Tumgik
#tk!swatch
reyesstrand · 26 days
Text
seven sentence sunday
thank u for the tags @heartstringsduet @sznofthesticks @carlos-in-glasses @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @zitasempri @lemonlyman-dotcom @liminalmemories21 @freneticfloetry @strandnreyes @fallout-mars @theghostofashton @sanjuwrites <3 i actually have a tiny bit of pottery au for you today!
He comes to in inches; errant flecks of his dream pulling him in while the soft echo of the world bustling outside pulls him in another direction. When his eyes do blink open, his whole body moves with it—his fingers flex inward then out, the quilt bunched under his head curled into his fist, his leg kicks out until he feels the stretch in his back.
Sunlight streams through the cracked window, and with it comes the faraway roar of traffic and an occasional bark from an overexcited dog. There’s something else, a closer and softer scratching, that TK can’t place. He groans and sits up, the room and its swatches of fabric and antique masks and handcrafted, half-finished, half-glazed pieces coming a blur around him, and when he finally focuses he spots Carlos, shirtless and golden and sitting at the foot of the bed.
“What’re you doing?” TK asks, sleep-muddled and subconsciously longing for his warmth. Carlos taps the end of a pencil against his closed mouth and moves to instead rest his chin in his hand, smiling at TK through the cracks of his fingers.
no pressure tagging @safeashousespdf @paperstorm @never-blooms @alrightbuckaroo and leaving an open tag!!!!
27 notes · View notes
lemonlyman-dotcom · 10 months
Text
WIP Wednesday
Thanks for the tag @heartstringsduet
Carlos falls in step alongside TK on the trail. They’ve only been hiking for a mile, but TK has already managed to trip over a tree root. Carlos had caught him by the arm, saving him from face planting on the trail. And maybe from bruising his ego a little too.
The trail had started as a moderate climb through a second-growth forest; it opens now into a wide-open meadow. The sun has risen in the sky since they’d started out, a lazy yolk hovering over the horizon. Wildflowers paint the meadow; cotton candy pale blues of Texas bluebonnets, magentas and soft pinks and fiery yellow daisies. They traverse the meadow, taking their time to luxuriate amongst the swatches of flowers. Stopping to examine a cluster of soft pink flowers, five fuzzy petals adorned by a dark red kiss around the pistil. TK is tempted to pick some, insisting they’d look so pretty in a vase in the living room. Carlos, ever the rule follower, insists that they ‘leave nature in nature, TK.’
On the other side of the meadow they follow the trail into the forest, dappled sunlight seeps through the branches of old growth pine and wide oak leaves. The trail is well worn, packed from boots of thousands of hikers past. Carlos keeps an eye out for more exposed tree roots as TK admires the lush forest floor, covered in leafy green vegetation, boulders blanketed in ball moss, decaying logs of long-ago fallen trees. They’re accompanied by a boisterous chorus of birdsong; shrill whistles and sweet tweets, a call and response from across the forest canopy.
They’ve seen deer, fluffy squirrels and even an owl so far. As a family of quail crosses the trail, walking in a single-file line, pointy heads bobbing in sync, TK grabs Carlos’s forearm and squeaks, “ohmigod they are so cute, look at their little heads!”
Carlos is worried TK is a little too eager to immerse himself in nature, “Don’t even think about trying to take one home.”
“But, babe,” TK says, dragging out the ‘a’ sound. “I worry Lou Two is going to get lonely, he needs a friend. Maybe we should get him an emotional support bird.”
“We’re not getting a pet for our pet, TK.”
“Aww, babe, you said our pet, he’s growing on you.”
“It’s like you learned nothing the last time you took a wild animal home,” Carlos says.
After a beat he adds, “I’m checking your pockets for lizards when we get back to the car.”
TK bursts into a belly laugh. Stopping in his tracks so he can lean over and rest a hand on his knee. His eyes are closed and he is beaming, smile bright and dazzling.
“What’s so funny?” Carlos can’t help from smiling, he always feels a spark of pride when he's made TK laugh. Those butterflies in his stomach never quite having gone away.
“I’m just picturing you giving me a strip search in the parking lot,” TK says through another fit of giggles.
Tagging @chicgeekgirl89, @carlos-in-glasses & @lightningboltreader
60 notes · View notes
strandnreyes · 2 days
Note
I just now noticed during the Owen olive oil branch scene, there are little fabric swatches and pictures of flowers on TK and Carlos’ coffee table and I just love that lil detail. And now I’m just spiraling over them sitting there with their teas and going over pocket square swatches and arrangements together every night after work 😭
yeah 🥹🥹🥹
thinking of what happened before Owen came over, how they were sitting on the couch and having a calm (emphasis on calm) night planning their wedding after the day with their parents. and how it felt different than the other times they’ve done it because they were reminded that this is their wedding and they get to do the things they want and they were happy to be doing it with someone who acknowledges their opinion. and then Carlos gets the call from his mom asking to go to dinner, but he tells TK to keep going, to narrow down the color options while he’s gone
they probably had so many nights like that 😭 or days where they were on misaligning shifts and they’d leave little sticky notes on potential options for the other to come home to and find
7 notes · View notes
nancygillianmvp · 1 year
Text
mothers always know
1,416 words. rated t. summary: Andrea supports TK through his grief during wedding planning.
As a child, TK Strand struggled with his parent’s divorce. The family he’d always known coming apart during a time when the once safe world he knew had been thrown into utter turmoil in the fallout from 9/11 was a lot for an eight-year-old to handle. 
Knowing how much her son was struggling with the new family dynamics and changing world he was facing, Gwyneth appointed TK chief planner of her wedding to her new partner, Enzo. He’d sit on the floor as she covered the coffee table of her Brooklyn apartment with flower samples, bridal magazines and fabric swatches, and he’d mark down notes in a binder of her choices.
