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awordsmith · 3 months ago

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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 genre: 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

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avcdgrdn · 5 months ago

Text

what if the OG mystery trio was born in 1997 instead of the 50's? welcome to my very self-indulgent AU:

[ explanation & more info below cut 😏 ] ↓ ↓ ↓

my fancy lil' name for the AU is RWFF [ rewind, fast forward ]

having been born at the very beginning of gen Z, this puts the trio at around 27 years old present day! it's a modern AU with a little bit of seasoning to it ...

no bill cipher [ let my boys be happy & un-traumatized ]

by 2014: the machine incident still happens, but stan never gets disowned: he apologizes, ford forgives him & stands up for him when his father gets mad. this allows stan to stay in the house, and he never sets out on his own.

staying true to canon, ford attends backupsmore, meets fiddleford, and does like a crap ton of PHDs until he receives the massive grant that allows him to explore gravity falls. however, since he never meets bill cipher, he never delves into the portal project. instead, he finds massive success with all of his other paranormal discoveries and ingenious inventions [ COUGH filthy rich COUGH ]

all throughout his studies, ford would often contact fiddleford for assistance on random projects. they hung out a lot for sure and got super close :)

meanwhile, stanley's chillin & working with a car repair shop back in new jersey. thanks to ford, his family is really well off, so he doesn't necessarily urgently need to provide for himself. he takes an interest in cars, so he loves his job. he keeps in touch with his twin almost every day [ we love smartphones ]

by 2024: having found such good success in gravity falls, ford remembers his twin brother & extends the invitation for stan to move in with him so that they can work on the stan-o-war together, which he readily accepts. :D

present day: stan & ford are living together in gravity falls & working on the stan-o-war. [ basically what the canon timeline twins end up doing after many more years ]

fiddleford often comes to visit, either for a scientific project or just to chill with the twins. he's also a successful inventor, just in a different font [ he for sure has that manor fr 🤑 ]

the beauty of this being present day is the aesthetics:

ford heavily identifies with the classic academia aesthetic

fidds takes on a 70's artsy-fartsy hippie granola guy aesthetic [ septum piercing & tattoos fidds pls save me ]

stan sticks to street fashion/racer jackets for suuure. he's thinking about getting into motorcycles... he heard that chicks really dig that nowadays.

so like ........ yeah 🕺

who would you date first please lmk 😘

#you dont wanna know how long fidds pants took to draw bruh #gravity falls #gravity falls au #stanford pines #stanley pines #fiddleford mcgucket #ford pines #stan pines #gravity falls art #gravity falls fanart #mullet stanley #its 2 am #im so tired #avcdgrdn art

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justmeinadaze · 8 months ago

Text

Created A Monster Part 2 (Steddie X Kas Y/N)

A/N: Totally new for me here. Reader kind of takes more control in this one but I'm not calling it Sub/Dom dynamics. As someone going through some shit right now, this is kinda something I needed with the angst and their strong need to please her <3.

Enjoy!

Part 1

I can also leave it here or add another part. Up to you!

Warning: Steddie & Kas (vampire) Reader, SMUT, I read that bats give off pheromones so that was KINDA utilized here but all three here are consenting, dirty talk, boys desperate for her praise, etc. FLUFF, reader has memories of the guys that she forgot thanks to Vecna, it shows the love they had/have for each other. Memories are in black bold.

ANGST (because I'm me), she does insult them a lot through the beginning and they do what they can to make her remember them. The feels are abound. There is a cameo from the envision they have of her from part 1. She's always represented with italicized font. She mentions being hit by Vecna which makes the guys mad (rightfully!). There is a moment in the upside down near the end where Vecna expresses disappointment in her. That world is in red font. Cliffhanger ending.

Word Count: 6099

"Got you on your knees, beggin', "Mommy, please?" Girl I used to be, now she isn't me, say, "R.I.P."

Call a doctor I think I created a monster She's got a psycho inside her But I think that I kinda like her."

After removing your armor, they hastily tied you to a pillar and waited for you to wake.

“I watched her die in my arms, Steve. I held her till she took her last breath and even then people had to drag us away from her. How is she here?”

“I don’t know. She looks different…harder. She was always a badass but…’My master sends his regards.’ What can that mean?”

“In D&D there’s a character called Kas. He’s a solider with a sword who Vecna grants eternal life and in turn he becomes his right-hand man killing Vecna’s enemies.”

“But then why would she come after us?”

“I mean we did help take him out—”

“No, asshole. I mean why is she, Y/N, coming after us, the men she loves?”

Growling catches their attention as your eyes flutter open and you take in your surroundings.

“Sweetheart.”, Eddie coos as he holds up his hands in surrender to show he’s not a threat. “How are you feeling? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine but you aren’t. As soon as I get out of here, I’m going to rip you apart.”

“Oh, well, that’s nice.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he steps closer to you.

“Do you know who we are?”

“Steven Harrington, the former pathetic king of Hawkins who helped hurt my master by setting him on fire and Edward Munson who helped by distracting his babies so they couldn’t protect him. Still on the run, freak?”

Their eyes darkened as they listened to you speak. This wasn’t the girl they fell in love. You would have never said things like this to them before.

“And who are you then?”

Your body straightens as you raise your chin in defiance.

“I am my master’s right-hand and his strongest knight. I protect him and kill any of his enemies that he asks of me.”

“Ah, I see. So you’re his bitch?”

Baring your fangs, you hiss Eddie’s way causing both men to jump back before regaining their composure.

“My master takes care of me. He saved me when I was left bleeding to death on the concrete after you and friends tried to kill me!”

“Is that what he told you? No. No, honey, that’s not what happened. You were on our side of that fight.”

“My master said you would lie.”, you growl.

“HE killed you, Y/N. Him and his ‘babies’.”, the metalhead responded in an equally angry tone. “You were supposed to come back with us but you sacrificed yourself by distracting those things. THEY pinned you down and THEY bit into you. You died in my arms, sweetheart. How can you not remember this? I was fucking screaming at you—”

“Y/n! No, no, no, no, no. Stay with me, baby. Don’t you fucking close those beautiful eyes. Henderson! Go get Steve. Fucking hurry!”

“Be nice, a-asshole.”, you try to chuckle. “Eddie…I’m scared.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, ok? I’m right here and Steve is on his way. We’re gonna get you to a hospital. I just need you to keep talking with me.”

“I lo-ove you both…so much.”

“Hey, don’t you do that. Don’t fucking tell me goodbye!”

“It’s not goodbye… it’s—”

“…See you later.”

When you cut off Eddie’s story, his eyes locked with yours and for just a moment he saw the old you reflecting back within them. Their tiny victory was short lived however when your features hardened once more and you spit in their direction.

“Let me go now and I promise to kill you quickly.”

“What should we do?”, Steve asked his friend, ignoring your threat. “We can’t tell the others about her because then they may want to kill her.”

“Maybe we can take turns watching her and talking to her? Get her to remember who she is.”

“And what if that’s a lost cause?”

Both men glanced your way as you tried to pull out of your binds.

“Then…we kill her.”

####################

While Steve laid in bed, he stared at the ceiling above completely unable to sleep as the events of the night you died run through his mind.

He, Nancy, and Robin ran to where Eddie was clutching your limp body to his chest as he sobbed.

“No! NO! What happened?!”, Steve screamed as he slid to his friend’s side.

“She didn’t come through with us when we went back through the gate. She stayed behind to distract the bats and fight.”

“O-Ok. Ok, um, need to get her…get her to a…a hospital.”

“Steve—”

“NO!”, he shouted cutting Robin off as he reached over to pry you from the metalhead’s grasp. Dustin placed his hand on his shoulder when it took him a moment to let you go. “Honey?” His voice cracked when he felt how cold your skin was as he cupped your cheek in his palm. “Y/N, come back, baby. We won. We beat him. Vecna’s gone. We-We can go home.”

When your body remained lifeless in his arms, he desperately shook you.

“WAKE UP, Y/N! PLEASE!”

The realm around them began to quake almost knocking them off their feet.

“We need to go NOW!”, Nancy instructed.

“Ok, we-we need to lift her and—”

“We can’t Steve. We’ll barely be able to get Dustin back through and—”

“I’M NOT LEAVING HER HERE!”

“Neither am I.”, Eddie growled angrily at the thought.

“I don’t blame you for having to leave me behind.”, the vision of you coos softly from beside him. “Maybe if you hadn’t I wouldn’t be in the living room right now.”

“That’s not you.”, Steve whispered. “Whoever that is, is what Vecna made her to be.”

“Hm. That’s one way to look at it. What if a version of me was hidden there the whole time and you didn’t know.”

“Please. The girl we knew would never let anyone tell her what to do.”

“Oh wow. Is little Stevie disappointed?” When he rolled away from you, your light laugh echoed in his ears. “You always did like those nights when I took control, didn’t you?”

***

“He’s talking to himself in there.”, you say sarcastically to the metalhead sitting on the counter in front of you strumming his guitar.

“Yeah…he does that. He’s actually talk to you; a version of you.”

“Hm. We’ll that’s pathetic.” When he doesn’t respond or react to your words, your try to pull at your binds to no avail. “Do you also talk to a figment of your imagination?”

“Sometimes but I go to your grave to do that so I seem less insane.”, Eddie sighs as he readjusts his instrument.

When his fingers start making a melody, you freeze as you listen to the notes.

“I know that.”

A small smirk paints his lips as he plays a bit louder but softly murmurs some lyrics.

“In touch with the ground I'm on the hunt, I'm after you Smell like I sound, I'm lost in a crowd And I'm hungry like the wolf.”

“You always loved that song. I would tease you because you would stop anything you were doing to watch the music video if it came on.”, he chuckles at the memory.

“It was the fedora hats. Gave off this Indiana Jones vibe I always found attractive.”, the image of you beside Eddie laughed along with him.

“We surprised you once by buying the outfits they wear and dressing like the band for Halloween. You felt bad because you thought we should all match so we ran to the corner store and bought you this headband with ears and a tail you could clip to your jeans. As soon as we stepped outside you howled real loud like a wolf.”

Eddie’s head hung at the memory, desperately missing those times when you made him unbelievably happy.

“Baby, it’s ok to have hope that you can bring me back. You know it will kill you if you both don’t try.”, you try to soothe as you step closer to him. “It also ok if I don’t but you accept this new…powerful…stronger…sexier version of me.”

The metalhead snorts out another laugh as he glances towards the chained-up version of you to find your black eyes watching him curiously.

“Oh come on. I know the armor and attitude got you all riled up.”

“Am I turning you on, freak, or the imaginary friend you both talk to?” A wide toothy smile stretched across your face as you inhaled through your nose. “The other asshole is turned on to if it makes you feel better.”

Eddie listened to you manically laugh as he jumped down from the counter so his friend could take over watching you. He couldn’t handle your snarky attitude anymore.

#################

“Hey, man. You alright?”, Steve asked as his best friend sleepily came down the hallway rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah. I think I slept for like a total of 20 minutes.” Eddie’s gaze shifts to your sleeping frame that was now sitting on the floor with your head resting on your shoulder. “When did she knock out?”

“Um, around 6am. I was going to ask you; it seems like she’s a vampire like you said. She has the fangs and hates the sun.”

“Hm and the silver chains seem to be keeping her in place. She’s probably going to be hungry soon. I wonder how she eats. I mean it’s not like Vecna is the kind of asshole to give her blood.”

“Ed…she’s killed a lot of people, remember?”

“Steve?”

The sound of you calling out the man’s name grabbed their attention as the metalhead slowly stepped closer to you. Your eyes were still closed but your breathing had gotten shallow as your head lolled to the other side.

“Y/N?”

“Steve…Eddie’s…missing…”

The former jock’s eyes widened at your words as the memory flashed through his mind.

“STEVE! Did you see—”

“Yeah, baby, I did.”, he pants out as he runs around the Family Video counter to take you in his arms.

“Eddie’s missing! We have to find him! He’s probably terrified and panicking.”

“He’s probably at another friend’s house.”, Robin suggested. “Do you know who else he could be with?”

“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’m not missing anymore. You found me…you always did.”, he cooed.

His ringed hand shook as he slowly reached for your cheek, breathing a heavy sigh of pleasure when his thumb caressed your cool skin.

A low rumble left your chest and he promptly retracted when your eyes snapped open.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

“You were having a memory.”

“One of your lies imprinted in my brain!”

Steve angerly kicked one of the lower cabinets before leaning against the counter. A thought crossed his mind and you both watched him as he ran to the tv, searching through the plethora of VHS’s before finding what he wanted.

Standing back, he pushed a button on the remote and the sound of your laugh echoed through the apartment.

“Steve! I’m going to laugh if we play this back and you’ve been filming the wall the whole time!”

“Honey, the lens is pointing at us. How would it capture the wall?!”

“Here, maybe, if we squeeze closer together…”

“Eddie! You’re crushing my ribs!”, you whine as the metalhead pushes you three closer together.

Their eyes scan you over as you watch the video in front of you and your whole demeanor softened.

“You guys are so dumb.”, you giggle and sigh.

“Yeah but you still love us.”

“Damn right.”, you coo as you tilt up to kiss Steve’s lips. “So why did you spend money on this bulky thing?”

“Because…a few years from now when we’re married and have our six to ten kids…” The boy smiled when you rolled your eyes and your palm reached up to pet Eddie’s curls as he laughed into your shoulder. “… we can look back on this and remember. Remember a time when we were done fighting monsters and villains. A time before I became some awesome businessman working with Robin and making a ton of money.”

“A time before I became a fucking rockstar and women were screaming my name.”

“Oh my god, Ed.”, you laugh before he grips your chin and turns you towards him.

“I’m sure even then all I hear is you.”, Eddie smiles as he kisses your lips. “What about you, sweetheart? What will you be doing?”

You softly grin as you pull them closer.

