#i added some stuffs for people who read his intro already
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✮⋆˙ every serious boy needs his silly girl!; jason grace x vlogging! daughter of persephone! reader blurb
content: jason grace x vlogging! daughter of persephone! reader blurb
warning: language and like...baby allusions to sexual stuff but barely, ya know???
author's note: the tags for this series is getting so confusing bc like...nicos not in this one but yall need to read the previous vlogging daughter of persephone to understand the full scope of it, ya know?? so if yall are running into this on the jason page, ig you could read it as a stand alone but i promise the other parts are just as good!! (not the self promo gag me with a spoon frfr) anyways, trust, there will be a part two for this one, you already know 🫡🫡🫡🫡
"howdy yall," you mused into the camera, cringing slightly but carrying on, "clearly, will is rubbing off on me. anyways, soooooo mom and dad's like 3005th anniversary is coming up and they're just sooooo in love that they're renewing their vows. cute but most importantly, they're having a party!!! sooooo, off to the mall we go."
"wait, turn that song up," a male voice mused from your left, a smile instantly gracing your lips. you leaned forwards but made sure to keep the boy out of view, knowing it would drive people crazy as it was clearly not nico or will or percy.
"okay, okay, just interrupt my intro, that's cool," you laughed, twisting the knob and turning the song up nonetheless. 'love grows (where my rosemary goes)' played slightly louder through the car, your lips mouthing along to some of them.
"wait- really? im so sorry," the voice panicked but you just laughed more, evidently leaning your hand over and resting it on him to calm him down.
"no, im messing with you, jase."
"you suck."
"duh! anyways, before i was so rudely interrupted, we're off to the mall to get me a new dress. nico had a date with will or he would've come with. jk, he still wouldn't have come, he hates shopping. oh, speaking of which, remind me to grab him a pair of white socks. dad said he needed them or something, i don't remember. okay, so i didn't want to go shopping alone, so i dragged my buddy here out with me!!!" you cheered into the camera, reaching over and cupping jason's chin with your hands as you put the camera on him. he just smiled and rolled his eyes at your antics, trying desperately to keep his eyes on the road and not the girl next to him.
"say hi jason," you gushed, puckering your lipgloss coated lips at the boy, who couldn't help but flirt his eyes from the road to them.
"hey," he breathed out, flashing a smile at the camera before you were pulling it back to yourself, curling up in the passenger seat.
"he's camera shy, don't mind him," you fake-whispered into the camera with a wink.
"i'll make you walk the rest of the way, don't play with me," joked jason, which had you rolling your eyes into the camera.
"you'd never."
"you're right, i wouldn't."
you darted your eyes to the boy, completely forgetting that you had a camera capturing every minute of your blush.
"how crazy would it be if i did a cartwheel in this mall rn?" you asked jason, later, as you guys walked through the mall. you pointed the camera up at him, watching as he put on a show pretending to think it over.
"pretty crazy, id say. but, please don't, yn-"
"hold the camera, hold the camera," you cut in with a laugh, shoving the camera into his hand and also handing him your purse, which he easily slipped onto his shoulder. jason sighed audibly as you did a cartwheel in the mall, nearly falling on your ass during the landing but cheering as you didn't. jason was muttering things about your safety as you came rushing back, beaming a bright smile.
"did ya see that?? stuck the landing and everything!" you cheered to the camera, clearly proud of yourself as jason returned your purse with a soft smile and roll of his eyes. '
"yeah, yeah. get a move on. next thing you know, you'll be doing backflips off the lounge chairs," jason added and you looked up at him with a smirk, that had his smile slipping.
"wait, hold the camera, real quick-"
"no, yn."
"awwww, you're no fun."
"yup. that's me. the buzzkill that doesn't want to drive you to the hospital with a split skull."
"i'd land it!!"
"yeah, okay."
"you jerk!"
once more, the video cut to jason holding the camera, just messing around as he zoomed in and out on himself in a mirror. he was clearly in a shop, sitting outside the fitting rooms like a good boyfriend would.
"jason, talk to them!! i'll have to cut all this out if you're boring!" you called from a dressing room and jason rolled his eyes before turning the camera to himself.
"okay, okay. yn's yelling at me. she's trying on a few dresses right now. i think ones, like, yellow and kinda silky lookin? and that one has ruffles...maybe?? anyways, she also picked out a blue one and red one. i'm placing my bets on the red one because it's like a nice deep red, ya know?? yn loves that color, it reminds her of her mom," jason rambled into the camera before a door was heard creaking open, his smile widening as he looked up from the camera and assumable at you.
"stop spilling my secrets. how am i supposed to remain mysterious and cool girl chic if you tell them all my secrets??" you whined, leaning against the doorway in a soft yellow midi dress, ruffles galore.
"sorry, forget that i mentioned yn's favorite color," jason winked into the camera before turning it to the girl, who did a few fake poses that left the couple laughing.
"is it the one?" questioned jason as yn stood in front of the mirror, tilting her head as she inspected it, "because i really think that yellow is your color."
"you're so sweet, jase, but lemme try on the others. i do like the ruffles but is it giving 3005th anniversary?" you asked with a teasing smile and jason breathed out a chuckle as you returned to the dressing room. jason returned the camera to himself, swallowing as he pretended to not notice his change in shade.
"yn's really...she's something," he breathed into the camera, shaking his head slightly as he leaned back against the wall, staring off into space.
"jase-face, the blue one is so bad you don't even get to see it. you'd projectile vomit!" you called from the changing room and jason laughed.
"i promise you i wont!! c'mon, show me," he prompted, keeping his eyes locked on the door to the changing room.
"okay, okay. you get to see, but not the camera," you giggled and jason was instantly covering the camera with his hand. he told you that you were good and viewers could hear the door creaking open.
"what are you even talking about?? you look so good, yn. that blue is so your color," jason's voice cooed.
"shut up! i thought zeus' golden boy couldn't tell lies or whatever."
"that's george washington."
"same thing!"
"ouch!" jason replied and your giggles were clearly heard, "okay, if you don't like it, don't get it. i don't want you to be uncomfortable, ya know?"
"you just don't miss, do ya, grace?"
"not my style," jason mused as the door shut once more. he waited a few more seconds, to recoup himself, before uncovering the camera and leaning towards it with a whisper, "she looked amazing, don't let her lie to you guys."
"okay! i think this is the dress, jase. if you hate it, shut the fuck up, okay?" you called through the door for the final time and jason rolled his eyes at the camera.
"yes, ma'am."
"ta da!! am i a pretty princess or what?" you giggled as you swung the door open, showing off the deep red dress. it had a low neck line that jason was quick to dart is eyes away from a thin spiral of ruffles that went all the way down the dress. all of this was paired with a low back as well.
"the prettiest of princesses," jason breathed out, the camera slightly slipping in his hands as he couldn't seem to pull his eyes from you. you shyly darted your eyes away but you couldn't hide your smile.
"gods, that's your color, for sure."
"jason, you've said that to every color," you laughed, jutting out your hip and giving him a pointed look. jason flashed you a smile.
"that's because every color is your color."
"you cheeseball!" you laughed, shooting forwards and softly smacking his arm, unable to hide your wide grin or blushy cheeks.
"you love cheeseballs though!" mocked jason, which earned him another smack to his shoulder before you marched towards the dressing room to change for the final time. you stopped as you reached the door, looking over your shoulder at the boy.
"hey, wanna come help me with the zipper, sparky?" you offered, smirking. and jason was instantly setting the camera down and jumping out of his seat to follow you into the dressing room, the door shutting with a harsh shove.
the video cut to you attempting to do a backflip off one of the lounge chairs, landing solidly on your ass. jason was worriedly handling the camera, the video turning blurring as he rushed to you lying on the ground, whining and laughing slightly. underneith the video, in large block letters, were the words 'do not try this at home. ive got a massive bruise on my ass and a teenage boy showed me up by doing it correctly two minutes after me, which is really embarrassing. also, jason did not let us stop for iced coffee bc he was mad at me for getting hurt.'
1.7 comments:
@/user.1: IS HE HER BOYFRIEND??? YALL WHAT IS GOING ON RN??? DOES YN HAVE A SECRET BLONDE BOYFRIEND??? OR IS HE JUST A FRIEND?? WE NEED THE FBI ON THIS CASE IMMEDIATELY
@/underworlds.favs: no comment 🤐🤐
@/user.2: did he just- did he go into the dressing room with her??? girl is this a hard launch or a soft launch i can't tell-
@/underworlds.favs: what? he was just helping me with my zipper. no other reason 🤭🤭
@/user.2: girl, that dress did NOT have a zipper do not play with me rn-
@/jason.grace: you still need a plus one to that party?
@/underworlds.favs: for you? always. how can i silly girl without my serious boy??
@/underworlds.favs: STOP USING OUR SHARED ACCOUNT TO RIZZ UP BLONDE BOYS - an angry nico
#postcards from covey ౨ৎ#all my love ౨ৎ#hoo#pjo#pjo fandom#nico di angelo#jason grace#jason grace x y/n
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(Writerblr) intro post!
Hi! welcome to my blog! this is my (very late) writerblr/general/artblr intro, or just somewhere with all my general informations :)
please, go on and read *bows*
☆ Ash is my name on here and i go by she/her
★ Im a teen writer and artist, but i dream of acting
☆ im from italy
★ pan ace and quoiromantic (or wtfromantic its the same) (im still kinda questioning tho??? probs demiromantic??? idk?? feelings r weird atm)
☆ entp and introvert
★ im always up for tag games or stuff like that :)
☆ recently added tags! #ash writes- my writing ofc #ash and her rants- just me talking abt random stuff could be anything serious or not #ash on fire- probs me fangirling over something lol i may get overexcited beware
★ i relate to a spiritual and psychological level to black cats and all theur other forms (aka regulus black, tori spring, aristotle mendoza etc etc etc)
i mostly write fantasy or fanfiction, but sometimes i engage in various genres as mystery, dystopian or surrealism :)
★ So I've been scheming like a criminal ever since
genre: fanfiction
audience: general/ teen and up
tropes: rivals to lovers, college AU, slow burn, a lot of fencing, paris✨
cw/tw: past rape/non con, ptsd, homophobia, wounds/blood
progress: i try to update every week but nothing's promised 🥲
snippet here:
Years ago he’d learned to mask his handwriting, so now he could easily forge any handwriting he wanted, if he was given a good example of it being used.
There was something extremely interesting in how each person connected two letters to each other.
How they wrote an “ar” was different from how they would write an “or”, how much the words were apart from each other and how much pressure they put in the paper told a lot about someone, to him it was like zodiac signs.
He didn’t always have to copy other handwritings, not unless he wanted to throw the blame on that person.
He just had to invent a brand new writing style, and be careful to not slip his between the cracks.
And that’s exctly what he did in the letter.
Before Jesper could finish his monologue about how much he had missed out in the past few months holed up in his office, a blackmail threat was ready to be closed inside the paper envelope, just the signature was missing, but he didn’t bother to add it.
A proper threat always had to be anonymous, it was always better to give as little information you could.
Everything could be used against you.
The maroon wax sealed the opening with a satisfying fizzling and a single wisp of smoke.
The clock chimed on the wall, it was already 6 pm, he had to go finish some assignments.
(previously titled: questionable decisions)
☆ The Rogue
genre: fantasy, dystopian
audience: teen and up
setting: a fantasy world im currently busy (trying) building
progress: just vibes really, two mainc characters, a couple sides and an outline plus one of the first chapters, not much really but im working on it
characters:
anne: the rogue from where i took the title.
shes a 17 y/o girl who lives in a bunker in a forest, on the run from the government as she's a "high traitor and liar who must be destroyed".
she has the ability to modify her face and appereance for a while and she has a prosthetic arm connected to her virtual friend Indigo.
thanks to it she's able to teleport and keep track of various things.
alexander: the son of the dictator, he's lived his life in a bubble until 2 years ago, when he finally managed to get more social contacts with people and (slightly) catch up on what he's missed, behind his father's back of course.
he meets anne when she's captured and figures she's his best shot at escaping his father domain.
snippet:
This time, she materialised in the shadows behind a bulding, which gave her enough cove for her to shift her facial features. Her nose a little bigger, her hair some shades brighter, her eyes more elongated and greener than the grass growing outside her doorstep and a splash of freckles to top it all off. It was way harder to do it without a mirror, and way more dangerous.
For all she knew, she could’ve been looking like a girl with a fish head, and she didn’t know if that would be better or worse than looking like herself.
Anne took out a hat and a silk scarf, she wrapped it around her neck and jumped in a group of tourists gazing at the city.
In no time she was in the square, vendor’s stands circling her, colourful flags waving in the wind.
She could’ve stayed like that for ever, stuck in the memories of her old life, but she knew it couldn’t last forever.
★ Flowers and Homicide
genre: mystery
audience: general
cw/tw: blood, dead bodies, autopsies
main character: Giada
she's a forensics student who one day stumbles (metaphorically) over a dead body in her neighbour's lawn and starts investigating.
progress: actually finished but in italian sadly so in the translation process
☆ Confessions of a timeless man
genre: short story, surrealistic
audience: teen and up
content warning: suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, depression
plot summary: a man is stuck living the same day over and over, after almost 10 years there, he tries to escape his curse by killing himself
progress: completed XD
(here's my ao3 btw)
you want to know more about me! why than you, here you go!
★ my favourite artists are Taylor Swift, Conan Gray, Arctic Monkeys, Chase Atlantic, Marina, Lana del Rey, Sabrina Carpenter, Mother Mother and Billie Eilish (theres more but i cant remember whoops)
☆ i have a veryyyy slight synesthesia
★ other than writing, art-ing and reading i love baking/cooking and crocheting
☆ theatre kid over here, always up for screaming my lungs out
★ uhhh im a vegetarian
☆ i know a scary amount about death and murder (especially poisons)
★ i dont have a specific vibe, it usually changes every few months or so
☆ i probably have anxiety but ive never been to therapy so idk 💀
★ always up for fangirling :3 (im in too many fandoms *cries* buuut im most active on pjo, marauders, grishaverse and osemanverse, musicals and some books that i have boards for on my pinterest :D)
☆ i am terribly scared of insects, needles and dogs
★ my (quite unusual) sport is aerial dance, a circus speciality that looks really cool but is acctually really painful
☆ my pinterest, spotify and goodreads if by some reason you're really interested in the chaotic human being that i am :)
thank you for reading this farrr🥹🥹
have a great day/night/life/existence/other :D
#writerblr#writerblr intro#writing community#teen writer#artblr#me#myself#and i#intro post#music#about myself#fianlly i made it#took just 100 peeps#love u guys#my heart 🥹#literally made my day#week#month#year#everything#queer#taylor swift#conan gray#fangirl#ace#a-spec#pan#lgbtqia+
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Partners
summary: college au / you and kenma get paired up for a project together and fun stuff happens
kenma x reader, ft. kuroo
part 2 part 3
a/n: first fic, kinda nervous teehee, feedback is appreciated. also this will be multiple parts sorry. also this is based on my own experience in a poli-sci class in which i wish i had a kenma lol
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Intro to political science wasn’t your least favorite class. The professor was one of the good ones who made an effort to learn everyone’s name and keep the class engaging; it wasn’t too early so as to make you debate dropping it every single morning, nor was it too late that all you thought about was the day being over for the duration of it; it wasn’t your major but you still found it interesting and engaging; and the workload was relatively light for a poli-sci class. Despite all these great elements, there was one detail that put a damper on your enjoyment of the course, you were one of four girls in a class of 30. You originally thought it wouldn’t be so bad until you quickly came to the bitter realization that the men in this class had no interest in ever letting you or any of the other girls express your thoughts or participate in discussions; at least not without talking over you, and addressing you as if you were below them. It was exhausting.
So when the professor announces a group project for which he will be picking the partners, you silently cross your fingers and hope that you’ll be paired up with one of the other girls.
“Kozume Kenma and l/n y/n”
Upon hearing the announcement you let out a defeated sigh, quickly jotted some notes about the project down and went to talk to your partner. You realized that you didn’t recognize the name so he at least wasn’t one of the guys who made it a point to continuously disrespect you, but you still weren’t sure who he was. You looked around the room and spotted who you assumed was him. he was sitting in the far back and just like you, looking around, presumably trying to spot you, until you caught his eye. he’s cute. You gave a polite smile, he did the same and nodded, a silent agreement that you would talk about your plan for the project after class. did he really have to be cute. You were already feeling apprehensive about the prospect of having a partner who would treat you like you just learned how to read, this was an added level of stress that you didn’t need.
Class was over within a few minutes. As you gathered your stuff, you mentally prepared yourself for whatever this encounter could be like. You decided to be nice and keep your hopes up, despite the low chance of him actually being someone who deserved it, you didn’t want to go into this with a defeatist attitude. Kenma was already outside the classroom waiting for you when you walked out.
“hi” “hi, i’m y/n” “Kenma”
He had a gentle smile as he greeted you and you noticed him picking at the skin of his fingers a bit. he’s nervous too. Ironically, that calmed you down a bit. it was a bit awkward at first, as you worked out the details of when you would meet to work on the project and whatnot, but nowhere near as bad as you imagined. He was polite and let you finish every time you spoke. You knew it was the bare minimum but you were so beyond relieved.
You guys decided to meet the next day after classes at an on-campus coffee shop. You were a bit shocked that he suggested Thursday, since in your school, that’s kind of designated get-shitfaced-day (most people didn’t have classes on friday). Nevertheless you weren’t bothered, you weren’t going to many parties these days and would’ve otherwise stayed home to catch up on your favorite show at the moment. Thursday rolled around and as you started getting ready, you surprised yourself at how nervous you were for this. You realized halfway into picking your outfit that you were in date mode, you’d gone through three different options in search of that perfect “cute but mot trying too hard outfit” and you spent more than half an hour on your makeup. You felt silly but, god, he was really cute. For a moment you questioned if he really was all that cute or if you were just feeling the repercussions of not having hooked up in five months. you quickly brushed any unsavory thoughts aside once you realized it was about time to be heading out. You arrived a couple minutes early and texted him letting him know you arrived before ordering a latte for yourself. you checked your appearance on your phone camera and silently gave yourself a pat on the back, because you really did look so cute. After a bit, Kenma arrived. He wore a black t-shirt that was a bit oversized and gray cargo pants, his hair was in a loose low pony. he looked good. You waved at him so he knew where you were and he walked over to where you were sitting.
