#aw I missed pi day to reblog this

[reki-of-the-valley]

À la requête de ma grande sœur adorée 💛 j'ai encore pas fait ce que tu voulais, comme d'habitude 😘 SO HERE'S SOME CURSED FRANCOPHONE LANGA AU FLUFF FOR EVERYONE TO ENJOY EXCEPT ME!

As usual, translations will be provided in a reblog

---

"Langa... I'm freezing out here! Can't we go in or something?"

Langa blinked at the boy. It was only November and he was dressed like it was the middle of winter: a thick hoodie under his coat and thick wooly socks in his boots. His hands were stuffed deep in his pockets and all he seemed to be missing was a hat and a scarf. Just looking at him Langa felt overheated despite not having a coat of his own. There was no snow yet so a simple long sleeve shirt would suffice for him.

"You... Really don't like the cold, do you?"

"It's not that I don't like it! I'm just... Not all of us are cold blooded Canadians like you! I mean, look around, man! Everyone's got coats except you!"

"It's really not that cold, Reki."

"Can we just go in before my fingers break off?"

Langa sighed as he nodded. He might not have been cold but he wouldn't say no going inside. There were always too many people walking around the downtown streets, from hurried workers to starry eyed tourists. Another thing Langa never understood: why would anyone be impressed by a university campus? It really didn't have anything special except maybe the hoards of students that flocked to the grassy area to study while the weather still permitted it. That was a little impressive.

Reki's hand left his pocket to brush against Langa's. Instinctively, their fingers intertwined, Reki's warm palm against Langa's naturally freezing hands.

"Aw, shit, dude! Your hand is freezing! What are you? A vampire?"

Langa snorted as he glanced back at the boy. "You wish."

Reki stopped dead in his tracks, causing Langa to stumble back. He shook his head as his fingers tightened around Langa who couldn't help but chuckle at the wide amber eyes staring at him. Reki's distaste for the supernatural had always amused Langa.

"Nuh-huh! No way! No monsters! I like my boyfriends very human, thank you very much!"

"Well, lucky for you I'm very much a human. Just, maybe dead inside."

"Class is that bad?"

"You can't even imagine. My professor wants-"

Langa fell quiet as he stared at Reki. He furrowed his brow as he bit the inside of his cheek.

"What?"

"Word. Merde, c'est quoi le mot? You know quand tu dois faire une recherche, mais avec plusieurs disciplines? Like, when tu prends de la psycho, pis un article en socio, pis un en éducation pour faire une recherche à propos de, I don't know, les effets de la télé sur les enfants de moins de cinq ans. Genre, inter... Interdisciplinaire? C'est tu ça? Would make sense if it's that."

"Langa, babe," Reki's eyes were kind as he gave Langa's hand a squeeze. He was so sweet, so kind, at least until exasperation became clear in his big eyes and pointed tone. "I didn't understand a single word you just said. That's honestly worse than your shitty, broken Japanese. So can you please speak English to me?"

"Never mind, it's... It's not important. Let's just go back to my dorm. You said you were cold."

Reki complied as Langa pulled him along, making his way to his building. He even laughed a little as he caught up, pulling Langa's hand into his coat pocket. And with Reki pressed against him, Langa wondered how the boy could be cold when he was so warm to touch. Reki was a walking, talking radiator.

"You just don't want to translate, do you?"

Langa didn't answer. He simply continued going forward because answering meant he would be admitting to his hatred of translation. And admitting to being bad at something, well... Langa much preferred ignoring the problem or hoping that some day, he became magically good at translations of his own incoherent thoughts.

Reki shook from all over the moment they stepped into the building. His hand slipped away from Langa's to be shaken back to life; he hopped around to get his blood circulating once more. He shook and he moved until he was warm enough to be back next to Langa, following him to the elevator. While they could have taken the stairs, Langa definitely did not have the energy to climb up to the 11th floor on his own.

The hall that lead to his dorm was eerily quiet for a Wednesday afternoon. There was no chatter that seeped through the paper thin walls of the old building. No laughter or sobs indicated the presence of anyone. The only sound that resonates through the hall was his and Reki's footsteps against the old linoleum flooring.

Without a word, they both slipped into Langa's dorm, a small room with nothing that could betray the person that Langa was. The walls were bare except for the textbooks he had set up on a suspended shelf over his desk. Nothing stood out, a twin sized bed pushed against the wall with a desk next to it. Even the window had no view, the big glass panel giving on a brick wall. Really, it was a terrible dorm, but it was what he could afford and it was right next to campus, so who was he to complain?

Reki pulled off his boots, neatly placing them by the door before taking off his coat and tossing it onto Langa's desk chair. He rubbed his hands together before blowing into them, red skin like his cheeks. Langa didn't even have to touch to know that his face was that mixture of burning heat and excessive cold, a frozen nose and some warm, blushed cheeks.

"I'm still freezing, man. Don't you have a heater in here or something?"

Langa shook his head. "Broken and I wouldn't count on anyone to fix it. But," a smile pulled at the corners of Langa's mouth as he took Reki's hands in his and guided him to the bed. Both tumbled into the mattress, Langa pulling his blanket over Reki who simply nuzzled his neck, getting comfortable on top of him. "This should do the trick."

They basked in the silence for a moment, a moment to get comfortable against one another, but silence never lasted. Silence wasn't at home between the two, always small sounds escaping Reki, be it giggles or actual words. Silence wasn't at home when Reki was there because to Langa, Reki was home. Reki and his beautiful chatter had Langa feeling happy and safe.

"Langa? Can you talk French again?"

Langa blinked as the boy tilted his head up to look at him. French? Reki wanted him to speak French, voluntarily? He only ever did slip into the language when he felt lost or when he was surrounded by French speaking people. So having Reki ask him to do it purposely, well...

"But you don't understand?"

"Doesn't matter. I just... I like it when you talk French. I don't have to understand the words because... Unless you're actually going on about something and expecting real answers, I don't have to understand the words to understand you. It's... It's in your tone, I think. And it's just calming, dude. I like listening to you."

Langa felt his heart squeeze in his chest as Reki smiled at him. Sweet, beautiful Reki was asking him to speak. Sweet, beautiful Reki was asking him to slip into a language that felt so natural and unnatural to him all at once. Sweet, beautiful Reki wanted to hear his French because he liked it. He liked listening to Langa.

