#your brand of biases will NEVER cease to make me funny

[permanentreverie]

Heyyyyyy bestie!

Occasionally, I have the desire to pop onto Tumblr and attempt to relight the candle within me that still loves this hellsite and longs to return, and apparently this is one of those times. So tonight, I decided to come into your inbox and ask you a random question like old times,,,,, pray to god the ask doesn’t get eaten by the tumblr gods, depraved though the may be,,,,, anyway, here’s a thought, perhaps inspired by my impending SKZ concert (still screaming, crying, throwing up, wanting to eat glass, and commit murder over such a statement. Can you BELIEVE it’s actually gonna happen!!!! This isn’t just the fangirl pipe dream it usually is!!!!):

If you could attend any concert (past, present; not even currently in the works, outside of the majesty of your imagination), what would it be?? But like,,,, top 5 concerts because I know you have too much love in your heart to ever possibly choose just one <3

Also, I’m still exploring ATEEZ but I think it vital you know that I was seriously considering just making hongjoong my bias today and sticking by it, and then I found out,,,,,, he’s the shortest member of ATEEZ,,,,,, it was a joke I love my short kings, but idk how much of a joke it truly IS, anymore. I can’t deny the facts that beyond Namjoon, all my biases are the short ones,,,,,,,

Oh, lol, I forgot to share at least some of my ideal concerts:

Bastille for All This Bad Blood and/or Doom Days

5SOS for Youngblood and/or CALM

BTS for literally anything ever (they could make music with those free sound effects you can use for video editing and I would eat it up 😤😤)

Coldplay for Viva La Vida or Death and All of His Friends

Dvicio for literally any album/era post 2016. (I just haven’t given Justo Ahora enough plays to really get into it the way I currently get down to Impulso, Qué Tienes Tú, and EL LABERINTO)

Special shout out to Hozier, Depeche Mode, The Rose, Backstreet Boys, Billy Joel, Panic! At The Disco, and ONEUS <3. They would also be a dream, but I gotta prioritize at some point, and I might as well mention the less attainable concerts first 😭 rip to my favorite eras of these bands and/or the fact that they’ll never tour by me (dvicio come closer than Mexico City challenge,,,,, it’s hard enough to convince me to cross state lines,,,,)

ma'am I am blessing you kissing you tenderly for sending me this, I have been pondering this these past few days and I'm honestly just getting salty that no artist wants to come to Canada, let alone my province rip. Without further ado, here are my Top 5 Concerts:

BTS (I would agree I would literally not care whatever era, for whatever setlist, but if I have to be 100% honest I'd kill to go to their Love Yourself tour, every fancam I've seen, every performance we've gotten filmed, I NEED!)

Taylor Swift - Eras Tour (there still might be a chance for me to attend. Please miss blondie release the international dates I will commit crime to get hands on tickets)

Agust D (can you believe Yoongi is going on a world tour and going to like 10 countries. Askjfs I get it with his enlistment and all and we're for sure getting concert clips but I WANT TO BE IN THE ROOM WHERE IT HAPPENS!!! Plus I'm 90% we're gonna get Tony Montana with Jimin and I would and will go insane when that happens)

Seventeen - Be The Sun Tour (I got legit post concert depression when this ended and I didn't even attend

Twenty One Pilots - The Bandito Tour (bruh I sooo should have caved and got tickets back in 2018. Every single time I listen to Trench - one of my favourite albums of all time - I constantly think of how amazing it would be to hear live. and then I die a little inside knowing I'll never get the chance)

honourable mentions are: Coldplay, Conan Gray, the 1975, Arctic Monkeys, ONE OK ROCK, Nothing But Thieves, Hozier, NF (again), Stray Kids, The Rose, Bastille, The Weeknd, 5SOS, Chase Atlantic, Panic! At The Disco

[simplechicwithacrazedheart]

Into the Great Unknown (Tom Holland x Spanish Reader

A/N: This may become a series, depending on the reactions! This was inspired by his Instagram story in which he found a dog with Harrison and took him to the vet. It has been so long since I’ve written anything so excuse the bad writing. I think the bit with Tom at the end makes the whole thing worth it, but I am biased. Let me know if you want more of these! Also, I wrote this in one-go, no proof reading.  So sorry for any mistakes. 

