#is that I need to go to the bookstore this week

[lukreziaaa]

random spencer reid x reader headcanons

they have a super sweet meet cute that makes everyone goes “shut up you’re lying” (especially morgan) and makes them blush every single time.

don’t know maybe they met in a bookstore and he grabbed reader a book they couldn’t reach and reader saw the hand and fell in love (love at first sight with hand) and then turned around and fell even more because have you seen him?

and maybe reader is a teacher or a professor and it’s one of those teacher that is so good and loved by their students.

they could be science-y or a lit professor, i just know that spencer would always help in every way possible when they need it and together they make some of the best lessons of the course.

they love doing things together, one of their favourite routines is sitting on spencer’s incredibly cozy looking couch and they each read their books.

and when spencer has read his third or fourth book he asks reader to read to him out loud.

they also love to watch films and tv shows together. reader loves to hear all the inaccuracies in star wars from spencer and he loves listening to all the fun fact reader knows about behind the scenes and actors stuff because he knows they love to find out about them.

and maybe one halloween or for a convention they convince him to drop the fourth doctor outfit and try to go as the eleventh

(because he is my fave and spencer would have such an easy time cosplaying him…like seriously, he dresses like eleven)

and reader dresses as clara or river (or jack/rory if you want male!reader)

under the cut I’ll put the proof that spencer has the same style as eleven and would have no problem cosplaying him (also I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Spencer’s outfit for 7 years circa and eleven’s outfit for a week aka since I saw it)

Do you see the vision?

[verycoolusername1]

It's you that I'll be kissin'

Summary: In which Nico may not be the dream guy, but he makes up for it in his own special way.

Track 9 of short n' sweet - slim pickins

Warning! Nothing just pure fluff

A/N: I'm so bored I decided to write to keep my mind off the state of my country(writing this after the election so-)

I was meant to publish this later(on Sunday) but I clicked the wrong button so now it's here

You watched Nico as he slept, his brown hair falling across his face. Your hand ghosts over his cheek before raising it down.

"I can feel you staring at me." Nico mumbles.

"Sorry," you apologize. "You just look so pretty when you're sleeping."

Nico huffed a laugh as he rubbed his eyes. "I would say thank you but that sounds creepy."

You slowly got up and opened the curtains, temporarily blinding you.

"Given this scenario, it's not creepy at all." You argued. "I'm gonna get in the shower, you wanna join me?"

"It is cheaper," He hums in agreement.

You took out your hand for him to take which he did, and the two of you went to take a shower and got dressed.

You were currently drying your hair before picking one of Nico's sweaters and went down to the kitchen to find him cooking breakfast.

You sniffed the air. "Smells amazing baby."

"Well I'm not trying to end up like last time." Nico says softly.

Your face grimaced at the memory. "Those cooking lessons I've been giving Jack been passed down to you it seems."

"He always brags of how good of a teacher you are, you not ever considering being one is still a shock." Nico flips a pancake.

You looked at him in shock. "Being around little kids is something I can't handle."

"Are you gonna be able to handle our kids one day?" Nico asked.

You nodded. "Well I already do, Tracker is always a good boy."

You both knew what Nico meant but he brushed it off seemly taking that as an answer

Your dog Tracker loves the both of you and never caused all that trouble. He was visiting his uncle Jack for the week.

Nico turns around and places two plates down for the both of you, he sits beside you.

"I have the morning off, afternoon skate today. I'm all yours." Nico eats a piece of bacon.

Your eyes gleamed with joy. "Really?" Nico nods.

"Hm ooh can we go to the bookstore down the street? I've been meaning to get this book, it was romance and get this the love interest was a hockey player." You chuckles.

"That sounds familiar." Nico jokes.

"Well I didn't need it when I had the real thing." You poked his side. "I just wanna see what all the hype is about."

Nico nods as he looks at you. "Anything else you want to do today?"

"We can cuddle, I definitely missed those." You took a bite of your pancake.

"But babe we cuddle all the-" You cut Nico off before continuing. "And do a movie marathon of high school musical."

"We don't have enough time for that." Nico told you.

"Oh I know, that's for when you get back from afternoon skate." You explained.

Nico realized your intentions and his face grew in horror. "Oh no."

You began to smile wickly. "We will watch it so many times you'll know all the words to 'I can't dance' it'll be so much fun!"

"You wouldn't." Nico said.

"I'll blast the soundtrack in the car." You teased.

You then ran off to put your shoes while Nico started doing the dishes.

"Hey Nico?" You called out.

"Yes?" He washed the plate with the sponge.