"I... Okay. Uh..." What was he supposed to say? Langa never knew what to say unless asked a question directly. He had always rather be quiet than speak up; it was just easier that way. "J'aime ton rire. J'aime comment tu ris aux trucs les plus ridicules, mais genre ridicule to the point où c'est même plus drôle, mais toi tu trouves ça quand même drôle. Tu trouve juste toujours de la joie dans tout et... Et I like that of you. It's cute how-"

"French, Langa. With your cute voice."

"Right, right, uhm, j'aime ta joie. T'es toujours tellement content pis c'est juste... I don't know. C'est juste que je t'aime. Je t'aime de tout mon coeur. Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime, mon amour. Et je t'aimerai toujours. Même si tu m'aimes plus, je t'aimerais quand même. Parce que tu es ma joie, Reki. Mon bonheur. Je t'aime. Infiniment."

Reki snuggled closer, his nose pressed to the soft skin of Langa's jaw. He pressed closer, legs tangling as his arms wrapped around Langa. He pressed closer as he spoke back to Langa in his native Japanese.

Despite not being fully fluent in Japanese, Langa knew what Reki was saying. He wouldn't be able to repeat the words, but he knew what they meant, the same way Reki had known what Langa had been saying to him in French. It was in the tone, in the touches, in the sweet whispers against his skin. I love you. No matter the language, they were words that always found a way through. They were words that the heart always knew.

[hermits-that-craft]

In My Dreams (Will You Remember Me?)

Flower Husbands Fic - Chapter Nine - I’ll Keep Him Safe From The Dark Things That Wait

AO3 and Trigger Warnings in reblogs.

“Goodmorning Fwip!” Jimmy says, landing on the path outside of the Grimland city. Fwip smiles at Jimmy, his red goggles over his eyes. “How are you?”

“I’m doing great, Jimmy.” Fwip says, smiling. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” Jimmy replies, taking off his elytra. “So, trade deals?”

“Right.” Fwip laughs. “I forgot that’s why you’re here. I’ll be honest, I thought I would be giving you a tour of Grimlands.”

“I’d love a tour.” Jimmy smiles under his mask. Fwip lights up at that, smiling wider, less sheepish than only a few moments ago. “We can always discuss trade deals afterwards.”

“Speaking of which,” Fwip opens the gates for Jimmy, inviting him into his empire. “Did you have any ideas of what you would like?”

“Honestly, my advisors told me to go for an equal amount of gunpowder.” Jimmy responds, ducking through the gates. “But we can iron this out later.”

Jimmy whistles as he straightens up. The Grimlands are magnificent. People rush around the city, bumping into people and walking faster than Jimmy thought people would have any reason to. The city is filled with life, storefronts lit up with people looking around inside. Children in neat uniforms dash down the streets with their friends.

The city is lively, but there’s no street vendors. No people busking in the morning light, no one selling fresh fruit and freshly cooked pies on the intersections. People race down the streets, but no one stops. No one talks to each other, save for teenagers hurrying not to miss their first classes. The city is full of life, but does that life disappear with the end of the morning rush?

“You gonna move, or are you just going to stay there and gawk?” Fwip asks, leaning against a light post.

“It’s so busy.” Jimmy says, moving to avoid bumping into a woman in a suit. 

“Oh, don’t worry. It practically empties in fifteen minutes.” Fwip smiles, something dangerous flashing in his eyes. He hasn’t removed his goggles yet, even though its not that sunny. “After we get something to eat, the streets will be ours.”

“I ate before I came.” Jimmy says quietly, trying to avoid taking his cod head off around Fwip. 

“Aw, that sucks.” Fwip pouts. “I booked us in to eat at my favourite cafe.”

“I suppose I could get something small.” Jimmy winces, trying not to offend the other ruler. “As long as I don’t have to remove my mask!”

“Don’t worry, you won’t lose your head.” Fwip laughs, leading Jimmy though the city. The houses tower over the pedestrians, the streets narrowing and winding until Jimmy’s head is spinning.

“Can we slow down, Fwip?” Jimmy asks, trying to keep up with his guide.

“If we slow down the crowd will separate us, just try to keep up!” Fwip grabs Jimmy’s hand, pulling him along down the street. The streets blur together, sharp corners and large courtyards and narrow streets and large crossroads make Jimmy’s head spin. Will his empire become like this, after he’s dead?

He wouldn’t be able to recognise it.

Fwip pulls him through the open door of a small, homely cafe. A tabby cat stretches in the sun yawning as a young woman sweeps the floor with an old wooden broom. There’s plants stretching over every inch of spare space, including the ceiling beams and the edges of paintings that litter the walls. An elderly woman sings to herself as she washes some plates, soapy water barely remaining in the tub. A young man, his hair tied into a neat bun, smiles at the two emperors with a smile that screams home. Like Jimmy’s come home, even though he’s never been in this shop before. It’s…

It’s nice.

“Welcome to The Rockrose and the Thistle cafe, how can I help you?” The man asks, a kind smile on his face.

“Hey Iorro, could I have my regular?”

“Of course, Lord Flynn.” The man smiles, wider than before, and Jimmy can feel his heart begin to race. “And for you, honoured guest?”

“A hot chocolate and something small?” Jimmy asks, and Fwip gives him a nod, almost thankful.

“Could I have a name to go with that?” 

“You can refer to me as Jacob, but you can’t have my name.” Jimmy says smoothly, and Iorro laughs, tilting his head back.

“You’re observant, it took Lexi hitting me to stop me from taking our lovely king’s name.” Iorro says, and the young woman stops her sweeping.

“Iorro, if you touch these men’s food, I swear-” She laughs. “It’s a pleasure to have you both, I hope you enjoy your meals. I’ll handle the cooking. Iorro, swap with me.”

The fae man - who’s tall, taller than Jimmy thought he was, towering over Jimmy - takes the broom off of Lexi before he starts to sweep. 

Fwip leads Jimmy into a side room, one that forgoes the plants for window seats and a small block of deepslate redstone. Jimmy takes the seat closest to the window, watching as the people outside of the cafe mill about, laughing inaudibly and racing to the next place. The crowds slowly dissipate as he watches, and Fwip laughs.

