#blitz almost talks about his emotions

[caspira-writes-fanfiction]

Moonlit Confessions

(ao3 link in title)

Blitzø visits Stolas in the hospital, but only when he thinks Stolas doesn't know.

The room was warm despite the evident starlight coming through the draped windows that usually signaled that Stolas should be chilly. He’d been in and out of sleep for the past several days, waking only long enough to eat if prompted or make a few observations about his surroundings. He had been able to relatively consistently remember that daylight=warm. Moonlight=cold, but if asked what day it was or even where he was, Stolas would likely be unable to answer without help. He wasn’t even sure he could answer if asked, he hadn’t spoken aloud in ages.

The magic he had used during the full moon had exhausted him of all his energy. He didn’t fight the sleep when it came, he knew his role right now was to rest: it was the only way he would heal. He also hadn’t tried to fight himself into wakefulness too often. Usually he awoke only to reposition himself or fix the arrangement of his blankets. This time as he awoke, however, Stolas found that he had a much more difficult time moving. There was something in his arms.

With just one eye squinting itself open, only able to see a blur of red with black and white stripes, Stolas reasoned that he was clutching to Impy, his unfortunately named beloved childhood stuffed doll. He still had the doll tucked away with his other possessions. He came out of storage on rare occasions when Stolas needed extra comfort, such as periods of illness. Curious, he thought. Nobody had come to bring him anything, he hadn’t remembered Impy being among his possessions while in hospital. It was with a movement of his good hand up to the imp’s head that he realized he was touching flesh and not fabric. Two more of the prince’s eyes blink open. With increased cognizance, Stolas realized that he could feel the rise and fall of the other’s chest as he breathed. When his eyes adjusted, he recognized the brand mark from the imp circus, tucked carefully under the Goetia’s chin. Blitzy was here.

It almost felt like a dream and Stolas was happy to convince himself of that, but the smell of booze that became apparent as Stolas became more awake settled him into reality. A disorienting reality, one he didn’t entirely know how to make sense of, but one that Stolas couldn’t help but take comfort from in this moment. Blitzy was here, all of the other details were negligible.

Stolas was warm, he realized, because Blitz had pulled the blanket up over them when he’d snuck into bed. He was having trouble moving because Blitz’s tail was wrapped around the two of them twice over. His face was buried in Stolas’s chest feathers and his arms were wrapped under Stolas’s, clutching to his back. While Stolas woke thinking he was holding onto something, he now realized that he was the object that was being held onto. Stolas tried to move, only slightly, but was stopped when he heard Blitz shift protectively and grumble in his sleep.

“No” It wasn’t an angry or upset no. It was quiet, a bit playful, concerned. “Shh, no jus’….no. Don’ move.”

Blitz was still very much asleep. Stolas found the concern that Blitz showed in his unconscious state endearing. He could feel his heart swell, there was no doubt he was blushing. Blitzy cared for him, even if it was just a quiet shushing in his sleep. How could Stolas do anything but oblige?

“Alright.” Stolas’s voice was no more than a whisper. His good hand rested atop Blitz’s head, scratching gently between his horns. He pressed his lips to the other’s forehead and kept them there in a prolonged, tender kiss. Stolas found it quite easy to drift back into sleep with Blitz tangled up in his arms.

Stolas awoke again hours later when the sun was starting to rise. Blitz was trying to sneak out of bed, and doing so rather successfully until he fell out of it. Stolas was still rather disoriented, he decided to stay laying still. He could hear Bliz standing up, he could hear him grumble and brush himself off, then silence for several moments.

“You’re still fucking sleeping” Blitzø’s voice was quiet, and just slightly fuzzy around the edges. Stolas wondered how much Blitz drank before breaking in here to still be inebriated in the morning. He wondered how much time had actually passed.

Blitz stumbled, he sighed. “You should’ve woken up to that. Or this. You should be awake right now going ~Oh Blitzy~ with your big stupid fucking eyes. You’re not supposed to….You shouldn’t...You’re not…” His voice almost cracked, but he stopped and swallowed before allowing that to happen. It was a few moments before he spoke again. “I didn’t know you could get hurt.”

Blitzø didn’t outright apologize, but Stolas understood what he was trying to say. The air hung heavy in the room, the silence clinging to both of them uncomfortably. Blitz’s breath hitched and Stolas could feel all of the air from his lungs leave as his chest crushed in on itself. Blitzy was crying. This was exactly the moment that Stolas wanted to reach out and pull Blitzø back into his arms and hold him, but he knew this was exactly the sort of moment Blitz would never let anyone else see. He knew Blitz would run the moment Stolas showed him affection. Stolas stayed as still as he could, he remembered his breathing, he remained “sleeping” while Blitz regained his composure.

“You look like shit, Birdie.” Blitz sniffed, Stolas imagined he was wiping away tears before they fell. Blitzy never let anyone see him show such vulnerability. Stolas wanted to believe that these emotions were fueled by more than whatever Blitz had taken before coming here. Stolas felt the blanket over him move. Careful hands pulled the blanket back up around him and tucked him in. “You can’t fucking die, okay? That’s an order.” Stolas could feel something hover over his face. He couldn’t tell if it was Blitzø’s hand or his lips. He never learned, nothing ever made contact.

Blitz’s boots click towards the exit. “If you do I’ll….I’ll kill you again.” Three more clicks. “Fuck!” His voice is a whisper, the boots clicked on down the hall. Stolas didn’t hear any more from Blitz.

Stolas didn’t sleep very well the rest of the day. His chest ached in a way he didn’t know how to categorize. He stayed tearful, he couldn’t decide if his tears were happy or sad. Both, he supposed. More of one than the other at times. Stolas had never been more conflicted in his life. How had he gotten here? He knew the answer, it was a reality of his own making, but that didn’t make it any less confusing.

He may not know how things would play out between him and Blitzø, but knew one thing: he was going to stay alive. He had to, Blitz had asked him to.

[fujosh1dreamer]

There are a few things I wanna talk about in the newest helluva episode Mastermind, but firstly...

Im gonna throw myself off of a cliff this is so sweet... holy sh*t.

Now onto to the painful stuff...

Loona getting myzzled and staying that way the whole trial is the most ef'd thing for the whole episode. Talk about disrespectful, if Blitz had died she wouldn't have been able to say she loved him.

Then there's this whole scene that was extremely painful to watch. Both Loona and Moxxie are looking away as Blitz is about to be executed so he's only able to make eye contact and feel comfortable in his final moment by Millie. She's the only one who doesn't look aways even though he is her best friend and it must be unbearable.

THISSS MAKES ME ANGRY!!!!! It's on site when I see Stella again, talk about emotional abuse.

Then there's the stuff after the trial that just breaks my heart into a million pieces.

Let's talk about how stolas despite clearly still being angry is willing to die for blitz, only at the end of the episode to tell him "always" as if the decision wasn't difficult. It was.

There there's the look he gives to Blitz and Loona when they hug, and she says she loves him. There must be sooo many thoughts running through stolas's brain. He's thinking about how Blitz almost lost this, about how imp really is his family, he's probably thinking about his own daughter, and he probably thinks this is all his fault.

It's going to be devastating to see the low stolas is going be at both literally and emotionally.

[zarnzarn]

i see all these comments talking about this after the new episode, but. i would like to state for the record that stolitz isn't. toxic.

first off, the concept of a toxic and a healthy relationship are such... vague terms. when you're online, drenched in language and tight moral boundaries, trying to put a nuanced story like helluva boss's into boxes is easy to attempt and impossible to do.

a toxic relationship is one where one or both parties is maliciously affecting the other. I'm talking fetid, nasty, rude interactions where there is more hurt than love. they're unhappy more often than not when they're with their partner, there's no respect or give from the other side.

stolitz is nothing like that.

Stolas actively cares about Blitz and actually has no fear or hesitation in ADMITTING IT OUT LOUD TO OZZIE. he has been calling, texting, commenting, laughing and finding ways to spend time with Blitz. he's throwing everything he has to the wind, finding the courage to move forward with the divorce, putting everything he has into trying to keep him. he's been alone in a palace since he was born, on medication, with such less people dear to him that he remembered the circus boy who spent a day with him DECADES ago- so when blitz comes into his life and brings back in laughter and color and sex, he's holding on with everything he's got.

and blitz does care!!! he cares a LOT, the whole series we see him falling in love with stolas through SHOW NOT TELL (his expressions, his choices, his fear, his lashing out) and utterly unable to process that stolas cares about him too when talking to fizz; almost a desperate kind of denial-

cause yknow. the first time he tried to confess something to someone he really liked, he accidentally killed half the people he knew and ruined the lives of the rest?

thats gonna leave just a teensy impact on the will to express your emotions in the future, methinks.

even before that, he clearly felt like on some level that he was unworthy and he's said twice that he despises himself for the accident even though it wasn't actually his fault. being self aware doesn't stop the emotions from emotioning.

he keeps insisting its only sex so urgently to anyone who doesn't ask because he can't even imagine it being anything else. he's both disappointed and relieved when he repeats that stolas sees him as a novelty, because what else can it be?

(there's a whole other spiel of how brave both Stolas and Blitz have to be to say it out loud even when asmodeus can't afford to, considering how publically and completely beaten down both were at the club.)

(there's also another whole spiel about how frustrating it has been for ME to see all these comments over time with such bad takes based on like,, 20 min worth of info of a show that takes months to release an ep. like godDAMN have some patience?? let the story UNFOLD MAYBE? IT WAS ALWAYS GOING TO HAVE AN EXPLANATION WHY WOULD YOU CRITICIZE THINGS THAT ARENT EVEN FINISHED ESPECIALLY AN INDIE ANIMATION- i digress)

mind you, this has NOTHING to do with abuse. an abusive relationship is one where one is actively harming the other with full awareness. Stella is an abuser and their marriage is abusive.

and stolitz isn't that; it isn't even unhealthy or toxic. it's a consensual, transactional fuckbuddy relationship that slid into something more for both of them.

but!!!!! one of the main reasons for the problems that everyone looks over is-

they're in a BDSM relationship.

I can't possibly delve into dynamics without making this a 10k research paper BUT even though we've gotten only hints and costumes and dialogue- they're very clearly and undeniably in a BDSM contract. Behind the scenes of this crazy show is a whole different story, of these two delving into the most hardcore kinks out there- knifeplay, painplay, bondage.

if you've gotten into the community, if you've read a couple dozen particularly good fics by authors who know what they're talking about, hell; even if your only experience is fifty shades or 365 or whatever- you gotta know that BDSM scenes are crazy fucking emotionally heavy. there's so much that has gone down between them during their full moons that helluva can't get into!!

but you know how in so many of these popular medias and fics, the dom in the relationship is also like,, the billionaire/mafia heir/prince, etc, the one with financial and physical power? this isnt that. it has been very clearly stated that stolas is subbing, blitz is domming.

now take a moment and think about how much that fucks up the dynamics.

in stolas' eyes, blitz is a confident, dangerous individual who's an old friend and cherished memory of his, who he's trusted wholly with his safety during sex and he's lucky to have; and he has been in an abusive arranged marriage for the past eighteen Years, he's probably not going to be pushing his luck with his dom that much in the first place. plus, blitz is never cowed by him during their conversations- think back to the first phone call right after he stole the book, completely unafraid.

and for blitz, it's someone trusting him again- but it's also a royal- a blue blood who's nearly untouchable and so much more powerful- who couldn't possibly like a piece of shit like him, apart from the sex he gets out of it. he only flirts once he gets some sort of cue from Stolas; he's desperately trying to view this as only a Goetia trying to get his rocks off, despite all the evidence to the contrary, because anything else is unfathomable to him, no matter how clearly Stolas shows it, because of the ptsd.

both of them thinks the other has the power. both of them aren't expecting the other to keep shut if something's bothering them.

and there's so much conflicting messages from the other too!

stolas calls him a plaything when trying to intimidate the humans; stolas cups his face gently and asks if he's alright

blitz asks him on a date and tells him to get better soon; blitz yells that it's only sex and doesn't reply to his messages

ya see?

bring it to fizzozzie for a second now; even though they do look all good on surface, you can still see fizz's trauma and doubt in all their interactions, they're still forced to keep the relationship secret. do you see his face when Ozzie says in hyperbole that he's never leaving the house again, or when someone accuses him of being a pampered house pet or when he got sexualized in the 7th ep? whatever happened in the interim between the accident with mammon, it fucked him UP. even though oz seems to be well aware of this when he tells him not to apologise and in their general interactions, fizz still visibly has trouble separating plaything/commodity from healthy relationship.

shout the fuck out to Ozzie btw, man knows whats UP. rooting for these two so much omg.

i forgot where I was going with this point, I'll edit it when i remember. but yeah! lovely fucking relationship, but damn what angst filled issues.

anyway, to sum up- stolitz is not a toxic relationship. the relationship is stuck sludging through misunderstandings and careless microaggressions and trauma responses, but it's not unhealthy or toxic because of the simple reason that most of the current hurt comes from... a misunderstanding. stolas didn't realise blitz would need reassurance about what they were and blitz didn't see stolas as someone who could get hurt.

unecessarily calling it toxic, even online, is more impactful than people think too. almost all spindlehorse ARE on all social medias; so MANY YouTube animators i know have found jobs there; they see your words, especially since a lot don't tag posts with "anti hb" correctly to keep them out of the main tag. there are Very few queer medias made BY queer people that haven't gone through heavy corporate revisions- helluva boss is practically a historical landmark in its success. it's very very very fucking easy to forget that not ten years ago some of the only queer videos on YouTube were butter lover (one kiss at the end post credits), dirty paws and welcome to hell (subtext).

the amount of "critical talk" helluva boss gets for what it is is very unprecedented. it's a beautiful show. can't wait for the next episode.

