drhxnkmccoy

[drhxnkmccoy]

you can donate to the minnesota freedom fund to bail out protestors here. I donated $10. if you see this, will you either match my donation or reblog to spread it?

[drhxnkmccoy]

for people who are unaware of why the riots in minneapolis started happening, here’s the facts:

it wasn’t george floyd’s protesters who started reacting violently; it was the cops.

the protest was peaceful until the cops showed up in riot gear, and started using water cannons, followed up by tear gas and rubber bullets. i got videos from friends who were there, of people screaming and running away from the cops shooting the water cannons, rubber bullets and throwing tear gas at them. they were even shooting at the protesters dragging people away to get medical attention.

speaking of medical attention, dispatch refused to provide any medical attention to the protesters. people literally had to drive their bleeding friends to the hospital because they refused to send ambulances.

cops are using non-lethal weapons in a lethal way. they shot rubber bullets into people’s heads and injured them. there’s dozens of photos of protesters with bleeding head wounds from the rubber bullets.

multiple people used police scanners and heard that there were undercover cops pretending to be violent protesters who were throwing rocks and whatnot at the police, with dozens of eyewitness accounts confirming that information.

the person who instigated all the chaos last night (it was a fire at an autozone) with the looting and burning buildings is highly suspected to be an undercover cop pretending to be a protester, because the video of him keeps getting taken down. protesters tried to stop him but couldn’t because he had a hammer and they were scared for their safety.

the cops jammed cell phone towers and cut live streams to interrupt broadcasts and to prevent people from seeing what was really going on and who actually started the violence.

the cops lied about protesters being armed and about throwing rocks and are literally trying to continue the violence happening and yet no one is holding them accountable for that.

and during all this, the cop that murdered george floyd still hasn’t been arrested. he has had more than ten complaints filed against him and was involved in three other civilian shootings in the past. and yet he’s still out free along with his three other buddies involved, probably sitting on his couch while all this chaos is happening.

so don’t get it twisted. the cops just want to change the narrative to make it look like they’re the wounded and righteous party, when they’re the ones who started reacting violently in the first place and are still acting violently. so don’t you ever forget who started this tragedy and murdered someone, and who are continuing to react to the situation with violence. 

[drhxnkmccoy]

Darling! I just found your blog and I just wanted to know witch characters u write for, so I can send some request

hi lovey!! i write for marvel cinematic universce (mcu) characters & x-men cinematic universe (is that a thing?) characters.

so including, but not limited to...

- peter parker

- hank mccoy

- warren worthington (my lil angel)

- bucky barnes

- steve rogers

and so so many more! send me a request :-)

[drhxnkmccoy]

just checking in!

how’s everyone doing during this pandemic? i’ve been trying to cope with writing but honestly the consistency in scenery isn’t helping. i understand that this is the best thing we can do now, but it still sucks.

my inbox is open if anyone needs to talk! stay safe, and send me some requests :-)

[drhxnkmccoy]

i just died and went to heaven

[drhxnkmccoy]

I Just found your story Magic and OMG SOOOO AMAZING 😍😍😍😍

aw thank you so much!! i’m honestly still trying to figure out what’ll come next so stay tuned!!

[drhxnkmccoy]

i got nothing done today BUT i have established the fact that i am in love with warren worthington

[drhxnkmccoy]

Could I get a peter x reader fic where the reader gets sent back in time and has to live in the 80s mansion? Reader has pyrokinesis

i’m sorry i suck and it took me literally over a year to post this but here it is finally! sticking with the eighties theme, you can read if i could turn back time here!

[drhxnkmccoy]

If I Could Turn Back Time - Peter Maximoff x Reader

a/n: hi guys! i know. i’ve been gone for a REALLY long time. i’m really sorry! sporadic posting seems to be my calling. our holiday season at my store was absolutely insane and between forty hours a week and school i kind of forgot about this. sorry i kinda suck! anyway! this one was a request and it was super fun to write, i was a little bit stuck on the idea but i think it turned out pretty cool. i hope you guys enjoy! please leave me some requests too, i’m trying to get back into the groove of writing whilst we’re all under quarantine :)

Summary: Y/N has no idea what she did, or how she got there. But she knows exactly who she’s with.