“hey”, you said, smiling up at him. He gave you a light smile right back as he sat down “hi”
“so we should get started, i was thinking we could do our presentation on The Prince by Machiavelli, i think there’s a lot of comparisons we could draw to the current western world”, you say trying your hardest to sound confident.
“I like that idea, i think that’d be really smart and the professor would probably really enjoy it.”,
“oh, thank you”, you say this a little surprised, although he had already proved himself to be nice, you were still half expecting him to ignore what you said, but he actually heard you out and called your idea smart.
“why are you thanking me?”
“just, you know, for not immediately shooting me down.”
“of course”, he opens his mouth and closes it a few times, looking like he wanted to say something else, which he eventually does, “you’re the smartest person in that class, i think it’s ridiculous that those guys never let you finish talking, you’re the only one who ever says anything worth hearing.” he says all this with a neutral tone, while typing something on his laptop, as if he just said the most casual thing in the world. you stared at him for a bit, shocked that he actually noticed that, and relieved that it wasn’t just in your head. He meets your gaze but quickly looks down, looking ashamed.
“honestly, i’m… a little embarrassed for just watching, someone should stick up for you and the rest of the girls, i’ve thought about it a bit, but i kinda have a fear of public speaking.”
he looks guilty but all you can think of is kissing him right then because he just looks so cute. you realize you’re staring and snap out of it once he meets your eyes again.
“it’s okay”, you reassure him with a smile, “it sucks but, saying something might just make it worse, besides i known they’re just insecure”
After that you start working on your presentation and everything goes smoothly. you and Kenma work together like a well oiled machine. He’s easy to talk to and work with, and you really feel like you guys are on the same wavelength with this project. Although he’s quiet, he’s actually very witty when he wants to be, and just the right amount of sarcastic, which makes him even more attractive. Within an hour you guys have gotten through way more than you thought you would’ve, so you decide to take a break. You get up to go to the bathroom and accidentally knock over your bag from where it was hanging on your seat, your switch flies out and almost collides fatally with the floor, when Kenma grabs it right at the last moment. If you weren’t overtaken with relief, you’d be turned on by his quick reflexes.
“oh my god thank you so much, that would’ve been so bad.”
“don’t worry about it”, he said while eyeing your switch, “what games do you play?”
“mostly stardew valley and animal crossing, i just finished undertale though and i think i’m gonna start it over and do genocide route”
“heh, good luck with that”, he says with an amused smile
“what’s that suppose to mean?”
“i’m just saying it took me a week to beat Sans, it’s tough.”
“oh and you think i can’t do it?”, you say playfully
“i didn’t say that”, he says while laughing the most beautiful laugh you’ve ever heard, and holding his hands up in defense.
you guys stare at each other while laughing, for a second, and you almost feel like you’re having a moment, like maybe he feels the same intimacy you feel in holding his stare, until…
“KENMA!”
you’re snapped out of your trance and turn to see a tall boy with messy black hair approaching your table.
“hey man”, says the tall guy,
“kuroo, hey”, kenma says quietly, he looks slightly annoyed.
“hey, i’m kuroo”, this time the greeting is directed at you
“hi, y/n”, you respond while feeling a little sad that the moment you shared with kenma had to be so fleeting.
“gotta say, i’ve been Kenma’s best friend for years and i think this is the first time i see him laughing so much in public, let alone with a pretty girl.”, he says teasingly, you look over at kenma to see his cheeks are red and he’s looking down, avoiding your gaze, he’s clearly embarrassed.
“kuroo”, says Kenma, sternly, silently asking him to stop.
“we’re working on a project together.”, you say trying to change the subject.
kuroo looks like he might say something else that will embarrass both you and kenma further, but he doesn’t, which you’re grateful for.
“well it was nice to meet you, y/n, hope to see you around. Kenma, i’ll see you tonight.”
as you wondered what tonight was, kenma responded, “i don’t know if i’m going”
“come on dude don’t bail on us again, everyone’s gonna be there it’ll be fun.”, kuroo tries to convince him
“i’ll think about it”, upon hearing this, you see kuroo looking like he’s mulling something over, something mischievous, suddenly he turns to you
“are you busy tonight?”, your eyes go wide and you’re not really sure what to say out of fear of agreeing to something you’ll regret. with your silence, kuroo continues, “our frat is having a party tonight, a ton of people on campus are going and i personally guarantee a good time”, kuroo finishes his pitch and you mentally debate what to say, a party doesn’t sound bad, it’s been a while since you’ve gone to one and it’d be nice to hang out with people, but you look over at Kenma and his face is unreadable. You question wether he would or wouldn’t want you to go, you don’t want to make him uncomfortable. You give a vague enough answer, “i’ll try to make it”
Kuroo looks pleased at that answer, “great i’ll see you both there.”, he looks sternly at Kenma who only shoots him a dirty look. kuroo walks away and suddenly the playful atmosphere you had with kenma is replaced with an awkward, tense one. You feel bad, like you accidentally overstepped into his world
“i’m sor-“ “im sorr-“, you both spoke at the same time and laughed. “you first”, you say.
“im sorry about kuroo, he’s annoying”, you laughed and brushed off his apology,
“not at all, but im sorry.”
“what? why are you sorry?“
“about the party, i know it might be uncomfortable to have your classmate there, i don’t want to impose myself in that part of your life.”
he stares at you confused for a moment, then laughs a little
“no, no, no, that’s not an issue at all don’t even think about it. go to the party, as long as it’s what you want and not just something Kuroo pressured you into.”
you smile in disbelief at him for a bit.
“okay, then i think i will go”
“okay, then i’ll see you later”
he’s smiling too. is he happy i’m going?
“i thought you said you weren’t sure if you were going”, you say teasingly
“if you’re going then i’ll definitely be there”
You slightly widen your eyes for a moment, taken aback that he would say something so direct, his face tells you he’s taken aback by what he said too.
“you know, to show you around and stuff”, he backpedals
“i’ll see you later, kenma”, you can barely contain your smile and you want to walk away before he sees you blush. You think he has to like you at least a little bit, there’s no way you’re reading these signs so wrong.
You head to your apartment, with a bounce in your step, exited to get ready for this party.
#haikyuu!!#kenma fluff#hq kenma#kenma#kozume kenma#kenma x you#kozume kenma x reader#kenma x reader#college au#haikyu x reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu au#kenma imagine#hq#hq kuroo
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the ducks!! can we please hear more about jim and their duck collection?
(yes, yes you can!)
"And for you, Jim," Dolly set a little box into their hands.
Holiday gifts at the Boodharis were pleasantly simple. All three kids put money toward one big gift for Dolly (a new stand mixer this year which she'd been thrilled about, especially the cheery orange color) and Dolly would give out small thoughtful ones in return. The two grandchildren would get a few things, but there was a price limit. ("There's only so much room in the apartment!" Zuri would remind everyone each year.)
Oluwande had gotten a subscription to Make magazine which made his birthday gift easy this year. Jim already mentally bookmarked an intro to welding kit he'd like. Zuri had put in her new earrings right away and Ada was showing the kids how the bee-themed tea steeper would work.
In short, no one was looking at Jim and they got to open the box observed only by Dolly.
"Thank you," they said as they peeled off the tape.
"I found them when I was hunting around a mineral table for Oluwande," Dolly told them.
From tissue paper, Jim pulled a carved bit of amethyst just a little bigger than their thumb nail. The purple duck caught the light. Then two others even smaller in pink quartz. The little family setteled into Jim's palm.
"Oh," Jim lifted them to their eyes. "They're really detailed."
"Amazing what people can do, isn't it?"
"Thanks," they said again with more feeling. "They're great."
Stuffed full of food, ducks tucked carefully in their pocket and the lingering smell of baby powder and rosewater hugs on their clothes, Jim and Oluwande got on the subway. Oluwande was holding his magazine and bag full of leftovers.
"What'd Mom get you?" He asked.
"I'll show you when we get home. You like the magazine?"
"It's great," he nodded. "Wonder how she even found out about it? I'm going to give them to Pete after I'm done reading them, he'll love all the LED circuitry stuff. I know he wants to make that dress of Frenchie's programmable for light effects."
"Wonder if we could do something for the chainsaw."
"Roach would fucking love that. Good idea."
The apartment was well-warmed when they got in, taking the chill of the afternoon off them easily. After Oluwande slotted the leftovers into the fridge, Jim took the ducks out of their pocket and approached the little shelves.
They were only half full. Jim was picky about what they added and despite Ada's dire warnings, there hadn't yet been a gifting cascade. The salt and pepper shakers, along with the sugar bowl, sat on the kitchen table, too useful to get relegated to display.
Some of their favorites were on the top shelf, the most visible. There was the duck sitting on a comically large egg with a gobsmacked expression, the obsidian one with it's wings outstretched, one painted like a traditional china pattern with it's beak dipped in gold and one duckling carrying an umbrella.
There were only ten or eleven others, but Jim spent a few minutes carefully rearranging and then setting down the new acquisitions next to the obsideon one. They looked like they belonged together.
"Oh cool," Oluwande put a hand to their back, so he could lean in and look. "You like 'em?"
"Yes," Jim tapped the amethyst one gently. "Never seen one like it."
"Yeah, it's good when they're all unique."
"I got you something," they announced.
"Oh, I mean, you already got me the new shoes, I thought that was my gift."
"Those were for Teal. This is for you."
"You know I am Teal, right?" Oluwande laughed. "You don't have to do both of us."
"I wanted to."
They slipped out of his reach and went into the bedroom. They didn't really have to hide gifts from Oluwande, he was a weirdo who didn't go looking for them. They knew he'd taken to keeping their gifts at other people's houses which was annoyingly smart.
This was just an envelope anyway. They handed it to him without ceremony.
"Gift card?" he teased, opening it. They waited as he teased out the contents. "....Jim."
"Yeah?"
"How?"
"We can afford it," Jim shrugged. "I did the math, set aside tips for a bit.
"Longer than a bit."
"You said you wanted to go."
"I did. I do! This is awesome, really. How long?"
"A week. I already told Stede we were going, he's cool with it."
"Singapore...holy shit, we'll need hotels."
"Done."
"Done?" He blinked at them, then dug into the envelope and pulled out the itinerary that they'd carefully put together.
"You plan all our trips. I figured it was my turn."
"Day trips! This is massive. Holy shit!" He put the paper down and then drew them into a hug. They hugged him back smiling over hsi shoulder. "This is so cool! I haven't left the country in...forever and that wasn't far. This is going to be a real adventure."
"It's all real." They kissed his neck. "But yeah, it'll be a big one."
They were ready for that again. Oluwande made them want to take on the world.
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Intro!!
Hi everybody! I’m Kafka (he/him). This is my sideblog for fic recs. I read a lot of smut, I write a lot of smut, and I wanna share it with you! As you might have already guessed, I’m gonna be recommending a lot of explicit fics, so I kindly ask minors to not interact, sorry!
What I like to read:
Fandoms: Bungou Stray Dogs, My Hero Academia, Sk8 the Infinity, and a little Death Note
I only read m/m ships!
I typically only read one-shots but from time to time I’ll indulge in a longer fic
Fluff, smut, comedy - but I have a low tolerance for angst
I tend to write things that fit into those categories as well
For those of you who are interested, this is a link to my profile on ao3 with works I’ve written. But for the most part, this page is just gonna be about recommending other people’s fics.
Considering opening asks for your recommendations for me but I tend to be picky so there’s a chance I won’t read what you send (I apologize in advance if that’s the case).
I’ll start by populating the page with some of the fics I’ve already bookmarked and eventually start adding my reviews on things as I read them. Feel free to search my page by fandom, ship, or things like that. I’ll try to tag my posts as thoroughly as possible.
I will also tag the authors of the fics i recommend if they have a Tumblr linked to their ao3. If you are an author I tagged and you don’t want to be tagged: pls let me know and I’ll untag you!
And that’s it! Hopefully you find some good stuff to read from here!
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I've just started watching the rerun and I think I'm gonna cry??? The brainrot is real. Gonna just liveblog in this post so I can reread my train of thought later. So, for your entertainment: my rundown of the KPWT
(edit: added skit titles for clarity)
That intro is just... ✨cinematic masterpiece✨
But can you image how it must have felt for them? Standing there in their swag outfits just waiting for the screens to rise while that thriller music is making your heart race and you hear a whole arena screaming?
They all look so fucking proud of eachother during the introductions 😍
Them welcoming us in different languages is also verrrrry... 🥵
I know live translating/subtitling is a noble art but was there no way to prepare the scripted parts in advance?
(TayTimeTem skit)
Love this first song, had it in my spotify playlist since watching the live stream 😂 I'm also getting really good at singing in phonetic Thai
Having not read the original novel, I was never really into the TayTimeTem-thing, but omg this show makes me wish we had 20 eps so they could have explored that storyline thoroughly as well. Especially Us would have given us everything
(Jeff solo)
I can't begin to explain the way "Why don't you stay" pulls on my heartstrings. For me, it's up there in my top 5 of most beautiful songs ever (with Harry Styles' Sign of the Times & Pink Floyd's Wish you were here, for example). It breaks my heart to hear how Jeff's still a little hoarse after his covid infection 😭 there were definitely some flat notes there that wouldn't have been there otherwise
(Slot Machine performance)
Wish I could see a live performance of Slot Machine one day, looks like they're amazing live. I've been listening to them on Spotify and I really love their music!
Pretty sure that Mile's more showing off and having a good time than actually playing and I love that for him. He's so fucking precious.
Jeff. Look at you. Jeff. Gorgeous rockstar. You were born to stand on such big stages. Jeff. Please conquer the world. I wanna see you live one day. Love you Jeff
My mouth fell open the first time I heard him hit those notes in Lost Stars - he's a fucking talent and I'm sure he can be the next big thing in rock. It's quite hard to explain to people in the real world how much I love him 🤣
(VegasPete skit)
Bible YES. Do it to me. Props to the music and choreography team. And the scene setting 👌 also A+ on the BibleBuild acting.
(Nodt solo)
OMG the Big sequence 😭😭 I don't know who came up with it but Nodt is killing it. You can almost touch the pain on his face. I also love it how the crowd goes wild when he confirms Big was in love with Kinn.
(Us & Build duo)
Having just been to Tomorrowland, that amount of EDM and laserlights is really triggering 🤣 But omg their dancing looks so much fun
(Anita & Barcode stuff)
YES MOM. Having Anita dance to Doja Cat makes no sense at all (not for her character nor for her amount of screentime) but I'm so here for it. Might be the pansexual in me speaking.
And BAM suddenly we understand why everybody's always hyping up Barcode. That kid is gonna be BIG. He's a totally different person when he's on stage doing his thing - hard to imagine the cute and shy kid he is rest of the time.
Love how Anita/Namphueng is like 'let me put a coat over you' while he's already wearing like, 5 layers
'My older son is handsome, my younger son is sweet' - 'isn't my mom handsome?' WE WERE ROBBED
I know it's controversial but I love that little grain of KimChay closure they've given us. I liked how they ended in the series: Kim realising that he has a lot of groveling to do and Chay taking agency - but not ending together, giving Chay space and time. He's 19 - I like to imagine he takes a few years to grow up and learn to be himself before they collide again, and take it from there.
(Jeff solo WDYS english version)
THERE IT IS. I was waiting (after having watched the clips on youtube for daaaaays). This is devastatingly beautiful for me (again, for reason I can't explain myself). It's not even the fact that it's in English - by now I've become so used to the Thai version that the sounds are wrong. But omg the scenery and setting. The piano, the build-up, the choir and Jeff just releasing it. I honestly don't know why this man isn't world wide famous yet (yes I will die on this hill). It will take a long time before I'm over this.
(KinnPorsche beach skit)
Honestly the beach bar part is one I liked less. Even if we have KinnPorsche being adorable and MileApo going 60% tiddies again. Mile has an amazing and soothing voice tho. And his fingers while playing guitar are 🥵
At first I thought the places on the those wooden signs might be clues to future stops of the world tour, but 'Iceland' is on them and although that would be awesome, I don't see it happening anytime soon 😅
(Minor family skit)
It will never not be funny to me how they give us a Minor family montage with the melancholic music and sad Vegas moments and then have Bible flying over the stage half naked to Imagine Dragons' Believer.
And that's not even mentioning what comes next.
Ta entering on skateboard is such a Macau thing. But I have conflicting feelings about the outfit - but only because I thought Macau was like 15 and that makes my tingly feelings very inappropriate.
Ex is the finest daddy to ever daddy (or more like, ultimate zaddy). Do you think this is just a regular friday night in the Minor family household?
Just, what was the train of thought behind this act? What was the process? Who came up with the idea "the minor family is hot, let's put them in leather and harnesses". I have questions.
Ex has a very peculiar accent, lots of rolling r's.
(Sailor Moon skit)
Oooh this is the part I missed during the livestream! I know what's coming tho and I have even more questions.
But Perth is clearly living his best life so good for him.
I should have watched Sailor Moon as a kid.
So much respect for them doing that skit in high heels. And omg their legs? How are they so elegant??
Tong, you absolute king. MVP.
The state of Perth's wig is atrocious.
(Justice Bao skit - had to look that up)
Next part. I love how Apo is hanging there literally going 'This was all Mile's idea and I'm just going along for the right because I (platonically) love that bastard'.
(Bodyguard/Magic Mike skit)
Wait you're telling me there was a poledance and it wasn't Bible doing it?
As someone who often comes into contact with high-end events & awardshows in their professional life, I'm really impressed with the production value of this show 😳
That bodyguard/Magic Mike part. How did the people on the front row SURVIVE???? 🥵🥵🥵
I've been using the 🥵 emoji a lot.
(Pond intermezzo)
Oh those clips 😊 little babies <3
I want that t-shirt. What was the deal with the merch again? When is it open for international orders?
(Cast speeches)
Hello I'm in love with Perth's Australian accent. Hello Perth baby sending love from Belgium!
Even though I only understand half of what they're saying (due to the slow subtitles), I'm so fucking touched by all of them. Love how they're all getting emotional the longer it takes. I'm really enthralled by these sixteen (16) men. How they clearly like and love eachother and lean on eachother. How they all express their gratitude to everyone and especially P'Pond. I love that man so much for what he did for them. And us ofcourse!