“Not many cafes in the Cod Empire?” Fwip asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“None like this.” Jimmy admits. “This place is something else.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Good.” Jimmy says, as the door creaks open. “Definately good.”

“Coffee with three shots of espresso?” The elderly woman asks.

“Thats mine.” Fwip says, smiling. “Thank you.”

“Are you trying to give yourself a heart attack?” Jimmy asks incredulously.

“Don’t try to talk him out of it, boy.” The woman says. “He’s been ordering this for years. At this point it’s the only thing keeping him awake. I assume you have the hot chocolate?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.” Jimmy says, and the lady laughs.

“What would be more lovely is if you talk this man out of drinking that every morning.” The lady deposits their drinks in front of them, steam swirling out of the cups. “Have a good day, emperors.”

The woman walks out of the room, and Jimmy looks down at his drink. A small cod is made in the foam art that floats on the top of the drink, and Jimmy coos. Lexi drops off two sandwiches to the table, which Fwip takes with a smile.

“Jimmy, they gave me your marshmallows.” Fwip says, holding out two towards Jimmy. “You want them.”

“I’m not five, Fwip.” Jimmy says. “Of course I want the marshmallows.” Fwip drops them into Jimmy’s drink, and Jimmy laughs as Fwip hisses at the splash from the hot milk.

“Don’t laugh at me, that hurt.”

“What did you expect?” Jimmy says, taking a sip of the hot chocolate. “Wow, this is really sweet.”

“They must like you.” Fwip says. “Cause my coffee’s burnt.”

“That sucks.” Jimmy offers, downing the rest of his drink. The sweetness is strange - the marshmallows must have had extra sweetener, normal hot chocolates aren’t this saccharine.

“You ready to leave now?” Fwip asks, standing up.

“Sure.” Jimmy stumbles a bit as he stands, btu he lets Fwip lead him out of the cafe.

They walk through the empty city for a while, the silence overwhelming. Jimmy wants to say something, to break the awkward silence that threatens their every step, but he can’t. He knows the words he wants to say, but they get lodged in his throat and twist around his tongue, like a vine is creeping up and strangling him.

Fwip leads him into an alleyway, one too small to be of any use besides a shortcut, but the only place it leads to is the wall. Jimmy sways a bit, turning to face Fwip. This isn’t where they’re supposed to be.

Blink.

Fwip smiles.

Blink.

Sausage laughs in the distance.

Blink.

Jimmy’s swaying. He can’t stand up for much longer.

Blink.

Fwip takes off his goggles.

Blink.

Jimmy’s on the floor now.

Blink.

Fwip’s eyes are as red as Joey or Sausage's eyes.

Blink.

Blink..

Blink…

---

Jimmy’s head rests on some cold stone. It’s nice, really. He feels so hot, like there’s fire under his skin, burning at his lungs. But it’s also too cold, he’s shivering. Where is he? He was just with Fwip, what happened, did he faint? A breeze passes his face, and his eye slowly opens.

Where is his mask?

Why won’t his other eye open?

“Good morning Jimmy.” Fwip says, leaning against the wall. “Took you long enough to wake up.”

“Where…” Jimmy tries to sit up, finding himself unable to.

At least Dogwarts didn’t get him. I can’t lose him.

“What?” Jimmy mumbles out loud. What is dogwarts?

“Don’t worry, Timmy.” Sausage says, pushing Jimmy’s head back onto the altar. “None of this will hurt, we just need your help.”

“What’s going on?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Sausage kneels down in front of Jimmy, looking into the Codfather’s eyes. “You’re going to meet a friend of ours.”

“He’s already met me before.” A deep, warped voice says, and Jimmy’s heart leaps into his throat. No. Not here. Not now. “He’s much more expressive without the head.”

Jimmy flings himself backwards, putting as much space between him and the demon as possible. Sausage and Fwip laugh, pushing Jimmy towards the altar. Jimmy tries to struggle, but the world spins and-

And there’s blood on the floor. It’s dry, dark brown, but it’s his. His arm hurts. Why didn’t his arm hurt before? Why didn’t he notice he was bleeding? Why did Fwip hurt him?

“So he’s come out of shock.” Xornoth laughs. “Thank you both for collecting him, we truly can hit my brother hard, having something of his.”

“Jimmy isn’t Aeor’s champion?” Sausage asks, and Jimmy blinks.

The gods have never loved him, why would Sausage think one of the elfs would?

“No, he’s the champion's soulmate.” Xornoth laughs, walking up to the trio. “He’s important, not important enough to matter, but important enough to kill.”

“Too scared to kill me yourself?” Jimmy snarks, shaking. He’s not scared, really he isn’t.

He’s been here too many times, in his nightmares, for this to have any effect on him. He’s shaking because he’s cold, not because he’s scared. It’s too hot, but he’s still cold. The blood oozes out of him - will his arm go septic, if he escapes? How will he escape, why was he paying attention to Xornoth he should have focused on escaping.

“Too busy,” Xornoth says. “To bother myself with pest control.”

“Should we sacrifice him?” Sausage asks, and Jimmy stills as he feels the sharp blade of an axe gently tap his neck.

“Wouldn’t it be a shame,” Jimmy closes his eyes, trying to fight back tears as his fate is sealed. “If such a lovely altar wasn’t used.”

SolidarityGaming was sacrificed on the altar by MythicalSausage

[copperbadge]

ijustloveeverythingokay replied to your photoset “I took a long stroll from South Loop to River North today, in part...”

Thanks for sharing �� I’ve been sorely missing seeing the spring gardens pop up around the city, and tulips are my absolute favorite.

My mother’s too! She loves visiting Chicago in the spring because of the flowers on State and on Michigan. Going to Macy’s and spending ten minutes outside of it photographing flowers is one of those “every time we’re in Chicago” things :D 

redsector-a replied to your photoset “I took a long stroll from South Loop to River North today, in part...”

A) Thank you (and your mum!) for the lovely flower pics! B) It's really freaking creepy to see Michigan Ave that quiet (I know earlier in the day you can catch it that way, but still - eeeeeerie).