While he relished the job of cake taster, he didn’t find the same joy in choosing flowers or put the same importance on deciding between all the different but alike swatches for the bridesmaids' gowns as his mother did.
“You’ll understand one day. When we’re planning your wedding, you’ll spend two hours deciding between three near-identical shades of blue, too, Tyler.” 
And it’s not until he’s here in Andrea’s dining room pouring over colour swatches—for what he can’t quite remember, he thinks maybe for pocket squares, but he’s not certain—with Carlos and his soon-to-be mother-in-law that he realises. Oh . He can’t tell her he understands now. He doesn’t get to share this with his mom.
read more on ao3
13 notes · View notes
riritheworld · 9 months
Text
METAMORPH
Setiap fase kehidupan yang kita lalui, setiap tempat yang kita singgahi, setiap orang yang kita temui secara rutin dapat memberikan perubahan pada diri kita.
 Benar atau benar?
Aku lahir di kota Bogor 22 tahun yang lalu. Setelah kurang lebih lima tahun tinggal di sana, keluargaku memutuskan untuk kembali ke kota asal Mami, yaitu kota Medan. Aku dan Mami memutuskan untuk kembali ke Medan lebih dahulu karena Mami sudah menuntaskan studi S3-nya. Sedangkan Bapak masih harus menetap di Bogor untuk menyelesaikan studi S3-nya. 
Bogor dan Medan masih berada di negara yang sama, bahkan tidak ada perubahan waktu di antara mereka. Tapi tentu saja, kedua kota itu memiliki kultur yang sangat jauh berbeda. Rasanya sangat berat meninggalkan kota kelahiranku itu. Aku tidak ingin berpisah dengan teman-temanku di TK, aku juga tidak bisa lagi bermain dengan para tetanggaku, aku merindukan kontrakan sepetak yang kami tinggali dulu, aku merindukan rumah-rumahan Barbie berwarna merah muda yang Bapak buat dengan tangannya sendiri khusus untukku. 
Masa-masa awal tinggal di Medan cukup berat untuk aku yang baru berumur enam tahun. Ketika hari pertama masuk sekolah dasar, aku merasakan culture shock karena semua teman sekelasku memanggilku dengan sebutan “kau”. Pada saat itu aku berpikir kalau mereka membenciku atau aku membuat kesalahan kepada mereka. Hingga selang beberapa minggu, aku akhirnya mengetahui bahwa kebanyakan orang Medan memanggil satu sama lain dengan sebutan “kau”, bukan karena mereka membenciku. 
Tidak banyak memori yang aku ingat semasa SD, hanya memori memalukan saat aku nyaris meninggal karena tenggelam di kolam berenang dan memori kelam karena aku lebih banyak menghabiskan waktu untuk belajar ketimbang bermain. Kedua orang tuaku adalah seorang dosen, sejak kecil orang tuaku mendidikku dengan cukup keras untuk belajar. Pokoknya, sejak kecil aku harus fokus pada akademis. 
Aku yang memiliki banyak teman ketika di Bogor dulu mendadak merasa sangat kesepian semenjak tinggal di Medan. Karena tidak punya banyak waktu untuk bersosialisasi di luar sekolah, aku lebih banyak menghabiskan waktu di rumah sambil membaca buku. Dari situlah minat membaca dan menulisku tumbuh, sejak saat itu aku memiliki cita-cita menjadi seorang penulis.
Keadaan finansial keluargaku saat aku SD bisa dibilang... tidak begitu bagus. Tapi bukan berarti kami hidup kekurangan. Hidup kami cukup, tapi aku tidak hidup bergelimang harta. Setidaknya sampai aku kelas 1 SMP keadaan finansial keluargaku sudah mulai membaik. Meskipun begitu, aku tidak pernah merasa kekurangan ketika SD dulu. Aku juga tidak merasakan kesenjangan sosial antara aku dan teman-temanku dulu. Ya biasa aja gitu. 
Hingga aku akhirnya duduk di bangku SMP saat usiaku menginjak 12 tahun. Di umur segitu, para remaja tengah sibuk dalam mencari jati diri dan berlomba-lomba untuk menjadi orang paling keren di sekolah. Setidaknya itu yang aku rasakan ketika aku pindah sekolah. 
Aku pindah ke SMP yang masih satu yayasan dengan sekolahku saat SD, tapi letak sekolahnya berada di pusat kota Medan. Sekolah ini sering mendapat stereotip “sekolah orang kaya”. Sebagai alumni sekolah itu dari SMP sampai SMA, aku dapat mengkonfirmasinya. 
Pada saat itu, kebanyakan dari mereka menggunakan tas sekolah mahal, jam tangan yang paling enggak bermerk Swatch, sepatu Converse atau Vans serba hitam. Ketika duduk di kelas 1 SMP mereka paling tidak memiliki dua gadget yang mereka bawa ke sekolah, yaitu BlackBerry dan juga iPod yang warna-warni itu. BlackBerry Gemini yang aku gunakan sejak SD tentu saja tidak bisa bersaing dengan BlackBerry Torch mereka. Apalagi iPod, belinya duit dari mana?
Dan pada saat itu aku merasakan sebuah kesenjangan sosial.
Media sosial berkembang sangat pesat ketika aku SMP. Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat, dan Ask.Fm sangat populer dulu. Aku rasa seluruh siswa di sekolahku memiliki semua media sosial itu. Di Instagram lah status sosial seseorang terlihat sangat jelas. Mereka semua seakan berlomba-lomba memamerkan foto mana yang paling swag atau OOTD mana yang paling bagus.
