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fuckyeahgoodomens · 4 months

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Ooh! A wonderful interview with Rich Keeble who played Mr. Arnold (the one with the Doctor Who Annual :)) in S2! :)❤

Q: In Good Omens 2 you play Mr. Arnold, who runs the music shop on Whickber Street. Were you a fan of Good Omens before joining the cast, and is it challenging to take on such an iconic story which is already loved by a huge fanbase?

A: “There’s always pressure if you’re working on something with an existing fanbase and people might have an idea already as to how you should be approaching something. To be honest I was aware of the show but I hadn’t actually seen it before I was asked to get involved. I knew it was something special though! I remember talking to Tim Downie [Mr. Brown] about how when you tape for certain things you know if something’s a “good one”. Of course by the time I was on set I’d watched Season 1 and read the book.

I had an interesting route into the show actually: I was asked at the last minute to read the stage directions at the tableread on Zoom, and Douglas [Mackinnon] the director called me up to discuss pronunciations of the character names etc. To prepare further I quickly watched the first episode on Prime Video, and I was very quickly drawn into it. A couple of hours later I was on a Zoom call with David [Tennant], Michael [Sheen] (with his bleached hair), Neil [Gaiman], Douglas and the whole team, including Suzanne [Smith] and Glenda [Mariani] in casting. After that readthrough I asked my agent to try and see if she could shoehorn me in and she came back with a tape for Mr. Arnold saying “you play the piano don’t you…?” They wanted me to demonstrate my musical playing ability, so I rented a rehearsal studio room in Brixton for an hour and filmed myself playing piano (and drums just in case), then I did my scenes a couple of different ways and I guess it wasn’t too terrible!”

Q: During episode five you mimed to music written by series composer David Arnold alongside a real string quartet – this must have been very immersive! How did it feel to work with David, and bring the ball to life?

A: “I actually didn’t meet David Arnold sadly, but I did work with Catherine Grimes, the music supervisor who is lovely. David was at the London screening but I missed an opportunity to go and say hello to him which I kicked myself about.

I remember before I was in Scotland there was a bit of uncertainty as to whether I would need to play anything for real or not, so I practised every day playing loads of Bach and other music I thought was era-appropriate just in case they asked me to do anything on the fly. So yes, it was very immersive as you say! They sent me three pieces of music to learn which I practised in my Edinburgh apartment on a portable folding keyboard thing I bought. They introduced me to the string quartet (John, Sarah, Alison and Stephanie) and I tried to hang out with them when I could. On the day we all had earpieces to mime to. I had to mime while listening out for a cue from Nina [Sosanya] from across the room, then deliver my dialogue and carry on playing, which was tricky! The quartet and I helped each other out actually: Douglas would say something like “let’s go from a minute into the second piece of music”, I’d look at the sheet music and whisper “where the hell is that?” and one of the quartet would say “we think that’s bar 90” or something. Here’s a little bit of trivia: the shooting overran and the string quartet couldn’t make the last day, so they found some incredible lookalikes to replace them for the scene when we get lead out of the bookshop through all the demons, although I think they also kept them deliberately off camera.”

Q: What did you think of your music shop when you first saw the set? Did you have a favourite poster or prop?

A: “I thought it was incredible! It could’ve been an actual music shop with all the instruments hanging up with the “Arnold’s” price tags on. The attention to detail was incredible, well IS incredible as I understand it’s all still there. It’s hard to pick a favourite to be honest. I did a little video walkaround on my phone at the time so maybe I’ll post that if I won’t get in trouble. Interestingly the shop interior itself was elsewhere on the set to the shop entrance you see from the street. You walk out of Aziraphale’s shop, over the road, through the door of the music shop and… there’s nothing.”

Q: Mr. Arnold is tempted into the ball by a Doctor Who Annual and is playing the theme in the music shop scene – are you a fan of Doctor Who in real life? And what was it like making those jokes and references in front of the Tenth Doctor David Tennant?

A: “I’ve always dipped in and out of Doctor Who over the years since Sylvestor McCoy, who was doing it when I first became aware of it when I was growing up. Even if you’re not a fan it’s one of those shows you can’t really get away from, so doing that particular scene in front of David was really fun, and of course Douglas had directed Doctor Who as well. Apart from the amusing situation of two supposed Doctor Who fans talking about Doctor Who without realising they’re in the company of a Doctor Who, I also seem to remember Michael being the one to suggest that he would deliver his “due to problems at the BBC” line directly to David.

Oh, and I think it was actually my idea to grab the annual off the harpsichord before joining the queue behind Crowley at the end of the ballroom scene (which we’d shot weeks earlier at this point). When we were blocking it out and rehearsing I knew I had to leave my position and get to the front for my “surrender the angle” line, and then later it just felt like I wouldn’t leave without the annual so I ran back through everyone to grab it. Nobody seemed to have a problem with me doing that so I just carried on doing it when we shot it! I do remember it being a fun set with Douglas and the team being very open to suggestions.”

Q: How did you balance filming both Good Omens and BBC Ghosts at the same time?

A: “Luckily both shows were a joy to work on, and everyone seems to know about both of them. We were shooting them in early 2022 and I also had a little part in an ITV drama called ‘Stonehouse’, starring Matthew Macfadyen. I usually never know when I’m working next so to have three great TV jobs at once was very unusual. There was all this date juggling and I actually almost had to turn down Ghosts due to clashes. Luckily both shows had to move some dates so it worked out. But yes, I spent two weeks up in Scotland shooting all that Good Omens ballroom stuff, then I came back down to London to do Ghosts, knowing I’d be back up to shoot my scenes in the music shop in a couple of weeks. Now, when I found out who was playing my wife in Ghosts I couldn’t believe it: Caroline Sheen – Michael Sheen’s cousin! She was amazing and that was another great set in general. I say “set”, but it’s all filmed in that house which surprised me. I’d worked with Kiell [Smith-Bynoe] and Jim [Howick] before, and Charlotte [Ritchie] was in the Good Omens radio play a few years ago and a big fan of the book. Charlotte’s very musical of course and we got talking about my folding keyboard I had for practising my Good Omens stuff, and she ended up setting it up in the house for us to have a play on!

Now, when we’d shot all our internal scenes there was this big storm forecast, and our external scenes were scheduled for the day of the storm, so that had to be moved into the next week. It meant I ended up shooting those scenes outside the house, then going straight back up to Scotland to shoot the Good Omens music shop scene the next day! When I mentioned to Michael I’d just worked with Caroline he said “ooh she’s in Ghosts is she!” and revealed that she’d texted him about me which was rather surreal. Then later after the Ghosts wrap party Kiell gave me a part in his Channel 4 Blap, so at the time I felt like I was killing it career wise, but the industry quietened a bit after that and my workload eased off over the year so I was in my overdraft by November.”

Q: What are your plans for the future – can we expect to see you in something else soon?

A: “This year, after a bit of a quiet start, I was very fortunate to work on a Disney+ show called Rivals which stars… David Tennant! I think I’m allowed to say my character is called Brian, and I shot five episodes so that was another really amazing job, and great to work with David again (I told him he must be my good luck charm, although I hope he’s not sick of me). That should be out at some point in late 2024. Other than that I’ve filmed a few other bits I presume will be out next year, one of which is called Truelove on Channel 4 which actually looks really good. That starts early January. Of course now Season 3 of Good Omens has been greenlit, I would love Neil and the gang to have me back on that… but I can only keep my fingers crossed!”

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actually-safer-to-kiss · 1 year

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Cravings

Summary: Spencer admires Reader while pregnant and in the depths of her cravings.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content warnings: Pregnancy, eating

Word count: 848

Spencer can’t pinpoint when he’s loved you the most. Hearing you groggy over the phone when he was on the jet heading home would’ve been the obvious moment, considering he blurted the three special words out in the middle of you talking about your upcoming work day. You and the team, who also witnessed it, were stunned into silence. But he still spoke to you after, whispering like he was alone the entire time.

Your wedding day would be another appropriate answer. He didn’t tear up as any groom would. No, he cried. His tears collected at the brim but took time to overflow, blurring his view of you gliding down the aisle with thoroughly-planned elegance. He had to block them to gather himself, as one would shield themselves from the sun.

But this moment tugs at his heart: when he opens the front door with the classic, “Honey, I’m home,” and you emerge from the bedroom with a swollen belly hidden under an old sweatshirt. The joy on your face is a moment he won’t forget. Granted, a portion of said joy might be thanks to the greasy bag and styrofoam cup he’s clutching desperately in one hand. Nevertheless, he savors the look and the feeling that must have felt similar to men who graced their families with bountiful hunting results.

Except in this case, the “bountiful hunting results” are chicken tenders with fries, extra honey mustard, and a large hot fudge sundae from your favorite restaurant that happens to be in the middle of nowhere and roughly 30 minutes away. But cravings are cravings, and they’ve been relentless throughout the second trimester. He’ll scope out the specific restaurants, local or corporate, if it makes you happy and appeases the baby girl (hopefully) inside you.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” A kiss on the cheek sufficed as you waddled toward the kitchen. You put the sundae in the freezer for now and barely waste time getting a plate and napkins, but it’s less to clean up. And less for Spencer to double-clean later.

Before you sit down, Spencer takes the plate from you, and he swears for a minute he saw motherly instincts kick in.

“You don’t have to eat at the table," he says. “Come on,” he tilts his head toward the couch as he walks, the obvious not mentioned.

“We don’t eat on the couch.” You reply.

He’s still walking.

“You don’t like it. Crumbs, lingering nastiness, and other science-y terms you’ve used.”

He puts the plate on the coffee table. “I’m willing to make exceptions. Plus, with a baby, mess is inevitable.” He leans down, revealing the breakfast tray he bought. You clearly never saw it before. Because the way your open mouth morphed into a smile, he would've thought he unintentionally did magic. He pulled out the small legs. “I figured it’s best to adjust slowly while I still can.”

You walk toward him, your hands resting on your belly. “But this is your couch.”

“In our apartment.” He takes a pillow and fluffs it, setting it against the arm. “Sit.”

You eventually comply. There’s still a look on your face, indicating second-guessing, like you’re somehow doing this without his knowledge. Meanwhile, the breakfast tray is in his hands, and he makes sure you’re settled. You lay across the couch.

Spencer puts down the tray, asking if you want a drink before devouring. You shake your head, eyes staring down at the fatty American dish in front of you. While you begin, he picks a vinyl from your shared collection. The one thing he won’t waver about is the classics.

As in classical music.

As in Mozart. Spencer has noticed your familiarity with the symphonies over the past six months. He loves it, regardless of whether it’s just because he’s insisted you listen to classical after you told him the news.

When the melody flows, Spencer finds a seat on the couch. You slide your feet toward you to make room. As soon as he sits down, he puts your legs in his lap, letting you stretch out again. His lips disappear into his mouth for a minute as he suppresses a giggle.

All the chicken was either swallowed or mush in your mouth and specks of salt littered your lips and hands along with honey mustard drippings. This. Spencer's in love again. As you suck the sauce off your own fingers like it’s the only sustenance you’ve had in days. The comfort he feels here, knowing the woman basically attacking her dinner will be the mother of his child. This is something even his three PhDs are unable to put into words.

“Do you want some help?” Spencer leans over, takes the napkins under the plate, and wipes the corners. You continue chewing, polite enough to keep your mouth closed and manage its volume. “There.” He puts the napkin down. And he looks at you, realizing just how much you've changed his life.

“What?” Your mouth is so full.

“Nothing.”

You swallow almost everything. “Something.”

He shrugs. “I just love you.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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tepkunset · 7 months

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Representation vs. Appropriation

When I made a tumblr blog post pointing out that the character creator in Baldur’s Gate 3 included culturally appropriative face tattoos, lot of people decided to bend over backwards to defend this. Excuses I have found while giving my blocking finger a routine work-out thus far have ranged from “Larian Studios is European so they don’t know any better”, to a classic “it’s just a fantasy game, stop being so oversensitive”. But by far the most common poor reaction was, “what if it’s representation?”

Now, two Māori people were quick to jump into this post and say themselves, clear as day, that this is not representation, it is appropriation. That should be enough right there—settlers do not get to decide what is and isn’t representation for us Indigenous folks. But white people not listening to Indigenous voices is nothing new. I’ve been forced to learn that if you want to be taken seriously by settlers, your best chance is to coddle and appease their poor little delicate feelings. So, let’s pretend for a second that these “what if it’s representation?” questions are actually asked in good, albeit ignorant faith, and not just a pathetic gut-reaction to avoid having to critically think about a beloved game. (Which, by the way, I still overall adore myself, mind you.) Let’s pretend they actually want an answer, and give it to them.

It’s very easy to list the examples of positive Indigenous representation I’ve personally experienced in video games, not made by Indigenous folks ourselves, because there’s only one game that comes to mind: Assassin’s Creed 3. The protagonist of AC3 is Ratonhnhaké:ton of the Kanienʼkehá꞉ka people. Ubisoft is a terrible company for other reasons, but they did one thing right in the development of this game: They hired a cultural consultant, Thomas Deer. Deer was able to guide them through avoiding offensiveness and stereotypes, and include proper cultural touchstones that Indigenous players, especially Mohawk players, would want to see. For example, Ubisoft originally wanted to include sacred ceremonial masks in the game, but Deer told them that depictions of these masks would be taboo. He also helped them choose what clothing and jewellery was authentic to the Nation. This, among much more, helped create a truly representative experience. What makes it representation is that it features an Indigenous character in a positive way, without crossing lines into what should not be touched by outsiders. But had Ubisoft decided to ignore Deer’s consultation and go ahead with using those sacred masks… that would have been cultural appropriation.

Cultural appropriation is taking a closed cultural practice and using it yourself, despite not belonging to the culture it comes from. The key word there is closed, as in, something not for outsiders to touch. Eating frybread is not cultural appropriation, because it’s something freely shared by Natives to others. But wearing a fake headdress to your local musical festival is cultural appropriation, because headdresses are sacred regalia not freely shared by Natives to others. It really is that simple: just listen to boundaries set by the People.

“But my fake headdress is just clothing.” “But a fake kakiniit is just ink.” “But my fake totem pole is just decoration.” Except not, and the very fact that you have no respect for the history and meaning behind these things is the perfect example as to why they are not for you. But being told something isn’t for them has always been a hard a pill for settlers to swallow.

The phrase “nothing about us without us” is often used when advocating for rights and respect of minorities. It was first brought into English vocabulary by South Africa’s disability activism in the 1990’s, and has since been adapted across the world as a slogan to mean uplifting voices of the people you claim to want to help, instead of speaking over them. I personally first heard it through EDIRA work (Equity, Diversity, Inclusion, Reconciliation and Accessibility) at my job, and I feel like it can be applied in many different ways, this being one of them. The best representation comes from listening to the people you want to represent. Had Larian done that, they would have known that imitating those tattoos was off limits. But since they didn’t, they took what wasn’t theirs to take. And that’s appropriation.