What’s so interesting to me is that intellectually I absolutely know it’s creepy to be on Michigan at 10am and see it that way, but because I’m so used to early hours, to me it also feels normal. Running that area at 3am, and walking around it on my commute at 7am, it just feels like home. 

rumtastique replied to your photoset “I took a long stroll from South Loop to River North today, in part...”

why on earth did sephora board their windows? that seems like....overkill, or something.

I couldn’t give you the rationale, but they’re far from alone, they’re just the Most Dramatic about it. A lot of the stores that have long glass windows boarded them up; presumably it’s to keep people from breaking in, though if someone is breaking into your shop through a plate-glass window they probably are going to attract a police presence fairly quickly. A lot of stores also boarded up just the doors, so that people couldn’t pick/jiggle/break the lock and get in. 

junker5 replied to your post “I was supposed to be taking my mother to a concert here this weekend. ...”

�� I’m sorry, Sam. I know she misses you.

Well, we had a zoom call yesterday and Dad’s treating her to homemade whoopie pies and bbq today, so I can’t feel too awful for too long. But it is sad, to see the Chicago so shut down like that. 

unholydevilhost reblogged your photo and added:

what a pretty little cat!

Thank you! I love her :) 

digitaldiscipline reblogged your photo and added:

yep, that’s a cat asking for a manager.

Dearborn “Karen” Starbuck. 

noriannbraindripshere replied to your photo “I took a couple of photos of Deebs on the ottoman yesterday, not...”

she looks like she moved so fast it left a light trail :D

Ahahaha yes, good point! Head whips around with a motion blur...

lightwit replied to your photo “It is the ninth of May. THE NINTH. OF MAY. We are TWO MONTHS into...”

This is a common occurrence in Germany, at least, probably most of Europe. Every May around the 11th. We even have a name for it: Eisheilige = Ice Saints. ;)

ICE SAINTS. What a wonderful, blessed phrase. 

delphia2000 replied to your photo “It is the ninth of May. THE NINTH. OF MAY. We are TWO MONTHS into...”

Woke up at 9am to 51 degrees with a high of 61 for today. Congrats on being colder than Alaska!

Last year’s polar vortex we were colder than Mars, so I guess we’re making progress...

[theshinsun]

4, 5, 7, 10, 13, 15, 16, 17, 23, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 33, 36, 39, 40, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 59, 60 [Which do you prefer between Knb and Haikyuu?] for the ask you recently reblogged please?

4. what are you looking forward to?

I'm looking forward to school starting again, even if it's just a weird hybrid of online/flipped classes, I miss my teachers and like, being productive. also if I'm in class I can't be worked borderline inhumane hours right…. right??

5. is there anyone who can always make you smile?

yeah, my roommate. she always either knows how to cheer me up, or blunders around trying to find the right method to the point that it's funny and I end up smiling anyway. she's really awesome like that.

7. what was your life like last year?

it had a lot of ups and downs. I had a great job, but the people I worked with eventually made it toxic and awful. I was doing really well in school, but stressed all the time, had an awesome relationship but kind of ruined it w my anxiety, and had serious roommate issues that made me afraid to leave my bedroom or even come home, sometimes. I remember a lot of very high highs and very low lows especially in the fall/winter of that year.

10. are you good at hiding your feelings?

well, yes and no… I don't tend to show a lot of emotion to begin with, but what I do show, I'm basically incapable of hiding, and apparently I'm a terrible liar bc my face gives me away.

13. how do you feel right now?

I'm pretty alright… kind of anxious, kind of tired, but that's just been the status quo lately tbh. 

15. personality description

already answered, so I suppose I'll elaborate. I'm simultaneously like, the most confident and the most self-doubting person I know... like there are certain things I'm super certain of and times when I feel no shame, and there are others where I'll just shrivel into a ball of anxiety and mortification and never come out. in the same vein, I'm simultaneously very trusting and open and very wary and cautious with people… it really depends on the situation and the person I think, I'm a very "you get out what you put in" person.

16. have you ever wanted to tell someone something but you didn't?

yeah, I’m still holding onto things I’ve wanted to tell certain people tbh… I used to be a lot more forthcoming and not worry about the consequences of what I had to say, but now that I’ve seen what power words have to ruin relationships and impact people I tend to hold back quite a bit. 

17. opinion on insecurities

I have… many, but I understand that I shouldn't and am working on the ones I do have. I think feeling insecure can lead to some of the most ugly, toxic emotions and responses in certain people, so I'm trying to be conscientious of that.

23. fear(s)

um let’s see… jump scares, the dark (sometimes), corners I can’t see around, drowning/suffocating, pain, failure, losing control...

27. things I hate

wet socks, sunburn, acne, willful ignorance, bigotry, excessively negative people… uh… idk hate's a strong word that's all I've got

28. I'll love you if…

if you are genuinely, authentically yourself. if you’re the kind of person I can feel comfortable and at ease with. if you show me patience and compassion and make an effort to know me and let me know you… then yeah you’re never getting rid of me. 

29. favorite film(s)

The Road to El Dorado, Into the Spider-verse, Howl’s Moving Castle, Spirit, Life of Pi, The Truman Show, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

30. favorite tv show(s)

Haikyuu!!, Kuroko no Basuke, Avatar, Bojack Horseman, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Beastars, Dragonball Z

31. 3 random facts

already answered so here's three more

1. lately I've been carrying a fanny pack with the trans flag (there's an unfortunate but very tempting pun in there) and it's still got the security tag bc they forgot to take it off in the store so now every time I walk through the doorway to like, a drug store, I set off the alarm. I would get it taken off but it was sent to me from Chicago lol.

2. I've got a lot of outdoorsy skills bc of my gym class in high school, like rock climbing, kayaking, building fire, etc. I'm not super adventurous in my daily life but while I was in that class, I did all kinds of things.

3. for awhile I worked at a cat cafe, and helped take care of the 12-15 rescue cats we'd have there at any given time. I stand by that it was the best job I've ever had, but the people I worked with, not so much. 

33. something you want to learn

I really want to learn to skateboard or surf. it's been a dream for a long time and I have (suspiciously acquired) both, but my balance is shit and I have no patience for new skills lately, so...