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Words: 2,606

[y/n] = your name

[y/s/c] = your skin color

“Babosa” = A Spanish word for dumbass/idiot (female)

*********************************

Thrill. That’s what rushed through her veins when the gate was left open. Her heart no longer pumped the blood that coursed through her, no, no, no. What pumped her blood was the sense of wild adventure that accompanied the Great Unknown. This is pushed her to bolt past the slightly ajar gate when no one was insight. The future was her to take hold and by damn, she was going to take hold of it. She was going to decide her path. She was going to run loose and take it all in.

All by herself.

The sun lowered into the sky, cars passed by. No one batted a single eye as she roamed around trying to take it all in. At least she hadn’t noticed anyone staring. The street lights flicked on chasing away the natural light of the sun. There she was.

Alone in the dark.

Hungry. In the sudden burst of adrenaline that had overtaken her, she had ignored the breakfast that had been prepared for her.

Lost. In trying to take everything in, she had gotten turned around. Everything and nothing looked familiar. The people who walked past her only seemed to hastily walk away from her. Unable to understand her cries for help. Unable to understand that all she wanted was to go home. In the end, she found it logical to lay under a tree and sleep for the night. For not much else could be done.

She awoke with the sun and began her search for the journey home once more.

The attempt was moot and she couldn’t remember the last time she had gone this long without food and the restless night of sleep plagued her mind. She missed her overprotective mother, who smothered her senseless. But, those smothering had made her feel loved. Cared for. It made her forget about how she had been abandoned, left in a box in an alleyway when she was young. These last few hours only brought up those memories. Her heart twisting, whimpers echoing within her throat yet never slipping past her lips. Why had she run out? She had the perfect life. A mother who spoiled her, who brought her ice cream, who let her sleep in her bed, who taught her English and Spanish, who taught her how to love again. Why had she been foolish enough to go out without her, especially when they had only recently moved into a new area?

It was in the series of depressing thought of resentment towards oneself did someone, or some people, approached her.

“Are you lost love?”

***

[y/n] walked down the sidewalk, hands deep in the coat pocket fiddling with the new set of keys and a brand new tag with a grocery bag dangling on her forearm as she hummed to herself, lost in her thoughts. Never had she planned to move out of the neighborhood she was raised in, must less to this section of Kingston. Not that it was a bad area, in fact it was quite beautiful to her, but that was besides the point. The point had been was that she was in a new area now and had a new number. This was a new life and the moment she got to her new home she would update her p-

Few things could interrupted [y/n]’s thought process. Seeing her gate pushed open did not only that but stopped her heart. Feet pounded the ground as she ran past the gate. Maybe the Babosa was inside the house by some miracle or in the backyard asleep under the tree. The backyard was as empty as [y/n]’s lungs. The air escaping her lungs, her lungs themselves burning, pulsing even. Her heart jackhammering against her chest. Keys jammed into the front lock, opening it yanking the door open, the grocery bag dropping to the floor. “Laika?? Babosa! Come here!” Silence. Not even the sound of trotting. Stepping in the house, disbelief coursing through her veins. “Laika! This isn’t funny!” Voice thick, eyes blurring. “Laika!”

[y/s/c] hands grabbed the keys that had been dropped into the bowl on the table stand by the door and ran out the house, barely managing to lock the door behind her.

***

“LAIKA!” [y/n]’s voice was raw, hoarse. It hurt to speak, to breathe, to run. She had been outside for about twelve hours, running around calling out her precious dog’s name. “Laika! Please! Vega pa ca!” (Come here!) She cried. She stopped everyone who even glanced at her. Showing photos of her lost german shepard mix lab until her phone had died. When it did, she would describe Laika down to the little scar along her left paw from when she was abandoned as a puppy.

No luck. That night [y/n] slept on her porch hoping that her dog would find her way back home by some miracle. That perhaps that God would answer her prayers. That all those times when her family would drag her to church Sunday morning would mean that she was in his good grace. That he would grant her this one miracle. She prayed in Spanish, English, and Spanish once more before sleep claimed her.