#cultural appropriation #appropriation #representation #racism

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justcallmesakira · 1 month

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HIIIIII

okay, so how about, chuuya, atsushi, dazai, and nikolai with a s/o who loves dresses gothy??? they act cold and mean around others too, other then them?

yayay tyyy, remember i luv youuuu

"Skulls and hearts"

Sypnosis: You are the epitome of goth and a breeze of coldness, how do these lovely men take care of you?

Genre: romance, suggestive (slightly)

Warnings: reader is more of goth lolita than like abosolute goth bcs i have no knowledge on goth, suggestive on chuuya, one wednesday addams joke, please lmk if i didnt manage to quite reach the goth culture-

A/N: HII sweetie hru? just wanted to say i put more of a lolita goth since i am not educated well on it lol-

DAZAI was definetly fascinated by your style, infact when he first saw your dark attire on the day you entered the agency to file a report, his eyes were already sparkled!

The way you spoke so confidently and was non-chalant about it and everything, your formal attire, everything piqued him.

Especially the cold air surrounding you with your blue hued gaze. He love how you did your make up so much you could call it a mini crush at first sight.

So to fill his intrests he decided to stop you for a while to maybe use his charms but unfortuantly for him it obviously did not work out with how deadly your gaze is

"If looks could kill..." he had thought to himself.

Overtime he had started to court you and all though you despised his annoying tactics he seemed quite cute to you so you accepted his "love" for you

He even bragged about how cool and pretty his new girlfriend was all day at the agency especially when you dropped off his lunch at the office saying "I aint nobodys petty little housewife but here`s your lunch, bandaged idiot. Next time i will throw your lunch down the sewers where your rat friend lives" You had spitted t out loud.

Even the agency is piqued in you and your creative insults which you throw at him whenever he does soemthing stupid For example: "Bandagedass" "Suicidal loverman who cant even fix his clothes" "Charming bedbug i picked up from the trash" "Idiot with a handsome face'' and so on!

But ofc like the masochist he his he loves listening to them which made you creeped out and made you use much appropriate words to insult him.

He definetly tries to rile you up by saying suggestive stuff by playing with the hem of your black laced skirt, push him ten feet away if he does because you wotn be able to do that when you get home...*wink wink*

He loves your music taste, though he isnt into goth culture he loves it when you tell him about goth subculture, it reminds him how your closer and more vulnerable around him than anyone else.

You gave him some goth themed band-aids to put around his bandaged arms and neck which he shows them off like a badge of honor!

Put your makeup away from him though he will probably mess it up and make himself look like if wednesday went through a bad eye day.

And later after scolding him for going through your stuff you finally taught him how to properly do goth makeup.

You even taught him some gothic slurs to throw at anyone who tries to disturb him though he will probably use them is someone insults you which we will be on about now.

If someone dares to insult your gloomy atire, well he doesnt need to say anything because you are there already with your gaze sharper than your eyeliner.

But even so hes ready to take care of his goth gf who only soften around him anytime, anywhere!

Of course CHUUYA supports your style why wouldnt he?

If anything the first time you two had met he had a mutual intrest for you, "how pretty yet terrifying at the same time" he thought.

Soon enough he put up the courage to speak to you though the atmosphere around you was quite cold

He didnt really like people who had arrogance in their personality but you maybe seemed nice to aproach.

Of course the person you are you kept calm and maintained formality, if so you looked quite elegant.

Time passed, dates were booked, hands were slid. He finally confessed to you and you calmly smiled at him.

God...how he loved seeing your eyes soften and your matte lipstick lips form into a small smile at his smallest gestures.

Like buying you all types of goth culured dress since he doesnt know what tyoe you wear and he doesnt want to disrespect goth people

And seeing that smile and light hue of happiness form on your beautifully done cheeks

He loves complimenting you too, all the time!

"Babe you look so pretty right now," "Do you like that dress over there? The laces might suite your skin" "That evangeline themed makeup set...The colours suite your eyelids." "All dressed and pretty just for me to ruin,,,Hahh you really want to rile me up, doll, Dont ya?"

He CAN and WILL buy you the whole fricking hot topic.

Oh you like a chain belt there? frick it buys you the whole belt section. Oh you liked the glossy purple lipstick at the side walk shop? buys 10 different shades.

Hes an executive ofcourse he will buy you everything!

Chuuya can make a few suggestive comments too,,,yknow.

"Wow, doll you do your makeup so well? You could be a professional you know?" "Oh chuuya, how you fluster me'' "Well...professional or not imma` bout to ruin that makeup so bad right now."

Dont worry he will help you clean up the mess he did to your face later. Afterall he loves a cute little goth gf!

I wont deny it but ATSUSHI was quite scared by you at first glance, but warmed up soon when he realises that your not half bad afterall

He had met you at cafe uzumaki sipping on a coffee cup while sketching, wow, the fancy sketchbook and the fact that you were drawing while wearing long black dimond studded nails really made him admire you

Though he was shy at first since you had this shilling aura around you, he still took a breathe and walked over you

You kept looking at him up and down as he nervously tries to introduce himself which makes you break your demeaner and let out a soft chuckle "Oh my...what a wonderful laugh they have..."

So the conversation between you two started, infact while conversing you had drawn a very neat sketch of him with your skull printed pencil.

He was definetly shocked on how you drew him so well in such short time.

Over the agency work days, atsushi was quite a bit nervous, which dazai made a few jokes about him having a crush on "The cafe's goth girl"

And so you two became a thing! well after atsushi got somehow rid of his nervousness

Except your the boyfriend in this relationshio ;D

He tries to buy you stuff though, but you always deny and take him to oth stores at the corners of yokohama, to say the least your better guided than him.

I am sure the agency also warmed ap at you! not since whenever you would always have this threatening aura with a ravishing face of dark-hued makeup but when he turned around to speak to you

Your all soft smiling and tilted eyes.

You even dressed him up in goth clothes one time which he looked a bit too silly in.

If dazai ever saw atsushi in scene clothes though...he wil definetly say something like "Ohohoho you two remind me of Morticia addams and um, oh yeah! Gomez addams Hahaha, wait then kyouka can be your..."

You instantly went "Atsushi please, tell your STEROTYPICAL, UNFUNNY, MENTALLY ILL father to get the fuck out of here and go try to drown himself or something"

So now, not only is atsushi scared of you so is dazai!!

He still loves you and your style though, who wouldnt because i would love a goth s/o who would put on the most gorgeous make up ever and rai--

...

He`s both barking and joining your cult.

JUST KIDDING-

NIKOLAI obviously fell in love with your sass at first sight! What an independant and cool woman! he had thought when his emerald and blue eye fell upon you.

You werent even scared of his illy and outrageous tactics instead you just rolled your eyes at him as if hes some freak

Now this is intresting.

I think nikolai has prefernces for goth lolita so if by any chance thats your aesthetic get ready to be filled with flirts and touchiness

He just cant help it! Your so cold to him but cant you see how intrested he is in you? not just your style but your whole personality he loves analizing people!

Which you find about after many tries of him trying for you to at least speak with him, He was annoying especially during the first stages of your relationship

But soon enough you warmed up, realising that though hes a bit fucked up in the head hes quite chill and fun to hang around.

Niko definetly uses his ability to steal your favourite items from hot topic, so be prepared when you see your vanity filled with all kinds of stygian clothes, lingerine, cropped tops, fishnets, corsets, puffy skirts, makeup etc.

That act made you more soft around him and hes just giddy he got to make his infamous "gloomy" dove smile :D

You help him dress up sometimes too, maybe drawing out long triangles under his eyes for his next show or maybe putting on some dark lipstick just to smooch his neck.

Okay i can defiently see him and you be great fashionistas! One with clownish crimson and black attire and the other with a menacing aura of a maginficent raven (got the reference?)

He is just into you okay? Dont question it!

A/N: i had a bit too much fun writing this lol BY THE WAY GUYS DONT BE OFFENDED BY THE JOKE MY HUBBY MADE AT ATSUSHIS PART, HES JUST A LIL SILLY :33

Divider crds!: @firefly-graphics

Tags: @heartsfourdazai @silverbladexyz @ruanais @biscuits-spooky-corner @riiwrites @chuuyasboner @atlasnessie @saelique @tsuunara @elizais

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perpetuallyconfused10 · 8 months

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Drive My Car (1/2)

GIF by rqgnarok Part 2

WARNINGS: None. Just two idiots in love. And maybe Hotch is a little too soft.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

“Fuck.”

The voice is low enough that you think you’ve imagined him at first, but there he is, standing at the bottom of the stairs leading to his office with one hand pressed to his forehead and staring at the phone in his other like it’s burned him.

“Hotch? Are you alright?”

He turns to look at you, appearing about as startled as you imagine he ever can. “I’m fine,” he says. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

In his defense, you didn’t expect to be here this late either. The others had left the bullpen over an hour ago, having finished their paperwork much before you.

You hold up the culprit for your staying behind, a Use of Force report that had ended up taking a lot longer than planned. “Just finishing up. Are you sure you’re okay?”

The hand on his forehead moves to his hip, and he studies you for a few seconds. Then he sighs. “My car’s in the shop. Jessica was going to bring me home, but Jack’s gotten sick and she doesn’t want to move him from his bed. I’m going to call a cab.”

That explains why he’s leaving so early. You’ve never heard of him leaving before eight or nine.

“Poor kid. That’s never fun,” you say with a wince. “But you’d be lucky, Hotch. It’s seven on a Friday night. Everyone and their mother is calling a cab.”

“It’s quicker than the subway.”

His voice is flat, worried. You make the decision in a second. “Not quick enough. Let me drive you.”

Hotch’s brow furrows as he considers your offer, mentally calculating the distance from your apartment to his. “I couldn’t ask you to do that for me. I’m miles out of your way.”

He’s right. He is miles away, but that doesn’t deter you. As wonderful as Jessica is, from what you’ve heard, you know Jack idolizes Hotch. He’ll want to be with him now.

“I’m not doing it for you,” you say with a smile, knowing you’re about to play your ace. “I’m doing it for Jack, who is sick and should see his father.”

There’s no room to argue with you. Hotch picks up his briefcase and thanks you. With long strides, he leads the way out of the bullpen and towards the garage.

Ten minutes later, find yourself rushing to stack empty to-go-cups and loose papers, shoving them away as Hotch climbs into your car. “It’s no problem, really. Sorry about the mess.”

Hotch shakes his head. His lips are a little less downturned than usual, which in your mind almost constitutes a smile. “Consider it noted,” he says, “We’ll talk during your next performance review.”

Fighting a smile, you can’t help it. You hit his arm. “I take it back. I’m not sorry.”

“It really isn’t a mess,” he says. “And you really shouldn’t be sorry. You should see my car. You can’t move for Jack’s toys.”

You hum, hands gripping the wheel as your reverse out of the spot, “Be careful what you admit around me. You might be my boss, but I can always snitch on you to yours.”

An amused huff is the closest you get to making him laugh, but you take it. He shakes his head. “I’ve had too many uncomfortable conversations with Strauss to bother counting. I’m sure I’ll survive.”

“Not if I have a hand in it.”

Neither of you says anything for a long while after that, and neither mind. What the protocol is for driving your boss home outside of work, you aren’t sure. If there is something in the FBI manual about it, you’re quite sure Hotch knows it – but asking him feels a little on-the-nose, and so you keep quiet and put the radio on.

You’re also sure that there isn’t anything in the FBI manual about what music is appropriate to listen to with your boss in your passenger seat. If there were, you’re certain the songs on at the moment – half of which you vaguely remember Morgan and Garcia dancing to on one of the team’s nights at the bar, and the other of which might be their next choices – don’t make the cut.

Feeling your face heat up, you clear your throat. “I think I have a couple Beatles albums in the glove box if you wanna look for one,” It isn’t so much a suggestion as it is a request — maybe even an order – and you know he senses that. With a nod, he reaches over to open it.

“You’ve got eclectic taste,” Hotch says after a moment, raising an eyebrow at you as he pulls out one of the CDs buried somewhere in the pile. “I didn’t take you for a Mozart fan.”

The corner of his mouth pulls itself into a smirk. It’s the kind reserved for non-working occasions, or, alternatively, occasions that don’t require the wearing of a suit jacket. Like now. Not that you’ve noticed the broad lines of his shoulders in his dress shirt, or the movement of his Adam’s apple as he speaks, more easily seen with the top two buttons undone. And if you have, that’s nobody’s business.

You shrug. “I’m not one, really. Reid likes it.”

For a long second, he looks at you. “You keep a CD in your car for Reid?”

“He doesn’t like the radio. It’s distracting. I don’t particularly like it, either.”

Hotch doesn’t let up, “That’s…very thoughtful of you.”

Keeping your eyes on the road is more of a task than you’d like.

“They’re only a couple dollars. I just buy them when I see them.”

He takes another look in the glove box, grabbing a beaten-down copy of The White Album and pushing it into the player. But before the opening to ‘Back in the USSR’ is even over, he’s pressed pause and shifted in his seat to look at you head-on. Silence stretches between the two of you again. The dull hum of the engine and the rain battering the windows sound, of a sudden, much louder.

“What? You’re making me nervous.”

He is. If becoming skilled in the art of dangerous driving weren’t a side-effect of working with the BAU, you might’ve crashed the car by now.

You chance a look over at him. His expression is set in a frown. Over your short tenure with the team, you’ve fallen witness to enough of what Morgan deems his ‘Hotchner frowns’ (trademark implied) to know that this one is different. There’s something softer about it, more considerate than displeased.

“Those other albums…Sinatra, Radiohead, Stevie Wonder…you’ve barely touched them. Not compared to the others.”

Damn profiler. The stubborn part of you — which was a larger part than you’d like to admit — wanted to ignore him. Even so, you know it’d never work. Hotch is just as stubborn as you are, and worse than that, he is far more patient.

“They’re not my favorites, no, but—” you relent.

Gently, Hotch cuts you off. “No, they’re not. They’re Rossi’s, Prentiss', and Morgan’s. I’m sure you’ve got records in there for JJ and Garcia. And–”

You look down again at your hands where they rest on the wheel. The skin of your knuckles pulls as you tighten your hands around it. In a sigh, you admit it. “—And for you too, yeah.”

He tilts his head. When he speaks, his voice is soft. “Why?”

Retreating into silence again, you turn the corner onto his street. But even off the clock, Hotch’s presence is commanding, his stare on you unassuming and exposing all at once.

You laugh. “Remind me never to end up in an interrogation with you again. You’re terrifying.”

“You haven’t learned enough from them if you’re still deflecting,” he says, ignoring your jibe. Instead he folds his hands in his lap.