“I don’t know yet but as long as I’m with you two I know I’ll be happy.”

“…I know I’ll be happy.”

When your words echoed alongside the ones in the video, another pang of hope pierced their hearts.

“Did we fake that? Or imprint the idea in your head?”, Steve asked trying to hide the pleading in his tone. “You loved us and we loved you.”

“So much.”, Eddie added. “Still do, baby.”

A tear fell down your cheek as your eyes stared into a void, fleeting subtly from left to right as if you were sifting through your brain trying to decipher what was real.

“Leave me alone.”, you commanded in a soft tone as you hung your head.

Nodding, they did what you ask, surprising even you when they didn’t try to argue back.

***

“Ed! Wake up, man. Something’s wrong.”

Eddie’s head shot up from the chair he had fallen asleep on as his friend began to shake him.

“Wha--? What’s happening?”

“I don’t know. She’s really clammy and growling.”

Without hesitation, he headed your way and carefully took you in. Your eyes were now fully black as your head leaned back against the wall and you panted heavily. Your shirt was damp against your chest as sweat fell from your temple and your stomach rumbled.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”

When you didn’t answer, he stepped forward before abruptly pausing when you hissed his way.

“Hungry.”

“O-Ok. Um, what do you eat? Do need blood?” As he began taking off his bracelets and rings, Steve grabbed his shoulder to stop him. “She needs to eat or she’ll die, Steve.”

“What if she kills you?”

“Then she kills me. I lost her once; I’m not losing her again.”

You blinked as you listened to them speak in such absolutes about you. Your master told you that they were vile, selfish men who left you for dead to save themselves. But then why were they offering to feed you? Why were they trying so hard to keep you around?

“Here, sweetheart, take what you need.” When he noticed you looking at the scars on his wrist, Eddie lightly chuckled. “My, uh, beauty wound.”

“I…have them…to.”

“Yeah.”, he sighed. “I tried to save you but those little fuckers were everywhere. They got me pinned before I could get to you but, um, thankfully Steve saved the day.”

“Y/N! Y/N, I’m coming, princess. Fuck! Let me—ugh!—let me go!”

You shook out his voice screaming inside your head as pain shot through your body and you growled.

“Shit. Ok, come on, Y/N. Go ahead and eat.”, the metalhead instructed as he placed his wrist by your lips. His scent wafted into your nose as another memory filled your brain.

“The fuck are you doing you, weirdo?”, Eddie teases when he feels you inhale and nuzzle into his neck while you were straddling his lap as he tried to read.

“I like the way you smell.”

He cackles through his teeth making you smile as you hug him tighter.

“I smell disgusting. I haven’t showered in like three days and you know I smoke like a chimney.”

Tilting back, you tenderly kiss his lips.

“Its YOU. I love the way YOU smell.”

While you were lost in your head, Eddie couldn’t help but caress your cheek and to his pleasure you turned into his palm.

Suddenly, your teeth sunk into his flesh making him wince as the other boy stepped forward before he held up his free hand to stop him. As you drained his blood his chocolate eyes flutter closed as he groaned, falling towards you as his palm shot out to catch himself against the wall.

“Talk to me, Munson.”

When his friend didn’t respond, Steve swiftly jumped into action, yanking him from you so hard he fell to the floor. You loudly growled at the action, your wings expanding as you push forward and broke the chain around you. Tackling him to the ground, he did his best to fight against you but you were stronger as your fangs sunk into his neck.

The former jock’s fight slowly left him as his panicked whimpers were replaced with hefty groans of need as his fingers reached up to lace in your hair.

“Ok, now look.”

As you slowly open your eyes and see your reflection in the mirror, you let out a loud “HA!” as you cover your mouth to stifle the rest from escaping.

“What?! You don’t like it?”, Steve teases with a big grin as his large hand lightly pats your floofy hair being held up currently by a ton of hairspray. “You said you wanted to look like Madonna in that one video and for some reason trusted me to accomplish that.”

“I just thought that Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington would have some knowledge into hair.”

“Well, honey that was your mistake, not mine.” The boy’s laugh echoes through his always empty home as you gently hit his arm and he falls onto his back bringing you with him. “I still think you look beautiful.”

Your smile grows as you kiss his lips and he wraps his arms around you.

“Eddie’s gonna have a field day though.”

“What?”, Steve asked breathlessly as he cupped your cheeks. “Keep going, baby. T-Take it. Take it all if you need to.”

At his words, a bunch of memories flash through your mind at once, overloading your brain as you tumble backwards on to the floor.

“Whoa! What’s going on, sweetheart?”, Eddie asked as he hastily slid to your side.

“I guess, um, we’re lab partners today?”, Steve forces a smile as he extends his hand to you. “I’m Steve Harrington.”

Eddie cautiously hands you a cigarette as he eyes you up and down as you both lean against the brick wall. “I’m Eddie…Eddie Munson. What’s your name?”

“Christ, I suck at this. The last person I said this to didn’t feel the same but…I don’t know…It’s just different…with you. What I’m trying to say, Y/N, is…I love you.”

“I love you, sweetheart, so much. I never thought I’d ever feel this way about anyone.”

“STEVE! Oh my God! Are you alright? When you got pulled under again I got so scared. Oh, fuck you’re bleeding. Nancy, do you have anything we can wrap around him?”

“I’m buying you more time. Don’t worry, Eddie, you can spank me after we finish this.”

“Y/N! No! Baby, please! Y/N! Y/N! Y/N.”

Both men covered their ear as you tilted your head back and screamed. Before either of them could do anything about it, your wings expanded and you flew out the window.

#################

“What happened?”, Dustin asked after Eddie silently opened their front door and he saw their destroyed apartment. “We, um, Mike, Nancy, Robin, and I have been trying to call you guys these past couple of days. Did something happen? Someone break in?”

“No…nothing happened.”, the metalhead responded sullenly as he threw himself down on the couch.

The young boy’s eyes flicked to Steve who was seemingly fuming as he paced back and forth in their kitchen.

“Did you get cut?”, Dustin inquired as he gestured towards his friend’s neck.

“She has to come back. We know she’ll come back. She’ll remember. She’ll remember. She’ll remember.”

“Ok, no. Something’s not right! Now tell me or—”

“Or what?”, the former jock snapped. “Or WHAT, Henderson?!” Thrown off guard by his tone, Dustin slowly backed towards the door as his friend stalked his way. “Nothing then? Didn’t think so.” After lightly shoving the boy’s chest, he slammed the door and went back into the kitchen to pace.

“That was rude.”, the vision of you scolded.

“Fuck OFF.”

“Oooo Mr. Harrington… are you…needy?”, you cackle mockingly as he glares your way. “Hmmm. Who would have thought you were into biting?”

“I’m not…you…you did something…”

“Who? Vampire Kas me? Ha! To be fair, it’s been, what, five months since either of you have gotten any? Feeling me on your lap again probably kick started your cock, you bad boy.”

The sound of glass shatters loudly as Steve throws a plate against the wall towards the vision of you.

“Would you calm the fuck down!?”, Eddie shouts.

“Fuck you!! Fuck everybody!”

The metalhead rises to his feet and stomps towards his friend before shoving his chest.

“I feel it to but you don’t see me screaming at hallucinations and throwing shit!”

“Ugh! What did she do, Munson?!”

“She’s a fucking vampire now, right? Bats give off pheromones… Don’t look at me like that, Harrington! I don’t see you coming up with anything better!”

As night fell, they did everything they could to distract themselves but images of you constantly clouded their mind way more than before. They barely even heard it when your feet landed on the tile in the kitchen and your wings retracted.

When their eyes landed on you, they thought they were envisioning you again. Your hair was laying down against your shoulders along a clean white tank top with matching shorts. Slowly, you tip toed to the couch where Eddie was laying drenched in sweat. Silently, you grabbed the back of his hand and place his palm against your cheek as you keened into the feeling.

When his eyes found yours, his eyebrows knitted together as he pushed up on his elbow and his thumb ran along the purple bruise under your eye.

“What happened, princess?”

Steve crawled from his place on the floor near the hallway till he was right beside you both and used his fingers to brush your hair behind your ear.

“Did I do that? Did we…?”

You shook your head as your gaze averted from theirs.

“I…I asked my master…too many questions…”

The boy growled as he forced himself to his feet and stumbled towards the sword he had defeated you with on the ground.

“I helped kill that fucker once, I can do it again.”

Steve blinked in surprise when you were suddenly in front of him, gently prying the weapon from his hand. As he fell back against the wall, you fell into him and he limply circled his arms around you.

“I’m sorry, honey. We’re not all…all here…”

Tenderly grabbing his hands, you placed them higher up your back before the sound of your wings expanding filled the apartment causing Eddie to roll off the couch and stagger your way.

“No, NO, sweetheart, please…don’t go…”

Shaking your head, you place him beside his friend and lightly flap your wings their way. That feeling of need washed over them again causing both men to groan.

“You were too close.”, you say as you gesture behind you. “It’s meant for enemies…to defuse a situation…I panicked…too many memories.”, you whisper sullenly.

The metalhead tugs on your wrist, bringing you to him as he pushes your head against him. When your lips pressed against one of his tattoos, he practically melted, moaning at the action. Steve followed with a mewl of his own when your hand reached out to run along the hair that was sticking to his sweaty chest.

A prominent whine escaped them as you took a few steps back with Eddie falling to his knees and crawling as he tried remaining as close to you as possible. Your eyelids fluttered as his lips trailed from your feet, along your calf, and up your thigh till he reached your stomach.

After petting the long-haired boy’s head, you sauntered past them both down the hallway, pausing to beckon them with your finger and both men immediately follow. Laying down on the bed, they kiss and run their tongues along any part of your skin they can reach from your neck to the tips of your fingers.

Each pant and heavy whimper that left their mouths knocked something loose in your mind that turned you on more and more.

“That’s it, Eddie, baby. Harder, please.”

“Fuck, Steve, I can feel you in my stomach.”

“Oh my God, pretty girl. You’re so fucking tight. You take us both so well.”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Ride my cock just like that.”

Lightly guiding his head with your fingers in his hair, you maneuvered Steve between your legs and helped him pull down your shorts while Eddie did the same with your top.

The metalhead promptly latched onto your tit as the pretty boy pressed gentle kisses against your pussy lips till his tongue licked a long stripe through your folds.

“Oh fuck, honey. I-I never thought I’d be able to taste you again. Still so fucking sweet.”

As his face fell back in your cunt and his mouth wrapped around your clit, your fingers softly played with his hair.

“That’s it, Steve. Such a good boy for me making me feel so good.”

Jealousy coursed through Eddie at the encouragement, desperately wanting it as well. Rings dug into your flesh as the long-haired boy sucked and nibbled on your breast a bit harder causing your back to arch into the man below.

“Aw—mmm—does Eddie need some attention to? Fuck, your both gonna make me cum.”

Both men hurried their rhythm just as desperate to hear you come undone and as you tumbled over the edge, you clung to them tightly as continuous moans fell from your lips. Grinning drunkenly, it took you some time to come down from your high but when you did you were met with animalist grunts as they pushed at each other.

“You just ate her out! Why do you get to fuck her first?

“Because I can!”

A gruff growl left your throat as you pushed up and gripped Steve’s chin between your fingers roughly.

“Don’t be greedy, Steve Harrington. You’re both mine and you’ve had a taste. It’s his turn.”

The boy nodded when you let him go, pressing his lips to yours.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. You’re right. You’re right. Forgive me, baby, please.” At his last sentence, Steve’s voice cracked in pain and in return you kissed his forehead. “Thank you. I’m sorry, Ed. I’m so sorry.”

The metalhead curtly nodded as if to say he forgave his friend and when he turned to focus on you, he was rewarded with your legs open wide as your hand rubbed slow circles against your clit.

“Come here, Eddie. I can help make you feel better.”

After climbing the length of your body, his beautiful, glassy eyes locked with yours as he slowly guided his cock into your warm core making him loudly groan.

“Ahhh my god, Y/N. Y-You feel…” He tried to control the strain in his tone but Eddie was so overwhelmed by the feeling of you as he delivered small, pointed thrusts that had little pants falling from your lips.

“How do I feel, baby? Tell me.”

His long hair tickled your cheek as his head fell beside yours and your legs wrapped around his waist pushing him closer to you.

“You feel so fucking good. I missed you so much, sweetheart, you have no fucking idea. I’m sorry I failed to bring you back. I broke our promise.”

“You’re safe with me, pretty girl, and I promise nothing is ever going to hurt you as long as I’m here.”

Clinging to him, your lips tenderly kiss the skin along his shoulder as Eddie’s pace hastens and his hips slam aggressively into your own.

“It’s ok, baby. You did everything y-you could.” You tried to say that as confidently as you could but the truth of the matter was you just didn’t remember. These past couple of days, your brain had been sifting through two timelines and it felt like sometimes you were viewing someone else’s life. But they were hurting and you could feel the sincerity when they spoke.

Your master told you he loved you and would protect you; that he would never lie to you. But when you asked him questions about your memories, he became angry.

“WHY ARE YOU QUESTIONING ME?! After everything I’ve done for you, Y/N. You let them get in your head didn’t you? Made you weak? I knew I should I have left you on the concrete.”

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey.”, Eddie cooed as he lifted on to his elbow to look you over when he heard you start to sniffle. “Are you ok? Am I hurting you?”

Shaking your head, you encourage him with your palms to keep moving. His lips gently press a kiss to your forehead and down to your cheek as finds his rhythm again.

“Just l-like that, sweetheart, fuck. Your cock is so deep, Eddie.”, you whisper in his ear. “I love you.”

Your eyes roll back as the coil snaps and your nails drag almost painfully down his back but the metalhead doesn’t care as he chases his high, falling flat on top of you as he rolls his hips and releases his seed inside of you.

“Good boy, baby. It’s Steve’s turn now, ok?”