36. 3 dreams you want to fulfill?

already answered so here's three more

1. someday I want to have a pickup truck, I've been looking at, like, bright orange Tacomas and stuff, but of course I'd need a license to be able to drive one

2. I'd like to have a garden again, or maybe have a plot in a community garden. I've been growing nasturtiums and things on my balcony while in school but it's not quite the same

3. still waiting on the day I can get top surgery tbh. I just… want to be able to be shirtless at the beach and wear tank tops with nothing underneath, okay?

39. favorite sport(s)

ahahahaha… favorite sport you say. to play or to watch? 'cause I generally don't like to do either, tho I do like watching the folks who play volleyball on the beach. and considering one of my favorite shows is about volleyball and it was the sport I sucked at the least in school, maybe we’ll go with volleyball? but in general I’m not a sports person. 

40. favorite memory

I have a vague memory… of helping my mom in the garden of my old house when I was a little kid, mostly just digging in the dirt in the spring and being outside with my family… it's not very clear or specific but I think those days were some of the happiest of my life.

52. something I'm talented at

I'm good at learning the lyrics to songs, I've got over 1000 downloaded in my spotify library and I'm pretty sure I know the words to at least most of them. in a similar vein I'm good at learning the scripts to movies, and just… memorizing things in general especially audio.

53. 5 things that make me happy

already answered so here's some more!

1. songs with a light, strummy acoustic feel and creative lyrics… I've got a whole playlist for that vibe there's just something about songs like that that make me really calm

2. I really like being hugged or cuddled by my friends, just being in close proximity and hanging all over each other, makes me all warm and fuzzy inside tbh

3. I love driving with the windows down (I can't drive so I mean riding passenger lol), especially in the canyon by my house, through the forest and by the beach.

54. something that's worrying me at the moment

I’m so afraid things won’t go back to the way they were. ...that applies to multiple aspects of my life, not just with this pandemic but school, work, friends, relationships… it seems like I’m always chasing the past and dreading the future, so much that I can’t ever be satisfied in the present moment, and that’s something that’s been on my mind a lot. 

55. tumblr friends

@hadenxcharm, @spaztictwitch, @kurokonobaka, @taigainside, @hybristophilica and you could be too! all you gotta do is message me tbh I'm easy

56. favorite food(s)

strawberry cheesecake, fried shrimp, key lime pie, tuna steak

59. why I joined tumblr

I joined in 2012 bc my friends told me to, had a brief recession where I didn't use it at all, and a pretty lengthy sidetrack through the RP community, and then I came back bc of the friends I'd made here, and the unique-ness of the platform that I kinda can't find anywhere else. I'm stuck here just like the rest of y'all. 

60. ask me anything you want (which do you prefer between KNB and Haikyuu?)

now this is a tough one… bc I really love them both a lot, and tbh in terms of quality of writing, art/animation, thematic music, character development and general story, I think Haikyuu!! has KNB beat, buuuuuut…. in spite of its flaws, I have such a soft spot for KNB and I keep coming back to it over and over again even as it falls into relative obscurity. It's the only thing I write for anymore and I'm still, somehow, utterly obsessed with the characters I first fell in love with over five years ago. KNB has problems, for sure, but the things it gets right (like setting a mood, strong emotional beats and character relationships) it knocks out of the park. I don't know if I could ever choose one over the other in terms of like, "you can only read/watch one of these and have to give up the other forever", but in terms of which has had the biggest impact, and still hits me the hardest, I'd probably have to go with KNB… but it's not by any means an easy choice.     

[cutie1365]

A Kid from Queens Part 11

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Info: CA: Civil War Era. Tony Stark enlists his daughter to find the web slinging spider in Queens.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: language, lmk if I should add anything

A/N: I’ve removed a lot of people from my taglists for being inactive, to be on it and stay on it you must like my posts, and comment or reblog. There’s a google form in my bio to request to be added.

Masterlist linked in my bio. Taglist in the reblog.

                  - - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

A bright stage light blinded you as you shifted back behind the curtain. A production assistant was clipping a microphone onto your dress that was so tight they’d actually made you wear spanx. Fucking spanx. You were a healthy 18 year old girl, wearing Spanx. You felt like you couldn’t breathe.

Your gaze shifted to the other side of the stage where you saw your publicist-turned-manager, Linda, give you a thumbs up and a cheery smile. You flashed her a toothy smile right back to reassure her. She had been preparing you for this all week, and you were ready. You were used to meetings with important people, investors, and shareholders; Pepper taught you well, you knew what you were doing.

“Ok people! Live in five... four...” A jaunty producer bellowed from behind the cameras.

You took a deep breath in, closing your eyes and reminding yourself why you were here. When you opened them, you put on your mask: a bright smile, wide eyes, and shoulders back. You were no longer the girl who just last week was crying in a conference room over a boy. No, for the next hour you were Y/N Stark: a girl who definitely had her shit together, sporting a nearly $5,000 Oscar de la Renta dress with some Jimmy Choos to match.

The audience roared as the large red “Applause” sign above the stage lit up.

“Thank you! Thank you for joining us and welcome to all of you at home tuning into our live broadcast of The Tonight Show!” The spirited host greeted the audience, he spoke again once their cheers died down.

“Tonight we have a very special guest. She’s a partner of Stark Industries. She’s the daughter of Iron Man! Give it up for Y/N Stark!” His voice grew more and more excited with each description.

Was that really all you boiled down to? ‘The daughter of Iron Man’? Would you ever be able to be your own person? All your accomplishments, and still, the most interesting thing about you was your paternity.

                  - - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

Unbeknownst to you, thirty minutes away in Queens, May Parker was flipping channels as her nephew ate dinner. Landing on channel 6, she recognized a familiar face.

“Peter, isn’t that your little friend?” She asked excitedly, pointing to the TV. He lazily draws his attention to the screen before he did a double take. Oh God, she looked amazing. He thought.

“We’re not really friends May, she’s just my boss’ daughter.” Peter spoke, hoping she’d change the subject, or the channel.

“Wow, look at that dress! She looks like a million bucks!” May smiled, in awe.