STOP IT BUILD I'M GONNA CRY WITH YOU
Apo's speech I'm - 😪 And omg Bible?? Who ever made these babies feel bad? Imma smack a bitch.
I feel like the translator just gave up halfway Mile's speech. Fair enough 😂 he's giving off real "I do what I waunt" vibes, mr. one-of-the-CEOs-of-BOC. But oh the 'family' part 😭
(Cumulus)
Aaah the long awaited Cumulus. They're really good musicians and what they're lacking in the vocal department, they're more than making up in fun.
Thai pop/rock music has some absolute bangers. These are alle going in my spotifiy playlist.
Yeah I'm gonna need about 200 high quality photo's of Jeff and Barcode singing together with the latters foot on Jeff's knee.
I hope they're saying sorry to those background singers for being such a bundle of chaos
(Finale)
THAT TRAILER I don't know what to say guys, this movie can actually only disappoint after the expectations that trailer raised.
I want to go clubbing with these guys so bad. Or even better, go to Tomorrowland (biggest and best EDM festival in the world) with them. I'll secure a spot on the bill for Ta, he's doing better than 50% of the dj's I've heard there.
Their dancing is... sorry sweating and dirty thoughts only
How is this WHOLE cast so exceptionally beautiful?
However much I love this and however much fun they seem to be having, they also look dead on their feet. But who wouldn't be after this marathon of a show?
Ooooh the famed Macarana remix! This is actually... really good? I want this in clubs this summer! (not that this mom of two is doing a lot of clubbing nowadays)
Wow Ta is actually a really good dj
(the end)
Bye boys, love you. So happy I got to see this show in full and with complete concentration. Thank you for giving it your all!
I don't think this full show is going to be the one that's going on tour, it'll probably a much smaller version. I'm very curious about what it's gonna be tho and if it's coming to Europe (to an easily accessible city), I'll sure as hell go see it!
The show's over and I have 6 minutes to spare so that's me rewinding tot 01:58:00 for Jeff's WDYS on piano kthxbye
#kinnporsche#kinnporsche the series#kinnporsche the series laforte#kinnporsche world tour#kinnporsche the series world tour#kpwt#kpwt rerun#mile phakphum#apo nattawin#jeff satur#barcode tinnasit#be on cloud#slot machine#bible sumettikul#build jakapan#why don't you stay
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It’s been a few days of queer Australian stand-up comedy for me, because sometimes I just like to look up queer Australian stand-up. (…Okay, it’s because Daniel Kitson recommended both these people in his mailing list email – I mean, it’s not just because of that, they were both on my list of people to watch at some point, his recommendation email just hastened the process of actually getting to them, I don’t need a straight guy to tell me what queer comedians to like or anything…)
Laura Davis – Live at Easy Street Concert Hall (2016) and Cake in the Rain (2017)
I’m grouping these together because they’re pretty similar, there’s enough crossover in material so you probably don’t need to get both, though I did and enjoyed them both, it’s not like they’re all that long. And they’re not exactly the same – the Easy Street Concert one opens with a routine talking shit about pub trivia, which wasn’t in the other one and is worth getting for that alone, because I find it so weird that so many people just accept pub trivia as a normal, reasonable thing to want to do. For the exact reasons Laura states – why do you want to do homework while trying to socialize at a bar? (I mean, that’s the reason I give for why I hate trivia nights, it’s also the reason Laura Davis gives, my best friend once told me I hate trivia nights because all my knowledge is too niche to be useful in it, and to be fair he may have a point).
Anyway. The Easy Street Concert recording is available on NextUp on demand, so if you have an account you can watch it there for no additional money. You can also buy the audio on their website. The link is also supposed to let you buy the Cake in the Rain album, though I found the Cake in the Rain button didn’t work, so I bought it on Bandcamp instead (use Bandcamp, everyone, best way to support the artists, possibly aside from buying straight off their own websites, I guess).
I enjoyed both of these. A lot of observational stuff, some feminism stuff, a really memorable and funny routine about the mundane horror of high school girls’ sex ed delivered by a religious group. Immediately gives you an idea of who Laura Davis is, and I immediately like them. It’s a relatively short show, but it’s also available for a cheap price (and free if you’ve already paid for a NextUp membership), which is worth it.
Laura Davis – The Bus Show (show from 2019, recorded audio in 2020)
The previous ones were good, but I thought this one was a big step up, will really get someone attached to this comedian. It’s their 2019 comedy show, recorded during lockdown in 2020, with an intro and an outro and some other lockdown-era commentary added on. Also there’s some background music and sound effects (described in the blurb as a “soundscape”), making it a proper audio production.
My general taste in comedy is: I like good political material. I like good deep personal material (“deep” doesn’t even have to mean about a particularly harrowing or dramatic topic, though it certainly can mean that, I just like people who talk about any aspect of their personal life in a way that’s thoughtful and insightful). I’ll enjoy a show with one or the other of those things. I’ll really enjoy a show with both of them, if done well. And I’ll enjoy it even more if you tie them together.
Laura Davis did all that and more here (the “and more” was mostly, I guess, be funny – also a fairly crucial element to good comedy, and they did do that). Such a simple structure but it holds the show together so well, making the whole thing about a journey on the bus. It reminded me of Sandi Toksvig’s book, which also took through a bus ride across London, and used each stop as a way to discuss her next topic. Laura Davis uses the same premise (for the record, they both came out in the same year, so Laura Davis could not have read/copied that when writing this show), taking each little thing that occurs on the journey in some new direction, and then bringing it back to the bus. I thought it was very effective for making the whole thing feel polished.
And I liked all the digressions. They weave in small things and big things, whimsical things and very real things, Facebook group drama and climate protesters and fear and love. Personal and political, tied together by common themes and this one bus ride and by the fact that they affect each other. And I thought the audio commentary added to it too, Laura Davis coming back from a short time later but a different world to explain how her thoughts on the material have updated in that time.
The whole thing is so captivating, I sat back and closed my eyes and listened to it while not doing anything else, just got lost in it. Doing that made it feel like a good book, I felt like I was on that bus reading Facebook comments and looking around at other travelers, just like a book can do. They’re a wonderful performer. I really recommend this show.
Geraldine Hickey – Smithereens (2018) and What a Surprise (2022)
A comedian I’ve been meaning to get into for a while… and I’d love to say, “So see, she was already on my list, it’s not just because Daniel Kitson recommended her this month, I don’t need a straight guy to tell me where the funny queer women are.” But actually, she’s been on my list since a few months ago, when I heard an episode of an Australian radio show in which Daniel Kitson talked about how great Geraldine Hickey was. Anyway, it’s fine. Doesn’t matter how I found her, I’m glad I did. According to the two things I could dig up by her, both stand-up specials that she recorded for Australian TV.
I liked both of these. Fairly conventional stand-up, especially compared to Laura Davis, but that’s not a bad thing when it’s done well. Also, given that her 2018 show had material about how Australia was still debating same-sex marriage at the time, there’s an argument that a butch woman doing shows about her gay relationship can’t really be conventional. I mean, it wouldn’t be good if “I’m a butch lesbian” were all someone had, a good USP with no talent to back it up is just a wasted opportunity. But in this case, there was talent. And the perspective from which the talented stand-up was being delivered is still enough of a minority perspective so I have trouble calling it entirely “conventional”. Obviously there are a lot of queer people in stand-up. But not a huge amount of butch lesbians over forty who tell stories about their happy lesbian long-term relationship-turned-marriage to give people hope that sometimes that eventually works out (though if you’d like a second butch lesbian telling the love story of their gay wedding, check out Hannah Gadsby’s newest show, Something Special, it’s great).
These two shows are fairly similar to each other, in that they’re just a person telling funny stories from her own life, but some of the stories are really funny. Her writing and delivery are both consistently strong. The second of those shows – What a Surprise – is probably the stronger one overall just because it has a theme and a narrative that the first one doesn’t (theme: the way people surprise each other in relationships; narrative: story of her engagement to her girlfriend), and I love a good theme and narrative. But actually, there were some absolutely hilarious stories in the first show, it might be a total of stronger material. I loved the story at the end, about MCing a gig in American with no preparation.
It's objectively funny material, as much as comedy possibly can be objective, I realize is not much. But I did also really connect to her persona, and it’s not even just the gender non-conforming gay woman thing (though… it is partly that). There was nothing incredibly deep in any of it, I’m not saying, like, this resonated on some deep dramatic emotional level. I’m just saying, I really related to her descriptions of the way she just wants to spend a vacation reading a book and then falling asleep, instead of spending it gardening. And her description of immediately imagining every option when told there will be a surprise until she ruins the whole thing for herself. And her description of herself getting lost in the confusion at an American gig but trying to pretend to know what’s going on. You know, the thing that traditional stand-up is supposed to be, but of isn’t to me. Relatable.
This was time well spent. People should look these comedians up if you think Hannah Gadsby is good proof of concept for Australian queer comedians being a solid idea, but what else is out there?
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Hiii here have an update :]
Things are decent, not much going on lately. Still making it to the gym about 3 times a week for lifting, but just recently starting to try to get more cardio and steps haha. Lifting is awesome but I would also like to be losing some fat here and there too lol, can’t forget about that. I at least just want to get enough steps a day but I know cardio is good for your heart and lungs and whatever (grumble grumble) so I want to get some times of higher heart rate once or twice a week to start with.
A couple days ago I also started a bullet journal. I’ve always liked these but never thought I could do one since they always look like works of art and I’m not artistic, don’t have pretty writing, etc. I didn’t want to try it and mess it up or end up not using it because I hated my artwork. But I recently saw a tumblr post about how making bujos like that is great for people who can/like to do that, but originally bujos were made by a guy (Ryder Carroll) who wanted it to be super simple and straightforward. In his Youtube intro video his handwriting is even messy enough that I almost can’t read it at times lol. But I guess a lot of people are like me and get overwhelmed at how we normally see bujos and so we avoid them, but he actually invented the method specifically as a neurodivergent-accessible way to stay organized, apparently in particular for people with ADHD. So that made me feel way better about starting my own. I did watch some other videos of people’s minimalistic spreads which I took from that added to Carroll’s original method, like a habit tracker and a gratitude page, etc. But otherwise it’s really straightforward and all I use is just a graph notebook (I like graph paper over dots hehe), a black pen, and a ruler (not even necessary technically) and that’s it!
This is good for a lot of reasons but I especially want to use it to help me with what I think is going to be a New Year’s resolution - get out of debt! Or at least close to out of it - not sure if I could completely get out if it in just a year. My financial situation is horrendous and embarrassing. Since I started my bujo in December, this month’s financial goals included just not using my credit card anymore, and starting in 2023 I want to plan specifics for paying off my cards and saving a little. With Christmas shopping this month, I couldn’t really start with that stuff yet (even though I’m keeping the shopping minimal this year).
I’d also like to start incorporating a way to meal plan/meal prep with it, but I’ll do that down the line a bit. One thing at a time.
Otherwise things are pretty chill. Concerts petered out after October - had just one at the end of November and we have NONE scheduled for the next THREE MONTHS. This is crazy for us lol. I bet at least one will come up before then though. It’s funny though cuz if not, the last concert I went to was AFI, and the next concert I go to will also be AFI haha. The one that just happened was a regular album tour show; the one that will be in March is a special one-off concert where they will be playing an entire album through “for the first and last time” (Sing the Sorrow, since it’ll be its 20th anniversary). We have to travel down to SoCal for that one too. So unbelievable we even got tickets, I’m so stoked. It’s going to be a special night with the most diehard fans.
Anyway, December is surprisingly an almost plan-less month. Just Christmas and New Years obviously, and we’re having a late combo friendsgiving/secret Santa dinner party at the end of the month too. Enjoying the lull in things before the schedule gets packed again in spring - besides that concert in March, there are already plans coming up around then and onward. I love doing stuff and I also love staying home, so I got a good balance right now lol.
#mine#personal fitblr#fitblr#fitfam#fitlife#fitspo#fitness#health#healthy#healthblr#exercise#workout#weight loss#healthy weight loss#losing weight#nutrition#healthy diet#healthy lifestyle#girls who lift#strong not skinny#weightlifting#strength training#lifting#progressive overload#gym#gym rat#gymlife#bullet journal#bujo#afi
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some random power info stuff and naijapunk scenerio/fanfic idea I randomly came up with
(A/N: All mentions of HB/Hobie refer to Nifemi’s variant of Hobie on her earth, Earth 1960, not ASTV Hobie. This still counts as an oc x canon to an extent, so if you don’t like, don't read)
Alright here we go,
In addition to the basic spiderpowers like wall crawling, webs and spidersense, Nifemi also has this bioluminesence thing that happens when she feels strong emotions. Like her freckles kind of glow and she has this aura thing.
So basically she’s like a human LED light or nightligt of some sort
(On as side note, GUYS DID YOU KNOW SPIDERS ACTUALLY HAVE BIOLUMINESCENE< IT’S SO FREAKING COOL)
The glowing kind of brightens and dims depending on the severity of the emotion
The colors also vary depending on the emotion:
Yellow- Happy
Blue- Sad
Red- Angry/ Annoyed
Pink- Love/Flustered
Whitish- Neutral
This power doesn’t per say, have a specific use in combat, except maybe throwing off suspicions about her identity to a certain extent, ‘cause everyone knows Anansi as a glowy superhero so who’s going to even suspect that drab Nifemi is the same person (see, I’m a genius)
But in reality I added it mostly to have the most effect on her civilian life.
As I said earlier in her intro, Nifemi already has problems opening up to people, whether it be in friendships or any sort of relationships. But just because she can’t physically open up to people doesn’t mean that her body can’t give her away in certain aspects.
When she developed this particular power, Bolatito being the queen and tech whiz that she is made her this Light Control Bracelet thing (Imma call it LCB for short), that put a sort of dampner on this power.
It looks like a metal cuff bracelet and it just goes with the rest of her other bangles and stuff, 'cause she already wears a good amount of those to hide her spinnerets [organic webbing and such]
(I'll draw a pic later)
She wears it in public so she doesn’t turn into a human nightlight at every slight provocation and like expose her secret identity and what not.
Downside to the bracelet is that Nifemi can only wear it in like 5 hour spans and needs alike a 15-20 minute break in between so she doesn’t “burn up” per say. Basically like a cooling down process.
She wears it mostly at uni, at hangouts and anywhere in public
She doesn’t wear it while she’s out as Anansi or when she’s alone in apartment, or only with Bolatio, ‘cause, only wears it when it’s necessary.
In addition to this power turning her into a lightbulb, the aura she gives of also literally “burns” her calories, so this girl has a CrAzy metabolism
(Fun Fact: This is based of my own crazy metabolism)
So she’s basically a slightly less intense version of Barry Allen.
And as a result:
Ms Girl. Cannot. Get. Drunk.
Earning her the role of designated caretaker at all bar and club related hangouts
Meanwhile Bolatito (16) and Hobie (18) are drinking buddies
Constantly going out and dragging Nifemi (18) and Miles (17) along most times, mostly Nifemi though, ‘cause Miles some how finds a way get out of such matters and also, to me, he just doesn’t seem like the bar-type hangout person.
Nifemi on the other hand, literally has no choice.
If Bolatito is like “Get up we’re going out” Nifemi is like, “Ughh, fine”
Plus, if Hobie is going to be there, who is this love-struck idiot to refuse such and opportunity.
Anyways,
Bolatito gets loud and stupid when she’s drunk
Screaming, babbling mess. Flirting with Miles at every moment (even more so than usual). Laughing one second then crying the next. Bi-polar little thing [mid weight]
HB however get’s like mellow and quiet when he’s drunk [heavy weight]
Quiet groaning, not saying much, slurring his words, clingy mess.
Also no mental filter on this man when he’s this state
Like, he’s saying the first thing that comes to mind, no thinking
So,
This man will flirt with Nifemi when he’s drunk making her so flustered
BUT HE WON’T REMEMEBER WHAT HE DID WHEN HE’S SOBER!!!
Okay, back to Nifemi’s power and it’s “effects”
Before Hobie found out that Nifemi was Anansi, she always wore the LCB around him, even on one on one hangouts
B/c if she didn’t she’ll turn into a glowing pink lightbulb everytime this man talked because as I mentioned in my ‘Timeline of Love 1960’ post, his voice.
However,
There was one time that she didn’t wear the bracelet
(Luckily HB didn’t remember the full incident but-)
Basically:
- This was before she and HB officially got together
- They were both in that awkward friend phase, with Nifemi being to emotionally constipated to confess and HB liking her and unknowingly making this girl flustered
- While Techflower (Bolatito and Miles) is on the sidelines, eating popcorn and watching this trainwreck
- So Nifemi, Hobie, and Bolatio had gone to this Nigerian pub/club thing to just, hang out
- More accurately, Nifemi had been dragged out by the other two to go socialize in society
- At the club, HB and Bolatio being the buds that they are of course get stupid drunk
- While Nifemi, b/c of her light power thing, cannot get even mildly intoxicated (poor baby)
- So before HB and Bolatito do something that they would regret for the rest of their lives, she decides to be a good friend/sister and get them back home safely
- She also has to get home ‘cause before this she had been wearing the LCB already so she was like 45 minutes away from 'burn up time’
- She also makes the decision that it’ll be smarter to take both of them back to her apartment instead of dropping HB back at his place, so it’ll be easier to keep an eye on them and deal with their hangovers in the morning
(A…tiny mistake on her part)
- So she bundles up the two mess, pays the bill and gets them out of there
She has that spider strength, so it’s like no problem wrangling them back to her place
- By the time they get back to her apartment, Nifemi has like 15 minutes left on her bracelet timer, so she removes it, keeps it on its special dish next to her uni ID and decides to take care of the two idiots (lovingly)
- She carries Bolatito, who is passed out, to her room, tucks her in and then goes back for Hobie
- HB at first glance also seems knocked out cold, so Nifemi’s like,
‘Alright, this’ll be easy’
- And just picks him up as well
- Keep in mind that Nifemi’s like 5’6, 5’7, no noticeable muscle, probably would get winded climbing up the stairs if not for her powers
- And Hobie’s like a 6’3 lanky but at the same time heavy man
- So I guess he’s not like used to the feeling of being carried, so the movement kind of like jostles him awake
“You’re pretty strong luv”
- AARGHH, his accent, one of my baby’s only weaknesses
- So in Nifemi her classic Nifemi fashion, is like:
“Oh really, um-okay, I-I uh d-didn’t notice, that’s uh something-”
- stammering, pathetic mess (oh I love her so much)
- HB just snickers at her response, closes his eyes again and presses himself closer into her, mummering slightly:
“You’re cute when ya all flustered”
Nifemi.exe is shutting down
- Nifemi is done. Finished. Over with. KO-ed
- This man don knock this girl speechless
- And her body gives her away by, you guessed it, glowing
- She was now cosplaying a glowing pink nightlight on it’s highest setting
- She, of course, panics
- Drops HB, who is once again passed out, in the guestroom and hightails it out of there
- Timeskip to the next day, HB can’t remember anything that happened in the midst of his hangover
- Except
- Some glowing pink light that his brain subconsciously links to Nifemi
- And he now has the urge to call Nifemi ‘nightlight’, which he does consistently
“Hey nightlight”
“Wha..”