Tapi yang paling bomb dari seluruh media sosial itu Ask.Fm. Di Ask.Fm semua orang berlomba-lomba untuk menjadi selebriti. Ya… kalau di jaman sekarang kayak di TikTok lah. Siswa populer di sekolahku dulu sibuk menjawab pertanyaan anonim yang mereka dapatkan. Biasanya tentang kehidupan pribadi mereka kayak “pacarnya siapa?” “beli baju ini di mana?” “harga sepatunya berapa?” “pap sama [nama pacarnya] dong”. Aku dulu menganggap mereka sangat keren. Tapi kalau menurut aku yang sekarang, mereka itu sok ngartis. Narsis. Kok bisa-bisanya orang kayak gitu diidolain ya...
Masa SMP adalah masa di mana kita sibuk mencari jati diri. Tidak jarang kita bersikap reckless alias gak berpikir panjang sebelum berbuat sesuatu. Jadi ya… antara dua aja sih. Kalau bukan kita yang menyakiti orang lain, ya orang lain yang menyakiti kita. Sebuah rumus kehidupan yang bodoh tapi benar adanya. Tidak jarang ucapan mereka membuat aku tersinggung. But I’m not clean either. Kayak yang aku bilang, kalau bukan kita yang menyakiti orang lain, ya orang lain yang menyakiti kita. Pasti ucapanku pernah bikin orang tersinggung juga.
Terutama ucapan para lelakinya, jujur aja mulut mereka pedasnya ngalahin mulut perempuan. Kalau perempuan omongannya nyakitin disebut ‘lantam’, tapi kalau para lelaki omongannya nyakitin disebut ‘bercanda’ atau kalau jaman sekarang sih disebut ‘bullying’ ya. Thank you untuk kalian teman cowok yang dulu bilang aku jelek, sok asik, alay karena suka K-Pop. Kalian ada benarnya kok. Tapi sampai sekarang aku bingung kok mereka bisa pede banget ya ngatain orang di depan mukanya langsung, kayak dirinya udah keren mampus aja. When in fact they are a bunch of dumb spoiled brats and they’re nothing without their parent’s money.
Waktu naik ke bangku SMA, aku memutuskan untuk masuk ke sekolah yang sama. Pada saat yang sama, mayoritas teman-temanku yang lain pindah ke sekolah lain sehingga waktu SMA aku bertemu dengan banyak orang-orang baru. Lagi-lagi aku mengalami culture shock.
Semuanya terasa berbeda. Aku enggak merasakan kesenjangan sosial seperti yang aku rasakan waktu SMP dulu. Bagaimana mungkin melanjutkan sekolah di tempat dan lingkungan yang sama tetapi memiliki feeling yang berbeda. Apakah ini berhubungan dengan orang-orangnya, atau hanya sekedar mindset bocah SMP? 
Sewaktu SMA aku tidak banyak menghabiskan waktu bersama teman-temanku. Kerjaanku hanya belajar belajar belajarrrr setiap harinya. Hingga aku merasa masa SMA berlalu sangat cepat, tiba-tiba udah kelas 12 aja. Dan saat kelas 12 aku menyadari kalau aku sama sekali tidak memiliki kenangan yang indah semasa SMA. Orang-orang selalu berkata bahwa “masa SMA adalah masa yang paling indah”, tetapi itu tidak berlaku untukku. Aku melewatkan banyak kenangan indah bersama teman-temanku dan aku lumayan menyesalinya. Karena belum terlalu terlambat, aku mulai banyak bermain dengan teman-temanku di kelas 12. Walaupun waktu yang tersisa sangat singkat, tapi setidaknya aku tidak terlalu menyesal. 
Masa SMP dan SMA memang terasa seperti neraka, tapi masa kuliah terasa seperti terlempar ke dunia antah-berantah. Setiap detiknya pasti ada culture shock baru, sampai-sampai otakku langsung bereaksi “hah?” alias TOO MUCH INFORMATION
Aku masuk kuliah jurusan farmasi. Jurusan yang aku pilih dengan modal cenayang dan kesotoyan yang kebetulan cuma jurusan ini yang direstuin orang tuaku so i took that as a win-win solution. Masuk ke jurusan ini dengan modal nekat di antara makhluk antah-berantah ambisius lainnya membuatku langsung merasa seperti, “Okay, let’s take a step back. This is not my place. And COULD NEVER be my place.”. Eh tau-tau keterusan sampai semester akhir dan lulus juga dari sini HAHAHA.
Hampir empat tahun kuliah di sini banyak kejadian aneh bin ajaib yang merubah pola hidupku. Jam tidurku rusak habis-habisan, setiap harinya paling cepat tidur jam 2 pagi karena kebiasaan bergadang mengerjakan laporan praktikum tulis tangan. Rekor paling keren sih tidur jam 4 pagi ngerjain laporan praktikum +20 halaman double folio tulis tangan DAN harus bangun jam 6 untuk masuk kuliah jam 7 pagi.
Kalau ditanya aku ngerti atau nggak apa yang aku tulis, YA JELAS ENGGAK LAH. Sekalian mau buat pengakuan dosa: kalau aku udah putus asa dan stress nyari literatur itu tulisan di tinjauan pustakanya aku ulang-ulang sampai selesai  HAHAHA. Jadi apakah laporan praktikum yang banyak itu efisien atau tidak? Tentu saja tidak. 
Jangan heran kalau manusia di fakultas ini kebanyakan no life, ya karena memang faktanya seperti itu. Pulang kuliah udah keburu sore, sampai di rumah bukannya istirahat langsung nyicil laporan praktikum. Kuliah di fakultas ini membuat intensitas selera humorku berkurang karena kebanyakan gak sefrekuensi sama orang-orang di sini. 
Belum lagi tiba-tiba ikut organisasi keagamaan yang awalnya cuma karena ikut-ikutan teman dan berujung jadi bendahara di salah satu divisi WHEN IN FACT aku orangnya sangat sangat sangat boros dan tidak bisa mengatur keuangan. Apa gak mau pecah kepalaku. 
Tapi di balik seluruh disasters itu pasti ada juga kenangan indah dan lucunya. Jadi yaudah lah ya? Sepertinya yang jelek-jelek cukup ditinggal sampai lobby keramat farmasi aja. Yang indah-indah disimpan untuk diceritakan ke anak dan cucu nanti.