Lazily nodding, he rolled to away from you as the other boy grabbed your arm and pulled you his chest while he laid on his side. After lifting your leg and hooking his arm under your knee, you helped guide his length into your sensitive hole causing your back to arch off the bed as you moaned.

“Mmm—Stevie, oh my God—you’re so big. Stretching me open, baby boy.”

“Fuck.”, he groaned as he steadily pumped his hips. “Look at me, honey, please. I n-need to see your face.” When you craned your neck to do what he asked, his palm grazed your forehead, moving your hair back so he could see everything with no obstruction. “I missed you, Y/N. F-Fucking—mmm—dreamed about you every night.”

You mewled as he pounded into you and his arms abruptly pulled your body tighter against him.

“I tried, Y/N. I prayed you would never see the monsters in this town. I tried to—mmph—shield you.”

“Steven! What aren’t you telling me!” The man’s head hangs as he sits in his bedroom after you and Eddie picked him up from the hospital after the mall caught fire. “Baby…look at your face. That’s not just from a fire. Someone hurt you… Please…”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”, he murmured under his breath.

Reaching out with your fingers to move his hair, Steve winces as a tear falls from his wounded eye.

"Try us.”

Your fingers thread through his as his rhythm picks up and his cock abuses that spongey spot inside of you.

“I’m sorry, baby. W-We weren’t fast enough…”

“It’s not your fault. Make me cum, Steve, please.” Pushing up on his elbow, his eyes met yours as he did what you asked and your mouth fell open in a silent moan as he thrust into you harder. “I love you to.”

Lips crashed to yours as your body trembled and you came with him following as he warmed your insides.

Both men clung to you as the kissed along your sweaty skin, thankful that you were between them once again.

################

Vecna sighs from his spot in his crumbling home those insignificant kids tried to burn down. Idiots. He was slowly getting stronger and soon they would feel his wrath. Until then he had to depend on you; a friend and girlfriend to the people he despised. You had proven useful these past few months but when you disappeared, he thought they had killed you and began moving forward with his plan without you.

When you flew in with half your armor missing and blood dripping from your mouth…he was disappointed.

“What took you so long? I thought you were dead.”

Your head tilted at his aloof tone as you fought the urge to cry.

“I’m sorry, Master. Eddie and Steve were much harder to dispatch than I thought.”

“Hm. Eddie and Steve, huh? I thought they were the freak and asshole. At least that what’s you called them.”

“I-I-I…”

“Fitting men who hurt you and left you to die.”

“Did they?”

You didn’t mean to say it out loud but you still stood up straighter when he turned to face you, his intimidating eyes taking you in as he stepped forward.

“Are you questioning me?”

“No…N-No, sir. I just…I’ve been having these…flashes and—”

Vecna’s large hand across your face cut you off as he smacked you hard and you fell to the ground. He reprimanded you and you flew away to your “home” to rest so you could go back out when night fell again. You thought he didn’t know your secrets but he always did. This WHOLE WORLD was his home.

He felt the wind of your wings when you descended to the apartment building you felt safe in for some reason. The vine that you moved out of the way as you opened the window to a “random” apartment and curled up on a dusty bed. The pin of the thumb tac you put in the wall to replace the generic frames that were there with a banner from the trailer you explored next to where you woke up.

You didn’t know what “Corroded Coffin” was but for some reason the design gave you peace. After removing your armor, you would sift through your closet for clothes you lifted from that same trailer and another house a few miles down the way. Dozens of polo shirts and band tee’s that were much bigger than your tiny frame but they calmed you as soon as you put them on.

You had hidden little Knick knacks in the drawer nearby hoping one day you’d get the courage to ask your master why they felt so important to you. There was a 20-sided die beside a book with notes about dragons and dungeons and hair gel that smelled familiar but you couldn’t pinpoint where. You had four metal rings that sometimes you put on your fingers as you slept feeling like someone was holding your hand in the dark when you did. In the house you found the polos in, there was a pair of sunglasses on the dresser that you ignored at first because there was no sun here but something in your stomach tugged at you to bring them with you.

“Weak”, Vecna thought every single time.

When morning came around and you didn’t come home again he shifted from disappointed to annoyed. Maybe he needed to do this particular task himself. He still wasn’t as strong as he was before but he had enough strength to take out two measly men.

You would learn…one way or another…

****

You gasp as the strong feeling that woke you slowly recedes but are hit with the peak of sunlight that penetrates the through the crack in the shades causing you to hiss as you jump out of bed and push your back to a corner.

“Whoa! Ok, baby. It’s ok!”, Steve calms as he hastily throws off the covers and runs to fully cover the part of the window that had sun coming through.

Eddie slides down to his knees in front of you as his eyes look you over with concern.

“What’s going on, Y/N? What happened?”

“We…we…we have to…I have to go… I have to…”

“Sweetheart, it’s noon. The sun will hurt you—”

“Ok, then you need to leave. Right now. RIGHT NOW!”

As you stand up and start to push forward, ring covered fingers keep you in place before you growl and the man lets you go holding his palms in the air.

“Just talk to us, honey. What’s going on? Let us help you.”, Steve pleads as he takes his place at his friend’s side.

“He’s coming for you because I failed.”

“Who?”

Your worried gaze shifts between them both as you sigh and shake your head, annoyed that they don’t already know.

“Who’s coming for us, baby?”, Eddie asked again as he stepped towards you and carefully pushed some of your hair behind your ear. Closing your eyes, you turn your cheek into his palm and kiss the skin as you place your hand over the back of his own.

“My master.”

###############

Tip/ Ko-Fi :)

@dashingdeb16 @nailbatanddungeon @hardladyheart @hiscrimsonangel @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @iheartmyguitars

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banggyu0308 · 2 years ago

Text

genre: internet strangers to lovers, idol au, smut

warnings: nsfw under the cut, not very coherent, slutty yeonjun, dom!yeonjun, sexting, choking kink, pet names (baby), praise, drinking (they don't get THAT drunk, alright guys?), one night stand-ish, degradation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, handholding, cursing, dacryphilia, yeonjun lurks on social media TT, reader is bold ASF, not proofread

wc: 2.5k+

an: tysm for the username help @itgirlgyu TT + this is just for the delulus + @beomsl MEL YOU REMEMBER WHEN WE TALKED ABT PART OF THIS???? + i might title this later but who knows!!

taglist: @full-sunnies , @agustdiv1ne

yeonjun who likes to wear his tank tops to show off, loves heading onto moa twitter and tumblr after lives just to see the fandom having a meltdown... especially hard stan social media, watching all the comments and photos of himself show up. he likes being in control like this, having the power to make everyone else go crazy just by wearing something else that day.

he scrolls and scrolls and one specific post pops up, it's community labeled and when he clicks 'keep reading', he can see why; pretty tits on display from the original poster, comments in the tags all about how she's all his, and he's not very surprised to feel himself growing hard in his pants. yeonjun eyes the username, ready to click the blue-fonted 'follow' button, but it's already gone, and his eyes widen to see that it's an account he's been following and interacting with for a while. that fact only makes it better, and he's clicking to his chat with you before he can even think it through what he's about to do.

yawnchoi you look really pretty in that new post...

yn what can i say? yeonjun brings out a special part of me 😭

yawnchoi im very sure he feels the exact same

yn in my dreams 😭 don't fuel my deluluness

yawnchoi i'm being very serious right now

yn mhm mhm sureeee and how would YOU know? 😑

yawnchoi ajksdbwsjdhbw maybe this wasn't a good idea

yn WHAT wasn't a good idea, hm? 🤨

yawnchoi baby all i'm trying to do is figure out how to word that i'm yeonjun 😭

yn i do not believe you for one moment

yawnchoi i'll send a pic that i would never, ever post and you can even reverse image search it or whatever or i could send a video, im not messing around baby

yn go ahead then ;-;

yawnchoi [sent a photo]

yn alright so yeonjun would definitely never post a photo of him in his boxers in bed so imma need that video 🙏

yawnchoi [sent a video]

yn oh. oh holy shit choi yeonjun has seen my tits- NOT ONLY HAS HE SEEN MY TITS HE LIKES THEM- one sec imma need to process haha im totally not hyperventilating haha

yn alright im back hi haha

yawnchoi helloooo 👋

yn wow. alright. so. uh. how do i ask this- you wanna see more tit pics?

yawnchoi THAT WAS SO BOLD HELP ME- but yes pleaseeee

yn [sent a photo]

yawnchoi oh baby- holy shit you're so pretty 🥺

yn thanks jjunie kwsnbdwjkd im still like- going crazy rn yawnchoi thats cute baby :((

yn wjhbswhjdhj so- since you've seen my tits i wanna see you again :(( preferably your dick but haha

yawnchoi yeah? pretty baby wants to see my dick?

yn kjwbshwjdbhe yes please?

yawnchoi asking so nicely... alright baby~ [sent a photo]

yn oh 😳 oh fuck alright sjbdsewjh wanna touch :((

yawnchoi me or yourself, baby?

yn well, both, but only one can happen, right? so me-

yawnchoi go ahead, can i see? yn alright 😳 [sent a video]

yawnchoi baby's so pretty :(( wanna see you cum for me <3

yn [sent a video] would be better if you were here :( want you to touch me so bad wjbwjhdbe

yawnchoi can fly you into korea if you want...

yn YOU'RE KISSING *KIDDING

yawnchoi i'm notttttttt dekjbdekj pretty cunt's got me all horny :((

yn i don't even care if it's a one night stand choi fucking yeonjun's gonna fly me out to korea to fuck me heck yeah

---------------------------------

and he does. books a flight last minute for the next day, from your country to seoul, puts on a pair of sunglasses and his least conspicuous outfit, and drives to the airport. he isn't THAT nervous- it's not like he thinks you're gonna murder him.

and when you walk out of the airport building with nothing but a backpack with you, looking around and waving slightly when you see him, his heart quickens just a little. (and NOT just because he's seen you naked).

you decide to sit in the back of his car for no reason other than you want to, and maybe a little bit because you can't exactly handle looking at him straight on quite yet.

to your surprise, there's no awkward small talk, just him getting straight to the point and saying all the members are out of the dorm currently, but, ever the gentleman, he says since you flew a long way, you can sleep a little bit first and he won't bother you.

your whole body is on alert and you find yourself thinking that there's no way you'd be able to sleep now. it's one thing to sext someone knowing they're an idol- another to actually be in the car with them, on your way to where they live, and knowing you're going to actually fuck them.

yeonjun politely takes your bag when you get out of the car, and when his fingers wrap around the strap, his hand brushes yours slightly. you internally feel like you might faint- you hadn't actually prepared yourself for this, and now he was touching you and he feels real and you knew he was real but now it just feels extra.

holding your bag, he opens the door to the dorm, leading you in before following, taking you into his room and placing your bag down on the floor next to his bed. every single action that takes him closer to you makes your face grow hot, the bed dipping slightly under your weight when you sit down. the sheets are soft, but your mind barely registers it, focusing instead on the fact that you are in yeonjun's bed.

he opens his mouth to say something, and you panic, cutting him off quickly with a wry grin and a statement. "i might need some alcohol in my system before we do anything else."

yeonjun raises his eyebrows in the slightest, a little surprised, but he also gets it. he's pretty sure both his body and his mind want you way too much right now, but he's so nervous he might not do anything. his hands are twisted in his lap and he quickly realizes and sits on them instead before standing.

he leads you to the kitchen, getting himself a can of beer and letting you pour yourself a couple shots of vodka. you know your limits- it's just enough for you to get a little tipsy and stop overthinking everything.

knocking one back, you enjoy the burn in your throat before taking the second. the slight buzz under your skin makes you smile slightly, leaning against the counter while he takes long sips of his own drink. it's obvious he wants this to pick up, so you busy yourself messing with his shirt just a little while he drinks. you slip your fingers under his sleeve, mindlessly rubbing your fingertips back and forth over his skin. you can tell he remembered your comments the previous day about his arms, basing his outfit around that.

he has another tank top on today, arms flexing when he brings the can to his lips to take another sip, and you move your hands a little farther down to rest on his chest. this time, when he lowers the can, his lips are a little wet from the drink and you can't help but press a messy kiss to them, licking the liquid off. yeonjun lets out a slight hiss when your tongues meet, left hand reaching behind him to place the can on the counter.

the alcohol must really be working already because you're both stumbling to his room, messily tugging each other's clothes off, and yeonjun leaves a line of wet hickeys up your neck. each and every touch of his skin on yours makes you feel fire burn a trail across your body, but it's in a way that makes you almost absolutely sure that it's not just because he's one of your celebrity crushes, or because you're a little drunk.

yeonjun's movements are so rushed that in seconds he's on top of you, his own shirt off, pants quick to follow once you tug at them. your hands find way to his newly-lightened hair when his lips and tongue meet yours again, a different kind of intoxication weaving itself up and over each of your limbs, the kind of intoxication that makes you want to live and breathe this man.

"want you," he whispers, cheeks pink from the alcohol, his eyes slightly glazed when he looks into yours, and the way he says it makes your cheeks grow hot again.

"go ahead then, 'm all yours," you exhale in response, trying to ignore the way your heart twinges at your own words. this is just a one time thing, you have to remind yourself.

but yeonjun's eyes light up and he presses another kiss to your lower lip, one hand moving between your legs to part them. his eyes lower to your cunt, and you can feel the way your underwear are sticking to your pussy. you'd chosen to wear white underwear today and you're pretty sure they're see-through by now, drenched completely from all the feelings yeonjun's touch is sending through you.

"all mine?" yeonjun mumbles, eyes wide. and when you nod, he smirks slightly. "love your cunt so much, i might just take you right now." your own eyes widen and yeonjun can feel your breath hitch. "but you'd like that, wouldn't you? pretty slut would love her jjunie taking her raw, would love to have me cum inside..."

you suck in a breath through your teeth at his words, nodding quickly, spread out on the bed beneath him. your mouth tastes like alcohol and yeonjun, and your brain tries to forget how he so flippantly called himself your jjunie.