And that concludes the end of my delusions, if you're still here thanks for reading.
Here’s my favourite pretty picture of Hobie:
#just had a random idea of them a while ago#felt like posting it#their ship name is naijapunk#Nifemi is a living nightlight and Hobie unknowingly uses it against her#lalatalks#Nifemi#Hobie#hobie x oc#oc x canon#naijapunk#spidersona#drabbles#fluff#this is so cringe actually dying#ocs#variant hobie
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I posted 13,581 times in 2022
That's 2,001 more posts than 2021!
14 posts created (0%)
13,567 posts reblogged (100%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@holsten-from-hasa
@abyssopelagiccs
@theminecraftbee
@binomist
@bdoubleowo
I tagged 1,456 of my posts in 2022
#grian - 218 posts
#fave - 207 posts
#gtwscar - 113 posts
#etho - 101 posts
#save - 96 posts
#bdubs - 96 posts
#hermitcraft - 85 posts
#import.txt - 77 posts
#mumbo - 67 posts
#empires - 63 posts
Longest Tag: 140 characters
#also if skizz was in dlsmp and he didn't get impulse as his soulmate im sorry but that'll be a crime. they share hearts all the time already
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Hi! List five things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox of the last ten people who reblogged something from you! Spread the happiness and positivity
(creature... That's a funky creature in your icon)
hi! :D
(yeeee the baba is such a creature . an Animal. i love them so much)
things that make me happy hmmm ,, reading (particularly fanfics tbh fjdjdh), my frens (looking @ the dynamos and chaos server here love you guys <3), i really love warm blankets, hot chocolate, and having little quiet moments to myself where i can just relax and breathe . is nice :3
2 notes - Posted May 24, 2022
#4
our dog oscar had a minor surgery this morning , luckily now he is home safe and well, if very sleepy. he has to wear the Cone of Shame But Soft tm and can’t walk around much but he’s been napping since i got home anyways <3
2 notes - Posted April 5, 2022
#3
heyo finally gonna make a pinned. after over 20k posts . yay?
we're the aviary (system), collectively we go by plural they/them
on our blog you’ll find mostly mcyt content - hermitcraft and third/last life mostly - plus anything else we think is worth reblogging, ie shitposts
asks and dms are always open we'll do our best to reply
we try not to engage in discourse, please don’t come to us with the intention of harassment, either aimed at us or any other group
adding onto the above we post and reblog shipping content . we'll tag it if asked to however if you're heavily against that this probably isn't the place for you
we love seeing like / rb spam!!! feel free to do it to your content it makes us very happy to see
don’t have a specific dni / byf or whatever just don’t be creepy ok? ok cool. aviary out
(some more misc info below cut)
alter info (just the ones you'll see around most often):
canary, host, they/them or ae/aer - main one running this blog, mostly it's me you'll see doing stuff
grian, c!grian fictive, he/him or xe/xem - i think the c things are weird im just grian but not in mc anymore
there are more of us but they can make their own intros if and when they want
tagging system is as follows:
[name]talks - we say random shit
[name]answers - answering stuff people throw at our inbox
[name]draws - art tag
[name] refers to the person responsible for the post
3 notes - Posted May 2, 2022
#2
baba
babababababbabababbaabbababababababababab
3 notes - Posted April 15, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
discovering that there is no fandom for the wildings + the hundred names of darkness on tumblr is making me sad . pleas eplease please why do my favourite cat books not get enough appreciation ): they’re better than waca i prommy
if anyone has read them and wants to talk hmu
4 notes - Posted April 13, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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⌠ LUKA SABBAT, 22, MALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, AREN 'ARI' AUGUSTE ! according to their records, they’re a SECOND year, specializing in DRIVER'S ED and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (oversized knitted sweaters & flannels, chipped nails too short from biting them too much, colorful themed bandaids even when he doesn't need them). when it’s the (taurus)’s birthday on 4/30/1998, they always request their SHAMROCK SHAKE from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.
pinboard xxx
@gallagherintro
about
he’s from georgia, the land of peaches, and yes. they’re his favorite fruit.
ari’s life was kind of a normal one. he had an older brother who was his best friend, a mother who loved him and a father who spoiled them every single day.
(tw death, gun violence) on ari’s twelfth birthday, his parents took him to the zoo, his favorite place on earth, and he remembers that day as both the best and the worst of his life. on their way back home, their car and a few others got caught in between gangs’ trouble, and with a round of bullets, everyone in ari’s car was killed except for him, thanks to his brother who used his body to cover him, thus saving him from harm. he was found by the police still underneath his brother’s lifeless body and immediately put in the foster system.
a part of ari’s brain simply blocked what happened. he knew the facts, and as trauma specialists treated him upon his arrival to the station, they realized that ari’s way to assimilate what had happened was seemingly too mature. they waited because they knew there was a lion inside him, ready to pounce and duel, but he never did. instead, ari retreated, became a shy, yet charming young man, with pretty distinctive interests. he threw himself fully into art, music, and books, everything that could keep him busy.
he never had his heart set on being actually adopted. he knew he was too old for that, and he didn’t stand a chance against other younger, cuter, less traumatized kids, but he was never actually bitter about that. instead, he enjoyed the change from foster family to foster family, and even came to love his foster siblings hard and fast, like he would with blood relatives.
despite it all, ari seemed to be a happy guy. he never skipped a therapy session, and even though school wasn’t his strongest skill, he went by, and soon enough, he turned eighteen, thus freeing himself from the system. but he had nothing.
it became apparent then that survival was ari’s strength. he was witty enough to get money (in mainly legal ways, although there were a few stolen pennys and twenties, maybe a wallet or two out of drunks in the streets). he played music in the streets, sold his art on special markets, he got by. it was when he got tired of georgia and wanted to try a bigger city like new york, that he committed his first big crime, his first big mistake, and yet his biggest blessing.
ari stole a car. it was a relatively easy task for him, which surprised him at first, and then simply just drove away. the adrenaline of the moment settling in his stomach, turning into pride as he got further from his hometown. two days later, there was a police alert on him and the car he was driving, so he stopped in the next station and got on a different model and drove away, until he crossed the entire country all the way to LA. this was the greatest adventure of his life, and even though he knew the cops were on his heels, he didn’t stop. if he was going to go down, he would go down fighting, the adrenaline in his body spoke.
it was a few weeks later when he was finally chased down somewhere in LA. some neighbor had said something and it seemed to be all over for him, but he did what he knew best and took said neighbor’s car and attempted to drive away, if only for one more taste at the adrenaline. it was all over the news, the chase that lasted hours. he managed to dodge the police in ways nobody had ever seen before. it was better than any movie, and the sense of pride he felt as he listened to the narration of his own chase on the radio as he sped up through the highway was something he never felt before. the high he chased all his life. but it could only last so long before he fucked up the brakes of the car and ended up crashing against a dumpster in the middle of nowhere. he lost consciousness in the car, and next thing he knew, he was in jail.
his life was over, it seemed. it had been a good run, but he hadn’t been smart enough. he couldn’t afford a lawyer, he was guilty of charges. there was no way out. except one day a strange man showed up, someone he never saw before, but knew too much about his life, his reasons and his need to be free, and exchanged his freedom, for his admission and loyalty to gallagher.
miscelaneous
he’s got too many tattoos all over his body. all of them with some sort of meaning nobody knows. it’s passages from his life in art designed by himself.
he likes to draw people, but he appeals to the essence of people. what they look like to him in his head, not exactly portraits, but something more abstract.
there’s always a pencil on him. stuck in his hair, behind his ear, in his pocket– anywhere, really.
he’s always drumming on tables, his knees always bouncing. he’s rarely ever quiet, he’s always humming a song as well.
he loves comic books? he dreams to make his very own graphic novel, and he’s very passionate about those.
he disassociates a lot, but has an odd capacity of attention. his brain just catches little details even when it seems he’s not listening.
he’s charismatic, although shy, but that’s where his main charm lies.
he laughs like goofy.
if he has the option, he will not wear any shoes. he hates them. but he loves funky socks. they’re the best present someone can actually give to him.
very detail oriented. he will remember what you dressed, what you smelled like, what your hair looked like, and very specific words people said. he quotes them a lot.
he loves making lists??? idk. he wanted me to add that. idk why it’s relevant. he likes order.
he loves ducks. he has a rubber duck collection in his dorm (sorry roommates).
wanted connections
people he met in LA
people he met in atlanta
someone with a crush on him (he wouldn’t even imagine)
people he’s had/has a crush on (he’s timid when it comes to relationships, he’ll just simp)
stoner buddies
art hoes
comic book nerds
exes
that one ex who was his first everything on his first year
friends
someone who can’t stand his chill and pseudo self acceptance rants
someone who takes advantage of him
anything your heart desires and ur mind can imagine
#gallagher:intro#intro#i added some stuffs for people who read his intro already#if not....... u kno what to do hmu
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call me cupid
w/c: 3.5k
warnings: very mild angst and a few swears
summary: despite your hatred for valentine’s day, peter attempts to make you a card
a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves!! i hope y’all get to spend some time with your people today and eat lots of chocolate <3 love you & enjoy mwah
-
it’s no secret that peter is terrible with words. he gets so flustered he can’t talk or forgets what he wants to say altogether. school presentations are torture. ordering food out is impossible. he’s accepted it at this point, that speaking just isn’t for him.
the one place it doesn’t come across is on paper. peter is ridiculously smart, and he knows all the right words to string together, which is why writing you a valentine should be no trouble at all. should be no trouble at all.
to tell the truth, he’s been sitting at his kitchen table with a blank sheet of paper in front of him for what feels like hours. nothing is coming to him. he’s not sure why this is so hard. you’re his girlfriend, he loves you, he’s said it so many times in every way he could think to. what’s different about it now?
everyone puts way too much pressure on giving the perfect gift when they should really just be enjoying each other’s company on a holiday about love. or, in your words, a meaningless holiday that was created by capitalists as another excuse to take people’s money.
alright, you aren’t too fond of valentine’s day.
it makes anyone who’s single feel like shit and anyone who’s in a relationship lose their shit.
only mj agreed when you shared your criticisms. ned and betty gave you looks like you were insane, and flash muttered something about you being undateable. peter had laughed and swung an arm around your shoulders, but he didn’t fully agree.
although valentine’s day has its flaws, peter likes to see it as twenty four hours of extra appreciation for the people in his life. you can buy chocolate for your friends and family. it doesn’t have to be a significant other, really. him and ned would do it before he had you and ned had betty.
peter wants to remind you how loved you are even if you’re not into the festivities like he is, that bringing him to writing your card. it’s a simple and clinically underrated way of expressing his gratitude. he’d write you love letters every day if he didn’t suck at them.
may comes out of her room to see peter in the same place he’s been since he got home from school. she looks at him through her glasses, smiling as she comes into the room. he’s tapping his pencil on the table, eraser down, searching his mind for anything to write.
“still nothing?” may asks him, making her way over to the cabinets. peter puts down the pencil and sighs. his shoulders slump. “nope. i haven’t gotten past the intro.” “intro, huh?” she teases her newphew and grabs a jar of sauce. “y/n isn’t your teacher, kiddo. you’re not writing her an essay.” she looks at peter over her shoulder. a sheepish smile creeps onto his face.
“you know what i mean.” he reads over the only words on his paper at the moment. dear y/n. he’s starting to feel like spongebob the one time he wrote a paper. “what are you making?” peter asks may so he can temporarily take the focus off his unwritten valentine. “pasta,” may shakes the box in her hand. “and meatballs.”
“should i dial 911 now or wait until we’re in flames?” peter jokes about her awful cooking skills. may shoos him off and puts the box of pasta on the counter. “worry about your own kitchen nightmare.” she nods at the sheet of paper tormenting him. frowning, he glances back at her. “i’m the worst, may. i really don’t know what to write.”
may struggles to open the jar of sauce as she replies. “i thought you said- jesus.” it pops off. “y/n doesn’t like valentine’s day.” she slides over a pot from the stove and dumps the sauce in. peter stares up at the ceiling. “she doesn’t.” that’s probably why he’s having such a hard time. “why are you writing her a card, then?” may questions, turning on a burner.
“because, i dunno, it’s nice? it’ll make her happy? she might not care, but i do.” he mumbles the last part. he’s a bit of a hopeless romantic, so he hasn’t quite adjusted to the idea you had of not getting each other presents. you’re treating it like a regular day. some takeout and cuddles is all you’re doing.
peter would rather buy you things until his pockets are empty. not that there’s much in them, anyway. the point is that you deserve proper spoiling instead of corny words in his shitty handwriting.
“peter, honey. it might be better to stick with what y/n wants,” may suggests while stirring the sauce in the pot. she’s well aware that a few paragraphs from peter won’t change your mind. your opinions belong to you, and there’s nothing he can do about it, though he does have good intentions.
ignoring what may just said, peter makes a request. “what if you help me write it?” she faces the stove again. he can picture her playful smile when she quirks back, “she’s not my girlfriend.” “no, but you’re a girl... a woman,” he corrects himself, earning a scoff from may. “you’d probably know what sounds good.”
“you know y/n better than me, peter. do it on your own,” she exhales and turns back around with the wooden spoon in her hand. “it’ll be more... heartfelt.” peter hates that may is right because he’s completely stuck. his heart is being stupid today. “okay. i’ll try.” he gives her a slow nod. “why don’t you take a break? come stir the sauce. i’ll start the pasta.”
peter gets up from the table and grabs the spoon from may. she pinches his cheek on her way to the sink, getting a tight lipped smile from him.
this is not good.
-
the next day at school, peter asks around the lunch table for advice while you’re on line getting food. he feels guilty about it because may told him not to. he’s never going to get your valentine done if he doesn’t, though. it isn’t the worst thing in the world to bring on some co-writers.
“ok, what do you have so far?” betty asks, fully invested in the situation. she’s hoping this will switch up your views on valentine’s day. peter pulls out the same piece of paper from last night and says verbatim what’s on it. “dear y/n.” he looks up at ned and betty, the corners of his mouth twitching down. ned motions with his hand for peter to go on.
“that’s it,” peter confesses and folds the paper back up in shame. “dude, you told us it was a work in progress,” ned winces, betty taking his hand that’s resting on her shoulder. “where’s the progress?” betty patronizes him. they’re making him feel worse than he already did. what great co-writers he’s collaborating with.
peter throws a hand up, an eye roll included. “yeah, it’s terrible. can you help me or not?” mj narrows her own eyes at peter from the other end of his bench. she’s not interested in participating when the conversation is about forcing you to celebrate a holiday you don’t like.
“ooh!” betty squeals and squeezes ned’s hand. “you should make a list.” ned grins, leaning his head on hers. “genius, babe.” “a list of what?” peter furrows his eyebrows as he looks between the two of them. “what you love about y/n,” she explains, ned adding on, “stuff you do together, or you appreciate.”
“put whatever you come up with into sentences and voilà,” betty says in her best french accent. “oui oui,” ned agrees, both of them giggling. that doesn’t sound half bad. peter could manage a list about you. “thank you so much, guys. you literally just saved valentine’s day,” he confidently tucks his paper into his pocket. “it’s what we do,” ned tells him coolly.
“you never asked what i think,” mj cuts in, staring down her friends, who reluctantly meet her gaze. she pushes her bag of goldfish aside and raises an eyebrow. “mj, we know how you feel about valentine’s day.” peter presses his lips together. “y/n feels the same way,” mj reminds him dryly.
it’s true, but he doesn’t want to hear that right now. he’s having a breakthrough.
like clockwork, you appear at the table. you slip into the spot next to peter and put down your lunch tray. “what’d i miss?” you comment on the obvious tension, eyeing betty for an explanation. mj gives it to you. “valentine’s day discourse,” she tells you knowingly. peter shifts in his seat, uncomfortable, like he’s been caught doing something he isn’t supposed to.
he technically has.
“yuck,” you murmur, winding your arms around peter’s neck. “yuck, yuck, yuck.” he finds your words ironic because you then kiss his cheek, and peck his lips when he turns his head. peter puts a hand on your side and lets his eyes go up and down your face. a smile spreads across it, which he returns without thinking about. mj huffs in disapproval. she’s seen enough pda.
-
peter makes his list later that night. he decided he isn’t being inauthentic because he’s coming up with everything himself. he breezes right through it, jotting down what he loves most about you across the paper. it’s a mess. scribbled out misspellings and shreds of eraser, single words and whole phrases covering both sides. he’s proud of his actual progress.
he’ll write the official letter tomorrow since you’re coming over tonight. he at least has his material. the next, thankfully final, step is to reword it.
you’re ranting to peter about some drama with one of your teachers. he listens intently as always, chuckling when you crack jokes and grinning the entire time, feeling so lucky to have the most passionate, say whatever is on her mind girlfriend ever. seriously, it’s inspiring to watch.
“no, like, i never know what’s going on in that class,” you snort, peter snaking his arms around your middle from behind. “because you don’t pay attention,” he hums with his face nuzzled into the back of your neck. “because it doesn’t make any sense!” you defend yourself. his lips brush against your bare skin, drawing a giggle out of you.
“back to what i was saying,” your voice drips with sarcasm. the two of you naturally gravitate to his room, you walking in first. “she called on me, and i- what’s this?” you escape peter’s arms and head over to his desk. crap, he was working on your valentine and forgot to put it away. it caught your attention because it’s surrounded by crumpled papers and glitter.
peter was... experimenting... with designs for the front of the card. he’s learned that he isn’t too artistic either.