In the morning, she grabbed her phone from the charger and went out searching once more. She resumed her shouting, using her determination to find the only thing that made her home feel like home, pushing down the tears, pushing down the cold gripping fear that she had been runned over. That she had been stolen. While running around, [y/n] called every pound, every shelter. Her phone dinged and [y/n] unlocked it at the speed of light. Praying that the instagram notification was about her dog.  It had not been. [y/f] had just send her a comment saying to check out Tom Holland’s instagram story. How it would “make her day better”. [y/n] wanted to punch her friend in the face so much at that moment. Seeing some actor, no matter how much she adored his personality, smile, and kind eyes, would not improve her day. Yet, she still tapped over the small circle at the top of her instagram feed. 

“Bit of an odd message, walking around Kingston and we found this dog….so if this is your dog, please let us know we’re gonna take her to the vet to make sure she’s all ok.”

You had missed some part of what Tom Holland had said due to him revealing the dog.

Laika.

Laika was alive.  And wagging her pinche cola (fucking tail). Tears ran down your cheeks as relief replaced the cold gripping fear that you had lost your piece of home forever. It was only after the story ended that you realized that you had no clue which vet he was referring too.

It was a long shot but you had to try. Your finger tapped the “send message” button and you tapped as if your life depended on it, having to correct misspellings due to trembling hands.

I know you have no reason to believe me. But the dog you found is my dog. I just moved to the area so neither of us knows it too well. Please can you tell me which vet you went to? The microchip information is incorrect. She has a scar on the underside of her left paw, about 1/4th centimeters thick and 4 centimeters long. She responds to the name Laika and Babosa, Ba- bow-sa. She responds to both English and Spanish commands. Well, her best trick is the give me paw one. You can have your hands behind your back and say the command and she still understands. You can leave first and then tell me. I don’t give a flying fuck right now. I just want my dog back, I have been looking for her for the past day and a half please. Solo quiero la única cosa que haci me casa sentí como casa de nuevo.

Not having noticed that you had finished the rambling in Spanish, nor that you had rambled you hit send and began calling every vet nearby according to google asking about a german shepard mix lab that had been brought in. Cursing at them, crying on the phone, when they refused to say or if they had not been brought a dog.

Her phone dinged once more and like before she whipped it out at an incredible speed.

Ello. I can’t believe posting a story like that actually worked if I’m quite honest. All of the details you gave proved that she’s indeed your dog. We’ve taken her to Goddard Vet in Kingston.-  

There was more to the message but you opened up the UBER app the moment you found out the vet and called one over to the vet. The drive there felt as if it was an eternity, her heart never ceased pounding despite knowing Laika was alright. She wouldn’t believe it until Laika was back in her arms again.

Bolting out the uber with a quick, “Gracias!” [y/n] ran inside of the vet clinic, running to the counter, panting. Unable to breathe or catch her breath. She opened her wallet and gave the man working the front desk her ID. “Shepard Lab mix. Es mio. Is mine.” She correct herself. “Old information. New number. Was going to update it pero ella se (but she had) disappeared. Por favor.” She begged the man. “Quiero mi perra. (I want my dog) Owner nombre es igual entonces no problema right??” Her English was failing her. What if she came this far only to have her dog denied to her because they didn’t believe her. “Ella tiene,” she pauses at the confused look on the mans face. “She has a escar,” her Spanish accent becoming thicker when speaking English, “on paw left. Very small. Please.” Tears swam in her eyes and the man told her to take a seat.

Despite the dull ache in her legs and feet, she couldn’t sit. She couldn’t relax. She paced the waiting area, her heart pounded, lungs burning, doubt clouding her mind and she could swear that she felt people staring at her. But that was expected, she was pacing around like a mad man.

Hearing nails tap along the tile floor, [y/n]’s head whipped upwards. “Laika!” She managed to shout.

The dog ripped herself free from the vet’s grip on her new leash and bolted to her owner, to her overprotective mama. Laika pounced on [y/n] sending her to the ground and [y/n] didn’t mind one bit. Her grip tightened around her dog, tears rolling down her cheeks and onto the dog’s fur. Laika lick vigorously at the woman’s cheeks and face, tail wagging.