Dari SD sampai kuliah, terlalu banyak hal yang terjadi di hidupku. Terlalu banyak orang yang sudah aku temui. Terlalu banyak perubahan lingkungan yang aku alami, tapi lebih atau kurangnya setidaknya ada beberapa hal penting yang bisa aku pelajari. 
Dari ceritaku waktu SMP, aku belajar kalau aku tidak perlu memaksakan diri untuk bisa fit in. Fuck people. Fuck society. Lakukanlah hal yang kamu suka, selagi itu tidak menyakiti orang lain then fuck their opinion. Kamu tetap terlihat keren di mata orang yang tepat tanpa harus memaksakan diri.
Dari ceritaku waktu SMA, aku belajar untuk lebih menghargai momen yang ada dengan orang-orang sekitar. Karena momen itu tidak akan terulang lagi, dan semua akan terasa berharga ketika orang itu sudah tidak ada di sekitarmu lagi. Yang tersisa hanyalah penyesalan. 
Dari ceritaku waktu kuliah, you’ll find a way when you keep going. Walaupun yang kamu lalui adalah sebuah jalan berbatuan di  dunia antah berantah atau bahkan sebuah labirin sekalipun, you’ll find a way. Kalau berhenti di tengah jalan begitu aja, then it’s really over. 
Untuk semua pejuang kehidupan yang lagi membaca ini, aku harap kalian tetap semangat. Keep your chin up! <3
Tumblr media
2 notes · View notes
huwarokeva · 2 years
Text
Junghans funkuhr mega solar bedienungsanleitung gigaset
  JUNGHANS FUNKUHR MEGA SOLAR BEDIENUNGSANLEITUNG GIGASET >> DOWNLOAD LINK vk.cc/c7jKeU
  JUNGHANS FUNKUHR MEGA SOLAR BEDIENUNGSANLEITUNG GIGASET >> READ ONLINE bit.do/fSmfG
           LED-Digitaluhren für Quarz-, Funk- oder Nebenuhrbetrieb. Modellreihe DC. Gigaset C455 IP. JUNGHANS MEGA MEGA SOLAR W615 D Inhalt Seite 1. H145 Eco Drive Solar Funkuhr mit Weltzeit · Maximilian München Uhr Herren AEG Funkuhr Funkwecker mit 2 fach Projektion FU 4002P schwarz · JUNGHANS MEGA junghans mega solar geht nach junghans mega funkuhr armbandjunghans mega funkuhr 1994 bedienungsanleitung junghans mega alarm 2 bedienungsanleitung 26. kindle Telefon gigaset da810a bedienungsanleitung polar Technisat mf4 s solar 018 bedienungsanleitung junghans mega solar bedienungsanleitung pdf ://taranehs.de/product/junghans-titan---714588-9389217-anVuZ2hhbnMgdGl0YW4=/ /herren-funkuhr-solar---714588-9563245-aGVycmVuIGZ1bmt1aHIgc29sYXI=/Kapsi kapten bedienungsanleitung gigaset Junghans funkuhr mega solar bedienungsanleitung deutsch Kenwood tk-261 bedienungsanleitung gigaset -kunst/junghans-reisewecker-jahrhundertwende-jugendstil-100746462? ://willhaben.at/iad/kaufen-und-verkaufen/uhren-schmuck/swatch-uhr-100746414?
https://huwarokeva.tumblr.com/post/693209810714378240/felder-bf6-41-bedienungsanleitung-siemens, https://huwarokeva.tumblr.com/post/693209810714378240/felder-bf6-41-bedienungsanleitung-siemens, https://huwarokeva.tumblr.com/post/693209751393288192/clx-playpen-ii-bedienungsanleitung-medion, https://huwarokeva.tumblr.com/post/693209751393288192/clx-playpen-ii-bedienungsanleitung-medion, https://huwarokeva.tumblr.com/post/693209751393288192/clx-playpen-ii-bedienungsanleitung-medion.
0 notes
vashtibraha · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Completed my first crochet-covered headband last night. It started out a bracelet I swatched for the Zegue-Along Tunisian Scrap Zapper class that ended yesterday. I added the Tks rows at each end to make it fit the headband. (Also needed to pad up the skinny headband with black foam strips.) It's more comfortable to wear now and looks pretty with my ashy hair color! . #tunisianstitch #yescgoa #crochetclass #crochetswatch #beadedcrochet #diy #diyheadband #crochetheadband #beadedheadband #finishing #Tunisiancrochet #tunisianchevron #tunisianripplestitch #tunisiancrochetersofinstagram https://www.instagram.com/p/Cc8Rz9-L5zJ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
0 notes
loonlynxshenanigans · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
The Boys(tm) as PMD;Explorers-quiz-assigned pokemon. TK!Swatch as Blaziken (With a fire cape and persim band to increase HP and prevent confusion) TK!Spamton as Lucario (With an emit ring and insomniscope to allow fighting/normal moves to damage ghost types and prevent sleep (haha) TK!Rouxls as a Luxio (with an energy scarf and sky bow, to increase PP and. Various other stats) And Jevil as a shiny Monferno (With an ember cap and power band, to afflict attacking enemies with burns and boost attack power)
7 notes · View notes
glowtk · 4 years
Text
Swatch Big Bold X Bape
Mời mọi người cùng chiêm ngưỡng chiếc đồng hồ của bản collab giữa Swatch và Bape tại đây nhé:
https://glowtk.blogspot.com/2020/08/swatch-x-bape-chiec-ong-ho-on-gian.html
Tumblr media
1 note · View note
tkitten16 · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
they're wonky as hell but hey slightly more detailed refs for Lathyrus
1 note · View note
viiavi · 3 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media
GAIA;
Consider this an early Valentine's day present.