She wasn’t quite sure how she got there. Hell, she was completely and totally baffled as to how she got there - nonetheless, how she would get back. As Y/N stood up from the charred grass around her, she stared in awe at the huge mansion in front of her, surrounded by a picturesque blue sky and fluffy white clouds. The image reminded her of a painting, too beautiful to be true. She slowly started walking towards the house, taking note that the beautiful watch Peter had given her was gone. A frown took shape on her face, but she resigned to getting out of here first and finding the watch later. As she knocked on the big, wooden door, she looked up, taking in the beautiful exterior and woodwork that graced the white walls and how the sun shone brightly off the roof. Honestly? She wished the mansion still looked like this.

“Can I help you?”

She looked back down to see a teenaged boy with silver hair holding the door open for her. He wore black jeans and a metallic, silver jacket. His hair would have fallen into his eyes if not for the goggles that sat on the crown of his head. His goofy little smile, though: that was what she recognized. As if she could ever forget the way his lips curled up, showing off his dimples like a model.

“Peter?” She gasped, awestruck at how… young he looked. He couldn’t be more than nineteen, and the whole concept quite frankly freaked her out.

“Uh. Yeah. Do I know you, or something?” He squinted his eyes at her, trying to think of how he could possibly know her, “You’re not a cop, right?”

“No!” She laughed, watching as relief flooded his features, “I… well, I’m not really sure how to explain who I am. Could you, uh, tell me what year it is first?”

Peter quirked his eyebrow, looking around in the background behind her. Maybe she was a spy? Peter’s head spun, as he went back and forth trying to come up with where this mysterious chick could have come from and how she knew him.

“It’s 1982. Seriously, where the hell did you come from?”

1982? She hadn’t realized how far she had gone back. Panic started to run through her veins as she suddenly became painfully aware of how far away from home she was, with no knowledge of how to return. Y/N began to breathe heavily, as Peter’s presence started to fade in light of her sudden anxiety.

“Whoa, hey. Calm down. It’s okay - WHOA!” Peter took a step back as she took in a sharp breath and her hair caught fire as if she was a tree struck by lightning. “How did you…” he took a second to watch the flames dance through her hair, understanding just why she wasn’t screaming out horribly in pain, “Are you a mutant?”

Y/N closed her eyes, trying to focus on the situation at hand. Her anxiety lingered, but the calm she was trying to force upon herself was able to subside it - for the most part. She felt the heat begin to die down and soon enough, the flames began to extinguish. 

“Uhhh… okay. Okay, this is fine. Everything is fine,” Peter mumbled to himself as he watched the flames disappear. What would Charles say in this situation? He knew exactly what Charles would say. Peter could practically hear Charles’ voice in his head, telling him to invite her in. “Do you, uh, want to come in?”

Y/N opened her eyes. The anxiety had faded and she had zoned back in at the sound of Peter’s invitation. Noting the look of mild terror on Peter’s face, she nodded, “Yes.. yes I would. Thank you.”

The mansion looked ginormous, and it only got bigger as she stepped inside. A huge staircase that split and went two ways as you opened the door, classrooms to the right and dormitories to the left. It looked almost the same as when Charles had recruited her, sometime around 2012. She gazed around in awe as Peter shut the door, unsure of what to do next.

“As interesting as this has been, I’m curious. Where the hell did you come from? You’re obviously a mutant… are you here looking for Professor? If you are, you couldn’t have come at a better time, considering he’s THE PROFESSOR again..” Peter babbled, mostly to himself, at a speed faster than she could comprehend.

“The Professor? Professor Xavier is here?” Y/N found a bit of hope in that statement. Hopefully, Charles would know what was going on and how she could be here… Charles always knew what to do, even when he didn’t.

“Yeah! I mean, no. Usually, yes. But I guess there was some type of emergency, like there always is, and well, I mean, if you know the professor you know he’s always the first one out there to solve the problem. So right now? It’s just you and me.”

“Was that your convoluted way of telling me Charles is on a mission?” Y/N sighed - young Peter was a lot more… zealous, she’d say, than adult Peter.

“Yeah! Wait - how do you know about missions? Wait - never mind, you’re a mutant. Duh, Peter”, he shook his head, “Are you one of Charles’ students? You look kind of old to still be a student,” Peter tilted his head.

Y/N shook her head, “Uh… yes. You could say I’m… a student of Charles.” It wasn’t a lie - she had been a student of Charles.