You could double down, tell him jokingly to fuck off and then claim that swearing at him is entirely acceptable in non-working circumstances. What it is stopping you from giving him the answer he wants, you’re not sure. This isn’t the office. It’s not neutral ground. This is your car, your territory. Forced out of the context of work, Hotch is no longer just an abstract concept, your hardass of a boss — he’s a real person. Your friend. And something about that pulls at you.

“I had a little trouble adjusting, at first,” you say, stretching the words out until they become unfamiliar things. “More than I’d expected. I knew when I took the job what it’d be like. On paper, at least. But the first few cases…it was another thing to be doing it, you know?”

It’s the truth. The early days, right after you joined the team, were rough. They’d been a constant guessing game of when to speak up and when to keep quiet, when to shove down all of the stress and the fear and the self-loathing and when, if ever, to let yourself feel it.

Hotch stays quiet this time, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him. Was it too honest to admit that? His presence has gone to your head, like wine on a summer evening.

“I never let it affect my work–” you say in a rush, self-preservation instincts in full swing. You stop halfway, let the words wither in your throat.

One of Hotch’s hands twitches as if to reach for you, but retreats at the last seconds, remaining limp in his lap. He hums, his voice a low murmur. “I know that.”

You’ve come this far. Might as well finish this. “We’d come home from a case, and sometimes I’d drive Reid back so he didn’t have to get the subway. We’d drive back to our apartments with the radio on. But the news…”

Hotch sighs, “...Another robbery, another murder. Another thing out of our reach.”

There’s no judgment in his eyes, none of the sharp analysis profiling demands. It hits you again that you aren’t talking with the man that conducts your performance reviews, but the man who rolls his eyes at Reid and Morgan’s bickering, the father who’d drop anything to make his son happy.

A smile feels a little out of your reach as you remember those early months, so you settle for a nod. “I picked up a CD or two after the first couple weeks. Then I found out Reid liked classical music, so I looked for some. And it made sense, if I was giving Morgan or Prentiss or Garcia a ride too. I guess it got a little out of control.”

Hotch shakes his head. “That’s not out of control. It’s kind,” he starts, then stops for a second, his features rearranging themselves into a frown once more. “You know you don't have to do nice things for people to get them to like you, don’t you?”

Eyes widening, you almost think you’ve heard him wrong. “What?”

He tilts his head, his gaze on you soft as you put the car into park in front of his apartment complex. “Maybe you don’t do it anymore, but towards the beginning…I got the feeling you thought you’d have to move mountains to get the team to like you. And you didn’t.”

He’s right. You really had felt alone, for the first few months. You’d done everything you could to make yourself tolerable: memorized Garcia’s miles-long Starbucks order, lied about where you lived to Reid so he didn’t feel guilty about taking a lift from you, nodded along when Morgan told you about his housing projects even though you hadn’t a clue about property development. You’d done it all. And it had worked.

Maybe you hadn’t needed to do it. But over time, obligation had morphed into affection, and you liked to. Hence the music.

“Hotch…”

You’re glad he speaks before you can get any further, because you really have no idea what to say. “I mean it,” he says quietly. “Anyone with sense would do that all on their own.”

“Thank you,” you say, swallowing. “I hope Jack feels better soon.”

“I’ll tell him you said hi. He’ll appreciate it.” he says, checking his watch. “I’d better go check on him. Thank you for driving me back. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nod. “Tomorrow.”

He climbs out of the car, head bowed against the rain, and you wait for him to get inside before you pull away. You’re not mad about the Beatles. The White Album wouldn’t be your pick of their records. But the drive is long, long enough to let yourself think, and you leave it playing until you’re home.

#hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #thomas gibson #aaron hotch fanfiction #how the fuck does tumblr work #soft hotch #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotch x reader #ssa aaron hotchner

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spideycatt · 10 months

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Cat and Mouse || 42!M.M x BlackFem!R

some teacher x teacher luvvvv

Synopsis:

In which your students try to figure out if their favorite teachers have something going on

Word count: 1.1k

Part 2!!

Now playing: Cat and Mouse // Black Swan, Melt // Kehlani, Childs play // Drake

Warnings: Some cursing, BLACK reader, Miles and R are married and have a child!!!, nun else this is nice n soft

Not rlly warnings: Reader is called Moss by miles, use of “Ms. Y/n” by students, Reader and Miles are young teachers at Visions (Miles teaches physics/ general science, Reader teaches art), kind of 3+1 things

The school bell rang loudly, signaling lunch time was over.

“Alright, Moss. I’m out,” He spoke making his way to the door and pausing to turn to you. “You still down for Chinese for dinner?”

You look up, giving him a small smile. “Yea, I’ll see you later?”

Miles nodded with a smile of his own, walking out the door and immediately scolding some students.

“Aye! Stop eating each others faces and let’s go.”

You shake your head chuckling, bringing your own class into your room.

“Alright guys who should we listen to now.. I’m feeling some SZA, what y’all think?” You asked your class, opening the windows to let some natural light in.

Everyone settled back into their work pretty quickly, enjoying the calming melody of the music moving around the room. You were about to get back into grading before spotting one of your students looking at you like they had a burning question to ask.

“Wassup?” You snap them out of their daze, making them laugh nervously.

“O-oh! Its nothing Ms. y/n…” They rush out, looking down at their canvas.

“Nuh-uh c’mon say whats on your mind.”

They swallowed thickly.

“I… I was just wondering if you and Mr.Morales hung out often, uhm.. for some reason.”

“And what makes you think that?” You asked surprised, this was truly out of nowhere.

Another student spoke up, not as shy as the first. “Well I did hear him ask if you guys were eating together for dinner, are you guys dating?”

“Yea! And you guys eat lunch together all the time!” Someone else shouted, more kids joining in on this mini-interrogation.

You laugh at that, huffing out as your sat down at your desk.

“Man y’all some nosy ass kids…”

“Is that a yes, Ms. y/n?” They retorted, making everyones eyes light up in anticipation.

“No. It’s not,” You gave them a pointed look.

Groans filled the class as everyone got back to their projects with no more questions.

II.

Couple weeks later, your students start to get skeptical again.

It was winter now, snowfall heavy and merciless, making everyone miserably cold. And man did you hate the cold. You seemed to have lost your sweater somewhere, walking around to surveillance your class while hugging yourself. You were going to thug it out, but decided freezing to death right before winter break wasn’t worth it.

“Guys I’ll be right back.” You spoke to your class, stepping out and going next door, Miles’ classroom. You open the door shivering, catching the attention of everyone in the room.

“Sorry to interrupt!! Really I am,” you ramble, walking to Miles’ desk, ignoring all the kids staring at you. “Bab- erm, Miles- ugh-“ you stumble over your words, why was it so much colder in here than in your room?

“Wassup, Moss?” He looked up at your shaking form, before telling the kids to get back to work. Of course, they didn’t listen.

“C-cold…”

He tsked at you. “Why are you always so forgetful,” He muttered, stripping himself of his jacket to place it on your shaking frame. “I’ll get you new one later ok?” He placed his hand on your waist, guiding you out the door.

You step back into your class, already starting to feel warmer.

—

“Aye, Mr. Morales?” Someone called out.

“Hm?”

“Why do you call Ms. y/n, Moss?”

He froze at that, not knowing how to answer at first, since the origin of the nickname wasn’t exactly school-appropriate. He just decided to go with the simple version.

“Nickname from when we went to college.”

But he didn’t expect the class to go crazy. They bombarded him with questions, one after the next about his college life.

“How long have you guys known each other?”

“What was Ms. y/n like in college?”

“Was college fun?”

“Wait that was only a couple years ago right?”

“Why does she get to wear your jacket?”

“Girl that man don’t want your childish ass…”

“Are y’all datingg?~”

He sighed and smiled at his class’ antics, letting them get their questions out. They quiet down as quickly as they started getting loud, looking at their teacher expectantly.

“Why y’all thought I was gonna answer any of those, I don’t know.” He shrugged, ignoring the class’ second uproar.

“Aht aht, none of that. I want those work sheets in my hand by the end of class c’mon.”

III.

“If you don’t get your big headed as- self out my classroom..” You rubbed a hand over your face, trying to hide your smile.

It was now spring, humidity through the roof as the leaves start growing on trees again.

“Nah, I don’t think I will. The kids love me. Right?”

He smirks as the kids agree with him.

Of course he wants to bother you during his free period.

“Anyone wanna hear some embarrassing college stories about Mrs. y/n?” He asked the class, earning more cheers.

He spent the class conversing with the kids and pestering you, but not to the point where you were actually mad at him.

“Mr. Morales, it’s almost time to go, get ya butt out my class.” You try again, earning fake cries from the class.

“Mhmm you lucky someone calling me right now. Bye yall!” He chuckled, taking his leave.

A student notice something falling out his pocket as he took his phone out, standing up to get it. Huh, a polaroid.

“Uh, Miss? Mr. Morales dropped this,” She said, inspecting it before handing it to you. “Who’s that?” She continued, pointed at the lady next to Miles with her face covered.

You raise your eyebrow at her, smiling. “Why, got a crush on ‘im?”

A ring of ‘oooo’s erupt from the rest of the class.

“W-what?! No! She just, actually…” The girl pauses, looking at the picture even closer. “She kind of looks like you…”

A second round of ‘oooo’s.

“You’re severely mistaken, everyone start packing up. I’m ready to go.”

+ I.

It was a little later in the school-year, today being take your child to work day.

You leave the teacher’s lounge with your daughter Meadow in hand. The kids’ lunchtime ended a few minutes prior, so they should be outside the classroom by now.

You make your way to your class, letting everyone coo over Meadow before Miles’ door opens up. He walks out, dapping up some of his students who are passing by, looking over the crowd of students surrounding you.

You smooth out Meadow’s dress, answering a student’s question before your daughter screeches out a cute “Papà!”

The students surrounding you gasp, looking to where she was reaching out to.

Meadow climbed down your arms and scurried through the legs of all the teenagers as they watched her. Jaws dropping as she clings to Miles’ legs excitedly. He smiled at Meadow, picking her up and kissing her forehead.

“Hey my lil’ princess, get tired of Mommy yet?”

“WHAT?!?”

kkuet.

[Lowkey wanna do a p2. backstory typa thing. Idk how i feel about this one tho so lmk!!!]

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breelandwalker · 9 months

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Witchcraft Exercises - Music To Witch By

(This is an expansion of a prompt I posted a while back.)

Music is a magic all its’ own. From calling up forgotten memories to stirring our deepest emotions, it moves us in ways that few other things can. Perhaps it’s no surprise that music plays a role in so many rituals and traditions, from ceremonial chants to devotional hymns to festival dances. With this in mind, why not add a little musical magic to your witchcraft?

Create a witchy playlist that helps you get into the proper headspace for spellwork. The music doesn’t have to be specifically pagan or witchcraft-related - it can be anything that inspires the appropriate mood or feeling within you, from any genre you like and for any purpose you wish.

Play music while you cleanse your working space or set up your altar or whip up a magical meal. Belt out songs that elevate your mood and fill you with energy during the morning commute. Sing to your garden to help the plants grow strong and healthy. Hum a little healing tune to a loved one who’s not feeling well to help them feel better. Listen to your favorite anthem during a quiet moment to remind you of your power or dance around your room to a harvest reel.

You can even take it a step further and make your own fullscale soundtrack. Make multiple playlists for different types of magic - something vicious and vengeful for hexing, or something soothing and mellow to help you ground and center before spellwork. Put together celebratory playlists for different holidays, with seasonal music or without. Create devotional playlists for your deities or pantheons, if you have them. Change the playlists as often as you feel the need, adding or removing songs to suit your changing tastes.

It’s up to you whether you share your playlists or just keep them to yourself. This could be a fun group activity or creative exercise if you have witchy friends that you talk shop with, or a nice under-the-radar activity for a stealth witch who can’t practice openly. In all things, remember that your practice - and the choice of the music that inspires it - are your own.

Happy Witching! 😊🎵

For more exercises to help you grow your practice, check out the masterlist here:

(If you’re enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar, tune in to my monthly show Hex Positive on your favorite podcast app, or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊)

#witch community #witchcraft exercises #witchcraft #witchblr #baby witch #pagan #witch tips #stealth witch

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moonlightspencie · 1 year

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Things I Can’t Say

Description: Aaron Hotchner has a lot of things on his mind. Most of which he can never bring himself to say. Until one slip unravels everything. (originally posted on ao3)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Warnings: usual criminal minds-level mentions of cases, hotch being dumb

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: it’s me. hi. i’m back

The case was turning out to be a rough one. Each lead was turning up as a dead end, and every member of the team was just about over the chase after a couple of days.

Y/N sat in the office the local precinct had set aside for the team, on the phone with Penelope as she rattled off a million ideas. They eventually came to a possible suspect, Y/N putting the phone on speaker for Hotch and Reid to listen to as she listed her points.

“He could be a good starting point. He knew Quinn, and hung out in the same circles as the other three,” Garcia offered.

“Okay, we’ll check him out. Thanks, sugar,” Y/N said with a smile.

“Anything for you, my sweet.”

She hung up, looking to Hotch to find him already looking at her.

“She already sent the address,” he said, holding up his phone.

“Awesome.”

“You’ll come with me to check out the first suspect. Reid, I want you to stay here and complete the geographical profile.”

“Sounds good. I feel like I’m getting somewhere,” Reid said, nearly mindlessly.

Hotch nodded, starting towards the exit of the precinct with Y/N on his heels.

They pulled up to the house after a long drive, already getting the feeling this wouldn’t be their guy. Hotch pulled the key from the ignition, and they walked up to the front door.

A man opened the door after a firm knock, burly and a bit unkempt. Y/N spoke up first, hoping to soften him up to questioning.

“I’m supervisory special agent Y/L/N, this is Agent Hotchner. Can we ask you a few questions?”

He raised his brows. “Anything you say.”

“We’re inquiring about a man named Quinn. We hear you were good friends,” Hotch stated.

“Is there a question in there, agent?”

Hotch sighed. “Do you know the last time you saw him?”

“Week ago. Maybe two.”

Y/N crossed her arms, whispering to Hotch. “He’s not our guy. We’re looking for someone highly organized.”

Hotch nodded, dropping his arms.

“Well,” Y/N started, handing the man a business card. “Thank you for your time, sir. If you have any information, please give us a call.”

He looked at the card briefly. Then, “One question.”

“Yes?” she asked.

“Pretty girl like you: what are you doing working with the FBI?” the man asked, a sly smile on his face. “Don’t you think you’d be happier someplace else? Maybe around here?”

“She is a federal agent,” Hotch said, moving to stand in front of her. “Try practicing a little more respect.”

“Oh, and I’m supposed to be afraid of you, G-man?”