30 swatches: 26 in a modified version of TK's Vacation palette + 4 patterns
females: teens - adults
tagged for hot weather
base game compatible
DOWNLOAD (FREE!)
5K notes · View notes
neworleansspecial · 3 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Summary: In need of money, Carlos applies for a job to be the bodyguard of TK Strand. He quickly realizes that he's in way over his head.
Chapter: 2/10 | WC: 2.1k | AO3
<<<Previous | Next >>>
Tumblr media
The drive to wherever TK is taking them is relatively short, only lasting around ten minutes altogether, but TK doesn’t speak a word to Carlos the entire time. Instead, he turns on the radio with the volume cranked up and nods his head along to some pop song that Carlos has heard a million times on the overhead speakers at his last job. When they’re stopped at traffic lights, Carlos sneaks glances at him that he hopes go unnoticed. He’d like to think he’s fairly good at reading people, but he just can’t get a good feel for TK. Obviously he’s stunning, to the point where Carlos already knows he’ll be having dreams about him, but there’s more to him than that. His last few bodyguards are dead, and Strand had said in no uncertain terms that TK is not someone Carlos should cross. 
“Park here,” TK says suddenly.
Carlos slows the car and parks in the indicated spot, directly in front of a large storefront that boasts mannequins in stylish suits. Some of them are sleek and professional in dark greys or blues, while others have patterns ranging from subtle pinstripes to bright florals. The business’ marquee declares it to be a tailor. It’s hard not to flush at the obvious reminder of what he doesn’t have. 
“I can’t afford this,” Carlos says. “I don’t get paid until the end of the week, and all that money needs to go to-”
“Don’t care, didn’t ask,” TK interrupts. “You’re mine, and I like my things to look good. Obviously, I can’t expect you to dress yourself, so I’ll have to do it, and I’m more than able to afford a decent wardrobe for you.”
It takes a moment to fully process his words, and another for Carlos to actually feel offended. By then, TK is already out of the car, straightening his own green and grey button down and smoothing away the slight wrinkles from the ride over. Carlos rushes to get out of the car and jogs over to his side as they approach the entrance to the tailor. 
“I’m not a thing, I’m a person,” he says sternly. 
TK raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you?”
“Yes.”
There’s a moment in which TK quietly considers this. Carlos swallows. He isn’t sure if this is a transgression which may result in his death, or even if TK has a weapon on him. A quick appraisal of his frame reveals no obvious bulges from a firearm, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a small handgun or some sort of knife on him. For a second, Carlos is struck with a vision of his body bleeding out on the concrete. Given the nature of TK and his father, he can only imagine his body would be disposed of rather than given a funeral at which his family could say goodbye to him. 
Instead of any sort of further argument, TK continues walking toward the entrance to the store. Carlos gets the door for him and then follows him into the tailor. The main area of the store is deserted save for a well-dressed salesman, though he can see lead-offs to what he can only assume are changing rooms or storage. 
“TK Strand!” The salesman says cheerily, flouncing over to them with a bright smile painted on his face. “So good to see you again! We got in some new fabrics I think you’d absolutely love.”
“Bring them out for me to see, but first, I need some suits made.”
The salesman leads them both over to a series of artfully crafted wood cabinets and starts pulling open drawers to produce small swatches of busy patterned cloth. “What kind of suits? More information, TK, so I can get you what you need.” 
“Three piece, and I want single breasted, notch lapel coats. They’re not for me, they’re for…”
He pauses and looks at Carlos. 
“Carlos Reyes,” Carlos introduces. 
“...Right. I want him to have at least a few different suits. Start with five, maybe.”
The tailor nods and writes this down in a small notebook. 
“You’ll need to take his measurements. Oh, and that does need to be a rush job. How soon can they be ready?”
Carlos tunes out of the conversation there. He follows the directions of the tailor as his measurements are taken, pretending not to notice the look of distaste at his current suit, and then stands idly by as TK chooses fabrics for the suits he’s buying without pausing to ask for Carlos’ input. He feels like a doll for dress-up. It’s an odd feeling, one that brings him more distress than he’d care to admit. After the measurements have been taken, TK and the salesman decide on fabrics without consulting Carlos. He probably would have left the choice up to them anyways, but not being asked leaves a sour taste in his mouth. 
He won’t admit how relieved he is when TK walks out the door, or when he says they’re going back home. Carlos’ memory is good enough for him not to need directions for this drive, and TK seems more than pleased at this development. Because he doesn’t need to speak, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a silver lighter from his pocket, lighting one immediately and blowing its smoke into the air. Carlos wrinkles his nose at the smell.
“Not a smoker?” TK asks.
“Not anymore.”
He nods and leaves the music over the radio to make up the sound for the rest of the drive. 
When they get back to the mansion and TK snubs the cigarette on the driveway beneath his foot, Nancy gives him an unimpressed look. “Your father is going to kill you for stinking up the Maserati,” she warns. 
TK just rolls his eyes and goes through the garage to an interior door that leads to a space near the grand foyer Carlos entered through earlier in the day. He quietly trails TK through the downstairs area, until they reach a large room populated by furniture that looks both extremely expensive and ridiculously soft, a large flatscreen, and a couple more guards. This place has to be better protected than the White House, Carlos thinks, but that makes sense given the underbelly of Austin that Strand runs. 
“Get me a mineral water,” TK says as he plops down on one of the couches. “They’re in the fridge.”
“I’m not your assistant,” Carlos answers.
TK turns to him and studies his face for a long moment. One of the other guards takes in an audible breath. Evidently, people don’t typically say no to TK. Carlos knows that doing it is stupid, especially given the fact that TK’s track record with his bodyguards is less than stellar, but damn if he’ll lose his dignity. He’s a bodyguard. Not a damn butler, which TK apparently has anyways. 
Finally, TK asks, “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“Your bodyguard, not your servant, and not one of your ‘things.’”
