so far, wouldn’t you agree? Then I hopped on the tram, didn’t find a seat, but what did you expect in rush hour. Mind you it’s always rush hour in London, even on Saturday. Especially on Saturday. So back to the point- hopped of the tram at Trafalgar Square, and dashed through the swathes of people to get there on time. Where’s there? There is the PQA X ‘action’ auditions studio. I say ‘action’ because this audition was for something big, like NDA big. Who my agent did the naughty with to get me a place here was beyond me, but I’m not one to complain when fate hits me in the face with one great big whopping opportunity to make it big. While I have been in various pieces from theatre to adverts- I wanted to be on the big screen.

As I pushed into the building where the studio was supposed housed was where things went a little bit pear shaped- but not completely weird. A small reception with only two people waiting, who promptly moved on. “Here for the auditions are you dear?”, as I started nodding, not trusting myself to speak quite yet in the stylish and probably very expensive lobby, I walked forward, hopefully looking braver than I felt then, she continued, “So, what’s your name, dear?”. I quickly replied that my name was y/n, and after a moment of scanning a sheet filled with sticky labels she peeled on off and ushered me into the adjoined room to wait.

The next room, while quieter than the reception, with it’s buzzing and noises that filtered in from the high street just outside, was also louder. People didn’t speak, but there was a palpable atmosphere of fear and excitement. And everyone was reading. Reading a script. The same script. A script that I didn’t have... Welp, there goes all of your chances at anything. Big mysterious auditions with a big film company for an action film and for some reason, be it lost emails, miscommunication or otherwise, I didn’t have the audition script. In fact, I was readying to walk out the door and leave to save myself from embarrassment when the door at the end of the corridor opened and a suave man with a clipboard called my name. Damn, curse just getting here on time for my slot, I guess. Or that’s what I thought at the time.

So, nothing about my day is too crazy yet. A bit hectic, yes. Dysfunctional, yes. But crazy? No. I certainly thought I was going insane at this point though when, after walking into the centre of the room, opposite a panel of five people (who all looked to be both bored out of their minds), the guy sat right in the very middle called out, “y/n is it? Wow, I’m quite impressed first person to walk in without a script. You know what at this point you may as well just go on through.” As I turned to leave, stalking off with my head held high- I could try salvage your pride at least- I was an actor after all, he called back out again, “wrong door, mate”. A little confused, I thanked him and turned to the other door, then down the corridor and to the marked exit door. It must be so that people couldn’t tell others what happened. With a gantle push the door creaked open and I was free again, into the streets of London, looking the same but also strangely unfamiliar. But at least with that out of the way I could enjoy my Saturday, I didn’t need to worry or be on edge waiting for that phone call of whether I’d got the job of a life time or not. It was actually quite relieving.

And this is where my day got hectic. I hadn’t even noticed the two guys coming up behind me before I was roughly shoved into the alleyway that I’d just come up to. Not many dead-end alleys that were this dark or grim in London, just my luck. I could almost feel the adrenaline pumping as I went to scream, but was met with a gloved hand wrapped around my mouth. Before the panic really set in and I lashed out I remember one really distinct thought- wow these guys went all out on the ‘bad guy mugger’ look, didn’t they, bit cliché with the dragging into an alley too? But, as I said, the panic set in and in a flash I had kicked the man in holding me in the balls, and the guy who was leering behind him received a sharp punch to the jaw. Oddly enough they both really looked to feel it, I hadn’t thought I was that good of a fighter, but I guess you never know until you try. Not that I was going to push my luck though. I swiped up my small shoulder bag (which was unfortunately sullied by god knows what on the grimey floor) while shouting out for help. While my first priority was to get the hell out of there- I also wanted to make those fuckers pay, that bag was cute, god damn it! As I moved to sprint out of the alley and back onto the street where I was safer, one of the guys, who were both getting up, yanked on my ankle. Hard. Hard, hard. I slipped down, twisting my ankle and hitting my jaw hard on the floor. While this did attract a few bystanders who looked to be very concerned and raced over, it also hurt- a lot. It was great to have someone finally notice, by I’m also not a damsel in distress. Kicking out by foot and flipping over, I finally got a good look at my attackers faces, and both looked shocked and concerned. Oh what, now they can have morals? Although I probably looked angry and pretty concerned too. Sweat was probably already sticking to my face, mating my hair to my head, blood on my jaw and a hard set scowl. It could have been a scene in an action movie if anyone were recording, heh. May as well act like it- definitely proves you’re good at your job if you can ignore your agonising and rapidly swelling ankle to deliver a witty one liner, “Well I would have thought that it’d take longer to get two men on their knees for me.” With a quick wink at the men who gave each other a strange look, I pushed back up swiftly. Probably curtesy of the adrenaline still very pleasant. Could feel my blood pumping but not the pain from the graze to my jaw or throbbing ankle.