“Try a billion.” Peter muttered, thankful that May didn’t have super-hearing like him. Normally at this time, he’d be getting ready to go out for patrols, but he was curious. Why were you on live TV? You didn’t do interviews. So tonight, he decided to take his place next to May and watch, because honestly - he missed you. If this was his chance so see your smile and hear your laugh, then patrols could wait an hour.

                  - - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Thank you for having me.” You nodded politely as you adjusted in your chair.

“Well it’s not everyday I have superhero DNA seated across from me.” The host joked, and you laughed politely, mentally regretting this already.

“What can I say? It’s in my blood.” You shrugged, the audience roared as the neon sign flashed. Your interviewer joining in, though you could tell it was fake.

“Yikes that was bad wasn’t it, guess I’ll leave the jokes to you.” You declared with a smile.

“I guess out of all those PhDs you have, none of them translate to being able to come up with a decent punchline.” He retorted, playfully.

“Oh certainly not, probably the opposite considering they’re in Electrical Engineering and Ethical Philosophy.” You laughed.

“Which is incredible by the way! You’re 18 and you have two PhDs. How’d you do it?” What an original question. You thought and mentally rolled your eyes.

“A lot of hard work and dedication. And, sure, I’m not oblivious to the tremendous amount of privilege that I have. Sometimes it’s about the right opportunities, and those aren’t always fair. I’m hoping one day to change that.” You spoke honestly, gaining a round of applause from the audience.

“And how do you plan on doing that?” He asked, baiting you. He knew why you were here and what he was supposed to steer the conversation towards.

“Well, systematic change doesn’t happen overnight. But as a start, we want to be able to give young people interested in science, technology and engineering a foot in the door. We’re opening up a Stark Internship program, for kids across the country to come work with us and learn from us. Anyone is welcome to apply. There are more details on our website.” You looked directly into Camera One. You felt as if you were reading from a script, you’ve practiced this so much.

                  - - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Peter, isn’t that what you do?” May asked, turning to her nephew.

“Kinda, Mr. Stark said they were expanding nationwide, wanna help out more people ya know.” He lied, in reality he had no clue what you were doing. A heads up would have been nice, but it was helpful that his alibi was now legitimized.

“I like her.” May said with a soft smile, focusing back on the screen.

“What?” Peter asked, taken aback.

“I like her,” May repeated, “She recognizes her privilege and she’s giving back. Plus her shoes are to die for.”

                    - - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“That’s amazing. Does that include scholarship opportunities?” Your host inquired, just as planned.

“Of course! We already offer a few scholarships, there’s even one named after Dad and I at MIT, but we will be expanding greatly. One hundred of the applicants will receive a $50,000 scholarship, so there’s certainly no reason not to apply.” You laughed.

“You’re going to be a busy girl, doing all those interviews.” He remarked. You hated the way he called you girl. You faked a laugh before responding.

“Oh, I know, but I think it’s important for me to really have an intimate role in the selection, you want to build those personal connections. Ya know?” You nodded.

“Those are important, sure. Now, Y/N, it’s no secret that you’ve also been running Stark Industries’ Philanthropy, so what’s next on the agenda for you personally?” He asked, turning the conversation... this wasn’t planned.

“Um, sure we have a lot of fingers in a lot of pies here at Stark Industries, so we’re constantly making pretty large donations to a number of deserving causes. If you’re referring to large scale philanthropic galas then the NYC Hope Gala is coming up, which targets childhood cancer research and awareness. And of course, The Met Gala is coming up next month.” You nodded. What was he playing at here?

“And can we expect you to attend?” Something about his demeanor was changing, and you cursed yourself for agreeing to do this on live TV.

“Haven’t missed it in four years so there’s a good chance.” You assured him with a smile.

“Are you nervous to attend a public event considering what that took place at the last one?” You felt like you had just been punched in the gut, and you hoped that didn’t translate onto your face. He really was going there, and you had a feeling you knew where this was heading.

“I believe that when you live in fear, the people that orchestrated these terrible things win. So I’m not going to let that happen.” Your mind was reeling trying to figure out his next move, and what your response would be. Should you keep talking to fill the time until commercial break, in an attempt to limit whatever might be coming next? You looked at the monitor, 5 minutes until commercial, shit. A lot can happen in 5 minutes.

“When footage of the attack came out, I think it’s fair to say that the world was shocked.” There were random voices of agreement coming from the audience.

“About?” You asked, surely he wasn’t bringing this up. Your heart began to beat faster.

“I don’t think anyone expected you to stand up and fight the way you did, what prompted you to do that.” Ok this is your chance, stall. You thought.

“I- I suppose it was a spur of the moment, fight or flight sort of thing. In times of panic everyone reacts differently. I have basic self defense and martial arts training and some Stark tech, that’s about it. No crazy powers or anything. Someone once told me that if you have the ability to stop the bad things from happening, and you don’t, then they happen because of you. I knew that I could do something, so I did.” You spoke slowly, hoping to come off as sincere and thoughtful, though you were really just killing time.

“And paid the price.”

“I didn’t say it was easy. But some broken ribs are a small price to pay for saving some lives.” You tried to convince him.

“And how has it affected your relationship with the Mayor’s son, the reason you were at the gala that night?” Shit.

“I think it’s normal that trauma and stress can put a strain on a relationship, but if you’re both willing to communicate and work through it then there’s no reason it should have a negative affect.” You were immediately reminded of your interaction with Thomas last week.

                  - - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Let's be honest, you were using me the entire time.” You said calmly, shouldn’t you be angry?

“Well not the entire time.” He answered with a smirk, dropping it when he noticed you were not amused.

“Thomas.” You spoke seriously, with a brow raised.

“Ok fine, like 95% of the time,” He admitted, dropping his playful tone once more, “Why are you here Y/N?”

“Because it's my turn to use you.” You stated simply, mimicking his smirk.

“What?” His eyes grew wide.

“The public needs to keep thinking were the perfect happy couple.” You explained.

“Why?” He asked, shaking his head.

“I have my reasons and you have yours.” You answered cryptically.

You weren’t surprised when he agreed, his father’s poll numbers had been dropping significantly. He wanted to get back in his father’s good graces. You were going to use this opportunity to look into the family, and the possible weapons dealings Danny Rand had warned you about. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer, they say.