"jjun, just, just fuck me, please?" you whimper out when he rubs a fingertip over your clothed cunt.

"baby asked so nicely, might as well give her what she wants," he coos, tugging off his boxers only once he slides your underwear down your legs. "promise you'll let me taste you next time?"

you nod, too distracted by the fact that he's already planning a 'next time' in his head to realize that he wants to eat you out, but by the time you understand, he has the tip of his cock pressed to your entrance, other hand holding yours as he slowly pushes in. the gesture feels sweet, romantic even, and you let your eyes fall shut when he pauses his movements.

yeonjun's body is pressed flush to yours in a way that allows him to brush his fingers over your neck, skin smooth against you. his hand wraps loosely around your neck and his breath is hot on your cheek when he whispers, "is this okay?"

you nod once more, only because the combination of the alcohol and his body on you is making your brain so fuzzy you can't think clear enough to speak. yeonjun hums lightly and experiments with his grip, making you gasp a little when he also hits your g-spot. he lets out a hiss when your already-tight walls tighten further around him.

he'd had a feeling that you'd feel like heaven around him, just because of the fact you had stated you were only able to fit two fingers inside yourself, but he had obviously underestimated all the sensations that were going to overwhelm him like they are now. every movement of his hips towards yours makes him fight to control the tremble of his body. your hand is linked with the one he doesn't have around your neck and every time he buries himself completely inside you, your hand tightens just a little around his.

he's losing himself just a little, hand still laced with yours, pace quickening until jolty, broken, high pitched moans are the only sound leaving you. yeonjun can't help but smirk at that, hoisting one leg over his shoulder. "fucking pussy is so perfect, almost like it's made for me, taking me so well... might just keep you here, my personal little cumslut, could bring you on tour with us, fuck you every night in the hotel room, how'd you like that, hm?"

his rhythm is so brutal you're choking on your words by now, broken sobs slipping through your parted lips, tears filling your waterline and then slipping down your cheeks, mixing with the slight mascara you'd put on this morning and making your face a mess. yeonjun likes it too, the way he's so easily able to get you like this, just a few words from his lips and you're crying.

he can't help but tell you this with a mocking pout on his lips that turns into yet another smirk, chuckling when all you can do is whimper incoherently. yeonjun kisses you gentle enough to make up for his harsh words though, he's only trying to make you feel good, and he knows you like it when he talks down to you.

one hand still around your neck, the other moves from your hand to your waist, and he's only fucking into you harder when you whine out that you're close. his lips catch yours again when you gasp out his name, gummy walls fluttering around his dick as your whole body shakes from the force of your orgasm, yeonjun's fingertip rubbing at your clit making you convulse under him.

yeonjun bites back a little moan and lowers his lips to your ear again. "can i cum in you, baby? let me make you mine?"

you can't tell if he's just saying it in the heat of the moment, but you nod, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside you.

he bites his lip slightly, only losing control completely when you lick up the side of his neck and bite a splotchy hickey onto his neck. his warm cum fills you as he mumbles out a string of curses mixed with your name against your neck.

yeonjun practically collapses on you once he pulls out but lets himself take a second to marvel at how pretty you look right now, mascara leaking down your cheeks and neck, his cum and yours leaking from your swollen, abused cunt.

you let him wrap his arms around your form, cheek against his chest, both your bodies hot and sweaty, his bangs plastered to his forehead. there's a question on the tip of your tongue but he answers it for you, mumbling in your ear, "will you stay? for longer than just today?" yeonjun pauses slightly, then continues. "i'm not sure if i want you to be just one time. i know that this part of our relationship is new but we've been talking for so long and yeah, i don't want you to go back home and for this never to happen again."

you purse your lips, alcohol fogging up your brain and making you a little too sleepy to respond. "we'll talk tomorrow, hm? it's late and i had a long flight and i'm tired, jjunie..."

he nods slightly, running a hand through his hair, and presses a kiss to your forehead. "goodnight, yn."

"night night, yeonjun," you exhale.

you're almost half asleep when you hear him whisper, "the others'll be home soon, if they see us like this, i'm blaming you..."

#ada speaks :)#adas hard hours #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #yeonjun smut #yeonjun hard thoughts #yeonjun hard hours #yeonjun fic #txt fic #txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #this yeonjun reminds me of yeonjun in one of my fics and i LOVE it #may add this to the list of things to write part 2's too #not my fav endings but i had to #its IMPORTANT

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edenspoem · 1 year ago

Note

Domestic!Ellie is my addiction.

I need more. You don’t understand. It’s not a want!? It’s a DESIRE A NEEDDDDD!!!!!! Just reading the hc’s, how sweet and soft she is under it all.

When she’s herself again, that goofy dorky nerd we all know her to beeee!!! AGHHH!!!

- 🩵

i see more domestic!farm!ellie than i do domestic!jackson!ellie, and i think the latter needs to be discussed more.

no cuz farm!ellie— as I've definitely claimed before, is very husband coded. on the other hand, a more early–lover, girlfriend who takes care of the child u got knocked up with. which is literally dina, but, i guess if ur' not obliged to the thought of getting knocked up in the first place; gamer dad. i grew up with one, not like he was present 24/7, but like.. ellie? same font alternate story. i also hc ellie does best with boys, idk. just feel it. okay, maybe cause of jj.

stopp staying over at ellie's place for the night n' you bring the lil' guy over swaddled to your chest— legit, sowing two steps upon her doorstep, darkening it, not even getting the chance to knock, nay cast breath over it, and it's swung open and the bundle of wrathful joy nearing the age of two once strapped to you is now ecstatically babbling in your auburnettes arms. tis' fucking magic; how whenever ellie comes in contact with that baby, skies are rainbow–painted and mourning doves are entrancing the whole of jackson with a birdsong. how ur sweet boy, blood of your blood and bone of your bone, weeps gutty murder in the hold of yours truly— but dries of cheek and whorls of smile with ellie, is unfathomable.

"heyy dude, hows my favorite lil' guy in the world doing?" baby–talks ellie, so ooey and cooey as she bounces at the knee, blocking the doorway, "whos' ready to watch mom play the turning? i know mama is, i know you aree." you are but a fragment to her now, a forgotten shadow at her door. that sounds grim but take it literally. she like, literally forgets to kiss you at the door sometimes.

"ellie." comically, you tap your foot, faking a downturned pout left to dry without her kisses, and the cruel wintry air.

snapping her fern eyes up, she jerks a dumbfounded visage— and an even dumber query, "what?"

"my kiss?"

"oh, right.. um," her face relaxes and turns lily–white of innocence, shooting scattered glances at the child as she slants her weight over to you, "hey babe." extending graceful as a swans neck yet devoting you only a measly peck on the mouth measured lesser than a second before she slunk her body back and spun inside, rambling chin–tucked to that child, "ellies' got a new record i think you'll really like.."

lips still baked to a dry, you stare in catatonic quiescence at the eclipsed circle of pale lamp–light streaking around her bun as she paces away from you. step, by step, by hurried step, eager to spill attention with the full force of her coos amusing the easy–to–please mind, garbiling a possible bravo! or huzah!— until nightfall would whistle through the crickets and quiet him to sleep. leaving you, an even larger, tatted up baby now whiny for your attention.

need to see angelgbc photos of jackson!ellie holding jj now

#ellie williams #⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras asks #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams fluff #domestic!ellie #jackson!ellie #lesbian #sapphic #ellie x reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams concept #⋆ .🩵 anon

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stars-and-the-min · 11 months ago

Text

☆ the wrong way to hard launch (2) | OP81

summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au

pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc

a/n more unserious behaviour

masterlist | last part | part 2 | next part

TWITTER

kayla @luna_apocolyse · 42m oomf... i fear you have girlbossed too close to the sun with this one

↳ MANIFESTED OSCALINA | LONDON N3 @12m0red4ys · 31m nothing comedic about it i was PRAYING actually

lila💚 @kasdanrights · 23m OOMF YOU SHOULD CHECK LINA'S STORY 😭😭😭 ↳ li(n)a @meliabelrose · 19m I ACTUALLY CAN'T WITH THIS UNSERIOUS WOMAN

INSTAGRAM

selinabui just posted to their story

TWITTER

MANIFESTED OSCALINA | LONDON N3 @12m0red4ys · 3m THAT'S SUCH A DEEPCUT TWEET ADFJSDF is she stalking me or smth AND THAT FUCKASS FONT PLS LINA I BEG YOU TO USE ANOTHER FONT and she tagged his ass as well ↳ abby <3 @devilvows · 3m thanks bestie we finally got the rest of the bday shoot bc of u 🫶

pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 12m ok i see the vision, she is the vision, wtf is in the zhou genes? modelling? ↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 11m oscar, pookie, i think she's a bit out of ur league but good luck? ↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 7m i heard her sing, she's definitely out of ur league, i'm rebranding

liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 1h do you think lina saw the comments under that tweet bc if so 😭 ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 1h this four-reply run SENDS me every time

↳ june @linafesting · 54m what was the context of this time period why are the comments so scattered? (new linami here) ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 49m i think this was around the time t*mmy got engaged and the paps were hounding lina and everyone was telling her to fight back (get a bf)

INSTAGRAM

emptybottlos

liked by zhouguanyu24 and 9,421 others

emptybottlos THE only cousins to ever cousin tagged: selinabui and zhouguanyu24

selinabui DELETE PLS I DIDN'T NEED TO SEE THIS ↳ selinabui @ selinabui I PROMISE I'LL BE GOOD JUST PLS DELETE THIS I HATE THIS SO MUCH

zhouguanyu24 😂😂😂

selinabui

liked by lukaszhang, oscarpiastri and 118,023 others

selinabui the desperate image reversal post

stakef1team Kick Sauber green 💚 ↳ selinabui @stakef1team absolutely not but ok bestie stay delulu

pi4str1 oscar in the likes 😭 buddy ur supposed to be getting ready for qualifying???

pastry81 is lina gonna be at the race??? ↳ mickeyko @ pastry81 no :( the whole band flew out to jakarta this morning for the asian leg of the tour

TWITTER

↳ kay ♡ @ blackcatluna · 4h ok guys this has exited my little circle - just to clarify THIS IS A JOKE I'M NOT A KASLINA TRUTHER !!!

↳ kaslina on my mind ☁️ @kaslinatruther · 5h look at my babies 🥹

↳ oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 4h IJBOL ARIANA (kaslina) WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE???

↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 4h certainties of the world: sun rising from east, kaslina resurgence every time one of them has a dating rumour ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 4h LEAVE MY TWIN GUITARS ALONE ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 4h and it's always when it's a DATING rumour, never when they break up

↳ emme @flowersforcami · 4h every baby empty bottles fan goes thru a massive kaslina phase after seeing them live i can't even blame anyone 🥸 ↳ piaa⁸¹ @papayaeightyone · 3h hi there, oscar fan, so what exactly is going on with lukas (?) and lina? ↳ emme @flowersforcami · 3h absolutely nothing, they grew up as neighbours who just have pretty spectacular tension on stage but this is them irl: youtube.com/watch?v=....

INSTAGRAM

oscarpiastri

liked by selinabui and 76,295 others

oscarpiastri Post qualifying, pretty happy with the effort 💪

emptybottlesbar 🔥🔥🔥 ↳ oliviafufu @emptybottlesbar admin are you doing ok there?

landonorris P6 verrrry nice ↳ oscarpiastri @ landonorris P4 verrrrrrry nice :)

izzy.piastri LET'S GAURRRRRR

amelia_belrose he's on the exact opposite side of the spectrum dfjnskjd i can't believe we're getting calm bf x hyper gf

amelia_belrose mr piastri, just curiously, what exactly do you see in our lina?

pastry81 oscar went ok hard launch over, back to regularly scheduled content (papaya)

selinabui

liked by zhouguanyu24 and 98,834 others

selinabui *sigh* kick sauber green 💚

pi4str1 SHE'S SO DEEPLY UNSERIOUS THE PAPAYA #1 VAN 😭😭😭 ↳ pastry81 @pi4str1 i love her so much she's just soooooo

zhouguanyu24 🤨 ↳ selinabui @ zhouguanyu24 爱你爱你 🫂🫂

landonorris Love where your loyalties lie #teampapaya

stakef1team We'll take it 💚💚💚

lukaszhang YO WHO'S DOG IS THAT???

courtneysong16 convinced she saw a random orange van and said “wait let me serve first”

emptybottlesbar

liked by cameliazzz and 108,274 others

emptybottlesbar The two people currently breaking the internet (who look pretty proud of themselves) tagged: selinabui, oscarpiastri, emptybottles_official and mclaren

eb_jonno WHICH ADMIN IS THIS, LET ME SEND YOU FLOWERS OR SMTH

lukaszhang not the 'held at gunpoint' reaction pic AHAHA

cameliazzz admin... sara is that you???

aidan_ebass 👍 ↳ selinabui @aidan_ebass you remembered your login??? ↳ lottie2418 @aidan_ebass omg grandpa hi hi

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit

#f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x oc #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri smau #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 smau #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 social media au

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matchalovertrait · 2 months ago

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24 screenshots of 2024! ✮⋆˙

Thank you for the tag @itmeansiris, @cakepoppresent, @euphiesims, @rosienthe, @simscici, @smulie, @living-undead, and @elderwisp!! 💗

January

Infant Dulce!!!! Aw how precious 😭 I love her little pigtails and look in her eyes. She looks a lot like her dad here lol.

One of Generation One's requirements in the Joy of Life Challenge is to "Throw the best parties for your child(ren), full of yummy cakes and treats!" and this was the very first of many cute parties :) Ángel's 5th birthday. I was still very new to the Sims 4 and I felt pretty proud of myself.