“wait, don’t read that,“ peter tries, but you’ve already got the list in your hands. he anxiously sucks his lower lip into his mouth and comes to stand next to you.
you first see the ‘dear y/n,’ then focus in on a few other words. my person forever, which makes you coo at the paper. insane (in the best way), which makes you gasp dramatically. i know you don’t like valentine’s day, but...
you drop the card back on the desk and let out a breath, shutting your eyes as irritation creeps in. it wouldn’t be fair for you to be mad at peter because it’s a sweet gesture, it really is. just, not for you personally. you’re on opposite sides of the valentine’s spectrum. you despise it, he sort of loves it. you’d hoped to meet somewhere in the middle.
“i thought we said no gifts,” you keep your voice level and spin around to look at peter. his face is painted with guilt. “it’s a card,” he murmurs, then meets your eyes with his brows knitted together. “i can’t even give you a card?” “i mean...” you shrug and shake your head. “look, peter. we had an agreement. i’m not doing valentine’s day.”
his disappointment comes out in the form of hanging his head. “yeah, you’re right. sorry.”
may tried to tell him this would happen, mj tried to tell him, and now you’re telling him. he should’ve expected it. he isn’t sure why he’s being so mopey about it because he was fully aware of your hatred for anything with the word valentine in it. it still hurts. peter just wishes you’d let him have the one day to love you and only you, give you some special attention.
“it’s nothing against you, babe,” you reassure him, noticing the shift in his mood. you put a hand on his shoulder. “i really just don’t like valentine’s day. it feels so... fake to me.” peter musters up a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. it drops when you loop your arms around his torso.
“if i celebrated, you’d be the first person i’d wanna spend it with.” you punctuate your words with a kiss to his cheek. he rests his chin on your head, you nuzzling your own cheek into his sweater. he’s feeling a bit better now. it’s not about him, that’s what he needs to remind himself. “thanks, baby,” peter speaks lowly into the air. you hum as if to say no problem.
scratch literally everything he’s done.
-
peter rolls over in his bed, rubbing at his eyes as his alarm goes off. it’s today. happy valentine’s day to... himself. he doesn’t think you’d want to hear it.
he’s not as broken up about everything as the other day. you have your reasons for not celebrating, and peter accepts them. hey, he still gets to spend the whole day with you. you’re technically having an unspoken valentine’s date.
he gets up from his bed with a yawn and starts to dig through his drawers for an outfit. you should be over soon.
before you head over to peter’s, you decide to make a quick stop at cvs for a few things. you ended up feeling pretty terrible about snapping on him essentially for loving you. it was over a harmless valentine, something to make you feel good and be an outlet for the hundreds of romantic bones in his body. basically, you were bitter about having a thoughtful boyfriend.
you want to make it up to him by giving him gifts instead. you’ll never be down with the whole exploitive and capitalistic side of valentine’s day, but there’s a deeper meaning to it than what you give it credit for. you see that now. peter was able to show his love for you through a homemade mess of a card, and you felt it. the price tags don’t matter. the meaning does.
dressed in his nicest sweater with his hair all styled, peter answers your knocking at his door. a grin instantly paints his face as he takes you in. you’re bundled up in a coat and holding a bag by your side. “hey,” he greets you and lets you past him. you shut the door behind him, returning the smile and winding an arm around his neck for a hug. his drapes around your back.
“hey. happy valentine’s day.” “happy valentine’s-“ peter realizes what he’s about to say and what you just said, then stops himself. “what?” he breaks the hug, squinting at your odd behavior. you’re the last person he’d expected to hear that from. “it’s valentine’s day. so, happy valentine’s day,” you tell him like it’s nothing.
he stays quiet while you shrug off your coat and throw it over one of the kitchen chairs. you bring your bag along with you, peter following you in. he’s suspicious. intrigued, and suspicious. it’s been less than a day since he last say you. you had a change of heart that fast? you aren’t the biggest valentine’s day anti he knows anymore?
“where’s may?” you wonder aloud, taking both of peter’s hands in your now free ones. he eyes the shopping bag you put down while you lace your fingers together. “with happy. they’re getting brunch.” he’s never particularly psyched to talk about their relationship. it’s always been in a joking way, though. now, he sounds genuinely upset to go over may’s whereabouts.
“they’re so cute,” you comment, tugging on peter’s hands so he looks at you. “you good?” “great,” peter half lies and nods, then presses a reassuring kiss to your cheek. he’s not bad. puzzled is the word. what you say next only adds to it.
“good. i have a few things for you,” you beam at him and grab your shopping bag off the chair. that’s what that’s for? peter isn’t fully sure what you’re up to. it doesn’t stop a smile from stretching across his lips, though.
“what happened to no presents?” he tests you as you reach into the bag. “well, i feel bad about how i acted the other day.” you pull out a heart shaped box of chocolates. “the card was really sweet, and i was too caught off guard to appreciate it. i’m sorry, pete.” peter’s eyes twinkle at you, gazing as you give him a smile with a hint of shyness behind it. you’re leaving your comfort zone and entering his.
“i was wrong and cynical and just, yeah. happy valentine’s day,” you add on and shove the box into his hand. he finally grins, so wide and then lets out a breathy laugh. “thanks, y/n. i know it was probably hard to shop being surrounded by this stuff.” he holds up the box. he’s right. you’ll unfortunately be seeing pink and red for weeks. “it was, but i did it for you.” you happily open up your arms for him.
peter puts down the chocolates and pulls you into his arms, his cheek squished against the side of your head as he hugs you to his chest. “oh my god, i love you so much,” he mumbles out, you squeezing him in response. “i love you, pete.” you press a quick kiss to his neck and hold him at arm’s length so you can see him. “i have something else for you.”
“baby,” peter coos, a pout on his lips. “you don’t have to do all of this. i would’ve been fine without the chocolates, even.” “stop, you deserve it,” you shut down the part of him that’s way too nice and selfless. “you’re my real present,” he says lower and with a toothy smile. shaking your head, you reach behind you and into the bag.
he can’t believe you’ve switched stances on valentine’s day. you’re the present pusher, and he’s refusing them. peter thinks it’s some sort of miracle that you’re not only acknowledging the holiday, you’re also partaking in it. his hopeless romantic side tells him it’s actually love, and it is. that’s the cheesy, hallmark movie truth. you suffered through shopping at a heart themed cvs because you love him. simple.
you return with a pink envelope that you place into peter’s hand. his face softens as he closes his fingers around it. “y/n, you made me a card?” “kind of,” you laugh at his overstatement. it’s obviously pre-made. you’d used a pen to fill it out in the store, scribbled a few words and tucked it into the envelope.
“it really doesn’t compare to yours, though,” you simultaneously warn and compliment him. peter dismisses you with a lighthearted click of his tongue. “oh, shush. that was only a rough draft.” “which proves my point even more. open it.” you grip onto the bottom of his sweater and grin.
he keeps his eyes on you while ripping open the envelope, then looks down and chuckles at the gag of the card. it has r2d2 and r4d4 from star wars on the front. inside is already written, “r4 is red and r2 is blue. if i was the force then i’d be with you.” you giggle to yourself, watching him read what you wrote next. i love you more every day, especially on valentine’s. xo, y/n.
peter holds the card to his side and slings an arm around your waist. “they make star wars valentines?” he murmurs, another smile breaking out on his face, one that you of course return. you use his sweater to pull him closer. “apparently. perfect for you.” peter tosses the card down next to the chocolates, both arms now holding you.
“thank you so much, baby. you’re an angel,” he sighs and pecks your lips after. “call me cupid,” you answer.
you give him a longer kiss back, tilting your head up to deepen it. your hands find their place on his biceps, earning a hum from peter as he moves his lips against yours. you can feel his love in every little movement, how he hugs your waist like you’re made of glass, rests his forehead against yours. when your lips mutually detach, peter speaks first, voice slightly husky.
“happy valentine’s day, cupid.”
you breathe out, peter closing his eyes in content.
“happy valentine’s day, r2.”
#tom holland#tom holland fluff#tom holland imagine#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland x y/n#tom holland smut#peter parker#peter parker imagine#peter parker fluff#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#peter parker fic#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker smut
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Two Left Hooves [2/7] - Choice II
Choose your own adventure ~ “What’s Better than Breakfast in Bed?“
Characters: Technoblade x gn!reader, Philza
Summary: You've asked Techno whether he wants to sleep with you or not, and he makes up some excuse to join you. He cuddles with you into the night, but you're greeted with a nightmare, Dream's voice warns you of something to come, but refuses to specify what. Techno pulls you out of the dream and you sleep undisturbed until he greets you with breakfast in the morning.
Warnings: Cussing, Nightmares
IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE INTRO AND CHOSEN YOUR ROUTE, DO SO HERE: INTRO
— The Bird —
"Techno-" I said, kneeling to his level, "What do you want? I mean, you can sleep with me if you want to."
He paused, expecting a quip, but instead, I'd forced him to choose for himself.
"Seeing as you’re already cold, even with the fire..." He clicked his tongue, testing his words, "I want to keep you warm."
Holy shit that's adorable, I thought. Techno never let emotions shine through his words. When I talked to him, I had to constantly read between the lines. His monotone speech was, I supposed, a product of his repressed emotions. Ever since meeting him, I felt like it was my responsibility to dismantle the fortress he’d put around his heart.
"Excuses, excuses," I teased, “but you’re right, I’m gonna freeze without you.” I smiled at him. He let out a small huff, but his expression was unreadable.
"It's not an excuse, it's a reason," he said, turning to me, "They're desperate for me to be at the banquet, but they won't let me go alone, alright? If I let you freeze to death, it wouldn't make for great PR."
I rolled my eyes and scoffed, standing up. I offered a hand to him, to help him stand, "Thank you for not killing me so you don't have to go," I whispered.
"No problem, heh," he took my hand and stood, "I'll be back in a bit, alright?"
"Where are you going?"
"Just downstairs, get ready for bed," He said, dodging the question. He let go of my hand and awkwardly pat me on the head, leaving the room.
I didn't know how the ball was going to work out. On the one hand, Techno would go to the banquet and it'd be as awkward as it's always been between us. On the other, I'd manage to tear down his walls and reveal his emotions, changing our relationship forever.
Techno presented himself as untouchable, calling himself 'the blood god,' but I saw him hold back tears when Tommy betrayed him. I saw the destruction his wrath brought upon L'Manburg. He has compassion, but if he bottled them up any longer, there's no telling who he'd become. He couldn't keep letting everything out as anger, or we'd all pay the price.
I dressed for the night, setting his cape on the back of his chair. I chose a simple shirt and pants, the thickest ones I'd brought with me. I was still cold, but I took the opportunity to inspect his room.
He lives in the attic, a small loft with sparse decoration. What little furniture he did have was extravagant and of the highest quality. His desk chair was made of dark oak wood, the velvet red cushion was well worn. The table matched, a knife was stuck in it, too hard for me to pull out. It was dull, probably used to open letters.
His bed was made, probably just before I got there since it was only roughly put together. Next to it, there was a giant bookshelf pushed against the wall. Most of the books were unmarked and dusty, but a few of them were clean, recently put back. The Art of War, Odyssey, and the Iliad were among them. Their spines were worn and multiple bookmarks were sticking out of the top of each.
"Do you read much?" Techno asked, startling me.
"Um, oh," I stuttered, "I don't know where to get books from, so..."
"No?" He reached over and pulled The Art of War out of the bookshelf.
"I live out in the middle of nowhere," I shrugged, "The only thing I read is my mail."
"That's pretty sad," he said matter-of-factly.
"I have plenty of things to occupy my time with, Technoblade," I crossed my arms.
"Mhm," he handed me the book. Its cover was more worn than its spine, the old leather was cracking at the corners. "Take that home with you, I've read it a thousand times. Might come in handy."
"I suppose I can use it to knock intruders out," I flipped it over. It was like a brick in my hand, heavy and hard enough to break a window. "Thanks."
I yawned, realising how late it's gotten. I left my house almost a full twenty-four hours ago and I rode endlessly until I got here. I was exhausted.
I walked over to my pile of stuff and carefully placed the book in my bag. I then took a bit of a running start and jumped onto the bed, landing in a pile of furs and knitted blankets. "Don't wake me up in the morning," I muttered.
Techno came over and sat on the bed next to me. "I'll try not to," He said.
I shuffled under the blankets and shivered. The furs were enough to keep my body heat in, but I wouldn't tell Techno that. I heard him pick the covers up to join me. Soon, I felt his arms wrap around me, his chest to my back.
My cheeks flushed bright pink and I stifled a giggle. The blood god is snuggling with me... This is not what I thought was going to happen when I joined the server. I smiled and put my hand on his, wrapped around my waist. No one was going to believe this ever happened.
--- The Bird's Dream ---
He’s there, he’s right there. I need to go see him, I need to get there before it’s too late. There are so many people in the way, I’m not going to be there in time to dance. Who are all these people? They whisper about him as if they know him, as if they watch his every step and live in his mind. Left and right, they whisper things about me, about him.
“Did you hear, he’s going to the ball!”
“Oh and with that beautiful bird,”
“If only they knew. Tsk.”
Their eyes were unmoving, fixated on me. I shoved my way through the crowd, suddenly falling into the void.
“Did you really think it was going to be that simple? That you’d just seduce him with the snap of your fingers? He’s not a dog, he can’t be trained. He’s a wild animal. He’s unstable, He’ll break your heart, little bird.” Dream's voice boomed, echoing in my mind.
"Who are you?" I tried to yell, but only air came out.
"I'm the one who whitelisted you, the one who trusted you."
"What does that mean?" I was desperate to stop, to wake up, but I was falling infinitely.
"That's not for you to know, Puppet. You're here because I have a job for you, nothing more. You're the only one that can get through to him."
"What- What's my job? Why am I here?"
"You'll know soon enough-"
--- Technoblade ---
I slept soundly until I felt them stir under me. It sounded like they were having a nightmare, they muttered my name. What the hell are they dreaming about? I pulled them closer, brushing my hand through their hair. I wanted to wake them softly, so they'd forget about whatever was just racing through their mind.
They took a deep breath, signalling their waking. I continued to stroke their hair, "You ok, Bird?"
They mumbled an 'ok' and turned to face me, burying their face in my neck. I did the same and took deep breaths for them to follow. Within minutes, they were asleep in my arms. It felt right.
I didn't have the heart to admit it. If I did, I'd just have to tear it all away again, I'd be the one thing I truly hated. I'd be a traitor.
Don't get attached, Techno. We get to break hearts now, not just crush them! If you name this one, you'll regret it. Nothing screams ruin more than you do.
-
I woke up to birds chirping outside my window. The weather had finally let up, now I could finally get real work done. It took me a couple of seconds to remember the person fast asleep in my arms. A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it.
Carefully, I picked up the covers and snuck out of bed. I wanted to keep my promise not to wake them up, and so I immediately left the room, avoiding the creaky floorboards as I descended the stairs to the kitchen.
I pulled half a dozen eggs out of their box and cracked and cooked them over the fire, adding the occasional spice so it wasn't too bland. I toasted some bread and stuck it all on separate plates. Four eggs for me, two for them. I was two times their size, after all. The image of them laying on my bed flashed in my mind, making me smile. I shook it off. I couldn't get attached any more than I was now.
I pulled myself together and went back upstairs with the food. I put my plate on my desk, pulling the knife out of it and stashing it in my drawer. I walked over to the bed, placing their food on the nightstand. I reached over and gently pat them on the head, slowly waking them.
"Good morning," I whispered.
They opened their eyes and mumbled "G'morn'n,"
"I made you some eggs," I said, still petting their head, "You should eat them while they're hot,"
"Ok," they sat up and I moved back over to my desk, sitting in my chair.
They yawned and stretched, their shirt raising over their waist, exposing their belly button. I looked away and busied myself with my food.
Oh, look at them, they're so cute... so naive... so vulnerable.
I wanted to scream at the voices to shut up. They had been plaguing me ever since Phil suggested I invite them. For some reason, they had a vendetta against the bird. They wanted to see them suffer to, in turn, make me suffer. The voice's presence itself was enough to turn my hair grey, but this added a whole extra layer to my agony.
"Techno?"
"Hmm?" I didn't look up from my food.
"Did you make me breakfast in bed?"
I looked at them, hiding my embarrassment, "You told me not to wake you, but I was hungry, and I thought you'd like some too."
They blushed and shrugged. "You know me so well," they sighed.
"And I thought you'd appreciate the origin of the eggs," I added.
"Oh, and where are they from?" Their mouth was full, making them mumble a bit. They looked a bit scared.
"Well," I leaned towards them in my chair, "They're from The egg."
"Bullshit," they called, stuffing their face with more eggs. Maybe I should have given them more.
I laughed, genuinely, "They're just chicken eggs, I doubt the egg would taste very good,"
We ate and joked like nothing was wrong in the world. They were so good at making me feel at home, but the voices were eager to remind me of my past. I wouldn't let them spoil this. What we had was new to me, and I wouldn't just lay down and take the voices at their word. Gods know they aren't worth their weight.
— Philza —
“Hey, you two…” I creaked open the front door to Techno’s cabin.
The bird smiled at me from the breakfast bar, “Hey Phil, good morning!” They seemed very chipper for having just woken up. Both of them were already dressed in the day’s clothes, excluding overcoats that hung on the hooks by the door.
“Hello, Phil,” Techno nodded at me. His hair was neatly braided and they were both already dressed.
"How was your morning?"
"Techno made me breakfast!" They laughed. That was a surprise, he didn't even cook for me.
"Ooh, nice," I said, "What's better than breakfast in bed, eh?"
"Riches beyond your wildest dreams," Techno chuckled. I guess they were both in a good mood this morning.
“It’s nice to see you, mate,” I said to the bird, wandering over to join them at the breakfast bar. I sat down on a stool next to them, putting the notebook on the counter in front of me. “I’ve got something for you.”
“Ooh, what is it?” They said, sliding the notebook over to them. I reached over and opened it to the page I was referring to.
“The banquet has a dress code, and I’m assuming you don’t have anything that matches it,” Everything they wore was forest green or yellow, sometimes they had black or white clothes, but it was few and far between.
“What’s the dress code?”
“It’s blue, black, white, and gold,” I pointed to two drawings on the page, “I’m thinking either I make you a dress or a tuxedo, or I can mix the two. A tux top with a skirt. What do you think?”