Plus, it gave you a good alibi to move the attention off of Peter, well, Spider-Man.

                  - - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“So you’re still together, despite the rumors that you’ve split?” Your interviewer pried.

“We are still together, and doing quite well, though I appreciate your concern.” Your reply was confident, and just cocky enough to get a laugh from the audience.

“How did he react to the rumors about a midnight tryst between you and Spider-Man?” He was enjoying this, and to top it all off, blasted that damn photograph on the screen, just in case the world had forgotten.

                  - - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

Peter choked on his water, causing May to worryingly ask him if he’s alright. He attempts to reassure her, and silence her to hear your response.

You laughed before answering.

“Well I’d hardly consider it a midnight tryst, considering this picture was taken at 7:30. Plus Thomas was over at the time so it would be pretty hard for him to believe there was any ‘trysting’ going on.” You lied. Peter listened more intently as the interview was slowly devolving into an interrogation.

“So are you denying that you know Spider-Man?” The interviewer pressed, his tone near threatening.

“I’ve met the guy once,” Peter saw you shrug, “He saved my life, I thanked him. I’d hardly consider that knowing someone.”

It was in that moment Peter realized why you were doing all of this. You were trying to protect him, to shift the story. You wanted to get the attention off of him, and by doing that, shifted it all onto you. You were taking the fall, and once this blows over you can’t turn back. You were going to have to keep this up, this media persona. That meant more TV appearances, more interviews, more parties and galas. Becoming the exact person you didn’t want to be. Putting aside your work and research, for him.

                - - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“When we come back Y/N Stark is going to answer your questions you sent in on Twitter!” He pointed his note cards to the camera with a smile.

The curtain closed as you cut to commercial break. Your smile dropped and your mask melted away.

Your publicist Linda ran on stage yelling at the host.

“What the hell was that? We told you the attack was off limits!” She scolded him, you almost thought she’d threaten to sue. You’d never seen her this worked up before.

“It’s what people care about, it’s what they want to know! No one cares about how much money you donate to some kids.” He argued, you shook your head at how heartless he was.

You stormed over to the side of the stage, you could hear Linda’s heels behind you.

“Y/N-“ She spoke once she caught up to you, you whipped around to face her.

“This is why I didn’t want to do this bullshit! I’m out here getting interrogated! What’s he gonna ask about next, huh? The incident? The fucking Accords? Jesus!” You ranted, flailing your arms about.

”Back in 10.” A stagehand informed the two of you.

“Listen, I didn’t know he was going to do that ok. But now, you’re going to get your butt back in the chair and answer their silly questions from Twitter and you’re done, ok?” She pushed you back onto the stage, you quickly took your seat as the curtain separating you and the audience was pulled open and you were back live.

              - - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

After a painful 15 minutes of mind numbing questions like “Who’s your favorite Avenger?” and “F Marry Kill- Thor, Captain America, and Iron Man” (which you had declined to answer, that was your dad for Christ sake), you were finally making your way back to the car. Linda was giving you instructions in preparations for your day tomorrow.

“Ok, we’ve got the Vogue interview tomorrow morning, then Elle in the afternoon so I’ll send hair and makeup over around 5:45AM, you’ll have to be up and ready. Oh, but don’t eat anything you’ll want to look nice in your dress tomorrow.” You gave Linda a side eye and eye roll when her last words came out of her mouth. You were certainly not starving yourself. If you wanted to eat, you were going to eat, and God have mercy on anyone who got in your way.

Once you returned to the quiet emptiness of your apartment, you immediately slipped out of your dress and into yoga pants and a sports bra.

You began wrapping your knuckles, and attacking the punching bag - a little coping mechanism Cap had taught you. You were furious about how the interview went.

You had doubts that people would ever stop asking about Peter, and if any of this was worth it.

Little did you know, the friendly neighborhood Spiderling was sitting on your roof, after peering in through the window and seeing your assault on the bag.

He was curious about how you were doing. You had looked so happy and put together- but was that just a brave face and a dress? He realized now it was just a mask.

When he glanced once more, he found you in the kitchen, unwrapping your bleeding knuckles and downing a shot... and then another. You looked miserable, and exhausted.

He wanted to talk to you, but he didn’t want to make things worse. He was about to leave when he noticed you pulled out your phone and open the call app.

Your finger hovered over his name and he raised an eyebrow. You had an internal struggle over whether or not to call him, instead you set the phone down and groaned, sliding it across the counter.

“F.R.I. can you set an alarm for 5AM?” You asked, though you wished you didn’t have to.

“Sure can boss.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. replied.

You slipped a robe over your athletic wear and headed onto your balcony. You leaned on the edge, and looked out onto the moonlit park with a sigh. Dropping your head to your hands once more, and gently rubbing your temples.

Leaning back up onto your elbows, you took in a deep breath.

“I know you’re there Peter.” You spoke softly, turning your head slightly but keeping your body facing out over the ledge.

And your next action surprised both of you: you invited him in.

- - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - --

Taglist in the reblog.

Requirements for my taglist- like this post, and comment or reblog to stay on. 

Google form in my bio to request to be on it.

[iamanoriginal]

Post-It

Pairing: Lafayette x Reader

Word Count: 1465

Warnings: Language

Summary: Teaching AU, Laf teaches French, Reader teaches art. Established relationship, prank war ensues.

A/N: Second fic! If you enjoy, please consider liking and rebloging. Constructive criticism is welcome! Hopefully something new will be up tomorrow. Once again, requests are open! I take all requests, my only restriction is that I only do x reader fics. Anything other than that is fair game. Enjoy!

Lunch was probably the best part of the day. While you loved kids, you usually needed a break by the time lunch came. Your 8th graders agreed with you. As soon as the bell rang, they were rushing out into the hallway. You waited a few minutes before leaving the art room, heading out into the elective hallway, towards the lounge. You passed by the Home Ec. room, a warm smell drifting out. You stepped in the doorway.

Your coworker, Hercules Mulligan, stood there. Apron on, he was showing his 7th graders how to make pies for their labs tomorrow. He glanced up at you and grinned. “Hello, Ms. L/N. Could you do me a favor and give this to Mr. Jefferson? It’s for his class,” he questioned, pulling a colonial uniform from behind his desk. You nodded.