February

MY FOUR BABIES 😭😭😭😭 I love them with all my heart.

This took soooooo much work as a beginner omg!! I thought it was just okay but it got a lot of love :o

Ángel, Esperanza, Dulce, Guillermo, and Matthew as kids! I had no clue what the future held for them lol. Look at all of them appearing so cute and innocent 😆

March

An ofrenda for in-game Día de Los Muertos. It turned out pretty decent. That's a picture of Noemí's mom, Ynez.

Again, I don't know what possessed me to do a Diced Junior arc 😂 Besides the lighting and ugly text, I'm really proud of it. So no, I will never stop mentioning it.

April

A lil too much text 😅 but I liked showing the personalities of Dulce's cousins more here. Fun fact: It may not seem like it but Guillermo has the genius trait. A handful of his lines in this legacy insinuates that lol.

This was right after Dulce posted the Alto exposé video. I like how I showed a few different opinions from the comment section of her video. Also, it's a little ironic that she would meet a somewhat familiar fate due to Caruso's video about her 😅 hehehe.

May

My free-spirited Dulce 💓 maybe one of her future kids can become a basketball star, hmm.

Ynez and Infant Noemí <3 Translation: It’s just the two of us, but that doesn’t matter. I’m going to put in A LOT of effort to give you a good life. Hopefully, you grow up to be a person who is very kind, strong, and noble. And she did grow up to be like that :)

June

I'm not religious but Noemí practices catholicism. That's the main religion in Mexico, where she is from! Ngl I think I have religious trauma, but I can recognize when people have good intentions when they pray over you. I kinda like it, shows they care. ...Not in the Southern way when people say "Bless your heart" when they don't mean it like that. Context matters 😂

Bruh, Dulce 💀 Also, I will admit that Caruso looks kind of cute here 😂 I see why some of you fell for him. But that was part of my elaborate plan 😈

July

Okay, the first Lizaxi Legacy post went pretty hard. I'm pleasantly surprised about that LOL! We have some good lines, interesting characters, and decent shots!

Part of Mimli and Smeagie's house :> you'll find cacti, aliens, and stars throughout the home.

August

I LOVE the post that this came from 😂 This save was a lot of fun, I need to revisit it.

My Pierrot clown!!!! One of my favorite posts of this year!! I'm so proud of it :> Her outfit, her makeup, the long sorta-side bangs, the balloons, the fog, her facial expression. Love it.

September

Uh oh, Erick met Caruso and he was NOT having it 😅 Erick is such a kind guy too.

The big move to Del Sol Valley!!! Remember when we thought she was moving to Scotland? 🤔 Anyway, Dulce looks so pretty here! I love the palm trees in the back.

October

I reallllyyyyyyyy like the colors of Dulce's office and how I decorated it :>

Dulce's disguise 😂 man I love turning the ideas in my head into reality. Even if it's all pixels.

LMAO this is so funny and unserious to me 😭😭 Why is bro showing off his body, tattoos, AND jawline in the office??? We're supposed to be having a serious convo here, hellllppppp

November

Okay, this is pretty cool. Now that I look at it, that definitely looks like a supervillain house. I also like the fonts that I used and how you can see that the party is about to begin.

Dulce showing off her knowledge from secret agent movies! She's so silly hehe

#what a year!#if i usually tag you in things please assume that you're tagged for this too!!#i was offline for a few days and idk who's done this or not #tag game #tw clowns #clowns tw

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curtsycream · 1 year ago

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Baxter Radic Blurb

Finally finished season two of surviving summer and I love Bax’s character. He also deserved better so I’m giving him better. I’m giving him you babes <3

“How about that one?”

Looking down at his hand he looked over the tattoo she was pointing at. The slim reddish pink lollipop tattoo with small font along the white stick. Smiling at her he shook his head, “it’s just something small…I’ve always had it.”

Her eyes narrowed as she shook her head in return. “You didn’t have it before you left Queensland.”

Baxter bit back the chance to tease her for being so observant with his body. He held back as he tried to think about something to say to distract her. Nothing came to mind and he knew she wouldn’t buy into a lie.

“It’s new, got it my first week here,” he finally admitted to her.

The Queensland surfer smiled at him, “I’m loving this honesty streak. I’m guessing that Summer girl really got through to you, huh?”

“It wasn’t Summer,” he mumbled.

She craned her head back to look up at him in her seated position. “Then—then who? Or what? You’ve never been so open before,” she trailed off.

“Maybe, I don’t need to explain myself.”

She frowned grabbing his hand, “don’t do that. You always pull back when things feel tough for you. I’m sick of it, why can’t you just tell me the reason? Are you worried I’ll laugh or something? You know me better than—“

“It’s not that!” He exclaimed looking down at her. Running his free hand through his pink hair he shakes his head. “I know you wouldn’t do that, you’re too nice for that. Too nice for me,” he whispered.

“Don’t say that, you’re an amazing guy Bax…not many are like you. You don’t have to tell me about the tattoo just please don’t shut me out. It’s like ever since you moved to Shorehaven you’ve been reluctant to even message me.”

The way in which she was pouring her heart out to him left a sour taste in his mouth. Sitting beside him was the girl he grew to like quite a lot before having to leave. Tweaking his ear with his fingers he looks anywhere but at her. “I—it’s not your fault. I just thought if I avoided you it would make things easier.”

“Make what easier?”

“The fact that I like you and even if I were to tell you I’d find a way to fuck it up like I do everything else.”

The confession made the air around them feel heavy. It wasn’t like him to openly admit his feelings. But then again he had changed since moving away from Queensland. “Bax. Actually listen to me, I want you to know that what happened wasn’t your fault. You were drunk, we were all raging and someone dared you to do it. What you did wasn’t the reason you all had to leave, you know this. I don’t blame you and neither do the others. You’re a great guy,” she spoke calmly as she still held onto his hand.

Looking at her he let out a sigh, “I know that but it still feels like I had a part to play. Even if it wasn’t my fault I still fucked up. The second I got here I messed things up for my new team. I just think I’m causing myself problems.”

“You only think that because you’re so used to taking the blame. I promise you, you’re not at fault and it may take you a while to believe that. But trust me I’ll never blame you for things I know you didn’t mean to do.”

Leaning forward slightly his forehead rests against hers. His bright blue eyes searching her eyes for a hint of falsity. He found none but still he inquired, “promise?”

Raising his pinky he holds it out for her, keeping her forehead to his she locks hers around his. “I promise.”

Moving away from her he smiles keeping his pinky hooked with hers.

“Oh and Bax, I like you.”

#x reader #fluff #surviving summer #baxter radic #Baxter x reader #bax x reader #Baxter Radic x reader #Baxter Blurb #netflix original

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astermath · 2 years ago

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nemesis; part two.

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: with carmen reworking the restaurant, you’d think his mind would be far too occupied to even think about anything else. yet he can’t shake the guilt from what he’d put you through a month prior. after some talks in therapy, he decides to take a leap of faith and see if he can talk it out with you. he not only wants to convince you that he can be better, but he's got an offer for you too. one you truly can't refuse.

♡ landing page ♡

word count: 4.9K

tags: carmen being unsure about his feelings but trying to be better episode 3265742, letting reader in a little more, APOLOGIES!!!, cursing ig, carm goes to therapy yippee, syd being the absolute realest, regular font below!

notes: sorry this took literally forever omg, I lost my carmen muse for a bit but we are SO back baby. I missed him so much and so sorry if some things don't follow the canon completely (I've been watching season 2 on and off bc I've been so busy lol BUT my fics never follow the canon completely anyways),, hope u guys enjoy and let me know if you'd like a part three ;))

lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Carmen’s life hadn’t known a moment of mental rest in ages. If you asked him when he last sat down with his thoughts or acknowledged his mental anguish, he probably would have said he couldn’t remember the last time. If ever.

With plans to completely revamp The Beef and everything that came with it, now his feelings should be the last thing on his mind. Renovation plans, unforeseen costs and a completely new menu, sure, he could worry his ass off about those, but feelings? Absolutely not. Good thing he was usually so good at suppressing those anyways.

So why was it that he couldn’t shake the thought of what he did to you?

Why, every time he had a moment to himself, would he be overtaken by this intense feeling of guilt? He didn’t even have to be alone, just a second of quiet and the image of you crying in distress would intrude on his thoughts.

It was getting to a point where he’d told his sister, Natalie, about it. Well, not all of it, he wasn’t even sure if he knew all of it. Just that he knows he hurt you, and that coming to terms with what he projected onto you might be a good first step in understanding himself better.

Or maybe it was something more along the lines of “I gotta talk my shit to some people”. Probably that.

To his surprise, it was actually helping. Besides the group therapy sessions where he’d talk about Mikey, the business and his future, he was talking to other people in his life too. Even told Sydney about you, kind of on accident. The words just seemed to… Flow out. It was probably the exhaustion doing its thing.

“I guess I just felt like,” he kept his eyes on the floor he was sweeping, “she was doing it all to fuck with me. I don’t even know where I got the sick idea that she had some obsession over me, but it— it drove me at the same time. It’s like her being on my heels at every aspect of culinary school just made me want to try even harder.”

“Maybe you painted her in that light because you knew it was a good way to keep pushing yourself.” Sydney spoke almost absentmindedly, sweeping the other side of the room. She listened to everything he said in the meantime, and though what he was telling her was a bit worrying, she was glad they got to have talks like this. Carmen often doesn’t like to bring up his past like that.

“Huh,” he paused sweeping for a moment, “yeah… yeah, maybe. Or maybe it was something else.”

Sydney wasn’t even sure he knew what he was referring to. It sounded like something entirely different, like a crush, but what kind of person treats their crushes like that?

Probably an overworked, pressured, overachieving culinary student with a dangerous need for validation. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“So yeah, I visited her restaurant, and… It just felt the exact same as back in New York, you know? Like she was rubbing it in my face again, and— and I know that sounds insane, or conceited, but I just can’t let it go. It’s like the thought of her is stuck to my brain like a stubborn piece of gum.” He wanted to smack himself for that stupid analogy, but what was said was said.

“So how’d you handle it?” Sydney’s head perked up, some of her braids now draping over her shoulders.

“Handle what?” Carmen became more and more uneasy the more he talked about you. Like his chest was tight, it was uncomfortable, but not in the way he was when the health inspection came by, it was different. Weirder. Unfamiliar. He didn’t like it, because he didn’t understand it.

“The talk with her.” She emptied the last bit of dust into the trash bag.

“Oh,” his mind took him back to the parking lot a month ago. The way he could almost taste the tears of your skin from how close he stood, he could hear the shakiness of your breath and the profound desperation in your voice when you apologized to him, when you really had no reason to.

If it was still so clear in his mind, then what must it be like for you?

“Carmen?” Sydney snapped him out of his oncoming train of thought.

“Yeah? Sorry, I— Uh, I don’t know it was…” He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly finding it in his best interest to look anywhere else but her face. “Bad. It was— It was bad.” He looks a bit shameful when he meets her eyes. “I fucked up. I like, went all New York boss on her. And then I just… Left.”

His colleague just stares at him for a moment. She knew what he was like when he snapped like that, but that was with his staff, people he liked. So how badly did he snap on you, a person he’d been resenting for years?

“I’m gonna go take out this trash, and uh… Head home.” She lifts the grey plastic bag she was holding. “But uh, Carm?”

“Yeah?”

“You got issues, man.” She has a bit of an awkward smile on her face, but he knows she means it. He knows she’s right. She usually is.

He nods, silently, letting her words sink in. He did have issues, everyone knew that, but most people didn’t just say it. That’s why he liked Sydney, she was so real, so honest. She was so good for the business, for the kitchen. And maybe her saying that to him was all part of grounding him in the reality of it all. Of his issues, just that they existed.

“Heard.” he says. His voice comes out raspier than he expected, like he’s struggling to say it.

“Goodnight, chef.”

“Night.”

He’d thought about what Sydney said the entire night. He does have issues, he knows that, he’s just mad at himself for letting everything get this far before seeking help. It scares him. Because it reminds him too much of Mikey. Or what he heard about him when things got bad.

He doesn’t want to make the same mistakes his brother did. Lock people out of his life just because it seems easier, because it’s better to minimize the damage than to figure out why you’re doing damage at all. And yes it’s uncomfortable, yes it’s scary, terrifying even. But he keeps being reminded of how it must feel for you.

It’s something he’d never considered before. He always thought he had you all figured out, all fake smiles and backhanded compliments to distract him. It never occurred to him to just… Ask. It was always just easier to assume. It fit his view of you and it kept him going, even if it was at the expense of ever getting to know you at all.

He’s hoping he can change that with a few text messages and a long, probably uncomfortable, talk over coffee. Just hoping, trying, that’s really all he can do. He’s well aware of how bad he is at communicating, but he has to give it a shot. For you, at least.

He stares at his phone screen for far longer than is necessary, continuously rereading the messages he’d typed. His eyes keep flicking to your contact, making sure he sent it to the right person. The only thing you two had texted about before was a time and place for him to try your new restaurant. His heart aches at the exclamation points and emojis you’d sent; you were so excited, and he drove all that excitement straight into the ground.

He closes his eyes and shuts off the phone. His chest hurts, like he’s been holding his breath the entire time. Maybe he has. You could have that effect on him, making it harder to breathe. He always wondered why he had such nervous reactions around you specifically. He always figured it had to do with your one sided rivalry, but it feels… Different. More complex.

Your eyes are finally peeled off your computer screen when numerous phone notifications alarm you. Truth be told, you’ve been trying your best to keep yourself occupied as much as possible. That usually helps when you get waves of emotions like this, keeping busy, distracting your mind from overthinking.

Ever since your last encounter with Carmen, you’ve been so on edge. Always trying to do something, anything, so you wouldn’t have to think about what happened, why he acted like that to you. Because you know if you did, you’d just start blaming yourself again, and you’d be back to square one.

