#I'm good at it but I'm not GREAT like I am with cooking

[dramaticallytotal]

TDWT Headcanons Pt. 7

Part 1 Last Part

• Leshawna, Cody, Noah, Harold, Sierra, Gwen, Ezekiel, and Duncan have allergies. Leshawna with pineapples, Cody with so many freaking bugs and goat saliva, Noah is allergic to bees, pollen, and dust. Harold has many but most notably crab apples and gummy slugs. Sierra is a little allergic to soy. Gwen is allergic to eucalyptus. Finally, Ezekiel has a slight allergy to peanuts. It's not bad, but he really hates it because he likes the taste of peanuts.

• Noah has so much blackmail on Chris it's not even funny. Mainly, it's embarrassing blackmail because the man has a bad habit of texting Noah his 3 am. thoughts, and they are all so freaking stupid.

One of his favorites was "Do you think Chef would love me if I was worm?"

Followed by

"Do you think he'd love me more if I could cook?"

Then

"Would he love me if I was a cooking worm like that stupid animated rat?"

• New Labels!! We all know everyone gets a label, so I'm either giving them new ones or tweaking their old ones or leaving them the same. We shall go alphabetically.

- Alejandro: The Arch Villain. It's simple and to the point!

- Blaineley: The Gossip Queen. I feel like she should have gotten one despite not being in the season that long.

- Bridgette: The Surfing Hostess. A mix of her original ones, plus acknowledging her being co-host of Aftermath

- Cody: The Drama Geek. A reference to his band The Drama Brothers mixed with his original label.

- Courtney: The Intimidating Overachiever. I just wanted to make it longer XD

- DJ: The Teddy Bear. Why mess with perfection?

- Duncan: The JD. Chris thought it was a clever musical reference, plus it stands for Juvenile Delinquent.

- Eva: The Powerhouse Stunt Girl. Noah made him change it to something positive with the power of blackmail.✨️

- Gwen: Living Goth Girl. Look... Noah was sleeping deprived, and one of the interns was blasting, Living Dead Girl and his half asleep brain thought it was hilarious. Chris's fully awake brain agreed.

- Harold: Uber Geek Bro. Mix of other labels plus his band name.

- Heather: The Queen Bee. Why mess with perfection x 2.

- Izzy: Izz-sane Actress. Chris could not help himself and gave her a pun. Noah made him put the actress.

- Leshawna: The Reality Queen. A nod to her and Tyler's run of reality TV shows. Despite what Blaineley said, it wasn't Leshawna's desperate grab for her former fame. All the shows asked her to guest star, and she did great.

- Lindsay: Her Hotness. A callback to her Admiral Lindsay Her Hotness role. Noah knows it was a fan favorite character arch. Thus, he added it.

- Noah: The High IQ. Why mess with perfection x 3, plus, Noah thinks it will help people underestimate him again.

- Owen: Big O. Chris and Noah just went with Izzy's nickname for Owen.

- Sierra: Obsessive Uber-Fan. It fits, and it makes the cast just believe she is a super fan, and then they meet her and are like "ooooh...you were not kidding about the Obsessive part."

- Trent: Loverboy. Short. Sweet. To the point XD

-----

Bonus:

- Chef: The Chef-of-all-trades. Because he does basically everything and Noah thought it was funny.

- Chris: The Host With The Most. Chris wanted to keep his classic label. (Noah calls him The Host With The Most Issues in his head.)

• When they were making the labels, Noah had to resort to spraying Chris with a spray bottle if he accidentally said something that would be seen as offensive. This morphed into Noah spraying him if he was being a diva, difficult, or just plain dumb.

• Noah immediately clocked Alejandro as too good to be true the moment they were in the craft services tent after being "rescued" by Chris and Chef. How? Because Noah was immediately attracted to him and Noah had bad taste in guys (or so his sisters say). Also, because, hello???? He auditioned to be on a show called Total Drama Dirtbags.

• Also also, Noah seems to attract ...eccentric types of people, and Alejandro chose to sit next to him on the bus. Well, in the seats across from him, seeing as he was sitting with Eva, and she chose the window seat. And he actually talked to him. To Noah, that was a big clue.

• When Noah and Blaineley get introduced to the merge people they each have to sing their own song. Blaineley, of course, songs her song Blaine-rific. Noah sings a parody of the song Roxie from Chicago with worked around lyrics, but he's hoping to spite the producers, and hopes they have to pay royalties or something for his song.

• Blaineley is pissed when she watches Noah's song because he got a costume that resembles Roxie's in the movie version somewhat, and some of the male interns even joined in as his background dancers and singer. He hoped Noelle was freaking proud because he performed the hell out of that song!

• Alejandro is definitely not jealous of all the boys pretending (they better be pretending) to fawn over Noah

• It's another instance of Alejandro being stunned by Noah, then he sees him in the wedding dress and blushes so hard.

• Bridgette and Noah are pretty good friends. They weirdly enough bonded over recipes since Bridgette is vegan, and Noah being Tamil eats a lot of vegan dishes whenever his mother cooks.

• Owen, Leshawna, Noah, Gwen, Alejandro, Courtney, Dj, and Tyler can all cook really damn good. Owen picked it up when he was trying diets, and he has actually lost some weight cooking for himself and his family. He's really proud. (So is Team E-Scope.) Leshawna because her aunties taught her and the senior volunteers at the shelters she helps at taught her too. DJ because of his Momma, of course. Gwen because she wanted to help her mom out, and sometimes, her mom was just so tired after working. Noah because his family sees cooking as a bonding experience. Alejandro learned so he could impress more people, but also his Nana wanted him to be self-reliant. Courtney because she didn't want to have to rely on others when she could do it herself. Tyler is a surprise, but he found out he could cook well when he started cooking for Lindsay for dates.

• Harold burned water once.

• Izzy isn't allowed in the kitchen. She likes to experiment too much.

• In Rapa Nui, when Chris was wearing the super short shorts, all the contestants there screamed in horror, and some even threw themselves to the floor. Noah slammed his face into the closest surface, which happened to be a very chiseled chest. Alejandro hid his face in Noah's hair.

• Chris was not amused at everyone's dramatics.

• I need you all to know that the Rapa Nui challenge isn't even a challenge because they couldn't close the rock fast enough, and Noah got picked up by the condor and taken to the nest. Which means he got his eggs all in the nest at once. Which means he automatically won.

• Chris comes up with a last-minute second challenge that whoever saves Noah gets immunity as well. (Someone save his son!)

• Noah is just trying not to freak out as the giant condor preens his hair like he's one of her chicks.