“You may be too incompetent to be the unsub we’re looking for, but I promise you this: one more slip-up and we will nail you to the wall for the illegal guns, and the drugs. I’m too busy to deal with scum like you currently, but you can believe I’ll have local law enforcement coming back with a warrant and subsequent 20-year sentence.”

The man stopped in his tracks, color draining from his face and confidence waning completely.

“Hotch,” she said, a hand on his arm. “Let it go. It’s fine.”

“It isn’t fine,” he huffed, turning towards her. The man shut his door in the meantime. “We’re federal agents on a job. There’s no reason for anyone to think it appropriate to treat you like that. Especially in a situation like this.”

“He’s put in his place now, though. I think you put the fear of God in him.”

She laughed, taking half a step back. He didn’t falter, though.

“I just—“ he started and stopped just as quickly.

“I know you’ve been a little on edge with this case. It’s okay. Just… Don’t worry about the little things like that. I could’ve taken care of it.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“Come on,” she said, starting to walk back towards the car. “I’ll let you have your pick of the music on the way back.”

He hid a smirk, following after her. The ride back to the precinct was quiet. Too quiet.

She turned to look at Hotch as he drove, uncharacteristically silent. It took a few seconds before he realized she was watching him, and he shot a sideways glance in her direction.

“You have something on your mind,” he stated, not even bothering to ask a question.

“Yeah. You’re being really quiet. Much more so than normal.”

He sighed, not giving a response.

“What is it, Hotch?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Are you still mad about that guy flirting with me?” she asked with half a smile.

“No,” he said shortly.

She scoffed. “Right. That was real convincing.”

He side eyed her. “I’m not.”

“You know, it’s okay if you are. I get it,” she started, a smile breaking out. “I really don’t mind if you’re all jealous.”

His face flushed, embarrassment taking hold.

“That’s not— It’s not what that is,” he muttered.

She raised a brow, the smile fading from her face as she took in his flustered state. She sat up straight in her seat, looking at him.

“Hey, I was just joking…” she trailed off. “Wait, are you actually jealous?”

“No.”

“You’re flushed and acting really flustered. It doesn’t take a profiler, Hotch.”

“I— No. I couldn’t be.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he said with a raised voice. He then took a moment, taking in a breath. “I can’t be. I have Beth, I can’t.”

Her heart stopped in that moment, she was sure. She didn’t know what to say, settling back in her seat and watching the road in front of her as they continued on towards the station. He was just as quiet, though internally panicking over letting it slip. He couldn’t help but think back to when he first realized she would become a problem for him.

—————

They sat at the table in the restaurant, exchanging the most embarrassing stories they could think of. Everyone was busting up with laughter through the night.

“No!” she exclaimed, looking at Reid with wild eyes. “You took down an old woman?”

Reid groaned. “Not on purpose! I tripped!”

“You’re lucky she didn’t break a hip,” Derek said with a laugh, slapping a hand against his back.

“At least it isn’t Y/N, here, getting thrown up on by a suspect,” Hotch said, smirking at her as he let something she’d been trying to keep secret slip.

“You asshole,” she laughed, lightly smacking his arm. “I was hoping to take that to my grave.”

“Oh, that is so gross,” Kate said, laughing.

“She had to change her pants in the car. It was lucky she had a change, because I did not want to ride back with her covered in… that,” Hotch laughed.

She groaned, pressing her face against his arm and away from the group. He laughed it off, his hand reaching down to rest on her knee as she waited out the laughter of the others. Though, this small gesture started feeling like too much for him. He could tell his face was reddening, and he took his hand away quickly to not alert anyone else to his condition.

He swallowed, trying to calm his nerves. He took in a breath, smiling slightly as she finally pulled away from his arm, though he felt his heart still pounding wildly. He couldn’t feel anything for her. He was her boss. She deserved better.

—————

She sat in her seat, unsure what her next move would be. Unsure what it should be in a circumstance like this. Did he really just admit he was jealous?

“We can just pretend this didn’t happen, you know? I— I don’t want you to feel guilty or freaked out about this,” she offered, still not looking at him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to…”

“No, I know. I know you didn’t,” she said, nodding. “You— You have Beth. You have a lot going on right now, frankly. I don’t want you to feel like this is adding on, or…”

“I understand. I really appreciate that.”

“Anything.”

He swallowed. “I just… I didn’t mean for that to slip out.”

“I know. You really don’t have to explain anything, it’s okay.”

He nodded quietly, both parties turning back to their own worlds as the pavement flew by them.

The rest of the case was a welcome relieve to the conversation they didn’t want to remember any longer. While they never wished for a difficult case, neither of them could say the mental gymnastics weren’t a great way to forget everything else around them.

Before long, though, the case was over. And, unfortunately, they were surrounded by profilers.

“Everything okay?” Derek asked as he sat next to Y/N. “You’re spaced out, sweet stuff.”

She smirked. “I’m alright. Just a lot on my mind.”

“Anything you want to talk about?”

“Not particularly. It’ll pass, so no worries here.”

He nodded, not convinced. “If you need to…”

“You’ll be there,” she said, finishing his sentence. “I appreciate you, Derek Morgan.”

“Right back at you, mama,” he said, nudging her side with a smile. “And if you need me to kick ass…”

“Won’t be necessary.”

“Just an offer,” he said, hands raised in surrender.

She smiled. “I know.”

The next couple of weeks were excruciating. She kept up a happy face, but she couldn’t stop thinking about his pseudo-confession. She wished she had the guts to say something back, but she knew it would have been pointless. He had someone, and had too much on his plate to deal with a younger subordinate confessing feelings for him. It wasn’t unwelcome when Garcia scurried through the bullpen with talk of a new case.

“Meet Maria Gonzales, thirty-four, and Cameron March, twenty-nine. Both women were reported missing within the past month, and just turned up in the past two weeks, bound in plastic with ligature marks on their wrists and ankles. They were each taken from a different healthcare facility in the San Antonio area last month. Now, a Miss Bryar Johnson has been abducted from yet another facility.”

Y/N sighed. “Yikes. So, we should have about a two-week period to find Bryar?”

“Yes,” Garcia started. “The first two women were killed right before they were dumped. Bryar was reported missing three days ago.”

“Plastic could be a sign of remorse,” Spencer piped up.

“What was the cause of death?” Rossi asked.

“Strangulation,” Hotch said, not looking up from the files. “Wheels up in 20.”

The San Antonio case was going surprisingly well, though Y/N felt that it could be going better on a personal level. Usually she’d pair up with Hotch for most of the case, especially since their similar skill sets matched with their different personal presentations was always helpful in getting answers whenever they needed them. This time around, he hardly looked in her direction.

“I know you said you’d tell me if something was wrong, but you’re still not saying a damn thing,” Derek said, walking up to her at the table she sat at.

She looked up at him, then went right back to searching through the files that sat before her. She could tell Derek was staring a hole into the back of her head, but couldn’t justify telling him what was happening in her life at the moment.

He sat down next to her, dragging the files away from her line of site.

“Mama, I know when something is up with you. You can’t hide that from me.”

“I know. That’s why I’m not saying anything.”

He sighed. “You’re being awfully difficult.”

“What’s new?” she questioned with a smile, finally looking at him.

He chuckled. “Touché. You’re talking to me now, at least.”

“I always talk to you, Morgan.”

“Most of the time. Except when you’re trying to hide something.”

She glared at him. “Have you considered I’m not talking for a reason?”

“Oh, I’ve considered it. I just know that when you hold stuff in you get all solemn and grumpy. I don’t want you to get to that point,” he said, turning her chair towards him. “Talk.”

“I can’t, Derek.”

“Why not?” he asked, voice quieter.

She sighed. “It’s… It’s hard to explain. It’s really personal.”

He reached for her hand, quietly taking it and not saying another words for a few moments. She looked to where their hands connected, letting out a shaky breath as she did.

“It’s Hotch,” she whispered, not looking at him.

“What? Is he okay?”

She nodded. “He’s fine. I’m just— I don’t know what to do.”

“What’s wrong? I haven’t seen you like this,” he noted, brow furrowing in concern.

She shook her head. “Yeah. It’s… I don’t know. Have you ever felt something so strongly, but just knew there was nothing you could do about it?”

He paused, studying her for a moment. He scooted forward slightly, eyes still trained on her face as he spoke quietly.

“Do you have feelings for Hotch?”

She nodded after a beat. “And I think he confessed the same to me but— There’s just nothing to be done about it. The worst part of all of it is that he can’t even look at me now. We haven’t really spoken since then. That was a few weeks ago.”

Morgan sighed, looking down. “Damn.”

“Damn, indeed,” she said with half a smirk.

He chuckled slightly. “I’m sorry, mama. I— I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

“Of course you can’t. You’re a smoke show. Who could resist?”

He laughed out loud. “You know me so well.”

She laughed along. “What can I say?”

He stood up, taking her hands as he did. She stood with him, accepting a long hug from him.

“You deserve to be happy,” he whispered. “Let this one go. You’ll find the right person.”

“I get it. It just really sucks right now.”

“I know.”

“We have a break in the case,” Hotch’s voice rang out in the small room, breaking the two of them up.

“Yeah?” she asked, pulling away from Derek. “What do you need from us?”

Hotch looked between them for a moment, then continued on.

“Garcia should have just sent an address. We need to leave now, though. A massive storm is rolling in and roads are getting bad.”

“Gotcha,” she said, nodding curtly. “Are we all riding together?”

“Why wouldn’t we?”

She paused for a moment before responding. “Right.”

“We’ll be out in a minute,” Morgan said with finality. As soon as Hotch left, he turned back to her, “You okay?”

“Yeah. Let’s finish this and get home.”

The storm turned out worse than they all had expected. The take-down ended up slightly more difficult due to power outages across the state, and the more difficult part was the fact that they would be forced to stay for the night when Y/N wanted nothing more than to go home to her own bed.

She sat inside the SUV with Hotch and Rossi on the way back to the hotel for the night, staring out the window at the pouring rain. Their voices became a type of white noise to her as they conversed quietly, though her silence didn’t go unnoticed.

Hotch glanced back at her every couple of minutes, feeling a sense of dread at the coming conversation she currently knew nothing about. His heart felt like it might burst, and putting up a front was getting harder and harder by the minute. He had a million thoughts running through his head, and it certainly didn’t help that she was completely spaced out in the backseat.

“You’re awfully quiet back there,” Rossi noted, finally breaking the two out of their own heads.

“Just tired,” she said. “The rain doesn’t help. I always get sleepy during storms.”

“You sure?”

She hummed. “Yeah. No worries here, Rossi.”

They pulled into the parking lot after a few minutes, and prepared to run inside of the building and away from the downpour. They all got in with minimal damage done, though not without some wet hair.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as she looked at the two men, her own head safe after using a jacket as a shield.

“Good look, you guys. The drowned rat thing really suits you,” she said with a smile, looking between them.

“Hey, watch it. Maybe next time you won’t be so lucky,” Rossi said, laughing lightly as he shook his hair out.

Hotch smiled, scrunching his nose as he brushed his fingers through his hair. Y/N watched him with intent, though not without missing the fact that Rossi knew that look on her.

He cleared his throat. “I’m gonna head off.”

She looked to Rossi as he gave them one last knowing look. A look that was a bit too smug for her liking.

“He’s acting weird,” she said out loud.

Hotch nodded. “That’s Dave.”

“Only when he knows something,” she said, looking back to him expectantly.

“What would he know?” Hotch questioned.

She watched him for a moment. “You tell me.”

He cleared his throat, glancing away. She was silent, hoping it’d prompt him to say something.

“Can we talk privately?”

“Why?”

“You said you wanted to know.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Hotch, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He sighed. “I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

“I’m not saying you would.”

“Y/N.”

She crossed her arms. “We haven’t talked in weeks. I don’t know how to act around you right now.”

“I never should have said anything. Not like that, I know,” he said with a sigh. “I would really appreciate if we could talk about it now, though. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

“Please. Can we go someplace else? The others are going to be here any minute.”

She glanced around the hotel lobby, then back to the man in front of her. He sure looked less intimidating with soaking wet hair and puppy dog eyes.

Eventually, she nodded. “Okay.”

They stepped into the hotel elevator, unsure what to say in the silence. She looked up at him, receiving a small smile. The elevator dinged on the floor they were all staying on, and she led him to her room.

He followed after quietly, standing awkwardly by the door after she closed and locked it. She turned to look at him once she sat on the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m still wet.”

She couldn’t help by laugh. She then got up, making a quick stop in the bathroom to grab a towel. She came back, standing in front of him to hand it over.

“Here,” she said, arms extended with the towel in hand.

He smiled. “Thanks.”

She watched as he scrubbed at his head, his hair flying in all directions by the time he was done.

“You look ridiculous,” she said with a smirk.

He dropped his arms, towel still in hand. His brow quirked up.

“That bad?”

“Not bad. Just ridiculous.”

He failed to hide a smile at that, looking around for a place to set down the towel. She took it from him, instructing him to take off his shoes as she went to throw it in the bathroom once again. She came back to see him settling down on the edge of the bed.

“So,” she started, trailing off as she sat next to him. “What’s up?”

He snorted a laugh. “A lot. I think, first, I need to apologize to you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do,” he said with a nod, turning to look at her more fully. “I shouldn’t have let on that I had any kind of feeling for you other than professional ones. That’s… It was really unfair to you, and puts you in a bad position. I want you to feel safe and respected at work, and I feel like I’ve put that at risk.”

“Hotch,” she said, stopping him. “You didn’t. I know you respect me, and I do feel safe. As safe as an agent can get, anyways.”

She laughed, drawing a small smile from him.

She continued, “I made a joke, and it turned out to be true. You didn’t just up and tell me. I’m just like… Really good at my job.”

He fully laughed this time, head dropping into his hands.

“You’re making it really hard to feel bad about this,” he mumbled.

“Good. You shouldn’t feel bad.”

He sighed, looking back up. “I still will. You don’t deserve to be worried that your boss is going to— make a move.”

She quirked a brow. “Make a move?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m not worried about that and never have been. You care way too much about this team and people in general to make advances at someone who didn’t want them,” she said, scooting an inch closer. “Besides, you made our boundaries clear. You have someone you love, and I know you’re not the cheating type.”

He paused, then let out a heavy sigh, looking anywhere but at her.

“Uh oh,” she said, looking at him curiously. “What nerve did I just hit?”

“I, uh… We broke things off. Beth and I.”

She deflated. “Oh. I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to—“

“No, no,” he waved her off. “It’s okay. It was mutual. Distance has been wearing on us for a while, and honestly neither of us were really feeling it anymore.”

“When did this happen?”

“Last week.”

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded. “It’s not been as difficult as I thought it would be. Jack has been handling it very well. He told me the other day on the phone that I’m going to find the perfect person one day.”