Your eyebrows raise at the name of the contact. You were sure he’d blocked you, or at least deleted your number after last time. He was avoidant like that, and frankly, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to talk to you again after that anyways. Maybe it was just to drive the point home, make you feel even more worthless.

Still, you were curious. Even if it was just to cuss you out even more, at least you knew what to expect, right?

[carmen]: hey, I really want to talk to you about what happened last time.

[carmen]: well

[carmen]: I want to apologise

[carmen]: but I can’t do that like this

[carmen]: I’d much rather do it in person

[carmen]: if you’d let me

[carmen]: meet me at odette’s tomorrow around 10? coffee’s on me, I just want to talk

[carmen]: please

The last message was sent minutes later than the rest, while you were reading them. He was desperate for an answer, and though you wanted to hear him out, to talk to him, something in you felt off about the whole thing. Like he was just doing this to clear off his own guilt, only to then ditch you just like he ditched you after culinary school. Because you’re rivals, apparently. That’s what you do.

But then there’s something else in you too. The part that’s still nostalgic about New York with him. About the glances back and forth when you were timed on preparing certain things, about the way he’d stare at you when you got feedback, the ignorant bliss you lived in. When you still believed he might have liked you just a little.

That part of you takes the upper hand when you reply and take his offer. Your heart is in your throat, nerves overtaking you already and you weren’t even with him yet. He had that effect on you sometimes, making it harder to breathe.

You wondered what that meant.

Carmen sits alone at a booth, all the way at the back of the café he’d chosen. It’s rather quiet, as most Mondays are, yet at the same time, it’s so loud. Loud in the way he hears the clinking of every spoon against porcelain cups, the crinkling of a napkin and the not so subtle ticking of the clock above the entrance. 10:06. You were late.

Suddenly he's filled with more regret than he's ever felt before. He's not ready to see you again, only to be reminded of how he made you cry, and of his own tumultuous emotions and shortcomings that lead to this moment. It's surprising how fast the emotions he associates with you changed; he's not angry anymore, he's scared, guilty, nervous. He wants to see you so bad and yet he feels like you'd be better off never talking to him again.

It's too late to make a run for it when you finally walk through the door. Hair a little damp from the rain, just a bit disheveled from what he could only assume to be rushing over to the café. And that same angelic smile you offer to the barista that greets you, the same one you'd offer him every morning, whether he looked at you or not.

He had no choice but to look now.

Your smile falters into something more nervous, a little melancholic, when your eyes meet his across the café. Though you knew he was going to be there, something in you feels surprised to see him again. Maybe it’s because he isn’t yelling at you or throwing insults at your head this time. Or maybe because he’s actually looking you in the eye. Since when did he get so good at that?

You sit down across him, taking off your coat and putting your bag besides you.

“Hey.” You smile again, much more awkward this time.

“Hey.” He returns the same thin lipped smile.

It’s quiet for a few seconds. Carmen swears the whole café has gone silent in that moment, leaving the two of you to listen to the sound of your own breathing and heartrate picking up. You’re not sure where to look, not being used to being in such an intimate setting with him.

“Do you want a coffee?”

“Sorry I was late.”

You both talk over each other, and the urge to chuckle about it overtakes you. Carmen can’t help but smile as well. You seem nervous, and somehow that puts him a little more at ease. Like he’s not the only one who’s in their head about it.

“Sorry, I, uhm, yeah— I would like a coffee.” You scramble over your words. “Please.”

“Sure,” he nods, “and no worries.”

“Hm?”

“That you were late. I haven’t been here that long either.” He lied. He’d been there half an hour early, cursing himself for letting him sit along with his thoughts for that long and psyching himself out into almost leaving.

You both order and another heavy silence sits between you two. You both know why you’re there, what needs to be talked about. Yet neither of you know how to bring it up.

You’ve lived most of your lives believing this version of each other you had in your minds. Because it kept you grounded. Because it was easier. He never let you in and for the longest time, you were at peace with that. You could have a slightly distant view of who he was, your classmate, your rival. And he could do the same. Keep you out, pretend you were there to keep him on his toes, to always try to outdo him.

Those facades of each other don’t work anymore. The real world has forced you to reconcile with each other, whether you liked it or not.

Your coffee gets brought to your table, and both of you feel this urgency to say something, anything, at least.

“The pastries here are good too, if you want to get one.” He finally broke the awkward silence. He can start with talking about food, something he knows. If all else fails, resort back to that.

“I haven’t tried a pastry besides my own in a long time. Maybe I could learn a thing or two here.” You admit. He knows that feeling. He’s not nearly as adventurous with his food choices as he wants to be, but as a busy chef on the brink of a new entrepreneurship, it’s usually beef sandwiches and frozen meals.

“I think yours were better though.” He takes a sip of his coffee.

“Huh?” You look up, realizing you were avoiding eye contact by staring into your cup.

“The danish I tried at your place. It was fire.”

“Oh. Right. Thank you, we make everything from scratch.”

“I could tell.” He takes another sip. “I guess I— I kinda forgot to tell you that. In the heat of it all.” He huffs to himself. “Food was so good it made me upset.”

“Upset?” His word use frustrates you. Upset is when they forget to give you your sauce with your order. What happened back there was not upset. That was rage. Wrath. You raise an eyebrow and he realizes he said something wrong.

“Well, more than upset. Listen, I— We need to talk about what happened.” His blue eyes peer into your own. They’re almost distracting enough to avoid you noticing his fidgeting hands.

“I’m listening.” You lean back slightly in your seat. You’d played nice with Carmen all your life, given him every chance to return it. Now it was his turn to try.

"Right." Of course he has to talk. It's his fault, isn't it? He's the one who snapped-- why did he even imply you'd have to explain yourself? He runs a hand through his hair, and there he goes again, eyes darting across the café to find something to focus on as he sought out the right words. You'd almost find it endearing, how bad he is at this, if it wasn't so important to you.

"You don't do this often, do you?"

"What, like-- meeting up for coffee?"

"Talking about stuff. Your feelings and shit." You hid your slightly amused smile behind your coffee cup before taking a small sip.

"Oh. Yeah, no, I-- I don't. Not until recently." He takes a deep breath. Just like they had told him to. “I’ve been going to this therapy thing my sister recommended. S’not much, but… It’s a start. Talked about the restaurant, my brother—“

“Your brother?” Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Yeah, my— my brother. Mikey.” He looks a bit surprised. He’s come to the shattering realization that he’s never told you anything about his personal life, ever. You don’t even know about one of the most important people in his life, his main drive. You’ve known each other for so long yet you know so little. “I never told you about him?”

“You never told me anything.” You answer curtly. “We never really… Talked, you know?”

“Yeah— yeah, you’re right. I just thought… Wow.” He smiles, more out of shock than anything. He feels so stupid. How immature is it to be feuding this much with a person who doesn’t know anything about you?

“I guess I really don’t know much about you either.” His fingers rake through his messy curls again. “Makes me feel like even more of an idiot for going off on you like that. Like I had you all figured out.”

“Yeah, that was uh... That was something." The mood shifts a little. His smile fades as soon as he sees the melancholy in your eyes return. Of course it wouldn't be that easy for you to forgive him, to feel better about all this. "You know, I never knew you thought of me like that." A small smile graces your features. Somehow it's sadder than the expression you had before.

"I mean, I knew you didn't like me. I was pretty much at peace with the fact that you were never going to like me, either. But I never thought you hated me that much." You sniffle, trying your hardest to blink away any oncoming tears. "Like your life, your entire career, would have been easier without me there at all."

His heart aches at the sight of you, all teary eyed and trying to be brave. You're much braver than him. Sadness is a much harder thing to express than anger. He's starting to figure that out more and more.

"I don't hate you." He starts. He sees the confusion contort your features, and he knows he's not making any sense. "I mean I did-- I did hate you. Or, maybe not you, just... The fucked up idea I had of you. And-- and that was on me, that was my own fault." He feels an urge to touch you; to rub your back, hold your hand, anything to comfort you. It's tearing him apart to know that he's the cause of all this.

"But why?" A single tear rolls down your cheek, leaving a wet streak on your skin in its wake. "Why did you think that about me? I-- I get that we had a little rivalry going but jesus Carmen, did you really think I spent my whole culinary school career trying to outdo you?"

"To be honest... Yeah." He feels ashamed. So ashamed. He hopes the waitress doesn't walk by and listen to any of this, see you crying, and make you feel even worse. "Cooking was always just... My thing. If I was good for anything, it would be that. So seeing you do so well at something I'd started to base my whole existence around, it made me jealous, so fucking jealous." He meets your eyes, even if it's hard. You have to know he's being sincere.

"And it's-- it's unfair, it's so unfair to you, I know, and I'm really fuckin' sorry. I'm trying to work on myself, on everything, and I hope I can prove that to you." His face has that red tint you recognize whenever he's nervous or stressed. You can tell this is taking a lot from him.

"Is that really all? You were just jealous?" Your voice is quieter, fragile almost.

"I don't know. I wanna think it's that simple but I really don't know. There's a lot I don't understand about me, or you, or us. My mind doesn't know how to react when I see you anymore I think, now that things are different." He takes a deep breath, like saying that took a physical toll on him. "You have this-- this weird effect on me, and I don't know how to cope with it. I think it was just easier to be mad at you than to be anything else."

Anger is easier to express than sadness. The easiest out of all emotions, actually. Sometimes a little too easy.

You look to the side, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. You huff out something close to a laugh, and though he’s caught off guard by it, he doesn’t mind it. Even if you’re laughing at him, at least that means you’re not crying.

“You’ve got issues Berzatto. You know that?”

“Yeah. I’ve been told.” He smiles, and it’s heartfelt this time. Not nervous, or sad, or awkward. He’s happy to see you a little more at ease.

“It’s just really crazy to me.” You trace your finger over the edge of your coffee cup as you talk. “I spent so much time in culinary school looking up to you. And then I find out you were always just trying to keep up with me.”

Carmen’s eyebrows raise a little at your words. “Looked up to me?”

“Yeah, like… Your drive, your passion, it’s so impressive. Always looking to improve, to do better, it just— it inspired me to do better too. As cheesy as that may sound.” You smiled. “S’why I opened up in Chicago, you know.”

“Really? Huh.” He leaned back in his seat.

“Because I wanted to work with you. Or for you. Either would have been fine with me.” You sigh. “I like owning my own place, but… I don’t know, for some reason I always imagined us working together.” You smiled. “Is that stupid?”

“No,” he replied quickly, “no not at all, I— I totally get that.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head when he stares at you for a moment.

“I mean you’re a remarkable chef, really, like— insanely remarkable, and, well, we’re revamping the restaurant completely right now. We need people— more people, new people, and so, I was wondering— or I’ve been thinking—“ He stops himself from losing his breath from all his rambling, before he freaks you out even more than he already has.

“I want you to come work for us at the Bear.” He puts his hands together, as if he’s about to beg. “Please.”

You can almost hear yourself blinking out of confusion. There’s suddenly no more loud silences, no, the café seems dead quiet for once. All you can do is stare at him, wait for a laugh, because clearly this was a joke right? There’s no way Carmen Berzatto, chef supreme, arch nemesis of yours, would want you anywhere near him, let alone work in his own establishment.

“I’m sorry?”

He feels stupid already. You had every reason to say no. He’d been the biggest asshole in the world to you, he’d kept his distance all his life, and now he expects you to be his employee. Or, well, colleague, more so.

“I’m uh— we’re redoing the restaurant entirely. New equipment, new staff, new everything.” He swallows; the thought of everything that needed to be done arises for a moment. “We need people that work hard, who know what they’re doing and who are passionate about it. And I barely know anyone who’s better at what you do than yourself.” He pauses, waiting for you to stop him. But you don’t.

“So I’m asking if you’d work for me. With me. It won’t be anything like old days, if anything I— I need to learn from you.” He scoffs at himself. “Could take a thing or two about how to communicate with my staff.”

You smile, and he genuinely thinks you’re about to start laughing at him. You chuckle, but it’s not mean, it’s honest. Cute.

“You know, you have great timing.” You grin.

“I do?” the smile on his face reflects the hope he feels.

“One of my chefs wants to take over the place for me. Well, has been wanting to. I haven’t had an exact reason to say yes to her yet.” You shrugged. “Guess I do now.”

“…Is that you saying yes?”

“It’s definitely not me saying no.” Your eyes meet his, and there’s something between you both that’s different now. It’s not like there’s a switch that’s been flipped. It‘s more like this conversation was the turning page of a new chapter.

“I’ll think about it. I want to see it first. Maybe talk to some of your staff.” Carmen’s chest strains a little when he thinks about you interacting with Richie. Then he’s reassured when he thinks about you interacting with Sydney or Marcus. You’d fit in well, you have great feeling for people.

“Yeah— yeah, I get that. Totally. I can arrange that. Uhm, we’re renovating right now, actually, it’s all really kinda wild, but if you wanna stop by, chat with Syd, or Nat, or talk about the plans, let me know. I’m sure they’d love to talk to you.” He’s not lying, you seem like you’d get along well with them. Especially Sydney. Your thinking processes are very similar to each other. And to his.

Carmen gets the bill, even though you try to pay for it.

“It’s just a coffee, just let me get this one.”

You let him have this one, simply because you can’t argue with him after the conversation you just had. You’re in too good of a mood after his proposition too.

He walks you to your car, hands in his pockets when you reach it. It’s cold outside, and his breath comes out in visible puffs of air. His nose is a little red, but you think it looks cute.

“Thanks for coming, by the way,” he starts, “I know you didn’t have to. Like— after how I acted to you. But— But I really do appreciate that you’re givin' me a chance here.” He’d always been confused about how positive and faithful you were in people. He never thought he’d be grateful for those exact features too.