[awordsmith]

where you came from 𝜗𝜚 s.r

۶ৎ in which you receive a letter detailing the death of your grandfather, head back to your hometown, and wonder if you ever should have left.

katcember

who? spencer reid x bau!reader when? s8 category: angst to fluff (comfort) content warnings: proofed! not much sad angst (more sad angst if that makes any sense), death of a family member/funeral, reader's hometown is in Europe (purely for aesthetic), more plot than spencer (kind of idk) reid with warmth word count: 11.2k a/n: this was my one of my first ideas when first posting on tumblr so i really do hope you enjoy it! there are a few words not in english, but sometimes when writing in english it's easier to say something in another language because english can be really...corny sometimes...anyway ily cari !!

The loops and curves connecting the words in that elegant font you grew up learning stuck in the back of your mind like a non-removable tumor. You could feel it. You had a time limit–but not to live. Two days. In two days you would go back to Europe, back to a continent you had thought you’d left behind years ago, a place you had thought you held no attachment to… no emotion.

Maybe, though, it was the fact that you had been gone so long, had not once gone to visit in all your time in America, and now–now your time had run out–or rather, another, no longer invisible hourglass had lost the last of its sand and someone had flipped it again, setting a new timeline in motion.

Your grandpa, your beloved nonno*–oh how you just couldn’t believe it. 

It had hit you so suddenly, your mother normally sent you letters, you didn’t mind her old ways, she was raised by the man who taught you cursive and calligraphy–with craft you thought ancient, and technology was still rather new, and she wasn’t one to conform to change.

You sighed, shifting in your seat as Hotch and the rest of the team gave the profile. The lights were too bright; you stared at the floor, one leg crossed over the other, and your arms folded. You tried keeping your focus. Yes, you were dealing with your own problems, and yes, you had just gotten the letter yesterday, but these children needed you now–and if you couldn’t be at your best with a personal issue weighing on your shoulders, could you even call yourself an FBI agent?

Emily had just left the team a month ago and her replacement wasn’t bad, but she wasn’t Emily. You desperately needed your friend right now, your soul sister. She could tell you what to do and how to handle things like this, she’s been doing this a lot longer than you, has more experience–and she understood you, at least where family matters were concerned.

“You okay?” Spencer whispered as the officers went back to their desks or collected in groups–some even leaving–probably to talk about the best course of action. This guy was going to strike again, every indication of it was there on the board.

“Yeah,” you sighed, feeling your stomach growl.

He furrowed his brows, “when’s the last time you ate?”

“Uhm,” you stood, rubbing your wrist, “I’m not sure, but I’m fine, really,” you gave him a tight smile walking over to the board, “We know he’s targeting school busses on their drop off, he’s insecure about something, his physical strength? That’s the only reason he’d subdue the bus driver in a blitz attack.”

Spencer called your name–almost as a whine–and you paused. “Look,” he said, “I don’t think the rest of the team’s noticed, so if you eat, I won’t say anything…”

You frowned, rubbing an eye, “fine.”

You’d think a look of triumph came over him, but you’d be wrong. He looked resigned, but not indifferent, it was more of a soft relief. Spencer had no idea what you were going through, you hadn’t told anyone–and you weren’t really planning on it. You liked to keep your personal life separate from work as much as possible, that’s one of the reasons you and Emily had clicked so well–you were nearly identical in that department, and, well, you both could agree Clyde was a little bit of an ass. You’d never worked directly with her during her Interpol days, but when she left, Clyde became your team lead, and–well, actually, that’s, pretty self-explanatory.

A few years in, you were able to transfer to the BAU, you’d performed considerably well and Clyde had recommended and vouched for you and–well, Emily knew Clyde, okay perhaps your connections helped a little, but was it really your connections or your skill because without your skill, you wouldn’t have been recommended now would you have?

Regardless, you had known how massive the opportunity was, which is why you’d said yes without a second thought. You joined the team two years ago, when Emily had shown no sign of leaving. You sighed, rubbing your hands together, they were sweaty and you felt sick, maybe you should try eating something.

“Alright,” you affirmed again, “come on you’re driving.”

You threw the keys that had been lying on the table next to the board at Spencer, he’d been close to Emily too, you assumed they still spoke sometimes when they got the chance as you did with her. Your mutual bond was probably–at least you considered it the most probable–reason for why you grew so close in such a short amount of time.

You were close in age, too, which you assumed added to the comfort.

Spencer took you to the closest fast food and you ate in the car devouring each bite. He asked for coffee and “real” sugar on the side, and then he sat there and watched you eat, and when you were finished he drove you back to the police station. 

The case took you to Santa Monica, California. Penelope had ushered you all into the room as soon as you’d got into the office this morning, honestly, you were expecting it, and with the hurriedness she had, you knew it couldn’t be anywhere near good–though you considered none of the cases you received “good”, this one involved children, and it seemed they were the prime target, but what you couldn’t figure out was why.

He didn’t kill all the children–in fact, in both cases, the unsub only killed three kids; it seemed as if he was targeting specific children, but they all came from relatively different backgrounds, and both schools–when considering the environment and looking at it from a geographical perspective–weren’t at all in near-to-similar neighborhoods. Even the two kids that were killed on the same bus had no connection, they weren’t friends, the witnesses said the boys stayed away from each other unintentionally, they just never seemed to cross paths and it just did not make sense.

You wanted–no needed–to figure this out, for the next potential victims–but the team had no clue as to which school he’d hit next. For this reason, Penelope was emailing schools at the masses to keep them on high alert.

“He’s targeting school buses,” you said, taking a sip of your water. “Not schools…” Spencer nodded and you asked, “Why?”

“Perhaps something happened to him on a school bus?”

“It’s important,” you agreed, “but wouldn’t that make him–like–fifteen?”

“No,” Spencer shook his head, “a fifteen-year-old wouldn’t have this much time, he’d have been caught by now.”

“The survivors say he wore a mask, he called the students by name–”

“But not their name–maybe he’s living in a delusion?” Spencer’s speaking sped up, “maybe he’s not fifteen but he’s reliving his teenage days. Maybe he was bullied and now he wants revenge?”

“Okay, but that doesn’t explain going after high school kids now. Why not just go after the people his anger is directed toward?”

“Because he can’t? Maybe they’re substitutes?”

“We need to tell the others.”

Spencer nodded, you rushed out of the car and into the police station, catching Morgan, Hotch, and JJ leaning over a phone, talking to Penelope. You explained your theory and funnily enough, Penelope had just found school records that supported it. Each victim had been suspended within the past year, accused of bullying or inflicting some type of physical or mental pain on another student.

Complaints about the victims were filed by students, so now you knew your unsub had access to all this information, the question was what title did someone need in order to garner this details.

“That has to be how he’s choosing his victims,” Morgan said.

Hotch thought for a second, then nodded, “All alright, call Rossi and Blake, tell them to get here, Penelope, are you still on?”

“Running and ready, sir,” she confirmed, “All alright, give me a list of the next potential targets, all kids who have been suspended or complained about in the last year due to bullying, narrow the search to males, fifteen older.”

“Sir, do you want me to narrow the search between the two schools?”

“No,” Hotch sighed, looking each of you in your eyes, “I want the entire city–”

“Hotch–” 

Spencer’s eyes narrowed in confusion, but Hotch cut him off, “you really want to sit around waiting for another body?”

Everyone went silent and Spencer’s eyes flitted to you for a moment, almost as in reassurance.

“He’s right, Hotch,” you stepped forward, trying to push away all thoughts of what was to be expected of you in two days.

“You,” Hotch narrowed his eyes as if just now suspecting something was up with you. 

A silent staring contest ensued, though it was quickly broken when an officer burst into your makeshift bullpen. “Another body was discovered.” Your heart sunk and you glanced to Spencer for comfort, his eyes drifting to yours for the same thing.

It always just seemed a little bit more painful when children were involved. Your stomach lurched and you felt sick, wanting to throw up the food you’d just eaten. You just wanted this all to be over so you could focus on your family issues. It might have been selfish, but wasn’t that your right? You couldn’t think about this right now, you needed to find this guy before he murdered another innocent kid.

“Give Garcia the geographical point and have her narrow the search.”

Hotch directed at Spencer, turning to JJ, “Stay here, help him and Rossi figure out what career our unsub might have. Morgan go Blake to check out the new crime scene, and,” he turned to you, “Come with me.”

You turned to Spencer one last time, not wanting to leave him. You were always together, working together, that is. Hotch never split you up so you thought there must be a reason for it now, but why, well, you couldn’t know for certain. You shook your head and followed him out the door. He seemed to wait for you with pause, his expression unreadable, almost like he was analyzing you. You tilted your head in warning and he finally relented.

“Let’s go.”

From that point forward, there wasn’t really much of a struggle, it just sucked you had been called in so late, and that another kid had died before you caught the guy. Four kids in total, three crime scenes. The ride back on the jet was tense.

Everyone seemed to need their own space whenever you dealt with a case like this, you, well, you’d play with Spencer’s hair, if you were really tired, he’d let you lean against his shoulder or use his lap as a pillow and sleep. This time, though, you were restless and you couldn’t find the need to sleep anywhere. You knew you probably should,but…it was just too much.

You couldn’t stay seated, you paced back and forth, your mind fleeting from the case to the letter you’d received yesterday. You’d brought it with you and you hesitated only for a second before pulling it from your bag and sitting in one of the empty rows. You could feel eyes on you, though they were trying to pretend they weren’t looking.

You wanted to say you could see them, say you weren’t in need of monitoring, but you were the youngest on the team, and despite your closeness, with Emily particularly, they all cared for you, which is why when JJ slid into the seat across from you you resisted rolling your eyes.

“Are you okay? You’ve been kind of… not yourself.”

“I’m fine, JJ, thanks.” You returned your eyes to your mother’s letter.

“You sure?” she asked, “is it your mother? Has something happened?”

She motioned toward the letter. They’d gotten accustomed to seeing you read over the renaissance looking artifacts throughout the day. That wasn’t the unusual part, no JJ was talking about how you weren’t attached to Spencer’s hip, how you avoided them all almost the entire day, and how you had been so focused on the case as if you were trying to make something else dissappear.

“We’re all here for you, you know.” She reached her hand out, rubbing her thumb over it.

“Yeah,” Morgan motioned for JJ to scoot over, “we’re a family, you know.”

“Aww, I wish I was there,” Penelope said from the other side of Morgan’s phone. You wanted to scoff, but a sad smile pressed to your mouth instead. They were cornering you as if they’d planned it.

Your eyes flitter over toward Rossi and Hotch who were pretending not to listen and Blake, who was evidently really not, then they landed on Spencer’s who stood suddenly from his normal spot in the front of the jet and began walking toward you. “See, even pretty boy’s upset.”

“I am not upset,” Spencer scoffed, sliding into the seat next to you. But then he held your gaze as if trying to communicate with his eyes, “but we are here for you, you know I’m always here, and…I’m sure if you called, Emily would be too.”

You took a breath, and when it came out it was shuddering, and that was the first time crying had crossed your mind. So, you said–first in general, “My grandfather just passed, I’m supposed to leave in two days for his funeral.” You let them take it in, then, “I need time off, Hotch.”

A snort came from Rossi and the team frowned at him, but you smiled, why was he so unserious all the time? You rolled your eyes, but then Penelope spoke up from the phone in Morgan’s pocket, “if you need someone to go with you, I’d be willing.”

Your eyes swelled at her offer and you opened your mouth to say ‘Really?’ but Spencer said, “I’d go too–you know, if you wanted that is,” before you could open your mouth.

“Thank you,” you nodded, “I’d like that…and you know…it wouldn’t hurt if the rest of you came as well,” your admission scared you, what were you doing? This is the exactly the opposite response Emily would have given, but maybe you weren’t as strong as Emily, and maybe…maybe that was okay.

“When are we leaving again?” Rossi sighed, pulling out his phone, “I’ll have to check my schedule.” And with that you let loose a snort, appreciating the kindness of your team.

“Jack, Will, and Henry are welcome to come as well.” You said, “And that girlfriend of yours, Hotch,” you added, “I think I’d be able to brave my family again if I had the Guardians of the Galaxy with me.”

“What about Strauss?” JJ suddenly asked, “What are we gonna tell her?”

“Oh you let me worry about her,” Blake smiled, though you had been sure she wasn’t even listening.

“You’re from Europe right?”

You huffed a sigh, “Yes, Rossi, I’m sure we’re not cousins.”

A few chuckled as Rossi responded with a nod and a smug grin,  “Just checking.”

You claimed the window seat, forcing Spencer to sit in the middle, though you had to climb over him multiple times to use the bathroom, you didn’t care, and neither did he…much. You thought you’d be able to sleep, but just like on the jet, you found yourself restless, and Spencer, well, he couldn’t help but ask.