"You know I love you right? I don't wanna make you watch it if you don't want to, you're the best boyfriend I ever had and I really don't want to lose you and I'm talking too much, I'm going to shut up now." You rambled.

You finished with your shoes and let out a yelp as you got up, Nico stood there staring at you.

"Baby what's wrong-" Nico cut you off this time by kissing you softly.

"Do you really mean that?" Nico asked softly.

"Of course I do, how could I not? You're just you and that's all I could ever need." You answer without hesitation.

"I love you." Nico caressed your face.

"I love you too." You smiled softly. "Now hurry up we have no time to waste!"

[irisbleufic]

@eidetictelekinetic, I'd like to follow up on something we keep discussing in comment threads to my Devil's Minion stories, because I've found the paper trail in my archives. There's indeed something I wrote as an undergraduate ca. 2005 that I had forgotten about that underpins a common theme (namely: Daniel and Armand wondering what might've happened if they'd met when they were young in Armand's time and place, when he was still mortal) periodically haunting the dialogue across my various unconnected stories. I'm somewhat in disbelief that I can prove this exists, and I needed a spark of joy like this in an otherwise bleak, snowed-out week.

This is a ghost story in that the work I'm discussing here was written under my deadname, but I don't tend to shy from people knowing it. Still, it's times like this when pieces resurface that I realize I block facets of my former self so thoroughly at times that I do my writing history a disservice. This felt like knocking down a wall, and I'm really startled at what's sitting covered in dust on the other side. Mindfuck your characters long enough and you might even mindfuck yourself.

In the spring of my senior year at Wellesley, I took a poetry seminar with Frank Bidart. He didn't like my work much, which was a source of amusement to me; if somebody doesn't like my writing, I just dig in and crank up the annoyance factor by being even more myself. The number of professors and editors that I've gone out of my way to irritate in my higher ed and writing careers is vaguely embarrassing at this point, but that's another story for another time.

At the same time as I was in this poetry seminar, I had also overloaded my schedule with Medieval literature seminars. I'd done that for about four consecutive semesters, actually. The Early Modern and Medieval course offerings at Wellesley, at least at that time, were so numerous that you really could do about two years solid of nothing but that type of coursework. I was fluent in French at the time, so I was able to pull some unhinged shit like reading La Chanson de Roland in Anglo-Norman with minimal dictionary assistance while reading it in English in one of the courses, and then I started haunting the used bookstores in Harvard Square and digging up volumes of lesser known Anglo-Norman ballads and fragments, and there was this one book that focused on early surviving trobairitz poetry, songs by women from that period. There was one fragment that really, really haunted me. I don't know if I still have the book, that's the one piece in the documentation chain I'm still hunting down, but I have my translation of that fragment because I found the poem I wrote around my translation. That poem got published twice after I graduated; that publication history is neat in its own right.

So, the poem I wrote for the seminar is really the thing I want to talk about here. I had this short 10th-11th century trobairitz ballad fragment that I translated out of Anglo-Norman, and I was very excited about it, because it was very gay. I thought, hmmm, I'll write a narrative poem about a couple of nobodies set in that time period. Who are my nobodies? I'm picturing teenagers, just a couple of boys. They can't be more than sixteen or seventeen. Where are they? I'm also taking a class on crusader states at this point in time, and I'm extremely interested in various cultural migrations in and out of Italy and Spain (the good, the bad, and the ugly). So I just go, okay, I'll have them fleeing a noble household in Italy, heading for Spain. My head's entrenched in those places thanks to a history class; it gives me something to hang onto as geographical starting and endpoints. Why are they running away? Kid attached to the noble household has fallen in love with a stonemason's apprentice from somewhere a lot further abroad; they don't speak the same language, but since when has that stopped people from falling in love? Stonemason's apprentice wants to save the kid in a bad situation in the noble household, get him out of there. Yeah, let's do that. And I'll cover just the journey, not what happens before they leave or after. And I'll show what they run into along the way, and they'll hear someone perform that piece of the song, and one of them is able to translate it for the other as they gradually learn enough pieces of common languages to communicate with each other.

This poem was never going to be long; the poems in our portfolios for this class couldn't be long. The concept work behind it was much longer than the poem itself, as was the work I put into the fragment translation. This kind of storytelling in lieu of confessional poetry was going to annoy my professor. I knew exactly what I was doing with all of this: satisfying a storytelling itch, letting myself practice translation, being the inveterate fandom writer I already was by that point, just being generally obnoxious in my early 20s. It's a living.