Hotch smiled at that, finally looking back at her. She smiled back, nodding.

“I’d have to agree with him. He’s got that big old brain from his dad, you know?” she said, nudging him in the arm.

He laughed softly again. “He’s a great kid.”

“The best, arguably.”

He hummed in agreement.

“Can I ask you something?” she said after a beat of silence.

“Anything,” he replied with a brief nod.

“Do you ever say or do the things you want to?”

He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean by that?”

“You just keep so much bottled up. Do you ever let yourself dump it all out?”

He cleared his throat. “On occasion, I suppose.”

She nodded thoughtfully. He watched her, knowing something was stirring in her head.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked quietly.

“Can I slip a secret?”

“Yes.”

She swallowed. “I really, truly wasn’t uncomfortable when you let it slip. The whole jealousy thing.”

“What?”

Hotch’s heart started up again, unsure where she was going with this, but really hoping it went in one direction.

“I know what you were feeling. Like, every time we show up to a new town and half the ladies in the place are staring you down. I get it.”

He let out a breath. “I don’t—“

“If this is like, way too inappropriate for me to say, I’d really appreciate if you didn’t fire me. But, I’ve had a thing for you since my first day on the job. Frankly, these past few weeks have been hell.”

“Y/N…”

“Again I ask that you don’t fire me.”

He chuckled. “I won’t. I— Since your first day?”

“Remember when I couldn’t remember my own name for a minute there at the beginning?”

He hummed. “You were nervous for the interview.”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “I’ve never been more prepared for an interview. I was nervous that my possible new boss was a smoke show, and it freaked me out even more that he was staring me down the second I walked in the door like I was an unsub.”

He smirked. “A smoke show? Really?”

“As if you don’t know,” she laughed, pushing his shoulder lightly. “I just… I guess I kind of freaked out seeing you. And hearing you talk so passionately about work for the first time. Not to mention the way your voice sounds…”

“Alright, let’s not get carried away,” he said, color rushing into his cheeks.

“It’s also super cute when you blush like that,” she said, squeezing in the last phrase before he could stop her again.

He sat quietly, just taking her in for a moment. She hid a smile, unsure what her next move should be. He cleared his throat.

“So, are you really all that sorry that things with Beth ended?”

“Sorry that it might have hurt you? Yes. Sorry that it’s done? Not really.”

“I see.”

“I also don’t know how excited I should be, considering you could totally blow me off right now and see if sleeping around is your new lifestyle. That might make things worse for me, honestly.”

He laughed. “Oh, yes. Leaving the person who gave me the courage to finally end a serious relationship is at the top of my list.”

Her face dropped. “What?”

He took in a breath, now realizing what he’d just said. A nervous laughter bubbled out of him, his eyes wide.

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You broke things off because of me?”

He groaned. “Not fully.”

“Hotch, what the hell,” she said, laughing fully. “What if I was, like, not on board?”

“I didn’t think you were until now. I guess I still thought it was worth it. Plus, like I said, we’ve both been wanting to for a while.”

“Still!”

She laughed, scooting even closer to him. She took his hands in her own, a wild smile on her face as she looked at his bewildered one staring back.

“Are you fully insane?”

He stumbled over words for a moment. “I— I might be.”

She stared at him a moment longer, then decided all of the thinking and overthinking they’d both done was getting ridiculous. If he could act impulsively, so could she.

She leaned forward, pressing a hard kiss to his lips. He stayed still for a moment in shock before responding eagerly. His arms found her waist, and he tugged her into his lap as soon as he could.

(EDIT: starting taglists now! let me know if you want to be on any!)

FULL MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

#luna rises from the dead #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner one shot

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southernmermaidsgrotto · 1 year

Text

Hoodoo, Rootwork and Conjure sources by Black Authors

Because you should only ever be learning your ancestral ways from kinfolk. Here's a compilation of some books, videos and podcast episodes I recommend reading and listening to, on customs, traditions, folk tales, songs, spirits and history. As always, use your own critical thinking and spiritual discernment when approaching these sources as with any others.

Hoodoo in America by Zora Neale Hurston (1931)

Mules and Men by Zora Neale Hurston (1936)

Tell my horse by Zora Neale Hurston (1938)

Let Nobody Turn Us Around: An African American Anthology by Manning Marable and Leith Mullings, editors (2003)

Black Magic: Religion and the African American Conjuring Tradition by Yvonne P. Chireau (2006)

African American Folk Healing by Stephanie Mitchem (2007)

Hoodoo Medicine: Gullah Herbal Remedies by Faith Mitchell (2011)

Mojo Workin': The Old African American Hoodoo System by Katrina Hazzard-Donald (2012)

Rootwork: Using the Folk Magick of Black America for Love, Money and Success by Tayannah Lee McQuillar (2012)

Talking to the Dead: Religion, Music, and Lived Memory among Gullah/Geechee Women by LeRhonda S. Manigault-Bryant (2014)

Working the Roots: Over 400 Years Of Traditional African American Healing by Michele Elizabeth Lee (2017)

Barracoon: The Story of the Last "Black Cargo" by Zora Neale Hurston (2018)

Jambalaya: The Natural Woman's Book of Personal Charms and Practical Rituals by Luisa Teish (2021)

African American Herbalism: A Practical Guide to Healing Plants and Folk Traditions by Lucretia VanDyke (2022)

youtube

These are just some suggestions but there's many many more!! This is by no means a complete list.

I recommend to avoid authors who downplay the importance of black history or straight out deny how blackness is central to hoodoo. The magic, power and ashé is in the culture and bloodline. You can't separate it from the people. I also recommend avoiding or at the very least taking with a huge grain of salt authors with ties to known appropriators and marketeers, and anyone who propagates revisionist history or rather denies historical facts and spreads harmful conspiracy theories. Sadly, that includes some black authors, particularly those who learnt from, and even praise, white appropriators undermining hoodoo and other african and african diasporic traditions. Be careful who you get your information from. Keeping things traditional means honoring real history and truth.

Let me also give you a last but very important reminder: the best teachings you'll ever get are going to come from the mouths of your own blood. Not a book or anything on the internet. They may choose to put certain people and things in your path to help you or point you in the right direction, but each lineage is different and you have to honor your own. Talk to your family members, to the Elders in your community, learn your genealogy, divine before moving forwards, talk to your dead, acknowledge your people and they'll acknowledge you and guide you to where you need to be.

May this be of service and may your ancestors and spirits bless you and yours 🕯️💀

#hoodoo #conjure #rootwork #black hoodoo authors #Youtube #hoodoo books #african american conjure #african american history #black history #black folklore #african american folklore #black magic #african american magic #witches of color #ATRs #Spotify

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swiss-mrs · 4 months

Text

#WEIRD☆GIRL

(Word Count: 4.6k)

Rating: PG-13, Adult Language and Themes, All Characters are 18+

Reader/OC Description: Reader/OC is Afro-Latina. She has long, dyed black hair that is worn straight with baby bangs and shaved brows. She is an alt baddie and would've definitely ruled MySpace. Body shape/type is not detailed. No Use of Y/N.

Playlist

Synopsis: One day, while Dave and Todd are out, they pass by a park void of screaming kids. Instead, the park is taken up by a group of what looks to be a mix of teenagers and young adults. Passing by the loud group, the boys can't help but stare, mixing Dave up with a girl more socially unacceptable than him.

Warnings(?): Adult Language, Sexual Themes (No Smut, Just Horny Boy Thoughts), Catcalling (Potentially Triggering Language)

This is written in third person but mainly narrated from Dave's view.

》》》

"I can't believe they had it!" Todd exclaims, gripping the plastic bag in his hand tight. Dave nods, gripping his backpack straps.

"Yeah, we need to start coming here more often. They have everything. We gotta bring Marty with us when he gets back."

Today marked the first day of the boys' last Spring Break. Marty was out of town on a trip to Florida with his family, so this cut down the trio to a duo, Dave and Todd. The two were currently walking along a street on the other side of town than their usual hangout. Todd found a new comic and video game store, and he and Dave figured they'd check it out.

"I can't wait to read it."

"Remember, no spoilers until I pick up my edition too." Dave replied. As they round a corner to get to their bus stop, they are greeted with the sight of a large clearing between buildings.

On the closest side to the boys was a skate park. It had a decent amount of skaters occupying it, echoes of skateboards landing against concrete traveling throughout the park. As the boys walked passed, they could hear the sound of music. The further they walk, the closer the music gets.

The current song that was playing was what Dave imagined rugged bikers with dark sunglasses and handlebar mustaches listened to. Scary and intimidating. It was muddy and grungy and punk and metal? He wasn't well versed enough to really know how to label its genre. Just as one song came to an end, another just like it followed.

He and Todd were both staring at the group surrounding the picnic table that held the speaker. Each one was different from the next, but they all had a similar dark and grungy style.

Something that immediately caught his eye was a black haired girl who took two big steps to get atop the picnic table. As the new song began to pick up, she got into a matching character. As she winded her hips and lip sang to the lyrics, Dave was completely entranced by her. "Woah..."

"Yeah…" Todd absently replies.

Her unnaturally dark hair cascaded down her shoulders and around the curve of her breasts. Her bangs reminded Dave of a toddler who decided to experiment with scissors. They were far too short to be considered "normal", but, Jesus, did she pull them off well.

She had two bows on the sides of her head, one purple and the other an off-white cream color. She wore a black, short sleeve crop top with red writing on it, something Dave couldn't really read clearly from this distance. She had knitted, fingerless gloves on each hand that nearly blended in with her skin tone. Dave's eyes continued to work their way down her legs, finding her thighs covered with light pink, sheer lace shorts that stopped mid thigh. The only thing keeping her "appropriate" were homemade, cut-off jean short shorts.

Dave couldn't help himself; he was captivated. He's never seen anyone dressed like she was, at least not in real life. It was like she stepped right out of an anime. She was incredibly unique. How was she able to pull that off so well?

Dave's eyes wandered down further to get a full view of her exposed, dancing legs. He couldn't help but wonder what it felt like to touch them.

She swiveled her hips in circles as she began to spin and whip her hair to the beat. Dave had this opportunity to move his eyes up, getting a perfect view of her butt, his body lighting up as his heart raced.

She had made a full turn, stopping in the direction of the two boys, catching their stares. Todd immediately turns his head to try and seem captivated by the clouds above, but Dave is not as quick to notice.

"Dave." Todd mumbles, eyes dodging the girl's gaze, darting back and forth from his friend, the ground, and a very (not-so) interesting brick building behind the park. "Dave." Todd repeats, elbowing Dave in the side, finally snapping him out of his hypnosis.

"Ouch!" Dave yelps in surprise, turning to Todd who is looking at him wide eyed, trying to send him a message. Dave looks away from his friend and back to the table dancer. She was staring right at him with squinted eyes. They seem to make eye contact for a solid second before she abruptly lifts a hand to her forehead. She held up her pointer and pinky fingers. The 'rock and roll' symbol she held against her head imitated horns as scrunched her nose, sticking her tongue out like a child. The action shocked Dave, but he couldn't help but find her oddly adorable.

Todd is quick to snatch the handle at the top of Dave's backpack and drag him away to their bus stop at the end of the street. The ride home was a pretty quiet one after that.

》》》

Two weeks have passed since he'd first seen the strange girl. Every spare chance he got during spring break was spent taking advantage of his vigilante skills for the wrong reasons. He had secretly visited that park numerous times, watching his girl and her friend group from afar. He knew that stalking was not how he should've gone about this, but he also didn't see walking straight up to her and introducing himself as an option either.

Something was definitely wrong with him. There is no good reason for him to know where she lives, but he convinced himself it was just to ensure she got home safe. Tonight only enforced that thought.

Usually she would walk home with at least one friend for good measure, but for some unknown reason to Dave, she walked alone.

Today, she had on an extra baggy hoodie. One that he came to know as one of her favorites. It reached the tops of her bare thighs, the hem of her mini skirt just visible below. She wore leg warmers that matched the color of her hoodie and worn combat boots. She had a small backpack that looked like wings on her back, decked out in pins of all kinds. The oversized hood was perched on top of her head.

She was always good about checking her surroundings and looking over her shoulder when walking alone, but this wasn't a matter of a sneak attack.

Dave watched as an older man stepped out in front of his strange girl. Dave couldn't hear the exact dialog due to their distance and the passing people and cars, but he for sure knew that whatever was being said was not welcomed.

"No. Thank you. I'd rather be left alone." Dave heard that loud and clear, so why did this creepy guy not take the hint and leave?

The man abruptly reached for her arm, and gripped it tight. Dave took off in a sprint.

"Get your hands off me, asshole!"

"Don't be a fucking tease-"

"Hey!" Dave cut the guy off, running up behind her. "Didn't you hear what she said, creep? Let her go!" He said firmly. Both the creepy guy and the girl's eyes look over to Dave, both of them giving him a once over. Her eyes were full of confusion, one thinly drawn brow raised. The man scoffed at the kid.

"What the fuck is this?" he shoots back. Dave squares his shoulders and raises his masked chin. "How about you mind your fucking business, princess, before you get hurt." the man follows up, making fun of Dave's costume.

"Let. Her. Go." Dave repeats sternly. The guy laughs in his face.

"Or what, leotard?" Dave follows up by removing the batons from behind his back. He points one at the man.

"Or else I'll have to beat you until you let go?" He says confidently. The girl cringes, that was not nearly as intimidating as he thought it was. The guy laughs again, flicking out a pocket knife. The two men stood there in a stare down. Their pause gave the girl a chance to yank her arm from the man's grasp, simultaneously using her other hand to whip out a pink taser decorated like a mini Gameboy. She shoves the sparked end into the side of the creep's neck, causing him to twitch and spasm. She holds it there until the man falls to the ground twitching, presumably unconscious. She takes her booted foot and jumps into a hard kick to the man's side.

"Fuck you, dipass!" Dave stands there shocked. The girl's gaze switches to face him. He lifts his hands in surrender and slowly puts his batons back. The girl takes one big step closer to Dave. He jumps back, but she is quick to grab one of his hands and begin dragging him down the route of towards her apartment.

They walk a couple blocks and round a corner in silence before she stops abruptly and turns to Dave. He stands there staring, absolutely shell shocked. "Who are you and what do you think you're doing!?" She asks, putting two hands on her hips and resting her weight on one side.

"Uh-" Dave stutters. The girl raises her brows expectantly. "I, uh- I was trying to help you." The girl's brows draw together as she squints.

"Thank you, but, to be honest, you didn't really do much, and that only answered one of my questions."

"Uh, I'm, uh- The name's KickAss." The girl stares at him in disbelief for a good five seconds, searching his eyes for any sense of a joke.

When she doesn't find anything, she lets out a "pfft" and giggles. "You're joking, right?" She raises her brows with a grin.