“Oh.. cool. Well, you can hang until he gets back. Oh! We should order a pizza!” Peter’s mind quickly got occupied and he turned to search through a drawer filled with take out menus. 

“Peter! Focus! I need your help.” Y/N was too impatient to sit around and wait for Charles, maybe Peter knew something about how and why she was here - she could only hope that the butterfly effect wouldn’t somehow ruin their relationship in the future.

“Whoa, okay. What?” Peter didn’t look up from the drawer, but Y/N knew her next words would change that.

“I’m from the future. I don’t know how and why I’m here, just that I don’t belong here and I have to get back.”

Peter’s eyes practically bugged out of his head. 

“Whoa! The future! Wait, that’s so crazy because a couple years ago some guy came back from the future - he was all mean and grumpy, maybe you guys are from the same place! Wait, what year did you come from?” Peter struggled to focus on one point at a time, as usual.

“2020. I’m from 2020. I - Wait, grumpy? Are you talking about Logan?” Y/N shook her head, “Nevermind that. I just need to figure out how to get back to where I came from.”

“Hmm. Sucks. I don’t know anything about time travel. But hey, tell me about the future!” Peter zoomed beside her, and in the two seconds it took her to turn and face him, he was already cozy on the couch.

Y/N approached the couch as well, wondering if it was really her place to tell him what the future holds - what if she told him about their relationship and then it never happened? She didn’t want to change the course of history.

“Well…” She sheepishly took a seat beside him, “There’s… a lot of big stuff that happens in the future. For one,” she pointed at the small television seated upon a cart at the door of Charles’ office, “there are televisions four times the size of that. And there are more than three channels. And -”

“That’s cool! Hey, are the X-Men still a thing? Oh, and who’s the president? Oh, hey, do you know me in the future?” Peter cut her off with the force of his questions.

This was it. Would Y/N tell him? Would that endanger their future together?

“I… do. Yes, I know you in the future.” She smiled at the way his eyes lit up when she said that. 

“No way! Are we friends?”

Her voice was caught in her throat. She knew Peter - he was a curious guy, this question was to be expected. And yet, she still had no answer for him.

“We -”

“My, my, Miss Y/N.” She was cut off by Charles’ arrival, the wheels of his chair squeaking slightly as he entered the room. “How nice it is to see you again.”

He looked so… different. Y/N had never seen Charles with hair before - only in pictures. 

“Professor,” she stood and shook his hand, “it’s always a pleasure.”

“I believe this,” he pulled her watch out of his pocket, “belongs to you.”

Y/N looked at him with large, wide eyes. He had found her watch! This meant he had to know what she was doing here. Right?

“Whoa,” Peter glanced over the couch, “My dad has a watch, like, exactly like that.”

Charles grinned at Y/N, trying to hold back a laugh at the look of confusion mixed with terror on her face, “As lovely as it is to see you, darling, unfortunately we’ve got much to do today. Peter should be studying for that quiz tomorrow, hm?”

Peter’s eyes widened and before Y/N could even blink, he was gone.

Charles laughed, heading towards the door,” Perhaps, if you don’t mind visiting on another day,” Charles was already escorting her out the door.

“But, Professor -”

“Don’t worry, dear,” Charles opened the door for her, “I’m sure whatever it is,” he winked, “can wait a little bit.” 

And with that, he shut the door.

Y/N gasped, opening her eyes to see the dingy walls of her office. She stood from her desk chair, looking around the familiar room. The ceiling looked like it was about to cave in, the wood beginning to rot. The paint on the walls was peeling, adding to the old, abandoned look of the room. Everything looked like what she remembered - not what she had seen.

“Babe?”

She whipped around to see Peter standing at the door, “Are you coming? I thought you were supposed to be done with class, like, an hour ago - Whoa! Okay!” Peter stumbled back as she ran into his arms.

“What year is it?” Y/N looked up at him - he was the Peter that she had come to know and love. 

He looked at her with a look of concern, “Are you okay? It’s 2020, crazy. Are you sick?” Peter held a hand up to her forehead, which she quickly slapped away.

“I’m fine,” Y/N straightened out her skirt, “I’m sorry. I guess I just… lost track of time. But I’m done, let’s go.”