Next Part

[thyras]

→ of truths & lies

PAIRING → halbrand | sauron x female!elf!reader

WORD COUNT → 5.8k words

SERIES → of sauron & the moriquendi

WARNINGS → angst, sauron being the clever deceiver as always even if it comes with a cost

SUMMARY → after centuries apart, you finally reuinte with your husband, but the man you find is not the man you had once wished for or so it seems.

AUTHORS NOTE → had some time to finish this chapter (which is actually surprising) i am so sorry if you came here for reunion smut, but there is so much plot armor that prevents it. i'm sorry guys, but now things will be rolling and i have something cooking up my sleeve so that we can get that sweet sweet reunion smut.

PARTS → one // two // three // four // five // six // eight

This day began as any other, but the unsettling tremor of the earth beneath your feet sent a chill through the air. It was not merely the shift of stone or soil but something deeper, something primal, that made the very breath of life seem to falter. The stillness that followed, as if the world itself was holding its breath, filled your heart with dread.

You had felt this before. Long ago, in those first days of awakening, when the earth moved in great upheavals and darkness seeped into the cracks of the world. Back then, the beasts that roamed Yavanna’s lands began to change, their forms twisting into something darker, more malevolent. The memory was sharp, like the edge of a blade, and now the same foreboding crept into your soul.

It was unmistakable—Yavanna’s creations were in pain. The trees, the beasts, the very land itself groaned with an ancient sorrow, and as a careful observer, you felt it too. The hurt was not merely external; it reached into the core of you, into the threads that bound you to the earth. It was as if the harmony of creation had been disrupted, its melody replaced by an ominous, discordant hum.

The ache in your chest deepened as you stood there, still and listening, attuned to the unseen. Whatever this was, it was not natural. Something was coming, something that would wound the world once more.

You turned as Mirdania approached, her presence calm and grounding, like a steady light in the growing shadow of your thoughts. She stood beside you silently for a moment, her gaze watchful and discerning. You could feel her unspoken question even before she spoke, the subtle tension in her aura betraying her concern.

“Is something troubling you?” she asked finally, her voice soft and careful, as though she feared the weight of your answer.

You offered her a gentle smile, one that seemed to reassure her but did little to ease the gnawing dread in your heart. “No, I am well,” you said, the words steady but fragile.

Mirdania seemed to accept your response, nodding slightly, but the truth lingered just beneath the surface. You knew what was coming, a storm you had long feared would finally break.

Mairon.

Once, he had been everything his name promised: good, righteous, and kind. A reflection of the brilliance and harmony he sought to bring to the world. But Sauron—the shadow he had become—scorched and burned all that lay before him. His name carried the weight of destruction, and the centuries apart had only deepened your certainty. He had succumbed to the very madness he had once fought to escape, turning away from the light you had once shared.

The promise he had made to you, the vow to return and make things right, to bring you a means to heal the curse that separated you both—it felt so hollow now. Words that had once been a lifeline now echoed with emptiness.

In the centuries since his departure, you had found solace in unexpected places. Celebrimbor, with his boundless curiosity and warmth, had offered you a home within the forge, a place to create and rebuild. Elrond’s quiet wisdom and steady friendship had reminded you of the peace that could come from healing, both for yourself and your people.

What began as a journey of guilt—an effort to mend what had been broken—had blossomed into something more. You had healed not only yourself but also the scars left on your kin. You had brought light back to a people who had suffered for far too long, and in doing so, you had found a sense of happiness and contentment you thought lost forever.

And yet, in the quiet corners of your heart, the shadow of what was coming remained. A part of you still longed for the man Mairon had been, even as you braced yourself for the reckoning with the darkness he had become. 

You loved him. With your whole being, in fact, and each time he came to you in your dreams, it chipped away at the resolve you had painstakingly built over the centuries. You were his weakness, the light he could never fully extinguish, but Sauron—he was yours as well.

The promise of helping him heal, of finding a way to turn him back toward the light, was intoxicating. It stirred something deep within your elven soul, the innate desire to mend, to nurture, to restore. It was a seductive hope, one that whispered of redemption and reunion. But you knew it was also a dangerous game—a fragile, treacherous balance. You had to keep your mind strong and your heart guarded, for to give in could mean losing yourself entirely.

Mairon had loved you with everything he was, with a depth and passion that had once brought light and harmony to your world. His love had been pure, unwavering, and beautiful.

But Sauron coveted you.

And that was what truly terrified you. The line between the two was so thin, so blurred by the shadow that had consumed him, that you no longer knew where one ended and the other began. Was Mairon still there, hidden beneath the layers of darkness, or had he been lost entirely?

That uncertainty haunted you. It made the love you still carried for him both a source of strength and a weapon that could destroy you.

You glance back at Celebrimbor and Elrond, their conversation carrying the quiet tension of minds bent on solving an impossible problem. No doubt, they were speaking of the task you had all failed to complete—the preservation of the elves on these shores. When Gil-galad had summoned you and Celebrimbor to Lindon, shown you the withering tree, and laid bare the dire situation now threatening your people, the weight of it had been staggering.

The gleaming shores of Valinor would remain out of reach, the white ships nothing more than distant dreams. But in truth, you had long since accepted that you would never see them. You were tied to Middle-earth in a way that could not be severed, anchored to its shadows by the love you bore for a being who had become one with the darkness.

Even if the call of the West had been open to you, you knew in your heart you would not have boarded those ships.

Since your awakening, this land had been your home, your solace. You had been drawn to its wild beauty, felt comfort in its glades and harmony in its flowing waters. You had walked its forests, marveled at its mountains, and cherished the splendor even in the darkest corners. For in those shadows, light still found a way to seep through, revealing a beauty that could not be extinguished.

It was here, in the heart of Middle-earth, that you felt most alive. And even now, with the shadow of your husband looming and the weight of your people’s plight pressing heavily upon you, you would not abandon it. You would endure, as you always had, finding strength in the beauty and resilience of the world you had chosen to remain a part of.

“Thilwen?” Celebrimbor’s voice called to you, gentle but firm, pulling you from the depths of your thoughts. Your quiet reverie shattered at the sound, and you blinked, grounding yourself once more in the present. Mirdania, ever perceptive, gave you a small nod of understanding before stepping away, allowing you to move toward the two elves waiting for you.

But as your foot touched the first step down, a searing pain shot through your wrist—a fire you hadn’t felt in nearly an Age. It was sharp, sudden, and all-consuming, forcing a gasp from your lips. Your fingers instinctively grabbed the hem of your robe’s sleeve, pulling it down tightly, as though the fabric could shield you from the unbearable heat coursing up your arm.