"Uh, no. I'm not…" Dave's eyes look everywhere but at her.

"I-," giggle, "I'm sorry." Another giggle, " I don't mean to be rude, but KickAss?" Dave smiles nervously, instinctual reaching for the back of his head. "You really need a rebranding, my guy." She says, an amused smile still playing on her lips. Her eyes didn't hold any malice or judgement, just intrigue.

"Yeah, well, I'm obviously not that creative." He laughs nervously. Dave looks back to her, finally getting a proper look at her up close. She's smiling… at him. God, he was going to faint.

"Jesus, your eyes." She says suddenly, catching Dave off guard. "They're gorgeous, my god." She huffs a short laugh, staring into his eyes. Dave can't keep eye contact for long, completely flustered. He thanked the powers that be that he had a mask on at this very moment. He was sure he was as red as ever.

"Thank you." He looks down. "You, uh, your eyes are beautiful, too." He says sheepishly. She laughs, shaking her head.

"Oh, please. They're just a normal, old brown. Nothing compared to your stunners. Wow." She throws back at him. "Well, I appreciate you stepping in, KickAss." She thanks, putting emphasis on his 'name'.

"No problem. You seem to have it handled without me." His illusion of 'stalking for protection' ruined.

"Nonsense! Thankfully, I didn't need you to start a fight this time. The fact that you even stepped in at all when you saw something means a lot, so thank you." She clasps her hands in front of her, swaying side to side.

"Can I walk you the rest of the way?" He asks. She shakes her head.

"As sweet as that is, no, thank you. I don't quite know how I feel about masked men knowing where I live." She teases. "Plus, it's not much further. I'll be okay." She smiles at him, again. Dave can't decide if he wishes she'd stop looking at him or if he wishes she'd keep her gaze on him forever. She begins walking away, "Thanks, again! See you around!" She shouts behind her, turning another corner.

》》》

Two months have passed. Shortly after their first, up close, encounter, Dave made it a point to walk her home every chance he got, always when she was alone. Well, not every time. She started to get suspicious as to how he always knew when she was walking alone. "Are you following me?" She'd ask, Dave giving an unconvincing 'pfft' and a 'no', causing her to roll her eyes. After that, he made sure to space out their walks but still following her from a distance. It's now nearing the end of June, and his graduation date is only a couple weeks out.

This night was a first. She invited Dave in. His eyes widened in shock, "Yeah, sure!" He said a little too enthusiastically, internally cringing at himself, but his awkwardness only caused her to giggle.

She nods, "Okay. My brother is home, so you'll have to sneak in. I'll go in first. Just turn the corner," she points, "and use the fire escape ladder to get to the fourth window up. My window has a collection of ninja turtle action figures on the sill." Dave opens his mouth to say something, but she continues, "Wait there until I come in. I just have to let my brother know I'm home first, then I can disappear into my room." Dave sits his mouth and nods. "Okay, I'll see you up there!" She smiles, jogging into the building.

Dave watches her jog up the stairs until he can't see her anymore. He then makes his way around the building and, as instructed, climbs up the fire escape. He gets to her window with ease. Through the parted curtains, he could see into her dark room. The light in the hallway provided little to illuminate the room from the bottom of the closed door, but thanks to the setting sun, Dave could clearly see the four little trinkets on her windowsill. It made him smile. She was a little nerdy, too.

"Ok, I'll order the pizza!" Before Dave could analyze her room any further, she bursts through the door, tossing her bag on the floor. She turns, closing and locking the door before running up to the window. She throws the curtains open and slides up the window, smiling brightly at him. "Hola."

"Buenas Noches, señorita." Dave says, again cringing at his choice of words, getting a laugh out of her.

"Vamos." She says, stepping aside. He climbs through the window, trying his best to avoid disrupting the figures. "You up for pizza?" She asks once he's fully inside.

Dave nods, looking around at her room. "Yeah, sure."

She smiles up at him, gesturing to her room, "Bienvenido a mi casa." She says dramatically. "Make yourself at home, señor KickAss."

Dave chuckles at her, shaking his head. "Gracias." His accent is still strongly American, but four years of Spanish didn't make it the worst. He goes to sit on the plush bench at the end of her bed. He figured that was a safe bet. He wasn't on her bed, but he also wasn't awkwardly sitting at her desk in the corner of the room. It was a kind of middle ground. His eyes follow her as she goes over to her old school boombox, graffitied with stickers, and turns on some music, low enough for them to hear each other, but just loud enough to disguise their voices from any eavesdropping. "Do I need to worry about your brother?" He asks playfully, deep down a little nervous.

"No, he's playing video games with our cousins online. He can't hear a thing with his-"

"AHHH! NO MAMES WEY!" a scream can be heard, as if on queue, scaring the fuck out of Dave.

She rolls her eyes, continuing, "headphones on." She sits on her bed, crawling over to rest her bare legs on the empty cushion next to Dave. She grabs her laptop that was laying on the bed and opens it up. "What kind of pizza do you like?" She asks, typing away.

"Uh, whatever." He says, unsure.

"Well, guess we can't go wrong with half pepperoni and half cheese." She says, placing the order. "My brother is pretty boring when it comes to pizza." Another scream could be heard in the background, promoting another eyeroll. Dave chuckles a little, nodding.

He twiddles his thumbs before asking, "So, why did you invite me in?" The girl shrugs her shoulders, still typing and clicking away.

"I dunno. You've walked me home nearly everyday for the passed 2 months, and I've grown to trust you. Every time we part ways, I feel the urge to keep you around. I figured it was about time we hung out for more than just a few blocks." She closes her laptop hallway and sets it to the side. His heart flutters.

Dave looks at her stunned. "You want to hang out with me?" The girl squints at him.

"Um, yeeaaah. What kind of question is that?"

"I, uh- I mean- it's just- you know-..." He stutters. She giggles at him.

"What?"

"I mean, you're just so cool, and I'm, you know-"

She looks at him amused. "You're what? A cool vigilante guy who is sweet and funny and someone who should totally should give himself more credit." She bends her legs, nudging him softly with her knee. She scoots down the bed a little to sit closer to Dave, holding her knees to her chest. She uses her oversized sweatshirt to encompass her entire body. Dave looks at her with admiration, his heart racing again, before looking away from her and down at the bench below him. "I don't hear a 'Gracias' or a 'Tienes razón, mi hermosa. Eres muy inteligente y eres la mujer más bella del mundo. Gracias por todo, mi amor.'" She goes on.

Dave laughs, "Thank you. I don't know if you're right, but you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen." Dave says boldly but still avoiding eye contact, looking down at his hands.

The girl's eyes widen, "You speak Spanish?" She looks horrified, embarrassed by the words of praise she tried to get him to say.

"A little." He twiddles his thumbs more, "I've been taking Spanish all throughout high school. I am no expert, but I can get around." He shrugs.

"Welp, that's embarrassing." the girl reaches up to tug hard on the strings of her hoodie, hiding her face in the fabric. Dave looks up and reaches for her hands.

"Que? No 'gracias'?" He teases, trying to get a look at her face. He has no clue what is coming over him, but he is becoming a bit more comfortable. His heart is still pounding, but seeing her get flustered brought his confidence up. She peers out from inside her hoodie. Her wide eyed look nearly floored him. He was forever grateful that he was already seated or else his knees would have buckled.

"Gracias,... señor KickAss." She says playfully, trying to make up for her embarrassment by joking off. He offers her a soft smile, melting her. It was now her turn to avoid his eyes. Her eyes make their way over to the stereo. "So… you're still in high school?" She asks, looking back to him, wearily.

He nods, "Y-Yeah, but not for long." He says quickly, the realization coming quick that they don't actually know each other's ages. "I graduate in like 2 weeks." Her nonexistent brows raise as she nods. "Are you?"

She shakes her head, "No, I tested out, got my diploma early. I couldn't be bothered with high school anymore." She shrugged. Dave's brows shot up. She really was smart. "It's just me and my brother. The earlier I got out of high school, the more time I had. It allowed me to help out with bills and whatever, get us a nicer place." She gestures to the room around her. "I mean, it may not seem like much, but trust me when I say it's a million times better than where we were." She then takes the time to look around and appreciate her surroundings.

Dave's look of admiration returns. "You're amazing." He blurts out. The girl's eyes find him, holding his eye contact, again with this wide eyed stare. She was gonna kill him. Her heart stopped when she looked in his eyes and found nothing but honesty and softness. She gives him a little smile. My god, Dave was literally going to pass out.

》》》

Dave didn't seem to notice, but hours went by with them talking, eating pizza, and talking some more. It was now pitch black outside, and the only light in the room was coming from her bedside lamps and a flickering candle.

By now, both of them had made their way into the bed. Dave was laying on his back, watching the ceiling while she was laying on her stomach perched up on her elbow, watching him. They were currently both comfortably silent, the soft music still playing in the background. She guessed that her brother must have fallen asleep at his console by now, considering there weren't any more frustrating cries or exciting cheers heard from across the apartment. Dave is the first to interrupt the silence between them. "Would it be a terrible idea to take my mask off right now?"

The girl gasps dramatically, placing a hand on her chest, "and reveal your secret identity, Zorro?" She lets out a short laugh, this causes Dave to let out a tired smile.

"I'm being serious." There's a pause.

"Well…" the girl starts, "you know, once you do so, there's no going back. I'm not so much of a bitch that I'd ever expose you, but you know… it's a big step."

"Is it in the right direction?" he asks, turning his head to look over at her. They stare deeply into each other's eyes.

She sighs, "I'm sorry, babe, but that's a decision you'll have to make on your own." The pet name catches Dave off guard. He nods and sits up, causing the girl next to him to follow suit, twisting her body so she's cross crossed and facing him. Dave takes a deep breath and reaches for the back of his mask. Just as his gloved hands meet the fabric, he felt a smaller hand touch his. "Are you sure?... Absolutely positive?"

He doesn't move, "Positive." He replies. She lefts go of his hand and he pulls the mask forward and off his head. He kept his head down for a second, taking in a deep breath. He could feel her eyes staring at the side of his head.

He looks up and turns to her. They make eye contact for a good 3 second before her sleeve covered hands come flying up to her face, covering her eyes. "Oh my god!"

"Oh my god, what?!" Dave panics.

"You're hot!" She exclaims. Wow, did she really know how to throw Dave off. He watches her, shocked. "This feels wrong, oh my god!" She says, muffled by her sleeves. "I should not be seeing this right now." Dave smiles a little. How does she do this? She's just too cute.

He reaches up for her hands, "Well, like you said, there's no going back, babe." He says, pulling her hands down. Her eyes were squeezed shut, scrunching up her face in what Dave thought was the most adorable way. "Oh, don't be a baby. Open your eyes." He says. She squeezes them even harder just before opening them up, like ripping off a bandaid.

She lets out a sigh as her eyes roam over every feature. She takes a moment to just admire his face before giggling when her eyes make their way to his hair. "What?" Dave asked, this time not panicked, but amused.

She giggles some more, smiling wide. "Your hair is a mess." She says finally, biting her smile.

He rolls his eyes, "Yeah, I don't really do face reveals, so I didn't bother thinking of a way to properly tie my hair up under the mask."

She smiles at him softly, her eyes relaxed. She reaches up to touch his cheek. It's warm and a little sweaty from being stuck under a mask for the last several hours. They get lost in each other's eyes. Dave's jaw was slack, lips parted slightly. Her features still held her soft smile.

"I think I love you." Dave says abruptly, taking her aback.

"What?-"

"I just always feel so safe and comfortable around you, and I love how you're so unapologetically yourself, and you are always so kind and beautiful, and I can't help but find myself always thinking about you, and I'm always wondering if you're thinking about me to, which I hope you do, because I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I wasn't on your mind the way you're on mine, and ever since I saw you dancing on that picnic table when Todd and I were walking to the bus stop and you made that weird adorable little devil horn face thing, I knew I just had to know you, like I was drawn to you, and-"

"Wait, that was you?"

Dave ignores get question and continues rambling, "and I know we're just kids, but I can't think of a better way to live life than with you, and I want us to be together. I want to go to see your favorite scary movies with you, even though it confuses me as to why you still go to them when you say they always scar you, and I want to hold your hand and be there for you when you're scared. I want to go see those bands you always talk about in concert with you. I want to learn every lyric to every one of your favorite songs just to impress you when they come on. I want to hold you at night when you've had a bad day and don't know what to do with yourself. I want to keep you safe and always make sure you're happy. I want to be the reason you smile. I want to walk with you forever, stay by your side. I want to fall asleep beside you every night and wake up to you every morning, and I want nothing more than to hear you say you love me and tell me you love me the same way I love you, and I-"

"Dave, shut up!" She says with a smile, her eyes glistening. "Breathe." They both take a deep breath together. "If you keep going, you'll turn blue." They share a small laugh. "Can I kiss you?" She asks.

Without responding, Dave dives forward and kisses her full force. They deepen the kiss, her other hand reaching up to caress his other cheek, his hands resting on the bed, one on each side of her knees.

Without breaking the kiss, Dave moves to readjust. He pulls her closer, moving her to sit in his lap. She follows his lead, getting up to straddle him. Dave wraps his arms around her waist, hugging her closer to him. She arches her back, "accidentally" grinding against him. Dave is first to break the kiss with a gasp, his hands immediately making their way to her hips. She opens her eyes to find Dave's squeezed shut with his eyebrows narrowed together. His blue eyes open to meet hers after a second, both of them breathing heavily, Dave's eyes wide and innocent, looking up at her.

"Sorry." He says, embarrassed that she was able to affect him so easily. She grins, shaking her head.

"Don't be sorry. It's good to know I have such an effect on you." She leans down to rest her forehead on his. She squishes his check together, pushing him down to the bed, his hands finding themselves caressing her now exposed butt from under the mini skirt she still wore. He felt all the blood drain from his head downward. "Should we keep going?" She asks. Dave nods furiously, no longer able to form words.

She leans in slowly to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "I love you, too."

》》》

Moodboard (exposing "y/n") on my page under #weird girl swiss fic

#dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski fanfic #dave lizewski x you #aaron taylor johnson #dave lizewski #swiss fics #dave lizewski swiss fics #weird girl swiss fic #dave lizewxki x black reader

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pink-tea · 10 months

Text

calling txt spanish pet-names

☆ rating: sfw, fluff

☆ headcanons !!