“Porque te fuiste?! Babosa de mierda! Me asustaste tanto. No tienes idea como me preocupa por te. Podría matarte ahora mismo por eso. Nunca vuelvas a hacer eso de nuevo! Me entiendes?!” (Why did you leave? Stupid shit! You scared me so much. You have no idea how much I worried for you. I could kill you right now. Never do that again! You understand?!) [y/n] mumbled into her dog’s neck, stroking the fur along her spine. After a few minutes, [y/n] pulled herself together and stood, not bothering to wipe away the dog fur on her clothing, grabbing Laika’s leash with white knuckles. Looking up she found herself looking into probably the kindest dark eyes she’s ever seen. Cue nerves.

“I’m glad you have found your dog.” A smile graced his lips, making his already thin lips thinner. She blinked for a moment, stunned that he was standing before her. She was at a lost for words. She parted her lips, realized she was going to speak Spanish and corrected herself.

“Thank you. Thank you very much. I owe you everything. She means the world to me. You didn’t have to help her and you did. You even got her checked up on. I can’t thank you enough Mr. Holland. I really can’t.”

“Tom.”

“Pardon?” “You can call me Tom, darlin’.”

A smile passes over her lips, “Thank you Tom.” With her free hand she pulled out her wallet and gave him all the cash she had on her. “This is to pay you back for everything you’ve spend money on. If this isn’t enough, I can write you a check.” Her  hand extended  towards him, urging him to take the money. Instead of him taking the money, his wrapped his fingers around her hand, closing it into a fist.

“I can’t take that. It was my pleasure really.”

“As much as I appreciate that. I can no...cannot accept that. There has to be something I can do. I can teach you Spanish? That way you can defend yourself in Spanish. Know more than tu puta madre.” Her eyes widen and she promptly wanted to kick herself in the mouth. Tom, on the other hand, laughed rubbing the back of his neck. Laika seemed to sense something for she nudged his hand with her hand and he began to pet her without skipping a beat.

“I know a bit more. That’s just my favorite word.”

“Words. It’s a phrase.”

“Is it?” “Si, and it’s a very dirty one. Like fighting insulting one. Not a sexy one.”

“Well, I’d love for you to teach me some Espanol.  But I reckon I’d need your numbero for that. So you can add it to my phono?”

“Telephono.” She corrected him, smiling. Her nervous slowly disappearing the longer they spoke.  She typed her name into his phone along with her number. “[y/n].” She says. “Mi nombre es [y/n] y es mucho gusto a concer te. Nunca crea que yo te iba a conocer, pero paso. Y me encantra a pasar tiempo con usted.” (My name is [y/n] and it is a pleasure to meet you. I never thought that I would meet you, but it happened. And I would love to spend time with you.)

“Well, looks like I’ll need a lesson soon. I understood just about nothing, save for your name. Which is absolutely beautiful. How about a lesson this weekend?”

“Es una cita.” (It’s a date.)

“Cita?” “It’s a deal.” She smiles to herself, grateful that she could cover up that little slip up due to his lack of knowledge.

“I’ll be seeing you around. Behave yourself and be good to your mum.” Tom instructs Laika and he gives her one last scratch behind the ears. “I’ll be seeing you this weekend.” He smiles at [y/n], lifting his hand as he walks away. She waves the fistful of her cash and watches him leave. Putting the money away you hear your phone go off, this time a text tone.

I’m free this saturday around 7pm. Does that sound like a sita to you?

A laugh falls past her lips and she looks at Laika. “He actually thinks cita means deal. I really saved my ass there”

*Cita. And that Works for me. We’ll figure out what you know. Food will be provided. It’s the Spanish way.

***

“You’re grinning like an idiot mate. You got her number?” Harrison questions as Tom buckles in his seatbelt and types away on his phone. The smile only grew at her response.

“Did one better and got a cita with her.”

“Cita?” Harrison questions, eyebrow arched with confusion. Tom feels a smirk pass over his lips and didn’t bother to hide it. “A date. That’s what cita means. You gotta keep up mate.”