I wrote the poem. It got workshopped in class; classmates loved it, Frank made faces and was barely polite about it. The written feedback in it on my final portfolio called it "pseudo-medieval pastiche," and I was so happy I could've framed that shit. I put the poem away for a few years and didn't think about it. I moved to the UK and started an MA program in Medieval Studies. My poems started getting published in SF/F/Spec publications. In 2009, I learned about a call for poems for a 10th anniversary special issue of a magazine called Mythic Delirium, and something about the themed call made me remember my pain-in-the-ass, labor-of-love portfolio poem, which was called "Journeying." I submitted it.

"Journeying" was published in Mythic Delirium Issue #20, which, (in)famously, also first featured a poem by the now-disgraced Neil Gaiman called "Conjunctions." If I'm honest, it's bizarre to have that as a major point of memory in this poem's first printing. Here's how "Journeying" looks in that issue of the magazine:

The italicized portion at the end is my translation of the trobairitz ballad. It's all that survives of one particular song that happened to be written down. It always amazes me that so few lines can express so much longing across so many centuries.

Flash forward a few more years to when I learn about Erzebet YellowBoy's brilliant Papaveria Press hand-stitched limited artbook editions of poems. One of my oldest friends, Paige (@dreambreathing) and I decide to collaborate as we've done so many times before: they did a set of two watercolor illustrations for the poem conceived as a fold-out frontispiece and backplate, and we pitched it as an artbook. Papaveria said yes. In 2012, "Journeying" was released as an edition of 18 of these little books:

You never see the boys on the road or under the tree overlooking those ruins (those ruins, those fucking ruins, I forgot) until you pan in. Don't get distracted. Look closer. Imagine me, @eidetictelekinetic, getting more and more spooked every time we talk about this recurring thing in the dialogue I'm writing across stories. Why am I doing this? Why is it familiar? And by the time we get to "Guard Your Heart," why do I have the feeling it's hit peak hilarity by the time Daniel's looking at those Talamasca photographs?

This is an awfully long punch line, but it's here. I wrote it, some version of it, some version of them, in another life. And for me it was another life, too, a life with the name of a girl I now barely recognize. Who is Adrienne? I know that Adrienne wrote this poem, but I no longer know her as well as I would like. However, I do know that she gave up almost everything she had to give me what I have now, and I'm the writer that I am because of her. I carry these characters with me because of her; she's the one who first read them.

(Also, here's another shout-out to @dreambreathing not just for being one of my best friends through all of this and one of the most talented artists I've ever known, but also for being the namesake of my current biggest troublemaker in Caldera. Love you, Paige.)

[tenrose]

I just finished the Fifth Season and HOLY SHIT THIS BOOK IS ABSOLUTELY INSANE

I need a recovery therapy cause so many traumatic events happening like what the hell?????? So many questions left unanswered, and I didn't buy the next book 😭😭😭😭

But the last fucking sentence?????? They don't have a m-????? Is that what he means when asking???? Is that the thing that has been missing??? Are you fucking kidding me????? And you throw that at my face while I'm trying to recover from some very fucked up situations???? What am I supposed to do with all of this?????

Anyway so far, best book I've read in a while, 100% would recommend to go to therapy over this book

[mychem1calbr0mance]

going to complain for a second whatever

[berenshand]

feel like pure shit just want her (the city of dublin ireland) back

[altruistic-meme]

i am in dire need of a new bookshelf.

[cimicherrychanga]

just emailed last years college secretary, looked into signing up for 2 other colleges, got the details for a job im interested in + texted the friend whose sister works there to see if she can get me Connections and i got another job offer from the place i interned at im soooo cool and adult

[neixins]

i need to clean my room but it’s already 8pm and i know cleaning will take at least 2-3 hours and i still need to wash my hair but i can’t stand the mess anymore

[partangel]

got a 19 out of 20 for my thesis project 👍 truly living the archetype of fake it till you make it sell it like you believe on it etc etc. more validating than the final grade however was having my thesis supervisor, known for being one of the most eloquent lecturers on the university telling me that i am an excellent writer 🏆 really living for this spa treatment. having said all that cannot help but confess that i am just waiting to get trampled with because imposter syndrome has been hitting more than ever due to this attention

[rosy-letters]

I miss them...........

[natreads]

hate that with freelance I never truly have the day off because in the back of my mind I'm always feeling like I should be working

[chaotic-history]

having to speak russian now after having pretty much completely stopped studying for six months is so fucking frustrating bc i'll completely blank on a word and then later i'll hear it and it's like. i *know* the words i just can't remember them

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Also wondering if I should follow up on my initial little idea of "I should buy a book with every single paycheck" especially since I seem to be actually reading books now

[fangmich]

Cute book covers I found the past days...

[altruistic-meme]

as we can all see, the bsd brainworms got me. so i am adding bsd to the manga collection chart 🫡