The first question was simple, “how do you feel about going home?”

You laughed, a bitter expression framing your face, “I don’t know.” You were lying, though he wasn’t sure if you knew that fact yourself as you seemed genuine. The only way he knew for sure your response wasn’t what your subconscious truly thought was was by the way your lips pressed together right before you spoke, that was your tell.

He didn't know if you knew you did it, but he’d caught on to it pretty quickly when you’d first met, it had been something small, but he remembered it as clearly as if it were playing out right now in front of him. It had to do with your favorite food. Morgan had said he’d overheard you talking to Emily about how you wanted a certain order from this new restaurant because it tasted like the one you had back home, and to surprise you, he had brought it in one day and set it on your desk, brimming with energy to see your reaction.

You were confused at first, but when you saw him, you’d grinned, prying to box open, then your eyebrows had shot up and he’d asked you if it was your favorite food. You’d pressed your lips together and nodded, grimacing with the first bite, “I love it, thank you.”

Later on, he’d smacked Morgan for the first time upside the head, running away quickly after, Morgan had chased him for some time until Hotch had told them to stop acting like, “idiots,” and thst, “Jack acthas better self control than you two most days.”

“Do you have any pets at home?” He asked, watching you stretch out your arms above your head, deflating against your seat.

You smiled, “I used to have a dog, but she died before I left for university.”

“I’m sorry,” he frowned.

“Don’t be, she wasn’t really mine, but my sister’s.”

He nodded, it was early morning, everyone had gotten up way before they’d wanted to, except him. He was ready to go a bit too early, and when he’d picked you up at your apartment, it seemed as if you hadn’t slept much either.

“Hey, Spencer?” You suddenly whispered.

“Yeah?” He stared down at you as you began to move, causing him to shift until his body aligned with yours and your back hit his chest.

“Do you want to hear a boring story?” He quirked a brow, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face. To the normal eye, you seemed incredibly close, strangely close–a couple kind of close, but to the team and between the two of you, it was more like the relationship Penelope and Dereck had, although instead of heaty words, it was comforting gestures like this, that, and you were always attached at the hip, you were partners with each other before anyone else, work partners that is.

“What’s a boring story?” He asked and you didn’t know if he was trying to be poetic, but it brought a smile to your face.

“My grandfather,” you focussed your eyes on the window, finding warmth in being pressed against him, his arms acting as a blanket that wrapped around you. “He was old in age, I mean, I knew that even when I was a kid, but there were times,” you shook your head recalling the moments in your mind.

Spencer kept quiet, listening intently as he rubbed circles on the exposed inner corner of your elbow.

“He would take me on adventures and back then, he seemed so young, so exceptionally immortal. It was otherworldly,” your voice got quieter as you continued, “I don’t know how to face him,” you sighed–God it seemed like all you could do for the past 45 hours was sigh.

“Tell me,” he whispered, “tell me about the adventures.”

You paused, turning your head slightly to see him, you’d done this countless times, but for some reason, it seemed more pertinent now. More….significant, “my grandad,” you murmured, “he was my captain. That was the game. We’d go to the pier sometimes, or the forest, and he’d always have these elaborate scavenger hunts set up in advance. He really–” you blinked and breathed, “...he was really good at things like that.”

“Setting up games?” Spencer asked incredulously, but you knew it was good-natured, meant to bring the smile that had so evidently fallen off back to your face.

“At crafting and cultivating imagination.”

“Ah,” Spencer nodded, “yeah how did I miss that?”

You smacked is chest playfully.

“How do you feel about seeing your family, how long has it been?”

You gazed out the window again, there was low chatter around the plain, it was dark, the lights were off, and most people were asleep. You pondered briefly about why Spencer was still up and deigned to ask him when sunlight shone through the window, blinding you momentarily. It wasn’t a lot nor was it as bright as you were used to, and it was quickly hidden behind the clouds once more, but you smiled at it anyway.

“A new beginning,” you raised your hand, blocking the slight sunlight that filtered in now and then, not really sure what you meant.

Spencer chuckled, reaching out to grab your wris. He held it, waving it around as if you were casting a non-verbal spell.

“We don’t have to talk about it now,” he whispered, “but whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

“I know you will,” you replied as easily as if you hadn’t said anything at all. “You always are.”

And again, for a moment, you pondered why that was, why Spencer always seemed to be the only person–other than Emily–who was always there for you when you needed someone, why he was the only person you wanted there when things went wrong. 

It was a question that had bubbled up over the last month since Emily had left. You’d begun to lean on him a lot more, yes, but you could very well just have as easily called Emily. Spencer wasn’t lying, you knew she would pick up no matter what, but oddly, you found you didn't want to call her because–you already had the person you needed with you. And he would always be there, even if you stopped working together, Spencer would always be there.

You were sure you could call him in the middle of the night and he’d come running. But why would you want to? You shook the dangerous thought away. 

“It’s sunrise,” he said, pulling your attention back to the window. Slowly, he brought your hand to once again rest on your stomach.

“We still have about 5 hours,” you sighed, noting the time.

He leaned back, shifting in his seat, “Then we better get comfortable.”

You wondered what you’d do first when you landed, would you have so much jet lag you wouldn’t be able to see your family for some time? Would you be able to sleep? Finally? Where would your grandpa be? Probably at the funeral home. Would other family members be traveling into the city for the funeral? If they were they’d have to stay at the main house, there wewould be no other space available in the others.

You were only staying three days, and if Stauss called you in early, you’d have no choice, but to leave before that. You were able to solve one more case before you left, though you had still strained for sleep, everyone else seemed to be a little overly excited. Blake stayed to help other teams, she was new and you weren’t that close, though she didn’t seem to mind.

She was like Rossi in that department, unable to take days away from work as she ran on catching these guys. But for you, and everyone else on the team, you were sure, you couldn’t wait for your days off.

They were the closest thing you got to normalcy, that and time with Spencer outside of work, it was time in your world, one where bad guys didn’t exist, one where you could escape into the realities of a Charlotte Bontë novel, one your grandpa had gifted you before you could remember a life without it.

You wanted to thank Spencer, but you didn’t know how. You wanted to thank everyone, really, but Spencer most of all, and instead of thinking about why, of letting it plague your thoughts, you leaned further into him, rubbed your face into his soft sweater vest, and closed your eyes.

Penelope threw her head back as she grabbed her suitcase, “where to now?” Spencer pushed her sunhat out of the way. She was in for a rude awakening, it was winter in Europe, and though most people were on holiday, that only meant the airports would be extra lively.

“First, let’s make sure we have everyone.” You began counting of heads, narrowing your eyes, “where’s Hotch?”

“We’re here!” Jack came running, Hotch sprinting after him. It was not too odd a sight, for you to see Hotch in dad mode, he normally had that look on when Spencer did something stupid or Penelope said too much on speaker–but this, oh this was gold.

Rossi snapped a photo with an old camera he’d brought along, chuckling when Hotch glared at him. “Alright,” you nodded, noting Hotch’s girlfriend slowly filling the space beside him. “Now, my immediate family isn’t that big, but the rest of the family does live in the same town, so you’ve all been assigned housemates.”

“Housemates?” JJ raised a brow.

“I’ll,” you checked the time, “explain on the train, come on.”

You were honestly surprised everyone had come, you’d invited them because you truly had thought them being here would lessen the pain, but to think that they all wanted to be here for you as well, even Rossi had come–and he hated taking vacation time. Though, the most surprising had to be the fact that Blake had actually succeeded in getting Straus to let you all come.

You stayed together, it was easy for some, though others kept getting sidetracked. You stopped a few times to look at a few shops and monuments, though you kept explaining to Penelope she’d have more than enough time later to go on her mini explorations.

You supposed it was normal though, that was how you were your first time in America–your first time in any new country or state, really. Most everyone had never been to Europe, even for you it felt like stepping into a storybook. You hadn’t been home in so long, it was like a lost memory.

Though afternoon, the day was getting dark already, and people were milling about, readying for Christmas–your heart lurched, and though you tried not thinking about him too much, you couldn’t help but wonder if your grandfather had been alone during his passing, what were his last words? His last thoughts? Rainclouds not only drew to the sky but your mind as well.

You felt more than guilty, that was the only way you could describe the horrid emotion twisting in your gut ever since you’d received the letter. You hadn’t seen your parents–your sister–face to face in a long time. It was part of the guilt of moving to America without giving them a heads up and for leaving when you knew they wanted you to stay.

Your older sister had stayed, why couldn’t you have? There really was no explanation other than you just couldn’t. It felt small, suffocating. You loved your hometown, but eventually, you knew there had to be something more out there, something more calling your name, and the longer you stayed, the more you buried that feeling, the less motivated to do anything you got.

So, you saved up during your uni days and took the first position in America you’d found, which is how you ended up at Interpol, climbing the ranks slowly but surely and eventually working with Clyde.

You reached the train station, the cool weather making everything around you a tint of blue. The benches that sat in front of the train tracks were taken up by Jack, Henry, and Will, who’d been carrying a ton of baby supplies. You paused, checked your watch again, nodded, and turned your face toward everyone again, “Alright people, here’s the plan. My family knows you're coming, one of the reasons they were okay with it is because we own a few properties and can house you all, hence your housemates, or if you prefer, hosts.” You glanced at JJ, “You, Will, and Henry will be staying with my sister and her husband. She has two kids so she’s used to the noise.”

You had thought about letting Hotch stay with your sister, but that would have just been too weird. No, instead you’d paired Hotch up with one of your cousins, who was married, but had no kids. Jack was older, no longer in diapers, and had a controlled temper, so it seemed perfect.

You relayed this information and moved on, “Penelope and Morgan, you’re staying with my aunt and uncle on my dad’s side, trust me, you’ll be thanking me–and Rossi, you’re with my aunt an uncle on my mom’s side Is that everyone then?” You looked around, nodding.

“Hang on,” Rossi held up a hand, “I don’t like the way you said that last part.”

“That’s everyone then?” You ignored him, “All alright, the train should be here–” You cut off your sentence as the train pulled into the station, “...right on time.”

 Waiting your turn to step onto the train as people made their way off, you felt around in your pocket for the letter one last time, sighing in relief when you it was still there. You grabbed your suitcase and began pulling it aboard the train when Spencer grabbed your arm and held you back. You glanced at everyone else boarding the train, making sure you had time before turning back, “Uhm,” he frowned, looking awkward, “where am I staying?”

“Hmm?” Your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at your watch again, “with me and my parents.” You said it so simply, as if it were an afterthought–as if it was so incredibly obvious that you didn’t think you had to mention it.

“Oh,” he didn’t know how to feel, he was a little embarrassed, but there was something else…sick? He didn’t know, but it made him bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

“Come on,” you latched your hand onto his wrist and yanked him onto the train, “before it leaves without us.”

You honestly wanted to go straight to your parent's house, but you knew you had to introduce your co-workers/friends to your family so when you left it wasn’t so weird, though the only one who complained was Rossi, you couldn’t blame him, but at the same time you found it funny. He swore up and down you had put him in this position on purpose and he didn’t find it funny–“Not one bit,” he’d said right before you left him in his room. “I’ll get you back for this,” he’d warned.

Once you’d left JJ, Will, and Henry at your sisters–she hadn’t been home, thank God, as you didn’t think you could face her just yet–you and Spencer hailed a cab and had all but drifted off to sleep during the ride to your childhood home. Your mom had been the firstborn, so she’d gotten the main house, though your grandparents never left. They had kind acted as your second parents growing up and you were incredibly close, especially you and your grandfather…and now he was gone. You bit the inner corner of your cheek, feeling like you wanted to cry but just couldn’t find the comfort to do so.

Spencer noticed, of course, that you were leaning on him, and had been the entire cab ride. When the it came to a stop in front of a large, three-story Victorian house, he hesitated before shaking you awake. He wouldn’t have done it if he knew what to do, but this wasn’t his house and this was the first time he was going to meet your parents, though it excited him, he couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason why.

You were like–his platonic soulmate, nothing had ever happened between you two and just because you were going to be sleeping in the same house, probably a few feet apart, didn’t mean anything was going to start now. Morgan slept at Penelope’s all the time and though Spencer always suspected they were more, nothing had ever happened, which meant it was possible for a guy and a girl to just be friends–and yet, here is was, palms sweating, mind running, mouth drying as he walked up the trail leading to the front door of your parent’s house.

A knock, and hushed whispers, and then the door opened, your mother standing in the doorway with a bright smile on her face. She called your name and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a hug. You wondered if your grandpa was at the funeral home still, if he was cold, which was a stupid thought, he couldn’t feel anything, he was gone, no longer here roaming the earth, telling his outdated jokes and taking you on secret journey’s, and you were no longer that little girl who laughed at his outdated jokes and believed in the magic of his secret journeys.

When you pulled away your mother, with her now thinning, grayed hair pulled into a tight ponytail and the wrinkles lining her frail face–said, “Oh, let me get a look at you.” 

She took a step back and that’s when your father came into view, “Dad,” you smiled, the feeling almost overwhelming.

He pulled you into another hug, and just when you didn’t know if you could handle seeing one more relative you hadn’t seen in ages, your grandmother shouted from somewhere on the first floor, “Is that her? Is she here?”