TK snaps his fingers and the guard who had failed to hide his reaction steps forward, handing his gun to TK. Carlos swallows. There’s no telling exactly what TK is thinking right now, though it can’t possibly be good for him. He fights the urge to take a step back, or even run as far as he possibly can. 
“You’ve got balls, Carlos Reyes.”
He raises the gun up and positions it in his hands like it belongs there. The barrel is aimed directly at Carlos’ chest. He won’t cry. He won’t beg for his life. Carlos stares him down, until eventually, TK gets bored of this game of cat and mouse and returns the weapon. 
“You get me one, then,” he says to the guard, who scurries off immediately. “And one for Carlos, too, he must be thirsty.” Then he returns his attention to Carlos and pats the seat on the couch next to him. “Have a seat.”
When Carlos sits next to him, TK is immediately in his space, hands on the collar of his shirt. He deftly opens the first couple buttons, revealing the dog tags sitting against Carlos’ chest. The chain must have been visible. TK takes them in hand, rubbing his thumb over the smooth metal and studying the information. Carlos’ name, his social security number, his blood type, and the religion he was raised in. He doesn’t know if he believes it anymore, but knows that his parents would want him to list Catholicism in case something happened to him. 
“How many tours?” TK asks, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “What branch?”
“Three in the army.”
Using his grip on the dog tags, he pulls Carlos closer, until their noses are nearly touching. This close, Carlos can see the flecks of blue and gold in TK’s green eyes, and the subtle dilation of his pupils in response to something flitting across his mind. He waits like this, the metal chain of his tags digging into the back of his neck, until the guard returns with their waters and TK releases him in favor of taking a drink. 
Carlos uses the moment to catch his breath before taking a sip of his own. He’s not really one for fancy mineral water, but he will admit to being at least a little thirsty. When he’s finished, he sets the bottle on a coaster on the coffee table, though TK just lets the closed bottle rest on the couch against his leg. He flicks on the TV to some mindless sitcom and relaxes back into the couch. He lights another cigarette as he watches and flicks the ashes onto the hardwood floor carelessly. Carlos turns his attention primarily to the TV to pass the time, though he keeps flicking his eyes over to TK to watch him.
He seems fairly engrossed in the program until there’s a loud crashing sound from behind them. A young woman, blonde, has completely frozen in place. She appears to have knocked down a photo on the mantle while cleaning, leaving it face down on the floor surrounded by shattered glass. There’s a sudden fire in TK’s eyes as he quickly makes his way to the broken frame. He picks it up, careful of the shards littering the tile, and studies it. It’s a photo of himself and his father, fairly recent by the looks of it. In it, Owen is wearing a black suit and looking very proud, next to an almost shy appearing TK who seems uncomfortable with the flash of the cameras on his fair skin. Carlos is taken back by the clear difference between the TK in the photo and the one next to him for the briefest of seconds, until TK’s face twists into something cruel. 
“Clean it up,” he orders.
“I- I’ll go get a broom-” the woman starts, but TK cuts her off. 
“I didn’t say to go get a broom. I said, clean it up.”
She slowly sinks to her knees and begins picking up the larger chunks of glass, which cut easily into her skin despite her obvious care. As the red runs down her palms and tears begin to cut paths down her cheeks, Carlos grits his jaw. 
“Come on, sir, it was clearly an accident. Don’t make her do this.”
TK’s eyes flash in anger. “Fine then. You can help her clean.”
Before Carlos can figure out if he’s serious, and if so, whether to obey, Owen Strand comes down the staircase, flanked by his usual guards. He takes in the situation, eyes darting from the woman, to TK, to Carlos, and around the circle again. 
“Go get those cuts taken care of, Beth,” Strand says. 
His orders outrank TK’s, so she scurries off to do as told, leaving the mess in place, now with splatters of her blood mixed in among the glass. TK rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to Carlos. “Clean it up,” he orders him.
“You don’t have to,” Strand says. “I’ll have someone come take care of this mess properly.”
He approaches TK, uncaring of the glass beneath his feet, and cups TK’s jaw in one hand. TK turns his face away from the touch ever so slightly and casts his eyes to the side, pointedly refusing to look at Strand directly. Carlos files this information away for later. Unfortunately for TK, Strand doesn’t seem to appreciate the expression of disapproval and brings up his other hand as well, so that TK’s face is trapped between his palms and he can’t ignore him. 
“Beth is a good maid,” he chastises. “If you really need to take out your stress, there’s someone in the basement that I need to dispose of anyways. Have your fun there.” He pauses and glances at Carlos, assessing him as if to decide if he can still trust him. “Bring Reyes with you, just in case.”
TK steps back, regaining his freedom from his father’s touch, and considers this for a moment. “Yeah. Okay, sure. C’mon, Carlos- you’re in for a treat.”
18 notes · View notes
Note
40 + tarlos? :)
I’m in a weird wedding mood today???
When TK moved in with Carlos, he had made a deal with his dad that they would still get together for dinner once a month. Carlos tagged along from time to time, but he usually let the Strand men have some father/son time without any intrusions.
But this week Owen insisted it be the three of them. Why? Well he and TK had had finally picked a wedding venue, and Owen continues to be the most excited about the planning and details. So that’s where they currently find themselves. After dinner coffee, a layout of the venue in the center of the table, a tablet with photos of the location, and fabric swatches “to get some ideas for the color scheme”. 
“Dad! They can’t move it! It’s a friggin’ lake!”
“I know TK it just would have been nicer over here, so when you said your vows on the dock, you’d have the sunset behind you in the photos.”
Carlos smirks into his coffee, and lets the two of them argue. He’s happy with anything as long as TK is at the end of the aisle. 
“Alright what’s the plan for bad weather? Will that effect the number of people we can invite?”
TK groans, “Dad it’s fine.” 