They pressed their lips together, surveying their options. I tried my best to draw them, although they were rough sketches of a fancier design in my head. I could draw buildings and architecture for my blueprints, but flow-y things were not as easy.
/// UNDER CONSTRUCTION, BRRRRR ///
Choose your garment! It only affects the story slightly, I promise! There is no gender attached to them, it just changes how you’ll interact with people :)
Dress
Tux-dress
Tuxedo
#technoblade x reader#techno x reader#c!techno x reader#c!technoblade x reader#dreamxd#dreamsmp#dsmp#mcyt#dreamsmp x reader#dsmp x reader#philza#elias original#two left hooves
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someone to you || a tarlos fic
read on ao3 || word count: 6.1k
Summary:
Ever since the start of the semester, Carlos has been harboring a crush on the cute guy in his weekly lecture. When the boy begins appearing at the coffee shop Carlos works at, attending weekly open mic nights, Carlos finds himself falling a little bit more with each song. After one slightly awkward introduction, Carlos goes from being unknown to seen. With a friendship fully in place, Carlos' feelings only grow but he slowly starts to see that maybe, just maybe, he isn't alone in thinking they could be something more.
story mood board by: @sunshinestrand
literally just reposting this story because Paige surprised me and blessed me with this graphic and it needs to be seen! thank you so much, my love! I loved writing this fic for you. now we’ve come full circle 💜💕
I’ll make the moon shine just for your view
I’ll make the starlight circle the room
And if you feel like night is falling
I wanna be the one you’re calling
“If you don’t say something to him one of these days, I just might lose my mind,” Michelle says with a sigh as she approaches the counter where Carlos is standing.
He chews absentmindedly on his bottom lip as he looks over at TK. Everything to the guy is so effortless. Somehow he makes sitting down in a coffee shop look like an ad as he holds up his mug aloft and laughs at something one of his friends says.
Carlos would give anything to have that kind of access to TK, to be able to share in jokes and to simply know him. Carlos is fairly certain TK doesn’t even know they’re in the same lecture every Tuesday. But even in a hall filled with students, Carlos is always able to spot him, constantly dialed into his frequency like his favorite radio station.
Realizing that he’s been blatantly staring, Carlos clears his throat and looks away, mindlessly pouring sugar into a dispenser.
“It’s just a stupid crush. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Michelle rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well the way I see you gawk at him every week he shows up here says otherwise.”
Carlos can’t help it. In their class TK almost never speaks but each time he makes it out to an open mic, Carlos gets treated to TK quite literally under a spotlight, up on stage singing and playing his guitar or the keyboard.
“He’s really good. I like his sound is all.”
“Is that a euphemism?” Michelle teases, bumping her hip against Carlos’ as she passes by him. “I think it’s safe to say you like his everything.”
He jokingly glares at her before laughing. She’s definitely not wrong about that. Carlos has been crushing quietly since he first saw TK in their lecture at the start of term a little over two months ago. TK has been coming to open mic nights here at the cafe for the last month. Each week he performs, Carlos feels himself fall a little harder, swept up in his beautiful voice. Whether TK performs original music or a cover of something, he always brings the house down.
Michelle glances at her watch. “Oh, I have to start in just a few. Are you okay up here?”
“Yeah, I can tackle the counter. You go ahead.”
She pats his arm once with a smile before moving from behind the counter to head towards the stage to double check the microphones and setup for the evening’s session. He turns his focus back on refilling the dispensers in front of him. A shadow casts suddenly over the countertop, darkening his work area. Carlos looks up, his hand jerking forward in surprise to see TK smiling at him. Sugar spills against the surface, Carlos quickly tipping the bag upright to stem the flow.
“Shoot, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” TK says, grabbing a tissue and trying to clean up the grains of sugar.
Carlos grabs a dry rag from under the counter and wipes it away.
“No worries. It’s cool. Uh, can I get anything for you?” he asks, looking back at TK, doing his best to ignore the way his heart is hammering. This isn’t how he pictured his first substantial interaction with TK to go but he saves face as best he can.
“Could I trouble you for a scone?” TK says, jutting at the case with his thumb.
Carlos holds his breath and nods, clearing his throat, picking up the tongs and a plate. “Yeah, sure thing.”
TK smiles and Carlos can feel something inside his chest melt at the sight. Before he can dwell on it or potentially embarrass himself by randomly saying something to prolong the moment, he quickly puts the pastry on the dish. TK already has his card out, ready to pay for it.
Carlos ignores the slight tremble in his hands as he takes it, mentally reprimanding himself for getting so worked up over his brief and truly mundane conversation with TK.
“Here you go,” he says, handing back TK’s card and pushing the plate toward him.
TK thanks him and Carlos thinks that’s the end of their interaction until TK looks up again and eyes him thoughtfully.
“I feel like I know you.”
The phrasing makes his breath catch in his throat but he quickly realizes what TK actually means.
“We have a class together, don’t we?”
“Astronomy,” Carlos supplies.
TK snaps his fingers and points at him. “Right, yes. That’s it. Man, that was really bugging me. I knew I recognized you from somewhere other than here. It’s good to see you…”
“Carlos.”
“Carlos,” he repeats as if weighing the syllables on his tongue. “I’m TK. It’s nice to meet you officially.”
“Yeah, you too.”
The house lights dim and both TK and Carlos snap their heads towards the stage where Michelle approaches the microphone.
“Hello and welcome to open mic night here at Déjà Brew,” she greets. There’s a warm round of applause and eager cheering from the crowd gathered.
“It’s always so great seeing so many familiar faces and new ones alike. There are still slots available. Our sign up sheet will remain here just offstage for anyone that would like to perform,” she says, gesturing to her left. “Without further ado, please help me welcome one of our favorite regulars to the stage…Mr. TK Strand. Take it away, sir,” she muses.
TK turns back to Carlos and looks as if he wants to say something but the crowd is already giving him a warm, welcoming applause. He quickly takes his scone and hurries back to his table where one of his friends is holding out his guitar for him.
Carlos lets out a breath as TK approaches the stage and settles on the stool positioned right in the center of it. A few people whoop and cheer for him once again now that he’s situated. TK laughs coyly but the microphone sends his chuckle throughout the room.
“Thank you for that lovely intro, Michelle. Very flattering; I love being a favorite but really, who doesn’t?” he jokes, earning a few laughs. “I was debating what to play tonight. I’ve been working on some new stuff but finally settled on just going for one of my favorite songs by one of my favorite artists. This is The Girl by City and Colour, bastardized by me.”
There are a few more laughs, TK personable as ever that he makes each person feel like they’re old friends. Anyone who has ever heard him play knows there’s no way he won’t knock this cover out of the park.
From the first string TK plucks, the room is completely his. Carlos watches his fingers move expertly along the fretboard. It’s a real sight to see and as Carlos looks away from TK’s hands to his face, he can see just how much fun he’s having with the playful opening melody.
TK gets close to the mic and starts to sing and instantly Carlos leans closer, arms folded on the counter as he watches TK in action. There isn’t a single person speaking quietly to a friend or distracted by their phone. All eyes are glued to the musician on stage. Carlos could listen to TK play all day and never grow tired of the sound. It’s remarkable how his voice floats and cloaks the room, each note nestling in his chest like seeds.
The audience erupts into applause as TK’s final note rings out. He smiles to himself before looking out at the crowd.
“Thank you so much,” he says into the mic before slipping off his guitar and hopping down from the low stage.
Carlos can’t help but to smile as people TK passes give him thumbs up or murmur compliments as he returns to the table with his friends.
Michelle gets back on stage and introduces the next person on the sign up sheet.
The next performer is great but Carlos knows he’s more than a little biased in saying that TK will be the best person to hit the stage tonight.
He chances a glance over at TK and sees that TK is looking at him as he breaks off a piece of his scone. Carlos quickly looks away and focuses on other tasks throughout the rest of his shift, ones that don’t include keeping tabs on the comings and goings of a certain musician.
The night comes to a close, marking yet another successful open mic night. Given that it’s Friday, most of the crowd dissipated as the evening progressed to perhaps party or hang out elsewhere. TK and his friends opted to stay for the entire session, as they almost always do, showing support to each performer who graced the stage.
As TK and his group begin to file out for the night, Carlos waves them off as they say their thanks for another fun night at the shop. Carlos turns his back for a moment to replenish silverware when he hears the quick rap of knuckles on the counter. He turns and is greeted to TK’s bright and open smile up close for the second time this evening.
“So, I’ll see you on Tuesday, right?” he says, hitching the strap of his guitar case up his shoulder.
Brought up short at TK essentially singling him out just then, Carlos nods slowly before he finds his voice again.
“Yeah, definitely. I’ll uh, I’ll see you next week.”
“Cool. Have a good night, Carlos,” TK replies simply with the smile that hasn’t left his face. He knocks on the counter once as if to punctuate his sentence and slinks away to join his friends just outside of the shop.
“Looks like you made it onto someone’s radar tonight,” Michelle sing-songs, settling in beside him.
Carlos stares out the window at TK with his friends, one guy nudging his arm as they begin to walk away. Once they’re out of view, Carlos turns back to look at her.
“He’s just being nice.”
“Denial runs deep in you, doesn’t it?” she teases, shaking her head. “Come on, let’s try and finish up so you can have some of the night to yourself, loverboy.”
~*~*~
On Tuesday Carlos makes sure he shows up early for his lecture, standing outside of the hall doors waiting for the group before him to clear out. Today has the potential to be so different from all the other lectures that have come before it. This Tuesday in particular marks the first time TK will truly know of his existence in the hall too.
He tries to settle his nerves by reading news on his phone but he’s too anxious to focus on the words for long. He gives up with a sigh, tucking his phone into his pocket when TK comes bounding toward him with a bemused smile.
“I was hoping you’d come early, too. We didn’t really get a chance to talk much on Friday,” TK says, completely blowing past any formal greeting. Carlos is taken aback by that candor.
“Yeah, I guess not. You were great, by the way. I mean, you always are but…I really liked your performance. I’ve pretty much been listening to the song on a loop since Friday so thanks for the rec.”
Carlos’ heart nosedives as he realizes what he’s just disclosed so openly. But TK doesn’t appear to think it an odd statement. His face lights up, genuinely pleased.
“Oh yeah? That’s awesome.”
“You’ve got great taste in music though, I guess that really shouldn’t be surprising.”
TK laughs. “I’d be majoring in the wrong field if I didn’t, that’s for sure.”
Before Carlos can reply, the doors to the lecture hall open, students filing out into the hallway. Carlos thinks this kills off the chance of speaking to TK still but the guy stays close to him once the doors are clear enough for them to enter too.
“Hey, do you mind if I sit with you today?” TK asks.
Carlos quickly shakes his head. “Uh, no. Not at all.”
He heads up the flight of stairs in the hall, taking up his usual seat. The one beside him is typically home for his backpack but today it’s TK’s frame that settles into the chair.
Carlos takes covert glances at him from the corner of his eye. It was truly so much easier to look at him when he was across the hall these last few weeks. This close up, it’s much harder to sneak and get an open look. But just sitting beside him makes Carlos so acutely aware of TK’s movements.
As the lecture starts, he zones out in favor of taking notice each time TK toys with the strings on his hoodie or his leg bounces restlessly.
The hour and a half passes in a blur and Carlos is surprised to look down and realize he actually still managed to take a decent amount of notes. Their professor reminds them of an upcoming assignment to which TK groans and quickly writes something down in his book, underlining it twice.
“I totally spaced on that.”
“Was that meant to be an astronomy pun?” Carlos cringes at himself but TK laughs heartedly.
“That was a good one.” He closes his notebook and puts it back into his bag, Carlos following suit and packing up his things as well. “But seriously, I completely forgot the deadline was coming up so quickly.”
“I could…if you need someone to go through it with you or anything, I could help,” he offers.
“Carlos, that’s so sweet of you but you don’t have to do that. I got myself into this mess. I’ll figure something out. But, I mean, maybe I could get your number just in case I hit a snag or something?”
The quick turnaround from feeling rejected to elated is jarring but Carlos smiles and says, “Definitely, yeah.”
TK flashes a smile back and takes his phone out, unlocking it before surrendering it to Carlos to create a new contact. When Carlos is done, he hands the phone back to TK who looks at the newest addition to his phone.
“Cool.” TK sends him a quick text. “Just in case you need to get in touch with me for any reason before then, now you can.”
That phrasing sounds like a challenge, as if TK is now tipping the ball into his court.
“I’ll keep that in mind ,” he says.
~*~*~
Texting with TK becomes such a part of Carlos’ daily routine now. It’s to the point where he comes to expect a message from TK each time his phone buzzes as they’ve had a pretty consistent chain going all week. TK’s most recent text, however, wasn’t a Spotify link to a song he thought Carlos might like but rather an SOS to help him complete his astronomy assignment. The message was followed with TK’s building and room number and the entire walk across campus is spent with Carlos’ heart racing until he’s knocking at TK’s door.
“Thank you,” TK immediately says as he lets Carlos in. “I almost didn’t text you to come over but I’m pretty sure I’ve been doing this wrong.”
Carlos looks around the room as he steps in, clearly picking up on which side is TK’s. There are guitar picks and sheet music on one of the desks, two guitar cases leaning against the wall by the foot of one bed. Above the bed itself is a stylish black and white map of Manhattan. Carlos smiles to himself seeing these traces of TK in the space.
“You can grab a seat,” TK says, gesturing to the desk chair. TK sits at the foot of the bed, a small gap of space separating them.
The air feels charged but Carlos is certain that’s all in his head. Being alone in TK’s room is worlds away from sitting beside him during their lectures.
“Okay, let’s see what you have so far,” Carlos says, determined to focus on the task at hand.
They work for about two hours, getting distracted with cracking jokes every now and then and talking about random things as they eventually end up on the floor with papers and charts spread out between them. It’s a mess but Carlos looks over all that they have and draws one very clear conclusion.
“We did it. You’re officially done.”
TK throws his hands up in victory and laughs, flopping down to rest his back on the floor and stare up at the ceiling.
“Holy shit. Thank you. Again. You’re a lifesaver; I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” He turns his head to look at Carlos who merely shrugs.
But Carlos can’t deny how good it feels to be of help and save TK from the stress he’s been feeling with this assignment hanging over his head. TK is looking at him as if he’s a saint or something. Carlos can feel the back of his neck warming up and busies himself with gathering the sheets of paper around them to avoid looking at TK for even a moment longer before that blush spreads to his face.
“What are friends for, right?” he says, only daring to look back at TK now that he’s collected himself.
TK eyes him thoughtfully and Carlos holds his breaths as he waits to see what TK will have to say.
“Lucky me for having you as mine.”
~*~*~
TK has been frequenting the shop more often than his usual Friday nights. Now Carlos has come to expect him here and there but on Sundays mostly where the crowd is far less dense and the evenings are slowgoing enough that Carlos can actually linger behind the counter and chat with him. It’s become a common occurrence for TK to plant himself at one of the elevated seats and work on assignments. More often than not, the books get neglected for long stretches of time. It’s a comfortable routine, one that Carlos has been finding himself growing dependent on.
TK helps him clean up for the night, offering to sweep while Carlos closes out the registers. They don’t speak much as they focus on their tasks but there’s a comfort in just having TK there, to look up from counting the till to see him moving about the room. This coffee shop really belongs to them in their own ways and now they’ve managed to find yet another way to make it special.
Carlos gets back to his closing duties as TK volunteers to put the trash out back. While he’s gone, Carlos makes a quick to-go cup of green tea, TK’s usual, as thanks. TK comes back in and heads over to wash his hands in the bathroom.
When he returns, he joins Carlos at the counter who pushes the cup forward.
“For your hard work tonight,” Carlos says.
TK smirks and picks it up, bringing the cup to his mouth. “If you keep this up, you may never get rid of me.”
“Ah, so you’re on to me then.” The words slip from his lips so easily but TK doesn’t seem put off. Instead the boy smiles into his cup as he takes a sip.
Relieved, Carlos takes his store keys out of his bag and heads for the door. TK steps out as he flips off the switch, the shop plunged in darkness as he locks back.
“Thanks again for sticking around and helping me,” he says as they begin to head back to campus. “You really didn’t have to do any of that.”
“Are you kidding me? It’s the least I could do. You completely saved my ass last week and besides, it was just…nice. I like hanging out with you.”
Carlos bites the inside of his cheek to keep from breaking out into a ridiculous grin. He feels like he’s in middle school again with just how much he’s been crushing on TK but he can’t help it. His stomach always seems to do cartwheels when TK is around, especially when he makes statements like this.
They walk alongside each other in comfortable silence for a time. Carlos does his best not to keep stealing glances at TK but it’s easier said than done. A few times he’s caught TK looking at him which throws him off guard but it’s certainly not unwelcome.
“How old were you when you started playing?” he asks as they near campus.
“I always sort of grew up around the piano. My mom played and she had one in the apartment so I’d sit with her sometimes and she taught me a few things here and there. But I didn’t start taking it really seriously until I was about seven, maybe eight. It was our thing, you know? My parents…things with them went south and she was busy a lot with work. But whenever we did get to check in with each other, we’d find ourselves on the piano bench together. I loved that time with her, even though it became harder and harder to come by the older I got.”
Carlos smiles a bit sadly. But, he thinks, it says a lot that TK is able to be so candid with him about his upbringing. It’s pretty personal insight and yet TK extends it to him so freely. He supposes TK may just be an open guy in general but it still means a lot to be trusted in this manner.
“Wow, that took a turn, I’m sorry,” TK laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck.
“No, it’s okay, really. I don’t mind at all.” TK nods at this and continues after a beat.
“I got my first guitar on my tenth birthday from my dad. I think he was trying to speak our language in his own way and I really appreciated it. I took to that pretty well and became a bit obsessed, clearly. Totally thought I was going to be a kid rockstar,” he jokes. “Anyway, music’s always been there for as long as I can remember.”
“That’s really cool, TK. Most people go on a long journey to find the thing that’s right for them but your passion found you early on.”
Carlos’ building comes into view and each step towards it fills him with utter dread. They’ve already managed to stretch this night but greedily, it’s still not enough for him.
As they come to a stop outside the doors to his building, TK stares at him and for a wild moment, Carlos thinks TK might kiss him. TK does lean in but it’s to give a hug, one in which Carlos gladly reciprocates.