“No worries, I… I had a good time. I’m glad we talked.” The keys jingle as you fidget with them. Among them is a keychain in the shape of a cherry, he recognizes it. It reminds him of how little you’ve both changed. And how much.

“Yeah.” He sighs. Relieved, almost. “Me too. But I’ll let you leave, might wanna tell your chef the good news.”

“Good news?” You quirk an eyebrow.

“That you’re selling them the business.”

“I haven’t decided yet, Carm.” You scoff. But he can tell you have, you look too excited about it all to not have your mind made up yet. It excites him too. Scares him a bit as well, but what’s a new chapter without a bit of tension?

“Right. Sorry.” He huffs. “Just text me when you wanna head over to see the place. It’s uh… It’s a work in progress, but it’s getting somewhere.”

“I believe you. I’m looking forward to it.” You lean back against your car a little.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“See y’around?” You unlock it and walk up to the driver’s side.

“Course. Uh, don’t be a stranger.”

You grin, leaning down to get into the vehicle. “Never with you, Berzatto.”

He watches you drive off, standing in the cold for far longer than any sensible person has any business standing there. But he feels good. He feels warm.

He thinks about what you said to him before you left. You were right, you were never a stranger to him. You were always like a constant in his life; whether you were actually present or not. And even if he didn’t know that much about you, which he was insistent on changing, you were never a stranger.

Never with him.

tag list <3

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#carmenmath #aster writes the bear #carmen berzatto writing #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto the bear #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto blurb #carmen berzatto x y/n #jeremy allen white imagine #jeremy allen white fic #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto the bear fx

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whiskey-tango-matcha · 10 months ago

Text

Chatterbox (M, cold, 'drabble')

A little prompt-based fluff for you guys :) Reed and Greyson go out to dinner, but Reed realizes something is up when Greyson won't shut tf up lol. I'm loving writing this relationship, I can't lie, so sorry if it's too much Reed and Greyson lately - I'll get back to my other guys soon!

1.6K words (just a tiny lil blip of a story haha) CW: Male snz, coughing, fever, contagion mention. Hope you like it :)

Chatterbox

Reed looked down at his phone as he waited on Greyson, rereading the stream-of-consciousness texts his boyfriend had sent throughout the day.

Greyson

1:42PM

sooo pumped for tonight bb :)

1:56PM

should I wear a suit…? I know it’s a new spot but the website definitely reads ‘fine dining’, like fine-er than most of my clothes know how to be...

2:24PM

I think I’ll do dark jeans & a black button up. johnny cash style. cant go wrong w that. hahah.

3:17PM

I know ur working still but im just really excited to see you:):)

It was cute – borderline adorable – how nervous Greyson seemed for their dates, even after almost a year of the two of them being together. Reed had, of course, answered Greyson’s plethora texts throughout the day, but had tried to keep himself subdued so he wouldn’t give away his hand; tonight, he was going to ask Greyson to move in with him.

He knew it was a bit of a long time coming, but Reed was really trying to keep from scaring Greyson off by doing anything too quickly. His boyfriend certainly had a bit of past-relationship trauma that Reed tried valiantly to navigate; it was hard to figure out what the right time to do anything was. Sometimes, he wasn’t sure there was ever going to be a right time to push their relationship to the next level. But things had been good lately; like, really good. Tonight felt… right.

Greyson’s presence was palpable before Reed even saw him blow through the door. He looked up from his phone and clocked his boyfriend, standing out side the restaurant with his elbow locked over his face; Reed cocked his head a bit, confused. Was he… coughing?

The chef, clad in the Johnny-Cash-getup he’d promised, shook himself out before pushing the door to the restaurant open. He pawed at his nose with the back of his hand while asking the hostess to point Reed out – she gestured towards their table, and Greyson smiled when the two of them locked eyes. Reed waved, smiling back. Something was certainly… off.

“Sorry I’m late, baby,” Greyson said, kissing the top of Reed’s head before sitting across from him. “The fuckin’ train was running late again.”

“I’ve told you a million times I’ll come pick you up for dates,” Reed said, squeezing Greyson’s hand across the table. “You don’t always have to take the train.”

Greyson shrugged, smiled a little loopily. “I like the train,” he said, picking up his menu and squinting at the small font. “Lots of time to think. I’ve come up with my best dishes on the subway, I’m pretty sure; you remember that tart I made for the writer’s dinner, the one where we saw each other for the second time? Came up with that on the train. I was sitting next to this girl, probably a student, and she was eating one of those little egg tarts, the ones from the Japanese bakeries? I thought, damn I bet a root vegetable in one of those would fuckin’ slay – spoiler alert, it so did. Where would I have come up with that if not for the train? Plus, it’s one of the most sustainable ways to travel. I get my good karma for not actively killing the environment in. Win-win. What’re we eat – HTSHH! NXTSHH!” Greyson’s explosion of word vomit was very suddenly cut off to stifle two painful-sounding sneezes into the back of his hand.

Reed blinked for what was maybe the first time since his boyfriend sat down. “...bless,” he said after a beat. Greyson nodded, sniffled a little, and picked the menu back up.

“What’s this place’s thing anyway?” Greyson continued, flipping the menu over to look at drinks. “I can’t seem to figure it out; are they Italian? Mediterranean? Fine dining? Just high-end? No tasting menu, but prices are high enough to warrant one. Wine list reads very Italian, but there are like three dishes with hummus on them? I’m half-expecting to be served babaganoush bolognese. Which… maybe would work? Actually, eggplant, tomato sauce… I could see it working. You never know. Can’t judge a book by its menu, right? What’re you drinking? Want to get a bot -?”

This second monologue was cut short when Reed reached across the table to place a gentle hand on Greyson’s face. Just as he expected: hot.

“Babe,” Reed said gently, taking his hand back, “you’re burning up.”

The chef cast his glance down, embarrassed. “You weren’t supposed to figure that out till after dinner,” he muttered. Reed laughed.

“Seriously? You had to know I’d figure something was up. You’ve been monologing since the moment you sat down. Have you been sick all day? You should’ve told me, honey. How much cough medicine did you take before you showed up here?”

Greyson looked up at Reed and gave him a little half-smile. “Pretty sure I downed half a bottle of Robutusssin, not gonna liiii – hh! HhNXTSHH-ue! Huh-TSHH-ue!” Once again, Greyson attempted to stifle, to no avail. He allowed himself two painful little coughs before righting himself again.

“Bless you,” Reed said again. “I wish you would just sneeze normal, that always sounds so painful.”

“We’re in a restaurant,” Greyson said, a huskiness beginning to creep in to his voice. “That’s so gross.”

Reed rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. Who cares? No one’s looking at us. They’re too busy with their many, many hummuses.”

A laugh bubbled out of Greyson, and with it came a flurry of congested coughs he directed into the sleeve of his shirt. “Don’t mbake me laugh,” he muttered, taking a drink of water. “You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

“Good,” Reed said, flagging the waiter. “I’m so sorry,” he said when the young, well-dressed server came to their table, “something’s come up and we’re going to have to go.” He handed the kid a fifty. “Thank you for your help.”

The server nodded, said thank you to Reed, and went to grab the two men’s jackets. Greyson raised an eyebrow, confused. “What’re you doing?”

“Taking you home,” Reed said. “You need tea and soup, not…” he glanced back down at the menu, “fattoush flatbread.” Greyson visibly deflated.

“I wanted to spend the evening with you,” he said, his voice subdued. “I’m sorry. I should’ve called and canceled, I just… I mbiss you when we don’t see each other all week. You’re always busy, I’mb always busy, it just fucking sucks. I don’t even know how I got fucking sick… oh wait, yes I do. Elijah had a cold last week – was that last week? Did I tell you that? I can’t remember. I think the servers gave it to him. Fuckin’ servers, I’ve never met a group of people who get sick mbore than theehh – huh! Fuck – HUHETSHHH-ue! Huh-! HhITSZZZCH-ue!” Greyson folded in half, his torso practically beneath the table in an attempt to keep the entire restaurant from hearing him. It was, of course, at that moment that the server returned with their coats. Reed took them silently, and stood to gather his boyfriend, who slowly unfurled himself from his own lap.

“Bless you,” he said, gently helping Greyson to his feet and slipping his coat over his shoulders. He lead the two of them past the host stand and onto the sidewalk, where he turned Greyson to face him.

“First of all,” he said, sweeping Greyson’s hair out of his eyes and caressing his cheek, “I know a subset of people who get sick more than servers, and it’s chefs. You and all your chef buddies are pestilence incarnate because you work nine hundred hours a week.” This prompted a little laugh from Greyson. Perfect, thought Reed. Break the tension.

“Secondly, yes, you did tell me that Elijah was sick, and I told you, and I quote, ‘Don’t get too close, I know you two love to share a cold’, but I know you don’t like to listen to authority, so not sure what I expected.” Another laugh. Greyson pushed his hair back, rubbed his nose, and pulled Reed in to hug him. Reed continued from this spot, pressed into Greyson’s shoulder.

“And thirdly,” he said, “I miss you too. All the time. Which is why I asked you out tonight.” He pulled away, reached into his pocket, and dropped a key into Greyson’s palm. “I don’t want to miss you anymore. I don’t want you to have to take the train from Brooklyn every single night, I don’t want us to hang out once a week, I don’t want to drop you at your apartment to take care of yourself. I want to see you when I wake up every morning. I want to hear you sneak in at three AM after you and Matt go clubbing. I want to take care of you, at home, when you’re sick.” Reed smiled, a little embarrassed, as Greyson stared at the key. “Move in with me,” Reed said. “Please.”

Greyson’s mouth opened, then shut without words a couple of times before he looked Reed in the eyes. “Yes,” he said, nodding. “Okay. Yes. Yes, please.”

Reed felt a smile bloom on his face, huge, goofy, unashamed. He took Greyson’s face in his hands and planted a kiss on his lips. Greyson held his boyfriend by the waist, then picked him up to spin him around. “I love you,” Greyson muttered into Reed’s mouth.

“I love you more,” Reed said, smiling. Greyson turned away then, suddenly to -

“HRRSHH-ue! HhhITSHZZCH-ue!” he sneezed away from his boyfriend, which prompted a laugh from Reed.

“Probably too late for that nicety,” Reed joked, elbowing Greyson playfully. The chef huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes.

“I figured sneezing directly into your face would probably kill the moment,” he said, sniffling. “But I’ll go ahead and just do it next time.”

“Oh, shut up,” Reed laughed, kissing Greyson again. “C’mon. Let’s get you home and in bed. Sickie.”

Greyson smiled a little. “Yeah,” he said, looping his arm into Reed’s. “Let’s go home.”

#whiskeyswriting #snz #sickfic #snzfic #snzblr #coldfic #male cold #male snz #idk idk they're just so cute i love a happy greyson #i mean i love an angry greyson too but it's fun to write something happy idk #im thinking my next big fic will be an elijah drama fest tho... i have IDEAS

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butterflydm · 3 months ago

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rings of power - season 1, eps 7-8

Now that I've watched the first season, I want to poke at Halbrand/Sauron a bit and kinda feel out where I feel his deceptions lie, and where I feel like his honesty was too. And maybe active deception vs his low-level tricking everyone because he's literally the most wanted criminal in the lands and doesn't want people to know. The divide between self-preservation and power-seeking, I guess I would say.

First my thoughts on the last two episodes of the season, and then I'll do a bit of a deep-dive into my thoughts and feelings on Halbrand specifically throughout s1. I am definitely looking forward to diving into s2!

Some spoilers for LotR in general and for what I know about the second season.

episode 7: Extremely emotional.

There were a lot of strong emotions in this one. If ep6 showed us war, this showed us the brutal aftermath, and how bitter it can be. Every storyline contained elements of worrying over fault and blame, and then a determination to continue on despite the struggle.

First in the Harfoot & Stranger storyline, where we have destruction and then renewal. "Be true to each other." "What's the good of living if you aren't living good."

Then in the Durin IV storyline, where Durin (and Disa) makes the choice to cleave to Elrond and their own ambitions instead of what the king wants (and suffer for it). The scenes between Durin, Elrond, and Disa were so touching! I love them, your honor! Do they have a ship name?

But I feel bad for the king, Durin III! He is trying to maintain OSHA compliance while Durin (and Disa) are throwing safety out the window. And... and I'm not sure that the king is wrong about the elves either. By the time of LotR, the elves have finally accepted that they must go to Valinor and leave Middle-Earth for Mortal Men. Here, they are not ready to. Galadriel is almost a metaphor for the rest of her people -- on the cusp of leaving, only to turn back and stay.

Miriel also makes up her mind to stick by the side of her alliance to her elven friend, despite the hardships. A lot of really powerful and heartbreaking scenes. Miriel reaching up to cup Galadriel's face while she cries and promising they will return! <3 <3 (Galadriel does not interact with women often, so I must cling to our Galadriel and Miriel moments!)

And we get Galadriel and Theo's extended time together, which I really enjoyed. I'm glad she was able to help him move past blaming himself, at least a little. We got our first mention of Celeborn as well, I believe, which was... interestingly placed for me (I will explain more below). But I really liked their conversations here - Galadriel trying to help him keep a level head and survive past the moment.

But then we have the footsteps of doom coming. Our first sighting of the Balrog down in the mines, after we have just heard Disa and Durin plan to delve deeper. The King was right about the mines. Does that mean he was right about the elves?

And the renaming of the Southlands to Mordor, which was surprisingly heartbreaking for a font burning away and a new word burning onto the screen. Everything that Galadriel was trying to do in the earlier episodes felt like it was burning away too.