Your heart seized itself and you took a step back, unknowingly stepping into Spencer’s personal space. You turned to apologize, but your grandmother had already wobbled in on her two dainty legs, as quickly as she could have if in her prime. Her old crone eyes narrowed, “nice of you to grace us with your presence.” She sprinkled salt on the floor as she glowered.

“Mom,” your mother groaned.

“What?” She crossed her arms and turned her head as if she had things better to do than welcome the granddaughter–who’d left everything behind–back into her life.

“It’s fine, Mom,” you reassured as your father went to close the door behind you’d walked in, Spencer gled to your back.

Your grandmother stomped out of the room in old lady fashion. “How are you dear? Have you been getting my letters?”

You cringed, “Yes,” though you never sent one back, you did always text a message, thanking your mom for writing you, she’d only heart it, though, which left you wondering if maybe you should’ve picked up a pen and paper. “I keep them all secure in a drawer.”

She nodded, a placid smile falling to her lips, “Well, you must be tired and–” she glanced at you, then at Spencer, then at your father and held his gaze for a moment before returning her eyes to you, “who’s your…”

“Oh, this is Spencer,” you patted his chest as if that was explanation enough.

Your mother nodded, not really sure how to take it, she turned to Spencer, hoping he’d offer a little more information, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Spencer stared at her hand, contemplating and you were just about to say something about it when he reached out and shook it. Slack-jawed, you eyed him suspiciously, turning away in a huff. When you’d first met him, he’d refused to shake your hand, sure he had come a long way since then, but it still annoyed you for some reason.

“Come, let me show you your rooms.”

Your mother led you up the starcase than faded into a small stairwell, leading up to the second floor. The wood was old mahogany, though you weren’t paying much attention to it. At the end of the left hall was another staircase that led to the third floor, but even half awake you knew it was probably locked. It always had been. 

You recognized the wallpaper, a deep, forest green and you half wondered if the wallpaper in your bedroom had changed, if it had been converted into a guest bedroom. Your mother gave Spencer the guest room down the hall. You waved goonight to him before heading into your room. He paused his eyes taking in your childhood home.

It was so incredibly different from his, but it also felt…small. You were this giant, bubble of energy and a quiet town in Europe just dind’t seem to add up to your personality. He sighed and pulled open the door, you weren’t a few steps away like he had hoped, but you were close enough. He stopped himself–this was completely bizarre, even for him. This was more up–well, he didn’t know, but it wasn’t up his alley.

Tired, you’d turned in for the night, though your eyes caught on all the things you’d left behind, you told yourself you’d look at it in the morning. You were glad everyone was here supporting you, you were especially glad to have Spencer–were glad he came, but then of course he came, that was just the kind of person he was.

You turned off the lamp on the bedside table, burying your face in the sheets, finding yourself still unable to cry, but whispering, “You would have liked him a lot, nonno*.” Which was madness, firstly, why did it matter if you grandfather would have liked Spencer or not. Secondly, your grandfather was gone, and the whole reason you were here was because of that fact. Maybe you just couldn’t accept it yet and that’s why you were thinking all these weird thoughts, why you couldn't cry.

You sighed, shutting your eyes, hoping you wouldn’t dream; to face tomorrow, you would just need sleep. Sleep and a lot of quiet.

You cracked open one eye, light trickling in through the curtains though it wasn’t bright. You left your door ajar as you headed toward the bathroom. There was soft chatter on the first floor, and you were sure your grandmother and parents were awake. The faint aroma of coffee wafted through the air and you wondered if Spencer was up too.

You didn’t have to wait long to find out as he stepped out of the bathroom just as you went to open the door. His hair was wet and he was wearing a white collared shirt under a brown sweater vest. He smiled when he saw you, though your eyes were drawn to the water dripping down his forehead. He was holding a towel, you assumed to try and dry it, though it looked if he hadn’t had much success.

“Morning.” You murmured.

“Good morning,” he echoed, stepping out of the way. “You’re parents said I could,” he motioned behind him, pressing his lips together when you raised a brow. He nodded, “hurry? I am kind of nervous.”

You snorted and shook your head, “sure thing, piccolo*.”

You shut the bathroom door behind you, feeling an airy sensation float through your body as you began pulling your clothes off.

Half an hour later, you found Spencer in his room still trying to dry his hair. “You should just let it air dry.” You voiced, tucking a lock of your own wet hair behind your ear.

He looked up when you opened the door, sighing, and setting the hand towel to the side. His hair was nearly dry, though he was trying to get the wet bits in the back. 

You huffed, climbing on the bed and sitting behind him on your knees, “let me see it.” You began massaging the now-damp towel into his hair, trying to use the little dry parts it still had left. He chuckled, jerking his head slightly when the towel rubbed a sensitive spot. You smirked, “that tickle?”

He huffed another laugh, “stop,” he called your name in warning, “I’m serious.”

You laughed, running the towel teasingly up and down his neck. He jerked and eventually jumped up, pushing you backward on accident. He launched a tickle attack, fingers jabbing at your sides, your neck, under your arms, and when you thought he couldn’t get any worse, he sought your feet, your sockless feet.

“Okay!” You snorted, “Okay, you win!”

“What?” He asked, staring down at you with triumph.

“Oh, don’t be an ass.” 

He grinned playfully, but relented, “Alright, come on, your parents probably want to see you.”

You huffed a sigh and threw your head back, the pillows coming to its rescue as you let your hands come to rest on your stomach, “do we have to?” His grin eased into a gentle smile and you gave in, jumping up, “Yeah, fine.” 

You headed downstairs, passing picture frames from past relatives. There were so many ancient trinkets that your generations had left behind, Spencer said it was like walking through time, and it honestly was. Not just because the house was built in the middle 1800s, but because everything from the wallpaper to the furniture, and right down to the people still living in it–had that reminiscent aura about them.

“Nice of you to join us.” Your grandmother said as you walked in, “And who’s this, a boyfriend?”

Your mother sent hers a warning glare before turning back to you, “good morning, please sit,” she motioned toward the breakfast table.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Spencer said taking the seat beside you, “again.”

Your mother laughed and waved a hand, “There is no need for formalities, but I do want to thank you for coming.” She glanced at you momentarily, but you avoided her eyes. You knew you would eventually have to speak to everyone again, but you weren’t ready for that yet.

“So, how long have you been dating my daughter?” Your father asked. You would have choked on the tea had you drunk any prior. Your eyes widened instead and you turned to Spencer apologetically, but he didn’t seem at all fazed, “we’re just friends.”

His smile seemed content, but your grandmother scoffed. You turned to her, almost already fed up with the little attitude that’d been present since your arrival. You knew she had always preferred the company of your sister, and she detested you for leaving without a word–not to her, but to your grandfather.

You frowned, wanting to ask about it, but you couldn’t find words that would bring the least amount of sadness to the room. 

“Are you going out today?” Your father changed the subject, turning toward Spencer. He seemed to catch on to the fact that you were uncomfortable, so he directed all his questions at your beloved pretty boy.

Spencer answered them with ease–to which you knew you’d be in debt. An hour went by and Penelope was blowing up the team group chat, asking when you were meeting up. Eventually, you knew you’d have to take her around town and to be honest, you could use a little distraction from the looming presence of being around the rest of your family when they got in this afternoon.

“When will you be back?” Your mother asked

“Not sure,” you replied, more clipped than you meant for it to be.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on her,” Spencer reassured, trying to ease the tension.

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” your grandmother poked her head out of nowhere.

You shot her a glare and said, “Is this your way of seeing me off?”

Shocked by your reply, she tutted and jerked her head away, with closed eyes and crossed arms. You rolled your eyes, whispering, “see you later,” in the softest voice you could manage.

“That was…”

You huffed, wrapping your arms around yourself, “tell me about it.”

“So…your grandmother…”

“She hates me because I left, deep down they all do.” You frowned, but no tears came, they seemed to evade you.

Spencer pressed his lips together, normally he had the perfect response for anything you said, but you never spoke about your family. You were always sure to draw a boundary, you were very much like Emily in that sense, or at least he thought so.

You took a cab to the pier, agreeing to meet at the beach seemed simple. There were a few people, mostly locals though, your hometown wasn’t a place tourists normally visited. The main reason this town was able to survive was because a lot of the residents were wealthy, and that wealth stayed in the family and–well, the families stayed here.

“Woah,” Penelope yelped at the fourth store you stopped in, “we have to look around,” she said, eye-widening. Jack and Henry were milling about together, looking at little trinkets. You recognized the shop, it was an antique toy store–your grandfather had bought all your gifts over the years from this one in particular, some were secondhand, but they were sentimental to you and you had taken a few with you when you’d moved to America. 

“Babygirl, calm down.” Morgan laughed, following her down an aisle.

“How’s everyone settling in?” You asked, turning to Rossi when he huffed and muttered something under his breath. “What was that?” You leaned in, grinning.

Spencer pulled you back just as Rossi glared and called you a sadist. “We’re doing fine, your sister is nice.” JJ smiled, “she was asking about you,” she paused, waiting to see if it was an alright topic of conversation. When she realized you were waiting patiently for her to continue, she did, “she said she was sorry for not being home when you dropped us off. She wanted to catch up.”

You took a breath, your cheeks seemingly hot in the cold weather. “I know it’s not my place,” Will started, catching your eyes, “...but I…I think you should talk to her…”

You frowned at him, contemplating, then you nodded, sigh slipping past your lips, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Oh!” Penelope shouted, “Gelato, my phone says there’s a gelato place right around the corner!” 

You noticed Morgan walking up behind her when a laugh–though it sounded more like a croak–rang through your ears. “Your phone would be correct,” an old woman rounded the counter, short as could be. Her eyes bounced from face to face, settling on yours, “I told your old wench of a grandmother you’d come back. Were it for anything it’d be for him.” She sighed, “Come here, let me have a spin, my God how long has it been?”

You wanted to say eight years, but you neglected that subject and instead focussed your memory on figuring out who this woman was. 

“Hmm,” she hummed after a moment, taking a step back, her arms so incredibly bony they looked as if they might snap with the slightest pressure. Her pallor was somewhat tanned, and there were a few black spots up and down her exposed skin.

“You’re nonna’s old classmate.” It clicked, she was always stopping by the house in your earlier days, and she’d sometimes sit on the wraparound porch, sipping wine with your grandmother.

“Did you forget me already capretta*?” She chuckled as if she’d made a joke.

The rest of your group had deemed the conversation not there’s to listen in on, so they’d taken to wandering around the shop, the only one who stayed–partially because he wanted to and partially because you’d grabbed his wrist when he had tried walking away–was Spencer.

“I’m not a little girl anymore,” you murmured, “you shouldn’t call me that.”

“Oh, you’ll always be capretta* to me, you and all the others.” She smiled, her beady eyes watching you for a moment, as if expecting you to do something brash. Eventually, she said, “his funeral is tomorrow, yes?”

“Yeah,” saying it brought out a wave of pain. Your mouth felt heavy and your stomach dropped to your feet.

She nodded, “have you decided what you’re going to say?”

You shook your head, “I won’t be speaking.”

She paused, disappointment flashing across her face, “well, I’m sorry to hear that.” You pressed your lips together and began turning away, ready to get out of this uncomfortable situation, but she wasn’t finished, “you know, I’m sure he’s happy you’re here.”

Spencer watched you close your eyes, take a deep, shuddering breath, and open them carefully. He watched them gloss over and without thinking about it, snaked a hand behind your back, as if holding you to this earth would help you in some way, unbeknownst to him, it did. His touch grounded you, and you thought, another debt to be owed.

“You’re amante*,” she said right before you walked back outside.

“He’s not my–” you waved your hands but your your words faltered as she shook a cloth at you, a knowing smile adorning her face.

“Maybe not yet, capretta*.”

You sighed, yanking Spencer outside. “What did she say?” He asked as if he couldn’t use damned context clues.

“Nothing,” you responded, but Rossi raised an eyebrow, holding up his hands when you shot him a look, your eyes flashing in warning. 

The other’s finally joined you outside and you spent a few more hours acting as a tour guide. When you deemed it time to go home, you told everyone to be ready in formal attire around 8, the rest of your family would be coming in, staying at the main house as it was the last place that still had room, and a small party would ensue. Everyone only came together for weddings and funerals so they tended to make the most of it.

You weren’t really looking forward to seeing the rest of your cousins, hell you could barely face your immediate family, extended seemed a little too much too soon.

You thought about hiding up in your room, you hadn't had much time to take it in yet and you thought it might help.

Relatives started arriving around 7:30. Spencer had wandered down to your room and knocked, though you could hear the hesitation in it. “Come in,” you said, sitting up.

He walked through, shutting the door softly behind him. “So this is where I find all your secrets.” He chirped, an easy smile settling on his face as joined you on the bed, leaning back. “It’s pink,” he noted.

“Hey,” you said, “the wallpaper came with the room.”

He huffed a laugh, his eyes catching on a few blankets stacked neatly on a shelf linear your bed, “are those your baby blankets?”

“No,” you laid back down, the lamp at your side dimming slightly. “I think I stole those from my sister.”

He smiled, “I wonder what it’s like to have a sibling.”