And then the bystanders arrived and I really couldn’t be more confused. Two well dressed people, who guy and one woman were smiling and congratulating me. Robert Downey Jn came up impressed and a little concerned. Three medics went to work opening up first aid kits and talking between the about my injuries. But what confused me even more was when the two muggers came up and clapped me on the back and apologised for yanking so hard. They asked if I was ok and I numbly nodded at them and they jogged off to a...makeup artist? Wait what? I then snapped my head back round to see an older guy in flannel with white hair. Stan Lee?!? “Congrats kid, best audition yet, no script, no nerves and the best real life acting I’ve seen in years. So guess what kid? You’re an avenger now.”

And as they say, the rest was history. Craziest day of my life so far at least. The entire street was a scene and I’d passed the audition with flying colours. Apparently my bravado at improvised acting and complete nonchalant attitude was a major plus and that I was gonna go far. I was quickly patched up and sent home (after signing stacks of paperwork in a daze). I’d be hearing from them soon. My agent had rung me screaming that I’d done it! I’d done it! I was a Marvel actor now! And me? I just couldn’t believe it.

So yeah, totally normal, completely average day. Wonder what tomorrow will be like

Wow ok that was longer than I anticipated. Hope you enjoyed it anyhow (even though I took a few liberties from the original request).

Silver Dipstick

#writing #request #acting #freeform

[silver-dipstick]

WORDS TO USE INSTEAD OF: RUN / RAN

Do you ever find yourself over-using the word “run” (or “ran”) in your writing? Try using these words instead:

sprint / sprinted

dash / dashed

dart / darted

bolt / bolted

race / raced

speed / sped

hurry / hurried

jog / jogged

bound / bounded

hustle / hustled

scurry / scurried

tear / tore

rush / rushed

charge / charged

barrel / barreled

zoom / zoomed

scuttle / scuttled

scamper / scampered

book it / booked it

leg it / legged it

[silver-dipstick]

wait you're 14??????

i miss november 2013. nothing important happened but i was 8 and shit was nicer

[silver-dipstick]

hi @freerebel! thanks for the support but Tumblr mobile is being practically useless as usual and won't let me message/respond to you. so sorry. i'll make sure to tag you in anything new and Sherlock related (maybe even a part two?) and if you want to request anything i've got stuff on the back burner but would love some new ideas!

[silver-dipstick]

just a quick warm up with 13

#wip #art #fan art #drawing #digital art #yes i know the colours are wrong #im waiting on my new non broken laptop #but its 1am and im using my phone #on a really bad free app #i have 8 colours #8 #literally

[silver-dipstick]

Dating 13th Doctor Headcannons (fem!reader)

- never a boring day

- could be a fast paced adventure on an alien planet you'd never even dreamt of

- could be a slow moment you wished lasted forever, eating candy floss on the pier comes to mind

- but never boring

- you being the 'smart one', well the Doctor may be one of the smartest beings in the galaxy but that's not to she she wasn't a dumbass

- "y/n.....where's the kettle?"

- "i'm pretty sure you disassembled it for something or other, dear"

- cute pet names: pet, love, big/little bean depending on your size

- taking you to the best markets in the galaxy to help you on your periods

- both of you kissing each other bruises better after a hard adventure (thankfully you both know better than to infect any other wound by kissing)

- spending a long time kissing each other's bruises better because let's face it there's a lot you're both queer disasters

- her looking out for you on adventures and going a little insane when you get hurt

- having to reign her in when she goes too far without realising it

- taking days off to both rest and have cute dates

- uninhabited jungle world where you swan at midnight

- 13 being surprisingly good at those corny carnival games and winning you the biggest plushie

- crystalline spas in one of the TARDIS' many many spa rooms

- the TARDIS really liking you

- like goes out of its way to help you

- a beautiful room that it always moves to where it's needed

- by the console room when you're tired

- by wherever 13 is when you're having a nightmare

- 13 gently coaxing what happened out of you when you do, snuggling you gently and just listening to you

- humming and stroking you to get you back off to sleep or if you can't it's hot coco in the console room, doors open to the universe, or just sat in the kitchen (at least one of you on the counter)

- if she has a nightmare it can be hard to tell until you move into the same room

- quiet whimpering and tossing in the early hours

- consoling her as she cry's and tells you the stories of lovers, friends, brothers, all those she's lost to time

- but most of all, it's the ways she tells you she loves you that take centre stage

- whispers under her breath as you take charge and save lives, always amazing her

- loud proclamations to the universe when she's just completely bursting with love for you