My mom said this felt like a finale to her, so I will be interested to see how she feels about ep8! She also noticed everyone taking the blame and said that she agrees that they are all partially to blame to the disaster, because they were too quick to act without enough information. They underestimated the strength of their enemy. It's a really good point -- and we saw that happen with Nori in this episode too, when she thinks she can trick the people chasing Gandalf and it ends up with wagons all aflame.

episode 8: The Stranger's storyline worked here and I liked it, plus it is (again) very informative about the potential powers that Sauron has -- we see one of the bad guys here changing her form, which is something I know Sauron can do (plus I've seen s2 gifs), and we had the... moral, I guess, of all of it here in their storyline, I think.

It's all about choice. Other people can't show you who you are. Only you can do that.

So I did like that plotline and I feel like it was definitely important on a thematic level.

But the Galadriel & "Halbrand" storyline was the one that I was most captivated by in this episode (which I kinda expected).

First, Elrond and Galadriel's reunion was very touching. <3

I was pressing my hand to my chest and just... watching a master at work whenever Halbrand was chatting up Celebrimbor. That was some good fucking manipulation. He was just... in there. Very impressive!

This episode still had a lot of tension even though I knew where it was going. The reveal was so good! That build-up to it, and then the conversations that Sauron has with Galadriel inside her head, trying to convince her to side with him and... hmm.

So, he tried to convince her into two things.

a. Let the work proceed. This is the smaller ask, and I think the bigger ask helped mask it. This is something that he explicitly asked of her and that she ended up doing. She let the work proceed.

b. The two of them binding themselves together, light to power, and ruling over Middle-Earth together. I assume, given what Adar said earlier in the season, that Sauron meant to bind them together with a blood oath (he gave her brother's dagger back to her when he asked her).

That was a big swing for the fences that obviously blew up in his face but... but plan A still succeeded. He still got the first ask that he placed before her -- no need to lie but... let the work proceed.

And she did. So... yeah, very interesting.

She warned Elrond and Celebrimbor about Halbrand, but she didn't mention Sauron. Ashamed of not seeing what he was? Or desperate to stay in Middle-Earth, enough that she was willing to risk the creation of the rings and what they might mean? Believing even more than ever that she is not worthy of Valinor now, and believing that she needs to take care of the problem herself?

And her brother's dagger... symbolic of her vow to hunt down Sauron... being melted and reforged into the three elven rings... that is also very interesting. Lots of things to think about.

One big question I'm left with is - why does Sauron want the elves to stay? They were about to leave. They would have left Middle-Earth if he hadn't saved the project.

It does follow the advice that he gave Galadriel in Numenor, about how to manipulate people: find out what they fear (the elves fear death and diminishment and being forced to sail West), give them a means to master it (the rings), so that you can master them (One Ring to Rule Them All).

So... a calculated risk, because he'd rather have the elves in Middle-Earth and under his control than off in Valinor? He also may be assuming at that point that he doesn't need to worry about any of them picking up on who he really is, so he thinks it's a smaller risk than it ended up being. He clearly didn't expect Galadriel to confront him at this time, though he rolled with it once she did.

My mom's reaction, in her literal words: "He can't be Sauron. He's too handsome!" She was totally shocked and taken off-guard by the reveal. She did feel like the finale was appropriately epic, and is looking forward to watching s2.

I am uncertain if I would have picked up if he was Sauron or not if I were watching it during my first watch, but I would have found his convos with Celebrimbor suspicious just as Galadriel did, I think.

Oh, I did notice that Halband is wearing the same kind of jewelry around his neck that we've seen around the neck of the Sauron worshipper who used the key to blow up the mountain (who is still with Adar at the end of the season, it seemed). So that was a subtextual visual cue before the actual reveal.

Overall thoughts/vibes on each storyline & character throughout s1:

Nori & the Harfoots - this was not always the most exciting storyline, but it had warmth and charm throughout, and I definitely teared up when Nori was saying goodbye to her family and Poppy at the end of the season. The first Hobbit Harfoot to go off on an adventure with Gandalf a wizard!

Gandalf The Stranger: We definitely see lots of hints of Gandalf throughout the season, but culminating in "always follow your nose" made it really obvious. His plotline is still the most separated from everyone else's, and I suspect that it still is in s2, but maybe his path will cross with Galadriel's in s3. But his plotline told us a lot about Sauron's potential abilities, which was pretty useful since Sauron himself was keeping his powers on the down-low this season and relying on manipulation to achieve his goals.

Durin & Disa - I love them, I adore them, oh dear they are 100% responsible for waking up the Balrog due to their ambitions. The sharp divide between Durin III's dedication to safety measures vs Durin IV's 'dig deeper' feelings are... yeah, that's woken the Balrog. (but of course, it's complicated there too, because he doesn't only do it for ambition, but for friendship as well)

Celebrimbor - much like with Durin & Disa, Celebrimbor is a combination of ambition mixed with genuine desire to help. In Celebrimbor's case, it makes him incredibly vulnerable to Halbrand when he shows up and offers Celebrimbor both the solution and the ability to be the one to give that solution to his people. I kinda know what happens to him in s2 because of gifsets but, yeah. The echoes of doom are already there in his behavior. Much like Durin & Disa, he's willing to overlook the warning signs in order to pursue his desires.

Elrond - What a gem! We really got to see him as such a good person during this season, seeing his genuine friendships with Galadriel and Durin (and now Disa) and seeing his moral struggles.

Bronwyn, Arondir, & Theo - I already know that Bronwyn isn't going to be in s2, but I do appreciate what we got with her while she was here. She's strong and principled (just like Arondir), a good mother, a charismatic leader, and we also watched her struggle with moral choices during the season (whether or not to surrender herself and her people to Adar) but she stayed strong and did not give into temptation.

Elendil & family - okay, so I know that Isildur isn't dead (because I have watched the prologue for LotR) but I feel so bad for Elendil. Not only for believing that he's lost his son, but also because his daughter looked into the palantir, and I just feel like that is Bad News Bears. It seems like he's already had so much loss and pain in his life and I am concerned there is only more to come.

Miriel - I like her, I like her, but she is so doomed. Again, back to Durin & Disa and to Celebrimbor -- we have that mix of ambition and genuine desire to help, and we've been watching all season as ambition has led to dangerous overreach. Ambition awakes the Balrog; ambition leads to the creation of the elven rings (which are tied to Sauron, or at least the visuals certainly implied as much), and ambition led to the loss of her soldiers and her own blinding. And yet at the end of things, she was determined to double-down on her plans (just as Durin & Disa do; just as Celebrimbor does).

Galadriel - my feral angel, I adore her. Ambitious, driven by revenge, feeling like she doesn't deserve peace. And, just like in the other storylines, ambition brings doom along in its wake.

I do hope that Galadriel is able to take her advice to Theo to heart next season, and not blame herself too much for bringing Sauron back to Middle-Earth. Doom was not only coming from her side of things but from others as well. The Balrog was woken up because of Elrond & Durin's side of the story, not Galadriel's. Adar's plot to create Mordor would have happened whether or not Galadriel had brought Sauron to the Southlands. What she did was only one piece of the puzzle that leads us into the current situation.

But just like Durin & Disa, just like Celebrimbor, just like Miriel -- Galadriel chooses to ignore the warning signs in order to push forward with what she wants to do. (inversely, in the Harfoot storyline, we almost have the opposite -- it's the baddies in that one who are pushing forward with their ambitions despite the hints that the Maia they're pursuing isn't Sauron, and they get iced for it)

circling around on Halbrand throughout the season:

While I've seen gifsets from s2, I know that context changes things, so I don't know if any of my analysis of Halbrand/Sauron will hold up throughout the second season, but I wanted to place my thoughts down anyway before I press forward.

I think a lot of his early deceptions fall into the "self-preservation" area as opposed to "power-seeking". We know that he can "die" in some sense of the word because Adar believes that he killed Sauron and Halbrand definitely seems to carry a grudge over it.

I am inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt at the start, mostly because I feel like it's a more interesting story that way, and it's ambiguous enough to be read either way. So - let's say he genuinely wanted to start anew, and saw Numenor as his ticket to not being a Dark Lord again. He's gonna be a weaponsmith; he's gonna be chill and cool; and, hey, if he really needs a way out or he gets bored, there's always the pouch that marks him out as the lost king of the Southlands.

In the first half of the season, Galadriel acts as the great tempter to power and ambition. She tells Halbrand that he's better than just being a smith, and pushes and prods him to join her. He resists for a while, but succumbs after the forge scene.

Is he still trying to start anew, but maybe now he's gonna try to play the role of the King of the Southlands, hoping that it's an elevated enough role that it won't chafe on him?

His burst of temper in Numenor is potentially attributed to two things -- a. there's definitely the Galadriel angle, and disliking the implication that lowly Halbrand isn't ~good enough~ for her and that she deserves a man of "better breeding"; but b. there's also the distinct possibility there that part of what sets him off is being treated like he isn't good enough in general; that these mortal men look down on him at all. That the "clothes of the common" are already starting to chafe on him, as Galadriel tells him in one of their scenes together.

Once Halbrand says 'yes' to Galadriel, we get the King & Commander/Battle Couple section of their relationship, which I am so into. I love Battle Couples (Arondir and Bronwyn are also a great Battle Couple in these episodes, and I loved it for them as well). This is also when they are winding closer and closer together but also when it really feels like Halbrand/Sauron's ambition and deception are shifting more and more into power-seeking vs self-preservation. First the power of a king and then, after Adar cracks open the mountain, the temptation of seeking the power of being a god is irresistible to him, I think, especially if he genuinely believes that he can talk Galadriel into coming along with him.

Because the Galadriel x Halbrand relationship is both built on a lie (of him being Literally Anyone But Sauron) and also absolutely sincere (on an emotional level) from Halbrand/Sauron. And the reason I feel that way is because he doesn't need her! Nothing requires him to have a queen by his side. He wants her there. I remember a certain wizard in LotR talking about how the Dark Lord doesn't share power, but it seems like maybe there was an exception to that, once upon a time! (at least in theory)

And if you ignore the context of her dead brother (which she absolutely never would, but we're in Halbrand's PoV at the moment), then it makes sense that Halbrand believes that he needs to be more than 'just' a mortal if he wants her by his side, because she is the one pushing him to embrace more power in the early days of their relationship. It's easy to see how he might assume that even more power could result in even more approval from her, plus it's what he wants anyway.

We have some big emotionally intimate scenes between them in this section, where they bond over how similar they are. In the forge scene, they both confess to having darkness in them, in having done terrible things. In the woods scenes, they acknowledge that they each needed to be pulled back from the edge of revenge, and admit to the connection between them. Galadriel was into him.

Then the big kaboom happens.

And Halbrand is... yeah. I think this event is what marks his choice.

He was 'found on the road', dreadfully injured in a way that needs Elvish healing to fix. And once Galadriel is there, he can rally enough to ride a horse to wherever she's taking him? Adar created Mordor, but Sauron plans to rule it. When he leaves the Southlanders at the end of the episode, he's... he seems much more detached from them than he was in the previous episode. The King of the Southlands is a dead dream now that the Southlands are dead, but he does not plan to let Adar keep Mordor.

I mentioned in my ep7 thoughts that it was extremely interesting to me that we finally get a mention of Celeborn now. Between when we see Halbrand embracing the role of King of the Southlands (at the end of episode 6) and when Galadriel finds him again at the end of this episode.

Galadriel's husband disappeared into the fog of war and she never saw him again.

The Halbrand in the healing tent... he's making plans. He's being an opportunist. She used him to get an army to the Southlands for her ambitions to kill Sauron, but now he's using her to get to the elves. The Halbrand who was willing to limit his ambitions to being the King of the Southlands... he disappeared into the fog of war. She has lost him already, though she doesn't know it yet.

Those feelings only intensified in episode 8, as Halbrand is charming and ~in awe~ of Celebrimbor and managed to so quickly worm his way into the center of this new creation process. He is the one who suggests each new step as they proceed down the road, who is guiding the process of creating the rings.

If that scroll hadn't been in the catacombs, if there had been no proof that Halbrand wasn't the King of the Southlands, I wonder how Halbrand would have managed to get his (two) rings where he wanted them to be. He could definitely play Celebrimbor to act however he wanted.

But, of course, Celebrimbor did manage to accidentally trip Galadriel's suspicions, by saying something that echoed what Adar had said of Sauron's goals.

She must be so... devastated and humiliated right now. She invested so much into her idea of Halbrand, into making him the King who would help her against Sauron.

Was Sauron being honest in his offer to Galadriel? I mean... I kinda think that he was. But that doesn't help, because of who he is, and what he's done in the past.

The general vs the specific and personal comes into play here -- Galadriel is willing to look past a general dark past, but once it touches her own trauma, then that's too far. This is a very understandable and common barrier -- being deserving of redemption (if you choose to seek it) is a very different thing than deserving being forgiven by the people that you've actively hurt.

Redemption requires more than just doing things differently this time, especially if you are trying to redeem yourself in the eyes of the people who you've hurt. It requires a level of sincere humility on Halbrand/Sauron's part that I'm not certain that he's capable of.

It would mean letting go of his attempts at controlling the situation.

It would mean confessing his crimes and then accepting the consequences of that confession.

Sauron may have tried dedicating himself to "healing Middle-Earth" after Morgoth's fall but as long as that's entirely on his own terms, then he has not changed anywhere near enough.

Anyway, that's not the road that he chose to go down! (and choice is the key, as the Harfoot & Stranger storyline has been reminding us: no one can show you who you are, except yourself)

So I will instead enjoy watching the road that he has chosen to travel, because he is fascinating to watch when he's in full manipulator-mode. Tricksters are fun, even when they're scary. I kinda get Jareth the Goblin King from Labyrinth vibes due to the type of manipulation that it feels like Sauron favors - "Just let me rule you and you can have anything you want".

Yeah, my thoughts on this may change depending on what s2 shows me but for now, that's my feeling.

#rings of power #rop #lotr #butterfly watches #my meta #and i talk enough about the ship to warrant it being mentioned here for tagging reasons:#haladriel #saurondriel

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