“Sure thing. Smells great in here.” You took the uniform from him. You went back on your way, quickly arriving at the lounge.

Your fellow 8th grade teachers milled about. Eliza and Alex, the English and Science teachers respectively, were in a corner, eating lunch together. The newly-wed couple were still in their honeymoon phase, and it was extremely adorable. John and Thomas, the Math and History teachers, sat together, discussing lesson plans. You set the uniform down in front of them. Thomas quickly thanked you and returned to his conversation.

You turned around, headed towards the fridge. Angelica, the choir teacher, stood there. She was hanging up a sheet.

“Hey Y/N! I have the club sponsor sign up sheet. Take your pick. You can sign up for two if you want,” she spoke before walking away to sit with Peggy, the choir student teacher. You scanned over the club sheet, deciding to just pick one out later. You opened the fridge, reaching in for your lunch. You grabbed your sandwich, but there was something you couldn’t find. Your cupcake.

Your boyfriend, Laf, who happened to teach French I, had taken you out to dinner the night before. You had gotten cupcakes on the way home, and you had opted to take yours for lunch. And you knew exactly who had taken it.

You stormed out of the teachers’ lounge, headed straight for the language corner. It was the corner where the 7th and 8th grade hallways converged, and it happened to be where all 3 foreign language classes were held. You knocked harshly on the door. Laf didn’t teach 7th grade, so he had the same lunch as you. Something along the lines of ‘come in’ was heard.

Fuming, you opened the door. Laf sat at his desk, smiling at you innocently. “Salut, mon amour. Quoi de neuf?” He grinned at you.

“You know exactly what’s up. Where is it?”

“Aw, mon ami. You will have to be more specific. Where is what?” He was trying so hard not to snicker; you could see it in his face.

“My cupcake.”

“You mean.. This?” he asked, reaching under his desk, pulling up a cupcake wrapper.

You sighed half-heartedly, rolling your eyes. “Yes. That.”

“Oops. I ate it, mon amour. How about you come over here and I give you a taste of what’s left?” he asked, winking at you.

“Tempting, but no. I have to go eat what’s left of my lunch. We have like 15 minutes until break’s over,” you replied, stifling your laughter as you flipped Laf off before leaving the room to finish your lunch in the lounge.

“Alright, class. Today, you will continue working on your self-portraits. I’ll walk around, let me know if you need help,” you spoke out loud to the class. You began walking around the room, stopping and talking to each individual kid about their piece. It was your format, you wanted to give each kid your undivided attention at least once a day.  Eventually, you arrived at a table in the back.

“For real? A 100? You’re joking. I got a 63. I think Lafayette’s out to get me. That, or I’m just shit at fren- oh.. Hey, Ms. L/N.. You totally didn’t hear that, did you?” One of your students spoke before looking up at you, half-smiling.

You grinned at the kid, an idea popping in your head. Laf was very adamant when it came to his supplies turning up missing. “I’m a bit mad at Laf at the moment, so I’ll let it go if you do me a favor. Take his Post-It Notes.” You grabbed a Post-It Note from your desk, scribbling a message along the lines of ‘fuck you’ and returned it to the kid. “Leave this in its place.”

The kid nodded, promising he would do it next period when he had French.

Little did you know, you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

When you walked into your room the next morning, you were expecting to set your stuff down and prep lesson plans for the day, but that is not in fact what happened. Your entire room was covered in toilet paper from head to toe. It was wrapped around your desk, on the cabinets, it was even hanging from the rafters. You walked through the mess, dropping your bag down by your desk. You had a planning period 1st period, so you would spend that time cleaning up. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a bright Post-It Note stuck to your chair. You grab it, quickly reading it.

You really thought I wouldn’t know it was you who took my Post-It Notes? I asked Mulligan to do this for me after we left yesterday. Thank him. I expect new Post-It Notes soon. See you at lunch, mon amour. - Laf

You sighed, wanting to be angry, but you could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. The bell rang, and seconds later, your student aide came walking through the door.

“Good morning Ms. L/N, what do you want- whoa. What happened here?” She asked, eyes widening as she saw the mess.

“Mr. Lafayette happened. I think I have an idea, however, but help me clean this up first.”

Laf returned from the lounge after his lunch break, he had a break in grading papers so he decided to come eat with you in the lounge. He had picked you up from your room and dropped you off, so he was not expecting for you to have done anything.

He gasped as he entered the room. You had gotten him his Post-It Notes. Not in the way he had expected.

Everything was labeled by Post-It Notes. His desk, the whiteboard, each book on his shelf, each pen in his cup. Each desk, each chair, all 4 walls. He turned around ready to storm your room and confront you. A single Post-It Note stuck to the door.

I hope this number of post it notes was satisfactory. Let me know if you need anything else! See you after work. - Y/N

This continued for the rest of the week, a new prank each day, each signed with Post-It. Both the rest of the staff and most of your students had picked up on it as well. Even Mr. Washington, the principal, had joked about it during a staff meeting. Your personal favorite was when students had volunteered to throw water balloons at Laf, and he had arrived home soaked to the bone.

It was Friday, which meant it was the first club day. You had chosen to sponsor dodgeball club. After 7th period, you quickly changed into something a little more athletic before heading to the small gym. As you walked in, you were bombarded by dodgeballs. You caught one in your hand. It had a Post-It Note on it.

Truce? I’d rather not have paint dumped on me. - Laf

You looked up to see a group of about 15 kids, all standing in front of Laf.

“Very good, class. That was the first tactic, surprise. Now, let’s divide into teams and play a match!” he yelled out, grinning at you. The kids began to divide themselves up as Laf walked over to you.

“Surprise, mon amour. I’m the other sponsor. Do we have a truce?”

You grinned. “Sure.”

“I have a present for you when we get home. I got some more of those cupcakes.”

You glanced up at him, smiling. “Did you now? Are you going to eat them all yourself?”

He grinned at you. “No, I might need some help from you,” he quipped before pulling you into a sweet kiss.

You stayed there for a few good seconds before you remembered you had students. You quickly pulled away, turning towards the kids, who were all staring at you. You clapped your hands together.

“Alright! Let’s play!”