The nauseating pain was relentless, clawing at you, but you forced yourself to stand straight, fighting against the overwhelming sensation. You lifted your head to look at Celebrimbor, his expression shifting to one of concern as he noticed your hesitation.

Then, the sound of hooves echoed through the courtyard, and your attention snapped toward the commotion. Two horses rode in, their riders cloaked and unfamiliar in the haze of your discomfort. But it wasn’t the sight of them that stopped you—it was the song of your fëa.

It swelled suddenly, unexpectedly, a harmony that resonated deep within you, pulling at your very soul. You took a few hurried steps toward the riders, your heart pounding with a mixture of hope and dread. But the burning in your wrist grew unbearable, each step amplifying the pain until it became too much.

You stopped, just a few paces away, your breath shallow as you clutched your arm. The searing heat of the mark felt as if it might consume you entirely, and for a moment, the harmony of your fëa seemed to twist into a dissonance, leaving you frozen, torn between the overwhelming pull toward the riders and the agony coursing through you.

This could mean only one thing.

He was here.

Your eyes locked on the man barely conscious atop his horse, his form slumped and weary. Yet, even in his weakened state, your fëa surged toward him, the ancient threads of your bond weaving together in a harmony so powerful that, for a fleeting moment, the world around you fell away. The song, the resonance that had always taken your breath away, enveloped you, leaving nothing but the aching pull of your soul reaching out to his.

The fire in your wrist seemed to fade into the background, forgotten in the overwhelming sensation. You watched as the guards moved quickly, assisting him off the horse and beginning to lead him toward the forge.

“What has happened?”

Celebrimbor’s voice broke through the trance, snapping you back to reality. You turned toward him, but your focus was drawn almost immediately back to the man being carried forward. His head lifted briefly, and for the first time in nearly a thousand years, your gaze met the brilliant green of those emerald eyes that had captivated you so completely.

A small, trembling smile touched your lips, and you fought back the tears threatening to fall. Relief flooded through you at the sight of him, even in this different form.

Mori.

His tired voice echoed in your mind, a soft, familiar breath of thought that made your heart seize. You nodded outwardly, unable to speak, but the motion was enough. A faint, relieved smile graced his lips before his head fell back, and the guards carried him inside.

You forced yourself to move, your steps steady despite the trembling in your limbs. As you approached the group, Celebrimbor turned to you, his sharp brow raised in suspicion. He had noticed your hesitation, the way you had faltered. His silent question hung between you.

You waved him off quickly, offering a fleeting smile of reassurance. Without waiting for further scrutiny, you followed the others—Galadriel and Elrond already moving ahead—into the forge. The air felt heavier, each step bringing you closer to the inevitable reunion you had both dreaded and longed for.

For it would be a painful one indeed.

You gazed on as the healers left, their quiet footsteps fading into the distance, leaving only the faint hum of the room behind. You stood just outside the door, your hand resting lightly on the frame, hesitant to step inside. The shadows within seemed to call to you, their whispers threading through the air like dark tendrils reaching toward you.

The mark on your wrist flared faintly, the dark tendrils crawling slowly up your arm. Though still light enough that no elf would notice, you knew the truth. The longer you lingered here, the darker and stronger their pull would become.

He lay genuinely asleep for the first time in what felt like an Age, lulled into rest by the soft pull of your connection. It was a rare sight, one that brought a bittersweet ache to your chest. Watching him now, peaceful and unguarded, you couldn’t help but remember the golden days when it had been the reverse. He would often watch you sleep, his gaze warm and filled with quiet reverence.

“You calm me,” he had once said, his voice a soft murmur as his fingers brushed your hair. “To see you like this, lost in your dreams with no fear of danger—it gives me peace.”

In those days, his embrace had been the one place where you felt truly safe, the weight of the world melting away in the circle of his arms.

But now?

Now you couldn’t even step into the same room as him without feeling the searing pain of the curse creeping up your arm, its dark magic a barrier between you. The thought of what it would feel like if he touched you now—if his skin met yours—made you shudder. You couldn’t bear to think of the agony it might bring, or the fragile peace it might shatter.

So this was what it had come to: stolen glances from doorways and fleeting moments where the barriers seemed less insurmountable. It reminded you, achingly, of the early days when he had first taken up at the forge. Back then, you had both danced around the undeniable pull of your fëar, avoiding what had been so clearly written in the fabric of your souls.

Now, it felt like you were back to that place, separated not by hesitation, but by a darkness neither of you could fully conquer. Still, as you lingered just a moment longer, watching him sleep, you couldn’t deny the faint flicker of hope buried deep within you—that perhaps, someday, you might find your way back to the light together.

That these stolen moments would not last forever and once more you would be able to lie with each other in a golden bed of light and happiness.

“Is our guest well?” Celebrimbor’s voice called softly, pulling you away from the doorframe. You straightened, offering him a polite smile as he approached.

“It would seem so,” you replied lightly, your tone calm and measured.

Celebrimbor studied you for a moment, his sharp eyes flickering with something unspoken. It wasn’t unusual for him to observe so keenly, but today, his attention lingered longer than usual.

“Is there something I missed?” you asked, raising a brow at him.

“No,” he said with a slight shake of his head, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. There was a faint amusement in his expression, as though some private thought had struck him.

You narrowed your eyes at him, suspicious of his mirth, but he simply waved you off with a smile. “It’s just that, for a moment there, you looked… happy again. Genuinely elated.”

Heat flushed your cheeks at his words, a warmth you couldn’t quite suppress. You turned away from the frame, brushing past him with deliberate nonchalance, though your thoughts raced.

“That would be something, wouldn’t it,” you murmured, your voice low, almost wistful.

It was Celebrimbor’s turn to raise a brow, curiosity flickering across his face, but before he could press further, you waved him off with a dismissive gesture. “Forget I said anything. Have a nice evening, my lord.”

You gave him a light bow before turning down the corridor, your steps brisk as you made your way toward your rooms. The faint echo of his voice and the warmth of his observation lingered in your mind, even as you disappeared into the quiet sanctuary of your quarters.

He watched from the shadows, as he always did, his form cloaked in the dim light of the room as you sat at the table in Celebrimbor’s study. You were engrossed, your quill moving steadily across the parchment, your mind clearly lost in thought. He wished not to startle you, though the longing in his chest threatened to overwhelm him. The sight of you, so serene, so focused, felt like a cruel twist of fate—a repetition of history wrapped in bittersweet fantasy.