☆ hispanic/spanish-speaking! reader (gn)

☆ i was listening to kali uchis in the shower earlier, and something in the way she speaks makes me think of getting called sweet nothings in spanish, so naturally i thought about txt !! <3 txt for latine frfr

☆ slight use of hispanic lingo/slang, if you need the context to any let me know in comments <3 (translations at the end!!)

yeonjun

ღ papi

hear me out HEAR ME OUT. ik that "papi" as a pet-name has been dragged through sexualization to hell and back, but i like to think of it as something endearing :( yeonjun coming home and just crashing onto the couch, sighing and leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling, exhausted. then he hears the light tapping of your feet, hand coming to push his bangs from his face as you come into view. pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead and yeonjun melting at your touch. "hi papi, welcome home" or maybe even "papas", as if he were a dog </3

ღ mi amor

mi amor is just timeless, who doesn't like getting called my love? but i'm convinced that something in yeonjun's brain melts at the way you say it. i associate "mi amor" with a soft breathy tone, eyes filled with adoration and long kisses that say words you don't need to say. holding yeonjun's face in your hands, yeonjun letting his eyes flutter closed as you press kisses all over his face. pressing one to his pretty plush lips, sighing sweetly when you pull back to get a good look at him. "so pretty, mi amor"

soobin

ღ cariño

y'all already KNOW. soobin just loves sweet pet-names. like sure, the good natured ones get a cute chuckle from him but he's just such a sap :( you guys should already know cariño by the marias (if you don't, go listen to them, such good music!), but everytime it plays on your playlist or his he just melts because aww, you call him cariño too! pressing a kiss to his cheek when he greets you at the door. "cariñooo," you sing-song happily, tapping his dimple as you walk in, making him preen under the attention as you gush over how you've missed him <3

ღ hermoso

again, such a sap. soobin's such an amazing person, such a beautiful soul even at the times when he doesn't think he shines as much as the others :( showing him off to your friends, bragging about him all the goddamn time to the point your friends get annoyed, but how could you not show him off?! or even just gushing about a picture he posts on social media (he sent it to you already before he posted). "how can you be so perfect?! tan hermoso!" you swoon, holding the phone to your chest dramatically as soobin sputters and tries to point out that you've literally already seen it.

beomgyu

ღ guapo

beomgyu who just wants to hear you praise him sometimes, so he's adored getting called guapo ever since you told him that it means handsome. whining and pouting when you get mad or scold him, tugging on your sleeve and trying to make you forgive him because "i'm your guapo :(" and obviously it works bc he's horrible and you're weak. sitting at the sofa and beomgyu craves affection, sighing loudly and spreading himself across your lap. laughing lightly at his antics and running your fingers through his hair. "hola guapo," you hum, making beomgyu grin, "hi ^-^"

ღ flaco

he's so "mi flaco" coded shut up, or "flaquito". you literally cannot argue with me on this one i feel it in my bones. the more light-hearted one out of the two that he likes to get called, because yeah he is skinny lmao but also because the word just sounds cuter than what it actually is. the two of you being a lovesick mess, pinching his cheeks and having him smile through the pain as you tell him all kinds of sweet and sappy bs. "mi flaquito tan chulooo," and all he can do is smile and take it (it hurts so bad but he loves it).

taehyun

ღ mi vida

mi vida because he literally is my world, my life, my everything. it has the same effect as mi amor but like appropriately more dramatic. flustering him and mumbling the words "mi vida" into his skin, kissing his knuckles because sometimes it's nice to just smother tyun in adoration. taehyun trying to repay you for the sweet nickname, making google translate repeat the words to him over and over again so that he can surprise you. cuddling in bed, his head resting on your chest."soy tu vida," and he says it so softly that you don't think you heard him right til he looks up at you with bright eyes and a grin because he said it correctly (although a little broken). prompting an onslaught of praise and giggles because yes he is my tu vida :(

ღ chikibaby

oh he loves it, absolutely adores it. honestly i was torn between giving this to tae or kai, but i see taehyun just loving the hell out of it. chikibaby's so silly, it's so unserious but it's so cute. whereas the other members would probably whine, taehyun takes chikibaby in stride. it's such a contact name, he'd definitely make it his contact name in your phone (with plenty of hearts!!!). with taehyun in specific i get a lot of cute aggression, so i definitely see the cuddling in bed until you end up on top of him, taehyun desperately trying to dodge your hands squishing his face as you gush over how handsome your chikibaby is <3 oh my god that with his little growl/squeal/scream too cause he knows you're just being playful, i'm dying.

hueningkai

ღ querido

yeah, this is the one. calling hueningkai darling hits in any language tbh :( hueningkai leaning his face into your palms, smiling softly and letting his eyes flutter shut as your thumbs smooth over the skin underneath his eyes. "what's wrong, querido?" and really nothing's wrong, he's just tired. he tells you just that, letting you admire him as he melts into the warmth (or chill) of your palms. knowing that you give him such a sweet pet-name makes him feel nice, it feels personal, something that you two can whisper during your intimate moments <3

ღ papi chulo

on the flip side!! papi chulo is something he'd definitely get teased about, both by you and the rest of his friends. the main point of it being the use of "papi" in the pet-name. "but yeonjun gets called papi too!" "that's different" "no it's not!" but it really is, because papi chulo is made to sound so much more endearing than it is adoring. teasing him over the cute photos of him on your phone, mainly ones of him snoring or sulking after losing a video game. when it gets to one of his childhood photos, he hears the words "my mini papi chulo :(" for like three whole minutes. loves it though, it makes him laugh even if it's a little embarrassing in public <3

mini translation section:

ღ papi meaning 'daddy' but more 'my man' in this context, papas meaning potato but also something i see most hispanics call their cute little ugly dogs endearingly

ღ mi amor meaning my love

ღ cariño meaning dear/love

ღ hermoso meaning beautiful/lovely

ღ guapo meaning handsome

ღ flaco meaning skinny

ღ mi vida meaning my life, i use it more in the context of 'my everything'

ღ chikibaby as a term of endearment derived from the words 'chiquito' which means small and 'baby'

ღ querido meaning darling

ღ papi chulo translates into handsome daddy LMAO, but it's used endearingly in this context, more towards 'my pretty boy' but like, sexy (i can't take myself seriously)

#txt x reader #txt scenarios #txt headcanons #txt fluff #hispanic reader #gn reader #feel good #this made me really soft #this was so self indulgent and i don't regret it aaaaaa #typing on laptop kills me cause i can't use emojis

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makeitmingi · 8 months

Text

Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 18]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.3K

Chapter warning(s): Mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, crying, psychological vulnerability and alcohol consumption.

The boys didn't say anything when you and Mingi arrived at the dorm. Maybe they didn't want to bombard Mingi, knowing he was going through a lot. Or maybe they noticed that your eyes were red, showing that you had cried as well. Whatever the reason was, they didn't pry or question.

"Where's Haneul?" You asked, turning to them after you saw Mingi enter his room.

"She's sleeping on my bed." Hongjoong informed. You just had to see her so you went into the room, leaning over her sleeping figure. With a soft smile, you inhaled her scent and kissed her head.

"I hope she didn't give you too much trouble." You told the others.

"No way, she's a great kid. No trouble at all." Wooyoung hugged you. You smiled and wrapped your arms around him.

"I'm sorry to the rest of you for just dropping her off here like that." You bowed to the others, who might have found it strange that a random kid showed up.

"Don't apologise. You did it so you could go support Mingi hyung." Jongho reasoned.

"I don't know if Hongjoong and Wooyoung told you about her..." You looked to the two. Wooyoung and Hongjoong shook their heads.

"We didn't think that it was appropriate for us to say anything. Or rather, we didn't know what you wanted us to share." Hongjoong explained. At this point, you guessed that the rest at least knew that Hongjoong and Wooyoung knew about Haneul before them.

"I-Is she your child?" San raised his hand to ask before you could tell them. You choked, not expecting that from him. Yunho used his hand to cover San's mouth.

"No, Haneul is not my child. She's a child under my care and she has been since she was born 4 years ago." You started.

"But she doesn't live with you? How did you meet her?" Yeosang asked.

"She's actually my cousin. I wasn't going to let her parents put her up for adoption but I'm not qualified to adopt her. So she stays at an orphanage outside of the city." You said.

"Orphanage?"

"Yeah. The lady there helps me take care of her. I send the money to make sure she is well taken care of and that she goes to school. In return, she doesn't get adopted..." You said.

"Can she do that? To have a child there that is not adoptable?" Seonghwa tilted his head.

"No... So I'm grateful that she is doing this for me. That's why when she was going to the hospital and another government representative was coming, Wooyoung rushed down to help me pick her up. She's been staying with me temporarily, that's why I had to start working from home." You explained.

The boys all listened to you intently as you told them about Haneul and how Hongjoong has been working with you in your home and Wooyoung helping you care for Haneul.

"It's cute. Haneul is my sister's name." San smiled softly. You nodded, happy to share that coincidence with San.

"Wow, it must not have been easy doing all that on your own." Yunho said.

"Everything I do, it's all for her. At the end, knowing she benefit from it, makes everything worth it." You smiled. They all nodded in agreement, understanding you.

"She's a great kid."

"You raised her well." The boys all complimented. You felt your cheeks heat up, thankful your mask covered your embarrassment.

"It's late, I shouldn't impose on you guys anymore. I'm sure you've all had a tiring day." You bowed.

"Why don't you stay the night? Come on, Indigo, you should know that you're not imposing on us at all. We're all family here. And you also dealt with a lot today." Seonghwa held your hand with a soft smile on his face.

"Besides, it's late and Hanuel's asleep. It won't be easy to go back, having to carry her on your own. It's might not be safe." Hongjoong added, backing the oldest up. You contemplated it for a while.

"But I don't want to take any of your beds." You sighed. Plus, you knew if you took Hongjoong's bed with Haneul, Seonghwa might not sleep in the same room.

"Just take my bed with Haneul, I usually sleep on the couch anyway." Hongjoong insisted.

"I'll stay in the room with you if you're unfamiliar." Seonghwa smiled. You nodded, glad that you weren't chasing him out of his own room.

After everyone went to bed, you went to Mingi's room. He was still awake, laying on his bed as he scrolled on his phone absentmindedly. But he sat up when he saw you.

"Can I come in?" You asked.

"Of course." He nodded. You stepped into his space, closing the door behind you. Mingi looked at you, you were in Wooyoung's clothes, sweats and a big shirt. He slid to the side of the bed to let his legs dangle off the edge. He patted the space next to him and you climbed into the bed.

"Please don't treat me like I'm fragile..." Mingi said, letting his head fall onto his shoulder.

"I won't. I just wanted to see if you were okay." You whispered. It was selfish to say but you were doing this for yourself, to ease whatever feeling you had in your chest.

"I will be..."

"I know the spiralling darkness doesn't go away so easily but I'll be here with you to chase it away. The others too." You replied.

"You know, I always want to take care of people, to be accepted by them. But somehow, it always ends up with them taking care of me." Mingi sighed.

"You don't have to take care of them for them to accept you, Mings. They'll accept you for who you are, the real person that you are. There's nothing wrong with needing care from other people." You reached up to stroke his head.

"Look at me. All 8 of you took care of me when you barely even knew me. I never knew what it was like to be cared for before I met all of you. Which is honestly pathetic, right?" You chuckled bitterly.

"Don't say that. You're not pathetic." Mingi lifted his head, turning to you with a frown.

"Thanks, Mings." You laughed.

"It's not your fault..." Mingi argued. He didn't need to finish his sentence for you to know what he was going to say 'it's not your fault that your parents didn't care'.

"We're your family now. And we care about you. I care about you." Mingi stated firmly.

"And while I appreciate that greatly. There's still a fear I'm feeling. I don't want to get used to all this." You said.

The reality is that Ateez are idols that are growing in popularity. They're going to have to prioritise their careers over everything else, it was normal. They aren't always going to be around. Plus, you're not from KQ. One day, you'll leave and go back to working underground or with other companies.

"I know that fear, the fear that the future will change and that we're not ready to face that change. But we won't change, Indigo. Ever." Mingi squeezed your hand.

"Goodnight, Mings." You patted his head. But before he could let you go, Mingi placed a kiss on your forehead.

"Goodnight." He wished. You walked out to see one of the dining area lights on. Yunho sat there, eyes glancing over at you as you emerged from Mingi's room. The sofa area was dark as Hongjoong slept.

"Yuyu, you're still up?" You asked.

"Couldn't sleep. Is he okay?" Yunho asked back, not even reacting to you being without your mask. You nodded, knowing 'he' was Mingi.

"Sit." He gestured for you to take the seat on the bench next to him. He had a glass with ice and soju in front of him.

"Can I pour you a drink?" Yunho held the soju bottle up. You usually wouldn't drink but you felt like you needed one so you held the spare glass up for him to fill.

"Cheers." You and him clinked your shot glass with his taller glass before downing the bitter alcohol. He reached over to fill your shot glass again. The two of you just sat there in silence until Yunho let out a long, deep sigh.

"You know, I'm glad Mingi has you now too. To be there for him." Yunho said, sipping his soju.

"Mingi doesn't express himself well. I know what he's thinking and feeling because I've known him for so long. But he always finds it hard to connect with people." He continued.

"You're a good friend, Yuyu. No... you're a good brother." You corrected yourself, drinking your shot.

"We rely on each other as best friends but there's always more I want to do for him. I just never know how." Yunho said.

"I don't think you need to do more or feel like you need to do more. I'm sure Mingi is grateful just for you being there with him. He got this far thanks to you. You brought him out of his shell."

"Thanks for saying that..." Yunho smiled softly.

"You shoulder a lot on your own. It must be tiring." You turned to him. You know that Yunho always maintains a happy smile and positivity around his members. He never really lets himself get angry with anyone. He's always attentive to how the members are feeling and knows how to care for them.

"I hate seeing him like that, knowing I can't get rid of the darkness." Yunho confessed, taking another sip of alcohol. You hugged Yunho to comfort him.

"They all mean the world to me." He pressed his eyes into your shoulder.

With moments like this, you really see the vulnerability that each member had. The self that they hide behind their guarded walls. They all had their own share of darkness that they hide from each other.

"But now, Mingi has you to rely on too. It's good that he trusts you to open his heart." Yunho said.

"Yuyu..." You were feeling conflicted.

"I'm not saying it just to put pressure on you. Call me selfish and self centered but knowing he has another person to share his feelings with takes a weight off my shoulders. I want him to be able to lean on other people too." Yunho lifted his head to meet your eyes. You shook your head, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"You're not selfish or self centered. You're far from." You denied. Yunho was too precious and compassionate to be selfish or self centered. You couldn't even fathom someone seeing him as such.

Yunho didn't say anything else, lifting his glass to finish the remaining contents. You did the same, downing whatever was in your glass.

"You must have been scared when you heard that Mingi was missing." Yunho spoke.

"I was... He was fine when we spoke on the phone so when Hongjoong called. I thought something happened to him." You felt the wave of emotions again as you remembered.

"I know..." Yunho hugged you this time, holding you. You clenched the material of your pants, willing yourself not to cry again.