Peter grinned and took her arm, leading her away from the office, “Wow, nice watch,” he winked, drawing her attention to the beautiful piece of jewelry he’d given her, “Wonder who could have given it to you. So, how was your day?”

“Crazy. Like you wouldn’t believe…”

[drhxnkmccoy]

Love & Other Drugs - Quentin Beck x Reader

a/n: it’s been quite some times! i’m so sorry for my absence. between a promotion, school ending + moving, it’s been crazy. here’s a little something i whipped up after watching spiderman: far from home! i love jake gyllenhaal and love & other drugs is one of my favorite movies... i thought quentin applied well in this situation (or at least i would like to imagine so). some other requested imagines will be up VERY SOON. enjoy!

Summary: Quentin’s never said the words before, especially to someone he thought was disposable. Now that he’s afraid to let go, there’s only one question: does she feel the same?

Quentin tried his hardest to shut the door quietly behind him. He took off his jacket and tossed his oil-stained lab gloves atop the pile of dirty laundry that was overflowing from the hamper in the corner of his apartment. He slid into bed, not as stealthily as he had intended as he felt (Y/N) turn over beside him.

“Did you get laid?” She asked casually, rolling onto her back.

“Oh, yeah,” a smile pulled at his lips, “William’s a great fuck.”

She laughed, encouraging his smile to fully present itself. He leaned down, kissing her neck as she continued to speak.

“I was afraid you were.”

He tilted his head up to look at her, eyebrows raised. Afraid? The gears started turning in Quentin’s head and he realized that she was didn’t want him to be seeing other girls. She wanted him to herself. Quentin pondered the thought of the two of them… forever. He’d been with a lot of girls, more specifically he’d broken up with a lot of girls. He never considered himself the type of guy to just settle down and be in a relationship - he always had to be rogue and unpredictable, but now he as he imagined himself waking up besides other girls, the only thing he could think was that these other girls just weren’t her. He snickered, a smirk appearing on his lips, “You’re crazy.”

His lips connected with hers and he felt her hands start to tug at his hair. He usually lived for the feeling of her hands in his hair, but this time something started to tug at his heart strings and after a moment his heart completely dropped into his stomach, leaving his chest with a wild, empty feeling and his stomach with butterflies.

She opened her eyes as she felt his lips separate from hers, immediately noticing the look on his face and the way he couldn’t seem to catch his breath.

“What? Is everything okay?”

Quentin couldn’t find the words to answer her. Both of his arms had begun shaking, and everytime his brain thought of something to say his tongue fucked it up.

“Honey, your heart is beating really fast.” Both of (Y/N)’s hands were on his chest now, the feeling of her palms atop his dress shirt burning into his skin.

Quentin sat up, panting as (Y/N) followed suit. She crossed her legs and watched as he loosened the cheap tie around his neck in an effort to take in some air. (Y/N) leans in a tad closer, tugging Quentin’s old tee shirt over her knees in an effort to warm herself in the blanket’s absence. Quentin liked to keep the windows open, and even though it froze her she always obliged. Every night she hoped that the cold would bring him closer to her, and every morning she woke up tied between the sheets and his arms.

“Q, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I, uh,” he stumbled, the words stuck in his throat as he tried to find the best way to tell her, finally producing what could only be described as word vomit,  “oh... I love you.”

(Y/N)’s whole demeanor changed, confusion mixed with panic taking over her face, “What?”

“Oh, God... I...” He took a deep breath, hands still shaking as he closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down.

“Uh..” (Y/N) had no idea how to respond. Love? She hadn’t signed up for love. She hadn’t signed up for any of this, really. If she had just ordered her coffee ahead of time instead of waiting in line, she never would have met Quentin Beck and she wouldn’t be in this position.

“Just give me your number,” he’d said, flashing her a smile that most girls wouldn’t be able to say no to. She could see the arrogance in his eyes and how he thought he had her all figured out.

“Oh yeah? What’s in it for me?” She shot back over folded arms.

She noticed the slight crack in his composure - she was sure no girl had ever questioned his motives. His smooth smile didn’t budge as he shrugged, “I’ll take you out for dinner, some drinks… maybe a little bit of dancing.”

She rolled her eyes at his offer, knowing damn well what an attractive man like him wanted with a pretty girl like her.

“Not interested. But you throw sex on the table, and you have yourself a deal.”