After an Age apart, he had found you once more, and you were just as beautiful as the day he had first seen you in that glade, bathed in the dappled sunlight. His dark heart hammered in his chest, a sensation unfamiliar and raw, as a soft smile played across your lips. You paused for a moment, lost in thought, and the sight of that fleeting expression nearly undid him.

He resisted the urge to invade your mind, knowing it would reveal his presence, yet he couldn’t help but feel the pull. Could it truly be called spying when you were his? His Moriquendi, his dark elven maiden, basking now in the golden morning light of a peace he had not seen in you since the days of Laureandor. You were radiant, a harmony of light and shadow that captivated him in ways words could never express.

“Thilwen, have you finished?” Celebrimbor’s voice broke the quiet, drawing your attention.

You turned toward him, smiling warmly, the kind of smile Sauron had once received, and now could only watch from afar.

“Yes,” you said, holding up the parchment and offering it to Celebrimbor.

Sauron’s gaze darkened, his eyes narrowing as he watched the exchange. A surge of rage bubbled within him, fierce and sharp, as Celebrimbor’s eyes lingered on you. It was a look Sauron knew all too well—a look he had seen others give you in times past. It clawed at him, jealousy and anger intertwining, burning through the veneer of calm he struggled to maintain.

“I do believe this is our best plan, but it is mine, and we all know how—”

“He finds your methods unorthodox, but your plans always work,” Celebrimbor finished, a soft chuckle in his tone as he glanced at the page. “Two rings. That is interesting.”

“Their size makes them practical,” you explained, your voice bright with confidence. “Small and easily forged. With some simple molding, it should work.”

Sauron’s eyes flickered to the moment Celebrimbor placed his hand on your shoulder, his touch lingering in a way that felt all too familiar. The rage within him surged, threatening to spill over as he watched you smile up at Celebrimbor, your expression radiant.

He clenched his fists, the shadows around him stirring faintly as he fought the urge to step forward. You were his light, his balance, and yet here you were, standing so close to another, sharing a connection that he could not yet reclaim. The battle within him raged silently as he continued to watch, caught between his longing and the fury that simmered just beneath the surface.

His anger bubbled over, pushing him to step into the study. Your gaze snapped to him immediately, and he saw your right hand slip beneath the table. He knew why—you must have felt the burning ache in your wrist flare up at his presence. That subtle movement stalled his approach momentarily, the tension in the air palpable.

“I’m sorry to intrude,” Sauron said, his voice smooth, though the intensity in his eyes betrayed his inner turmoil. His gaze lingered on you for a moment too long, as if he couldn’t tear himself away. Your light was almost overwhelming, so bright it made him ache, but he endured it willingly if it meant he could continue to look upon you. “But is Galadriel here?”

“No,” Celebrimbor replied, shaking his head.

You moved with purpose, gathering your parchments and shoving them hastily into a tome beside you. The deliberate way you avoided looking at him only fueled the fire simmering in his chest. “Shouldn’t you be resting?” Celebrimbor asked, his attention shifting to Sauron as you reached for the tome and a small rectangular box on the table.

“I’ll be waiting in the forge,” you said briskly, bowing slightly to Celebrimbor. “Shall I get my lord Elrond?”

Celebrimbor nodded in agreement, and you made for the door, your strides careful and measured to avoid brushing against Sauron in any way. As you passed him, you curtsied slightly, a gesture that was more perfunctory than gracious.

But his voice stopped you.

“Where does a fine lady such as yourself come by such knowledge of a craft like smithing?”

Sauron’s gaze bore into you as you turned to face him, your expression calm but your eyes blazing with a fire he recognized all too well. It was a fire he longed to stoke, to see what secrets lay beneath it. He wondered how much of him you had shared with these people, and if they knew the depth of the connection you had tried to bury.

Before you could speak, Celebrimbor stepped forward, answering for you.

“My lady, Thilwen,” he began, a note of pride in his voice, “is quite the expert in her husband’s craft.”

“Is she now?”

“She is,” Celebrimbor said, stepping past both of you and moving into the forge. “The great Morion, a smith I had wished to meet but never got the chance.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of the name sinking into you as it always did. You turned your gaze away from Sauron’s, clearly uncomfortable with the interaction, though your fingers gripped the tome and box so tightly your knuckles had turned white.

“Of Laureandor?” Sauron asked, his tone smooth, though his words carried a deliberate weight.

Celebrimbor nodded with a smile. “Indeed. His work was legendary among my kin.”

“The master I apprenticed under spoke highly of his craft,” Sauron said smoothly, his golden eyes shifting to you. “And of yours as well, my lord.”

Your grip on the objects in your hands tightened even further, though you remained silent, the tension radiating off you palpable.

“You’re a smith?” Celebrimbor asked, a trace of disbelief in his voice as he glanced at Sauron.

Sauron nodded, his expression calm, almost humble. “I am,” he said simply, as though the admission were nothing extraordinary.

Celebrimbor’s intrigue was evident, his mind clearly turning over the implications. But Sauron’s attention remained on you, his gaze lingering with an intensity that made it clear he hadn’t forgotten who you were—or what you had been to him.

“My husband was hardly the great man you believe he was, my lord,” you said, your voice steady though your gaze flickered with tension. You turned your eyes to Celebrimbor, finding just enough courage to move once more.

Behind you, Sauron chuckled softly to himself. Even after all these ages, you were still an awful liar, and Celebrimbor, sharp as ever, saw through you with ease.

“He disappeared one night,” you continued, your tone carefully measured. “Some thought he was taken by the Shadow itself for his mastery of skill.” You paused deliberately, then turned your gaze back to him, locking eyes with Sauron.

The weight of your next words bore into him like a blade, meant for him and him alone. “I personally think he was a coward, for I asked him for something—apparently too great a task for him—and he ran. Like the red-headed coward he was.”

Your voice sharpened, and as you stood taller, your light flared ever so slightly against the darkness emanating from him. The air between you seemed to crackle, the opposing forces of light and shadow ebbing and flowing, pushing and pulling in a battle as old as time.

Sauron held back a snarl, his eyes narrowing at your remark. Coward? The accusation cut deep, though he refused to let it show. He had been many things when it came to you, but a coward was not one of them.

How dare you think so.

The fire in his chest burned hotter, but he quelled it for now, his lips curving into a cold smile instead.

“If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I must go find Herald Elrond,” you said, your voice steady though laced with a faint edge of irritation. Your fingers released their tight grip on the tome and box, placing them carefully on the workbench.