You smiled, recalling all the idiotic fights you’d get into, how your parents would send you two to your room until you, “learned to love each other”. “She’s older by a few years,” your voice carried through the silent room, though it was lively on the first floor. You suddenly remembered you had a third, but you couldn’t recall a single memory of you being allowed there as is had always been locked.

“Do you want to talk about her?” He asked after a while.

You debated, on one hand, it might be good practice for when you spoke to her, on the other hand, what would you even say? You had no idea how she’d been these past eight years, what her life was like. What could you say and so you said, “ask me about her.”

He hummed for a moment, falling on, “why’d you steal the blankets?”

Your lips pressed together and you tried piecing together an accurate depiction of the event. “Well, she’d got them on a trip with our grandmother. My grandfather and I had been on an adventure, I think we were in the forest, I can’t remember,” you sat up and pushed yourself off the bed, walking over to the dresser and bending down to the shelf that held the blankets.

Spencer sat up, letting his eyes follow you, he felt warm, not anxious. Though his mind was working slowly, he found he didn’t mind. You seemed to calm everything down for him, it was a sense of comfort he hadn’t known he’d needed until you came into his life, and his headaches from before had slowly ceased the closer the two of you got.

“This one,” you held up, “was originally hers.” You brought it to him as he pushed himself to the edge of the bed, his feet sprawled around you. You didn’t think twice before stepping in between him, but you had never done that before and it caught him off guard. You had never been in such proximity when you were both wide awake, and you certainly had never faced each other like this.

Nevertheless, he didn’t mind–in fact, he was finding it increasingly obvious that he preferred you to be as close to him as possible. He ran a hand over the smooth ruffles of the white blanket. It was pleaded with light pink embroidery. “You should give it to your daughter.” He heard himself say, though his throat went dry right after. 

“You think so?” You found yourself wanting to be closer to him–as if I’m not close enough, you scolded yourself.

“Yeah,” he looked up at you, and gosh–it looked like he wanted you, and gosh–you felt your heartbeat speed up.

Your body moved on its own, stepping forward, loving the way his legs close together to entrap you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, dropping the blanket down beside him. You lifted your knees onto either side of his waist and sat in his lap, his arms snaking around your hips. “Hi,” you murmured, a nervous–almost hesitant–expression falling over your features.

His eyes flitted between your lips and your eyes, but he managed to force out a, “hi.”

You bit your lip and it drew his gaze instantly, you could feel his heart palpitate in his chest, almost as fast as yours. His eye fluttered close and his head fell back when you ran your hands through his hair. You didn’t know what you were doing, you told yourself multiple times, unsure of why this was happening–now of all times, oh your sweet nonno! Forgive me, you pleaded.

You angled your head forward, ready to do the one thing you’d knew your subconscious had been wanting for God knew how long, but then a knock sounded on the door and Spencer’s eyes opened once again.

“Who–” you cleared your throat, “who is it?”

“Uhm,” a nervous chuckle came from the other side of the door, “it..it’s me.” Your sister. You cursed, glanced at Spencer, then with an apologetic look, unraveled yourself from his embrace.

You walked toward the door, trying to fix your nettled clothing in the process. You took a breath and paused, then opened the door. Your sister stood there, tall, lean, and elegant, as you remembered her to be. “Hi,” she smiled, tilting her head.

You smiled back, trying your best to not give away what had just been going on–what the actual hell was just going on? You wanted to contemplate it more, wanted to ask yourself what the hell you thought you were doing–but refrained from doing so in the moment.

“Can…can I come in?”

You tensed, your eyes darting behind you and Spencer stood, throwing you an understanding glance. Your sister took a step back as he left the room, eyes following him as he disappeared somewhere down the hall. You swallowed and shifted out of the doorway, “come in.”

She raised an eyebrow but kept quiet upon you lifting a hand. 

“How have you been?” She asked once you shut the door. 

You thought about your answer, settling for, “good,” because you had been good, you had been very good, up until you got that letter.

“That’s good,” she responded, looking around the room, smiling, “you know, mom kept it just the way you had it when you left.”

You nodded, yes, you had noticed that, but you weren’t sure how you felt about it just yet.

“What’s this?” She walked toward your bed, where Spencer had been not a minute ago. She picked up the dainty blanket and sat down, steering clear of the part that had been undoubltey rumpled by Spencer. “Oh,” she said as if just recalling, “it’s the blanket I gave you.”

Your eyebrows scrunched together, you distinctly remember you stealing it from your room and hiding it when she had come asking if you’d seen it.

She laughed, apparently recalling the same thing, “I knew you had it back then,” which came as a surprise to you. She bit back a smile as she began folding it again, “nonna told me to let you keep it.”

Your eyes widened slightly, “did she?”

“Yep,” your sister popped the ‘p’.

“Hmm,” you hummed.

“What?” She asked, setting the blanket aside.

“She’s become batty.”

Your sister’s eyebrows rose, “how do you mean?”

“She’s been nothing but brutal to me,” you frowned, crossing your arms.

Your sister’s eye crinkled like she was about to laugh, “wow,” she said instead, “you’ve been gone so long you must have forgotten.”

“Forgotten what?” You scoffed.

“That’s how she’s always been,” your sister shook her head, mumbling your name and something else incoherent before turning to look back up at you, “I hope you visit again, that this isn’t some one off thing.”

You pulled away, your walls instantly going back up and your sister sighed, clearly noting the mask of an expression. “You always did that when you were a kid, you know.”

“Did what?” You furrowed your brows.

“Fold into yourself,” she waved her hands, “I don’t know how else to explain it.” She huffed, “you know, we really miss you, everyone. My kids,” she started, tears thrreatening to break loose, “you nieces and nephews–they don’t even know you.”

You looked down and for a second you weren’t sure what she was talking about, but then you remembered that yes–you were a zia*, your sister had children, three of them, and you hadn’t met them once.

Guilt wrapped itself around you like a veil, “I’m sorry,” you heard yourself saying, your face contorting as if you wanted to cry, wanted to express how remorseful you felt, but didn’t know how to.

“You’re just like her,” she threw her head back as a few tears ran down her cheek, “I think that’s why you were closer to Nonno*. You and Nonna* are too alike, you’re both so damn stubborn.” She huffed a laugh and for a moment, a sliver of a smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

“I think love my best friend,” you found yourself admitting, maybe it was your way of trying to reach out, to tell your sister you were still you.

“That guy that was just here?” She grinned at you, “yeah, the family has been talking about it, Nonna* said to expect a wedding within the next year.”

Your face fell, embarrassment taking over, “what? Why? That old bat!” You scoffed, standing, “I can’t believe her, I’ve only been here–what? Two days? If that? That crazy old woman,” you marched toward the door, “Well?” You called to your sister, “are you going to back me up or what?”

She stared at you for a moment and then slowly, but surely, an calm smile crept onto her face, but her eyes were ones of storybook villains,“yeah, sure.”

The day started gloomy, though when you met Spencer in the hall, it became just a little less than that. You weren’t feeling like yourself, though you weren’t actually sure what self you were referring to. 

JJ had messaged the group chat that she’d be late because Henry had an accident right before they set off to leave. You thought about messaging your sister, but it felt weird, you weren’t used to initiating conversation with your family, so you didn’t, although you did plan to speak before the funeral.

You wore simple black attire, as did everyone else and you caught yourself holding onto Spencer’s hand tighter than usual, almost as if he’d leave you too, and you couldn’t have that. Your heart studded in your chest once you saw the coffin, it was closed, of course. It had been open for the hearing, but that had occured before you’d landed.

You couldn’t move forward. You told the others to go on and after making sure you were okay, they did, “but you’re not allowed to go,” you’d whispered, almost to yourself.

Spencer had squeezed your hand, whispering back, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Your family gathered around the casket and the sacerdote* stepped forward, reading off a few of the retellings your grandmother had no doubt written down with the help of your parents. You noted a few other, non-related spectators, probably friends.

A few of his favorite songs were played and then your mother said a few words, followed by your grandmother, and finally your sister. “Are you okay?” Spencer pulled you closer by your arm.

You pressed your lips together, watching the coffin being lowered into the grave. “I don’t know…” and when you swallowed, you found your throat dry and for the first time since the letter, you not only found yourself wanting to cry, you found it was almost within reach.

The ceremony ended and relatives began dropping dirt into the grave, you thought to say one last prayer before leaving, but you didn’t want anyone to see you. You turned to Spencer and let go of his hand, “I just…” you turned away, pressing your lips together as you eyed the fresh grave.

He smiled sadly, but he nodded; he always seemed to be able to understand you no matter how silent or how loud you were. Maybe that’s why you loved him, you couldn’t be sure. There were so many things you loved about him–gosh you loved him. The revelation was like a wish from a birthday candle being answered.

You stepped away and Spencer watched as you pushed through the crowd. Hotch and the others surrounded him, questioning stares ever-present. “We should give her some time,” he said after seeing you hesitate, then sit near the makeshift headstone.

“What’s she doing?” Penelope frowned, watching you shift in your spot on the wet grass.

“Saying goodbye,” Spencer was the only one to respond–he was also the last one to retreat.

You didn’t know how to begin, you hadn’t spoken to him in eight years. You were scared that he was angry at you, but then again, you knew that couldn’t be the case, yes you knew he was gone, but what if his spirit was still here? What if he couldn’t move on because he had unfinished business and it was your fault?

You stopped yourself, since when did you believe in superstition? That was your parents…and Rossi; not you.

You sighed, running your hand through the grass, deciding to start as if he were still there, trying not to sound too guilty.

Nonno, you began, I–I’m sorry, you shook your head, I know, I know I should have visited. I know– a single tear fell down your cheek and you paused to wipe it away, shocked by your own emotions. “Forgive me,” you whispered.

“You sound like a crazy person,” you jerked your head to the side, eyes landing on your grandmother.

You huffed, eyes narrowing as you sniffled and wiped another tear that had fallen. “You’re one to talk.”

Your grandmother shifted, as if uncomfortable, and then she moved forward, more brittle than you had noticed the first time. “I’m not going to sit down,” she said after a moment, “don’t let my looks full you, I’m not how I once was.” She grunted as she stood beside you.

“Yeah, well, your looks aren’t fooling anyone, so.”

“Ouch,” she laughed, but it sounded like a wenches cackle. “Oh nipotina*,” she clicked her tongue and shook her head, a complacent smile making its way onto her wrinkled face.

You sat in silence, comfortable or not, you were glad she had stopped talking, you didn’t know what to say to her. In your opinion, you had never really gotten along with your grandmother, this wasn’t reconnecting with your parents or sisters or even your zia* and zio*, this was…new territory altogether.

You frowned, “listen, child,” and you did, you perked up, you could listen to her talk, that would be easy, you just hoped she didn't expect a response. “Your grandfather loved you, he never stopped talking about you.” You smiled, but then it faltered. You had abandoned him, hadn’t even deigned to visit because of how guilty you’d felt…

“He knew,” you whispered, heart racing. 

You heard your grandmother sigh. “I thought as much,” she frowned, staring at her husband's grave as if she could bring him back by will alone. 

“You did?” You hadn’t left without saying goodbye, not to him at least, that was one thing everyone had gotten wrong, your grandmother knowing had never occurred to you because you were sure your grandfather kept it a secret. Why else would the entire family have blown up when they’d realized you had left? When they’d realized it was too late to stop or convince you otherwise–because by the time everyone else had found out, you were halfway across the North Atlantic already.

“I always thought it was strange how he never said anything about it.” A grim smile tugged her at her red-painted lips.

“Nonna*, did I make the right decision?” You asked, surprising even yourself.

She sighed and you thought she might say ‘I can’t tell you if it was right or wrong’ or something a normal grandmother would say, but your grandmother wasn’t normal, she was an old bat, probably the same one you’d turn into at her age and she said, “You’re damned right you were wrong.”

Your mouth dropped, taken aback, and then you burst into laughter, throwing your head back as you tried wiping your tears, “oh you’re such an old bat,” you sighed.

“I knew you always called me that behind my back,” she harumphed, jerking her head away and crossing her arms like a child.

“Oh come now, Nonna*,” you stood and reached out the touch her shoulder.

She huffed and dropped her arms, eyes darting around your face in what seemed to be concern. “You were wrong for not telling the rest of us, you had your parents worried sick, and your sister too.” Her frown deepened, “even me.”

You nodded, “I know, but nonna*,” you sighed, wanting to explain yourself, but she held up a hand. You raised a brow, almost saying huh, so that’s where I get it from, out loud.

“Your grandfather always said you were meant for something greater, that your heart wouldn’t allow you to stay in this town the way ours allowed the rest of us.

“No, no nipotina*, you were not wrong for leaving. This town, this family? Yes, you come from here, but there,” she nodded her head toward your co-workers, (or friends, you were honestly still deciding), “with them, that is where you belong now.”

You smiled, finding acceptance in her answer.

“And your friend,” she rolled her eyes when she said it, “well, I expect the wedding to be here.”

You huffed a laugh before turning, catching Specner’s eye, and when he waved your heart swelled. “We’ll see,” you started walking away.

Your grandmother trailed after you, throwing her hands up and shouting, “incovalato*! You insolent child!”

a/n: ahhh i can't wait to write my next fic because i already know waht it is. i don't want to give spoilers, but just know you're going to see dad!spencer !!