"That feeling... I've never experienced anything like it before. It wasn't just fear and worry... I didn't know how to react, I didn't know what was going on. I didn't even think that it was his anxiety." You choked, swallowing your sob.

"Shh... Don't remember it." He whispered.

"All I thought was, did someone hurt him? Was he hurt somewhere? Where was he?" You cried, letting the overwhelming emotions take over.

Yunho continued to hold you tightly yet gently to comfort you. He was worried that you would give yourself a panic attack, remembering and recounting the events of the day.

"It's okay. He's okay." Yunho assuringly repeated, rubbing your back as he hushed you.

"Sorry. I wasn't going to cry again." You wiped the few strays tears that managed to spill with your fingers.

"No, it's okay." Yunho took a tissue to gently wipe your eyes.

"When Mingi starts getting in his head, he can spiral quite quickly. His anxiety attacks hit hard." Yunho explained with grim expression.

From the way he spoke, you knew that Yunho must have been there and seen through many of Mingi's panic attacks and anxiety episodes. You can't even begin to imagine what that must be like, to see your best friend, a brother, go through that. And not be able to do anything about it.

"When it started happening, we were all scared. There was a point where he couldn't even step onto the stage. And we thought that was it, his career as an idol was over." Yunho gulped.

"But he got better with the support from all of you." You said.

You and Yunho shared that moment, only going to bed before the sun rose. You climbed into bed with Haneul, careful not to wake Seonghwa.

"Bunny shape!" Haneul's loud giggling was what woke you. You sat up, looking to see Seonghwa's bed empty and Haneul gone.

"Haneul?" You scratched your head, coming out.

"Indigo!" Yeosang's eyes widened when he saw you, dropping the television remote in his hand. He immediately held his hand ups in front of your face. You blinked, stepping back at him suddenly pushing you back into the room.

"Y-Yeosang! What's wrong?"

"Go, go." He walked you back into Seonghwa and Hongjoong's room, ignoring your protests and questions.

"Indigo! You're not wearing your mask! Did you forget that you're not at home? Stay here, I'll get you one." Yeosang asked, brows creasing together in worry.

"Yeosang, it's okay." You held onto his arm as you laughed, realising what he was panicking about.

"It's fine. Thank you." You smiled softly. Seeing you actually smile for the first time at him made Yeosang smile too.

It made you melt. It showed how the boys actually respected and cared about your preferences and privacy. But you trust them, they know about Haneul so what's wrong with knowing your face?

"Good morning." You stepped out to the kitchen. All the boys in the kitchen froze, eyes widening.

"Unnie!" Haneul was the only one that greeted you brightly.

"We're making pancakes. I helped!" She grinned from her spot on the stool next to Seonghwa and Wooyoung. Wooyoung continued flipping the pancakes, not phased by the shock like the others. You walked over to give Haneul a hug, leaning over to pat her butt lovingly while she giggled.

"You smell like old soju." Wooyoung crinkled his nose, making you punch his arm. You went to wash up and brush your teeth. Since you didn't have a comb, you just used your fingers.

"Why are you not shocked, Jung Wooyoung?" Seonghwa jabbed the younger's side.

"You've seen her without her mask before?" San asked.

"Yeah. When I first went to pick Haneul up and she told me everything." Wooyoung shrugged. That was when Jongho noticed how unphased Yunho was as well.

"Yunho hyung, you know too?" The maknae asked the taller male. Yunho nodded slowly.

"I saw last night." He informed, not giving anything else away or what you guys talked about. He turned back to the bacon that he was cooking in his own pan. Mingi was the last to enter the kitchen, yawning tiredly and leaning on his best friend.

"What's everyone talking about?" Mingi asked as he noticed how everyone was acting weird.

"You'll see..." Hongjoong sipped his juice. He took a yoghurt out and offered one to Haneul to eat. Mingi frowned, tilting his head in confusion at the captain's words.

"Oh, Mings. You're awake." You came to the kitchen.

"Mhmm..." Mingi nodded.

"Wait! You know too?!" Yunho turned to look at his best friend with a betrayed look on his face.

"Know what?"

"You know what Indigo looks like without her mask." Yunho further explained. Mingi looked at you then back at Yunho before nodding his head in confirmation.

"He was the first to know. He knew before me." Wooyoung revealed. You knew he was referring to the incident at song camp where you let it slip that Mingi has seen you without your mask. You sighed, going to Haneul, who was still entranced by the pancakes Seonghwa was flipping. She held her yoghurt tube out to you.

"Thanks, baby. But I'm good. Go ahead and enjoy it." You smiled as you wiped the yoghurt off her lips.

"Actually, Mingi knew from Day 1. Like the day I entered KQ, he knew what I looked like under my mask when he entered my studio, thinking I was Hongjoong." You chuckled.

"Yah! Mingi ah, how could you just intrude?" The scolding voices started as all 7 heads whipped to Mingi, who held his hands up.

"It was an accident! You said you forgave me!" Mingi whined in a yell.

"Oppas are silly." Haneul giggled. You laughed, nodding in agreement. After the pancakes, Seonghwa made a big batch of scrambled eggs for everyone.

"This one is mine. Seonghwa oppa tried to make it a bunny." Haneul pointed at the plate while she giggled. It didn't really look like a bunny but you knew Haneul was being nice and she appreciated the effort Seonghwa put into it.

"Seonghwa omma." Wooyoung corrected, making Seonghwa kick him.

"Yah, no violence in front of the kid. Indigo won't like that Haneul thinks it's okay to go around hitting people." Wooyoung deflected the oldest's kick.

"Judging by how Indigo punched you earlier, I think she's fine." Yeosang chuckled. You shrugged but nodded.

"Can I have another yoghurt too, unnie?" Haneul turned to you, pointing at Hongjoong who was taking another yoghurt tube from the fridge.

"But we're going to eat pancakes and other breakfast foods soon. If you're still hungry after, you can have another yoghurt." You said, glaring at Hongjoong. He pouted, slowly putting the yoghurt back.

"Have to set a good example, hyung." Jongho teased. Hongjoong grabbed Jongho by the collar.

"Haneul, this is Mingi oppa." You carried her onto your lap for her to meet Mingi, realising she met everyone except Mingi yesterday. Mingi gave a tiny wave. Haneul tilted her head, frowning slightly as she focused on Mingi. Mingi grew awkward under the 4 year old's analytical stare.

"Hakuna matata!" Haneul suddenly yelled, pointing at Mingi. Now it was time for you to be the confused one. Mingi nodded but looked up at you, also not understanding what was going on.

"Ah! Because she watched 'Wave'." Wooyoung snapped his fingers.

"Oh yeah... You remember him from the video, baby?" You asked. Haneul nodded her head excitedly.

"So smart." Mingi smiled, ruffling her hair. Haneul was immediately distracted by the accessories on Mingi's hands. She toyed with the rings and bracelets.

"Time for breakfast. Everyone in your sit." Hongjoong and Seonghwa said. Everyone helped to bring the plates and food to the table.

"Come, Haneul. You can sit with me." Jongho said. She ran over excitedly and he lifted Haneul onto his lap to sit. You were surprise at how close Jongho was with Haneul, unaware he was a fan of kids.

"Where's my bunny pancake?" Haneul looked around.

"There you go." Seonghwa handed her the plate.

"Thank you for the food." She chimed, making everyone praise her. Haneul was fine without you. You saw Jongho cutting the pancake up for her to eat. San gave her some eggs and fruit too, making sure she wasn't just pancakes drowned in syrup.

You smiled seeing her with the boys. It was like your two worlds meeting and getting along, telling you that everything was going to be fine.

Series Masterlist

#kpop #kpop series #kpop scenarios #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez series #ateez mingi #ateez x reader #idol!ateez #song mingi series #song mingi scenarios #song mingi x reader #song mingi #mingi #mingi series #mingi scenarios #mingi x y/n #mingi x you #mingi x reader

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thetaoofzoe · 2 months

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‘It Was Fun to Be Wanted by Someone Like Elvis Presley’: An Interview With Darlene Love

The gifted singer reflects on Elvis’s collaborative presence and his relationship to gospel music

by MICHAEL MUSTO August 7, 2018

The swaggering real-life Jeff Koons statue named Elvis Presley is hot again. Eugene Jarecki’s June-released documentary The King involves a road trip taken in Elvis’s old Rolls to survey his impact on the culture and determine that the American dream the singer represented is officially dead. (But oh, when it lasted!) Even darker is the film’s exploration of Presley’s appropriation of African-American culture, covering songs like “Hound Dog” — originally a non-hit for the brilliant Big Mama Thornton — and making them rock and sell. For singers like Thornton, the American dream never existed.

Enter powerhouse singer Darlene Love, who is represented on another new project, Where No One Stands Alone, a fourteen-track compilation of Elvis’s gospel work due out August 10 on RCA/Legacy. The L.A.-born minister’s daughter started singing in the church choir at ten, on the road to being scooped up by producer Phil Spector to belt hits like “He’s a Rebel,” “Today I Met The Boy I’m Gonna Marry,” and “Christmas (Baby,Please Come Home).” The lead voice of such groups as the Blossoms and Bob B. Soxx & the Blue Jeans, Love ended up working as a maid in the Eighties, but when she heard one of her old hits on the radio while she was scrubbing, it inspired her to get back into performing full-time. Her appearance in the Oscar-winning 2013 documentary 20 Feet From Stardom was memorable, especially when it addressed the way Spector promised her a solo career, but gave other singers credit for her work.

I recently talked to Darlene about her backup singing for Elvis, and how she feels about the King’s relationship to the music he both co-opted and celebrated.

Hi, Darlene. What is some of the gospel work you did with Elvis?

There is “Let Us Pray,” the one from the movie we did with Elvis, Change of Habit. That was his last film.

It was in 1969, with Elvis as a doctor and Mary Tyler Moore as a nun.

We, the Blossoms, are in the first scene. And we were in his 1968 comeback special [Singer Presents … ELVIS].

His new gospel compilation album should be quite interesting.

They [recently] had me do some fill-ins, what we call ad libs, throughout the album to make it sound more gospel. I haven’t heard it yet. Hopefully it’s a wonderful thing.

Elvis went to church and listened to gospel singers to soak up what they did, right?

Even today, it’s more mixed than it was in the Fifties and Sixties. Whites and blacks didn’t go to church together back then. What Elvis told me he would do — we had night service on Sunday night when we did what we called “praise songs.” A lot of them were songs he loved, what we called “hymn songs.”

We didn’t have air conditioners. We had pushup windows, with a little rope. Elvis said he would stand outside the church rather than going in, because they didn’t think black and white should be in the same churches together. He said he would listen through the windows. It gave him such a thrill. It’s a big difference between the way blacks sang gospel and the way whites sang gospel.

Do you feel he was dedicated to the music or he was just taking it for himself?

I found out years later, when we were doing the comeback special, that his mother’s favorite music was gospel. He would always sing gospel around her. I think if he could have had a big career in gospel music, that’s where he would have been. But you can always make more money off secular hits. Elvis had 10 or 15,000 people come to his shows to see him. Today, they have mega churches that hold 25,000, but back then, you were doing great if you had 500 people.

I bet they have air conditioning now.

Oh, lord, yes. [Laughs] I lived in Texas for five years as a young kid with my father, and it was so hot we couldn’t even breathe. There was no air conditioning in church or the house. What a difference it makes to have a cool ensemble. You still sweat because of the energy, but back then, we were soaking wet, when we sang in church.

I love gospel music. If I had a calling — meaning from the Lord — just to sing gospel, I would have, but the secular music got to more people. I bet a lot of secular singers like Sam Cooke and Aretha Franklin felt the same way. They never paid us no money. “Do it unto the Lord.” “OK.” [Laughs] We would drive to the gigs and they’d give you an offering — gas money. They were hardly giving us a whole lot of money. But it was worth it, every penny of it. It was a wonderful experience singing gospel.

But was Elvis appropriating the music, or that’s just the way it was?

That’s just the way it was. A lot of people think a white person is copying the black person. He just loved the music and he was singing it the way he felt. He sang “Hound Dog” completely different than Mama Thornton. [Elvis’s version was rock, whereas Thornton’s was blues.] Even today, they take secular music and put it in gospel, and vice versa. You know, Elvis won three Grammys, and they were all for gospel records.

What were your experiences like with Elvis?

One time, Elvis decided we’d all go to the movies. He bought this theater out that night.

What did you watch — Change of Habit?

Don’t even ask me. I don’t remember. [Laughs] We had a lot of free time when we were recording and when we were making the movie. That’s when the Blossoms and myself got a chance to know the gospel side of Elvis. He’d want to know the songs we knew. He’d get his guitar and say, “You know this song?” “Yes, we grew up on it.” He’d say, “Let’s do it.”

Was he funny or serious?

He was funny and he was serious sometimes. If he didn’t think he was doing great, he’d say, “Hey, girls, how’m I doing?” He was very, very funny. I call it that “country funny.” He would do his moves in the studio the way he was gonna do them onstage. It made it easy to be around him, but sometimes it was not easy because his bodyguards were keeping people from him. He wanted to be with the Blossoms, where he could pull out his guitar. We’d say, “We think you’d better go. You’re gonna get us in trouble.” We’d never forget, because he’d be giving us his personal time.

You’d just be hanging out and singing?

Yes! Whatever song he knew — “Amazing Grace” or “River of Jordan” or “Heaven Is a Wonderful Place” or “Sweet Hour of Prayer.” We called them hymns of the church. There was another one called “Pass Me Not, O Gentle Savior.” The Blossoms were known for their harmony. We’d harmonize with him. There’s something we had with Elvis that others didn’t have. It was fun to be wanted by someone like Elvis Presley.

He had tremendous respect for you.

Yes, he did. That was great. I always say he left us way too soon. He is where I plan to go one day, so I’ll see him again.

You were all rather young and great-looking. Was there any sexual tension in the air?

There was. It could have been. But I was too scared to do anything.

You fool! [Laughs] Kidding. You wanted to keep it professional.

And I definitely did. Something about dating someone you’re working for, it takes away from that. “I know he’s never gonna look at me the same after this.” [Laughs] He’d start playing with me. He’d tap you on the shoulder or do a hip shake, and me and Elvis knew what that meant.

Flirting?

Yeah, I think so, and I think it showed his human side. I wasn’t bad-looking — and I was thin, too. [Laughs] He wanted to take out time and be around us. The reason we sang on his ’68 comeback special is he was the one that insisted that the Blossoms sing in the music section of the show.

So Elvis treated you better than Phil Spector did?

Oh my God, I’d say so.

That’s an easy one.

That’s a real easy one. Phil took advantage of me and my talent. With Elvis, he wanted us to work, and we got paid well. It wasn’t like Phil Spector cracking the whip and us running around!

#elvis presley #darlene love #black women

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