“Of course, my lady,” Sauron replied smoothly, inclining his head in a polite bow. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

Without another word, you turned and swept out of the forge, your movements quick and purposeful. The flurry of your departure echoed in the corridor as your figure disappeared from view.

Sauron’s gaze lingered on the space where you had stood, watching until you were entirely gone. The tension in the air lingered, your anger still palpable, even in your absence. He couldn’t deny that it was warranted, your words sharp and cutting in their truth. But the accusation you had made, of his cowardice, gnawed at him more deeply than he had anticipated.

He clenched his fists at his sides, his thoughts churning. You had every right to be angry. He had fled, leaving you behind to face the shadows alone. But what you didn’t see—what he wished he could show you—was the cost of that choice.

For five centuries, he had endured a primordial existence, consumed by the weight of his failure and the loss of you. He had wandered, a broken fragment of himself, holding onto a single thread of hope: the promise he had made to you, the promise to return, to make things right.

Every thought, every breath, every step he had taken in that darkened state had been for you. And now, here you were, so close yet so far, and the bitterness in your voice made him wonder if that promise still held any meaning for you.

Sauron’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing slightly. The game was far from over, but he would not leave you with the final word. Not yet. Not until he had the chance to remind you of who he had been—and who he still could be, for you.

You let out a slow breath as you sank onto the stone bench nestled just inside the courtyard by the river. The sound of the flowing water was soothing, its steady rhythm a balm for your weary mind and aching heart. Yet, as the sun dipped lower toward the horizon, its warm light fading into the embrace of twilight, you couldn’t escape the crushing weight of your own words.

The anger you had unleashed upon him burned in your chest, uncalled for, yet impossible to ignore. You had been so happy to see him, so desperate to feel that connection again. But he was not the being you had once known. The Mairon you had loved with every fiber of your being was gone, replaced by the deceiver your kin had feared for so long. The slithering serpent of shadow and fire burned brightly behind those all-too-familiar green eyes.

You had clung to the hope that some light might remain within him, a spark that could be coaxed back to brilliance. But now, as you replayed every glance, every word exchanged, you felt that hope slipping through your fingers. The truth was undeniable—there was no light left to alter him.

Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the faint burn on your wrist, the telltale sign of his approach.

“You are so predictable,” his voice broke the stillness, startling you. You turned sharply to look at him, your heart leaping into your throat as you caught sight of him. His coppery hair glimmered in the dimming light, a reminder of another time, another place. He moved to sit on the steps a few paces from you, keeping his distance, as though aware his presence alone was enough to cause you pain.

“Always sitting with a book among Yavanna’s creations,” he mused, a playful edge to his tone.

“I am among great companions, my lord,” you replied, a faint smile tugging at your lips. The words were familiar, echoing from long ago, and for a moment, the weight in your chest lightened.

The silence that followed stretched between you, heavy with unspoken truths, until you finally broke it. Turning your gaze to the horizon, you watched as the last rays of the sun dipped below the edge of the world. “Your silvery tongue is not going to get you out of this one.”

His chuckle was warm, rich, and maddeningly familiar. The sound ran up your spine, stirring your heart against your will.

“I did not think it would,” he admitted, his lips curving into a wry smile. “But it was worth a try.”

You shook your head, still facing away from him, unable to meet the weight of his gaze. His eyes bore into you, unrelenting, focused solely on you and not the beauty of the setting sun behind you.

“Mairon,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, your resolve cracking. Even as his name left your lips, you refused to turn, to let him see the storm of emotions threatening to overtake you. “I cannot go through this again. I’ve spent centuries in grief for you.”

Your throat tightened as tears welled in your eyes, threatening to spill. You fought them back, though the ache in your chest grew heavier with every word. What you were about to say would cut deeply, for both of you, but it had to be said.

“You destroyed everything in my world, all for what?”

The question hung in the air between you, raw and piercing. Your voice trembled as you spoke, the pain behind your words unmistakable. The weight of the past—the ruin he had left in his wake, the love he had once promised, and the endless grief that had consumed you—pressed down on you like a shroud.

And still, you didn’t turn. You couldn’t bear to see his face, to watch the shadow of his reaction to the truth he needed to hear.

“Mori,” he breathed, his voice carrying a weight that made it almost a sigh.

You shot up from the bench, the darkness in your fëa surging with a ferocity you hadn’t felt in ages. It coursed through you, unrelenting, as if responding to his very presence.

“No,” you said forcefully, your voice cutting through the silence as you met his gaze head-on. “You do not get to come back into my life and think all is forgiven.”

His eyes widened slightly, startled by the intensity of your reaction, but then softened as he watched the raw emotions playing across your face.

“You… You destroyed our home, our life, and our future for the meager promise of glory,” you said, your voice trembling with the force of your words. “You ran from me—”

His eyes darkened in an instant, his expression hardening as a sharp edge crept into his voice. “I did not run from you,” he snarled, his tone low but fierce. “I saved you because I failed you, Mori.” His gaze flicked briefly to your wrist, the mark hidden beneath your sleeve. “I could not protect you as I had promised. So I did the only thing I could—I played the faithful servant and did as I was commanded to do.”

He stepped closer to you, the space between you shrinking with every word. You thrust your hand out instinctively, willing him to stop, but he didn’t.

When your palm connected with his chest, the pain seared through you, sharp and unrelenting. You flinched but held your ground, refusing to yield.

“I burned worlds,” he continued, his voice heavy with emotion. “Scorched the very earth you loved because I needed time—time and resources to break his curse over you.”

You looked up at him, the heat of his words mingling with the intensity of his gaze. In that moment, despite the shadow that loomed over him, you swore you saw Mairon—hidden beneath the long lashes, buried in the glow of his emerald eyes.

“I tore that city, our city, down,” he said, his voice thick with anguish. “I hoped it would appease him, that he would lift the curse. But it was too late. They had found him, and I fled. I tried to repent, Mori. With all my heart, I wanted to atone for my sins, hoping they would grant us a life together.”

“Mai—” Your voice broke, your throat tightening as his name caught in your throat.

“I endured everything for you, my light,” he said, his tone softer now, though no less heavy with emotion. “But I could not take their word for it, so I took it upon myself to find the answer. And now,” he whispered, his fingers brushing your cheek to wipe away the tears you hadn’t realized were falling, “I am here to complete my promise.”

“Not this way,” you breathed, your voice trembling as you shook your head. His fingers, warm and unyielding, captured your chin, gently forcing your gaze upward.

Your eyes flickered down to the mark on your wrist, and dread filled your chest as you saw the tendrils had darkened, spreading more than they ever had before. The pain was no longer isolated; it intertwined with the ache in your heart, a relentless torment threatening to pull you into the Void itself.