@darkmatilda @theylovemelody

[impsandstars]

What’s in a name?

I have compiled a screenshot of all of Blitz’s name credits at the end of every episode he’s in.

There is a change at the end of season 1 episode 8 (Queen Bee) where we get a single line through the O in his name. In this episode we get Blitz dealing with the aftermath of seeing Fizzarolli for the first time in 15 years.

Seeing Fizz after that many years has probably brought up quite a bit of emotional pain (his response upon seeing him at Ozzie's was to hide behind his menu and say "not him") for Blitz who we know cares very deeply for Fizz. At no point during Fizz's public humiliation of him during the episode Ozzie's does Blitz react or say anything in retaliation. He doesn't fight back. He still cares what Fizz thinks about him and having his once best friend treat him like that must have been quite a punch to the heart. Blitz accepts it all as it reinforces his own narrative that he is not deserving of the love of the people whose lives he ruined. All the emotional turmoil comes to a head at the end of episode 8 when he remarks how Fizz was right and he is going to die alone, coming to the conclusion that he and Fizz will never reconcile their relationship because Blitz believes he cannot be forgiven; that the damage he caused was unforgivable.

The second change is at the end of season 2 episode 5 (Unhappy Campers) where we get a second line through the O in his name. In this episode we get to see Blitz interact with his sister Barbie for the first time in presumably a while.

The relationship between Blitz and Barbie pre-fire is not really shown a lot in cannon (yet?). We know they did some sort of solo show together so presumably they were close siblings. Blitz cares enough about her to look in on her at rehab so we know, at least from his point of view, that Barbie is still an important person in his life. In this episode we get to see that relationship from Barbie's perspective. She clearly feels a lot of animosity toward Blitz ("haven't you ruined my life enough?"). She didn't let him know she had left rehab or that she had gotten a job and is apparently doing okay for herself. Blitz is no longer a part of her life. Blitz's reaction to seeing her in this episode is so sincere and very vulnerable for him. The desperation in his voice when he tried to get her to meet up with him to talk and she threw it back in his face? Ouch. Her comments about him ruining her life and her wanting him to stop trying? Double ouch. Much like with Fizz, Blitz is left with the understanding that forgiveness from her is something that he will never get as the damage has been done

The name Blitzo is a representation of his past (notice how the only people he doesn't correct about how to say his name are Barbie and Fizz). It is from a time when he had the love and connection of those in his family. After these two episodes it's almost as if that was the final reminder to Blitz that he longer has either of them. That that version of himself is gone.

By crossing out the O to change his name to just "Blitz" in the credits it's as if to say he has closed that chapter from his past. It shows that he feels, after these interactions, that it is no longer possible to be that person from his past, to be the person that was loved and cared for by Fizz and Barbie. He is no longer worthy of having that name and everything good that is associated with it because it's his fault he lost them.

Although, with the change of his name, it could potentially be a fresh start. A chance for him to build a new version of himself. A person worthy of the two most important people in his life and by extension the other people in his life he cares about too. ("I don't want to be this way, not forever").

[tealvenetianmask]

Some thoughts on Blitz having combined type ADHD and why it matters to me . . .

First, I'm not negating other neurodivergences that he might have or other roots of his issues. I do think he also has dyslexia, and I also think his father didn't bother to get him much of an education. And yes, a lot of the traits I'm about to write about overlap too with ASD and various trauma responses. Comorbidity is real, and we're talking about fiction and only have so much to go on. Your interpretations/ways of diagnosing him are valid even if they don't match mine. Cool? Okay, let's go.

Inattentive symptoms. Blitz's plans come off as disorganized/chaotic, he doesn't do paperwork, doesn't know what insurance is, and visibly zones out during some conversations. He also hyperfocuses when something strikes an emotional cord, i.e. following M&M and looking for his sister, and can't focus on anything else. Random tangents and doodles seem to be a regular part of his workday. He can do fucking somersaults in midair but falls on his cute little face when he's not paying attention to where he's walking.

Hyperactive symptoms. He's bursting with energy and almost always seems ready to get up and go. He's randomly climbing things/sitting weird in chairs all the time, even as an adult. I thought this was an imp trait. Other imps don't do this. It's a Blitz trait. He speaks without thinking a lot and seems to process things out loud.

Strengths. He's calm and strategic in a crisis. He's creative and excited about his own ideas. He's at home in chaos and makes chaos WORK for him. He improvises. He's always wanted to be the boss of his own company and do things his own way. I love him so much. I love that being different/original/chaotic is portrayed so positively.

RSD (Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria). Without going into Blitz's everything, the gist is that behind the front that he doesn't care, Blitz is super sensitive to being rejected and spends a lot of time scared that rejection is going to happen. Look at him at the end of Ozzie's. Listen. This can be caused by A LOT of things, but it's super common with ADHD too, mostly because we have a ton of experience with being rejected and trouble predicting when it's going to happen. Among everything that's happened to him, Blitz had lots of "not good enough" moments as a kid.

There's a lot more. I was going to do screenshots but got overwhelmed by how many episodes I'd have to sift through.

Why I care:

I'm feeling well represented of course. So often, the person with ADHD in a piece of media is a kid, or if they're an adult, they're the primarily inattentive type. I'm still hyperactive in adulthood, and when I'm not masking enough, my behavior gets misunderstood a lot (some of this also comes from being a woman, but since I'm talking about a male character here . . . another time). It's fun and affirming to see a character in fiction who's not masking his ADHD much (because he really isn't good at that lol) and has a ton of issues but kind of rocks at being himself anyway.

[warblogs17282]

My overall thoughts on Apology Tour (It's actually an 10/10 episode) and an in depth analysis of the episode.

The scene at the start was so fucking good, starts to place the seeds of doubt with Blitz, he almosts gets the point at the start multiple times before backtracking on that instantly, glad the harvest moon festival assassination attempt was brought up, I cannot wait for that to be mentioned again.

And then we get to the apology list, Blitz being in incredible denial about WHY people hate him and think a simple sorry will fix everything, this gets brought up later as well with Stolas fucking chatting shit to Blitz for it, which Blitz needed to hear so badly.

Then we get to Stolas pre song, he really doesn't want to shittalk Blitz, proof that Stolas still cares for Blitz, showing us that Stolitz still has a really strong chance of healing and coming back together with the power of healthy communication.

And then we get to the song, holy fucking shit it is top tier, it's a banger and talks about all the problems they have, how Stolas doesn't want to hurt Blitz, how he's hurt Stolas, with lines like 'I don't think you meant to hurt me' and a massive self reflection on Stolas' part as well. Making it damn well clear to Stolas what he wants, needs and the problems in their relationships, making communication about it later so much easier, POP THE FUCK OFF MY PRINCE. 'I don't think it meant anything at all'. This just shows one key flaw with Stolitz, based on Blitz's reaction in the full moon episode, Stolas now thinks that Blitz entirely never cared for him, something that Blitz HAS to address, eventually they'll get to that point but for now, Stolas is just singing his heart and true emotions out, playing all of his cards on the table for Blitz to see.

Then we get to this part, drunk Stolas and Blitz talking, Blitz actually talks about things properly to Stolas for once, and Stolas calls Blitz out on his bullshit constantly, which I love, because it will force Blitz to go over everything he's mentioned, allowing for actual healthy communication in the future between those two WHICH I FUCKING LOVE SO MUCH. Blitz gets a few issues off his chest during the whole part as well, which, while we're not fully there yet, will also cause Stolas to reflect on a lot of shit as well. FORCING BLITZ TO REALISE WHY SO MANY PEOPLE HATE HIM, AS STOLAS POINTS OUT WITH THE EXISTANCE OF THE PARTY. BOTH OF THEM ARE GOING THROUGH SO MANY EMOTIONS RIGHT NOW AND I LIVE AND DIE FOR IT.

This face, this fucking face. It's finally snaps for Blitz about how he's fucked up so much, what he has to do better all that shit, BLITZ WILL HAVE A MAJOR SELF REFLECTION EPISODE, AND THIS FACE PROVES IT, HE KNOWS WHAT STOLAS WANTS, AND HE'S DAMN WELL GOING TO LET STOLAS HAVE IT.

The way Blitz just, let's him have this dance and eventual fuck with this guy, it proves he's learning, he's not being defensive, he's just letting it play on regardless of how hurt he is, as stated later, it starts with just letting Stolas have this moment, to truly feel happy again, which shows he's putting Stolas' feelings first, and being a good person, which will help him communicate better to Stolas in the future, BECAUSE BLITZ IS LEARNING.

Blitz starts with denial, his trademark defense tactic, trying to shift the blame off himself and onto everyone else, and Verosika putting Blitz in his fucking place, he needs to hear about how he hurt her, about WHY the party exists in the first place, without him realising both of those things Blitz cannot heal, which is what Verosika is trying to get him to realise, how he can hurt people, which with how Blitz slowly gets down and changes his emotions as you can see on his face, Blitz fucking gets it, he's starting to learn to be a better person, to be able to be loved back, to be the person Stolas deserves, to be better for himself.

'I don't want to be this way, not forever.' With the context, this line hits so fucking hard, like a truck. Blitz is actually learning from his mistakes, with her, and Stolas being the two major points, Blitz is going to start an arc to face everything that's haunting him, to get over his problems, face them all, to be the better man for the person Blitz truly loves, Stolas. Everything has undeniably been realised for Blitz, and there's no going back for him, he will learn from his mistakes, and Stolitz can finally be back better, once that healing and mutual communication has been completed.

Stolas looks genuinely happy, like he's found someone, someone to help him through his troubles, to be someone Stolas needs in his life during this point in time. And you know what Blitz does? While he's still clearly hurt and disgusted, he lets Stolas have this moment, to be happy, proving on some level that he does deeply care for Stolas, sure Blitz does that really angry for a moment, but Verosika levels Blitz out with this line 'It just starts with saying, good for him, hope he gets laid.' He quickly simmers down the anger from that encounter, on better talking terms with Verosika, realising what he has to do now (just letting Stolas have this moment) and what to do in the future.

Sure Blitz is mostly angry and upset at the moment, but this starts an arc with Blitz, one of learning and understanding things that he needs to fix to ever be back with Stolas, he cannot deny anything any more for long, Blitz has flown right into the emotional core of everything and he will reflect on it, learn from it. To not be how he was, not forever. To be better for himself, to be better for his lover, Stolas. It's clear that Stolas still has feelings for Blitz, as the song and drunken talk they had shows. Stolitz will come back, not soon. But they will be. We've entered the arc where both Blitz and Stolas heal themselves, eventually being back on actual healthy communicating terms. Both of them don't want to be the ways they were. Not forever.

tldr, I've gone in depth about the episode, why I think it's amazing writing, and where Stolitz goes in the future. THEY WILL BE HAPPY EVENTUALLY. This is easily my new favourite episode, the best of the best, and I only pray that Vivzie can keep this train of amazing storytelling going.

[milliesaxe]

blitz saying he does NOT want to fuck after ozzie’s might be my favorite blitz moment in the whole show because this is a man whose relationship with sex is… kind of a mess.

he uses it as currency a lot, which could, in theory, be fine, except he’s been shown to be terrible at casual and transactional sex? some of his greatest hits feature him self-destructing at bee’s party, fucking chaz as an emotional replacement for heartfelt communication and closeness to m&m (and he looks frankly terrible and disconnected right after), or agreeing to sleep with stolas for access to the grimoire. and we all know blitz and stolas are idiots who become emotionally compromised by each other almost immediately after a single night of sex.

the most successful of these ventures (trying to get the bouncer at ozzie’s to let him in or playing along with striker’s seduction in the harvest moon festival) never actually move past flirting and into sex.

blitz thinks of sex as a ‘safe’ thing in comparison to emotional vulnerability. it’s something he’s good at the way he’s good at shooting guns. because of this, he turns every single non-familial relationship in his life towards sex. he can hug fizz after they make up but right on the heels of that he’s breaking the moment with ‘can we make out right now?’ it takes a drug induced nightmare trip before he can talk to moxxie about how much he appreciates him… wouldn’t it be so much easier to just be a voyeur of m&m’s sex life?

isn’t that closeness if he pretends hard enough, the kind of closeness that comes without all the awfulness being vulnerable with another person could potentially bring?

reaching his breaking point—which he wouldn’t have without the ghosts of relationships’ past (fizz, verosika) coming out of the woodwork to slam him and this being witnessed by stolas (current non-relationship relationship)—is him being unable to hold the defensive shell he carries around himself one iota longer. Dropping it means being able to look someone he cares about in the eye and saying ‘sex is not enough on its own for me. sex, in this way, might actually be damaging for me.’

not necessarily pertinent to the point of this post, but: the someone he tells this to listens. there is a positive outcome for blitz when he does engage in the act of emotional vulnerability that he’s been so successful in avoiding with, well, sex. it’s also very clear that stolas understands him better after he opens up this way.

[demon-country]

"Stolas shouldn't have portalled out Blitz during Full Moon" this and "Stolas should have stuck around and listened to Blitz in the garden during Apology Tour" that. Do y'all not realize how it sounds to demand that a domestic abuse victim stick around when someone is yelling at and insulting them? And on the flip side of that, do the other half of y'all not realize how it sounds to demand that someone, particularly someone from an oppressed group, never get loud or demonstrably angry just because it might scare someone?