“It was great getting to hang out with you tonight. I had a lot of fun.”
“Me too,” Carlos replies, subtly drawing in a breath and breathing TK in as they embrace.
TK begins to pull away after a moment and places a soft kiss on Carlos’ cheek.
Carlos is sure his face flushes and he’s all too grateful for the cover of night to disguise it. They both avoid each other’s gaze for a second before laughing a bit. TK stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Carlos tries to remember how to form a sentence.
“Goodnight, TK,” he says softly.
TK searches his eyes for a moment, almost pensively before smiling faintly.
“Goodnight, Carlos. Sweet dreams.”
~*~*~
Carlos has not been able to shake his walk home with TK. Each time he thinks about it, he can practically feel TK’s lips on his cheek. It was such a modest kiss, a quick peck that probably didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things and yet, it’s all he can think about.
On Tuesday they sat beside each other, same as always and have continued chatting regularly through texts. Neither has made even the smallest hint or mention of what happened Sunday night. It makes Carlos wonder if he’s been blowing this out of proportion or if TK is just as clueless on what comes next as he is.
The latter seems almost comical. TK is perhaps the smoothest, most confident guy he knows. If he wanted to progress things further, he would have already.
Carlos does his best not to stare now at TK’s table. Friday night has rolled around once again and while Carlos is excited to see TK perform, it’s hard to see him and not feel transported back to Sunday night. The phantom sensation of that chaste kiss has kept him up every night this week.
“You okay?” Michelle asks, pulling Carlos from his thoughts.
Carlos blinks twice and nods. “Yeah, just tired I guess.” His eyes flicker to where TK is seated.
Something about him seems off tonight. Normally he’d be the liveliest one at the table but TK seems withdrawn.
Michelle makes a noncommittal hum but says nothing else on the matter and Carlos is grateful for it. She excuses herself to start tonight’s event.
He busies himself with customers who approach the counter as the evening kicks off, the backdrop of performers truly background noise as he works.
Michelle calls TK to the stage when it’s his turn and immediately Carlos zeroes in on his table. TK’s friend pats him on the back before letting out a whoop as he settles up on stage before the keyboard.
“Hey, guys. This one’s been playing on my mind a lot these days. Figured I should do something with it and free it somehow. So, yeah. This is Bloodstream by Stateless.”
TK clears his throat and it’s strange but for the first time, the young man actually looks and sounds nervous. He looks over at Carlos who smiles encouragingly. TK blinks twice and looks down at the keys, brows deepened before playing.
The melody he plays is eerie but beautiful, Carlos’ interest all the more piqued as TK’s fingers strike deftly. The song is haunting, TK’s voice much more gravelly than usual and it’s all so captivating that Carlos holds his breath as he listens.
I think I might’ve inhaled you
I could feel you behind my eyes
“Gee, wonder who this one is for,” Michelle says, coming up beside him at the counter for a glass of water.
Carlos can’t even offer a response as he continues to watch TK. The guy’s eyes are closed as he croons into the mic, his shoulders bouncing as he strikes the right notes.
He feels goosebumps watching TK perform and can’t help but to hope there’s some validity in what Michelle is not so subtly hinting at.
TK tinkers around on the keyboard for the last few notes, his eyes landing on Carlos for the briefest of seconds as the audience claps for him. He thanks them and rises from his seat, hopping off the stage and returning to his table— but not without another look at Carlos before he sits once more with his friends.
Carlos feels shaken, his heart ricocheting like a pinball.
He hopes so fiercely that TK’s performance was a declaration of some kind but the night ends for the first time since they’ve befriended each other with an awkward smile and wave from a distance as TK and his friends leave.
Carlos isn’t sure what to make of any of this.
~*~*~
The strange energy doesn’t last long. The very next day TK shoots him a random humorous text and Carlos is glad for the ice breaker as it allows them to get back on track. They easily fall into their usual routine and as the week progresses, the night at the shop soon seems like a lifetime away.
TK invites Carlos to his dorm to hang out Wednesday afternoon and Carlos is all too happy to accept, taking advantage of his free time to head over to TK’s building.
From what he can discern, TK’s roommate is the next best thing to living alone. The guy is never in the room, leaving Carlos with uninterrupted time to just talk and be around TK any time he visits.
TK sits at the foot of the bed with his guitar, plucking out a melody for a song he’s been working on and hoping to debut at open mic. He’s got a pencil trapped between his teeth as he plays, stopping occasionally to jot down a note in the open book beside him. It’s fascinating to watch his process from his spot in the middle of TK’s bed, seeing how he develops an idea from a mere thought to an actual song, to something tangible.
“I hope this one goes over well on Friday,” TK mutters, moreso to himself.
“I know it will. Everyone loves you there and your songs are always a huge hit. This won’t be any different.”
TK smiles warmly at his sentiment. “Thanks. It’s always a bit nerve wracking to perform something new and original but it’s pretty exciting, too.”
Carlos shakes his head and laughs, resting his back against the wall.
“I could never do what you do.”
TK finger picks without even looking at the fret as he eyes Carlos quizzically.
“What? Play or perform?”
“Both. I love music but I don’t have the talent for learning. And performing? Ha, there’s no way you’d ever catch me in front of a crowd. But every week you get up there and knock it out of the park. It’s incredible though.”
TK’s mouth twists to the side slightly before he sets his guitar back into its case on the ground and turns to face Carlos again.
“Lay down,” TK says unexpectedly. Carlos is sure his expression must be bewildered because TK laughs and rolls his eyes. “I’m not about to steal your virtue. Just…settle back for a second.”
Carlos does as he’s instructed and stretches out on TK’s bed completely, his head coming to rest on the guy’s pillow. TK’s scent is everywhere and with the young man smiling over him now as he sits just to the left of him on the edge of the small bed, it’s enough to make his head spin and heart stop. He stares at him as TK speaks.
“Playing is a lot easier than you might think. It’s all about proper placement and timing.” He sets his fingertips against Carlos’ ribcage like they’re keys on a piano.
Carlos searches his face as TK mimics playing and hums a melody. It sounds familiar to Carlos but he can’t place it; it’s something classical, he knows. But his main focus is on TK’s light touches, each press of his fingertips like ripples on the surface of water. His long fingers skate up and down Carlos’ side as TK continues to play as if he’s on a Steinway.
It’s a marvel watching his expression. It’s all make-believe but Carlos has no doubt TK can see it all as clear as day in his mind’s eyes, the ivory and black keys. Though his gaze is fixed on TK’s face, the young man doesn’t lose his own focus and doesn’t catch Carlos’ eye until the final note.
“See? Nothing to it,” TK says, eyes shining with amusement.
It isn’t a conscious decision, that much Carlos knows as he sits up slowly and inches closely to TK, his hand cupping the nape of his neck. He doesn’t typically make bold moves but the draw he feels to TK is simply too much to ignore now.
TK falls silent and stares at him but doesn’t move away, his lips parting. After a beat, he draws nearer as well. Their noses touch, Carlos nuzzling gently before bringing his mouth to TK’s. That first press sends a spark shooting down his spine but Carlos doesn’t hurry or balk at the sensation. He relishes in the slight shiver that runs through TK, the small intake of breath, happy to see that he feels this thrill too. His fingers card gently at the back of TK’s hair, curling around the strands as he continues to kiss him.
TK’s hands encircle his waist, pulling him closer and Carlos is pliant as ever, melding against the man’s frame. The kiss grows gradually, moving from tentative to assured, both guys shedding away any hesitancy and owning the moment.
It’s easy for Carlos to get swept away in kissing TK. His lips are proving themselves to be skilled at more than just offering beautiful smiles.
When TK breaks first, his eyes are still closed and Carlos can’t help but to stare, smiling softly at him when he finally reopens them.
“That’s what playing feels like,” TK says quietly. “An electric rush.”
Carlos’ face burns but TK doesn’t tease him for it. Instead he leans in and kisses Carlos’ cheeks, his forehead, the tip of his nose. This draws out a laugh from Carlos, a note so carefree and unguarded he’s almost surprised it’s ripped from him.
He smiles shyly and rests his forehead against TK’s, settling down and simply breathing him in. His hand finds its way once more to the nape of TK’s neck, skimming his fingertips lightly against his scalp. TK seems to appreciate the subtle touch, his eyes fluttering briefly. It’s almost hard for Carlos to wrap his mind around the fact that he’s capable of any real effect on TK and yet, the proof is laid out right before him.
All these weeks of getting to know him as more than just the cute guy in a shared class or the talented performer who frequents open mic nights. All these weeks of truly getting to know him and falling even more, they haven’t been one-sided.
“I see why you like performing so much now. I could get used to this feeling.”
TK laughs and places another kiss on his lips. It takes everything in Carlos not to get too carried away but it’s certainly tempting. TK, a musician through and through, knows what to do with his hands. Placement and timing, as he said before.
He’s able to draw out sounds from Carlos like any of his instruments, a sigh, a moan, a whimper. Carlos’ lips feel swollen by the time they break apart for good, his head in a fog.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks now,” TK says.
“Yeah?”
TK rolls his eyes jokingly. “You know, I don’t usually go around serenading guys at open mic nights, right?”
“So, that really was for me then?”
“You thought I was singing that about some other guy? Seriously?”
Carlos shrugs a shoulder, looking down until TK lifts his chin gently. He stares into his blue-green eyes and finds the confidence to keep going.
“It felt too good to be true that you may have been dedicating it to me. I thought—I mean, I’ve been hoping but was too scared to ask. In case you aren’t aware, you’re a very attractive and ridiculously talented guy, TK. You could have your pick of anyone.”
“Just like you could. Easily, Carlos. You’re such a catch. I’ve spent weeks hoping you liked me back. I was out of my mind nervous up there. It seemed like a great idea beforehand but actually being on stage and seeing you watching me? I almost chickened out but I knew my friends wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I did. And, honestly? I wanted to get my feelings for you out there somehow. Music is always my fallback so, seemed like the best bet.”
Carlos shakes his head and draws in a deep breath, letting it out in a gust.
“It was beautiful, TK. Absolutely beautiful. No one has ever done anything like that for me.”
TK gives him a small smile, looking down and playing with Carlos’ hand. “Since we met, I’ve just wanted to matter to you. Is that weird to say?” he asks, pulling his gaze upward.
Carlos shakes his head. “No, not at all. I actually liked you before we even met,” Carlos admits. “You’ve always been someone to me, TK. Never doubt that because I get the feeling that you always will be.”
TK searches his eyes, relief flooding his features before he leans in and kisses him again. Carlos serves it right back, pulling TK against him as he sinks back against the man’s bed. It’s light, it’s playful with soft laughter and even softer kisses. It’s safe and comfortable to hand this vulnerable side over and trust it will be protected.
All in all, Carlos finds, it’s simply natural to be this way, to fall for this beautiful boy and his beautiful music that makes him feel like a work of art to TK in his own right.
#tarlos#carlos reyes#tk strand#911 lone star#tarlos fic#ronenrubinstein#userjilly#userthai#useralie#userbones#userjillian#tuserjamie#usermaximus#reyeslonestartag#kimmy writes
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And Stuff
AN: When you decided on a life of academia, you’d never expected to meet someone like Spencer Reid
Characters: Spencer Reid
Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol
------------------
You hated this stupid paper, you really really did. You stared blankly at your screen, reading and rereading the same two paragraphs in the vain hope that something would stick, but it was all gibberish.
“Hey, there’s my favorite PhD student,” a familiar voice called, collapsing into the seat beside you, “coffee?”
“Please,” you sighed gratefully, wrapping your hands around the disposable cup and taking a deep sip. It was perfect, just warm enough to shock some life back into you, “I owe you one, Prof. Reid.”
Spencer wrinkled his nose distastefully, and you laughed.
“I told you I hate that,” he said.
“And we both know that’s a lie,” you teased back, “you love being called Professor.”
“By my students,” he admitted, “not by you. How’s the thesis outline coming along?”
You sighed, “it’s not.”
“Can I take a look?” Spencer asked, reaching out towards you.
“Noooooo way,” you said, closing your laptop quickly, “not until it’s done.”
“But, Y/N-“
“No, Spence! It’s terrible.”
Spencer stuck his tongue out at you but didn’t press the issue as he pulled a stack of unmarked essays out of his satchel. You and Spencer had met a few years ago, when you’d both started a BA in philosophy. It was your third undergraduate degree, but like Spencer’s hundredth, and you’d bonded over your love of academia almost instantly. By now, meeting in one of the common areas to study and work together was almost a ritual, twice a week at least, every week of the semester. You loved it, you relied on it really. Without Spencer you were sure you’d have lost your mind years ago.
Spencer couldn’t always stay long, after all he was still a hot shot FBI agent, but even just the little bit of time you did have together was like a breath of fresh air. You both looked forward to the chance to talk about something other than your jobs for once.
“I’m sure it’s not, Y/N/N,” Spencer assured.
“Mhhm,” you said unconvincingly, “what about you? Did you get your epistemology paper in on time?”
“Oh yeah. I’m not sure anything I wrote technically qualifies as an argument, but it’s done.” Spencer replied, his eyes tracing the papers in front of him at lightning speed and marking as he went
You could see the signs of exhaustion on his face and your stomach pinched with concern. Spencer was a genius, you knew that better than anyone, but even he wasn’t immune to the stresses of university life. He was always burning the candle at both ends, taking on more than any reasonable person could ever hope to accomplish, and that was before he started teaching an intro to criminology class. It worried you.
“Spence?”
He looked up, his eyes still glassy and faraway, the hint of a smile on his lips, “Mmhmm?”
You frowned, “Are you okay? You look exhausted.”
Spencer nodded, “Did you know that some studies have shown that an adult man can actually survive on as little as two hours of sleep a night without showing outwards signs of exhaustion?” He rambled, gesturing at nothing with his hands, “Sleep deprivation will, of course, affect your mental capabilities over time, but the amount of time that process actually takes is fairly individual. In my case-“ he looked over, noticed you raising your eyebrows at him, and laughed, obviously realising just how tired he was. “Yeah I’m a little tired,” he admitted, “it’s just been a long week that’s all. I was up for a few days for a case,,” he nudged your shoulder with his, “you know if you took me up on my offer I’d probably have more time to sleep.”
“Me? Join the FBI?” You scoffed, shaking your head, “No way. I’ve never even held a gun.”
“Neither had I before I joined.”
“Yeah but you’re-“ you gestured in his general direction, “you know.”
“I’m what?”
“You know,” you huffed, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment, “strong. And brave. And stuff.”
Spencer laughed but he looked pleased with himself nonetheless, “you think I’m strong and brave?”
“And stuff,” you clarified, “I’m an academic. I’m perfectly happy in a dark room with my dusty books and manuscripts, thank you very much.”
Spencer nodded, stealing a sip of your coffee and grimacing at the taste, “is there any sugar in this at all?”
“You tell me,” You answered, “you bought it.”
“Well there’s obviously not enough, you can still taste the actual coffee,” he said, just as his phone started to beep frantically.
Spencer took it out of his pocket and frowned at the screen. Your heart sunk a little but, when Spencer looked up at you apologetically, you shot him a small smile.
“Duty calls,” you said simply.
Spencer nodded, packing his stack of papers back into his satchel, “I’m sorry, Y/N/N. I’ll see you back here on Friday?”
“Sure,” you agreed, “if you’re back by then.”
“And you’ll send me your thesis outline when you’re finished with it?”
“Of course.”
Spencer wrapped one arm around your shoulder, giving you a quick hug, “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Enjoy your day.”
“Good luck, Professor,” you smiled, waving him off, “and thanks for the coffee!”
He waved back at you, half jogging and already on the phone as he vanished into the incoming crowds. You watched him go, sighing sadly as you turned back to your unfinished outline.
“Okay, Y/N, you can do this. Spencer’s written like three of these, let’s go.” You muttered, “The psychological implications of linguistic progression, think.”
You threw yourself back into your research, losing yourself in the methodical nature of your work. The coffee next to you got cold.
————————
Spencer was flushed by the time he made it into the office, his cheeks hurting with the effort of suppressing his smile. Time with you always did that to him, no matter how drained he was when he first arrived.
You were like a ray of sunshine on an otherwise very gloomy day, and ten minutes with you was better for his mental health than a whole weekend’s worth of sleep. You were sweet, and funny, and you let him ramble about whatever he wanted to and even pretended to listen. Meeting you for coffee every week had become more than an act of friendship, it was an act of self care, a thin thread holding what was left of his sanity together.
His phone chimed and he smiled down at the message, a picture of you sipping your coffee and giving the cameras a big thumbs up:
Go kick some bad guy ass, Wise Guy!
He started typing up a reply but, before he could, someone interrupted.
“Good date, Pretty Boy?” Morgan greeted.
“It’s not a date, Morgan, you know that,” Spencer replied, fondly, “it’s just coffee with a friend.”
“Oh yeah it’s totally not a date, just a biweekly coffee hangout with someone you’ve been in love with since forever.”
“Yeah, exactly,” he smiled.
“But it did go well, then?” He retorted with a knowing smile.
Spencer smiled and nodded, “She thinks I’m strong and brave and stuff.”
“And stuff?”
“And stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?” Prentiss interjected.
Spencer froze, “I don’t know, I hadn’t thought about that.”
“Does she know you’re not dating?” Prentiss asked.
“What? Yes of course! Or-maybe? I don’t know we haven’t exactly talked about it.” Spencer replied.
“No, she doesn’t know,” Morgan clarified.
Spencer opened his mouth to argue but, before he could, Garcia cut in.
“Okay my little geniuses, it’s a weird one today. Let’s get briefed,” Garcia called.
“When do we get to meet her?” Prentiss whispered as they took their seats.
“Never,” Spencer replied.
Emily pouted, “you’re no fun.”
Spencer smiled but, as the briefing went on and the picture of their newest case got clearer and clearer, so did something else; they couldn’t do this alone. They needed help, very very specific help. His heart sunk. As they headed to the jet, Spencer pulled out his phone, wishing to God he didn’t have to.
“Hey, Y/N, remember how you said you owed me one?”
—————————-
This had to be some sort of nightmare, you thought to yourself as you stepped off the jet. When Spencer had first called you, you’d laughed, told him to stop joking around and tell you what he actually wanted but, as it turned out, he was serious. They had a case, he’d said, one that required a certain set of expertise, one that only you had. And you couldn’t really say no could you? Not to Spencer.