“We can never be together, Mairon,” you said, your voice breaking as your gaze searched his, desperate for something you couldn’t name. “Not as long as you are this way.”

His golden eyes flickered in response, a shadow of anguish passing through them, but you pressed on. “I can bear the pain of this mark,” you continued, your voice firmer now, “but I cannot bear the pain of watching you succumb to this madness. My heart can only take so much grief.”

You pulled away from his touch, the separation aching more than you cared to admit. Without looking back, you moved past him, your fingers gripping the skirt of your gown tightly as you climbed the steps back toward the city.

“Mornelótë,” he breathed, the name rolling off his tongue with such reverence that it stopped you in your tracks.

It was the name he had known you first as, the name that wrapped around his lips in such a way that always caused you to falter. You turned slowly, your chest tight, and saw him standing there, holding the book you hadn’t even realized you had dropped.

His hand moved across the cover, brushing away the dirt from its ancient leather with a care that was achingly familiar. The gesture was raw, so reminiscent of that first meeting that it made your heart twist painfully.

You swallowed hard and moved back toward him, your steps hesitant.

“I never wished to dim your light,” he said softly, his voice filled with a sorrow that felt almost tangible. “Nor did I ever wish to hurt you so.”

Your fingers gripped the book tightly as he extended it to you, his words hanging heavily in the space between you. It was almost a silent acceptance, a small acknowledgment of the truth in his words. But it would take more than silvery words and tender gestures for you to forgive him—let alone forget.

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Anyways in other news, I wish I still had my old concha recipe. My current concha recipe slaps (I feel a bit bad for bastardizing the family recipe but it IS more to my taste now) but I still cannot get the frosting to be just the way I like it. It's frustrating.

[jojotier]

is chefplay a thing. is there someone out there white knuckling the fishgutting station while grinding out "yes, chef" between nicotine stained teeth

[cemeterym]

i'm begging my uni to stop making every fucking student social activity something where you have to walk around a bunch if you are a slow walker who cannot help it they literally want you dead

[blujayonthewing]

it's weird to me that online content on foraging and camp/ bushcraft cooking never seem to overlap, at least not that I've ever found?? foraging recipes are always like 'wild mushroom risotto with chardonnay and arborio rice' and bushcraft cooking is always like 'first, unpack your ribeye you brought from home--' like what is going on here, surely 'guy who wants to camp out and cook over a fire' and 'guy who wants to eat some plants they found in the woods' cannot be completely separate venn diagram circles

[fullbrave]

that post about imagining naruto to help you brush your teeth is so me with garl tbh. this has been a straight up harrowing year for me as far as food is concerned but somehow i’m emerging from it with a happier and healthier relationship with cooking and eating than i’ve ever had in my life and if becoming obsessed with a happy little pixel guy who saves the world with a giant loaf of bread helped me get there then right on, grab that pot lid am i right

[eastofedean]

8i've been thinking about the last asks i got today. and i think it's better for me to take a step back from this account. i know the anon didn't mean anything by it, but i still feel like i am being a negative presence on here and weirding people out with who i am is nothing i want. so, i am not deleting or anything. i am just gonna be less present with sharing personal things or leaving tags. I'll probably be more active on my second account where i don't have that many followers :)

[leatherbookmark]

dear google duckduckgo how to love and feel loved because i'm at my wits' end at this point

[keeps-ache]

ouuhwhuh the nectar (water) ! ohhuhuihouhuhu

...am i a fish

[neverendingford]

.

[menagerofmischief]

Heart song (OP81)

summary: in the middle of dating rumors, current music industry hit, y/n l/n releases a love song which leaves no space to deny her relationship. -> based on this request

fc: olivia rodrigo

cw: bad language,

a/n: the only bands I listen to are a bunch of old men or a bunch of dead man, safe to say I don't know much about bands so I made her a solo artist.

liked by: oscar piastri, sabrinacarpenter, and 1,556,895 more

yourusername: something coming soon, or whatever

comments:

ynsleftshoe: oscar in the likes before me again

hooklinesinker: girl same! and I got notifications on cococroissant: the struggle of making it here before pee ass tree vrom vrom is real

ynupdates: mother is cooking and eating for real

sabrinacarpenter: so excited for it!

justonechange: the bond between two girls scorned by a man is unbreakable breakmyback: sabrina is so me right now

likealovesong: my hears are about to be blessed again! thank you god for answering my prayers

liked by landonorris and 1,345 more

f1wagupdates: seems like a new wag may be entering the paddock, showcasing papaya!

mclaren driver, oscar piastri, has been spotted being touchy and affectionate with pop star, y/n l/n. this is not the first time the two have been spotted together.

comments:

vroomyroom: what the hell is lando doing in the likes of a wag updates page

norrizzz: he's so messy fr

user454: seriously what's wrong with you people, leave them alone!

justanichident: oscar's lucky he's good that polite cat smile because those hands do be wondering

breakmyback: I too am no better than a man (I'd be touching y/n's ass all the time if I could)

user334: ow! they're so cute together!

user331: power couple vibes

user564: ew, he can do so much better

user887: SHE can do much better

liked by hattiepiastri, nicolepiastri, yourusername and 1.345.221 more

oscarpiastri: great vacation, lots of sun

comments:

macmylarens: if bwoah was an instagram caption it would be tht

rockabye: who does bro think he's fooling with that soft launch

dropstoproll: like sir, we all know that's y/n l/n, now give us some good content

landonorris: you really poured your heart out with that caption mate

ynupdates: I spy with my little eye, y/n in the likes

justonechange: so ... he's not that bad

user423: I get y/n, he's hot

liked by sabrinacarpenter, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 1.978.645 more

yourusername: Summer When Everybody Ever Thought, Love In Knowledge Existed, Yellow Orchids Unidentified

see you on august 19th ;)

comments:

ynupdates: NEW ALBUM ALERT!!!

breakmyback: I don't care if a man driving in circles for living inspired it, new music is coming!

sabrinacarpenter: that caption triggered my dyslexia

justonechange: no because same user332: I thought I was the only one!

dotsaredotting: hear me out, the aesthethic of this album is orange (so far), and there's a car, mclaren F1 team is orange ("papaya" or wtv), oscar piastri drives for mclaren, oscar is soft launching, they wore spotted together = they're dating

crazyonce: this is so delulu it may be trululu

ynupdates: in case you thought you were crazy for not getting the caption, every words starts with a capital latters and all the letters together spell SWEET LIKE YOU which is either a song on the album or the name of the album