Carlos reaches out rubbing his back to calm his frustration, “It’s a really huge venue, Owen. It will work with the tents or inside. And they even have a huge hall just for the ceremony that way we wont have to be moving tables around to set it for the reception.”
“Perfect! Thank you Carlos,” he says mock glaring at his son. “Oh! What about the dance floor? You know your old man can cut a rug...”
“oh my god!”
“...and now everyone down here is going to want to do some line dancing.”
Carlos smiles at TK, who shyly looks back, “Definitely some line dancing. It was the first dance we ever shared together.”
Owen looks warmly at them for a split second before some other detail comes rushing to his mind, “First dance! You guys need to pick a song for your first dance.” 
TK just gives up and drops his head to the table, but Owen keeps going, “And shit, you need one for the mother/son dance too! Let me go grab my ph-”
“Father/ son,” TK mumbles into the table.
“-one, and we can listen to some,” and he’s out of the room.
If you ask Carlos what he is most looking forward to, about the wedding planning, he with out a doubt would tell you it was this moment.  
Owen was out of the room for about three seconds before he slowly walked back into the dining room. Eyes wide, jaw dropped, “Father/son dance?” 
TK’s head pops up from the table. Locking eyes with his dad, he shrugs, “Yeah I mean you’ve always been there for me, dad. I love mom, but you deserve this moment way more than she does. I want to share that moment with you. If you want, of course.”
Owen is at TK’s side in an instant pulling his kid into the tightest hug imaginable. They’re speaking quietly together faces tucked into each others’ necks. Giving them some privacy, Carlos gathers the coffee mugs and heads to the kitchen to clean up dinner. 
----------------------------------
He’s rinsing out the last cup when, arms wrap around his waist and a kiss presses to the back of his neck. 
“He’s so happy,” TK quietly says as he hooks his chin over Carlos’s shoulder. 
Placing the last cup in the drying rack he spins in TK’s arms, moving to run his fingers through his fiancé’s hair, smirking at the blush on TK’s cheeks.
TK hides his face in his neck, arms wrapping tighter, “It’s true. He does deserve it more than mom, and I just know I’ll be happier to have those photos with him than with her.”
“You’re so fucking adorable,” Carlos whispers. 
He pulls TK’s face back, and goes in for a kiss. But they’re immediately interrupted with Owen shouting from the other room about the perfect song.
TK groans, Carlos laughs, “Only eight more months.”
“Do you see my father right now? He’ll give us a month to breathe after the wedding, before he’s demanding grandkids.”
“I’ll give you at least three. Now come listen to this song, please.”
121 notes · View notes
nancygillianmvp · 1 year
Text
you taught me how to be loved
1,523 words. rated t. summary: All TK and Carlos want is to plan a peaceful wedding, but danger seems to follow TK wherever he goes. for the @tarlos-week-2022 day 6 prompt 'i'm too young to be a widower.'
‘Hey!’ Carlos shouts over the top of his wedding magazine as TK starts to place his mug on the coffee table before joining his fiancé on the couch in the early morning light. 
‘What?’ TK asks as he hovers the mug over the slither of the table not covered in wedding planning. 
Every surface of the loft is covered in wedding magazines, a rainbow of post-it notes, color-coded binders, carefully curated collages, and fabric swatches. Although TK couldn’t possibly tell you what the swatches are for, he thinks perhaps for bowties but wouldn’t swear to it. They’ve been eating, sleeping and breathing nothing but wedding planning whenever their schedules align. But, of course, TK is happy to go along with anything that makes Carlos happy regarding the wedding. 
‘Not on the table with the wedding binder. You might spill it. Do you know how many hours I’ve spent on this?’ Carlos throws his hands in the air in frustration.
‘Babe, relax. I’ll move it.’ TK says, placing his coffee carefully on the floor by the couch and earning himself a glare from Carlos. 
‘I am relaxed. I just want everything to be perfect for the wedding.’ Carlos says through gritted teeth, but his tone is anything but relaxed.
‘Babe, you’re so tense right now. We’re looking at suits today, and you need to relax so you can enjoy it. So we can enjoy it.’ TK says, rubbing his fiancé’s shoulders.
‘You’re right.’ Carlos admits, his body softening into TK’s shoulder massage.
‘I usually am.’ TK responds with a cocky smirk. Of course, he’s not always right, but he tends to be when it comes to Carlos.
‘I don’t know if I would go as far as to say that…,’ Carlos teases, and they go about their morning, getting ready to leave for the formalwear shop.
keep reading on ao3 or under the cut
‘What’s on your mind?’ Carlos asks TK as they step out of the car outside the store.
What isn’t on your mind might be a better question. TK’s been in his head the whole drive here. And it’s not just because he’s been dreaming of this moment for half his life. Or because he never thought he’d actually be picking a suit to wear to marry the man of his dreams. It’s not even because he’d always imagined his mom helping him pick out his suit and plan his wedding.
It’s because he’s happy , happier than he ever thought possible, and he wants to savour every second of this experience. He doesn’t want anything to ruin this for them, but he can’t help but worry. Sure, Austin is more progressive than he first expected, but it’s still Texas , and he doesn’t mean to judge, but you never really know how people will react to two grooms. 
‘I’m just in my head about how they’re going to react in there. To us being engaged, I mean.’ He admits, somehow, since the engagement, it’s been easier to be vulnerable with Carlos, especially about stuff like this.
‘There’s no need to worry. I had the same thought, and I found this boutique online. They specialise in queer formalwear.’ Carlos says, motioning to a rainbow of suits in the window display. Relief floods through TK’s body, and he starts to wonder why he was worried at all. Of course, Carlos thought of it. Carlos thinks of everything.
They’ve been trying on a rainbow of suits and tuxedos for hours now, and the color variations, different cuts, and fabric choices are starting to overwhelm TK.
‘Maybe I’m just being too picky?’ He asks.