And now you’d solved it. It was over. Your hands were shaking and you’d never been this tired in your life, but it was over. You felt a hand on your shoulder and jumped.
“Hey, it’s alright, kid,” Derek Morgan assured you, “you’re okay.”
You nodded, even though it wasn’t a question and gave him a small smile.
“I know.”
Derek nodded, his dark eyes boring into you in that way only members of the BAU could, like they were looking into you and not at you, so you tried to look brave.
“You did good work on this case,” Derek said, walking back to the building with you, “without you I’m not sure we would’ve caught the guy.”
You shook your head, “Spen-Reid would have figured it out eventually.”
Derek pressed his lips together, “Probably, but even he said it would’ve taken him days to reconstruct the language from scratch, even without adding the psychology behind it. In that time who knows how many people our UnSub would have been able to get.”
You looked over your shoulder to where Spencer was standing at the base of the jet’s stairs, looking everywhere but at you. He’d been acting distant for a while now, ever since Hotch had decided to strap you into a bulletproof vest and send you in to talk a maniac off a ledge. The UnSub had been having some sort of psychotic break, he’d forgotten how to speak English and communicated exclusively in a language he’d created himself, a combination of several that pointed to details about his personal life. It was fascinating, in the worst way possible, a real life application of the theory you’d been working on for years. It would make your thesis a piece of cake to finish.
The thought made you feel nauseous.
“Is he-“ you asked Derek, pressing your lips together nervously, “is he angry at me or something?”
He frowned, “Reid? No. He’s crazy about you, he looks forward to those coffee dates with you every week for days.”
You flushed, “They're not dates, Derek.”
“Oh yeah, sorry,” he replied, sarcastically, “slip of the tongue.” He ruffled your hair fondly, “Go on, talk to him, I’ll call you a cab when you’re done.”
You nodded and hung back, letting Derek’s hulking form vanish into the FBI building as you made your way slowly back toward the jet. Spencer was staring up at the moon, looking pensive and beautiful and painfully sad.
“Hey, there’s my favorite profiler,” you greeted gently, “you alright?”
“Hey,” he replied, still looking up at the moon, “why didn’t you go inside with everyone else?”
“I was waiting for you,” you explained, “I wanted to see if you’re okay.”
“If I’m okay?” He laughed incredulously, meeting your eye, “Y/N, I’m out here because I’m trying to figure out what I could possibly say to make up for what I just put you through.” He explained, “This...this stuff-it’s my world, not yours. I should never have brought you into it.”
“Spencer you needed me, your team needed an expert and, no offense, but your social circle isn’t big enough to have two experts in linguistic psychology.” You teased gently.
Spencer chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest.
You stepped forward, resting a hand gently on his bicep, “You made the right decision, Spence. I’m glad you called, I’m-“ you paused, “I’m glad you let me help you.”
Spencer snorted, “And it nearly got you killed.”
“It didn’t nearly get me killed-“
“Yes. It did,” he insisted, “the UnSub was psychotic, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t have killed you on sight. Hotch should never have let you-I should never have let you go in there.”
“But I wanted to and I’m fine. The case is over, Spence, we’re in the clear.” You assured him, “Things can go back to normal now.”
“No, they can’t!” Spencer practically shouted, turning to face you, his eyes red and puffy. You instinctively stepped back and Spencer pressed his lips together, looking guilty, “Y/N, I-knowing you were in danger and that there was nothing I could do about it...it killed me. You were never meant to know about any of this, you were meant to be safe! I was meant to keep you safe!” He explained, running a hand through his hair, “You were the one thing in my life that this stuff couldn’t touch and now-“ he breathed, “now everytime you look at me you’re gonna think about this, and him, and everything I put you through and-“ he met your eye, “and things will be weird and you’ll stop wanting to talk to me. Things won’t be the same, Y/N.”
You flushed and stepped forward, “You're worried that I’m not gonna talk to you anymore?” You asked. Spencer didn’t answer, but the way he avoided your eye and worked his jaw seemed like answer enough, “Spence,” you smiled, “you’re like...my favorite person in the world. This stuff,” you gestured around, “what you do, it doesn’t change that. In fact I think it’s kind of incredible. You guys tracked down a serial killer based on nothing but some muddled letters, who does that?” You laughed.
Spencer didn’t respond, but the edges of his lips twitched, like he wanted to smile. You watched him for a moment, the way he held his head, the way his eyes darted up to yours. He was just as beautiful as he’d always been, but there was something more now. He was vulnerable, you realized, really vulnerable for the first time since you’d known him. No matter what he said, Spencer was reaching out to you.
“Your world is messed up, Spencer,” you continued, stepping forward and taking his hand, “but you aren’t. We aren’t, and I’m glad I got to be there when you needed me. We’re good, okay?”
“Do you promise?” He asked, his voice small.
You squeezed his hand, “I promise.”
Spencer nodded, squeezing back, and let you slowly pull him back towards the FBI building.
“Besides,” you continued, “you still owe me a look at my thesis.”
Spencer snorted, “That’ll literally take me 3 seconds.”
“Show off.”
“What? It’s true.” He laughed.
You suddenly realized that Spencer was still holding your hand and, when he saw you looking and tried to pull away, you held on tighter. Spencer smiled nervously, and you felt a rush of something warm and promising flow through you.
“Hey, Y/N?” He started nervously.
“Yes, Spencer?”
“Are we dating?” He asked.
“After today? We’d better be. I’m expecting at least a dinner after almost getting shot for you.” You teased, bumping his shoulder with yours.
“That’s so not funny,” Spencer replied, but he was smiling when he said it.
“It’s a little bit funny.”
“Fine,” Spencer agreed, stopping in his tracks and pulling you towards him, “it’s a little bit funny.”
And that’s when he pulled you in, cupping your face with his hands and pressing his lips to yours. Just like that, the weariness of the day melted away, disappearing into a kiss that tasted like burnt coffee and sugar and the best champagne you’d ever had. Spencer was strong and sure. He kissed you like it was the only chance he’d ever get, like he wanted to burn the memory of you into that brilliant mind of his forever. When you broke apart it felt like the earth had shifted beneath you and you stared at one another, breathless and smiling like teenagers caught making out beneath the bleachers.
“Oh yeah,” you laughed, “yeah you definitely owe me dinner.”
“Woohoo!” Morgan cheered.
“Ooooo, Y/N and Reid sitting in a tree,” Prentiss sang, “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”
“Go get ‘em, Lover Boy,” Garcia joined in.
Spencer laughed, letting his head fall down onto your shoulder, humming when you threaded your finger through his hair.
“Can we-um-can we maybe continue this at a later date?” Spencer asked, “Like maybe at dinner? Or,” he checked his watch, “breakfast, maybe?”
You looked back at Spencer’s team and felt, with a sudden rush of clarity, that you were looking at a group of people who would soon be staples of your life.
“Let’s go get coffee with the others,” you answered, “and then after that,” you tilted his head up and kissed him softly, “you can take me to breakfast.”
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#jordsie#jordsie writes#criminal minds#criminal minds headcanons#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid headcanons#matthew gray gubler x reader#matthew gray gubler imagine#matthew gray gubler x you#matthew gray gubler
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Queen live at Elland Road in Leeds, UK - May 29, 1982 (Part-2)
Fan Stories
“We got a coach from my home town (about 2 hours from memory) and drank an ocean of lager on the way, by the time we got there we needed the toilet so badly we could have exploded! We got into the stadium and waited for the first band of the day. Soon enough a not very well known (to me) American band came on called Heart. They weren't bad but did nothing for me. Then came The Teardrop Explodes who tried and who I reckoned did quite well despite the flying bottles of liquid being hurled at them from the crowd. After them was Joan Jett complete with Blackhearts who got the crowd going with "I Love Rock'n'Roll" mainly because Brian appeared at the side of the stage with his daughter to have a look. Eventually after a long wait the stage lights dimmed and a strange cranking sound started up and then you were suddenly aware of the drum beat to Flash thumping out and spotlights chasing around the stadium. This went on for a minute or so and the excitement was unbearable. All of a sudden in an explosion of smoke, lights, guitars, drums... Brian, John and Roger are there blasting out the opening part of The Hero. Seconds later in a gleaming white leather jacket out runs Freddie and it begins... A moment I will never forget along with many others from Queen shows since and before it. I can't say which show was my favourite as I loved them all but that moment WAS Queen, the sheer power, the anticipation, the fantastic musical ability and above all else the way they gave people what they crave more than anything... wonderful memories.” - whiteman
“29th May 1982 - a really nice warm day. We only lived a few miles away so walked down to Elland Road - I can't believe it - Queen live in my home town at the home of the greatest football team in the country (well maybe not now!). Got to the ground early and were allowed in by security, such a relaxed atmosphere. Saw band's soundcheck - great! So hot sun, never went behind stadium roofs. Got best suntan I have ever had! Heard Teardrop Explodes - not bad. Then you are aware of the beat of flash thumping out around the stadium, the smoke rises and bang - they are on! The greatest gig I have ever seen from the greatest live band in history. God bless you, Brian, Roger and John. Rest in peace, Freddie - we will never forget.” - Michael Quine
“This was my second ever gig, the first being Rory Gallagher the year before (I am sure I once read that Rory was one of Brian May's favourite guitarists). Anyway, being only 14 and not yet in the habit of getting off my face at gigs,I can remember that day very clearly. I am convinced I saw someone throw a hamburger at Julian Cope (Teardrop Explodes were going down like a lead balloon), and just as Julian was opening his gob to sing, he CAUGHT IT IN HIS MOUTH. A huge cheer went up, then they stomped off. Somebody, possibly Queen's manager, came on and told everbody to behave. I also remember a fan getting on stage and Freddie expertly rolling him off the stage. I didnt like the Hot Space album much but was chuffed they were still a hard rock band. I bought the next edition of Kerrang mag and the write up of the gig said STUNNING. Great memory.” - Edwin
“I was 15 years old in 1982 when I attended my first ever concert. Fortunately for me, it was QUEEN's show at Leeds AFC ground in the North of England. I remember when my ticket arrived in the post, possibly 2-3 months before the concert, as was often the case in those days. I stuck my ticket on a cork notice board in my bedroom and could barely contain my excitement over the coming weeks. Every morning, I would wake up and look at the yellow ticket, wishing the days away. I imagined everything that could go wrong would. Queen would cancel the gig, I would break my leg, the family pet would die on the morning of the concert and it would be too insensitive of me to go, the transport wouldn't turn up or would break down, there would be a pile up on the motorway, I'd lose my ticket en route, etc, etc. As it turned out, May 29th 1982 was a hot and sunny day, perfect weather for an outdoor gig. I was CRAZY about Queen and had been since the age of 9 but I really didn't know what to expect on that day. Myself and three friends took a coach organised by my Dad's company from Lancashire across the M62 motorway to Leeds. Our excitement began to really take a hold when we arrived at the football ground and we followed the droves of people towards the turnstiles. To me, this was something on a really big scale and I could already hear the hum of the crowd inside. Not really believing that we were actually about to witness a Queen concert, we found our seats on the West Stand, offering a great view of the stage. I remember marvelling at Queen's new lighting rig and the equipment that adorned the stage, shining in the afternoon sunshine. The ground was almost full at this point and the pitch was heaving with people. The atmosphere was relaxed as people bathed in the sunshine. I remember two guys climbing the fence from the stand and attempting to get a better spot by running into the crowd and losing themselves on the pitch. Their efforts were in vain however as they were quickly located and ejected back into the stand by two security guards. We bought some black Hot Space tour shirts (I wore mine with pride until it literally fell apart) and a programme from a vendor inside the ground and waited for the first band to take the stage. A guy near us shouted and punched his way through Heart's set and then left just as they vacated the stage. Obviously not a Queen fan! The Teardrop Explodes suffered at the hands of the Queen congregation and found themselves battling against a shower of bottles and assorted missiles. Other than that, I don't really remember much about the support bands. I think that Bow Wow Wow were billed to play (an odd choice) but I can't recall if they actually turned up. No matter, we were about to witness what is still one of the best gigs I have ever attended.
As the dusk descended upon us, the giant floodlights were extinguished one by one and the memory of the roar that followed still sends shivers down my spine. Dry ice drifted across the heads of the crowd on the pitch as the intro tape of Flash thumped out of the PA and the strange 'grating' noises added to the recording created a foreboding atmosphere. Two of our party were on the pitch and to this day remember their chests thumping in unison to the powerful rhythm. A sea of hands clapped in perfect time to the beat. To me, this was already an amazing experience. And then the big moment. Freddie, resplendent in dazzling white made his entrance to The Hero and the blaze of the lights. An apt number to start with. Before he had even sung a note, the audience were locked tightly in the palm of his hand. Such an entrance, such a showman. "You're a F***in amazing crowd", he exclaimed after the first rush. The beginning of the gig is, in truth, my strongest memory of the show itself. In particular, the "Flash!!!" vocals cutting through the night air with so much volume. I recall being shocked at the sheer power of Queen's performance and the clarity of the huge sound they harnessed. Morgan Fisher's keyboards during 'Action This Day' sounded bright and hypnotic. Freddie's intro to Fat Bottomed Girls caused quite a response too; "the bigger the t*t the better it is!". I also remember the follow spots darting wildly over the crowd during 'Tie Your Mother Down' and everybody going crazy. Oddly enough (and this is something I still swear by to this day), I was in a Maths lesson at school the following Monday and I swear I had a flashback of this and could actually 'hear' the music being re-played in my head. It was a weird moment and life was never quite the same again. We talked endlessly about our experience for months to come and one of my biggest regrets is not jumping on a train to attend the filmed Milton Keynes show a week later. Having been to so many gigs since, I can honestly say that there is nobody who has been able to top Queen live; I was lucky enough to see the band five times between 1982 and 1986, including Wembley Stadium and their last show at Knebworth. I think that my personal favourite was their performance at the NEC in Birmingham on 'The Works' tour in 1984. People were literally stood there with open mouths, unable to believe how good they were. Leeds is definitely up there too. I recall Brian May stating that he thought it was one of their best performances ever. I can't argue with that Mr May. I've often wondered if an audience shot cine film or even just photographs exist from the Leeds gig. It would be a dream come true to see my memories come to life again.” - Keith Lambert
“I can't believe it was 30 years ago that I attended my first ever gig at Elland Rd Leeds in 1982. I was 17 years old at the time, I was into Queen when I first heard seven seas of rhye, which was so different to all the other stuff around at the time. I'd heard them live on tv, and had Live Killers. Also I used to buy bootleg cassettes of all of their tours from 74 onwards. But nothing could prepare me for that day. They should have played this gig at Old Trafford Manchester, my home town, so I was gutted when the residents opposed it. Tickets were very easy to come by, believe it or not, cos Queen were not seen as a relevant band at that time. Also touring the Hot Space album didn't seem to excite anybody. So, Billy no mates had to go on his own, haha. My memory is a bit hazy, but I will try my best. I got to the ground about 1pm, and was lucky enough to have a pitch ticket. I got right to the front, well about 10 yards from the stage, slightly off centre and to the right. If I told you I never moved from that spot all day and never spoke to anyone, would you believe me? One of the reasons for this is the rivalry between Manchester and Leeds, also I was only a kid, haha. Not sure who was first on, probably Teardrop Explodes, Julian Cope, I remember while they were throwing bottles at him, picked one up and started hitting himself with it and stretching his arms out saying he was an Argentinian bomber or something. It was during the Falklands war, remember. Then Heart came on, not really my cup of tea, and I had a lie down on the tarpaulin and tried to go to sleep. Then Joan Jett, who was better than the rest, but not really exciting. During the band changes, I remember the roadies polishing Roger's drum kit and climbing up ropes and those threepronged lights, which before I saw them move I thought they were cameras. Queen took ages to come on. From my recollection and I might be wrong, they didn't come on until 10pm and went off around Midnight. I heard later that they got fined so much per minute for being late on stage but they wanted to wait until it was dark for the lighting rig to take effect. If you watch the Bowl DVD you will notice it was light when they came on stage there. But that was being filmed by Channel 4. But it was absolutely pitch black when they came on stage at Leeds. Then the floodlights went off, smoke started to appear and strange noises started, which I can't describe, sorry. Then Flash's Theme started, it was loud, very, very loud. I knew they were supposed to be loud and this was the part that scared me. The ground was thumping, the bass just pumping away. The these 'cameras' flicked into life, with men on them. The intro seemed to last for a very long time. Then BANG Brian appears with the first chord of The Hero and a flash of the biggest white light I've ever seen and will never forget and the absolute loudest noise I have ever heard just hit me. The intro was quite in comparrision to this. When I play Live at the Bowl, I tend to repeat the intro and The Hero, virtually every time, because it was definitely a life changing experience for me at that moment, just incredible. Then Freddie appeared in brilliant white again, I was that close, I swear His hair seemed blue because of the mass of white lights. His voice, so loud, so clear, honestly, I can't describe that moment properly. I heard Freddie swear, saw Roger spitting, quite a lot, over his drum kit and onto the stage, I was bewildered.
When they did Play The Game and also Somebody To Love, when Freddie was doing the intros for them and it will sound strange to those that weren't there, but I didn't know what the songs were. I thought they was new unreleased songs. The reason was they was so loud, It kind of deafened you and then kind of sunk in what they were about to play. Then the rest of the gig flew by and I was singing my head off. Everyone was, but you could only hear Queen. Again my memory may be wrong, but I read afterwards that Queen had paid for residents to move out of their homes for the day. These houses were monitored and they said that the sound was like Concorde flying 10 feet over your head... Yep I will buy that. For all that and for all the bad things said about it, The Works tour, which I went to all the 4 origional England gigs they had planned, was the best tour they ever did. The set list was fantastic and the lighting rig was incredible. Not as loud, I also add. I also saw them in Manchester, 86. They had to be off stage by 10pm and noise levels had to be adhered to. I was too far awy to see them and the screens didn't come on because it was too light. Also I couldn't here them properly. I've watched the mMagic Tour gigs on DVD etc, but for me, that was the poorest tour they ever did. So that's it, hopefully some of you can confirm my bad memory, or say I'm wrong. Hopefully not bored you all. But it was the greatest musical experience I ever witnessed and I am proud I was there.” - Paul Wakefield
Part-1
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