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, hattiepiastri, and 2.021.331 more

yourusername: the way sun shines over beaches, the first taste of summer peaches, yellowed pages of a favorite book it may all be sweet but not sweet like you.

my new album, sweet like you, is now available to stream. this is such a special album for me which is why it's dedicated to such a special person. I love you, Osc, keep on being sweet.

comments have been turned off for this post

liked by yourusername, sabrinacarpenter, landonorris and 1.987.554 more

oscarpiastri: every day I'm grateful I get to have you. you're the sun of my morning, the stars of my evening, the breath of my lungs and the song of my heart. I love you, y/n.

comments:

landonorris: wow, you actually poured your heart out with this one

sabrinacarpenter: she was mine first car boy, remember that

hattiepiastri: I hope you know how much cooler than you your girlfriend is

yourusername: love you too, my sweet boy <3

comments have been limited on this post

[mare-the-silly-scroingle]

whenever i have something rocky going on w my mom i think about that one time my dad sat me and my sister down and was like you have to be nice to your mom always because she does so much for you kids and you’re her world. which is a fair point but it would have been more well taken if my father was useful at anything and not actively part of the reason why my mom has to do so much for us

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Game Set Match

♥ masterlist | request rules

♥ pairing: oscar piastri x olympic!tennisplayer!reader

♥ synopsis: with the help of carlos sainz and your brother carlos alcaraz, you were able to score a date with your favorite f1 driver

♥ smau - fc: women on pinterest - as always none of the pictures are mine <3

♥ warnings: swearing !!!

♥ a/n: here's some super late olympic fics

-July 28 2024-

liked by carlossainz55, carlitosalcarazz, arynasabalenka, and 406,271 more

ynalcaraz photo dump

view comments

user7 the f1 in the second pic is so real

carlitosalcarazz she’s obsessed with that one mclaren driver

carlossainz55 @/carlitosalcarazz LANDO?!

carlitosalcarazz no the other one

carlossainz55 oh oscar

user1 PLS 😭

user2 THE DIFFERENCE LMAO

user4 new carcar lore

user10 y/n is just like me fr fr

user3 carlos sainz and the alcaraz siblings being friends was not on my 2024 bingo card

user8 I <3 them

user11 the collab we in fact knew we needed

user12 not carlos casually telling the whole world that y/n has a crush on oscar

user6 the fact that we got an oscar p2 today too

user5 SO hyped to see the both of them at the olympics

uer13 same !!!

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-left: your phone- -right: carlos a's phone-

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by carlitosalcarazz, landonorris, ynalcaraz and 294,923 more

f1gossip Oscar Piastri taking promotional pictures in Paris in time for the 2024 Olympics

view comments

user1 y/n is shaking in her boots rn

user2 miss rabbit has fainted

user7 NAH HE SAW THE POSTS

user6 was he invited by a certain someone

ynalcaraz @/carlitosalcarazz YOU DIDN'T.

carlitosalcarazz I did

ynalcaraz blocked.

carlossainz55 I was expecting a thank you

ynalcaraz stop roping other carlos into this 😩

carlossainz55 you call me other carlos?

landonorris 🤣🫵

user3 ynoscar crumbs

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, lewishamilton, and 593,502 more

oscarpiastri thanks for inviting me @/carlitosalcarazz and congrats on yours and @/ynalcaraz’s gold 🥇

view comments

ynalcaraz @/carlitosalcarazz i fucking knew it

ynalcaraz anyway thanks tho osc 🥰

user1 the nickname.

carlitosalcarazz great to see you again

landonorris me wondering where my invite was

oscarpiastri me wondering where I asked

user12 PLSS

user14 the girls are fighting

landonorris its all good fun

user7 my pookies met

user3 the second picture is going down in sports history tbh

user5 congrats to them !!!

user6 am I fucking crazy or did he get those roses for y/n

user11 you're crazy

user8 @/user11 NAH NAH let them cook

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, lilymhe, and 1,492,753 more

oscarpiastri de nada

user6 I HATE ❌ TO SAY 🗣️ I TOLD YOU ���� SO

user2 AHHH

user4 the fact he got her flowers...

user3 just get married already

user10 I love them

user7 I'm so proud of her for winning gold today !!!

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, alex_albon, and 1,489,475 more

mclaren life rn

view comments

ynalcaraz why that picture of me 😕

mclaren sorry yn!!

ynalcaraz you’re forgiven admin 😚🫶

user1 THE FACT THAT LANDO AND OSCAR WERE FLIRTING WITH HER THE WHOLE VIDEO 💀

user2 it's mr steal your girl

user9 why was oscar actually so good tho

ynalcaraz he should sign up for aussie's team

user10 @/ynalcaraz I think he was trying to impress you

lilymhe golf next

ynalcaraz i second that

user8 @/mclaren admin were you the ballboy? 😭

mclaren I was and I'm proud

liked by charles_leclerc, user7, user1, and 394,473 more

ynalcaraz can someone tell @/carlossainz55 to stay out of my love life

view comments

carlossainz55 I'm the one who got you the date ???

carlitosalcarazz I did all the heavy lifting

user1 c2 but not in the way you think

user7 @/user1 carlos got y/n in the charlos divorce

user3 I'd recognize those shorts anywhere lol

user4 bro made it SOOO obvious that it was him

user8 oscar we know its you open up

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, carlitosalcarazz, and 1,147,329

ynalcaraz "thank you carlos" we all say in unison

view comments

carlossainz55 you're welcome.

carlitosalcaraz it was about time

oscarpiastri I love you carino

ynalcaraz I love you too <3

lilymhe you and oscar too cute

ynalcaraz 🥹🫶

user3 thank you carlos

user1 thank you carlos

oscarpiastri thank you carlos 🫡

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

end notes: hi loves <3 I know this was a short fic but I hope you still enjoyed it! I'll hopefully be releasing some longer ones soon but I've been pretty busy recently.

[ilydeku]

izuku loves to talk about you during interviews

- anything and every topic it will ALWAYS be about you

- the question won't even be remotely related to you and still izukus answer will revolve around "y/n, my wife!!" <3

- oh, the glint in his eyes, the peaking smile when he speaks about you, lover boyyy

- the media knows he LOVE LOVES you, they think it's funny for this big, confident, mighty hero to be reduced to sap when it comes to you

- it's like his whole personality is HIS WIFE

- the journalists lowkey get so SICK of him for this, they don't want to invite him anymore 😭

- but they kinda have to, due to to his status as #1

"Good evening everyone and welcome Hero Talk! Tonight we'll be staring someone you all know and love, single handedly the greatest hero of all time, Deku! Alright, Deku how are you tonight?"