She grinned at how he completely lost his smooth placidity and took a moment just to stare at her. His smile returned once he realized she was being serious, this time much darker than before as he shook his head, “I’m gonna have fun with you.”

That was all it was supposed to be. Sex. No more, no less.

“No,” she said firmly, shaking her head with confidence. There was no way Quentin could love her. She hadn’t even been sure if Quentin was capable of such an emotion - she’d seen the way he treated some of his employees. As out of control as his temper could get, he’d never unleashed it on her. No, she told herself. It just wasn’t possible. Quentin didn’t love her. She reached out to steady him, “No, you don’t.”

“Don’t touch me!” He pulled his arms in tight, and she quickly withdrew her hand from his shoulder.

“Okay! Okay, I’m sorry, um, no.. really, it’s fine,” the words escaped her lips at the speed of bullets as she talked over his apologies to try and calm him, “You want some water? Let me get you some water..”

“Yes, water,” Quentin gasped. How did this happen? He had been surprised enough when the pretty girl in the coffee line beat him to the punch. He was now even more surprised that his fling of the month had grown into something way more complicated than he anticipated.

(Y/N)’s feet padded across his apartment floor, water spilling slightly from the overfilled glass. “Here,” she shoved the glass into his hands, “drink, drink it.”

Quentin chugged the tepid glass of water, gathering his thoughts as the calm rushed over him. He sighed, thinking about all the time they had shared. He thought about how everything had started, how rigid and stiff their bodies moved together and how before he had time to roll over, she was half dressed and out the door. He thought about how time went on, and they went from awkward sex to enjoying each other’s company, to staying the night, to taking care of each other. All the laughs, all of the moments... everything he could have ever asked for, only he didn’t have to. She knew what he needed.

“I love you.” He was much more confident in his words now that he was calm.

“You don’t mean that -“

“You don’t understand.” Quentin cut her off, a hand instinctively reaching to grip her wrist, his whole life flashing before his eyes as he thought of all the people he never had a chance to love, “My father was a fucking loser. He couldn’t have given a shit about me if he tried. My mother passed away after I was born. I.. I’ve never had anyone who...” Quentin paused, avoiding the stare of a now intent and concentrated (Y/N). “I’ve never said that... before.”

“Never?” She wanted so badly to hug him. Her brain raced to find a way to make him feel better, to make him feel a little less serious about the whole situation, “I... um.. I once said it to a cat?”

Quentin paused, taking deep breaths as he pondered what she had said. Maybe it wasn’t that serious. Maybe love didn’t mean as much as he thought it did. Maybe she just didn’t love him like he loved her.

“Okay... okay, that makes me feel a little better..”

A pit had begun to form in (Y/N)’s chest. She’d never thought about love much before now. She felt her frozen heart begin to melt as she watched the way he took in breaths. Did she love Quentin? Was she just being possessive of him? Did she really want this forever?

“You can, uh, hold me, now..” Quentin leaned into her side, and she mumbled a word of acknowledgement against his ear as she wrapped her arms around him.

As Quentin sunk into her arms and the two of them slowly crashed back against the pillows, she felt the same tug at her heart.

Oh yeah. She loved him, too.

[drhxnkmccoy]

[drhxnkmccoy]

[drhxnkmccoy]

I AM BACK

hi guys!!

i know i am the absolute worst for leaving all of you hanging and i’m sorry!! i got busy with school & work (up for a manager position!) but i am BACK and will be fulfilling the current requests in my inbox one at a time.

in the mean time, i just saw spiderman ffh and WOW. jake gyllenhaal can fucking destroy me.

send me some requests!

[drhxnkmccoy]

reblog for roger taylor

or simply suffer.

[drhxnkmccoy]

yEAAAHHHHH [crashes through door] ITS THE WAY YOU LET ME THROW YOU ACROSS THE BED [throws chair at wall] GOT YOU RUNNING THROUGH MY HEAD [breaks table] when i KNOW i sHOULD be slEEPING

[drhxnkmccoy]

John, running into the room: Roger, I just did something terrible!

Roger, immediately jumping up: It’s okay! I have a shovel!

John: Wait, what? What do you think I did?

Roger: It doesn’t matter mate, nobody will ever know.

[drhxnkmccoy]

this man never fails to kill me with his good looks

280/∞ photos of Sebastian Stan just because…