Like Blitz had every right to air his grievances in Full Moon, and being angry when you're treated poorly is a perfectly normal, reasonable response. It's not inherently abusive to yell and stomp when you get mad, and it's completely unreasonable to say that Blitz is just because he did. But at the same time, Stolas does not have to sit there and take being yelled at when he's already had to suffer though someone doing it to him maliciously for at least 17 years. He does not have to take being grabbed, being screamed at, or having his clearly stated boundaries ignored either, like at the beginning of Apology Tour. Him getting upset when someone does that to him, when he's only just gotten away from his abuser and was almost murdered for it, is not some failing on his part or him playing the victim.

Blitz's trauma doesn't care that Stolas wasn't actually going to abandon Blitz, and it doesn't care that that the hurtful things Stolas has said and done have come largely from a place of ignorance rather than a lack of care. He's protecting himself the only way he knows how and is blinded by the sheer intensity and longevity of his self-loathing, but frankly it was a good thing for him to finally speak up about how some of the things Stolas does makes him feel, and it's a very good thing that he's actually trying to fight to keep Stolas rather than just booking it and throwing a grenade behind him on the way out.

Just like Stolas' trauma doesn't care if he knows Blitz is different than Stella and wouldn't actually hurt him, and it doesn't care that Blitz's anger comes from a hurt, scared, and traumatized place as opposed to the pleasure Stella took in hurting and scaring him. Stolas hasn't had any time to even begin to heal from the damage she did to him, and frankly if he's scared and breaking down like in Full Moon it's actually a step up if he's removing himself from whoever is triggering him, even if it wasn't fair to Blitz who was, in his own way, attempting to work things out.

Neither of them is the bad guy here, they're just very reasonably upset and having clashing trauma responses. You can be compassionate and understanding of both sides without saying that either of them should have to just sit there and take it when someone is greatly upsetting them. It's normal to get angry when you're scared and upset, and it's normal to cry and run away when you're scared and upset, and neither are wrong or bad just because in the moment when emotions were running high they each did several things that accidently set the other off, especially when they had no way of knowing it was a trigger beforehand.

None of this is say that the way things shook out was great or productive, and they definitely need to work on healing so that they're not letting their fear and trauma control them. If they're going to get to place of real understanding, then at some point these two need to sit down with the intent to talk things out and have an honest and open conversation with each other, without Blitz yelling or Stolas running or either of them letting their preconceived assumptions and biases get in the way of actually listening. Blitz needs to not self-sabotage and Stolas needs to not shut down, and that's going to be really fucking hard for both of them, because that's how they've been coping with their trauma for literal decades.

And to his major credit, Blitz got it right at the end of Apology Tour, the only thing he got wrong was the timing because Stolas was so drunk that I'll be honestly surprised if he remembers most of it in the morning. He wasn't in any state of mind to listen or pay attention, but at the same time, to his credit he's already been reflecting on what Blitz has been saying to him and trying to figure out where and how he fucked up and hurt Blitz. And also, he kept saying things like "right now", which means he will be ready to talk things out eventually if he's just given a little bit of space to put himself back together and think about things.

And guys, please. Just because some people will start crying to try to manipulate and guilt trip those around them whenever someone gets upset at something they did, doesn't make that what Stolas did. He was trying to get away so Blitz wouldn't see him cry. And just because some people like to fly off the handle and rage at every perceived infraction, doesn't make that what Blitz did. He had justifiable cause to be angry and in Full Moon he didn't think Stolas was listening, so he tried to make himself louder and bigger in an attempt to make himself be heard and his hurt be acknowledged. If one of their reactions made you uncomfortable, that's fine, there's nothing wrong with that. But the story isn't about those kinds of people, it's about two fictional demons who aren't trying to hurt or manipulate each other, they're just struggling to juggle trauma, ignorance, and the desire to be together. They're not able to yet, but that's what character arcs are for.

And just to head off any comments on it: no, the narrative is not villifying Blitz and it's not babying Stolas or trying to sweep any of the shit he's done under the rug. Blitz being angry and self-destructive doesn't make him a villain, and Stolas crying a few times and still being pretty ignorant of how he's come across doesn't mean they're trying to say he's done nothing wrong.

[blitzwhore]

My Helluva Boss fics 2024

An almost-complete list of the HB (mostly Stolitz) fics I've written in 2024! ✨

General Audiences/Teen and Up:

📖 Saving Us (15k, Stolitz). Written pre-Mastermind. After not seeing the owl since Verosika's party, Blitzø jumps in to protect Stolas from Andrealphus, and in doing so gets badly wounded. When he wakes up in a hospital bed some days afterwards, he and Stolas finally talk.

📖 Caramel Kiss (1.2k, Stolitz). Humor, fluff. Blitz criticizes Stolas' ice cream order and Stolas decides to be a tease about it. Chaos ensues.

📖 Left Behind (3.3k, Blitzo & Tilla). Blitzo wants to confess to Fizz, but is terrified of messing up. Terrified enough to ask his mother for help, even if it means coming out to her. In the end, the confession doesn't go as planned. The rest... well. Sadly, the rest is history.

📖 At His Mercy (1.6k, Blitzø & Cash). Of what happens when Blitzø and his crew run into Cash in the street.

📖 Mama's Remedy (1.1k, Stolitz). During their day together as kids, Blitzo finds out Stolas has never climbed the giant tree in his garden and decides that needs to be fixed.

📖 Please, Stay (1k, Stolitz). Pre-Ozzie's. After a BDSM scene during a full moon, Stolas discovers that Blitz's knuckles are wounded from a fight.

📖 Make It Easy on You (831 words, Stolitz). Pre-Full Moon. Stolas wakes up in the middle of the night and finds Blitz curled up around him, sound asleep and completely at peace. The realisation that this is the only way he will ever have what he truly wants is more than he can bear.

📖 You Love Him (Not) (800 words, Stolitz). Pre-Full Moon. A peek into what goes on in Blitzø's mind when he looks at his selfie in bed with Stolas.

📖 If Only (689 words, Stolitz). Pre-Full Moon. Each crying alone in their house, both Stolas and Blitzø imagine the other is there to comfort them.

📖 I Could Never Be Better Off Without You (757 words, Stolitz). Post-Mastermind. Blitzø reassures a guilt-ridden Stolas that he's wanted, even when he has nothing left to give.

Mature:

📚 This Warmth (1k, Stolitz). Pre-Ozzie's. When he wakes up in Stolas' arms after a typical full moon encounter, Blitzø experiences some complicated emotions and wants he has no idea how to navigate.

📚 Relapse (2.8k, Blitzø & Barbie). When they arrive at work, Blitzø and his crew find a wasted Barbie Wire lying on their meeting room floor. Blitzø will do whatever it takes to make sure his sister is safe.

🔥 You're Perfect (And Everything In Between) (19k, Stolitz; WIP, will be explicit). Tattoo artist!AU with trans Blitz, who is very, very gay for the cute, easily flustered, tall-as-hell man that walks into his tattoo shop.

🔥 Pipin' Hot (429 words, Marthaberry). How many times do you have to kill the bitch who fucked your husband before she gets bored and starts flirting with you instead?

Explicit:

🔞 Wear Your Pride (7.9k, Stolitz). After the Imp City Pride Parade, Blitzø and Stolas fuck in the back of the van. Ft. lots of teasing and birdpuss-eating.

🔞 Delectable (3.9k, Stolitz). Blitzø spills some mustard on his bare thighs. Stolas doesn't miss the opportunity to lick him thoroughly clean.

🔞 Just Like This (3.9k, Stolitz). Sub!Blitzø, soft dom!Stolas; puppy play. A leashed Blitzø rides Stolas' leg.

🔞 Good Pup (3.7k, Blitz/Fizz/Ozzie). Sub!Blitzø, dom!Fizz and Ozzie. Blitzø is determined to take all of Ozzie's cock in his ass at the same size as Fizz usually does. Fizz and Ozzie take very good care of him.

After being in the fandom for a few years, it's been a blast actually creating fanworks for it. I look forward to writing so much more in 2025! ❤️

[awkwardandeccentric]

Listen, I don’t blame either of these losers for how the situationship ended. They’re both morons who need a lot of therapy before they can be anything even remotely healthy.

What concerns me is the amount of people that are saying Stolas should have sat there and tried to reason with Blitz while he was screaming abusive things.

If you’re emotional, if you feel overwhelmed, if the person who hurt you won’t stop poking and prodding at your sore spots because they want a reaction, you have every right to remove yourself. If you just need to cool down before you say or do something you’ll regret, you have every right to remove yourself. If you don’t want to cry in front of anyone, you have every right to remove yourself.

Whether we like it or not, Blitz escalated to verbally abusive behavior in this scene. I’d hope that if we can accept the power dynamic makes their sexual relationship a grey area ethically at best, then I hope we can also acknowledge that chasing someone around their home when they’re clearly distressed while screaming at the top of your lungs and calling them names is abusive behavior.

The reason I point this out is not because I’m calling Blitzø an abuser. Abusers have a chronic pattern of this kind of behavior, while Blitz has only done it once. But think for a moment about how terrifying this must have been for Stolas. The words Striker used while torturing him; the screaming Stella did on what was most likely almost a daily basis, not to mention his parents’ neglect and his self-loathing, all that was probably banging around in his head while Blitzø was screaming at him.

And don’t give me that “Stolas is more powerful” bullshit. There are plenty of victims that can easily overpower their abusers but don’t in the moment.

My point is, for those of us who survived chronic abuse, hearing over and over again that Stolas should have hung out and reasoned with Blitz while Blitz was mocking him or screaming at him is…concerning.

Reader, I’m talking to you. You have every right- every single fucking right- to leave any situation that does not make you feel safe. Physically, mentally, spiritually, sexually- if you feel unsafe, you can leave. You don’t need to explain yourself. You can go any time for any reason. Ever.

[chaifootsteps]

so chai I'm definitely not gonna watch that new ep sinsmas but can you summarise what happens in that ep? also pls only show octavia clips so I could cheer her on

1. Stolas mopes and whines and tries to call Via, but Stella won't let Via pick up. All the while, Blitzo is the most loving, supportive boyfriend known to man, giving Stolas a job and cheerleading even as Stolas imposes on him and cries about how he isn't rich anymore. Eventually, Blitz gives his freeloading ass a job manning the phones.

2. Strawman homophobic bitch wife hires I.M.P. to kill her husband who left her for another guy but when they get there they don't go through with it because the gay guys are sweet and warmly lit and happy with their kids, and Blitz pictures himself and Stolas and Via and Loona because only women deserve to die for cheating.

3. Via sings a song about how Stolas abandoned her even though he's been trying to call all month I guess.

4. Stolas has a meltdown and trashes I.M.P's office, says he was an idiot to trade his life for all this, runs off to see Via.

5. Andre meets him at the palace, taunts him, Stolas beats the shit out of him and Andre retaliates and almost kills him until I.M.P. shows up.

6. "Get your hands off my bottom, bitch!"

7. Big anime fight sequence ensues, Andre makes the hydra from Hercules a dragon out of ice, Loona attacks using her feral wolf form that's never, ever been alluded to and I'm assuming only exists to curry favor with the fortune cookie crowd.

8. "The prince's knight needs his sword!" I'm tired, boss.

9. Millie's irritable and throwing up, gee, I wonder why.

10. Blitz saves Stolas, they kiss, never mind all the sexual coercion and abuse.

11. Via swoops in, shoos Saturday morning cartoon villain Andre away, then goes no contact with Stolas like we saw in the leaks.

12. Scene ends on Stolas crying his eyes out in the snow. Great emotional cliffhanger to end the season on, right?

13. NOPE! Christmas party at Blitz's apartment!

14. Millie's pregnant.

15. Stolas goes out to the balcony to smoke, Blitz creeps after him like the kicked dog he's become and shyly asks to bum a cigarette, Stolas is a bitch some more. "When have you ever asked?"

16. Stolas says that they're even stevens because Blitz saved him from the dragon, acknowledges that all of this was his choice at least, Blitz talks about Barbie Wire the Tool who was edited out from her mother's death scene and how much he misses her.

17. They have a romantic dance on the balcony, stop talking about the book deal or all the times Stolas made Blitz feel like shit, says Viv somewhere in the world as she stamps her foot.