- silent 'i love you's told only by her eyes or the way she takes your hand in hers and tells you:

run

[silver-dipstick]

Happy Go Lucky (13/fem!reader)

This was nice. Just you and the Doctor, no one else. No companions rushing about, there was an absence of time travel shenanigans and there was certainly no end of the world catastrophes threatening to tear them apart. Well, not immenent ones anyway. So you were here, snuggled in together by a rustic fire place, thick windows barricading you from the blizzard outside and one large comfy throw completing the perfect winter scene. The blanket reminded you of 13 too, blues and yellows and all sorts of colours really, an odd combination but loveable all the same. Just like her. It's almost as if it were planned- "Are you alright, pet? You look as if you're a million miles away," the small woman beside you interrupted your thoughts. "hmm? oh yes, love, I was just thinking about how perfect this is. If I knew the TARDIS had a room like this before, I would have come here more often." It was then that a sort of mischievous smirk made its way up her face, no matter how hard she tried to keep it down. It was a fairly rare expression for her, but the playful smile was all the more treasured with its rarity. "Welllll, technically it wasn't until I asked the TARDIS to make it up for me today. I know you miss home, pet, and well the TARDIS does seem to really like you you know", as she's saying this she reaches down and claps your hand holding it tighly in her own and brings it up to her heart. "I really really really like you too you know, in fact, I'd say I love you, but even then it might be an understatement." With a gentle smile and a little eskimo kiss you worked your way down onto her chest until you were pressed right against her, squeezing her tightly, "I love you too."

//Just a little bit of fluff to lighten your day//

[silver-dipstick]

Are you sure? (Sherlock/sister reader)

//this is not incest but platonic/kidnapping and violence trigger warning//

This Saturday seemed like any other normal Saturday, well as normal as it can be with Sherlock as both a brother and a roommate. Go be honest, you thought you were done with his incessant whining until your apartment had a 'sudden fire' of 'unknown cause' at the same time you had declined helping Sherlock on a case. He had politely insisted you stay with him until the work was fixed- and well you weren't about to refuse free housing and food on account of helping him for a few weeks. Not that you were a genius or anything, smarter than average, yes. Genius? no. But to Sherlock you were a fresh set of eyes that was accustomed to his rather unethical methods.

But alas, we come back to the present. While this Saturday 'seemed' like any other Saturday, it was not. You had quickly discovered this fact with your oh-so-brilliant powers of deduction when you woke up with your hands tied above your head with just enough strain to become uncomfortable and a heaving chest that meant you were likely going to bruise. Great. At least there was no headache yet. Stretching your limbs out a bit and trying to rearrange yourself so your bum was more comfortable against the concrete was farely hopeless. You did however, feel warmer than the place looked, which you counted as a plus.

With a resounding crack the iron door slammed into the wall. And of all the people- "Moriarty?!" you exclaimed,"I'm not going to lie wasn't expecting a dead man walking to be well, walking I guess?". With a smile that had quite literally made murderers pee their pant he chuckled and slinked into the cell. "Well y/n what a surprise indeed and don't fret yet, I'm not going to hurt you, I'm-", he was quickly cut off,"yeah, yeah, I guessed, what exciting new game have you devised now, hmm? I'm bait I assume. Hate to tell you but Sherlock won't come. If only because he knows I'll slap him if he comes. And he's been slapped numerous times by me- and trust me- he won't want a repeat. Except this time I won't slap him i guess..." at this point you were out of breath, and Moriaty had an (actually quite adorable) face of confusion as he tried to process your jumbled rant. "Wait....why won't you slap him?" he retorted, still reeling from your sassy and sarcastic slap back. With all of his 'wah wah wah I'm going to skin you and turn you into shoes wah wah' these days people tended to bow to his every whim. In all honesty he was getting quite bored with his power. Your reply was calm, effective, and also quite possibly the funniest thing he'd heard in years," Well, the last time i slapped him he was 19. Still young and chubby cheeked. But look at him now! If I tried to slap those cheekbones I'd do more damage to myself! They'd just cut right through me. It's really a shame that I didn't inherit those cheekbones. I'd piss people off just to try and get them to slap those sharp af motherfuckers."

"Seriously, what is it with you people?" you cried out, "First I'm bait in some diabolical plan to destroy my brother, then I'm free because I made you laugh so hard that a vein popped out?!" After a second's pause you reconsidered, "You know what nevermind. You're crazy and I'm free so jokes on you." Walking down the road as the adrenaline wore off. Wait. Where were you? This most certainly wasn't London. Well this was going to be an even longer day yet.

#sherlock #sister #fanfic #sherlock fanfic #sherlock fandom #fandom #writing