‘You can be picky; it’s your wedding day, and you have to be comfortable in it.’
‘I’m comfortable in a hoodie. If only I could get a formal hoodie...’
‘I’d marry you in a hoodie. Heck, I’d marry you in pyjamas even. But maybe try this one? It’ll make your eyes pop.’ He says, and he hands TK an emerald green suit.
‘This is it, babe. This is the one.’ Carlos says to TK as he steps out of the dressing room for the hundredth time. Ok, so maybe not the hundredth, though it sure feels like it. 
‘I think so too.’ TK tells him, reaching up to wipe a tear from his fiance’s cheek, ignoring the ones trailing down his own.
‘You know, I might just die seeing you walk down the aisle to me in this suit, though.’
‘Ugh, Carlos. I’m too young to be a widower and far too hot.’ And sure, the last part is a little self-indulgent, but he knows Carlos will love it.
‘Don’t be so dramati–’ Carlos says, but he’s cut off suddenly. It’s like the universe is mocking them. A car comes careening over the sidewalk and through the window display, narrowly avoiding Carlos.
‘You ok, babe?’ TK asks as he peels off the suit jacket and rounds the car to check on the driver. ‘Call 9-1-1,’ He shouts to the shocked shop owner, who nods and pulls out a phone.
‘I’m all good, just some glass in my hair.’ Carlos says as he heads for the passenger door.
‘No pulse.’ TK calls out as he opens the driver's door, and Carlos comes around to help him. Together they lift the patient from the car, TK supporting her head. As soon as the patient is flat on the ground, TK commences CPR.
‘There’s a kid in the back seat. Can I take over for you so you can check her out?’ Carlos calls out, opening the door to a terrified toddler still strapped into a car seat.
Effortlessly, they switch places, and Carlos commences compressions. Even in the middle of the chaos, TK can’t help but notice how well they work together as a team.
‘Hi, buddy. What’s your name?’ TK asks the young boy 
‘Tyler.’
‘That’s my name too! Does anything hurt Tyler?’
‘It hurts here.’ Tyler, who is likely no older than 3, says as he gestures to his back. 
‘Can you wiggle your toes for me?’ TK asks, glad Tyler is wearing sandals so he’ll be able to see. 
‘Like this?’ He asks, but his feet remain still.
‘Great job, buddy. Now can you do something really important for me?’ TK asks. He hates lying to patients. Especially to children, but he needs to keep Tyler calm, so he doesn’t injure himself further.
‘What?’ He asks.
‘Can you stay really, really still for me? Pretend you’re a statue.’
‘Ok.’
‘TK?’ Carlos calls out.
‘Can you stay here and stay really still while I check on your mom?’ TK asks, and Tyler says yes.
‘We have a pulse.’ Carlos tells TK as the woman slowly comes too.
‘Fantastic, can you go keep the little boy, Tyler, in the backseat calm.’ TK says and then lowers his voice. ‘I think he might have a spinal injury. It’s imperative that he doesn’t move until EMS can put a C Collar on him.’
It’s at that moment that a siren approaches. 
‘Dude, if you missed me this much, you could have called. Or better yet, not taken the shift off.’ Nancy tells TK as she and Captain Vega step out of the ambulance and rush over to assess the scene.
‘Apparently, the job goes where I go, Nancy. Can you check my new friend Tyler in the back seat?’
As Nancy checks the toddler, TK hands over the driver to Captain Vega, and they’re quick to load both patients into the ambulance. When they’re leaving, Nancy turns to TK.
‘The green suits you, but maybe less blood for the actual wedding?’ As she mentions blood, TK looks down to see the shirt sleeve stained red with blood. 
‘At least it’s not mine this time…,’ He muses.
‘You sure about that dude?’ She asks, and he looks again and, this time, notices the sleeve is redder. He’s cut his arm extracting the driver. As he makes a mental note to clean it when they get home, he's interrupted.
‘Oh no . The binder.’ Carlos cries out as EMS leave and as he picks up a squashed, tire-marked folder from the rubble of the crash.
‘You brought the wedding binder with you?’ TK asks, and he’s not sure why he’s surprised. However, he wouldn’t be surprised if Carlos had the entire thing committed to memory by now.
‘Of course, how else would I compare back to our mood board and top 5 color schemes? And now I’ve ruined everything by bringing it with us.’ Carlos asks, and TK can see every muscle in his body tense.
‘You taught me how to be loved, so I know everything you’ve planned will be perfect, binder or no binder.’
‘I just want everything to be perfect for the day I marry the most perfect man.’
‘Carlos, baby, It’s illegal to marry yourself. As a cop, you should know that.’ TK says with a smirk as he tenderly brushes a stray curl off Carlos’s face. 
‘Be serious, TK.’
‘I am being serious; you’re perfect. I’ll help you make a new binder.’ 
‘You’d help me make another binder?’ TK pulls Carlos close and kisses him passionately in place of an answer.
16 notes · View notes
alivialol · 3 years
Photo
Tumblr media
GAIA TOP
details:
30 swatches: 26 in a modified version of TK’s Vacation palette + 4 patterns
females: teens - adults
tagged for hot weather
base game compatible
***not my creation**
DOWNLOAD: PATREON OR SFS
2 notes · View notes
thelipstickduchess · 5 years
Text
This is a cute little set and on sale! I got it for $15 plus extra off. Heck why not? It has 4 colors that are gems. Goes on smooth and creamy as per usual that you get from Bite.
Sake: dusty mauve. Fave color I’m into atm.
Date: brown-pink neutral. My MLBB.
Tannin: poppy red. Super stunning red.
Nori: deep brown red (swatch tk)
Now I want to wear all my Bite lippies.
Bite all day, everyday.
~Duchess
Bite Beauty Four Little Bites Amuse Bouche Lipstick Set This is a cute little set and on sale! I got it for $15 plus extra off.
3 notes · View notes