"Feeling pretty good! This is one of my wife's favorite shows, so I'm even more grateful to be here. And how are you?"

"Oh, same old. Really, just living. Now, we wanted to ask you some fun questions. Let's start with this one. Why did you want to become a hero?"

"Wow, haha! That really brings be back to my youth. When I was kid, my biggest influence was All Might, and he miraculously became my mentor. He was a good hero, and a good man. I wanted to be just like him: fearless, persevering, saving people with I smile. I would beg my mom everyday to watch this video on the computer of him saving a bunch a people. I was really swayed by All Might. I wanted to become a hero to make an impact in the world. I wanted to save people with a smile too."

"That sounds really endearing, Deku. I remember All Might's reign. He wasn't number one on the top charts all those years for nothing. So, did you ever think you'd be standing as Japan's top hero?"

"Well, it was never really my goal to become number one. That was Kacchan's- Dynamight's. My dream was, like I said, to become a hero and save others. But I have to say, it really is a blessing. I'd like to thank my Mom, All Might, my friends, and especially my wife for who I've become. My Mom has really done a lot for me growing up: protecting, encourage, and just always caring for me. All Might has kinda been that father figure for me when my Dad was away. My friends have shown me what it's like to work together and really be part of a heart. And my wife? Haha...I can't thank her enough for all the times she's been right by my side, even before we were together. Nothing I can say or do will ever be enough to express how much she means to me."

"Mm. Quite the supportive group. Your wife sounds like quite the lady!"

"She is. She's wonderful."

"Moving on to the next question, do you use social media often?"

"Occasionally, yes?? My wife uses it regularly, posting about us when we go out and stuff. It's mostly for her family to see how she's doing. She handles most of my official accounts. She says it's to be more appealing to the public, and I guess to show that there's more to heroes on the inside?? I'm not really sure, but I trust her process. Although, I'd rather be appealing to her alone."

"The public will always interested in a hero's private life! Now, Deku, what is your ideal setting of relaxation?"

"My wife doesn't like places that are too crowded or noisy, so maybe a cozy day at the beach?- but early in the morning or in the evening when the crowds calm down. Maybe a movie theatre, but days after the movie is released so it's just us together. Actually, a lazy day at home together is great too! Cooking meals and watching a movie on the couch? Really, any place is relaxing if my wife is with me."

(am i questioning Deku's wife or Deku!?) "How scenic! Those sound very fitting for you!! How about any restaurants?"

"Not really. My wife really knows how to cook, it's amazing! I love her home-cooked meals, so there's no way I'd go out of my way to a restaurant. But if my wife is feeling it, I'll be sure to make reservations."

"(sigh)"

"(smiling warmly)"

[luveline]

bombshell!reader getting caught sleeping over at spencer's before making their established relationship public & the team still thinks spencer is uncomfortable with r's approaches. 🤭

Spencer bought you pyjamas. You're sick with secret pleasure at the fact, staring at yourself in every passing window and reflective surface. They're simple skinny knitted sweatpants and a matching hoodie, and it's not necessarily something you'd buy for yourself, but why would you ever complain? Spencer got you new clothes as a gift with no occasion or motive; you'd marry him now if you thought he'd say yes. 

Too bad he's still sleeping. 

You turn away from his kitchen window back to your cooking, an oiled frying pan sizzling hot on the stove, eggs browning at the edges as Spencer likes. Two twin mugs of hot coffee steam on the counter next to two plates of crispy bacon and toasted english muffins, deconstructed breakfast sandwiches. You're ninety percent sure he likes breakfast sandwiches. 

It's odd knowing enough about Spencer to fancy yourself in love with him, but being in a relationship that's so new that there are a thousand gaps. You know how he likes his eggs but not his bacon. Does he like melted cheese? Does he drink orange juice this early?

You'll have to ask him. If he's brave enough to ask you to stay the night, you can ask him about breakfast. 

It's getting way too hot in the kitchen. The opened window isn't cutting it. You hook your elbow into the hem of your hoodie and pull it over your head before folding them to set neatly aside. You feel cooler in your vest, if a little exposed. Good thing it's just you and Spence—

A knock rattles the door. "Reid, you home?" 

Well, I brought that on myself, you think with a laugh. You take the eggs off of the heat and wipe your oily fingers clean on a dish towel as you meander to the door. It's too early for running. 

"Hello, Derek," you say, opening the door with a put upon casualness. He blinks at you. He's wearing gym clothes, a sleeveless t-shirt and tight sweatpants. You wolf whistle before he can say hello himself. "Looking good. Early run?" 

"You're kidding," he says. 

"Am I ever? You look great! Did you want to come in– woah!" 

Deft-fingered hands pull you out of the doorway and firmly behind it. Spencer steps into your place, closing the door to a slit. "Hi, Morgan." 

"Reid. You're both kidding." 

"I don't know what you mean." Spencer rakes a hand through his sleep mussed hair. You try to ignore how much you enjoyed him moving you around. 

"Reid, I just saw her!" Morgan laughs more happily than incredulously. You can't see him but you can picture his smile and his slightly slouched posture, his arms crossed over his chest. "Since when do you guys bunk up? You're a jerk, you know that? I'm always telling her to stop bothering you, but now I'm thinking you like being bothered." 

"I never asked you to do that," Spencer says weakly. 

You nudge Spencer aside gently, popping your head back into Morgan's view. "My AC broke, my apartment's a hot hell. Reid let me come over." 

"Oh yeah?" Morgan asks, rolling his eyes. "That why he tried to hide you? What's so secret about broken AC?" 

"He's a genius, he's not perfect. I'm sure he was just trying to protect my decency. I'm not dressed for company." You put a more than friendly hand on Spencer's back, the dip of it like a tempting line under his thin sleep shirt. You want more than anything to dig under his shirt and feel along the curve of it. You'd pictured it this morning, eating eggs and drinking coffee under his arm, your fingertips tracing the short wall of stretch marks he has just above his coccyx.  

Spencer rolls with your lie as well as he's able to, which, having been caught off guard, is not very well at all. "Right. She's not wearing a bra." 

You snort. Morgan laughs and almost turns around to walk away. 

"Did you want breakfast?" Spencer asks weakly. He sounds resigned to his fate. Skewed, he uses the hand furthest away from you to reach behind his back and squeeze your hand in a swift apology. 

"I'll pass, man." Morgan pulls his cap down a touch. "Sounds like you're having breakfast fit for two."