18. Blitz hugs Stolas, Stolas looks apathetic about it. End of season.

[effy-writes]

can you maybe write something for Fizz where they were friends and when blitz ran away, she stayed and tried to help get him out of the fire, and in doing so, she lost her right arm. and now she is his partner in his clown gigs, and they both get captured and taken for ransom, and then they think that they're going to die so they both confess, but turns out that they get saved, and are together?

tysm :)

ofc!! i already did do a request very similar to that so i’m gonna do hc’s for this, either way hope you enjoy!

also i have insane writers block rn so bare with me 😔

~~~~

fizz x f! reader: being held ransom together and confessing feelings hc’s

• fizz and you bonded over the same trauma that you guys endured. both got injured and you two had to start a whole new life without limbs (with you just your arm)

• fizz would always apologize that you lost an arm, but you always tell him to stop apologizing and that you wanted to help because you didn’t want to lose him. he was helpless and needed to get out of there, but when you pulled him out your arm got engulfed by the flames that was on the curtain just next to his body, you would always reply, “i would rather lose an arm than you lose you”

• years later, ozzie given you and fizz new “limbs” as well as a job. at first you were very reluctant to perform again and it took a lot of convincing from fizz to encourage you to perform.

“it’ll be like old times!”

“exactly. i don’t want to get reminded of the past. i don’t even think i could perform again without getting all emotional.”

“i miss performing with you, y/n. let’s just do this one time and if you don’t like it then i won’t force you. but i know you love dancing, singing, acrobatics, and when you did them in the past you looked so happy. i miss that smile.”

• eventually you gave in and started rehearsing with fizz and found great enjoyment in it. ever since then you two been performing together.

• you already know that fizz got held ransom before with blitz, and that was a wholeeee other thing you had to deal with. you don’t know which day was more traumatizing, you and fizz almost dying or fizz almost dying and you couldn’t do anything about it

• whenever you two got kidnapped by a critic and got locked in a basement things definitely changed. he was freaking out as much as you were but he didn’t want to seem weak in front of you, so he put on an act and tried to comfort you as much as possible.

• since both of your arms and legs got tied up he had to wiggle himself over to you and used his head to rub it against your shoulder, “we’re going to be okay, alright? ozzie will eventually figure out by now that we’re in trouble because we’re supposed to perform in like…20 minutes?”

“that’s not helping me out fizz!”

“ah shit! okay okay um..we’re in this together?”

“fizz, i love you but you’re not making this any better.”

• unfortunately, fizz wasn’t right and you guys been stuck down here for hours. the critic hasn’t came down, so you two began wondering if he forgot about you guys. “do you think we can eat the robotic limbs? like will we die?”

“y/n…what?”

“i mean..yeah i kinda just answered my own question.”

• after some hours of you guys crying, laughing, freaking out, joking around with each other, the critic finally went downstairs to the basement. out of fear you and fizz huddled close to each other.

• the critic spoke about how much he hates you and fizz for ignoring him on social media and in public. at first he wanted to be friends with you guys and just keep you guys down here, but after hearing you guys cry, talk, and laugh, he became so envious of your guys relationship that he wanted both of you gone.

• you didn’t want to die like this, not die without confessing your feelings, and fizz felt the EXACT same way. at the same time you guys said, “i always had feelings for you and was just too afraid to admit it.” “wait WHAT”

• before the critic could say anything a loud gunshot pierced your ears, and once you two looked back up you saw no other than blitz.

“BLITZO?”

“heyyy guys…totally WASNT spying on you two.”

“then why the fuck are you here?” you spat.

“apparently saving your guy’s lives. took you long enough fizz to admit you have feelings for her!”

• basically, right after blitz saved you guys you and fizz had a long and awkward conversation about how you two had feelings for each other for the longest time and both of you had the same reasons as to why you didn’t want to tell the other person, you guys just didn’t want to ruin what you already have

• the day after, fizz wanted to properly confess his feelings at a nice dinner and that’s exactly what he did, and you obviously agreed to be his girlfriend

[crooked-wasteland]

Oops: Rushing to Catharsis, Dodging Accountability

There is much to be said about the latest episode of Helluva Boss, and it is a bit of a tragedy that the animatic release felt like a more complete version of the episode than the actual finished product. From losing out on the visual intensity of Fizzarolli's injuries to the complete erasure of Barbie in the background of the disaster, it feels like these small changes removed the visceral intensity of the scene and its repercussions. Especially as Barbie is now the obvious point of conflict in Blitz's storyline, it feels like the impact of that part of the story is now devalued by her absence.

But that is hardly the end of the issues at play.

Medrano and her team rushed this story arc.

There are clear parallels to Bojack's two major story beats of Bojack abandoning Herb and the Sugarman Summer Home season arc. It is obvious that Blitz and Fizzarolli have a relationship paralleling that of Herb and Bojack in season one. However, Medrano pulls back in a multitude of ways and fails to commit the plot to a natural conclusion. While Herb rejects Bojack due to the fact that the latter never came to check up on him following his public disgrace and outing, Blitz is absolved of even that.

In the Bojack episode, Herb makes it clear that he doesn't blame his old friend for not standing with him when he was removed from Horsing Around. While he may have been upset at one time, he had cooled off and recognized that if the studio had let them both go, that would have been terrible for both of them.

Rather, it was Bojack assuming Herb's desires and thus avoiding his best friend for years under the belief that he had betrayed Herb so completely that the other wouldn't want to see him anyway. Bojack's insecurity was his own undoing in that relationship, even though it showed that both Herb and Bojack were still very compatible friends. Bojack's background of conditional relationships from his own parents set the groundwork for his hyperavoidant personality and how allowing generational trauma to dictate your relationships in life is a good way to lose everyone you ever hope to keep.

Here, Blitz didn't abandon Fizzarolli. Skipping to the end, Blitz was kept from seeing Fizz in the hospital by a currently unknown third party. Which removes his flaws on a fundamental level. While one could argue ripping off the storyline wholesale would have been just as bad, at least it wouldn't feel like a fanfiction retelling of that Bojack episode. It feels like Medrano had a very negative opinion of Herb and how he rejected Bojack and that this reiteration with her own characters is her way of "fixing" that relationship. At the same time, what Blitz ended up doing is far and above worse than Bojack simply not risking his career.

The episode takes the sequence as dark as they'd dare, Fizzarolli crawling out of the explosion as his body burns and disintegrates. The show really does want to bank itself on the emotional impact this sequence should have, picturing how afraid Fizz must be. The amount of pain he would be in as his mangled body turns to ash as he forces himself from the fire. His flesh melted, his horns seared red and glowing like it would if they were made of real keratin, his bones themselves falling apart as he forced his body to escape the disaster. And he calls out to the one person he held such admiration for, his best friend since they were kids, who turns his back on him and runs.

And somehow, that is not the reason the relationship has become so bitter and vile. Not because Fizzarolli, most likely believing he was going to die, watched his best friend run away and "save himself" (from Fizz's perspective), leaving him to die alone in this calamity. It's because Blitz never came to talk to him. And even then, it wasn't Blitz's fault.

While that reveal worked for Bojack and Herb, it doesn't actually work for when a character almost actually loses their life. The figurative end of the world that comes with losing a job you love and a creative passion project stolen and bastardized can not begin to amount to the physical act of dying. That is actually the entire point of Herb's story as well, why Bojack's initial betrayal is forgivable, but his avoidance was not. It's because what felt like the end of life in the moment didn't actually end anything substantial for Herb. He still lived a full and complete life, minus his best friend who left him to rebuild on his own. And you can not, in fact, make up for lost time.

Speaking of comparisons, the dialogue of this sequence in particular feels quite off-putting. Blitz's line of "You have e no idea what I lost in that fire" is accusatory and draws up a direct comparison to what each character lost. Fizzarolli is physically scarred by the events as well as mentally and emotionally. Horns are shown to be a source of social pride for imps, adding self-esteem and identity to the list of things Fizz lost in the disaster. But because it is implied that Blitz's mother actually did die in the fire, that is a tragedy somehow beyond belief for someone like Fizzarolli. It would be safe to assume that Tilla's death would have been felt by everyone who survived the circus, or at the least for the kids. The dialogue sets up a divide that somehow Blitz watching how his careless moodiness almost killed his crush is not at the top of the list of traumas Blitz has to sort through from this sequence is hard to believe.

Speaking of crush.

And that gets to why this episode as a whole fails to work on a fundamental level. For what it is, what it wants to be, and what it is trying to set up, this episode consistently drops the ball. It is confounding to think that Medrano believed that the relationship for Stolas and Blitz was for more necessary to show than this.

This episode should have been a flashback.

The entire episode should have been the lead up to the disaster. Show us the relationship of Blitz and Barbie and Fizzarolli. Show us the way Blitz is treated by others at the circus even as he ages.

Show us Tilla for five minutes for the love of everything meaningful. It's so hard to believe this should be important to the characters or story when we are given nothing concrete about who Tilla was as a person or mother. We lived the flashbacks of Bojack, no matter how short a snippet they were. We experienced Beatrice's callous nature or his father's self-centered abuse. For as important as she is implied to be, Tilla is not so important as to be an active participant in the story.

At the end of all this, I believe that the greatest issues boil down to a set list

- Characters do not have any lasting responsibility to the situation, their actions or the outcome.

- Somehow a character like Tilla who has never been seen and lacks any personality outside of early Steven Universe Rose Quartz perfection is a loss that is elevated over the trauma we are allowed to very distantly experience in Fizzarolli's monologue.

- The fact that we still have no idea about who any of these characters were to appreciate the sense of loss that this episode was supposed to supply.

- Fizzarolli and Blitz make up completely by the end of a single episode.

- The lack of buildup to the disaster causes confusion as to why it ever happens. Blitz throwing the confession letter on the ground and walking away has no rhyme or reason to it.

This episode is a literal laundry list of bad choices and poor structuring. When a school teacher writes in the margin, "Show, don't tell," this is what they are talking about.

[error-dark]

I AM NOT OKAY!

(Spoilers for Helluva Boss: Mastermind!)

So much to talk about. So much happened. I'll do my best to summarize my thoughts.

First up, THE ANIMATION! The details! I love it all!! Next, the music! Stolas and Blitz had a duet! Love the song!

Finally, the plot itself. Holy shit. Holy hell. Satan, Ozzie, Queen Bee, all of them (expect Lucifer with his cute "BRB" note and ducky) were all there! Ozzie and Bee tried their best to stand by Blitz! EVEN FIZZ TEXTED OZZIE, WORRYING THE HELL ABOUT BLITZ!! STOLAS CAME TO SAVE HIS ASS ONLY TO BECOME PART OF THE LOWER CLASS!

Now the roles are technically reversed with Blitz having every imp loving him while Stolas is getting hated. And Blitz let Stolas stay with him and Loona! Loona even told Blitz "I love you, Dad"!! (maybe not exact words, but SHE SAID IT!!!) AND THE KISS ON THE CHEEK!!! AWWW BLITZ AND STOLAS ARE SO CUTE!!

Also, fuck Stella. Fuck her. Fuck Striker, too. Fuck Stella's brother. Fuck 'em all. Octavia was so scared of loosing her dad. Stella blocked the door, gave Octavia a fake worry/sadden look, letting her daughter to hug her, giving her what I'm assuming is fake comfort. Whether or not if Stella actually cares about Octavia (in which I still doubt, but I'm open minded), to me personally, this scene reminds me the exact same fake comfort Mother Gothel gave Rapunzel in Tangled after Rapunzel saw Eugene (from her pov) sailing away with the crown without her, leaving her. (of course, we, the viewer, knows that he was actually tied up to the boat against his own will). It pains me, as a viewer and huge fan of this show, watching Stella getting away with shit while Blitz gets the blame. It's worse to even know that Blitz and Stolas HAD AN ARRANGMENT. Even the I.M.P. knew about this! Yes, Blitz did tried to steal the Book at first, but that led to him and Stolas having an arrangement. The Full Moon.

I'm very excited to see the end of Season 2, and how the story continues in future season(s). This episode was the one I've been waiting for, and it was worth the wait!

Side note: I wanna add that I almost cried when Blitz almost died and when I thought Stolas was gonna die. This was definitely an emotional rollercoaster.

[hazbinshusk]

afterwards and fantasies w/ Blitz perchance, mayhaps?

afterwards — what kind(s) of aftercare do they like being given? do they like giving their partner aftercare? do they fall asleep quickly after sex?

blitz is cagey about aftercare; sometimes he gets worried that proper aftercare would open him up to emotions (oh no), so he can neglect it unfortunately.

(which is especially bad for him because I feel like blitz is the kind of guy to really suffer from post-coital dysphoria, which can further skew his view of himself in relationships).

not with the more heavy duty bdsm - he's not a total dick - but after more vanilla (or as vanilla as he gets) sex he can let it fall by the wayside in the favor of bailing.

so when it comes to receiving it, often he'll wave it off as unnecessary.

honestly though, he'll melt when you take care of him. I'm talking wide eyed staring and blushing when you're not looking at him, and quickly looking away when you do.

he'd be the kind to appreciate casual praise and touches (scratch behind his spikes or stroke his horns, he'll die over it) and snacks are a big thing for it.

he's also the kind that if you put a movie on, he'll definitely stay (and it's a good way to 'trick' him into letting his guard down long enough for a cuddle). Don't get too cuddly, but let him share your space and your snacks and he might even fall asleep on your shoulder.

I also see him as doing little things about aftercare without really thinking about it - he'll instinctively rub your wrists after being cuffed or smooth his hands over marks he's left on you to sooth them. Don't call attention to it - once he realizes what he's doing, he'll stop.

when it comes to sleep, I feel like either he's kind of energized after sex, or he passes out really fast, no in between. It really depends on the day and the session.

fantasy — do they have any sexual fantasies they'd like to try out? have they ever gotten to act on a sexual fantasy?

I feel like blitz is in a position where he gets to try out pretty much anything he wants because stolas is up to try almost anything.

between that and his extensive sexual history, there's not much he hasn't tried already.